No. 2. Of the Crowns.
We, can only speak to the growth and antiquity of their present "fashion," none of those now used being of older date than the reign of Charles II. This monarch issued a commission for the "remakeing such royall ornaments and regalia" as the rebellious Parliament of his father had destroyed[10], in which "the old names and fashions" were directed to be carefully sought after and retained[11]. Upon this authority, we still have the national crown with which our monarchs are actually invested called St. Edward's, although the Great Seal of the Confessor exhibits him wearing a crown of a very different shape.
Whether the parent of our present crowns were the Eastern fillet, in the tying on which there was great ceremony, according to Selden,—the Roman or Grecian wreath, a "corruptible crown" of laurel, olive, or bay,—or the Jewish diadem of gold,—we shall leave to antiquarian research.
"This high imperial type of [England's] glory"
has slowly advanced, like the monarchy itself, to its present commanding size and brilliant appearance. From the coins and seals of the respective periods, several of our Anglo-Saxon princes appear to have worn only a fillet of pearl, and others a radiated diadem, with a crescent in front. Æthelstan's crown was of a more regular shape, resembling a modern earl's coronet. On king Alfred's there was the singular addition of "two little bells;" and the identical crown worn by this prince seems to have been long preserved at Westminster, if it were not the same which is described in the Parliamentary Inventory of 1642, as "King Alfred's crowne of gould wyer worke, sett with slight stones." Sir Henry Spelman thinks, there is some reason to conjecture that "the king fell upon the composing of an imperial crown;" but what could he mean by this accompaniment?
Gradually the crown grew from ear to ear, and then from the back to the forehead; sometimes it is represented as encircling a cap or helm, and sometimes without. William the Conqueror and his successor wore it on a cap adorned with points, and with "labels hanging at each ear[12];" the Plantagenets a diadem ornamented with fleurs de lis or strawberry leaves, between which were small globes raised, or points rather lower than the leaves; Richard III. or Henry VII. introduced the crosses; about the same time (on the coins of Henry VII.) the arches first appear; and the subsequent varieties of shape are in the elevation or depression of the arches. The maiden queen wore them remarkably high.
Blood's exploit with the new crown of Charles II. is told to all the young visitors at the Tower[13]. It is only wonderful that, in that age of plots, no political object or accusation was connected with it. The beautiful dialogue which our great dramatist puts into the mouth of Henry IV. and his son, who had taken the crown from his dying father's pillow, we could willingly transcribe entire:—
"K. Henry. O foolish youth!
Thou seek'st a greatness that will overwhelm thee.
Stay but a little; for my cloud of dignity
Is held from falling by so weak a wind,
That it will quickly drop; my day is dim.
Thou hast stolen that, which after some few hours
Were thine without offence; and at my death
Thou hast sealed up my expectation;
Thy life did manifest thou lovedst me not;
And thou wilt have me die assured of it.
"P. Henry. O pardon me, my Liege! but for my tears,
(The moist impediments unto my speech,)
I had forestalled this clear and deep rebuke,
Ere you with grief had spoke, and I had heard
The course of it so far. There is your crown—
And He that wears the crown immortally
Long guard it yours!——
Coming to look on you, thinking you dead,
(And dead almost, my Liege, to think you were,)
I spake unto the crown, as having sense,
And thus upbraided it. 'The care on thee depending
Hath fed upon the body of my father;
Therefore thou best of gold art worst of gold;
Other, less fine in carat, is more precious,
Preserving life, in medicine potable:
But thou, most fine, most honoured, most renowned,
Hast eat thy bearer up!'"
It is the same prince who afterwards so well apostrophizes his own greatness:—
"O, be sick, great Greatness!
And bid thy ceremony give thee cure.
Think'st thou the fiery fever will go out
With titles blown from adulation?
Will it give place to flexure and low bending?
Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggar's knee,
Command the health of it? No, thou proud dream,
That play'st so subtly with a king's repose,
I am a king that find thee; and I know,
'Tis not the balm, the sceptre, and the ball,
The sword, the mace, the crown imperial,
The intertissued robe of gold and pearl,
The farsed title running 'fore the king,
The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp
That beats upon the high shoar of this world;
No, not all these thrice gorgeous ceremonies,
Not all these, laid in bed majestical,
Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave."