These dogs have far more courage than the water-spaniel, all the
sagacity of the Newfoundland, more general talent, if the expression may
be used, and more individual attachment than either of them, and without
the fawning of the one, or the submissiveness of the other. The poodle
seems conscious of his worth, and there is often a quiet dignity
accompanying his demonstrations of friendship.
This dog, however, possesses a very peculiar kind of intelligence. It
will almost perform the common offices of a servant: it will ring the
bell and open the door. Mr. Wilkie, of Ladythorn in Northumberland, had
a poodle which he had instructed to go through all the apparent agonies
of dying. He would fall on one side, stretch himself out, and move his
hind legs as if he were in great pain; he would next simulate the
convulsive throbs of departing life, and then stretch out his limbs and
thus seem as if he had expired. In this situation he would remain
motionless, until he had his master's command to rise.
The portrait of Sancho, a poodle, that was with difficulty forced from
the grave of his master, after the battle of Salamanca, is familiar to
many of our readers. Enticed from his post he could not be, nor was he
at length taken away until weakened by grief and starvation. He by
degrees attached himself to his new master, the Marquis of Worcester,
but not with the natural ardour of a poodle. He was attentive to every
command, and could perform many little domestic offices. Sometimes he
would exhibit considerable buoyancy of spirit; but there oftener seemed
to be about him the recollection of older and closer friendship.
Another poodle occupies an interesting place in the history of the
Peninsular war. He too belonged to a French officer, who was killed at
the battle of Castella. The French were compelled to retreat before they
could bury their dead, and the soldiers wished to carry with them their
regimental favourite; but he would not be forced from the corpse of his
master. Some soldiers afterwards traversing the field of battle, one of
them discovered the cross of the Legion of Honour on the breast of the
fallen officer, and stooped to take it away, when the dog flew savagely
at him, and would not quit his hold, until the bayonet of another
soldier laid him lifeless.
A veterinary surgeon, who, before any other animal than the horse was
acknowledged to be the legitimate object of medical care, did not
disdain to attend to the diseases of the dog, used to say that there
were two breeds which he never wished to see in his infirmary, namely,
the poodle and the Norfolk spaniel; for, although not always difficult
to manage, he could never attach them to him, but they annoyed him by
their pitiful and imploring gaze during the day, and their mournful
howling at night.
Custom has determined that the natural coat of this animal shall be
taken from him. It may be a relief to the poodle for a part of his coat
to be stripped off in hot weather, and the curly hair which is left on
his chest, contrasted with his smooth and well-rounded loins and
quarters, may make it look pretty enough; but it should he remembered
that he was not designed by nature to be thus exposed to the cold of
winter, and that there are no dogs so liable to rheumatism, and that
rheumatism degenerating into palsy, as the well-trimmed poodle.
Contents/Detailed Contents, p. 2/Index
The Barbet
is a small poodle, the production of some unknown and disadvantageous
cross with the true poodle. It has all the sagacity of the poodle, and
will perform even more than his tricks. It is always in action; always
fidgety; generally incapable of much affection, but inheriting much
self-love and occasional ill temper; unmanageable by any one but its
owner; eaten up with red mange; and frequently a nuisance to its master
and a torment to every one else.
We must not, however, do it injustice; it is very intelligent, and truly
attached to its owner.
The barbet possesses more sagacity than most other dogs, but it is
sagacity of a particular kind, and frequently connected with various
amusing tricks. Mr. Jesse, in his
Gleanings in Natural History
, gives a
singular illustration of this. A friend of his had a barbet that was not
always under proper command. In order to keep him in better order, he
purchased a small whip, with which he corrected him once or twice during
a walk. On his return the whip was put on a table in the hall, but on
the next morning it was missing. It was soon afterwards found concealed
in an out-building, and again made use of in correcting the dog. Once
more it would have been lost, but, on watching the dog, who was
suspected of having stolen it, he was seen to take it from the hall
table in order to hide it once more.
Contents/Detailed Contents, p. 2/Index
The Maltese Dog
can be traced back to an early period. Strabo says that
"there is a town in Sicily called Melita, whence are exported many beautiful dogs called Canes Melitæi. They were the peculiar favourites of the women; but now (A.D. 25) there is less account made of these animals, which are not bigger than common ferrets or weasels, yet they are not small in understanding nor unstable in their love."
