"Lewis," earnestly returned the boy, "it was no compliment—it was sincere."
After the death of Queen Mary, King William on one occasion paid a state visit to his little namesake, and was much gratified at being received by the child under arms, with all the military honors which a great field-marshal would pay to his sovereign.
"Have you any horses yet?" asked the King, by way of opening conversation.
"Yes," was the answer, "I have one live one and two dead ones."
"But soldiers always bury their dead horses out of their sight," said his Majesty, laughing. That laugh could not be forgotten. The moment his visitor had gone, the boy insisted on burying his two dead horses (which, of course, were animals of wood) deep down in the ground. This was done amidst much pomp and ceremony, after which Gloucester wrote an epitaph upon his two poor lamented wooden beasts.
Young as he was, this little Duke seems to have known the value of loyalty and truth. Once when a plot was discovered against the King, and it was hard to tell who might not be a traitor at heart, Gloucester sent an address to his uncle which he made every member of his boy regiment and of his household also sign.
"We your Majesty's subjects will stand by you while we have a drop of blood," ran this loyal address, upon reading which I doubt not King William ever after felt perfectly secure and at ease.
A great many stories are told of the battles, sieges, and adventures of the Duke and his boys, and the palace must have rung with their shouts. Still there was plenty of hard work as well as play.
When Gloucester was seven years old, his tutor, whom he loved, Lewis Jenkins, to the great grief of both, was dismissed, and he was placed under the charge of a bishop. Four times a year, too, a strict examination was held by four learned lords of the realm to make sure Bishop Burnet was making his pupil as wise as they thought the future King of England ought to be. Poor child! his answers on jurisprudence, the Gothic laws, and the feudal system were marvels, we are assured, but for all his study, I am afraid he knew really very little about those abstruse subjects, while it is saddening to read how all his happy sprightliness faded away under this severe course.
While visiting one of the great college libraries in Oxford, I was much pleased to discover the quaint and most deliriously funny little composition given below. It had grown yellow with age, lying for so many years stored away in its glass case, together with many other interesting hits of penmanship.