Tight Lacing.—1788. "These tight Stays will be the death of me!"
About this time flourished that curious being, the "Macaroni," but most of his portraits are evidently such gross caricatures, that I have not cared to reproduce them. I have been compelled to draw upon the satirical prints of the period, as a future historian would take the pictures from Punch, if he wanted to hit the passing folly of the day; but we must not forget that the satirical prints of the last century, did not their spiriting so gently as our modern caricaturists, but exaggerated in every way, in facial expression, and in costume.
The following brace of Macaronis is taken from a print of the "Mock Duel, or a trip to Flanders," 26th May, 1789: and, although the costume is scrupulously correct, yet one can hardly help thinking that the designer of the wig, which was typical of the genus, has somewhat "drawn upon his imagination for his facts." The name Macaroni was applied, in derision, to those youths who had made the Grand Tour, and were fond, on their return, of shewing off their superior graces, and extolling the polished manners, and superior civilization, of the countries they had visited. In those days you were nothing unless classical. Modern languages were rarely taught, Science was all but unknown, Latin and Greek were the chief branches of education, and rich men were keen collectors of everything classical, marble statues and busts, bronzes, and coins—so Italy was naturally the bourne of these travelled youths, and John Bull, who then was, in the aggregate, a very stay-at-home animal, derided them, when they came back, with the epithet Macaroni, an elegant title derived from the popular Italian dish.
The home-keeping youths imitated their brethren as well as they could, but it was at a very humble distance, and their dress, though partially modelled on that of their confrères, was much exaggerated, and did not display such simplicity or good taste.—John Bull had a name ready for him; a home-manufactured Macaroni was "a Jessamy."
These Jessamies were, like the modern Mashers, effeminate, and comparatively harmless beings—entirely taken up with the contemplation of their external appearance, and the attempted subjugation of the other sex.
See the following quotation from the Morning Post 4th July 1789:—"There is not a man in the nation, no not even Lord Effingham, who bestows so much time and attention in rendering the external appearance of his head, elegant in the extreme, than the Earl of Scarborough. It is said that his Lordship keeps six French frizeurs, who have nothing else to do than dress his hair. Lord Effingham keeps only Five!!!"
The Jessamies, however, were only one class among the youth of the time, and I fear, by far the smallest. The majority were what we now should term "fast." Animal spirits in young men must have vent somehow.
There were then no rowing, cycles, or other means of getting rid of the superfluous energy they possessed. Men's social habits were not at all of a "blue riband" nature, and, after dinner, the bottle circulated freely. So those who, like Charles Reade's description of modern athletic young men, knew "only one language, and lived principally in the open air," naturally became either "A choice Spirit," "A Buck," or "A Blood," descendants of the "Hectors," "Muns," "Titiretus," "Scourers," and "Mohocks"—men that hustled honest folk, sang roaring, maudlin, filthy songs—men from whom no woman was safe; who, armed with bludgeons, and going in company in large numbers, boxed the watch, set the constables at defiance, and made night hideous with their brawls and shouting.