They are also found in Malta
and in other islands of the Mediterranean, and they maintain the same
character of being devotedly affectionate to their owners, while, it is
added, — and they are not loved the less for that, — they are ill-tempered
to strangers.
Contents/Detailed Contents, p. 2/Index
The Lion Dog
is a diminutive likeness of the noble animal whose name it bears. Its
head, neck, shoulders, and fore-legs down to the very feet, are covered
with long, wavy, silky hairs. On the other parts of the dog it is so
short as scarcely to be grasped, except that on the tail there is a
small bush of hair. The origin of this breed is not known; it is,
perhaps, an intermediate one between the Maltese and the Turkish dog.
Contents/Detailed Contents, p. 2/Index
The Turkish Dog,
as it is improperly called, is a native of hot climates. The supposition
of Buffon is not an improbable one, that, being taken from some
temperate country to one considerable hotter, the European dog probably
acquired some cutaneous disease. This is no uncommon occurrence in
Guinea, the East Indies, and South America. Some of these animals
afterwards found their way into Europe, and, from their singularity,
care was taken to multiply the breed. Aldrovandus states that the first
two of them made their appearance in Europe in his time, but the breed
was not continued, on account, as it was supposed, of the climate being
too cold for them.
The few that are occasionally seen in England bear about them every mark
of a degenerated race. They have no activity, and they show little
intelligence or affection. One singular circumstance appertains to all
that the author of this work has had the opportunity of seeing, — their
teeth become very early diseased, and drop from the gums. That eminent
zoologist, Mr. Yarrell, examining, with the author of this work, one
that had died, certainly not more than five years old, found that it had
neither incisors nor canine teeth, and that the molars were reduced to
one on each side, the large tubercular tooth being the only one that was
remaining. At the scientific meeting of the Zoological Society, the same
gentleman stated, that he had examined the mouths of two individuals of
the same variety, then alive at the gardens, in both of which the teeth
were remarkably deficient. In neither of them were there any false
molars, and the incisors in both were deficient in number. Before the
age of four years the tongue is usually disgustingly hanging from the
mouths of these animals.
Contents/Detailed Contents, p. 2/Index
Fatal slumbers, which he cannot shake off, steal upon
him, and he crouches under some ledge and sleeps, to wake no more. The
snow drifts on. It is almost continually falling, and he is soon
concealed from all human help.
On the top of Mount St. Bernard, and near one of the most dangerous of
these passes, is a convent, in which is preserved a breed of large dogs
trained to search for the benighted and frozen wanderer. Every night,
and particularly when the wind blows tempestuously, some of these dogs
are sent out. They traverse every path about the mountains, and their
scent is so exquisite that they can discover the traveller, although he
may lie many feet deep in the snow. Having found him, they set to work
and endeavour to scrape away the snow, uttering a deep bark that
reverberates from rock to rock, and tells those who are watching in the
convent that some poor wretch is in peril. Generally, a little flask of
spirits is tied round the neck of the animal, by drinking which the
benighted traveller may recruit his strength, until more effectual
rescue arrive. The monks hasten in the direction of the sound, and often
succeed in rekindling the vital spark before it is quite extinguished.
Very many travellers have been thus rescued from death by these
benevolent men and their intelligent and interesting quadruped servants.
of these Bernardine dogs, named Barry, had a medal tied round his
neck as a badge of honourable distinction, for he had saved the lives of
forty persons. He at length died nobly in his vocation. A Piedmontese
courier arrived at St. Bernard on a very stormy day, labouring to make
his way to the little village of St. Pierre, in the valley beneath the
mountain, where his wife and children lived. It was in vain that the
monks attempted to check his resolution to reach his family. They at
last gave him two guides, each of whom was accompanied by a dog, one of
which was the remarkable creature whose service had been so valuable.
Descending from the convent, they were overwhelmed by two avalanches or
heaps of falling snow, and the same destruction awaited the family of
the poor courier, who were travelling up the mountain in the hope of
obtaining some news of the husband and father.
A beautiful engraving has been made of this noble dog. It represents him
as saving a child which he had found in the Glacier of Balsore, and
cherished, and warmed, and induced to climb on his shoulders, and thus
preserved from, otherwise, certain destruction.
