“THE THREE Mr. Wiggins’s” are real “Bond Street Loungers,” and are portraits of Lord Llandaff and his brothers, the Hon. Montagu, and George, Matthews. They were dandies of the purest water, with their white waistcoats and white satin knee-ribbons. The title is taken from a farce by Allingham, called “Mrs. Wiggins,” played at the Haymarket, May 27, 1803. It is very laughable, and turns upon the adventures of an old man named Wiggins, and three Mrs. Wiggins’s. It was very popular, and gave the title to another caricature of Gillray’s.
THE THREE MR. WIGGINS’S.
As will be seen, they wore powder, but this curious fashion was on its last legs—the Crops, or advanced Whigs, having given it its death blow; still, it struggled on for some years yet. There is a little story told in the Morning Herald of the 20th of June, 1804, which will bear reproduction: “The following conversation occurred on Monday last, in the Gallery of the House of Commons. A gentleman, very much powdered, happened to sit before another who did not wear any. During the course of the debate the son of powder in front, frequently annoyed, by his nodding, or rather his noddle, his neighbour in the rear, for which he apologized, as often as any notice was taken of it. At last, the influence of Morpheus became so powerful, that the rear rank man found his arm perfectly painted with powder, in such a manner as to produce some ignition in his temper, and repel his annoyer with a little more spunk[47] than he showed on any of the former occasions. This being resented, the other presented his arm, and said, ‘Sir, you should not be angry; for, if I wished for such an ornament as this, I should, this morning, have left that office to my hair-dresser. I am a man of such independence that I would not, willingly, be indebted to you for a single meal, and here you have forced on me a bushel. If I had been your greatest enemy, you could do nothing more severe, than to pulverize me; and, as I have given you no intentional offence, I must beg of you, in future, not to dust my jacket.’ This sally had all the effect for which it was intended, and, instead of exchanging cards, the affair ended, like some senatorial speeches, in a laugh.”
As all the members of the family, including the domestics had to be powdered, most houses of any pretension had a small room set apart for the performance, called “the powdering room,” or closet, where the person to be operated upon went behind two curtains, and, by putting the head between the two, the body was screened from the powder, and the head received its due quantity, without injury to the clothes.
Still, all the world was not rich, and, therefore, with some, economy in clothing was a necessity. As is usual, when a want appears, it is met; and in this case it certainly was, in a (to us) novel manner—Morning Post January 12, 1805: “Interesting to the Public. W Welsford, Tailor, No. 142, Bishopsgate Street, respectfully informs the Public, that he continues to pursue the plan, originally adopted by him, six years since, of SUPPLYING CLOTHES, on the following terms:—
| Four Suits of Superfine Clothes, the old Suits to be returned, in one year | £16 | 0 | 0 |
| Five Suits | 18 | 18 | 0 |
| Six Suits | 21 | 10 | 0 |
“Those Gentlemen who should not prefer the above Contract, may be supplied at the undermentioned reduced price:
| A Coat of the best Superfine Cloth, complete | £2 | 12 | 0 | |
| A Fine Fancy Waistcoat | 0 | 14 | 0 | |
| Superfine double-milled Cassimere Breeches | 1 | 4 | 0 | |
| Superfine Pantaloons | 1 | 0 | 0 | .” |
Nor was this the only practical economy in dress in that age. Hats, which were then, as a rule, made of Beaver, were somewhat expensive articles; and, in looking diligently over the newspapers of the times, I found that here, again, a want arose, and was met. These Beaver hats got shabby, and could be repaired; a firm advertising that “after several years’ practice they have brought the Art of Rebeavering Old Hats to greater perfection than it is possible to conceive; indeed, they are the only persons that have brought it to perfection; for, by their method, they can make a gentleman’s old hat (apparently not worth a shilling) as good as it was when new.... Gentlemen who prefer Silk hats, may have them silked, and made waterproof.”