Today, choosing whether to wear a hat is a personal decision. But about 400 years ago, strict social rules governed "hatiquette," and removing a hat was expected as a sign of respect. According to a study published in The Historical Journal (Cambridge University Press), refusing to doff ("do off") a hat could serve as a deliberate and highly visible act of protest.

One striking example comes from 1630, when an outspoken oatmeal maker was brought before England's highest church court. After being told that some of the judges were also privy councillors, he briefly removed his hat in acknowledgment. But he quickly put it back on, declaring, 'as you are privy councillors ... I put off my hat; but as ye [bishops] are rags of the Beast, lo! -- I put it on again'.

This kind of behavior became more common during the turbulent reign of Charles I. As political tensions grew, refusing to remove a hat evolved into a widely recognized gesture of defiance, especially during the English Civil War.

From Social Custom to Political Protest

Historian Bernard Capp, Emeritus Professor at the University of Warwick, explains that hat etiquette once reinforced social hierarchy. "Long before the civil wars, men and boys were expected to doff their hats, indoors or out, whenever they met a superior," he says. "That was about respecting your place in society, but in the revolutionary 1640s and 1650s, hat-honor became a real gesture of defiance in the political sphere."

Prominent figures used this act to make powerful statements. In 1646, the radical Leveller John Lilburne, imprisoned in Newgate, prepared to appear before the House of Lords by resolving to 'come in with my hat upon my head, and to stop my eares when they read my Charge, in detestation'. A few years later, in 1649, Digger leaders William Everard and Gerrard Winstanley refused to remove their hats when brought before General Fairfax, insisting he was 'but their fellow Creature'. Others, including Fifth Monarchist Wentworth Day, followed suit in later prosecutions.

This gesture crossed political lines. After losing power, royalists also used it to signal resistance. Charles I himself kept his hat on during his trial in January 1649, rejecting the authority of the court. Similarly, the earl of Peterborough's son refused both to remove his hat and to enter a plea when tried for treason in 1658.

At times, elites used hat etiquette in reverse. Some royalist leaders, including Lord Capel, removed their hats before execution as a calculated appeal to the crowd. As Capp explains, "This was a sort of populist political gesture, essentially inviting the moral support of the crowd."

A Father's Unusual Punishment

Not all hat-related conflicts played out in public arenas. Professor Capp highlights a revealing domestic story involving Thomas Ellwood and his father in 1659. In an effort to control his 19-year-old son, the father confiscated all of his hats.

Ellwood later recalled: 'I was still under a kind of Confinement, unless I would have run about the Country bare-headed, like a Mad-Man'. Because going without a hat carried social stigma, he effectively remained confined at home. His repeated association with the Quakers, who were known for refusing to remove their hats, had already caused family disputes and even physical punishment.

Ellwood's memoir, published in 1714, shows how deeply ingrained these norms were. As Capp notes, "It makes no sense to us today. But in 1659, father and son just saw this as common sense. Thomas couldn't leave the house without a hat -- it would have brought too much shame on himself and his family."

Why Hat-Doffing Declined

Some historians have suggested that the rise of handshaking replaced hat-doffing, but Capp disagrees. "The handshake evolved very slowly as a mode of greeting and had no bearing on hat-honor as a gesture of deference," he says.

Instead, several factors likely contributed to the shift. Social manners gradually became less formal. Wigs also became more popular, reducing the importance of hats. In crowded cities, constantly removing one's hat may have simply become impractical. As Capp puts it, "Conventions gradually change over generations and are usually multicausal."

Hats as Protection and Social Necessity

Even after political tensions eased in the 18th century, hats remained highly valued. Court records from the Old Bailey reveal that people often prioritized their hats over money during robberies.

In 1718, William Seabrook was attacked by thieves on Finchley Common and lost about £15. When they took his hat, he pleaded for its return, and the robbers eventually tossed it back. According to the record, 'they also took away his Hat, upon which he begg'd of them not to take away his Hat and make him go home bare-headed; then they threw down his Hat in the Road and left it'.

Capp suggests there may have been an informal understanding between robbers and victims. "There seems to have been an unwritten convention that if victims meekly surrendered their valuables, they deserved at least a small favor," he says.

Health concerns also played a role. Many men wore wigs over shaved heads, making them more vulnerable to cold weather. Medical advice at the time stressed the importance of keeping the head warm, warning that going outside without a hat could lead to illness.

A 1733 case illustrates this clearly. After being robbed at gunpoint, Francis Peters handed over his valuables but protested when the thief 'snatch't off my Hat and Wig,' arguing that 'it was very unusual for Men of his Profession to take such Things, and that it being very cold it might indanger my Health'. The thief ignored him, though he later apologized when confronted in prison.

The Social Meaning of Being Bareheaded

In 18th-century England, appearing without a hat carried serious social consequences. It was often associated with extreme poverty or mental instability. As a result, people were deeply concerned about being seen bareheaded, especially in legal settings.

Capp notes, "Even in London's seedy underworld, a hat felt essential." When Thomas Ruby was tried for burglary in 1741, he 'begged very hard' to have his hat returned, explaining 'for he had none to wear'.

The significance of hats went beyond practicality. As Capp concludes, "What you wear says something about how you see yourself and the world. And the hat is so eloquent because it's so versatile -- you can position it in so many ways, take it off, wave it around, and attach messages to it."