At the distance of a mile from the kennel is Swinley Lodge, the official residence of the Master of the Stag-hounds.
The stag-hound is a beautiful animal. He is distinguished from the fox-hound by the apparent broadness and shortness of his head, his longer cheek, his straighter hock, his wider thigh and deeper chest, and better feathered and more beautifully arched tail. His appearance indicates strength and stoutness, in which indeed he is unequalled, and he has sufficient speed to render it difficult for the best horses long to keep pace with him; while, as is necessary, when the distance between the footmarks of the deer is considered, his scent is most exquisite. He is far seldomer at fault than any other hound except the blood-hound, and rarely fails of running down his game.
Of the stoutness of this dog, the following anecdotes will be a sufficient illustration. A deer, in the spring of 1822, was turned out before the Earl of Derby’s hounds in Hayes Common. The chase was continued nearly four hours without a check, when, being almost run down, the animal took refuge in some outhouses near Speldhurst in Kent, more than forty miles across the country, and having actually run more than fifty miles. Nearly twenty horses died in the field, or in consequence of the severity of the chase.
A stag was turned out at Wingfield Park, in Northumberland. The whole pack, with the exception of two hounds, was, after a long run, thrown out. The stag returned to his accustomed haunt, and, as his last effort, leaped the wall of the park, and lay down and died. One of the hounds, unable to clear the wall, fell and expired, and the other was found dead at a little distance. They had run about forty miles.
“When the stag first hears the cry of the hounds, he runs with the swiftness of the wind, and continues to run as long as any sound of his pursuers can be distinguished. That having ceased, he pauses and looks carefully around him; but before he can determine what course to pursue, the cry of the pack again forces itself upon his attention. Once more he darts away, and after a while again pauses. His strength perhaps begins to fail, and he has recourse to stratagem in order to escape. He practises the doubling and the crossing of the fox or the hare. This being useless, he attempts to escape by plunging into some lake or river that happens to lie in his way, and when, at last, every attempt to escape proves abortive, he boldly faces his pursuers, and attacks the first dog or man who approaches him.” [24]
SOUTHERN HOUND.
There used to be in the south of Devon a pack or cry of the genuine old English or southern hounds. There is some reason to believe that this was the original stock of the island, or of this part of the island, and that this hound was used by the ancient Britons in the chase of the larger kinds of game with which the country formerly abounded. Its distinguishing characters are its size and general heavy appearance; its great length of body, deep chest, and ears remarkably large and pendulous. The tones of its voice were peculiarly deep. It answered the description of Shakspeare:
“So flewed, so sanded; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew; Crook-knee’d, and dew-lapp’d, like Thessalian bulls; Slow in pursuit, but match’d in mouth like bells, Each under each.”
It was the slowness of the breed which occasioned its disuse. Several of them, however, remained not long ago at a village called Aveton Gifford, in Devonshire, in the neighbourhood of which some of the most opulent of the farmers used to keep two or three dogs each. When fox-hunting had assumed somewhat of its modern form, the chase was followed by a slow heavy hound, whose excellent olfactory organs enabled him to carry on the scent a considerable time after the fox-hound passed, and also over grassy fallows, and hard roads, and other places, where the modern high-bred fox-hound would not be able to recognise it. Hence the chase continued for double the duration which it does at present, and hence may be seen the reason why the old English hunter, so celebrated in former days and so great a favourite among sportsmen of the old school, was enabled to perform those feats which were exultingly bruited in his praise. The fact is, that the hounds and the horse were well matched. If the latter possessed not the speed of the Meltonian hunter, the hounds were equally slow and stanch.
THE BLOOD-HOUND.
This dog does not materially differ in appearance from the old deer-hound of a larger size, trained to hunt the human being instead of the quadruped. If once put on the track of a supposed robber, he would unerringly follow him to his retreat, although at the distance of many a mile. Such a breed was necessary when neither the private individual nor the government had other means to detect the offender. Generally speaking, however, the blood-hound of former days would not injure the culprit that did not attempt to escape, but would lie down quietly and give notice by a loud and peculiar howl what kind of prey he had found. Some, however, of a savage disposition, or trained to unnatural ferocity, would tear to pieces the hunted wretch, if timely rescue did not arrive.
Hounds of every kind, both great and small, may be broken in to follow any particular scent, and especially when they are feelingly convinced that they are not to hunt any other. This is the case with the blood-hound. He is destined to one particular object of pursuit, and a total stranger with regard to every other.
In the border country between England and Scotland, and until the union of the two kingdoms, these dogs were absolutely necessary for the preservation of property, and the detection of robbery and murder. A tax was levied on the inhabitants for the maintenance of a certain number of blood-hounds. When, however, the civic government had sufficient power to detect and punish crime, this dangerous breed of hounds fell into disuse and was systematically discouraged. It, nevertheless, at the present day, is often bred by the rangers in large forests or parks to track the deer-stealer, but oftener to find the wounded deer.
The blood-hound is taller and better formed than the deer-hound. It has large and deep ears, the forehead broad and the muzzle narrow. The expression of the countenance is mild and pleasing, when the dog is not excited; but, when he is following the robber, his ferocity becomes truly alarming.
The Thrapstone Association lately trained a blood-hound for the detection of sheepstealers. In order to prove the utility of this dog, a person whom he had not seen was ordered to run as far and as fast as his strength would permit. An hour afterwards the hound was brought out. He was placed on the spot whence the man had started. He almost immediately detected the scent and broke away, and, after a chase of an hour and a half, found him concealed in a tree, fifteen miles distant.
Mr. John Lawrence says, that a servant, discharged by a sporting country gentleman, broke into his stables by night, and cut off the ears and tail of a favourite hunter. As soon as it was discovered, a blood-hound was brought into the stable, who at once detected the scent of the miscreant, and traced it more than twenty miles. He then stopped at a door, whence no power could move him. Being at length admitted, he ran to the top of the house, and, bursting open the door of a garret, found the object that he sought in bed, and would have torn him to pieces, had not the huntsman, who had followed him on a fleet horse, rushed up after him.
Somerville thus describes the use to which he was generally put, in pursuit of the robber:
“Soon the sagacious brute, his curling tail Flourished in air, low bending, plies around His busy nose, the steaming vapour snuffs Inquisitive, nor leaves one turf untried, Till, conscious of the recent stains, his heart Beats quick. His snuffing nose, his active tail, Attest his joy. Then, with deep opening mouth, That makes the welkin tremble, he proclaims Th’ audacious felon. Foot by foot he marks His winding way. Over the watery ford,
Dry sandy heaths, and stony barren hills, Unerring he pursues, till at the cot
Arrived, and seizing by his guilty throat The caitiff vile, redeems the captive prey.”
THE SETTER
is evidently the large spaniel improved to his peculiar size and beauty, and taught another way of marking his game, viz., by ‘setting’ or crouching. If the form of the dog were not sufficiently satisfactory on this point, we might have recourse to history for information on it. Mr. Daniel, in his ‘Rural Sports’, has preserved a document, dated in the year 1685, in which a yeoman binds himself for the sum of ten shillings, fully and effectually to teach a spaniel to ‘sit’ partridges and pheasants.
[As this old document may prove interesting to the curious, we take the liberty of inserting it, knowing full well, that Mr. Daniel’s work is quite rare in this country, and copies of it are not easily obtained even in England.
Ribbesford, Oct. 7, 1685,
“I, John Harris, of Willdon, in the parish of Hastlebury, in the county of Worcester, yeoman, for and in consideration of ten shillings of lawful English money this day received of Henry Herbert of Ribbesford, in the said county, Esqr., and of thirty shillings more of like money by him promised to be hereafter pay’d me, do hereby covenant and promise to and with the said Henry Herbert, his exors and admors, that I will, from the day of the date hereof, untill the first day of March next, well and sufficiently mayntayne and keepe a Spanile Bitch named Quand, this day delivered into my custody by the said Henry Herbert, and will, before the first day of March next, fully and effectually traine up and teach the said Bitch to sitt Partridges, Pheasants, and other game, as well and exactly as the best sitting Doggers usually sett the same. And the said bitch, so trayned and taught, shall and will delivere to the said Henry Herbert, or whom he shall appoint to receive her, att his house in Ribbesford aforesaid, on the first day of March next. And if at anytime after the said Bitch shall, for want of use or practice, or orwise, forgett to sett Game as aforesaid, I will, at my costes and charges, maynetayne her for a month, or longer, as often as need shall require, to trayne up and teach her to sett Game as aforesaid, and shall and will, fully and effectually, teach her to sett Game as well and exactly as is above mentyon’d.
Witness my hand and seal the day and year first above written,
John Harris, his X mark.
Sealed and delivered in presence of
H. Payne, his X mark.”
L.]
The first person, however, who systematically broke-in setting dogs is supposed to have been Dudley Duke of Northumberland in 1335.
A singular dog-cause was tried in Westminster, in July, 1822. At a previous trial it was determined that the mere possession of a dog, generally used for destroying game, was sufficient proof of its being actually so used. Mr. Justice Best, however, determined that a man might be a breeder of such dogs without using them as game-dogs; and Mr. Justice Bailey thought that if a game-dog was kept in a yard, chained up by day, and let loose at night, and, being so trained as to guard the preimises, he was to be considered as a yard-dog, and not as a game-dog.
The setter is used for the same purpose as the pointer, and there is great difference of opinion with regard to their relative value as sporting-dogs. Setters are not so numerous; and they are dearer, and with great difficulty obtained pure. It was long the fashion to cross and mix them with the pointer, by which no benefit was obtained, but the beauty of the dog materially impaired; many Irish sportsmen, however, were exceedingly careful to preserve the breed pure. Nothing of the pointer can be traced in them, and they are useful and beautiful dogs, altogether different in appearance from either the English or Scotch setter. The Irish sportsmen are, perhaps, a little too much prejudiced with regard to particular colours. Their dogs ate either very red, or red and white, or lemon-coloured, or white, patched with deep chestnut; and it was necessary for them to have a black nose, and a black roof to the mouth. This peculiar dye is supposed to be as necessary to a good and genuine Irish setter as is the palate of a Blenheim spaniel to the purity of his breed. A true Irish setter will obtain a higher price than either an English or Scotch one. Fifty guineas constituted no unusual price for a brace of them, and even two hundred guineas have been given. It is nevertheless, doubtful whether they do in reality so much exceed the other breeds, and whether, although stout and hard-working dogs, and with excellent scent, they are not somewhat too headstrong and unruly.
