The latter deserves some notice on account of its elegance and singularity. My readers can imagine the effect of a handsome Spanish toque, embroidered or braided in gold, and artistically placed at the back of the head, with the hair in curls all round the front. In addition, there were several plaits intermingled with ribbons and jewels, which fell lightly on the neck and floated in the wind. This head-dress met with little or no opposition. Transparent dresses “à l’ange,” or “à la vierge,” skirts of yellow satin, like those of Francion’s wife, and light head-dresses, were worn with very delicate and fanciful shoes. Venetian slippers were much prized, also coloured shoes with high heels. During the reign of Henri IV., Venetian and Florentine lace became so fashionable in France, that, in justice to native manufacturers, their importation was forbidden. But a system of fraudulent traffic was set up, and French vanity almost got the better of the law. The king chose to banter his minister on the extravagance of women, and Sully immediately took certain steps which succeeded in temporarily stopping the excess of expenditure on dress. Louis XIII., the son of Henri III., endeavoured to walk in the path traced out by Sully, and in 1633 and 1634 issued two fresh edicts lecturing Frenchwomen on their caprices. All the women instantly cried “Shame!” and numberless caricatures were published in defence of their cause. One artist depicted a steady tradesman of Flanders, reduced to a state of despair, tearing his hair, and wildly cursing things in general, while he tramples his embroideries under foot and exclaims:— “Que fait-on publier? que venons-nous d’entendre? Mettons bas la boutique, et de nos passements Faisons des cordes pour nous pendre!”[25] Another print bore the following title: “Pompe funèbre de la Mode, avec les larmes de Démocrite et les ris d’Héraclite.” Four women are leading Fashion along, followed by a crowd of workwomen, barbers, embroiderers, and tailors, who are endeavouring to make the best of their evil fortune, and brandishing, after the fashion of banners, wands laden with lace and finery. In the background is a sarcophagus bearing the following epitaph:— “Ci-gist sous ce tableau, pour l’avoir mérité, La Mode, qui causait tant de folie en France. La mort a fait mourir la superfluité, Et va faire bientôt revivre l’abondance.”[26] Here lieth Fashion! The ladies of the day must have laughed heartily in their sleeve at the notion of the death of Fashion; for how should they admit that it _deserved_ to die? In spite of caricatures it did, in fact, survive, and in face of all the edicts took refuge at court, as its privileged sanctuary, and the natural home of ermine, gold-laced coats, lace, and jewels.