"But as when vizard mask appears in pit,
Straight every man who thinks himself a wit
Perks up, and, managing a comb with grace,
With his white wig sets off his nut-brown face."
Says Congreve, in the "Way of the World":—
"The gentlemen stay but to comb, madam, and will wait on you."
Man with Wig and Muff, 1693
(from a print of the period).
Thomas Brown, in his "Letters from the Dead to the Living," presents a pen-portrait of beaux as they appeared at the commencement of the eighteenth century. Some of the passages are well worth reproducing, as they contain valuable information concerning wigs. "We met," says the writer, "three flaming beaux of the first magnitude. He in the middle made a most magnificent figure—his periwig was large enough to have loaded a camel, and he bestowed upon it at least a bushel of powder, I warrant you. His sword-knot dangled upon the ground, and his steinkirk, that was most agreeably discoloured with snuff from the top to the bottom, reach'd down to his waist; he carry'd his hat under his left arm, walk'd with both hands in the waistband of his breeches, and his cane, that hung negligently down in a string from his right arm, trail'd most harmoniously against the pebbles, while the master of it was tripping it nicely upon his toes or humming to himself." About this period in cold weather men wore muffs as well as wigs. A ballad, describing the frost fair on the Thames in the winter of 1683-84, mentions amongst those present:—
"A spark of the Bar with his cane and his muff."