It was long the custom for the De Courcys to wear their hat, but for a moment, in presence of their respective kings, just for the purpose of asserting their privilege, and then to doff it, like other men. The head of the family, at one of George the Third’s Drawing-rooms, thinking this not sufficient assertion of his right, continued wearing his court head-piece throughout the time he was in the “presence.” The good old King at length extinguished this poor bit of pride, by bluntly remarking, “The gentleman has a right to be covered before _me_; but even King John could give him no right to be covered before ladies.” The rebuke was most effectual; and De Courcy saw, to his horror, that the entire court, ladies, princesses, courtiers, and attendants, were wreathing a broad girdle of grins “all round his hat.” It is said that when Fox the Quaker had an interview with Charles the Second, the King observing that his “friend” kept on his beaver, immediately took off his own. “Put on thy hat, friend Charles,” said the plain gentleman. “Not so, friend George,” replied the King; “it is usual for only one man to be covered here.” It was a neat retort, and may serve as a _pendant_ to the remark of the peasant boy, whom Henri IV. had taken up behind him, and who pretended that he would take the lad where he might see the monarch. “How shall I know the King when he is among so many nobles?” said the rustic, as he rode _en croupe_ behind the sovereign, of whose identity he was ignorant. “You will know him,” said Henri, “by his being the only person who will keep his hat on.” At length the two arrived where the King’s officers awaited him, and they all uncovered as he trotted up to them. “Now, good lad,” said he, “which is the King?” “Well,” exclaimed the boy, “it must be either you or I, for we have both got our hats on!”—An old-world story, I fear, but not _mal trovato_. Hats have been of divers service in battle. The plumed hat of Henri IV. was the rallying point of his followers. In later times, the head-covering was put to good purpose by a ’cute Highlander. In the Peninsular war, one of the 93rd and a French infantry-man came upon one another in a wood. As their pieces were unloaded, they both rushed to the cover of a tree, in order to put their muskets in deadly order; but this done, neither was inclined to look out, lest the other should be beforehand with him, and let fly. At length the Highlander quietly put his feathered hat on the end of his piece, and held it a little beyond the tree, as though a head was in it, looking out. At the same moment the impatient Frenchman reconnoitered, saw his supposed advantage, and, from his rifle, sent a ball through his adversary’s bonnet; thereupon the bonny Scot calmly advanced with his loaded piece, and took his enemy prisoner without difficulty.