The setter is more active than the pointer. He has greater spirit and strength. He will better stand continued hard work. He will generally take the water when necessary, and, retaining the character of the breed, is more companionable and attached. He loves his master for himself, and not, like the pointer, merely for the pleasure he shares with him. His somewhat inferior scent, however, makes him a little too apt to run into his game, and he occasionally has a will of his own. He requires good breaking, and plenty of work; but that breaking must be of a peculiar character: it must not partake of the severity which too often accompanies, and unnecessarily so, the tuition of the pointer. He has more animal spirit than the pointer, but he has not so much patient courage; and the chastisement, sometimes unnecessary and cruel, but leaving the pointer perfect in his work, and eager for it too, would make the setter disgusted with it, and leave him a mere ‘blinker’. It is difficult, however, always to decide the claim of superiority between these dogs. He that has a good one of either breed may be content, but the lineage of that dog must be pure. The setter, with much of the pointer in him, loses something in activity and endurance; and the pointer, crossed with the setter, may have a degree of wildness and obstinacy, not a little annoying to his owner. The setter may be preferable when the ground is hard and rough; for he does not soon become foot-sore. He may even answer the purpose of a springer for pheasants and woodcocks, and may be valuable in recovering a wounded bird. His scent may frequently be superior to that of the pointer, and sufficiently accurate to distinguish, better than the pointer, when the game is sprung; but the steadiness and obedience of the pointer will generally give him the preference, especially in a fair and tolerably smooth country. At the beginning of a season, and until the weather is hot, the pointer will have a decided advantage.
[We beg leave to finish this history of the setter by referring to our essay on this dog, published in vol. xv, No. 47, of the “New York Spirit of the Times”, or as lately transferred to the pages of an interesting and valuable sporting work, about being published by our esteemed friend, Wm. A. Porter, and from which we now abstract our remarks upon
THE MERITS OF THE SETTER COMPARED WITH THOSE OF THE POINTER.
It cannot for a moment be doubted that the setter has superior advantages to the pointer, for hunting over our uncleared country, although the pointer has many qualities that recommend him to the sportsman, that the setter does not possess. In the first place, the extreme hardiness and swiftness of foot, natural to the setter, enables him to get over much more ground than the pointer, in the same space of time. Their feet also, being more hard and firm, are not so liable to become sore from contact with our frozen ground. The ball pads being well protected by the spaniel toe-tufts, are less likely to be wounded by the thorns and burs with which our woods are crowded during the winter season. His natural enthusiasm for hunting, coupled with his superior physical powers, enables him to stand much more work than the pointer, and oftentimes he appears quite fresh upon a long continued hunt, when the other will be found drooping and inattentive.
The long, thick fur of the setter, enables him to wend his way through briary thickets without injury to himself, when a similar attempt on the part of a pointer, would result in his ears, tail, and body being lacerated and streaming with blood.
On the other hand, the pointer is superior to the setter in retaining his acquired powers for hunting, and not being naturally enthusiastic in pursuit of game, he is more easily broken and kept in proper subjection.
The setter frequently requires a partial rebreaking at the commencement of each season, in his younger days, owing to the natural eagerness with which he resumes the sport. The necessity of this, however, diminishes with age, as the character and habits of the dog become more settled, and then we may take them into the field, with a perfect assurance of their behaving quite as well on the first hunt of the season, as the stanchest pointer would.
The extreme caution, and mechanical powers of the pointer in the field, is a barrier to his flushing the birds, as is often witnessed in the precipitate running of the setter, who winds the game and frequently overruns it in his great anxiety to come up with it. But this occasional fault on the part of the setter, may be counterbalanced by the larger quantity of game that he usually finds in a day’s hunt, owing to his enthusiasm and swiftness of foot. Setters require much more water while hunting than the pointer, owing to their thick covering of fur, encouraging a greater amount of insensible perspiration to fly off than the thin and short dress of the pointer. Consequently they are better calculated to hunt in the coldest seasons than early in our falls, which are frequently quite dry and warm.
A striking instance of this fact came under our own immediate observation this fall, when shooting in a range of country thinly settled and uncommonly dry. The day being warm and the birds scarce, the dogs suffered greatly from thirst, in so much that a very fine setter of uncommon bottom, was forced to give up entirely, completely prostrated, foaming at the mouth in the most alarming manner, breathing heavily, and vomiting from time to time a thick frothy mucus.
His prostration of both muscular and nervous powers was so great, that he could neither smell nor take the slightest notice of a bird, although placed at his nose. He could barely manage to drag one leg after the other, stopping to rest every few moments, and we were fearful that we should be obliged to shoulder and carry him to a farm-house, a considerable distance off. However, he succeeded, with much difficulty, in reaching the well, where he greedily drank several pints of water administered to him with caution.
He recovered almost immediately, gave me a look of thanks, and was off to the fields in a few moments, where he soon found a fine covey of birds.
The pointer, his associate in the day’s work, and a much less hardy dog, stood the hunt remarkably well, and seemed to suffer little or no inconvenience from the want of water. The setter has natural claims upon the sportsman and man generally, in his affectionate disposition and attachment to his master, and the many winning manners he exhibits towards those by whom he is caressed.
The pointer displays but little fondness for those by whom he is surrounded, and hunts equally as well for a stranger as his master.–L.]
Of the difference between the old English setter and the setters of the present day, we confess that we are ignorant, except that the first was the pure spaniel improved, and the latter the spaniel crossed too frequently with the pointer.
It must be acknowledged, that of companionableness, and disinterested attachment and gratitude, the pointer knows comparatively little. If he is a docile and obedient servant in the field, it is all we want. The setter is unquestionably his superior in every amiable quality. Mr. Blaine says, that a large setter, ill with the distemper, had been nursed by a lady more than three weeks. At length he became so ill as to be placed in a bed, where he remained a couple of days in a dying state. After a short absence, the lady, re-entering the room, observed him to fix his eyes attentively on her, and make an effort to crawl across the bed towards her. This he accomplished, evidently for the sole purpose of licking her hand, after which he immediately expired.
[Daniel Lambert celebrated for his enormous magnitude, weighing seven hundred and thirty-nine pounds, had a very superior breed of sellers, which were publicly sold, at the following prices; after his death, which forcibly illustrates the immense value placed on this dog in England; whereas, many American sportsmen considers it a great hardship to be obliged to give thirty or forty dollars for a well-bred setter in this country.
Guineas
Peg, a black Setter Bitch……………………..41 Punch, a Setter Dog…………………………….26 Brush, do ……………………………………17 Bob, do……………………………………..30 Bell, do……………………………………. 32 Bounce, do……………………………………..22 Sam, do……………………………………..26 Charlotte, a Pointer Bitch………………………….22 Lucy, do……………………………………..12 ——
218 –L.]
The pointer is evidently descended from the hound.
[We beg leave to make the following extracts from our essay on this subject, published in No. 1, vol. xvi, of the “Spirit of the Times”:
The origin of the pointer, like that of the setter, is involved in much obscurity; he is of mixed blood, and no doubt largely indebted to both hound and spaniel for his distinct existence.
Many sportsmen are under the erroneous idea that the pointer is contemporary with, if not older than, the Setter. Such, however, is not the case; and we are led to believe that the Pointer is of quite modern origin; at all events, the production of a much later date than the spaniel.
Strut, in his “Sports and Pastimes”, chap. 1, sects. xv. and xvi., mentions a MS. in the Cotton Library, originally written by William Twici, or Twety, Grand Huntsman to Edward II, who ascended the throne in 1307.
This manuscript contains the earliest treatise on hunting that the English possess, and enumerates the various kinds of game and different species of dogs then in existence, as also the modes of taking the former and using the latter.
After describing, in the usual minute manner, the specific employment of each dog, he finishes by stating:
“The spaniel was for use in hawking, hys crafte is for the perdrich or partridge, and the quail; and when taught to couch, he is very serviceable to the fowler, who takes these birds with nets.”
No mention is made in this treatise of the pointer, and we naturally infer that he did not exist, or he would have been noticed in connexion with the spaniel, who, it appears, even at this early period, was taught to ‘couch’ on and point out game to those employed in netting it.
In the early portion of the sixteenth century, we have another enumeration of dogs, ‘then’ in use, in a book entitled–“A Jewel for Gentrie;” which, besides the dogs already descanted upon by Twici, we find added to the list,
“bastards and mongrels, lemors, kenets, terrours, butchers’ hounds, dung-hill dogs, trindel-tailed dogs, prychercard curs, and ladies’ puppies.”
(Chap. 1st., Sec. XVI.–Strut.)
The pointer being the offspring of the fox-hound and spaniel, is consequently sprung from the two ancient races known as ‘Sagaces’ and ‘Pugnaces’ or ‘Bellicosi’. He certainly evinces a larger share of the ‘Bellicosi’ blood than the setter, being ever ready for fight when assailed, while the latter generally exhibits a conciliatory disposition under the most trying circumstances.–L.]
It is the fox-hound searching for game by the scent, but more perfectly under the control of the sportsman, repressing his cry of joy when he finds his game, and his momentary pause, and gathering himself up in order to spring upon it artificially, converted into a steady and deliberate point. There still remains a strong resemblance, in countenance and in form, between the pointer and the fox-hound, except that the muzzle is shorter, and the ears smaller, and partly pendulous.
Seventy or eighty years ago, the breed of pointers was nearly white, or varied with liver-coloured spots; some, however, belonging to the Duke of Kingston, were perfectly black. This peculiarity of colour was supposed to be connected with exquisite perfection of scent. That is not the case with the present black pointers, who are not superior to any others.
Mr. Daniel relates an anecdote of one of his pointers. He had a dog that would always go round close to the hedges of a field before he would quarter his ground. He seemed to have observed that he most frequently found his game in the course of this circuit. [25]
Mr. Johnson gives the following characteristic sketches of the different breeds of pointer:
THE SPANISH POINTER,
originally a native of Spain, was once considered to be a valuable dog. He stood higher on his legs, but was too large and heavy in his limbs, and had widely spread, ugly feet, exposing him to frequent lameness. His muzzle and head were large, corresponding with the acuteness of his smell. His ears were large and pendent, and his body ill-formed. He was naturally an ill-tempered dog, growling at the hand that would caress him, even although it were his master’s. He stood steadily to his birds; but it was difficult to break him of chasing the hare. He was deficient in speed. His redeeming quality was his excellent scent, unequalled in any other kind of dog.
