THE GREYHOUND’S WARNING

Western Star, Issue 950, 23 May 1885, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE GREYHOUND’S WARNING

Here is an old story told by a lady once in attendance upon the Royal family in the days of. King Charles I. Hampton Court Palace, which is still in perfect preservation, was a grand old English manor in days that that are dim in history. Here Charles I. and his beatuiful girl queen passed their honey-moon. The honeymoon went quietly by, and the best days of the king’s life passed, and the storm of the English Revolution began to gather. The queen fled away for safety, and the king found himself a prisoner in Hampton Court Palace. Two of his children were with him much of his time in these perilous days—the Princess Elizabeth and the young Duke of Gloucester. The Princess Elizabeth was her father’s favourite, a tenderhearted, fair-haired girl; it was to her, as he took her on his knee, that the ting confided his last messages to the queen before his execution.! The king Had a favouritehound. It was always with him when he was alone or with his children; it guarded the door ot his chamber at night, its only delight seemed to be to do the bidding of his royal master, and to receive his caresses.

Charles was one day amusing himself with his children in the Hampton Court garden, when a wild-looking woman drew near, and holding out a thin hand, said—- “ Aims?” , ■: i •

She was a strange fright of a creature, and the children thoughtlessly laughed at her, which sent the blood tingling into the furrows of her cheek. “ Who are you ?”. asked the king ? “ They call me a gypsy,” answered the woman, assuming a mysterious look. “ 1 foretell events.”

The king was not overawed by her air of mystery, but told her that she must at once leave the place. She moved away darkly and sullenly, when the; children uttered an audible laugh.; She caught the sound and turned sharply. The king was caressing the hound. The fact that a brute was faring better ithan she seemed to increase her bitter feeling. “ He can play: now,’* she said* looking enviously,at the dog. “ Let him. A dog. will howl one day, and then the kingdom will want for a king ; then the kingdom will go.” ( The, king seemed to be disturbed by the evil prophecy. He addressed the woman in a softer tone, and goffered her money. The . black lines faded partly out of her face, and she curtsied lower and said ; f j >.

“ A dog,will die in this palace one day • then the kingdom shall be restored again.” . People were very prone to believe in omens, signs, and fortune-telling at this time, and the gipsy’s words became known in the palace, and were treasured up to see if they would come to pass. The civil war grew more fierce. The king began secretly to plan an escape from Hampton Court. He was really a prisoner in his. palace ; old friends were everywhere turning against him, and he was sometimes made to feel that his only friend, except his children, was his faithful hound.

“Poor thing, he is faithful to me,” said the king one day, “ but how can tbe faithful ? I may leave you one day, good fellow, and then a dog will howl. It is a pitiable case when a king cannot be true even to a dog.”

It was toward the close of a dark afternoon. The palace gardens were obscured in a dark mist. The king ate an earlo supper, then retired with his favourite dog. The little duke and the princess were waiting the return of their father in a dimly-lighted room near the banquet*hall. He did not come. Suddenly the pitiful howl of the king’s hoiind broke the silence of the palace. The. children started to go to their father’s chamber, but were ordered back .by an attendant. In their retreat they again heard the hou»4 utter the same friendless, pit-

ecus how]. The children passed silently through the empty apartments, and were startled again by a heavy sound heard at the chamber door above. It was answered by a sharp bark from the hound, “ Eather must have gone,” said the princess. " What made the dog howl so?”

There was a crash at the door above.

“ They are breaking into his room,” said the prince. “ Let us go to him.” There was a hurried step and a cry on the stairs. The children drew back; the hound came bounding down, and ran to them in anxiety and terror. There were more footstep on the stairs, and another cry : “ Give the alarm, the king has escaped!” Years pass. The stormy scenes of the English Revolution are over; King Charles I. has long slept in the vaults of St. George’s Chapel. There came to Hampton Court Palace one late summer day Oliver Cromwell, Protector of the Commonwealth of England. He, too, was attended by a faithful dog. He slept in the old royal apartment, and hia dog kept guard at the door* He awoke one morning, but his dog did not come to him. He arose and found that the trusty animal was dead. Oliver Cromwell was a stern man; but like moat men of that day, he was superstitious, and had heard of the withered gipsy’s prophecy. He was shaken in health, and the sight of the dead dog awakened his nervous fears.

“ Alas!” he said, “ the kingdom has departed.” Cromwell died the next morning, and Charles 11. came to the throne amid great rejoicings.