DRESS IN THE PROVINCES IN 1777.
In the days when mail-coaches had not begun to run, and when railroads and telegraphs had not entered into the imagination of man, the style of dress in the provinces was often very different to what it was in London, and on this account the following paragraph is deserving of record. We have taken it from a copy of the Nottingham Journal, of September 6, 1777, where it is headed "Ladies undress."—"The ladies' fashionable undress, commonly called a dishabille, to pay visits in the morning, also for walking in the country, on account of its being neat, light, and short, consists of a jacket, the front part of which is made like a sultana; the back part is cut out in four pieces; the middle part is not wider at the bottom than about half an inch; the sides in proportion very narrow. The materials most in vogue are, white muslins with a coloured printed border chintz pattern, printed on purpose, in borders about an inch deep. The silks, which are chiefly lutestrings, are mostly trimmed with gauze. The gauze is tuckered upon the bottom of the jacket, and edged with different-coloured fringes. The petticoat is drawn up in a festoon, and tied with a true lover's knot, two tassels hanging down from each festoon. A short gauze apron, striped or figured, cut in three scollops at the bottom, and trimmed round, with a broad trimming closely plaited; the middle of the apron has three scollops reversed. The cuffs are puckered in the shape of a double pine, one in the front of the arm, the other behind, but the front rather lower. To complete this dress for summer walking, the most elegant and delicate ladies carry a long japanned walking-cane, with an ivory hook head, and on the middle of the cane is fastened a silk umbrella, or what the French call 'a parasol,' which defends them from the sun and slight showers of rain. It opens by a spring, and it is pushed up towards the head of the cane, when expanded for use. Hats, with the feathers spread, chiefly made of chip, covered with fancy gauze puckered, variegated artificial flowers, bell tassels, and other decorations, are worn large."
A GROUP OF RELICS.
The Dagger of Raoul de Courcy, of which a representation is included in the cut over leaf, is an interesting relic, and its authenticity can be relied upon. Raoul de Courcy, according to the old French chroniclers was a famous knight, the lord of a noble castle, built upon a mountain that overlooks the Valée d'Or, and the descendant of that haughty noble who took for his motto: "Neither king, nor prince, nor duke, nor earl am I, but I am the Lord of Courcy"—in other words, greater than them all. He fell in love with the wife of his neighbour, the Lord of Fayel, and the beautiful Gabrielle loved him in return. One night he went as usual to meet her in a tower of the Château of Fayel, but found himself face to face with her lord and master. Raoul escaped, and Gabrielle was ever after closely guarded. Still they found the opportunity for numerous interviews, at which they interchanged their vows of love. At length, Raoul, like a true knight, set out to fight beneath the banner of the Cross, for the possession of the Holy Sepulchre. Ere he went, at a stolen meeting, he bade the fair Gabrielle adieu, giving to her "a silken love-knot, with locks of his own hair worked in with the threads of silk." She gave him a costly ring, which she had always worn, and which he swore to wear till his last breath. What tears were shed—what kisses were exchanged at this last meeting!—for the Holy Land was very far from France in the Middle Ages.
On his arrival in Syria, Ralph de Courcy became known as the "Knight of Great Deeds," for it seems he could only conquer his love by acts of daring valour. After braving every danger, he was at length wounded in the side by an arrow, at the siege of Acre. The king of England took him in his arms with respect, and gave him the kiss of hope, but the arrow was a poisoned one, Raoul felt that he had little time to live. He stretched out his arms towards France, exclaiming, "France, France! Gabrielle, Gabrielle!"
He resolved to return home, but he was hardly on board the ship that was to waft him there, ere he summoned his squire, and begged of him after he was dead, to carry his heart to France, and to give it the Lady Fayel, with all the armlets, diamonds, and other jewels which he possessed, as pledges of love and remembrance.
The heart was embalmed, and the squire sought to deliver his precious legacy. He disguised himself in a mean dress, but unluckily met with the Lord of Fayel, and, not knowing him, applied to him for information as to how admittance into the château could be gained. The Lord of Fayel at once attacked and disarmed the poor squire, who was wounded in the side with a hunting-hanger. The precious packet was soon torn open, and the heart discovered. The Lord of Fayel hastened home, and, giving it to his cook, desired that it might be dressed with such a sauce as would make it very palatable.
Raoul's heart was served up at table, and the fair Gabrielle partook of it. When she had finished eating, the Lord of Fayel said—"Lady, was the meat you eat good?" She replied, that the meat was good. "That is the reason I had it cooked," said the Castellan; "for know that this same meat, which you found so good, was the heart of Raoul de Courcy."
"Lord of Fayel," said Gabrielle, "the vengeance you have taken corresponds with the meanness of your soul; you have made me eat his heart, but it is the last meat I shall ever eat. After such noble food I will never partake of any other."
She fainted, and only recovered her consciousness a few minutes before death. Such is the history of Raoul de Courcy and the Lady Gabrielle, as told in the language of the old chroniclers.