[To convince our readers of the value of this particular breed, we may mention the very singular sale of Colonel Thornton’s dog Dash, who was purchased by Sir Richard Symons for one hundred and sixty pounds worth of champagne and burgundy, a hogshead of of claret, and an elegant gun and another pointer, with a stipulation that if any accident befell the dog, he was to be returned to his former owner for fifty guineas. Dash unfortunately broke his leg, and in accordance with the agreement of sale was returned to the Colonel, who considered him a fortunate acquisition as a stallion to breed from. (See Blain or Daniel).–L.]
THE PORTUGESE POINTER,
although with a slighter form than the Spanish one, is defective in the feet, often crooked in the legs, and of a quarrelsome disposition. He soon tires, and is much inclined to chase the hare. The tail is larger than that of the spaniel, and fully fringed.
THE FRENCH POINTER
is distinguished by a furrow between his nostrils, which materially interferes with the acuteness of smell. He is better formed and more active than either the Spanish or Portugese dog, and capable of longer continued exertion; but he is apt to be quarrelsome, and is too fond of chasing the hare.
[We will close this account of the Pointer by transferring from the pages of the “Spirit of the Times” our remarks upon this particular breed.
The French variety, as described by English authors, is much smaller than either of the above breeds; and although possessed of great beauty, acute scent, and other qualifications that would render him valuable in their eyes, still is considered much inferior, not being able to cope with their dogs in hunting, owing to a want of physical power of endurance.
Youatt states, that he is distinguished by a furrow in his nose, which materially interferes with his acuteness of smell.
These accounts do not agree with the French writers, to whom, it is very true, the English should not look for any particular information respecting hunting or shooting. Nevertheless, all must admit that they are quite as capable of describing their particular breeds of animals as other nations; and, in fact, we might go farther, and say that they are much more competent to the task than English writers, judging from their extensive knowledge in comparative anatomy, and their long array of celebrated writers on natural history–the Cuviers, Buffon, &c.
‘Baudrillart’, in his ‘Dictionnaire des Chases’, describes the French Pointer as having endurance and great industry, and of their being used oftentimes solely for ‘la grande chasse’. In the atlas of plates accompanying this interesting work, will be found two distinct and extremely correct drawings of the English Pointer, and also an engraving of the French variety, which latter, certainly, is represented as being equally, if not more muscular and and hardy, than the English.
As for the furrow in the nose, as mentioned by Youatt, no reference is made to it in connection with this species, and in the engraving the nose is square. But in describing another variety, known in France as coming from Spain, ‘Baudrillart’ states, that they are vulgarly called “a deux nez, parceque ce chien a les narines separees par une gouttiere.”
As for Mr. Youatt’s declaration in reference to the furrow in the nose “materially interfering with the acuteness of smell,” I cannot understand how, or on what principle of reasoning, this slight deviation from nature should affect the properties of the olfactory apparatus. That these furrow-nosed dogs are inferior to the English in scenting powers, as stated by Mr. Youatt, we do not question; but that their deficiency depends upon this furrow, remains to be proved.
This furrow in the nose is merely a deformity, and like many others in various breeds of animals, was solely the result of accident in the first place; and as we often see, even in the human species, the deformities and infirmities of our ancestors entailed upon their progeny, so has this ‘cut in the nose’ been so extensively inherited by succeeding generations, that it has now become a distinctive mark of a whole class of dogs.
The French Pointer, as known in this country, is a beautiful, well-shaped, compact, square-nosed dog; not so long or high as the English, but extremely well built, full-chested, large head, pendent ears, projecting eyes, large feet, and thickish tail. His colour, seldom white, but generally intermingled with small spots of brown or chocolate over the body, and more particularly over the head and ears. Such a dog is in the possession of the writer, who knows nothing of his ancestry; but is convinced from those he saw in France, that they must have been imported from that country.
The English Pointer will now claim more particularly our attention. It is quite useless to go into a general description of an animal of whom we have already said much, and with whom we are all familiar; but we will endeavour to mention the most striking points of the species, which marks can be referred to as guides in the purchase of a dog.
It is a difficult matter to put on paper, in a manner satisfactory either to the reader or writer, the peculiarities of any animal, whereby he may be judged pure or mixed. However, there are, generally, some few points in each species, that can be selected as proofs of their genuineness and ability to perform certain actions peculiar to the race.
But, after all, more reliance must be placed upon the good faith of the seller, or the previous knowledge of the strain from which the purchaser selects–and what is better than either, from actual observation in the field; all of which precautions may, nevertheless, prove abortive, and our dog be worthless.
As regards the size of the English Pointer, we may say, that he averages in length about 3 feet from the tip of the muzzle to the base of the tail, and from 22 to 26 inches high. His head not bulky nor too narrow, the frontal sinuses largely developed.
The muzzle long and rather tapering, the nostrils large and well open, the ear slightly erect, not over long, and the tip triangular; if too pendent, large and rounded at the tip, there is too much of the hound present. The eyes lively, but not too prominent; the neck rather long and not over thick, the chest broad, the limbs large and muscular; the paws strong, hard and wide. The body and loins thin, rather than bulky, the hind quarters broad, and the limbs in the same proportion with the fore members; the tail long and tapering.–L.]
THE RUSSIAN POINTER
is a rough, ill-tempered animal, with too much tendency to stupidity, and often annoyed by vermin. He runs awkwardly, with his nose near the ground, and frequently springs his game. He also has the cloven or divided nose.
THE EARLY TRAINING OF THE DOG.
The education of these dogs should commence at an early period, whether conducted by the breeder or the sportsman; and the first lesson–that on which the value of the animal, and the pleasure of its owner, will much depend–is a habit of subjection on the part of the dog, and kindness on the part of the master. This is a ‘sine qua non’. The dog must recognise in his owner a friend and a benefactor. This will soon establish in the mind of the quadruped a feeling of gratitude, and a desire to please. All this is natural to the dog, if he is encouraged by the master, and then the process of breaking-in may commence in good earnest.
No long time probably passes ere the dog commits some little fault. He is careless, or obstinate, or cross. The owner puts on a serious countenance, he holds up his finger, or shakes his head, or produces the whip, and threatens to use it. Perhaps the infliction of a blow, that breaks no bones, occasionally follows. In the majority of cases nothing more is required. The dog succumbs; he asks to be forgiven; or, if he has been self-willed, he may be speedily corrected without any serious punishment.
A writer, under the signature of “Soho,” in The New Sporting Magazine for 1833, gives an interesting account of the schooling of the pointer or setter, thus commenced. A short abstract from it may not be unacceptable:
“The first lesson inculcated is that of passive obedience, and this enforced by the infliction of severity as little as the case will admit. We will suppose the dog to be a setter. He is taken into the garden or into a field, and a strong cord, about eighteen or twenty yards long, is tied to his collar. The sportsman calls the dog to him, looks earnestly at him, gently presses him to the ground, and several times, with a loud, but not an angry voice, says, ‘Down!’ or ‘Down charge!’ The dog knows not the meaning of this, and struggles to get up; but, as often as he struggles, the cry of ‘Down charge!’ is repeated, and the pressure is continued or increased.
“This is repeated a longer or shorter time, until the dog, finding that no harm is meant, quietly submits. He is then permitted to rise; he is patted and caressed, and some food is given to him. The command to rise is also introduced by the terms ‘Hie up!’ A little afterwards the same process is repeated, and he struggles less, or perhaps ceases altogether to struggle.
“The person whose circumstances permit him occasionally to shoot over his little demesne, may very readily educate his dog without having recourse to keepers or professional breakers, among whom he would often be subject to imposition. Generally speaking, no dog is half so well broken as the one whose owner has taken the trouble of training him. The first and grand thing is to obtain the attachment of the dog, by frequently feeding and caressing him, and giving him little hours of liberty under his own inspection; but, every now and then, inculcating a lesson of obedience, teaching him that every gambol must be under the control of his master; frequently checking him in the midst of his riot with the order of ‘Down charge!’ patting him when he is instantly obedient; and rating, or castigating him, but not too severely, when there is any reluctance to obey. ‘Passive obedience is the first principle, and from which no deviation should be allowed.’ [26]
“Much kindness and gentleness are certainly requisite when breaking-in the puppy, whether it be a pointer or a setter. There is heedlessness in the young dog which is not readily got rid of until age has given him experience. He must not, however, be too severely corrected, or he may be spoiled for life. If considerable correction is sometimes necessary, it should be followed, at a little distance of time, by some kind usage. The memory of the suffering will remain; but the feeling of attachment to the master will also remain, or rather be increased. The temper of a young dog must be almost as carefully studied as that of a human being. Timidity may be encouraged, and eagerness may be restrained, but affection must be the tie that binds him to his master, and renders him subservient to his will.
“The next portion of the lesson is more difficult to learn. He is no longer held by his master, but suffered to run over the field, seemingly at his pleasure, when, suddenly, comes the warning ‘Down!’ He perhaps pays no attention to it, but gambols along until seized by his master, forced on the ground, and the order of ‘Down!’ somewhat sternly uttered.
“After a while he is suffered again to get up. He soon forgets what has occurred, and gallops away with as much glee as ever. Again the ‘Down!’ is heard, and again little or no attention is paid to it. His master once more lays hold of him and forces him on the ground, and perhaps inflicts a slight blow or two, and this process continues until the dog finds that he must obey the command of ‘Down charge!’
“The owner will now probably walk from him a little way backward with his hand lifted up. If the dog makes the slightest motion, he must be sharply spoken to, and the order peremptorily enforced.
“He must then be taught to ‘back,’ that is, to come behind his master when called. When he seems to understand all this, he is called by his master in a kindly tone, and patted and caressed. It is almost incredible how soon he will afterwards understand what he is ordered to do, and perform it.
“It will be seen by this that no one should attempt to break-in a dog who is not possessed of patience and perseverance. The sportsman must not expect to see a great deal of improvement from the early lessons. The dog will often forget that which was inculcated upon him a few hours before; but perseverance and kindness will effect much: the first lessons over, the dog, beginning to perceive a little what is meant, will cheerfully and joyfully do his duty.
