Such is said to have been really the fate of the little prisoner who used to mend the garments of M. de Bohun in the prison of Orléans; of the _costumier_ of the court masquerades at the Congress of Vienna; and of the wandering adventurer in distant seas, where he could find no one who would either acknowledge his fiats or accept his fashions. He was unable to establish himself in the world either as monarch of men or as makers of their habits. And having thus spoken of a mock king, let us consider now our English liege ladies at their respective toilets. THE TIRING-BOWERS OF QUEENS. “I could accuse the gaiety of your wardrobe And prodigal embroideries, under which Rich satins, plushes, cloth of silver, dare Not show their own complexions; your jewels, Able to burn out the spectators’ eyes, And show like bonfires on you, by the tapers: Something might here be spared, with safety of Your birth and honour, since the truest wealth Shines from the soul, and draws up just admirers.” SHIRLEY. Let us not presume to look into the primitive boudoirs of the Queens before the Conquest, and only reverently into those of the sovereign ladies who succeeded. “Tread lightly, this is sacred ground!” is an injunction not to be forgotten in this locality. The first Queen after the Norman invasion, Matilda of Flanders, who was pummelled into loving her ungallant wooer William, had a costly wardrobe. Before her death she disposed of the most valuable of her garments by will, and named therein the dressmaker who had provided them for her, a species of advertisement that ought to have made Madame Alderet’s fortune. “I give,” says the royal testatrix, “to the Abbey of the Holy Trinity my tunic, worked at Winchester, by Alderet’s wife; and the mantle embroidered with gold, which is in my chamber, to make a cope. Of my two golden girdles, I give that which is ornamented with emblems, for the purpose of suspending the lamp before the great altar.” The abbey named was at Caen, and the nuns connected therewith came in for all Matilda’s petticoats,—no indifferent legacy, for they were stiff with gold and dust. She was an elegant dresser, as far as outside show was concerned. Rufus was a bachelor, and the ladies who frequented his uproarious court were remarkable for their adoption of garments which very much disgusted the sober ladies of Saxon times. Matilda of Scotland, wife of Henry I., being graceful of form, was given to wear tight kirtles, and may be said to have brought in tight lacing. Henry’s second wife, Adalicia of Louvaine, imitated the fashion set by her predecessor. On the King’s death, she espoused the hereditary cupbearer, William de Albini, surnamed Fortembras; and if she dressed a trifle less gloriously in her bower at Arundel Castle, she at least became there the mother of a numerous progeny, who grew up and gave the fashions to the entire county of Sussex.