It is impossible to disassociate the history of costume from the general history of the country where such dress is worn. Nor could any one write upon dress with discrimination and balance unless he knew thoroughly the dress of all countries and likewise the history of all countries. Of the special country, he must know more than general history, for the relations of small things to great things are too close. Influences apparently remote prove vital. At no time was history told in dress, and at no period was dress influenced by historical events more than during the seventeenth century and in the dress of English-speaking folk. The writer on dress should know the temperament and character of the dress wearer; this was of special bearing in the seventeenth century. It would be thought by any one ignorant of the character of the first Puritan settlers, and indifferent to or ignorant of historical facts, that in a new world with all the hardships, restraints, lacks, and inconveniences, no one, even the vainest woman, would think much upon dress, save that it should be warm, comfortable, ample, and durable. But, in truth, such was not the case. Even in the first years the settlers paid close attention to their attire, to its richness, its elegance, its modishness, and watched narrowly also the attire of their neighbors, not only from a distinct liking for dress, but from a careful regard of social distinctions and from a regard for the proprieties and relations of life. Dress was a badge of rank, of social standing and dignity; and class distinctions were just as zealously guarded in America, the land of liberty, as in England. The Puritan church preached simplicity of dress; but the church attendants never followed that preaching. All believed, too, that dress had a moral effect, as it certainly does; that to dress orderly and well and convenable to the existing fashions helped to preserve the morals of the individual and general welfare of the community. Eagerly did the settlers seek every year, every season, by every incoming ship, by every traveller, to learn the changes of fashions in Europe. The first native-born poet, Benjamin Tompson, is quoted in the heading of this chapter in a wail over thus following new fashions, a wail for the “good old times,” as has been the cry of “old fogy” poets and philosophers since the days of the ancient classics. We have ample proof of the love of dignity, of form, of state, which dominated even in the first struggling days; we can see the governor of Virginia when he landed, turning out his entire force in most formal attire and with full company of forty halberdiers in scarlet cloaks to attend in imposing procession the church services in the poor little church edifice—this when the settlement at Jamestown was scarce more than an encampment.