“When there is much difficulty in teaching the dog his lesson, the fault lies as often with the master as with him; or they are, generally speaking, both in fault. Some dogs cannot be mastered but by means of frequent correction. The less the sportsman has to do with them the better. Others will not endure the least correction, but become either ferocious or sulky. They should be disposed of as soon as possible. The majority of dogs are exceedingly sagacious. They possess strong reasoning powers; they understand, by intuition, almost every want and wish of their master, and they deserve the kindest and best usage.
“The scholar being thus prepared, should be taken into the field, either alone, or, what is considerably better, with a well-trained, steady dog. When the old dog makes a point, the master calls out, ‘Down!’ or ‘Soho!’ and holds up his hand, and approaches steadily to the birds; and, if the young one runs in or prepares to do so, as probably he will at first, he again raises his hand and calls out, ‘Soho!’ If the youngster pays no attention to this, the whip must be used, and in a short time he will be steady enough at the first intimation of game.
“If he springs any birds without taking notice of them, he should be dragged to the spot from which they rose, and, ‘Soho!’ being cried, one or two sharp strokes with the whip should be inflicted. If he is too eager, he should be warned to ‘take heed.’ If he ‘rakes’ or runs with his nose near the ground, he should be admonished to ‘hold up’, and, if he still persists, the ‘muzzle-peg’ may be resorted to. Some persons fire over the dog for running at hares: but this is wrong; for, besides the danger of wounding or even killing the animal, he will for some time afterwards he frightened at the sound, or even at the very sight of a gun. The best plan to accustom dogs to the gun, is occasionally to fire one off when they are being fed.
“Some persons let their dog fetch the dead birds. This is very wrong. Except the sportsman has a double-barrelled gun, the dog should not be suffered to move until the piece is again charged. The young one, until he is thoroughly broken of it, is too apt to run in whether the bird is killed or not, and which may create much mischief by disturbing the game.
“Although excessive punishment should not be administered, yet no fault, however small, should pass without reproof: on the other hand, he should be rewarded, but not too lavishly, for every instance of good conduct.
“When the dog is grown tolerably steady, and taught to come at the call, he should also learn to range and quarter his ground. Let some clear morning, and some place where the sportsman is likely to meet with game, be selected. Station him where the wind will blow in his face; wave your hand and cry, ‘Heigh on, good dog!’ Then let him go off to the right, about seventy or eighty yards. After this, call him in by another wave of the hand, and let him go the same distance to the left. Walk straight forward with your eye always upon him; then, let him continue to cross from right to left, calling him in at the limit of each range.
“This is at first a somewhat difficult lesson, and requires careful teaching. The same ground is never to be twice passed over. The sportsman watches every motion, and the dog is never trusted out of sight, or allowed to break fence. When this lesson is tolerably learned, and on some good scenting morning early in the season, he may take the field, and perhaps find. Probably he will be too eager, and spring his game. Make him ‘down’ immediately, and take him to the place where the birds rose. Chide him with ‘Steady!’ ‘How dare you!’ Use no whip; but scold him well, and be assured that he will be more cautious. If possible, kill on the next chance. The moment the bird is down, he will probably rush in and seize it. He must be met with the same rebuff, ‘Down charge!’ If he does not obey, he deserves to have, and will have, a stroke with the whip. The gun being again charged, the bird is sought for, and the dog is suffered to see it and play with it for a minute before it is put into the bag.
“He will now become thoroughly fond of the sport, and his fondness will increase with each bird that is killed. At every time, however, whether he kills or misses, the sportsman should make the dog ‘Down charge.’ and never allow him to rise until he has loaded.
“If a hare should be wounded, there will, occasionally, be considerable difficulty in preventing him from chasing her. The best broken and steadiest dog cannot always be restrained from running hares. He must be checked with ‘Ware chase,’ and, if he does not attend, the sportsman must wait patiently. He will by-and-by come slinking along with his tail between his legs, conscious of his fault. It is one, however, that admits of no pardon. He must be secured, and, while the field echoes with the cry of ‘Ware chase,’ he must be punished to a certain but not too great extent. The castigation must be repeated as often as he offends; or, if there is much difficulty in breaking him of the habit, he must be got rid of.”
The breaking-in or subjugation of pointers and setters is a very important, and occasionally a difficult affair; the pleasure of the sportsman, however, depends on it. The owner of any considerable property will naturally look to his keeper to furnish him with dogs on which he may depend, and he ought not to be disappointed; for those which belong to other persons, or are brought at the beginning of the season, whatever account the breaker or the keeper of them may give, will too often be found deficient.
THE OTTER HOUND
used to be of a mingled breed, between the southern hound and the rough terrier, and in size between the harrier and the fox-hound. The head should be large and broad, the shoulders and quarters thick, and the hair strong, wiry, and rough. They used to be kept in small packs, for the express purpose of hunting the otter.
Two hundred and fifty years ago, otter-hunting was a favourite amusement in several parts of Great Britain. Many of our streams then abounded with this destructive animal; but, since the population are more numerous, and many contrivances are adopted to ensnare and destroy otters, few are now to be found.
THE TURNSPIT
This dog was once a valuable auxiliary in the kitchen, by turning the spit before jacks were invented. It had a peculiar length of body, with short crooked legs, the tail curled, its ears long and pendent, and the head large in proportion to the body. It is still used in the kitchen on various parts of the Continent. There are some curious stories of the artfulness with which he often attempted to avoid the task imposed upon him.
There is a variety of this dog; the crooked-legged turnspit.
[Footnote 1: ‘Historical and Descriptive Sketches of British America’, by J. Macgregor]
[Footnote 2: ‘Journal Historique du Voyage de M. de Lesseps’, Paris, 1790. 2 vols.–tome 1.]
[Footnote 3: Clarke’s ‘Scandinavia’, vol. i. p. 432.]
[Footnote 4: The migratory sheep, in some parts of the south of France almost as numerous as in Spain, are attended by a GOAT, as a guide; and the intelligence and apparent pride which he displays are remarkable.]
[Footnote 5: ‘Trimmer on the Merinos’, p. 50. See also the Society’s work on Sheep.]
[Footnote 6: ‘Annals of Sporting’, vol. viii. p. 83.]
[Footnote 7:
“The Ettrick Shepherd has probably spoken somewhat too enthusiastically of his dog; but accounts of the sagacity and almost superhuman fidelity of this dog crowd so rapidly upon us that we are compelled to admire and to love him.”
‘Hogg’s Shepherd’s Calendar’, vol. ii. p. 308.]
[Footnote 8: ‘Jesse’s Gleanings’, vol. i. p. 93].
[Footnote 9: ‘Buffon’s Natural History’, vol. v. p. 314.]
[Footnote 10: ‘Travels in Scotland’, by the Rev. J. Hall, vol. ii. p. 395.]
[Footnote 11: ‘Annals of Sporting’, vol. v. p. 137.]
[Footnote 12: Mr Beckford at one time determined to try how he should like the use of beagles, and, having heard of a small pack of them, he sent his coachman, the person he could best spare, to fetch them. It was a long journey, and, although he had some assistance, yet not being used to hounds, he had some trouble in getting them along, especially as they had not been out of the kennel for several weeks before. They were consequently so riotous that they ran after everything they saw, sheep, cur dogs, birds of all sorts, as well as hares and deer. However, he lost but one hound; and, when Mr. Beckford asked him what he thought of them, he said that they could not fail of being good hounds, for they would hunt everything.]
[Footnote 13: ‘Beckford on Hunting’, p. 150.]
[Footnote 14: ‘The Horse and the Hound’, by Nimrod, p. 340.]
[Footnote 15: ‘The Horse and the Hound’, by Nimrod, p, 332.]
[Footnote 16: ‘Daniel’s Foxhound’, p. 205.]
[Footnote 17: ‘The Horse and the Hound’, by Nimrod, p. 355.]
[Footnote 18: ‘Beckford’s Thoughts on Hunting’, p. 95.]
[Footnote 19: Mr. Beckford gives the following excellent account of what a huntsman should be:
“A huntsman should be attached to the sport, and indefatigable, young, strong, active, bold, and enterprising in the pursuit of it. He should be sensible, good-tempered, sober, exact, and cleanly–a good groom and an excellent horseman. His voice should be strong and clear, with an eye so quick as to perceive which of his hounds carries the scent when all are running, and an ear so excellent as to distinguish the leading hounds when he does not see them. He should be quiet, patient, and without conceit. Such are the qualities which constitute perfection in a huntsman. He should not, however, be too fond of displaying them until called forth by necessity; it being a peculiar and distinguishing trait in his character to let his hounds alone while they thus hunt, and have genius to assist them when they cannot.”
‘Beckford on Hunting’, Letter ix.]
[Footnote 20: ‘Blaine on the Diseases of the Dog’, p. 140.]
[Footnote 21: See ‘Hints to Young Masters of Fox-Hounds’–‘New Sport. Mag.’, vol. viii. p. 174-290.]
[Footnote 22: ‘Traite de la Folie dex Animaux’, tom. ii. 39.]
[Footnote 23: Mr. D. Radcliffe.]
[Footnote 24: The late Lord Oxford reduced four stags to so perfect a degree of submission that, in his short excursions, he used to drive them in a phaeton made for the purpose. He was one day exercising his singular and beautiful steeds in the neighbourhood of Newmarket, when their ears were saluted with the unwelcome cry of a pack of hounds, which, crossing the road in their rear, had caught the scent, and leaving their original object of pursuit, were now in rapid chase of the frightened stags. In vain his grooms exerted themselves to the utmost, the terrified animals bounded away with the swiftness of lightning, and entered Newmarket at full speed. They made immediately for the Ram Inn, to which his lordship was in the habit of driving, and, having fortunately entered the yard without any accident, the stable-keepers huddled his lordship, the phaeton, and the deer into a large barn, just in time to save them from the hounds, who came into the yard in full cry a few seconds afterwards.
(‘Annals of Sporting’, vol. iii. 1833.)]
[Footnote 25: The author of the ‘Field Book’ says that he saw an extremely small pointer, whose length, from the tip of the nose to the point of the tail, was only two feet and half an inch, the length of the head being six inches, and round the chest one foot and three inches. He was an exquisite miniature of the English pointer, being in all respects similar to him, except in his size. His colour was white, with dark liver-coloured patches on each side of the head, extending half down the neck. The ears, with some patches on the back, were also of the same colour, and numerous small dark-brown spots appeared over his whole body and legs.
This beautiful little animal had an exquisite sense of smell. Some of the same breed, and being the property of the Earl of Lauderdale, were broken-in and made excellent pointers, although, from their minute size, it could not be expected that they would be able to do much work. When intent upon any object, the dog assumed the same attitude as other pointers, holding up one of his feet.
