The origins of the sock are, of course, shrouded in the mists of antiquity. The Greek poet Hesiod, writing in the 8th century BCE, refers to piloi, which seem to have been linings for shoes, made from felted animal hair. The poet does not say whether they were ever washed.
The Romans don't seem to have had much in the way of socks, and wrapped their feet in long strips of woven fabric or leather, which does not sound at all comfortable. About the 2nd century CE, there are mentions of udones, which were foot shaped, cut from woven fabric, felt or skins, and sewn together. They lacked elasticity and didn't fit very well.
The first knitted socks seem to have come from Egypt, or rather stayed in Egypt, as the first examples were found in tombs, dating from the 3rd to 5th century CE. The idea made slow progress into the wider world, and it is not until the time of Henry VIII of England that we hear of knitted silk stockings from Spain. Indeed the king appears to have been the first in the realm to have a pair.
Knitted silk stockings seem to have arrived in England before they appeared in France. A French historian of costume says, "The first hand-knitted silk stockings were worn by King Henri II, at the wedding of Marguerite of France with Emmanuel-Philibert of Savoy, in the month of June, 1559. The common people, and even the well-to-do classes, continued for a long time to wear stockings made of cloth."
To be able to make a present of a pair of knitted silk stockings was like giving away a Ferrari in today's terms. Sir Thomas Gresham, founder of the Royal Exchange, won the favour of Edward VI by a "grand present" of a "payre of long Spanish silke stockings, a luxurious article of raiment."
Queen Elizabeth I was given a pair of black silk stockings by her 'silk woman', Mistress Montague. After wearing them for a few days, she ordered more, declaring, "I like silk stockings so well, because they are pleasant, fine and delicate, that henceforth I will wear no more cloth stockings." Hoity-toity.
At a more humble level, William Rider, a London apprentice, on seeing a pair of knitted worsted stockings "brought from Mantua" at an Italian merchant's, borrowed them and, "having made a pair like unto them, presented the same to the Earl of Pembroke." Sock bribery was obviously rife in sixteenth century England. This was probably the first pair of worsted stocking in England.
During the reign of Elizabeth, hand knitting became established in the homes of all classes in England. Young woman took up spinning worsted yarn and knitting stockings, which no doubt stopped them going out spending money. Cloth stockings disappeared gradually as the popularity of knitting spread over Europe.
In 1583, silk stockings attracted the fury of the pamphleteer Philip Stubbs. This historic killjoy published a tirade against nearly everything, entitled the 'Anatomie of Abuses'. He seems to have been particularly enraged by "impudent insolency and shameful outrage" of the age in the matter of stockings.
"It is now grown," he goes on, warming to his task,"that every one almost, though otherwise very poor, having scarcely forty shillings of wages by the year, will not stick to have two or three pair of these silk nether-socks, or else of the finest yarn that can be got, though the price of them be a royal, or twenty shillings, or more, as commonly it is; for how long can they be less, whenas the very knitting of them is worth a noble or a royal, and some much more? The time hath been when one might have clothed all his body well from top to toe for less than a pair of these nether-socks will cost."
As an aside, this is one of the first uses of the word 'Sock'.
He seems to have been very cross with women:
"Their stockings in like manner are either of silk, Jarnsey, worsted, cruel, or at least of fine yarn thread or cloth as is possible to be had; yes, they are not ashamed to wear hose of all kinds of changeable colours, as green, red, white, russet, tawny, and else what not. These thin delicate hosen must be cunningly knit and curiously indented in every point with quirks, clocks, open seams, and everything else accordingly." The hussies.
Until nearly the end of the sixteenth century, all stockings were hand-knit. But in 1589 the Reverend William Lee, Master of Arts and Fellow of St. John's, Cambridge, enters the story. He was the Rector of the village of Calverton, near Nottingham, and the inventor of the first knitting machine - the stocking frame. He is also a candidate for the title of History's Unluckiest Man.
