Death has put superfluity to death,
And will soon revive abundance.
But Louis XIV. was so appreciative of the charms of costume that he would distribute all materials, silks and satins and brocades, to his courtiers, and exercise some jurisdiction over the way these were to be made. Painting on silk and satin was amongst the novelties of his reign, but embroidery still held the affections of the prodigal, and at a fête at Vaux, Mlle. de la Vallière is recorded to have worn a gown of white with golden stars and leaves in Persian stitch, and a blue sash tied in a large knot upon her bosom, while her fair waving hair, entwined with flowers and pearls, fell in profusion about her neck and shoulders, and her gloves were of cream-coloured lace. A gold dress embroidered with gold is also included in the chronicles, and there were double borders of gold and silver to many of the under-skirts, which were made of silk or satin with a long train which was carried over the left arm. Bodices were trimmed with galon, ribbon, and lace, and Madame de Sévigné writes of the "transparent gown," whose descendant lives to-day in our lace and jet frocks over tissue.
GLOVE WITH JEWELLED GAUNTLET.
The Duchess of Bourgogne showed her nice taste in a gown of silver tissue with gold flowers outlined with orange and green, and again in a grey damask bordered with silver; and the same record tells of a mantilla of gold Spanish point lace, and of a coat and skirt of cloth of silver laced with silver, and worn with diamonds and rubies. "All werry capital," as Sam Weller might have observed, had he only heard of them.
Amongst the desirable and the desired was a blue camlet waistcoat embroidered and fringed with silver. Spanish broadcloth of the very finest description was dedicated to waistcoats and to the hunting and riding costumes which were as much masculine as feminine, and mainly picturesque, with small rapiers to emphasise the manly tone. All hats were feathered, and the cravats frilled, a state of affairs which excited comment from that irrepressible critic Pepys, who granted it small admiration when he wrote: "Walking in the galleries at White Hall I find the ladies of honour dressed in their riding garbs with coats and doublets and deep skirts, just for all the world like mine, and buttoned their doublets up to the breast, with periwigs and hats, so that only for a long petticoat dragging under their men's coats nobody could take them for women in any point whatever. It was an odd sight, and a sight which did not please me."
A RIDING COSTUME.
But Pepys, in his immortal diary, did not pay proper respect to fashion. He commented on the clothes of the ladies, it is true, but he showed a lamentable vagueness, if not careless indifference, about their details. Doubtless his notes on dress were quite satisfying to his masculine mind, but I find them practically useless in assuaging the deepest emotions of feminine curiosity. However, I know from him and other sources that Nell Gwynn, the careless slattern, wore a cart-wheel hat when delivering a prologue in a play, and furthermore that she "looked pretty" on one occasion when Pepys passed her as she stood at her lodging door in "smock-sleeves and a bodice," whatever such description might please to mean. Colours, shapes, and materials this inimitable gossip ignored as unimportant; yet it may be written down to his credit that he confessed he was moved when he saw Lady Castlemaine's smocks and linen petticoats hanging out to dry in the Privy garden at White Hall, laced with the richest lace at the bottom which ever he saw, and he vows, "they did me good to look at them"; and so much may we count for grace, even though I sigh to think of the number of tucks and gaugings he failed to mention.