(‘The Field Book’, p. 399.)]
[Footnote 26: Another writer in the same volume gives also an interesting account of the management of the setter.]
* * * * *
CHAPTER IV.
THE VARIETIES OF THE DOG.
THIRD DIVISION.
‘The muzzle more or less shortened, the frontal sinus enlarged, and the cranium elevated and diminished in capacity.’
At the head of this inferior or brutal division of dogs stands
THE BULL-DOG.
The round, thick head, turned-up nose, and thick and pendulous lips of this dog are familiar to all, while his ferocity makes him in the highest degree dangerous. In general he makes a silent although ferocious attack, and the persisting powers of his teeth and jaws enable him to keep his hold against any but the greatest efforts, so that the utmost mischief is likely to ensue as well to the innocent visitor of his domicile as the ferocious intruder. The bull-dog is scarcely capable of any education, and is fitted for nothing but ferocity and combat.
The name of this dog is derived from his being too often employed, until a few years ago, in baiting the bull. It was practised by the low and dissolute in many parts of the country. Dogs were bred and trained for the purpose; and, while many of them were injured or destroyed, the head of the bull was lacerated in the most barbarous manner. Nothing can exceed the fury with which the bull-dog rushed on his foe, and the obstinacy with which he maintained his hold. He fastened upon the lip, the muzzle, or the eye, and there he hung in spite of every effort of the bull to free himself from his antagonist.
Bull-dogs are not so numerous as they were a few years ago; and every kind-hearted person will rejoice to hear that bull-baiting is now put down by legal authority in every part of the kingdom.
THE BULL TERRIER.
This dog is a cross between the bull-dog and the terrier, and is generally superior, both in appearance and value, to either of its progenitors. A second cross considerably lessens the underhanging of the lower jaw, and a third entirely removes it, retaining the spirit and determination of the animal. It forms a steadier friendship than either of them, and the principal objection to it is its love of wanton mischief, and the dangerous irascibility which it occasionally exhibits.
Sir Walter Scott, a warm friend of dogs, and whose veracity cannot be impeached, gives an interesting account of a favourite one belonging to him.
“The cleverest dog I ever had was what is called a bull-dog terrier. I taught him to understand a great many words, insomuch that I am positive the communication between the canine species and ourselves might be greatly enlarged. Camp, the name of my dog, once bit the baker when bringing bread to the family. I beat him, and explained the enormity of the offence; after which, to the last moment of his life, he never heard the least allusion to the story without creeping into the darkest corner of the room. Towards the end of his life when he was unable to attend me while I was on horseback, he generally watched for my return, and, when the servant used to tell him, his master was coming down the hill, or through the moor, although he did not use any gesture to explain his meaning, Camp was never known to mistake him, but either went out at the front to go up the hill, or at the back to get down to the moor-side.”
THE MASTIFF
The head considerably resembles that of the bull-dog, but with the ears dependent. The upper lip falls over the lower jaw. The end of the tail is turned up, and frequently the fifth toe of the hind feet is more or less developed. The nostrils are separated one from another by a deep furrow. He has a grave and somewhat sullen countenance, and his deep-toned bark is often heard during the night. The mastiff is taller than the bull-dog, but not so deep in the chest, and his head is large compared with his general form.
It is probable that the mastiff is an original breed peculiar to the British islands.
He seems to be fully aware of the impression which his large size makes on every stranger; and, in the night especially, he watches the abode of his master with the completest vigilance; in fact, nothing would tempt him to betray the confidence which is reposed in him.
Captain Brown states that,
“notwithstanding his commanding appearance and the strictness with which he guards the property of his master, he is possessed of the greatest mildness of conduct, and is as grateful for any favours bestowed upon him as is the most diminutive of the canine tribe. There is a remarkable and peculiar warmth in his attachments. He is aware of all the duties required of him, and he punctually discharges them. In the course of the night he several times examines every thing with which he is intrusted with the most scrupulous care, and, by repeated barkings, warns the household or the depredator that he is at the post of duty.” [1]
The mastiff from Cuba requires some mention, and will call up some of the most painful recollections in the history of the human race. He was not a native of Cuba, but imported into the country.
The Spaniards had possessed themselves of several of the South American islands. They found them peopled with Indians, and those of a sensual, brutish, and barbarous class–continually making war with their neighbours, indulging in an irreconcilable hatred of the Spaniards, and determined to expel and destroy them. In self-defence, they were driven to some means of averting the destruction with which they were threatened. They procured some of these mastiffs, by whose assistance they penetrated into every part of the country, and destroyed the greater portion of the former inhabitants.
Las Casas, a Catholic priest, and whose life was employed in endeavouring to mitigate the sufferings of the original inhabitants, says that
“it was resolved to march against the Indians, who had fled to the mountains, and they were chased like wild beasts, with the assistance of bloodhounds, who had been trained to a thirst for human blood, so that before I had left the island it had become almost entirely a desert.”
THE ICELAND DOG.
The head is rounder than that of the northern dogs; the ears partly erect and partly pendent; and the fur soft and long, especially behind the fore legs and on the tail. It much resembles the Turkish dog removed to a colder climate.
This dog is exceedingly useful to the Icelanders while travelling over the snowy deserts of the north. By a kind of intuition he rarely fails in choosing the shortest and the safest course. He also is more aware than his master of the approach of the snow storms; and is a most valuable ally against the attack of the Polar bear, who, drifted on masses of ice from the neighbouring continent, often commits depredations among the cattle, and even attacks human beings. When the dog is first aware of the neighbourhood of the bear, he sets up a fearful howl, and men and dogs hasten to hunt down and destroy the depredator.
The travelling in Iceland is sometimes exceedingly dangerous at the beginning of the winter. A thin layer of snow covers and conceals some of the chasms with which that region abounds. Should the traveller fall into one of them, the dog proves a most useful animal; for he runs immediately across the snowy waste, and, by his howling, induces the traveller’s friends to hasten to his rescue.
THE TERRIER
The forehead is convex; the eye prominent; the muzzle pointed; the tail thin and arched; the fur short; the ears of moderate size, half erect, and usually of a deep-black colour, with a yellow spot over the eyes. It is an exceedingly useful animal; but not so indispensable an accompaniment to a pack of fox-hounds as it used to be accounted. Foxes are not so often unearthed as they formerly were, yet many a day’s sport would be lost without the terrier. Some sportsmen used to have two terriers accompanying in the pack, one being smaller than the other. This was a very proper provision; a large terrier might be incapable of penetrating into the earth, and a small one might permit the escape of the prey. Many terriers have lost their lives by scratching up the earth behind them, and thus depriving themselves of all means of retreat.
The coat of the terrier may be either smooth or rough; the smooth-haired ones are more delicate in appearance, and are somewhat more exposed to injury or accident; but in courage, sagacity, and strength, there is very little difference if the dogs are equally well bred. The rough terrier possibly obtained his shaggy coat from the cur, and the smooth terrier may derive his from the hound.
The terrier is seldom of much service until he is twelve months old; and then, incited by natural propensity, or the example of the older ones, or urged on by the huntsman, he begins to discharge his supposed duty.
An old terrier is brought to the mouth of the earth in which a vixen fox–a fox with her young ones–has taken up her abode, and is sent in to worry and drive her out. Some young terriers are brought to the mouth of the hover, to listen to the process that is going forward within, and to be excited to the utmost extent of which they are capable. The vixen is at length driven out, and caught at the mouth of the hole; and the young ones are suffered to rush in, and worry or destroy their first prey. They want no after-tuition to prepare them for the discharge of their duty.
This may be pardoned. It is the most ready way of training the young dog to his future business; but it is hoped that no reader of this work will be guilty of the atrocities that are often practised. An old fox, or badger, is caught, his under jaw is sawn off, and the lower teeth are forcibly extracted, or broken. A hole is then dug in the earth, or a barrel is placed large and deep enough to permit a terrier, or perhaps two of them, to enter. Into this cavity the fox or badger is thrust, and a terrier rushes after him, and drags him out again. The question to be ascertained is, how many times in a given period the dog will draw this poor tortured animal out of the barrel–an exhibition of cruelly which no one should be able to lay to the charge of any human being. It is a principle not to be departed from, that wanton and useless barbarity should never be permitted. The government, to a certain extent, has interfered, and a noble society has been established to limit, or, if possible, to prevent the infliction of useless pain.
The terrier is, however, a valuable dog, in the house and the farm. The stoat, the pole-cat, and the weazel, commit great depredations in the fields, the barn, and granary; and to a certain extent, the terrier is employed in chasing them; but it is not often that he has a fair chance to attack them. He is more frequently used in combating the rat.
The mischief effected by rats is almost incredible. It has been said that, in some cases, in the article of corn, these animals consume a quantity of food equal in value to the rent of the farm. Here the dog is usefully employed, and in his very element, especially if there is a cross of the bull-dog about him.
There are some extraordinary accounts of the dexterity, as well as courage, of the terrier in destroying rats. The feats of a dog called “Billy” will he long remembered. He was matched to destroy one hundred large rats in eight and a half minutes. The rats were brought into the ring in bags, and, as soon as the number was complete, he was put over the railing. In six minutes and thirty-five seconds they were all destroyed. In another match he destroyed the same number in six minutes and thirteen seconds. At length, when he was getting old, and had but two teeth and one eye left, a wager was laid of thirty sovereigns, by the owner of a Berkshire bitch, that she would kill fifty rats in less time than Billy. The old dog killed his fifty in five minutes and six seconds. The pit was then cleared, and the bitch let in. When she had killed thirty rats, she was completely exhausted, fell into a fit, and lay barking and yelping, utterly incapable of completing her task.
The speed of the terrier is very great. One has been known to run six miles in thirty-two minutes. He needs to be a fleet dog if, with his comparatively little bulk, he can keep up with the foxhound.
A small breed of ‘wry-legged’ terriers was once in repute, and, to a certain degree, is retained for the purpose of hunting rabbits. It probably originated in some rickety specimens, remarkable for the slow development of their frame, except in the head, the belly, and the joints, which enlarge at the expense of the other parts.
