Wondering what to wear to a Christmas or New Year party? Deciding how to look one’s best can be a dilemma – but at least our fashion choices aren’t dictated by Acts of Parliament. In Tudor and Jacobean times it was a different story, as Dr Paul Hunneyball of our Lords 1558-1603 section explains…
In 21st-century Britain, clothes are seen as a means of expressing our individuality. Distinctions between smart and casual dress have become blurred, and anyone can buy designer outfits, provided they have enough money. That was not the case four or five centuries ago. Back then, clothing was seen as a key marker of social status, and it was government policy to preserve clear visual distinctions. Poor people were expected to dress cheaply, in linen and coarse woollen cloth, while the most commonly available dyes were drab browns and greys, or pale blues and pinks.
More vibrant colours, such as bright red, deep blue, or purple, were harder to produce, and therefore the preserve of the rich and powerful. Similarly, the finest cloth was made of silk thread, which had to be imported, and was very expensive. Silk might be woven into satin, velvet, brocade, damask or taffeta. For the ultimate in luxury, silk was blended with gold or silver thread, which in Tudor times was also manufactured abroad. Cloth of gold or silver might have a smooth metallic sheen – as seen in Holbein’s portrait of Sir Henry Guildford – or be woven with some sections in relief to create patterns (called tissue). Another approach was to interweave coloured silk with gold or silver threads to produce a sparkly fabric known as tinsel.
These top-quality fabrics were beyond the reach of most of the population, but provided scope for competition within its higher echelons. Wealthier members of the lower classes might also try to dress above their accustomed status as a means of social climbing. To regulate the former, and guard against the latter, Acts of Parliament were brought in from the mid-14th century. Known as sumptuary laws, these statutes dictated which fabrics and adornments were permissible for men of different ranks and income levels. Ostensibly, they were intended to encourage the use of home-produced cloth, and to discourage poorer people from spending beyond their means. But in reality their primary concern was to ensure that only the most privileged classes had access to the most exclusive materials.
The Acts were very precise in their stipulations. Henry VIII’s first such legislation, promulgated in 1510, specified that only the royal family might wear cloth of gold made with purple silk, and that no man below the rank of baron could dress in tinsel. Imported furs were banned for anyone below the status of gentleman (except university graduates, and landowners worth at least £10 p.a.). Another Act of 1515 ruled that only peers, and the sons of dukes and earls, were allowed clothes embroidered with gold, silver or silk thread, while men below the rank of knight were barred from wearing gold chains or bracelets. A subsequent Act of 1555, during Mary I’s reign, denied silk nightcaps to anyone with a landed income of less than £20 p.a. These rules were underpinned by quite stiff penalties: forfeiture of non-compliant garments, and fines of 3s. 4d. a day for the duration of the offence.
It speaks volumes about the essentially patriarchal nature of Tudor society that no regulation of women’s dress was attempted until the mid-1570s, the female population being exempted from statutory oversight prior to this. It’s tempting to speculate that Elizabeth I was worried about competition from her subjects. At this juncture the use of cloth of gold, cloth of gold of tissue, and sable fur was prohibited for anyone below the rank of countess. To wear sleeves trimmed with gold or silver ornamentation, one needed to be at least the wife of a knight. Only women who were at least knights’ daughters were permitted taffeta petticoats.
The sumptuary laws were not totally inflexible. Further exceptions were made for the robes of office customarily worn by judges and mayors, and for clerical vestments. Other special categories included heralds, minstrels and actors, all of whom were allowed to dress above their station during public appearances. Nor did the government generally attempt to regulate fashion trends, though the wide, padded breeches and elaborate ruffs characteristic of Elizabethan male dress intermittently came in for criticism. The primary objective was to preserve an ordered society, where everyone could tell at a glance who they were dealing with, and where people knew their place.
While it’s clear that the laws were largely ignored, in broad terms they conformed to popular expectations. It was taken for granted that peers of the realm would put on a show. In the later 16th century Henry Stanley, 4th earl of Derby, routinely sported a gold chain and two diamonds, and was also famous for his golden breeches. Conversely, one of his contemporaries, Henry Howard, 2nd Viscount Howard of Bindon, scandalized polite society by periodically appearing in public dressed like a peasant. Accordingly, the sumptuary laws, by prescribing the dress appropriate to specific ranks, helped to define the terms of competition at the highest levels.
We can get a good sense of the sartorial tastes of England’s elite from their portraits, in which the costumes are generally depicted with care and precision. Such paintings are also likely to show their subjects in their most expensive outfits, such as they might have worn at court. There the benchmark was of course set by the monarch. Henry VIII and Elizabeth I in particular were famous for their magnificent clothes. The so-called ‘Ermine portrait’ of Elizabeth (ermine was both a mark of status and a symbol of virginity) clearly demonstrates the aesthetic encouraged by the sumptuary laws. Here the queen is a vision of costly silks, gold and silver embroidery, and lavish and abundant jewellery.
However, there was more than one way to create an impact within the legislative guidelines. In 1590 the 2nd earl of Essex, the queen’s favourite, was in temporary disgrace following his marriage to Frances Sidney. In a public show of penitence, he appeared at that year’s Accession Day tilt at court ‘in sable sad’, sporting black armour. Nevertheless, that was topped by a spectacular black surcoat richly embroidered with silver thread, pearls and gemstones. Having demonstrated that he was literally an ornament to the court, Essex was soon back in favour.
By the closing years of the 16th century the sumptuary laws had in fact run their course. Although Elizabethan parliaments saw more than half-a-dozen government attempts to update the legislation, only one measure was passed, a short-lived Act in 1563 banning the purchase of expensive foreign clothing on credit. While the House of Lords was happy to entrench peers’ existing privileges, Members of the Commons proved increasingly resistant to further restrictions on their own sartorial choices. The queen was instead obliged to issue a string of proclamations enforcing or modifying the sumptuary statutes. Her successor, James I, all but abandoned this struggle, and instead tried to profit from the manufacture of gold and silver thread, which had by now reached England. (Famously, his attempt to introduce silkworms to the country failed when the wrong kind of mulberry tree was employed.)
Even so, the cultural impact of the sumptuary laws lingered into the 17th century. When Richard Sackville, 3rd earl of Dorset needed an outfit for the wedding of Princess Elizabeth and the Elector Palatine in 1613, he opted for this extraordinary ensemble, which featured a doublet of cloth of silver embroidered in gold and black silk, a black velvet cloak embellished with gold and silver, and silk stockings similarly decorated with gold, silver, and black silk thread. In the light of such unashamed excess, it is no surprise that the last sumptuary bills debated by Parliament, during the 1620s, were promoted by puritans intent on banning the elitist luxury which the old legislation had encouraged.
PMH
Further reading:
Eleri Lynn, Tudor Fashion (2017)
Roy Strong, The Elizabethan Image (2019)
Anna Reynolds, In Fine Style: the Art of Tudor and Stuart Fashion (2013)
Aileen Ribeiro, Fashion and Fiction: Dress in Art and Literature in Stuart England (2005)
A biography of the 3rd earl of Dorset features in The House of Lords 1604-29 ed. Andrew Thrush (2021). Biographies of the 2nd earl of Essex, 4th earl of Derby and 2nd Viscount Howard are in preparation as part of our project on the House of Lords 1558-1603.
