THERE are many who suppose that the fashions of to-day are sillier, and in every way more ridiculous and extravagant than any that were known in what is called old times. It needs but a superficial glance at the past to show that the golden age was not there; whether that age has reference to governments or laws, institutions or manners, fashions or customs, or any of the minor conditions that make up the warp and woof of human existence. To confine the view to our ancestors, let anyone take the fashion-plates showing the costumes and various modes of dress that have prevailed in England, and in our country, during the last two or three hundred years, and he will see a height of ridiculousness and a depth of folly which the present age has never reached. Sometimes this folly showed itself in ladies' dress, sometimes in gentlemen's, and often in both. Fifty years ago it showed itself in gentlemen's dress. A dandy of that period was a sight to behold. Nothing in the line of representation short of a sterescopic view can fully set forth the salient points (and they were pretty much all salient points) of a figure dressed according to the standard of that day. So far as the English language will hold out, the writer will attempt a description of a suit worn something less than a half-century ago. To begin with the boots. The toe was of about the same width as the ball. The corners were slightly rounded, the sole narrowing considerably for an inch or two, then widening again until it reached the full width of the bottom. This gave the toe of the boot a close resemblance to the snout of a shovel-nosed shark. It was expected that these boots would be made so snug as to require very strong straps; and before drawing them on, the heel of the stocking was soaped, and some pulverized soapstone, or something else, was sprinkled into the boot to "ease it" in going on - just as the "ways" are greased when a ship is to be launched. How long it took to get on one of these boots depended upon the strength of the individual owner, the strength of the straps, and the faithfulness with which the maker of the boots had obeyed instructions to have a "good fit." But it is presumed that the "pants" were put on before the boots. What was called the "Suwarrow boot" came into fashion about that time. It is not surprising that the Russian hero in the early Napoleonic wars should give his name to a particular style of boot which he wore, or was supposed to wear. Did not Seleucus and Alcibiades and Iphicrates, and other eminent Greeks give their names to the fashionable shoes worn in their day? And in modern times have not Wellington and Blucher, Napoleon and Victoria, Moliere and the Duke Alexis, done the same thing? It is true, Suwarrow was a little insignificant looking man who did n't wash himself often, and when he did got somebody to throw three or four pails of water over his head and shoulders. It is true, also, that he was somewhat of a barbarian; but then he was tall enough and civilized enough to give his name to the "Suwarrow boot." And this was the kind worn by some of the young men fifty years ago. They were called "stiffbacks," as the tops were of leather stout enough to hold them up in position. This leather was of heavy calf-skin or kip-skin. The back part came up nearly to the bend of the leg; the top of the front was notched, and a tassel fastened at the bottom of the notch. The pantaloons fitting close to the legs, these boots were drawn on over them. Thus arrayed, a young man had a very warlike appearance, or rather a feudal aspect, and like some knight of old, seemed ready to go forth to vindicate his country's honor, or the fair fame of youth and beauty. If he needed anything to fully equip him it was one of the overcoats of the period with five capes. The first of these capes seemed to grow out under the collar, and was five or six inches wide; the second was two or three inches wider; the third wider still, until the last one came down half way over his arms. These were sometimes - at a later period - buttoned on, so that the wearer, as he went out in the morning, could shed one of these capes as the temperature went up, and have a sort of sliding-scale, like the tariff of '32, or Peel's bill to abolish the corn laws. One of these coats, with its antique collars and its multitudinous capes, was worn until recently by one of our venerable citizens. A youth of this period was expected to be encased in a pair of close-fitting pants. How these pants were put on has never been explained. They were expected to be about as snug as the skin everywhere except at the bottom, this exception making the principal distinction between them and those worn by the clown at the circus. The color was not, perhaps, so uniformly buff as the clown's. If no wrinkles were found, and the young man could get along, it was pronounced a good fit. The vest was of the most astonishing pattern, both in color and figure, and no one short of a Ruskin, or a rainbow-painter, could give a description of this part of a young man's outfit .. The coat - if a dress-coat - bore the suggestive name of "clawhammer," from the supposed resemblance of the tails to that well-known carpenter's tool. It was made to sit snug in every part, especially in the sleeves. If it did n't, the tailor had made a mistake. It had a velvet collar which came up somewhere against the back part of the head. This coat was generally made of broadcloth, and was of such shade or color as suited the fancy of the wearer. The article worn on the head was a tall silk hat, the different styles of which have since taken the name of "stove-pipe;" and one of the styles at that time was the "sugar-loaf." It had a very narrow rim, but wide enough to give the wearer a chance to take it off. One sort of outside garment worn about that time was made of blue camlet. This was sometimes made into cloaks, and sometimes into overcoats. After these were worn a spell they would fade out and look like what is called "birch-bark," and be about as stiff. From this they took the name of "birch." A man going along with one of them on would be likely to call out the remark - "There he goes