THE SCOTCH TERRIER
There is reason to believe that this dog is far older than the English terrier. There are three varieties: first the common Scotch terrier, twelve or thirteen inches high; his body muscular and compact– considerable breadth across the loins–the legs shorter and stouter than those of the English terriers. The head large in proportion to the size of the body–the muzzle small and pointed–strong marks of intelligence in the countenance–warm attachment to his master, and the evident devotion of every power to the fulfilment of his wishes. The hair is long and tough, and extending over the whole of the frame. In colour, they are black or fawn: the white, yellow, or pied are always deficient in purity of blood.
Another species has nearly the same conformation, but is covered with longer, more curly, and stouter hair; the legs being apparently, but not actually, shorter. This kind of dog prevails in the greater part of the Western Islands of Scotland, and some of them, where the hair has obtained its full development, are much admired.
Her Majesty had one from Islay, a faithful and affectionate creature, yet with all the spirit and determination that belongs to his breed. The writer of this account had occasion to operate on this poor fellow, who had been bitten under somewhat suspicious circumstances. He submitted without a cry or a struggle, and seemed to be perfectly aware that we should not put him to pain without having some good purpose in view.
A third species of terrier is of a considerably larger bulk, and three or four inches taller than either of the others. Its hair is shorter than that of the other breeds, and is hard and wiry.
THE SHOCK-DOG
is traced by Buffon, but somewhat erroneously, to a mixture of the small Danish dog and the pug. The head is round, the eyes large, but somewhat concealed by its long and curly hair, the tail curved and bent forward. The muzzle resembles that of the pug. It is of small size, and is used in this country and on the Continent as a lap-dog. It is very properly described by the author of “The Field Book” as a useless little animal, seeming to possess no other quality than that of a faithful attachment to his mistress.
THE ARTOIS DOG
with his short, flat muzzle, is a produce of the shock-dog and the pug. He has nothing peculiar to recommend him.
THE ANDALUSIAN, OR ALICANT DOG,
has the short muzzle of the pug with the long hair of the spaniel.
THE EGYPTIAN AND BARBARY DOG,
according to Cuvier, has a very thick and round head, the ears erect at the base, large and movable, and carried horizontally, the skin nearly naked, and black or dark flesh-colour, with large patches of brown. A sub-variety has a kind of mane behind the head, formed of long stiff hairs.
Buffon imagines that the shepherd’s dog–transported to different climates, and acquiring different habits–was the ancestor of the various species with which almost every country abounds; but whence they originally came it is impossible to say. They vary in their size, their colour, their attitude, their usual exterior, and their strangely different interior construction. Transported into various climates, they are necessarily submitted to the influence of heat and cold, and of food more or less abundant and more or less suitable to their natural organization; but the reason or the derivation of these differences of structure it is not always easy to explain.
[Footnote 1: Brown’s ‘Biographical Sketches’, p. 425.]
* * * * *
CHAPTER V.
THE GOOD QUALITIES OF THE DOG; THE SENSE OF SMELL; INTELLIGENCE; MORAL QUALITIES; DOG-CARTS; CROPPING; TAILING; BREAKING-IN; DOG-PITS; DOG-STEALING.
In our history of the different breeds of the dog we have seen enough to induce us to admire and love him. His courage, his fidelity, and the degree in which he often devotes every power that he possesses to our service, are circumstances that we can never forget nor overlook. His very foibles occasionally attach him to us. We may select a pointer for the pureness of his blood and the perfection of his education. He transgresses in the field. We call him to us; we scold him well; perchance, we chastise him. He lies motionless and dumb at our feet. The punishment being over, he gets up, and, by some significant gesture, acknowledges his consciousness of deserving what he has suffered. The writer operated on a pointer bitch for an enlarged cancerous tumour, accompanied by much inflammation and pain in the surrounding parts. A word or two of kindness and of caution were all that were necessary, although, in order to prevent accidents, she had been bound securely. The flesh quivered as the knife pursued its course–a moan or two escaped her, but yet she did not struggle; and her first act, after all was over, was to lick the operator’s hand.
From the combination of various causes, the history of no animal is more interesting than that of the dog. First, his intimate association with man, not only as a valuable protector, but as a constant and faithful companion throughout all the vicissitudes of life. Secondly, from his natural endowments, not consisting in the exquisite delicacy of one individual sense–not merely combining memory with reflection–but possessing qualities of the mind that stagger us in the contemplation of them, and which we can alone account for in the gradation existing in that wonderful system which, by different links of one vast chain, extends from the first to the last of all things, until it forms a perfect whole on the wonderful confines of the spiritual and material world.
We here quote the beautiful account of Sir Walter Scott and his dogs, as described by Henry Hallam:
“But looking towards the grassy mound Where calm the Douglass chieftains lie, Who, living, quiet never found,
I straightway learnt a lesson high;
For there an old man sat serene,
And well I knew that thoughtful mien Of him whose early lyre had thrown
O’er mouldering walls the magic of its tone.
It was a comfort, too, to see
Those dogs that from him ne’er would rove, And always eyed him reverently,
With glances of depending love.
They know not of the eminence
Which marks him to my reasoning sense, They know but that he is a man,
And still to them is kind, and glads them all he can
And hence their quiet looks confiding; Hence grateful instincts seated deep
By whose strong bond, were ill betiding, They’d lose their own, his life to keep. What joy to watch in lower creature
Such dawning of a moral nature,
And how (the rule all things obey) They look to a higher mind to be their law and stay!”
The subject of the intellectual and moral qualities of the inferior animals is one highly interesting and somewhat misunderstood–urged perhaps to a ridiculous extent by some persons, yet altogether neglected by others who have no feeling for any but themselves.
Anatomists have compared the relative bulk of the brain in different animals, and the result is not a little interesting. In man the weight of the brain amounts on the average to 1-30th part of the body. In the Newfoundland dog it does not amount to 1-60th part, or to 1-100th part in the poodle and barbet, and not to more than 1-300th part in the ferocious and stupid bull-dog.
When the brain is cut, it is found to be composed of two substances, essentially different in construction and function–the cortical and the medullary. The first is small in quantity, and principally concerned in the food and reproduction of the animal, and the cineritious in a great measure the register of the mind. Brute strength seems to be the character of the former, and superior intelligence of the latter. There is, comparing bulk with bulk, less of the medullary substance in the horse than in the ox–and in the dog than in the horse–and they are characterized as the sluggish ox, the intelligent horse, and the intellectual and companionable dog.
From the medullary substance proceed certain cords or prolongations, termed ‘nerves’, by which the animal is enabled to receive impressions from surrounding objects and to connect himself with them, and also to possess many pleasurable or painful sensations. One of them is spread over the membrane of the nose, and gives the sense of smell; another expands on the back of the eye, and the faculty of sight is gained; a third goes to the internal structure of the ear and the animal is conscious of sound. Other nerves, proceeding to different parts, give the faculty of motion, while an equally important one bestows the power of feeling. One division, springing from a prolongation of the brain, and yet within the skull, wanders to different parts of the frame, for important purposes connected with respiration or breathing. The act of breathing is essential to life, and were it to cease, the animal would die.
There are other nerves–the sympathetic–so called from their union and sympathy with all the others, and identified with life itself. They proceed from a small ganglion or enlargement in the upper part of the neck, or from a collection of minute ganglia within the abdomen. They go to the heart, and it beats; and to the stomach, and it digests. They form a net-work round each vessel, and the frame is nourished and built up. They are destitute of sensation, and they are perfectly beyond the control of the will.
We have been accustomed, and properly, to regard the nervous system, or that portion of it which is connected with animal life–that which renders us conscious of surrounding objects and susceptible of pleasure and of pain–as the source of intellectual power and moral feeling. It is so with ourselves. All our knowledge is derived from our perception of things around as. A certain impression is made on the outward fibres of a sensitive nerve. That impression, in some mysterious way, is conveyed to the brain; and there it is received–registered–stored–and compared; there its connections are traced and its consequences appreciated; and thence a variety of interesting impressions are conveyed, and due use is made of them.
THE SENSE OF SMELL
Our subject–the intellectual and moral feelings of brutes, and the mechanism on which they depend–may be divided into two parts, the portion that receives and conveys, and that which stores up and compares and uses the impression.
The portion that receives and conveys is far more developed in the brute than in the human being. Whatever sense we take, we clearly perceive the triumph of animal power.
The olfactory nerve in the horse, the dog, the ox, and the swine, is the largest of all the cerebral nerves, and has much greater comparative bulk in the quadruped than in the human being. The sense of smell, bearing proportion to the nerve on which it depends, is yet more acute. In man it is connected with pleasure–in the inferior animals with life. The relative size of the nerve bears an invariable proportion to the necessity of an acute sense of smell in the various animals–large in the horse compared with the olfactory nerve in the human being–larger in the ox, who is often sent into the fields to shift for himself–larger still in the swine, whose food is buried under the soil, or deeply immersed in the filth or refuse,–and still larger in the dog, the acuteness of whose scent is so connected with our pleasure.
[The disposition to hunt by scent is not peculiar to the setter or pointer, but in fact is common to all animals; developing itself in different proportions according to their various physical constructions and modes of life. The method of finding and pointing at game, now peculiar to these dogs, and engendered in their progeny through successive generations, is not the result of any special instinct, that usually governs the actions of the brute creation–but rather the effect of individual education and force of habit upon their several ancestors. This habit of life, engrafted through progressive generations into these breeds, has become a second nature, and so entirely the property of the species, that all its members, with but little care on the part of man, will perform these same actions in the same way, and will ever continue to exhibit these propensities for hunting, provided opportunities be offered for indulging them. Nevertheless, as these peculiar predilections for “‘setting or pointing’,” as before said, are the effect of education and habit, the artificial impulse would very soon be entirely obliterated, if not encouraged in the young dogs of each generation. This circumstance alone, proves to us the importance of getting dogs from a well-known good strain, whose ancestors have been remarkable for their exploits in the field. This necessary precaution will insure a favourable issue to our troubles, and lessen materially our labours. In fact young puppies have been frequently known to exhibit this propensity the first time they have been taken to the field. Some of these dogs have come under the notice of the writer, who at a few months old exhibited all the peculiarities of their race; in fact were “self-broke.” These dogs were the progeny of a well-known imported stock, in the possession of a gentleman who selected them in England.
Although other dogs, and other animals even, have been with great difficulty and perseverance taught to find and point game, still these two breeds seem especially adapted by nature, both in their physical and intellectual construction, for the performance of this particular duty to man.
The sense of smell is differently developed in different animals; the olfactory nerve of the dog is larger than any other in the cerebrum, which peculiarity will at once account for their wonderful powers of scent.