Contents/Detailed Contents, p. 2/Index
. Macgregor, however, states that
"in almost every other part of British America they are valuable and useful. They are remarkably docile and obedient to their masters, serviceable in all the fishing countries, and yoked in pairs to draw the winter's fuel home. They are faithful, good-natured, and ever friendly to man. They will defend their master and their master's property, and suffer no person to injure either the one or the other; and, however extreme may be the danger, they will not leave them for a minute. They seem only to want the faculty of speech, in order to make their good wishes and feelings understood, and they are capable of being trained for all the purposes for which every other variety of the canine species is used."1
That which most recommends the Newfoundland dog is his fearlessness of
water, and particularly as connected with the preservation of human
life. The writer of the present work knows one of these animals that has
preserved from drowning four human beings.
This breed of dog, though much esteemed both in England and other
portions of the world, as well for his majestic appearance as for many
useful and winning traits of character, has but few sportsmen as patrons
with us. He is not only used in England as a water-dog for the pursuit
of wild fowl, but has been trained by many sportsmen to hunt on
partridges, woodcocks, and pheasants, and is represented by Captain
Hawker and others as surpassing all others of the canine race, in
finding wounded game of every description.
Mr. Blaine remarks that,
Mr. Blaine remarks that,
"as a retriever, the Newfoundland dog is easily brought to do almost anything that is required of him, and he is so tractable, likewise, that, with the least possible trouble, he may be safely taken among pointers to the field, with whose province he will not interfere, but will be overjoyed to be allowed to look up the wounded game, which he will do with a perseverance that no speed and no distance can slacken, nor any hedge-row baulk. In cover he is very useful; some, indeed, shoot woodcocks to a Newfoundland, and he never shines more than when he is returning with a woodcock, pheasant, or hare, in his mouth, which he yields up, or even puts into your hand unmutilated."
Notwithstanding the high commendations of these gentlemen,
we cannot look upon the Newfoundland in any other light than that of a
dog, whose powers of sagacity are destined for display in the water.
In contending with this element, either in the preservation of human life, or in search of wounded fowl, he has no equal, and volumes might be filled with accounts of his various daring achievements in this particular branch, not only in England, but on the rivers of our own country. Mr. Blaine mentions two varieties of these dogs as being common in England, the Labrador and St. John. The former is very large, rough-haired, and carries his tail very high; the latter is smaller, more docile, and sagacious in the extreme, and withal much more manageable. We were not aware of these varieties, and more particularly as regards the difference in docility and sagacity, but are convinced, from subsequent observations, that such is the case even in our own country, for we have often noticed a great dissimilarity in the size and appearance of these dogs and attributed it to the effects of the climate and cross breeding with inferior animals. We are indebted to Mr. Skinner for bringing before the public a faithful and minute account of two of these animals imported into this country by Mr. Law, of Baltimore, and may be pardoned for giving again publicity to this gentleman's letter in relation to these two sagacious brutes.
In contending with this element, either in the preservation of human life, or in search of wounded fowl, he has no equal, and volumes might be filled with accounts of his various daring achievements in this particular branch, not only in England, but on the rivers of our own country. Mr. Blaine mentions two varieties of these dogs as being common in England, the Labrador and St. John. The former is very large, rough-haired, and carries his tail very high; the latter is smaller, more docile, and sagacious in the extreme, and withal much more manageable. We were not aware of these varieties, and more particularly as regards the difference in docility and sagacity, but are convinced, from subsequent observations, that such is the case even in our own country, for we have often noticed a great dissimilarity in the size and appearance of these dogs and attributed it to the effects of the climate and cross breeding with inferior animals. We are indebted to Mr. Skinner for bringing before the public a faithful and minute account of two of these animals imported into this country by Mr. Law, of Baltimore, and may be pardoned for giving again publicity to this gentleman's letter in relation to these two sagacious brutes.
