When Colonel John Carter died, he left to his brother Robert his cane, sword, and periwig. I believe this to be the very Valiancy periwig which, in all its snowy whiteness and air of extreme fashion, graces the head of the handsome young fellow as he is shown here. Even the portrait shares the fascination which the man is said to have had for every woman. I have a copy of it now standing on my desk, where I can glance at him as I write; and pleasant company have I found the gay young Virginian—the best of company. It is good to have a companion so handsome of feature, so personable of figure, so laughing, care free, and debonair—isn’t it, King Robert? Campaign, Ramillies, Bob, and Pigtail Wigs. Campaign, Ramillies, Bob, and Pigtail Wigs. These snowy wigs at a later date were called Adonis wigs. The cost of a handsome wig would sometimes amount to thirty, forty, and fifty guineas, though Swift grumbled at paying three guineas, and the exceedingly correct Mr. Pepys bought wigs at two and three pounds. It is not strange that they were often stolen. Gay, in his _Trivia_, thus tells the manner of their disappearance:— “Nor is the flaxen wig with safety worn; High on the shoulder, in a basket borne, Lurks the sly boy, whose hand to rapine bred, Plucks off the curling honors of the head.” In America wigs were deemed rich spoils for the sneak-thief. There was a vast trade in second-hand wigs. ’Tis said there was in Rosemary Lane in London a constantly replenished “Wig lottery.” It was, rather, a wig grab-bag. The wreck of gentility paid his last sixpence for appearances, dipped a long arm into a hole in a cask, and fished out his wig. It might be half-decent, or it might be fit only to polish shoes—worse yet, it might have been used already for that purpose. The lowest depths of everything were found in London. I doubt if we had any Rosemary Lane wig lotteries in New York, or Philadelphia, or Boston. Rev. William Welsteed. Rev. William Welsteed. An answer to a query in a modern newspaper gives the word “caxon” as descriptive of a dress-wig. It was in truth a term for a wig, but it was a cant term, a slang phrase for the worst possible wig; thus Charles Lamb Wrote:— “He had two wigs both pedantic but of different omen. The one serene, smiling, fresh-powdered, betokening a mild day. The other an old discoloured, unkempt, angry caxon denoting frequent and bloody execution.” All these wigs, even the bob-wig, were openly artificial. The manner of their make, their bindings, their fastening, as well as their material, completely destroyed any illusion which could possibly have been entertained as to their being a luxuriant crop of natural hair.