‘Swine’, also, have these nerves largely developed; and necessarily so, as both in a state of nature or half-civilization, the greater portion of their food is buried under the earth or mingled with the filth and mire of their sties, and would pass unheeded, if not for the acuteness of their nasal organs.
In Daniels’ “Rural Sports,” will be found an interesting account of a sow having been taught to find and point game of various kinds, and often having been known to stand on partridges at a distance of forty yards, which is more than can reasonably be expected of every first-rate dog. She was not only broke to find and stand game, but hunted with the dogs, and backed successfully when on a point. This extraordinary animal evinced great aptness for learning, and afterwards great enthusiasm in the sport; showing symptoms of pleasure at the sight of a gun, or when called upon to accompany a party to the field. Her hunting was not confined to any particular game, but stood equally well on partridges, pheasants, snipes, rabbits, &c. (See Blaine, part vii, chap, iii, page 792.)
Most of animals instinctively employ the organ of scent to seek out food, or avert personal danger, in preference to that of sight; but some depend more upon the latter than the former, either from instinct or the force of education.
For instance, the greyhound, though equally gifted with the sense of smell, as that of sight, has been taught to depend upon the one organ to the entire exclusion of the other, which is quite the reverse of the setter and pointer; but the wonderful speed of these dogs renders it quite unnecessary that he should employ the olfactory nerves, as no animal, however swift, can hope to escape from him in a fair race, when once near enough to be seen; though there are some that may elude his grasp by a “‘ruse de guerre'” when too hardly pressed. (‘Extracted from our essay in No. 1, vol. xvi, of the “Spirit of the Times.'”)–L.]
INTELLIGENCE
We find little mention of insanity in the domesticated animals in any of our modern authors, whether treating on agriculture, horsemanship, or veterinary medicine, and yet there are some singular and very interesting cases of aberration of intellect. The inferior animals are, to a certain extent, endowed with the same faculties as ourselves. They are even susceptible of the same moral qualities. Hatred, love, fear, hope, joy, distress, courage, timidity, jealousy, and many varied passions influence and agitate them, as they do the human being. The dog is an illustration of this—the most susceptible to every impression–approaching the nearest to man in his instincts, and in many actions that surprise the philosopher, who justly appreciates it.
What eagerness to bite is often displayed by the dog when labouring under enteritis, and especially by him who has imbibed the poison of rabies! How singular is the less dangerous malady which induces the horse and the dog to press unconsciously forward under the influence of vertigo!–the eagerness with which, when labouring under phrenitis, he strikes at everything with his foot, or rushes upon it to seize it with his teeth! A kind of nostalgia is often recognised in that depression which nothing can dissipate, and the invincible aversion to food, by means of which many animals perish, who are prevented from returning to the place where they once lived, and the localities to which they had been accustomed.
These are circumstances proving that the dog is endowed with intelligence and with affections like ours; and, if they do not equal ours, they are of the same character.
With regard to the foundation of intellectual power, viz.: attention, memory, association, and imagination, the difference between man and animals is in degree, and not in kind. Thus stands the account,–with the quadruped as well as the biped,–the impression is made on the mind; attention fixes it there; memory recurs to it; imagination combines it, rightly or erroneously, with many other impressions; judgment determines the value of it, and the conclusions that are to be drawn from it, if not with logical precision, yet with sufficient accuracy for every practical purpose.
A bitch, naturally ill-tempered, and that would not suffer a stranger to touch her, had scirrhous enlargement on one of her teats. As she lay in the lap of her mistress, an attempt was repeatedly made to examine the tumour, in spite of many desperate attempts on her part to bite. All at once, however, something seemed to strike her mind. She whined, wagged her tail, and sprung from the lap of her mistress to the ground. It was to crouch at the feet of the surgeon, and to lay herself down and expose the tumour to his inspection. She submitted to a somewhat painful examination of it, and to a far more serious operation afterwards. Some years passed away, and whenever she saw the operator, she testified her joy and her gratitude in the most expressive and endearing manner.
A short time since, the following scene took place in a street adjoining Hanover-square. It was an exhibition of a highly interesting character, and worthy to be placed upon record. The editor of the Lancet having heard that a French gentleman (M. Leonard), who had for some time been engaged in instructing two dogs in various performances that required the exercise, not merely of the natural instincts of the animal and the power of imitation, but of a higher intellect, and a degree of reflection and judgment far greater than is commonly developed in the dog; was residing in London, obtained an introduction, and was obligingly favoured by M. Leonard with permission to hold a ‘conversazione’ with his extraordinary pupils. He thus describes the interview:
Two fine dogs, of the Spanish breed, were introduced by M. Leonard, with the customary French politesse, the largest by the name of M. Philax, the other as M. Brac (or spot); the former had been in training three, the latter two, years. They were in vigorous health, and, having bowed very gracefully, seated themselves on the hearth-rug side by side. M. Leonard then gave a lively description of the means he had employed to develop the cerebral system in these animals–how, from having been fond of the chase, and ambitious of possessing the best-trained dogs, he had employed the usual course of training–how the conviction had been impressed on his mind, that by gentle usage, and steady perseverance in inducing the animal to repeat again and again what was required, not only would the dog be capable of performing that specific act, but that part of the brain which was brought into activity by the mental effort would become more largely developed, and hence a permanent increase of mental power be obtained.
This reasoning is in accordance with the known laws of the physiology of the nervous system, and is fraught with the most important results. We may refer the reader interested in the subject to the masterly little work of Dr. Verity, “Changes produced in the Nervous System by Civilization.”
After this introduction, M. Leonard spoke to his dogs in French, in his usual tone, and ordered one of them to walk, the other to lie down, to run, to gallop, halt, crouch, &c., which they performed as promptly and correctly as the most docile children. Then he directed them to go through the usual exercises of the ‘manege’, which they performed as well as the best-trained ponies at Astley’s.
He next placed six cards of different colours on the floor, and, sitting with his back to the dogs, directed one to pick up the blue card, and the other the white, &c., varying his orders rapidly, and speaking in such a manner that it was impossible the dogs could have executed his commands if they had not had a perfect knowledge of the words. For instance, M. Leonard said, “Philax, take the red card and give it to Brac; and, Brac, take the white card and give it to Philax;” the dags instantly did this, and exchanged cards with each other. He then said, “Philax, put your card on the green, and Brac, put yours on the blue;” and this was instantly performed. Pieces of bread and meat were placed on the floor, with figured cards, and a variety of directions were given to the dogs, so as to put their intelligence and obedience to a severe test. They brought the meat, bread, or cards, as commanded, but did not attempt to eat or to touch unless ordered. Philax was then ordered to bring a piece of meat and give it to Brac, and then Brac was told to give it back to Philax, who was to return it to its place. Philax was next told he might bring a piece of bread and eat it; but, before he had time to swallow it, his master forbade him, and directed him to show that he had not disobeyed, and the dog instantly protruded the crust between his lips.
While many of these feats were being performed, M. Leonard snapped a whip violently, to prove that the animals were so completely under discipline, that they would not heed any interruption.
After many other performances, M. Leonard invited a gentleman to play a game of dominos with one of them. The younger and slighter dog then seated himself on a chair at the table, and the writer and M. Leonard seated themselves opposite. Six dominos were placed on their edges in the usual manner before the dog, and a like number before the writer. The dog having a double number, took one up in his mouth, and put it in the middle of the table; the writer placed a corresponding piece on one side; the dog immediately played another correctly, and so on until all the pieces were engaged. Other six dominos were then given to each, and the writer intentionally placed a wrong number. The dog looked surprised, stared very earnestly at the writer, growled, and finally barked angrily. Finding that no notice was taken of his remonstrances, he pushed away the wrong domino with his nose, and took up a suitable one from his own pieces, and placed it in its stead. The writer then played correctly; the dog followed, and won the game. Not the slightest intimation could have been given by M. Leonard to the dog. This mode of play must have been entirely the result of his own observation and judgment. It should be added that the performances were strictly private. The owner of the dogs was a gentleman of independent fortune, and the instruction of his dogs had been taken up merely as a curious and amusing investigation. [1]
Another strange attainment of the dog is the learning to speak. The French Academicians mention one of these animals that could call in an intelligible manner for tea, coffee, chocolate, &c. The account is given by the celebrated Leibnitz, who communicated it to the Royal Academy of France. This dog was of a middling size, and was the property of a peasant in Saxony.
A little boy, a peasant’s son, imagined that he perceived in the dog’s voice an indistinct resemblance to certain words, and therefore took it into his head to teach him to speak. For this purpose he spared neither time nor pains with his pupil, who was about three years old when his learned education commenced, and in process of time he was able to articulate no fewer than thirty distinct words. He was, however, somewhat of a truant, and did not very willingly exert his talent, and was rather pressed than otherwise into the service of literature. It was necessary that the words should be pronounced to him each time, and then he repeated them after his preceptor. Leibnitz attests that he heard the animal talk in this way, and the French Academicians add, that unless they had received the testimony of so celebrated a person they would scarcely have dared to report the circumstance. It took place in Misnia, in Saxony.
THE MORAL QUALITIES OF THE DOG.
We pass on to another division of our subject, ‘the moral qualities of the dog’, strongly developed and beautifully displayed, and often putting the biped to shame.
It is truly said of the dog that he possesses
“Many a good
And useful quality, and virtue too, Attachment never to be weaned or changed By any change of fortune; proof alike
Against unkindness, absence, and neglect; Fidelity, that neither bribe nor threat Can move or warp; and gratitude, for small And trivial favours, lasting as the life, And glistening even in the dying eye.”
It may here be noticed that, among the inferior animals with large nerves and more medullary substance, there are acuter senses; but man, excelling them in the general bulk of his brain, and more particularly in the cortical portion of it, has far superior powers of mind. These are circumstances that deserve the deepest consideration. In their wild state the brutes have no concern–no idea beyond their food and their reproduction. In their domesticated state, they are doomed to be the servants of man. Their power of mind is sufficient to qualify them for this service: but were proportionate intellectual capacity added to this–were they made conscious of their strength, and of the objects that could be effected by it–they would burst their bonds, and man would in his turn be the victim and the slave.
