Читать книгу Lord William Beresford, V.C., Some Memories of a Famous Sportsman, Soldier and Wit онлайн

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“Accursed he who brings to light of day

The writings I have cast away;

But blessed he who stirs them not,

But lets the kind worms eat the lot.”

Certainly Lord William’s letters were short and sweet; he did not commit more to writing than he could help, thereby proving that he was a wise man.

Five years were spent at Eton, and they were spoken of as happy ones. Even at that early age his passion for racing betrayed itself and led to trouble, for on one occasion the attractions of Ascot became too much for him. Knowing that if he asked for leave to go it would be denied him, he took French leave, and received a whacking on his return, which reminds me that before Lord William’s time a certain flogging block belonging to the College disappeared one day, having been kidnapped by one of the Beresfords, the third Marquess, I think, when he was at Eton, and is now in evidence at Curraghmore, or was a few years ago. As far as I can gather there was no hue and cry after that interesting piece of furniture, and the next time there was any whacking to be done another block was found to be reigning in its stead; so presumably there was a supply kept in the store-room among the pickles and the jam.