Lady's Accessory: History of Handkerchief

My theater group was working on a play and for one of the scenes we needed a blood-soaked handkerchief. So, I set out to make one out of bit of linen I had lying around.

And it got me thinking, where did handkerchiefs come from?  Modern Woman magazine wrote this about the origins of handkerchief in 1940:

"Historians credit Marie Antoinette with the invention of the pocket handkerchief. She was so broken up at leaving her home in Austria that she cried all the way to France and wiped her eyes with bits of lace torn from her dress and lingerie. Anticipating future tears, she made it a point always to have a piece of lace tucked in a pocket of her dress. This, say the historians, was how handkerchiefs were born." - via Bobby Pin Blog

This is a lovely, sentimental story, but it's probably not true. Marie Antoinette must have spent quite a bit of her time crying, but she was not the first person to use pieces of cloth to wipe away her tears.

Rose Bertin, La Galerie des modes, 1770s 

Some believe that the handkerchief was invented by King Richard II of England (1377-1399). His courtiers noted that he used square pieces of cloth to wipe his nose. But it is very likely that handkerchiefs existed as far back as the Roman times. Poet Gaius Valerius Catallus (84BC) mentions something that could be an equivalent of a modern napkin or handkerchief in his writing.

Linens whose loss affects me not for worth
But as mementoes of a comrade mine.
For napkins Sætaban from Ebro-land
Fabúllus sent me a free-giftie given
Also Veránius: these perforce I love
E'en as my Veraniólus and Fabúllus. - The Carmina of Caius Valerius Catullus

Handkerchief were not only practical items but also wonderful keepsakes that people would give each other as presents. Much of Shakespeare's Othello revolves around a misplaced handkerchief.

Iago Nay, but be wise: yet we see nothing done;
She may be honest yet. Tell me but this,
Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief
Spotted with strawberries in your wife's hand?
Othello I gave her such a one; 'twas my first gift. - Othello by William Shakespeare

Othello and Desdemona, Daniel Maclise, 1859 

Handkerchiefs were usually made of fine linen, cambric or lawn cloth with rich embroidery or lace along the edge. During the Renaissance they were used for hygiene purposes, but they also gained popularity as fashionable accessories for the wealthy. It is possible that the fad began with the court ladies in Italy and slowly made its way to Germany and France.

 A Woman Holding a Handkerchief, Paris Bordone, 1530s(?) 

They eventually reached the court of Queen Elizabeth I of England, and judging from the portraits of the time were used to signify the prosperity and status of their owners. Elizabeth herself had quite a collection of handkerchiefs which were mostly New Year gifts from her loyal subjects.

Portrait of Lady Diana Cecil, William Larkin,1614

Handkerchiefs were often perfumed to ward off unwanted smells or revive their owners should they faint from fatigue or excessive sensibility. It is very likely that Mrs. Bennet from Pride and Prejudice utilized a handkerchief during her bouts of nervousness.

Alison Steadman as Mrs. Bennet in Pride and Prejudice (1995)

Fashion plates of the 18th and 19th centuries abound in pictures of fashionable ladies clutching pieces of cloth in their hands. However, when reading sources from this period, it is not always clear whether handkerchief refers to a pocket handkerchief as we now it today or to a kerchiefs that covered a lady's neck and bosom for modest day wear.

Costume Parisien, 1824

Henry Tilney from Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey knows a thing or two about ladies' dress. He suggest that muslin could always be turned to good use if it is made over into caps, cloaks or handkerchiefs.

"But then you know, madam, muslin always turns to some account or other; Miss Morland will get enough out of it for a handkerchief, or a cap, or a cloak. Muslin can never be said to be wasted. I have heard my sister say so forty times, when she has been extravagant in buying more than she wanted, or careless in cutting it to pieces." - Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen  

Yet from the context it would seem that he is talking about kerchiefs rather than pocket handkerchiefs.

Evening dress, Ackermanm's Repository, 1818 

Ackermann's Repository of Fashions from 1829 has this to say about a new fashion involving a pocket handkerchief.

An attempt is making to bring into fashion pocket handkerchiefs very richly embroidered, the centre of which, by means of a riband, passed through a row of open work, forms a purse. The idea is novel, but in very bad taste; as yet it has been adopted only by a few merveilleuses. Those used by élégantes of acknowledged taste, are of two sorts ; the most elegant have a very broad hem, close to which is a row of open work of about an inch in breadth, each corner is ornamented with a butterfly most beautifully shaded; or else a bouquet of flowers coloured after nature. The other sort which are pretty, but not so expensive, have a broad hem, and a border of open work, close to which is a coloured Grecian border from an inch to an inch and a half in breadth. - Ackermann's Repository, 1829

It would seem that some Parisian fashionista were trying to style a sort of reticule out of a handkerchief, though the author of this review seems unimpressed.

Some beautiful examples of pocket handkerchiefs:

An imperial fine linen handkerchief, 19th century, Russia via Christie's  

Linen handkerchief, Venetian needlepoint, 1700s via Gathering the Jewels 

Handkerchief, Convent of Notre Dame de Visitation, 1865 via Met Museum

Today handkerchiefs have been replaced by napkins and paper towels; though they are still used in men's formal wear. However, we should endeavour to bring back these elegant and useful pieces of cloth. You can find real beauties from the 1930s and 1950s in vintage and second hand stores.

But if you want something a little more refined, make one yourself. Here is a simple tutorial that shows you how to sew a pocket handkerchief by hand. You can spice them up with some lovely embroidery. Whitework looks especially lovely. Monogrammed handkerchiefs make lovely gifts and if you start now you will have a few dozen ready by Christmas. And this lovely tutorial will show you how to make a scented handkerchief.

