"So charming may she now appear; and you, the feathered choristers of nature, whose sweetest notes not even Handel can excel, tune your melodious throats to celebrate her appearance. From love proceeds your music, and to love it returns. Awake, therefore," &c.
If one were fortunate enough to possess the power of description and imagination of a Fielding, methinks the crinoline would provide a sufficiently inspiring theme.
It has been said that Milton was a man from his birth. The crinoline, like Milton, is an exception to every law of development. It had, like Milton, neither infancy nor adolescence, but sprang full armed, like "Athene from the brain of Zeus," or perhaps, like Topsy in "Uncle Tom's Cabin," it never was born, but just "growed"—and it grew—like a mushroom (which indeed in form it somewhat resembles), in a night. Or, to adopt yet another comparison, like the sun, which bursts in the morning suddenly in its full refulgence, is obscured for a time by clouds, to blaze again in unabated splendour, and in its turn is again obscured, but only to reappear in glorious sunset.
The crinoletta, which followed, may be described as the twilight or sweet afterglow—beautiful, tender as the blush on a maiden's cheek, and almost as evanescent, but with none of the glory of the preceding day.
QUEEN CHARLOTTE.
After Gainsborough.
In the charming passage from Fielding above quoted, Love, it will be seen, figures as the presiding spirit. This is peculiarly appropriate to the present subject, for, be it known, Dan Cupid begat the crinoline. It is said to have been originally invented for the purpose of concealing the illicit amours of a Princess of Spain; but singularly enough, and in a sort of contradictory spirit, is first identified with the august person of the "Maiden Queen."
The earlier portraits of Elizabeth exhibit her in a dress similar to that of her sister and predecessor, and in an interesting portrait of Catherine Parr at Glendon Hall, Northamptonshire, this Queen appears in a richly embroidered petticoat widened at the base. A similar petticoat or kirtle, widened a little at the hips, is shown in the portrait of Mary, Queen of Scots, with Darnley ([p. 169]). The hooped petticoat or vardingale, however, appears only in the later portraits of Elizabeth. In the famous print by William Rogers, of which a reproduction is given, she is figured in the great ruff with which she is most identified, the interminable stomacher, and the enormous wheel farthingale, with, as Walpole observes, "a bushel of pearls bestrewed over the entire figure"; she also wears a long light mantle edged with lace, a portentous collar, also edged with lace, expanding like wings on either side of the head. She carries the ball and sceptre in her hands.