with his 'birch' on." These were not absolutely water-proof, but rain would strike them and glance off like hail from a slated roof. A few men encased in these "birch" coats would rustle more than the forest that came to meet Macbeth. The article, or thing, worn round the neck was called a "stock." The dictionaries inform us that this word is the same as that which designates the name of the instrument in which culprits used to sit in old times. As an instrument of torture, this neckstock was rightly named. A man with one of these on had one advantage over the culprit, - he was not so likely to be pelted with rotten eggs. This stock varied from three to six inches in width, according to the length of the wearer's neck; and it seemed to be understood that every man was to wear one of the utmost capacity that his neck would permit. It was stuffed or worked with bristles. This made it stiff, so that the head could not work round in any such absurd manner as nature intended. A man could look straight ahead, and by careful management he could see a little way on either side of him. He could black his boots before he put his stock on; and as he would n't often want to drink at a brook, like a boy, this stock was no great drawback on that account. Above it, and about half-way between the mouth and ears, two points of a collar appeared. The rest of the collar was underneath. The surface measure of these points varied from half an inch to an inch square. They looked a good deal like a tooth-pick. Ruffled bosoms and ruffled wristbands completed this amazing toilet. If an alarm of fire startled a young man with one of these suits on, and he was a member of a fire company, it is presumed he paid the fine imposed for non-attendance. When he was inclosed in this manner, and had a little attar of rose on his handkerchief, he was as irresistible as the laws of gravity. Description was not intended to apply to this class of objects. When a photograph is invented to take both sides of an object at once we may get an approximate idea of the original of this picture. A boy's wardrobe at this period was a study for an archaeologist; not indeed for its elaborateness, but for its uniqueness and simplicity. If there was any elaborateness exhibited it was in the wonderful manner in which clothes were patched. Perhaps there is nothing that more clearly shows the change that has taken place in the condition of the masses than the patches and tattered wardrobe of a large part of mankind in past ages compared with that worn at the present day. The exemption from rags and patches is doubtless more marked in our own country than in any other; but it is also true that all over the civilized world the art of patching is becoming a lost art; and that not many decades hence specimens of these variegated garments, inlaid and overlaid with domestic mosaics, will be exhibited in museums as evidence of a semi-barbarous state. Fifty years ago, and even less, almost everybody, when not "dressed up," wore patched clothes. A woman was as much expected to do a certain amount of patching as she was to make bread, or perform any other domestic duty. A man with a patch on each knee attracted no more attention than a man sawing wood; and if the patches were of a different color from the original fabric, nobody stopped in the street to look at him. Clothes in those days were worn until they were worn out; and it was not an uncommon sight to see a garment - more especially pantaloons - so elaborately overlaid with patches of different shades and texture, that it required some discrimination to tell what the original or foundation was, on which the successive layers were spread. When a pair of these pantaloons got to be ten or fifteen years old they weighed a good deal, and were not a proper dress for a sick person. Such a specimen would present to the future antiquarian at a single view a comprehensive idea of the various textile fabrics made in our country in the early part of the century, if unfortunately, all other records should be lost. Children's and boys' clothes were generally of domestic or home manufacture. When this was not the case they were usually made by women who had not spent many years in learning the tailor's art. Gentlemen's clothes were more commonly cut by professional men tailors. and sometimes made by them, especially those that were kept as the "Sunday suit." Men's every-day clothes were often cut and made at home, but sometimes by women who make a specialty of this kind of work. These had often learned no trade, but "picked it up," being "handy with the needle." Some of these did no cutting, but made garments after they had been cut by professional men tailors. When a coat or jacket was to be made for a boy, special instructions were given to the tailor to cut it large enough so that he would not too soon outgrow it. When a boy first made his debut in one of these garments on some pleasant Sunday morning he presented a very much covered-up appearance. The sleeves came down pretty well over the hands; but as he was not expected to eat dinner in an overcoat, this did not interfere with that freedom of action so needful at that important meal. Envious boys would make invidious remarks to the wearer of such a coat. They would remind him that it was new, and that there was a good deal of it. "Where did you get so much coat?" "Is that your grand-daddy's ?" were some of the salutations that fell unpleasantly on the ear of the wearer of one of these comprehensive and prospective garments. If the inquirer was a little "salt" he would tell the boy to "take a reef in it." In order to meet the exigencies of future growth, large seams were sometimes taken in making boys' clothes. These seams could be "let out" as occasion required. As these clothes were made upon an hypothesis, full swing was given to the prophetic powers of the tailor, unlimited by "mete or bound." Whether a boy invested in one of these suits, which made so large drafts upon the future, was to be a Calvin Edson or a Daniel Lambert, was a problem he could ponder at his leisure, aided by all the lights that science and experience had afforded in the ages past.
