The tie-wig, an abridgment of the long curled perriwig, was worn by many, but was not considered court dress. Lord Bolingbroke, having to wait upon the queen in haste, once went to court in a tie-wig, which so offended Queen Anne, that she said to those about her, “I suppose his lordship will come to court the next time in a nightcap.” Swift writes, (1712): “As prince Eugene was going with Mr. Secretary to court, Mr. Hoffman, the Emperor’s resident, said to his highness that it was not proper to go to court without a long wig, and his was a tied up one. “Now,” says the prince, “I know not what to do, for I never had a long perriwig in my life; and I have sent to all my valets and footmen, to see whether any of them had one, that I might borrow it; but none of them had any.” But the secretary said “ was a thing of no consequence, and only observed by gentlemen ushers.” After the battle of Ramillies, the name of the Ramillie-wig was given to a wig with a long tapering tail, plaited and tied, with a great bow at the top, and a smaller one at the bottom.” The little incident of Lord Petre depriving Mrs. Fermor of a ringlet gave rise to Pope’s poem “The Rape of the Lock.” Belinda’s head-dress is thus described: “This nymph, to the destruction of mankind, Nourished two locks, which graceful hung behind In equal curls, and well conspired to deck With shining ringlets the smooth ivory neck. Love in these labyrinths his slaves detains, And mighty hearts are held in slender chains.” The poet explains how these “mazy ringlets,” owed much of their beauty to a rigorous discipline: “Was it for this you took such constant care The bodkin, comb, and essence to prepare? For this your locks in paper durance bound, For this with torturing irons wreathed around? For this with fillets strained your tender head, And bravely bore the double loads of lead?” Belinda’s lock, in imitation of the lost tresses of Berenice, is translated to the heavenly regions: “A sudden star, it shot through liquid air, And drew behind a radiant trail of hair.” A compliment to Belinda appropriately concludes the poem: “When these fair suns shall set, as set they must, And all those tresses shall be laid in dust, This lock the Muse shall consecrate to fame, And ’midst the stars inscribe Belinda’s name.” In Swift’s verses called “Death and Daphne,” we have a metaphorical description of a beau’s wig: “From her own head Megara takes A perriwig of twisted snakes, Which in the nicest fashion curl’d, (Like toupées of this upper world), With flour of sulphur powder’d well, That graceful on his shoulders fell. An adder of the sable kind In line direct hung down behind.”