Baltimore, Maryland, January 7th, 1845. "My Dear Sir: — In the fall of 1807 I was on board of the ship Canton, belonging to my uncle, the late Hugh Thompson, of Baltimore, when we fell in, at sea, near the termination of a very heavy equinoctial gale, with an English brig in a sinking condition, and took off the crew. The brig was loaded with codfish, and was bound to Poole, in England, from Newfoundland. I boarded her, in command of a boat from the Canton, which was sent to take off the English crew, the brig's own boats having been all swept away, and her crew in a state of intoxication. I found on board of her two Newfoundland pups, male and female, which I saved, and, subsequently, on our landing the English crew at Norfolk, our own destination being Baltimore, I purchased these two pups of the English captain for a guinea a-piece. Being bound again to sea, I gave the dog-pup, which was called Sailor, to Mr. John Mercer, of West River; and the slut-pup, which was called Canton, to Doctor James Stewart, of Sparrow's Point. The history which the English captain gave me of these pups was, that the owner of his brig was extensively engaged in the Newfoundland trade, and had directed his correspondent to select and send him a pair of pups of the most approved Newfoundland breed, but of different families, and that the pair I purchased of him were selected under this order. The dog was of a dingy red colour, and the slut black. They were not large; their hair was short, but very thick coated; they had dew claws. Both attained great reputation as water-dogs. They were most sagacious in everything, particularly so in all duties connected with duck-shooting. Governor Lloyd exchanged a Mexican ram for the dog at the time of the merino fever, when such rams were selling for many hundred dollars, and took him over to his estate on the eastern shore of Maryland, where his progeny were well known for many years after, and may still he known there, and on the western shore, as the Sailor breed. The slut remained at Sparrow's Point till her death, and her progeny were, and are still, well known through Patapsco Neck, on the Gunpowder, and up the bay, amongst the duck-shooters, as unsurpassed for their purposes. I have heard both Doctor Stewart and Mr. Mercer relate most extraordinary instances of the sagacity and performances of both dog and slut, and would refer you to their friends for such particulars as I am unable, at this distance of time, to recollect with sufficient accuracy to repeat.
Yours, in haste,
George Law."
These dogs are represented as being of fine carriage, broad-chested,
compact figure, and in every respect built for strength and activity.
Their patience and endurance were very great when pursuing wounded ducks through the floating ice, and when fatigued from extraordinary exertions were known to rest themselves upon broken portions of ice till sufficiently recovered again to commence the chase. We have seen some of the descendants of these sagacious animals on the Chesapeake, engaged, not only in bringing the ducks from the water when shot, but also toling them into shore within range of the murderous batteries concealed behind the blind.
This may not be an inappropriate place to speak of this wonderful mode of decoying ducks, termed toling, so extensively practised upon the Chesapeake bay and its tributaries, where the canvass-back and red-heads resort in such numerous quantities every fall. A species of mongrel water-dog, or often any common cur, is taught to run backwards and forwards after stones, sticks, or other missiles thrown from one side to the other. In his activity and industry in this simple branch of education, within the comprehension of any dog, consists the almost incredible art of toling the canvass-back.
With a dog of this character, the shooting party, consisting of several persons all prepared with heavy double-barrelled duck-guns, ensconce themselves at break of day behind some one of the numerous blinds temporarily erected along the shore contiguous to the feeding-grounds of these ducks. Everything being arranged, and the morning mists cleared off, the ducks will be seen securely feeding on the shallows not less than several hundreds of yards from the shore. The dog is now put in motion by throwing stones from one side of the blind to the other. This will soon be perceived by the ducks, who, stimulated by an extreme degree of curiosity, and feeling anxious to inform themselves as to this sudden and singular phenomenon, raise their heads high in the water and commence swimming for the shore. The dog being kept in motion, the ducks will not arrest their progress until within a few feet of the water's edge, and oftentimes will stand on the shore staring, as it were, in mute and silly astonishment at the playful motions of the dog. If well trained the dog takes no notice whatever of the duck, but continues his fascination until the quick report of the battery announces to him that his services are now wanted in another quarter, and he immediately rushes into the water to arrest the flight of the maimed and wounded, who, struggling on every side, dye the water with their rich blood. The discovery of this mode of decoying ducks was quite an accident, being attributed to a circumstance noticed by a sportsman, who, concealed behind a blind patiently awaiting the near approach of the canvass-back, observed that they suddenly lifted up their heads and moved towards the shore. Wondering at this singular and unusual procedure on the part of this wray bird, he naturally looked round to discover the cause, and observed a young fox sporting upon the river bank, and the ducks, all eagerness to gaze upon him, were steering their course directly for the shore.
These ducks will not only be decoyed by the dog, but will often come in by waving a fancy coloured handkerchief attached to the ramrod. We have seen a dog fail to attract their attention till bound around the loins with a white handkerchief, and then succeed perfectly well. The toling season continues about three weeks from the first appearance of the ducks, often a much shorter time, as these birds become more cautious, and are no longer deceived in this way.
