DAVID MORGAN, pictured right, had some hairy moments delving into the long-lost trade of Restoration period wig-makers
A look through the burial records of the graveyard of Croydon Parish Church reveals several different trades, crafts and jobs which have long since ceased to exist, some of which most people today would have little idea what function they performed.
Wanna buy a wig? an 18th-century peruke-maker sells his wares
Of course, there were butchers and bakers although as yet, I have not come across any candlestick-makers. We have, however, found candle-makers and tallow chandlers, from a time when such goods were a day-to-day necessity.
Beer, as we discovered in the previous Sunday Supplement, was very much an essential in medieval times, and Croydon had its brewers as well.
There were clock-makers, too, which as we have recorded in these pages, was something of a speciality in these parts in the 18th and 19th centuries.
But one trade which has caught my eye, mostly because it was something I had never heard of before, was a peruke-maker.
Perukes were a type of wig that was much in fashion for the dandies of the Restoration era and through the 1700s and into the 1800s. They were very similar to the type of wigs which barristers and judges still wear for the most formal court proceedings today.
Richard Tyrrill, who died, aged 72 in 1792, was the Croydon tradesman in question. We know that he married Elizabeth Hoar in June 1747. He was 26, she was 30, and neither had been married before. On his wedding day, he was described as “a peruke-maker”.
Peruke-makers were found in most towns and cities in the 17th and 18th centuries, making wigs for their fashion-conscious clients. From the most elaborate to the basic, the wearer would be in with the fashion of the day. Peruke-makers often combined their wig-making with hairdressing, as well as selling perfumes, soaps and other toiletries.
“Peruke” derives from the word periwig.
Spoiled for choice: perukes, or periwigs, came in several styles and sizes, and resemble the kind of lawyers’ wigs still worn in courtrooms today
Samuel Pepys made interesting entries in his diaries about the wigs that he wore.
In March 1663 he wrote that he went to The Swan, where he sent for Jervas, his old wig-maker. Jervas brought a periwig but Pepys wouldn’t wear it because it was full of nits. He sent Jervas away to clean it properly.
In September 1665, Pepys had got dressed up in his very fine silk suit with his new periwig. He hadn’t worn the wig before even though he had purchased it a “good while earlier” from Westminster. That was where the plague had broken out. He was frightened that he might catch the plague from the wig, as he thought it had been made from hair that had been cut off from the heads of plague victims.
Nowadays, wigmakers can turn to synthetic hair but 300 years ago, if human locks weren’t available, then the peruke maker would turn to the animal kingdom to supply the necessary ingredients. Horsehair, dog hair and even goat hair was used.
Diary item: Samuel Pepys, in his wig, presumably without any nits…
An inventory from an American peruke maker who died in 1767 makes interesting reading.
Timothy Winship had died in Boston that year and his widow Elizabeth filed an inventory of goods from his workshop with the probate judge. That judge was Thomas Hutchinson, who ended up being buried in Croydon Parish Church after being forced out of America by the Revolution after the Boston Tea Party.
The inventory included the following items:
6 ounces white horse hair, at 1/6d per oz
1 card and brush worth 8/0d
1lb grey and brown horse hair, at 16d per lb
1 pair brushes worth 3/0d
18 ounces goat hair at 2d per oz
1 looking glass (no value given)
7 ounces Mo Grown hair (possibly mohair and no value given)
1 Lanthorn lamp
4 blocks worth 6/0d
1 table
7 wigs worth 12/0d
2 old chairs
1 dozen razors worth 12/0d
1 round chair
1 hone (a stone to sharpen razors, no value given)
Sadly, no inventory was left by Richard Tyrrill, but there are details in his will and elsewhere to help us find out a little more about him.
In his will, the two people who received the major part of his legacy were his wife, Elizabeth, and his daughter, Ann Osborn. She was the only of Elizabeth and Richard’s grown-up children still alive. A son, also named Richard, had died in 1778 aged 30.
Rich legacy: following his death in 1792, Richard Tyrrill’s will shows that his Croydon wig-making business had prospered
Elizabeth and her late husband lived in a house in Croydon as well as owning two properties in Hamsey Green, which the will described as being in the parish of Sanderstead. Elizabeth was to receive the rents and profits from these. Her husband had money in the Bank of England, too, together with some stocks and shares, although their value wasn’t written down in the will.
Tyrrill must have done well from his business, as could be seen in his property and his stocks and shares. But there was no mention of the business itself contained in the will. Perhaps he had sold it by then? In a list of Croydon businesses dated 1790, there were two peruke-makers. One was James Markby, the other was James Tyrell. Both are listed as peruke-makers and hairdressers. Was, despite the different spelling of the surnames, James Tyrell a relative of Richard Tyrrill?
Hairy business: ads for peruke-makers had appeared in Croydon business directories until the 1850s
There was an advert for a Croydon peruke-maker as late as 1856. Certain groups of professionals, in the law and in the church, still required wigs and Ethelred Cooper of 18 North End, advertised himself as a Perfumer and Peruke Maker, as well as being “Haircutter to His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury”.
John Bird Sumner, who was Archbishop at the time of the advert, could probably have had his locks trimmed and his wigs freshened up by Cooper when he stayed at Addington Palace.
By 1866, the word peruke had disappeared from the Croydon directory. The only wig-maker listed then was Edward Huntley, a perfumier and wigmaker, with premises at 31 George Street.
Wigs were subject to fashion and tax. The long wigs of the early 18th century got shorter as the century progressed. By the 1780s, many younger men were just powdering their own hair instead of wearing a wig. In 1795, the government levied a tax on hair powder, which hastened the demise of both the wig and the use of powder.
Perhaps historians 300 years in the future might be keen to look up the fashion trends in the 21st century? “I have just discovered another person who works in a Croydon nail bar. That makes 67. Why did they have so many nail bars?”
- David Morgan is a former Croydon headteacher, now the volunteer education officer at Croydon Minster, who offers tours or illustrated talks on the history around the Minster for local community groups
If you would like a group tour of Croydon Minster or want to book a school visit, then ring the Minster Office on 020 688 8104 or go to the website on www.croydonminster.org and use the contact page
Some previous articles by David Morgan:
- Dutch courage of brewer who brought his beer to Croydon
- Hymns and arias: Whitgift’s key role in Bible’s Welsh translation
- The church fire that consumed a thousand years of history
- If you have a news story about life in or around Croydon, or want to publicise your residents’ association or business, or if you have a local event to promote, please email us with full details at inside.croydon@btinternet.com
- Our comments section on every report provides all readers with an immediate “right of reply” on all our content. Our comments policy can be read by clicking here
- Inside Croydon works together with the Bureau of Investigative Journalism, as well as BBC London News and ITV London
