the duke looks after a toad

thanks freevintageillustrations.com pd

I had heard a little about this story, but I'm pleased to have found more details.  It seems that the Duke of Wellington (born Arthur Wellesley, 1769-1852) did indeed once serve as a kind caretaker to a toad, in order to keep a promise made to a servant's son.  Here's the story:

Touching a Tender Chord
His grace, it appears, while walking on his estate, observed a boy, the son of one of his farm or garden servants, on his knees, before a small hole in the earth, and in tears. On being asked the cause of his grief, the boy replied that the hole was the dwelling place of a tame toad, to which he every day brought food, but that, as he was to be sent off to school shortly, he was afraid his strange pet would die of hunger. "Never mind, never mind," said the duke; "you go to school and I'll take care of the toad." And so, according to the story, he did, visiting from time to time the hole, and depositing therein a handful of crumbs. The duke, it is added, was fond of exhibiting this strange charge to visitors at Strathfieldsaye and after some time wrote one of his characteristic notes to the boy, assuring him of his favorite's continued health and vigor. — London Morning Chronicle, November 19, 1852.

-- from Shriner, C. A. 1853-1945. (1918). Wit, wisdom and foibles of the great, together with numerous anecdotes illustrative of the characters of people and their rulers. New York and London: Funk & Wagnalls company. 652.
 

epitaph for a garden toad

His name was "Gobemouches," and he was a common garden toad.  Yet even a toad may be thought of fondly, and missed when it hops off to the beyond.  Such was the case with Isabel Vallé in her slender volume of verse epitaphs for her animal friends, in which we find this brief lament:

Oh, kind Gobemouches

Why did you die?

We miss you so,

The flowers and I!

At least she liked Gobemouches.  I'm not sure she was so fond of kitty Pasht:

PASHT 

A Cat 

Feathered folk, give thanks! Rejoice! 

To your throats let songs upgush! 

Stilled is now her hated voice, 

Rots our foe beneath this bush!

Even though Vallé was not the most skillful of poets, she did have this strikingly heartfelt gift to offer the memory of her dog Lupetta:

LUPETTA 

A Little Florentine Dog 

Within my heart I kept her locked 

A treasure none might see; 

But grinning Death stood by and mocked, 

He held a master key! 

Soon open wide he flung the door 

And took my golden one 

And stole the color from the shore 

And sea, and sky, and sun!

-- from Valle, I. (1916). Epitaphs of some dear dumb beasts. Boston [Mass.]: The Gorham Press.

something about toads

(That's the actual title of the chapter from which these anecdotes of pet toads were found.)

. . . Toads are capable of friendly sentiments, and can be domesticated. For several years one lived just under the pantry window at our old homestead, and would come forth from his hole when called, and eat the bread-crumbs that were given to him. It was a damp place, and large toad-stools grew near; and I remember I used to think he sat on them, of course; but I never caught him at it. I believe they are another superstition. This toad was thought to be one of the oldest inhabitants of those parts. He was very stout, seemed stiff and gouty, and had but one eye, which gave him a rather sinister aspect.
Willis, the poet, had at his lovely home, called "Glen-Mary," a pet toad, which haunted, season after season, a particular path through the lawn. When Mr. Willis left this dear spot, he commended his portly protege to the kind tolerance of the next proprietor; begged him, when mowing the lawn, to remember the poor old toad's whereabouts, and not "slice him up" with the scythe.
I remember a pleasant little story of the Duke of Wellington offering to feed for a week the pet toad of a little friend, while the child was obliged to be absent. Wood, in his Natural History, tells of a pet toad which had lived for years in a family, and supped daintily every night on lumps of sugar. . . 

I believe "Willis, the poet" is Nathaniel Parker Willis.  

From Greenwood, G. (1874). Heads and tails: studies and stories of pets. New York: The American News Company. 93-94.