There is an important faculty, termed ‘attention’. It is that which distinguishes the promising pupil from him of whom no good hope could be formed, and the scientific man from the superficial and ignorant one. The power of keeping the mind steadily bent upon one purpose, is the great secret of individual and moral improvement. We see the habit of attention carried in the dog to a very considerable extent. The terrier eagerly watching for vermin–the sporting dog standing staunch to his point, however he may be annoyed by the blunders of his companion or the unskilfulness of his master–the foxhound, insensible to a thousand scents, and deaf to every other sound, while he anxiously and perseveringly searches out the track of his prey–these are striking illustrations of the power of attention.
Then, the impression having been received, and the mind having been employed in its examination, it is treasured up in the storehouse of the mind for future use.
This is the faculty of memory; and a most important one it is. Of the ‘memory’ of the ‘dog’, and the recollection of kindness received, there are a thousand stories, from the return of Ulysses to the present day, and we have seen enough of that faithful animal to believe most of them. An officer was abroad with his regiment, during the American war. He had a fine Newfoundland dog, his constant companion, whom he left with his family. After the lapse of several years he returned. His dog met him at the door, leaped upon his neck, licked his face, and died.
Of the accuracy and retentiveness of memory in the dog, as respects the instruction he has received from his master, we have abundant proof in the pointer and the hound, and it may perhaps be with some of them, as with men, that the lesson must sometimes be repeated, and even impressed on the memory in a way not altogether pleasant.
[We know an imported Irish setter, formerly in possession of a gentleman of this city, who on many occasions, while hunting, displayed an extraordinary instinct, even sufficiently remarkable to make us believe that he possessed not only the most acute powers of observation, but that he also enjoyed the faculty of “inductive reasoning,” independent of any mechanical training, many of his performances being entirely voluntary, and the result of causes dependent upon accidental circumstances alone: for instance, when lost from observation, he would noiselessly withdraw from his point, hunt up his master, and induce him, by peculiar signs, to follow him to the spot where he had previously observed the birds.
In his old days, “Smoke” was much opposed to hunting with an indifferent shot, and would leave the field perfectly disgusted, after a succession of bad shooting; seeming to argue that he no longer sought after game for amusement, but that he expected his efforts to be repaid by the death of the birds.
This dog was of a morose and dignified disposition, surly with strangers, and inclined to quarrel with any one who carried a stick or whip in their hands; never forgetting an injury, and growling whenever any person who had offended him made their appearance. He was also particularly irritable and tenacious of his rights when hunting, shunning all puppies or heedless dogs, and exhibiting a very irascible disposition if superseded in a point by another dog; and on one occasion attacked a young pointer in the field, who, in opposition to all his growling and show of irony, would persist in crawling before him, when on a point.–L]
DOG-CARTS.
These were, and still are, in the country, connected with many an act of atrocious cruelty. We do not object to the dog as a beast of draught. He is so in the northern regions, and he is as happy as any other animal in those cold and inhospitable countries. He is so in Holland, and he is as comfortable there as any other beast that wears the collar. He is not so in Newfoundland: there he is shamefully treated. It is to the abuse of the thing, the poor and half-starved condition of the animal, the scandalous weight that he is made to draw, and the infamous usage to which he is exposed, that we object. We would put him precisely on the same footing with the horse, and then we should be able, perhaps, to afford him, not all the protection we could wish, but nearly as much as we have obtained for the horse. We would have every cart licensed, not for the sake of adding to the revenue, but of getting at the owner; and therefore the taxing need not be any great sum. We would have the cart licensed for the carrying of goods only; or a separate license taken out if it carried or drew a human being.
It is here that the cruelty principally exists. Before the dog-carts were put down in the metropolis, we then saw a man and a woman in one of these carts, drawn by a single dog, and going at full trot. Every passenger execrated them, and the trot was increased to a gallop, in order more speedily to escape the just reproaches that proceeded from every mouth. We would have the name and address of the owner, and the number of the cart, painted on some conspicuous part of the vehicle, and in letters and figures as large as on the common carts. Every passenger who witnessed any flagrant act of cruelty would then be enabled to take the number of the cart, and summon the owner; and the police should have the same power of interference which they have with regard to other vehicles.
After a plan like this had been working a little while, the nuisance would be materially abated; and, indeed, the consciousness of the ease with which the offender might be summoned, would go far to get rid of it.
CROPPING.
This is an infliction of too much torture for the gratification of a nonsensical fancy; and, after all, in the opinion of many, and of those, too, who are fondest of dogs, the animal looks far better in his natural state than when we have exercised all our cruel art upon him. Besides, the effects of this absurd amputation do not cease with the healing of the ear. The intense inflammation that we have set up, materially injures the internal structure of this organ. Deafness is occasionally produced by it in some dogs, and constantly in others. The frequent deafness of the pug is solely attributable to the outrageous as well as absurd rounding of his ears. The almost invariable deafness of the white wire-haired terrier is to be traced to this cause.
[Among the many tastes and fancies that the Americans have inherited from their ancestors, the English, may be enumerated the absurd practice of fashioning the ears of different breeds of dogs to a certain standard of beauty. Mr. Blain very justly remarks that it must be a false taste which has taught us to prefer a curtailed organ to a perfect one, without gaining any convenience by the operation. The dogs upon which this species of barbecuing are more particularly practised in this country, are the bull-dogs and terriers.
We imagine that many of our readers will be surprised when they learn that this operation, although so simple in itself, and performed by every reckless stable-boy, is attended with great suffering to the puppy, and not unfrequently with total deafness. Severe inflammation, extending to the interior of the ear, often follows this operation, more especially when awkwardly performed, as is frequently the case, by the aid of the miserable instruments within the reach of our hostlers; to say nothing of the savage fashion of using the teeth for this purpose, as is often done by ignorant fellows, who even take credit to themselves for the clever style in which they perform this outlandish operation. Mr. Blain states, that it is a barbarous custom to twist the ears off, by swinging the dog around; and we are satisfied that every sensible person will respond to this humane sentiment. We have never had the misfortune to see this latter method put into practice, and trust that such an operation is unknown among us, although, from the manner in which this gentleman condemns it, we are led to suppose that this mode is not uncommon in the old country.
As custom has sanctioned the cropping of dogs, in spite of all that can be said upon the subject, it should be done in such a manner as to cause the least possible pain to the animal. The fourth or fifth week is the proper age for this operation; if done sooner, the flap is apt to sprout and become deformed: if later, the cartilage has grown more thick and sensitive. The imaginary beauty of a terrier crop consists in the foxy appearance of the ears, which is easily produced by the clean cut of a sharp, strong pair of scissors. The first cut should commence at the posterior base of the ear, near to the head, and be carried to the extremity of the flap, taking off about the eighth of an inch or more in width. The second cut should extend from the base of the ear in front, somewhat obliquely, to intersect the other cut within a few lines of the point of the flap. These two cuts will shape the ear in such a style as to please the most fastidious eye, and will require no further trimming. The pieces taken from the first ear will answer as guides in cutting the other. The mother should not be allowed to lick the ears of the puppies, as is generally done, under the supposition that she assists in the healing process, when, in fact, she irritates them, and occasions increased inflammation. If the wounds are tardy at healing, or become mangy, they may be bathed gently with a weak solution of alum.
We regret to find that Mr. Skinner, so well known to the sporting world as the able extoller and defender of the rights of our canine friends, should recommend the cropping of terriers. We are convinced that he would change his feelings upon this subject, if he placed any confidence in the opinions of Blain, Youatt, Scott, or Daniel, all of whom condemn the practice as barbarous, and as often occasioning great suffering, and even total deafness, throughout the progeny of successive generations, as witnessed in the white wire-haired terrier and pug above mentioned.
Wo have had the good fortune to persuade some of our friends to desist from thus mutilating their terrier pups, all of whom, consequently, grew up with beautiful full ears and long tails, which were much admired; and to the eyes of many, the dogs seemed more sprightly and knowing with their long flaps, than when deprived of those natural appendages.–L.]
TAILING.
Then ‘the tail’ of the dog does not suit the fancy of the owner. It must be shortened in some of these animals, and taken off altogether in others. If the sharp, strong scissors, with a ligature, were used, the operation, although still indefensible, would not be a very cruel one, for the tail may be removed almost in a moment, and the wound soon heals; but for the beastly gnawing off of the part, and the drawing out of the tendons and nerves–these are the acts of a cannibal; and he who orders or perpetrates a barbarity so nearly approaching to cannibalism, deserves to be scouted from all society.
[As a matter of necessity, we cannot sanction the too frequent and cruel practice of cutting or otherwise barbecuing different portions of the bodies of our domestic animals, and more particularly the often absurd fancy or cropping and sterning dogs. Nevertheless, we must admit the propriety of, and, in fact, recommend, the taking off a small portion of the pointer’s tail, not to increase his beauty, but to save him some after suffering. A long tail is frequently lacerated in close thickets, and thus rendered sore and mangy: this is prevented by the operation, as it becomes better protected by the body, as also more thickly covered by the feather which generally forms over it.
When the pups are a month or six weeks old, this operation can be performed with little pain to the animal, by means of sharp scissors or a knife; but never allow any one to bite the tail off, as is often done by some dirty and unfeeling stable-men. Although a long tail is inconvenient, a too short one is more unsightly; care should therefore be taken not to remove too much. The quantity should be regulated by the size of the breed: for a medium breed, an inch is sufficient to be cut off at this age. Some sportsmen in England, Mr. Blain also informs us, draw out the lower tendons of the tail, which present themselves after amputation, with a pair of forceps, with a view of causing the tail to be carried higher, which adds to the style and appearance of the dog, when in the field. This practice, we agree with Mr. Youatt, is cannibal-like, and very painful; and, to say the least of it, of very doubtful propriety, as it is but seldom we find a good breed of dog carrying, while hunting, a slovenly tail.
If there should be any appearance of hemorrhage after this operation, a small piece of tape or twine may be tied around the tail, which will immediately arrest the bleeding. This ligature should not remain on longer than a few hours, as the parts included in it will be apt to slough and make a mangy ulcer, difficult to heal.–L.]
DEW-CLAWS
Next comes the depriving the dog of his ‘dew-claws’–the supplementary toes a little above the foot. They are supposed to interfere with hunting by becoming entangled with the grass or underwood. This rarely happens. The truth of the matter is, they are simply illustrations of the uniformity of structure which prevails in all animals, so far as is consistent with their destiny. The ‘dew-claws’ only make up the number of toes in other animals. If they are attached, as they are in some dogs, simply by a portion of skin, they may be removed without any very