“Philippe de Thuan, in plain French,
Has written an elementary book of animals,
For the praise and instruction of a good and beauteous woman,
Who is the crowned Queen of England, and named Alix.”
Richard II. had a favourite greyhound named Math, “beautiful beyond description,” writes Froissart, “who would not notice or follow any but the King. Whenever Richard rode abroad the greyhound was loosed by the person who had the care of him, and that instant he ran to caress his royal master by placing his two fore-feet on his shoulders. It fell out that as the King and his cousin Henry Bolingbroke were conversing in the courtyard of Flint Castle, when their horses were preparing, the greyhound Math was untied, but, instead of running as usual to King Richard, he passed him and leaped to Henry’s shoulders, paying him every court, the same as he used to his own master.
“Henry, not acquainted with this greyhound, asked the King the meaning of his fondness.
“‘Cousin,’ replied Richard, ‘it means a great deal for you and very little for me.’
“‘How?’ said Henry, ‘pray explain it.’
“‘I understand by it,’ added the unfortunate king, ‘that this my favourite greyhound Math fondles and pays his court to you this day as King of England, which you will be, and I shall be deposed, for that the natural instinct of the creature perceives. Keep him therefore by your side, for, lo! he leaveth me, and will ever follow you.’ Henry treasured up what King Richard had said, and paid attention to the greyhound Math, who would no more follow Richard of Bordeaux, but kept by the side of Henry, as was witnessed by thirty thousand men.”
History has many pathetic traditionary stories of this kind, one of which Southey has painted in poetic colours. Roderick, the last king of the Visigoths, having escaped from the battlefield in the guise of a peasant, where he had been defeated by Count Julian and his Moorish allies, finally returned to his shattered kingdom after a hermit life of twenty years. His dog Theron alone knew him, yet not even he at once, but only after eyeing him long and wistfully, did he recognise at length his master—
“Changed as he was, and in those sordid weeds,
His royal master. And he rose and licked
His withered hand, and earnestly looked up
With eyes whose human meaning did not need
The aid of speech; and moaned as if at once
To court and chide the long withheld caress.”
Queen Mary was a lover of birds and animals, allusions to which occur in the entries relating to her household expenditure. Thus, in the year 1542, Boxley, a yeoman of the king’s chamber, was given by the princess 15s. for bringing her a present of a little spaniel. Sir Bryan Tuke sent her “a couple of little fair hounds,” evidently white Italian greyhounds, which we find frequently introduced in her portrait, and in those of her contemporaries. Then a woman of London had a present of 5s. for bringing her a bird in a cage; and the woodman of Hampton Court took charge of a white pet lark which the Princess had left there, and he was paid 3d. for bringing it to her at Westminster in April 1543.
Elizabeth, too, was very fond of singing-birds, apes, and little dogs; and there was the favourite lap-dog of Mary Queen of Scots, connected with which there is the well-known incident in the last tragic scene at Fotheringay. After the headsman had done his work, it appeared that the dog had followed its mistress, and was concealed under her clothes. When discovered it gave a short cry, and seated itself between the head and the neck, from which the blood was still flowing.