More on the topic:
A Brief History of the Handkerchief in Europe during the Late Middle Ages through the Renaissance by Margaret Roe
An Intimate History of the Handkerchief by THL Genevieve de Valois
Vulgar Things by Hannah Carlson, Common-Place 
Handkerchief Heroes
Bobby Pin Blog

Georgian Makeup Tips & Tricks for Modern Lady

It is no secret that make-up has had a bad rap up until well into the 20th century. In the 17th and 18th centuries, when make-up was commonly used by both men and women, it was not only being bashed by moralists but was also very likely to kill you. It contained such unsavory substances as lead, belladonna, arsenic and many more. Maria Coventry, Countess of Coventry, for instance, paid a heavy price for her makeup addiction. She died at the age of 27 from lead poisoning.

Maria Coventry, Countess of Coventry (1733 – 1760)

By the end of the 18th century, the cult of the natural began to take hold. Women donned simpler style of dress, and makeup became even more despised. But that did not stop people from using beauty products to improve their looks and complexion. In a hilarious scene from Jane Austen's Persuasion, the vain and silly Sir Walter Elliot advises his daughter to use Gowland's Lotion to improve her looks. This advice would have been pretty dangerous since Gowland Lotion contained, among other things, mercuric chloride. A substance you should keep away from your face.

An ad for Gowland's Lotion which was a chemical peel  

But while many cosmetics of the past were downright lethal and incompatible with our modern aesthetic, we can still learn a few things from our foremothers.

La toilette by Lucio Rossi (1846-1913) 

The 18th century was not a very great time for bathing. Ladies avoided baths and hair would not be washed for months, especially when the high puffy styles came into fashion around the middle of the century. These elaborate updos took a long time to construct and no lady would willingly ruin it by washing. The hair was built up and kept in place with a generous helping of powder. What we modern ladies can take from this is that powder is a wonderful degreaser.

Hairdresser powdering a lady's hair.  Galerie des Modes, 12e Cahier, 1e Figure

While I do not recommend going without bathing for months on end, hair can be made presentable by a bit of hair or talcum powder. Just put some on your hand and run it through the hair, shake off the excess and  you are ready to go. I prefer unscented talc, but you can find powder with a variety of very pleasant scents like vanilla, jasmine and rose. Some powders have glitter if you like a little extra glitz.

Lulu Organics Hair Powder 

Lush Vanilla Puff Powder

Ageless Artifice Perfumed Powder 

Rouge has been used for ages to give cheeks a glowing healthy look and to put some color into wane lips. It has mostly been replaced by blush and lipstick in our beauty kits.

Madam de Pompadour applying rouge   

However, it is about time we bring rouge back. There is no need to run to the local pharmacy for some white lead, vermilion and alkanet root. It can be easily replaced with lip stain or lip tint. Unlike lipstick or blush that could look heavy, lip tint gives a more natural flushed effect. The other advantage is that it is a two-in-one product. You can use lip tint to rouge up both lips and cheeks. Some shades can also be applied instead of cream eye shadow for a very pretty look. Just remember to dab some powder on it to keep it from creasing.

Lush It Started With A Kiss Lip tint

Odora Candy Color Mineral Lip Stain

Ageless Artifice Red Paint for the Face

Would you like more tips on how to emulate that 18th century beauty? Katie Cannon over at Ageless Artifice has a wonderful blog about historical cosmetics and a site where you can buy many of them. Great for all you makeup and history junkies out there. 

TV Crush: Garrow's Law

Here I am, back from a long hiatus with a new post about one of the best shows I've seen in ages. 

I discovered Garrow's Law while reading Madame Guillotine and it instantly struck my fancy. Naturally, a show that combines two of my great passions - 18th century history and court drama - could not do otherwise.

Garrow's Law is a BBC period drama about an 18th-century lawyer, William Garrow, who was a real historical figure, though slightly less impressive than his fictional counterpart, and was involved in reforming the advocacy system of the corrupt and socially unjust Georgian England. The episodes are based on real legal cases from the time, but the series, naturally, takes some liberties with historical facts and conventions, yet it makes up for it with excellent writing and wonderful characters.

Garrow is played by Andrew Buchan, whom we all know and love as Jem Hearne from Cranfrod. 

Alun Armstrong (Aristocrats, Little Dorrit) plays Garrow's mentor, John Southouse. Lady Sarah, Garrow's love interest, is Lyndsey Marshal (HBO's Rome). Lady Sarah's husband, politician and all round unpleasant guy, Sir Arthur Hill, is played by Rupert Graves (Sherlock). And, finally, the role of Silvester, Garrow's court nemesis, is taken by Aidan McArdle (The Duchess, Ella Enchanted).

The show only had three season, which is a real shame. I would have loved to see more of Garrow and his team tackling some legal problems of a time period which wasn't high on social justice.  

Interesting Fact: Judge Buller (played by Michael Culkin) became infamous for allegedly creating the so-called rule of thumb, which stated that a husband could beat his wife as long as the stick was no bigger than his thumb. However, there is no proof that such rule ever existed in English common law. And equally doubtful is whether Judge Buller ever made this statement in court.

Interesting Fact: Garrow did, in fact, have an 'irregular' relationship with woman named Sarah, though she was not Lady Sarah. Her real name was Sarah Dore. She had previously had a child with Arthur Hill, Viscount Fairford. Some sources seem to say that she was his wife, others that she was his mistress. Nonetheless, she began a relationship with Garrow and had two children with him.  

Watch a wonderful documentary about the real William Garrow here.