William Andrews - England in the Days of Old

We have directed attention to the large periwigs, and given a portrait of the Earl of Albemarle wearing one. In the picture of the House of Commons in the time of Sir Robert Walpole we get an excellent indication of how popular the periwig was amongst the law-makers of the land. Farquhar, in a comedy called “Love and a Bottle,” brought out in 1698, says, “a full wig is imagined to be as infallible a token of wit as the laurel.”

Tillotson is usually regarded as the first amongst the English clergy to adopt the wig. He said in one of his sermons: “I can remember since the wearing of hair below the ears was looked upon as a sin of the first magnitude, and when ministers generally, whatever their text was, did either find or make occasion to reprove the great sin of long hair; and if they saw any one in the congregation guilty in that kind, they would point him out particularly, and let fly at him with great zeal.” Dr. Tillotson died on November 24th, 1694.

Wigs found favour with parsons, and in course of time they appear to have been indispensable. A volume in 1765, was issued under the title of “Free Advice to a Young Clergyman,” from the pen of the Rev. John Chubbe, in which he recommended the young preacher to always wear a full wig until age had made his own hair respectable. Dr. Randolph, on his advancement to the bishopric, presumed to wait upon George IV. to kiss hands without wearing a wig. This could not be overlooked by the king, and he said, “My lord, you must have a wig.” Bishops wore wigs until the days of William IV. Bishop Blomfield is said to have been the first bishop to set the example of wearing his own hair. Even as late as 1858, at the marriage of the Princess Royal of England, Archbishop Sumner appeared in his wig.

Medical men kept up the custom of wearing wigs for a long period; perhaps they felt like a character in Fielding’s farce, “The Mock Doctor,” who exclaims, “I must have a physician’s habit, for a physician can no more prescribe without a full wig than without a fee.” The wig known as the full-bottomed wig was worn by the medical profession: —

We are told Dr. Delmahoy’s wig was particularly celebrated in a song which commenced:

In the middle of the last century so much importance was attached to this portion of a medical man’s costume, that Dr. Brocklesby’s barber was in the habit of carrying a bandbox through the High Change, exclaiming: Make way for Dr. Brocklesby’s wig!

Professional wigs are now confined to the Speaker in the House of Commons, who, when in the chair, wears a full-bottomed one, and to judges and barristers. Such wigs are made of horsehair, cleaned and curled with care, and woven on silk threads, and shaped to fit the head with exactness. The cost of a barrister’s wig of frizzed hair is from five to six guineas.

An eminent counsel in years agone wished to make a motion before Judge Cockburn, and in his hurry appeared without a wig. “I hear your voice,” sternly said his Lordship, “but I cannot see you.” The barrister had to obtain the loan of a wig from a learned friend before the judge would listen to him.

Lord Eldon suffered much from headache, and when he was raised to the peerage he petitioned the King to allow him to dispense with the wig. He was refused; his Majesty saying he could not permit such an innovation. In vain did his Lordship show that the wig was an innovation, as the old judges did not wear them. “True,” said the King; “the old judges wore beards.”

In more recent times we have particulars of several instances of both bench and bar discarding the use of the wig. At the Summer Assizes at Lancaster, in 1819, a barrister named Mr. Scarlett hurried into court, and was permitted to take part in a trial without his wig and gown. Next day the whole of the members of the bar appeared without their professional badges, but only on this occasion, although on the previous day a hope had been expressed that the time was not far distant when the mummeries of costume would be entirely discarded.

We learn from a report in the Times of July 24th, 1868, that on account of the unprecedented heat of the weather on the day before in the Court of Probate and Divorce the learned judge and bar appeared without wigs.

On July 22nd, 1874, it is recorded that Dr. Kenealy rose to open the case for the defence in the Tichborne suit; he sought and obtained permission, to remove his wig on account of the excessive heat.

Towards the close of the last century few were the young men at the Universities who ventured to wear their own hair, and such as did were designated Apollos.

Women, as well as men, called into requisition, to add to their charms, artificial accessories in the form of wigs and curls. Ladies’ hair was curled and frizzed with considerable care, and frequently false curls were worn under the name of heart-breakers. It will be seen from the illustration we give that these curls increased the beauty of a pretty face.

Queen Elizabeth, we gather from Hentzner and other authorities, wore false hair. We are told that ladies, in compliment to her, dyed their hair a sandy hue, the natural colour of the Queen’s locks.

We present a picture of a barber’s shop in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. It looks more like the home of a magician than the workshop of a hairdresser, although we see the barber thoughtfully employed on a wig. The barber at this period was an important man. A few of his duties consisted in dressing wigs, using the razor, cutting hair, starching beards, curling moustachios, tying up love-locks, dressing sword-wounds received in street frays, and the last, and by no means the least, of his varied functions was that of receiver and circulator of news and scandal.

It is recorded that Mary Queen of Scots obtained wigs from Edinburgh not merely while in Scotland, but during her long and weary captivity in England. From “The True Report of the Last Moments of Mary Stuart,” it appears, when the executioner lifted the head by the hair to show it to the spectators, it fell from his hands owing to the hair being false.

We have previously mentioned Pepys’ allusions to women and wigs in 1666. Coming down to later times, we read in the Whitehall Evening Post of August 17th, 1727, that when the King, George II., reviewed the Guards, the three eldest Princesses “went to Richmond in riding habits, with hats, and feathers, and periwigs.”

It will be seen from the picture of a person with and without a wig that its use made a plain face presentable. There is a good election story of Daniel O’Connell. It is related during a fierce debate on the hustings, O’Connell with his biting, witty tongue attacked his opponent on account of his ill-favoured countenance. But, not to be outdone, and thinking to turn the gathering against O’Connell, his adversary called out, “Take off your wig, and I’ll warrant that you’ll prove the uglier.” The witty Irishman immediately responded, amidst roars of laughter from the crowd, by snatching the wig from off his own head and exposing to view a bald plate, destitute of a single hair. The relative question of beauty was scarcely settled by this amusing rejoinder, but the laugh was certainly on O’Connell’s side.

An interesting tale is told of Peter the Great of Russia. In the year 1716, the famous Emperor was at Dantzig, taking part in a public ceremony, and feeling his head somewhat cold, he stretched out his hand, and seizing the wig from the head of the burgomaster sitting below him, he placed it on his own regal head. The surprise of the spectators may be better imagined than described. On the Czar returning the wig, his attendants explained that his Majesty was in the habit of borrowing the wig of any nobleman within reach on similar occasions. His Majesty, it may be added, was short of hair.