Some forty odd years ago a boy had one of these coats made. The material
was a sort of fabric not often seen at the present day. It was of a dark
green color, supposed to be wool, somewhat finer than a blanket, and a
good deal coarser than broadcloth. The making of a coat like this was
regarded as an epoch in a boy's life, and no small amount of interest
centered in the case. The job was put into the hands of a veteran tailor
who was charged, in the most emphatic manner, to cut it so that it would
not interfere with the boy's future growth. This charge was repeated
occasionally from the time of the first interview until the large shears
decided the matter beyond recall. A wag, who knew the circumstances, said
the whole family got measured for this coat; but this, no doubt, was a
rhetorical embellishment. In due time the boy made his appearance, clad,
and more than clad, in this new outfit. Its upper dimensions were not more
than two or three years in advance of the boy's size; but around the
waist, and in that region so graphically set forth by Shakspeare in his
description of Falstaff, there was room and "verge" enough for the most
aldermanic proportions. When the boy was about to put on this coat of the
future, some one of the family would remark, "Come, put on your blanket."
What effect this garment had in curing or checking dyspepsia in the
neighborhood was never known.
It is probable that the sandal, the most ancient protection for the feet, was made to conform to the general outline of the human foot in this respect. While it is not unlikely that the most primitive sandals worn by man, designed merely to protect the soles of the feet, did not observe any of the distinctions so manifest in this part of man's anatomy, it is evident that, as civilization advanced, and a knowledge of the arts extended, a more exact conformation of the article worn to the shape of the foot, was recognized, as is seen in the various specimens that have been preserved. In more modern times the distinction of "right and left" is manifest in the various models and engravings, as well as the antiquarian relics of the shoemaker's craft found in old museums, and other repositories of medieval and ancient art. History informs us that Cresar Augustus, the Roman emperor, was supposed to have narrowly escaped a great calamity, the risk of which he had incurred by the evil omen of putting the right shoe upon the left foot, and the left shoe upon the right foot; as it was held among the Romans that to put the left shoe on first, or to put either shoe upon the wrong foot, was each a sign of ill luck. Shakspeare alludes to it in a passage that has greatly puzzled critics who were ignorant of the technicalities of the shoemaker's art; and also, perhaps, ignorant of the fact that this fashion, which prevailed in the poet's time, became obsolete some time after, and was not, possibly, again revived until a comparatively recent period. Such at least is the intimation given by Hudson in a note upon the following passage in Shakspeare's "King John :"
"Standing on slippers (which his nimble haste
Another allusion is found in "The Two Gentlemen of Verona." But it is hardly probable that the fashion remained obsolete for any great length of time, especially respecting boots and shoes for men's wear. Fashions repeat themselves at short intervals, and there seems to be a clear intimation in the fashion-plates representing the various styles of boots and shoes worn by men and women during the last three hundred years that the natural distinction of "right and left" was observed. This fashion, however, as relating to men's shoes, seems to have been for sometime obsolete at the beginning of the present century, both in England and in this country, when it revived. Ladies' shoes were not made in this style until some twenty years later. I have been informed by an aged citizen that the first set of "right and left" lasts for ladies' shoes were introduced into Lynn in 1822 by Daniel Silsbee, of Woodend. He obtained them in Philadelphia, and they were made of persimmon wood. But these were probably not the first. Cyrus Houghton informs me that he had seen then as early as 1810 or '12. As is well known, men's boots and shoes are usually made "rights and lefts," straight shoes being the exceptions, and these mostly of the coarser kinds, except in the few cases where they are made to order; but with ladies' shoes, as made in Lynn, and vicinity, the rule has been the other way - a much larger number - even since the revival of the style some fifty, or more, years ago - having been made "straight." When a boy who had learned the "craft" got his first "set" of "right and left" lasts, it engrossed his whole being till the novelty wore off. If this epoch in his life happened on Saturday, but a small portion of the next day's sermon was remembered, and it is doubtful if he could accurately repeat the text. Visions of artistic triumphs over the various difficult combinations of upper and sole leather filled his imagination, as, in his mind's eye, he saw the product of his genius grow up under his creative hand from the crudest materials, until the finishing touch made it fit for an occasion like that -
"When Hebe's foot bore nectar round
There was a degree of responsibility in making "rights and lefts" that was not experienced by workmen who had not risen to that distincton. This was when the uppers were cut "rights and lefts," as in the case of side-laced boots. The "gaiter boot" - introduced some forty-five years ago - requiring the "lace" on the inside, was sometimes "lasted" on the wrong side, and the mistake was not discovered until it was too late to correct the blunder; and it was necessary, as a choice of evils, to make up the pair with the "lace" on the outside. As these hybrid productions were usually thrown upon the workman's hands, who paid the cost of stock, his only hope was to sell them at a reduced price to some peddler who carried them to a remote market where the despot of fashion held less absolute sway.
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