The machine he invented was well designed and effective. The initial design could knit eight stitches to the inch; good enough for worsted, not fine enough for silk. Its principles are the basis of all modern knitting machines, and one component, the spring beard needle is still used in today's machinery.
No less a stocking fancier than the Queen is reported to have visited Rev. Lee's workshop. However, when he applied for a patent on his invention, she refused him, saying:
"Had Mr. Lee made a machine that would have made silk stockings, I should, I think, have been somewhat justified in granting him a patent for that monopoly, which would have effected only a small number of my subjects, but to enjoy the exclusive privilege of making stockings for the whole of my subjects, is too important to be granted to any individual."
It is obvious that the Queen had been got at by the hand stocking knitters, and the answer is plain enough. Rev. Lee seems not to have understood the objection, and he improved his machine to the point where it could knit twenty stitches per inch, fine enough for silk. This gave him the potential to dominate the entire market, and not surprisingly, the answer to a renewed patent application was again "No."
A lesser man would have given up at this point, but Lee was made of tough stuff. He industriously improved his machine, making nine further models in the next five years, biding his time and waiting for the Queen to pass on. As soon as James I ascended to the throne, Lee was round at the palace again with his latest samples. He was met with complete indifference.
This would have been the end of the Reverend's ambitions, had not his invention come to the notice of the Duc de Sully, minister to Henri IV, King of France. The Duc was keen on anything that would improve the French economy and increase the tax-take. He invited Lee to France. There he was personally welcomed by the King, and with his brother, eight workmen, and eight machines, set up a new business in Rouen.
A lucky break for Lee at last? Hardly - on the very day he was to receive his patent, the King was assassinated and his notoriously obstinate and stupid wife Marie de' Medici became regent for their infant son Louis XIII. The Duc de Sully was dismissed and all royal protection was withdrawn.
Lee died in France, probably of disappointment, but his brother returned to England with most of the workmen, and started again, without patents or protection. The business prospered and England gradually became European center of hosiery manufacture, something that the Reverend William Lee might have achieved years earlier, had he used a bit of common sense.
The next development in the riveting history of sock knitting had to wait for another century and a bit and the arrival of the splendidly named Jedediah Strutt. Strutt invented an addition to the stocking frame that produced a rib stitch knit. This gave the finished sock more elasticity and a better fit. He and his three partners did obtain a patent for this device. Despite a slow start, the device eventually made Strutt a rich man.
Strutt was later in partnership with the inventor of the spinning frame, Richard Arkwright, having been introduced to him by the Nottingham banker Ichabod Wright (more splendid names) and was therefore one of the founders of the Industrial Revolution.
Sock - a short word, only four letters. We all know what it means, don't we? Well think again.
The Oxford English Dictionary has thirteen entries for the word "sock", eight as nouns and five as verbs. Within these entries, there are over 30 definitions. These include, bewilderingly:
The ones about foot covering all seem to come from the Latin word soccus, a light, low-heeled shoe or slipper. So that's quite straightforward.
The definitions that involve violence are more puzzling. They seem to arise from the practice of 18th century footpads and ruffians striking their waylayee behind the ear with a sock full of wet sand, laying him by the way and making off with the money. This technique is said to stun the victim without leaving a mark or bruise. It is not known why they would wish to preserve the appearance of their victims. Perhaps muggers of a former age were just more considerate.
The sock connection with drainage, liquid manure and the like, is a corruption of 'soak' and unconnected with the state of marathon runners' feet. Likewise the breastfeeding meaning is a corruption of 'suck'.
Jazz and other popular music seem to have adopted the sock, with sock cymbal and sock chorus, but they also figure in the invitation to be quiet - 'put a sock in it'. Brass players muted their output with a sock or screwed up rag in the bell of the instrument. This was no doubt welcome to their neighbours.
The plough meaning is totally unconnected with the other definitions and is from a Celtic word meaning, guess what, a ploughshare.
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