The canvass-back toles better than any other duck; in fact, it is asserted by many sportsmen, that this particular variety alone can be decoyed in this mode. There are always numbers of other ducks feeding with the canvass-back, particularly the red-heads and black-necks, who partake of the top of the grass that the canvas-back discards after eating off the root, which is a kind of celery. These ducks, though they come in with the canvass-back when toled, do not seem to take any notice whatever of the dog, but continue to swim along, carelessly feeding, as if entrusting themselves entirely to the guidance of the other ducks.
As far as we have been able to judge, we are inclined to this opinion also, and do not recollect ever having succeeded in toling any other species of duck, unaccompanied by the canvass-back, although we have made the effort many times. These ducks are a very singular bird, and although very cunning under ordinary circumstances, seem perfectly bewildered upon this subject, as we were one of a party several years since, who actually succeeded in decoying the same batch of ducks three successive times in the course of an hour, and slaying at each fire a large number, as we counted out over forty at the conclusion of the sport. Although the toling of ducks is so simple in its process, there are few dogs that have sufficient industry and perseverance to arrive at any degree of perfection in the art. The dog, if not possessed of some sagacity and considerable training, is very apt to tire and stop running when the ducks have got near to the shore, but too far to be reached by the guns, which spoils all, as the birds are very apt to swim or fly off if the motion of the animal is arrested for a few moments. — L.
Their patience and endurance were very great when pursuing wounded ducks through the floating ice, and when fatigued from extraordinary exertions were known to rest themselves upon broken portions of ice till sufficiently recovered again to commence the chase. We have seen some of the descendants of these sagacious animals on the Chesapeake, engaged, not only in bringing the ducks from the water when shot, but also toling them into shore within range of the murderous batteries concealed behind the blind.
This may not be an inappropriate place to speak of this wonderful mode of decoying ducks, termed toling, so extensively practised upon the Chesapeake bay and its tributaries, where the canvass-back and red-heads resort in such numerous quantities every fall. A species of mongrel water-dog, or often any common cur, is taught to run backwards and forwards after stones, sticks, or other missiles thrown from one side to the other. In his activity and industry in this simple branch of education, within the comprehension of any dog, consists the almost incredible art of toling the canvass-back.
With a dog of this character, the shooting party, consisting of several persons all prepared with heavy double-barrelled duck-guns, ensconce themselves at break of day behind some one of the numerous blinds temporarily erected along the shore contiguous to the feeding-grounds of these ducks. Everything being arranged, and the morning mists cleared off, the ducks will be seen securely feeding on the shallows not less than several hundreds of yards from the shore. The dog is now put in motion by throwing stones from one side of the blind to the other. This will soon be perceived by the ducks, who, stimulated by an extreme degree of curiosity, and feeling anxious to inform themselves as to this sudden and singular phenomenon, raise their heads high in the water and commence swimming for the shore. The dog being kept in motion, the ducks will not arrest their progress until within a few feet of the water's edge, and oftentimes will stand on the shore staring, as it were, in mute and silly astonishment at the playful motions of the dog. If well trained the dog takes no notice whatever of the duck, but continues his fascination until the quick report of the battery announces to him that his services are now wanted in another quarter, and he immediately rushes into the water to arrest the flight of the maimed and wounded, who, struggling on every side, dye the water with their rich blood. The discovery of this mode of decoying ducks was quite an accident, being attributed to a circumstance noticed by a sportsman, who, concealed behind a blind patiently awaiting the near approach of the canvass-back, observed that they suddenly lifted up their heads and moved towards the shore. Wondering at this singular and unusual procedure on the part of this wray bird, he naturally looked round to discover the cause, and observed a young fox sporting upon the river bank, and the ducks, all eagerness to gaze upon him, were steering their course directly for the shore.
These ducks will not only be decoyed by the dog, but will often come in by waving a fancy coloured handkerchief attached to the ramrod. We have seen a dog fail to attract their attention till bound around the loins with a white handkerchief, and then succeed perfectly well. The toling season continues about three weeks from the first appearance of the ducks, often a much shorter time, as these birds become more cautious, and are no longer deceived in this way.
The canvass-back toles better than any other duck; in fact, it is asserted by many sportsmen, that this particular variety alone can be decoyed in this mode. There are always numbers of other ducks feeding with the canvass-back, particularly the red-heads and black-necks, who partake of the top of the grass that the canvas-back discards after eating off the root, which is a kind of celery. These ducks, though they come in with the canvass-back when toled, do not seem to take any notice whatever of the dog, but continue to swim along, carelessly feeding, as if entrusting themselves entirely to the guidance of the other ducks.
