Maillard, a preacher of the day, declaimed against “gorgeous” women (“femmes à la grand’gorre”), rebuking them for their long trains, their furs, and gold ornaments. He sketched the portrait of a lawyer’s wife dressed like a princess. Other preachers drew comparisons between the poverty of the people and the self-indulgence of fine ladies. “The poor,” says one of them, “are dying of cold; while you, Madame Pompous, Madame Boastful (“la braguarde”), you have seven or eight gowns in your coffer that you do not put on thrice in the year.” So long as the bourgeoises dressed above their station, it was naturally next to impossible that the female aristocracy should not endeavour to eclipse their humbler rivals. “The married ladies, and the young ladies at the court of Louis XI., no longer wore trains to their gowns, but they wore borderings of fur and of velvet, and of other materials the same width as velvet; on their heads they wore round padded caps, with peaks half a yard in height—some more, some less—and fastened above these were long veils reaching to the ground behind, with silken girdles four or five inches wide, with both the metal work and the tissue wide and gilt, and weighing six or seven silvern ounces; and on their necks broad collars of gold of diverse workmanship.” One side of their long skirts was held up by a “troussoire” or clasp. The troussoire consisted of a chain, of more or less value, which was attached to the girdle and to which a small scent-box, some keys, and a strong clasp for holding up the gown, besides other little articles, were suspended. Olivier de la Marche in his poem of “Le Triomphe des dames” (1464), recommended fine ladies to wear costumes of allegorical and moral significance, viz., slippers of humility, shoes of diligence, stockings of perseverance, garters of firm purpose, a cotte of chastity, a waist-band of magnanimity, a pincushion of patience, a purse of liberality, a knife of justice, a ring of faith, a comb of stings, a hood of hope, &c. He spoke in jest; but Jean Juvénal des Ursins was in serious earnest, when in 1467 he told the States-General, “Another wound of the State lies in coats of silk; and as to women, God knows how they are attired, in gowns of the said material, cottes, and in many and divers ways. In bygone days we have seen how damosels and other women, by merely turning up the edge of their dresses in a fashion called “profit,” looked like handsome white cats; nowadays they make these “profits” of silk material as wide as cloth, with great horns or high towers on their heads, or couvre-chefs of stuff or silk reaching to the ground....”