in
size. This tendency goes on yet further, till, towards the end of the
first century of our era and the beginning of the second,
hair-dressing shows signs of extreme elaboration. Hair is rarely left
to fall naturally, but each lock is fixed and manipulated to a
remarkable degree. The general result is far from pleasing, and the
fashion must always have been too intricate for any one of low degree
to assume. The duties of the maids to high-born ladies can have been
no sinecure, Martial (xi. 66) hints at scoldings, and Juvenal (vi.
492-502, &c.) tells us that, if the hair was not arranged quite to
the mistress's liking, the whip even was likely to come down on the
maid's shoulders. In the case of one lady who had lost her hair by too
assiduous attention to it, Ovid (Amorum, i, 14), thinks it
worth while to mention that the maid did not suffer.
“Ornatrix
tuto corpore semper erat.
Ante
meos saepe est oculos ornata; nec unquam
Brachia
derepta saucia fecit acu.”
The
general elaboration of a fashionable Roman lady's toilet and the
number of cosmetics used are amusingly described by Lucian (De
Mercede Conductis, 36, &c.).
Dr.
Henry Laver, of Colchester, has recalled to my memory a bas-relief in
stone discovered at Neumagen, and now in the Museum at Trier, where I
saw it in 1903. A lady seated in a wicker arm-chair is having her hair
dressed by a maid, while another holds a mirror for her mistress to
look at herself in it. A third person looks on (Arch. Jour., x1vi.
p. 218). The whole is a Roman version of the Greek toilet-scenes
on “stelae,” of which great numbers are preserved in the Athens
Museum.
The
full front fringe of hair (the “orbis”) had to be