As far as we have been able to judge, we are inclined to this opinion also, and do not recollect ever having succeeded in toling any other species of duck, unaccompanied by the canvass-back, although we have made the effort many times. These ducks are a very singular bird, and although very cunning under ordinary circumstances, seem perfectly bewildered upon this subject, as we were one of a party several years since, who actually succeeded in decoying the same batch of ducks three successive times in the course of an hour, and slaying at each fire a large number, as we counted out over forty at the conclusion of the sport. Although the toling of ducks is so simple in its process, there are few dogs that have sufficient industry and perseverance to arrive at any degree of perfection in the art. The dog, if not possessed of some sagacity and considerable training, is very apt to tire and stop running when the ducks have got near to the shore, but too far to be reached by the guns, which spoils all, as the birds are very apt to swim or fly off if the motion of the animal is arrested for a few moments. — L.
A native of Germany was travelling one evening on foot through Holland,
accompanied by a large dog. Walking on a high bank which formed one side
of a dyke, his foot slipped, and he was precipitated into the water;
and, being unable to swim, soon became senseless. When he recovered his
recollection, he found himself in a cottage on the contrary side of the
dyke, surrounded by peasants, who had been using the means for the
recovery of drowned persons. The account given by one of them was, that,
returning home from his labour, he observed at a considerable distance a
large dog in the water, swimming and dragging, and sometimes pushing
along something that he seemed to have great difficulty in supporting,
but which he at length succeeded in getting into a small creek on the
opposite side. When the animal had pulled what he had hitherto supported
as far out of the water as he was able, the peasant discovered that it
was the body of a man, whose face and hands the dog was industriously
licking. The peasant hastened to a bridge across the dyke, and, having
obtained assistance, the body was conveyed to a neighbouring house,
where proper means soon restored the drowned man to life. Two very
considerable bruises, with the marks of teeth, appeared, one on his
shoulder and the other on his poll; hence it was presumed that the
faithful beast had first seized his master by the shoulder, and swam
with him in this manner for some time, but that his sagacity had
prompted him to quit this hold, and to shift it to the nape of the neck,
by which he had been enabled to support the head out of water; and in
this way he had conveyed him nearly a quarter of a mile before he had
brought him to the creek, where the banks were low and accessible.
Dr. Beattie relates an instance of a gentleman attempting to cross the
river Dee, then frozen over, near Aberdeen. The ice gave way about the
middle of the river; but, having a gun in his hand, he supported himself
by placing it across the opening. His dog then ran to a neighbouring
village, where, with the most significant gestures, he pulled a man by
the coat, and prevailed on him to follow him. They arrived at the spot
just in time to save the drowning man's life.
Of the noble disposition of the Newfoundland dog, Dr. Abel, in one of
his lectures on Phrenology, relates a singular instance.
"When this dog left his master's house, he was often assailed by a number of little noisy dogs in the street. He usually passed them with apparent unconcern, as if they were beneath his notice; but one little cur was particularly troublesome, and at length carried his impudence so far as to bite the Newfoundland dog in the leg. This was a degree of wanton insult beyond what he could patiently endure; and he instantly turned round, ran after the offender, and seized him by the skin of the back. In this way he carried him in his mouth to the quay, and, holding him some time over the water, at length dropped him into it. He did not, however, seem to design that the culprit should be punished capitally. He waited a little while, until the poor animal, who was unused to that element, was not only well ducked, but nearly sinking, and then plunged in, and brought him safe to land."
"It would be difficult," says Dr. Hancock, in his Essay on Instinct, "to conceive any punishment more aptly contrived or more completely in character. Indeed, if it were fully analyzed, an ample commentary might be written in order to show what a variety of comparisons and motives and generous feelings entered into the composition of this act."
No one ever drew more legitimate consequence from certain existing
premises.
One other story should not be omitted of this noble breed of water-dogs.
A vessel was driven on the beach of Lydd, in Kent. The surf was rolling
furiously. Eight poor fellows were crying for help, but not a boat could
be got off to their assistance. At length a gentleman came on the beach
accompanied by his Newfoundland dog: he directed the attention of the
animal to the vessel, and put a short stick into his mouth. The
intelligent and courageous fellow at once understood his meaning, sprung
into the sea, and fought his way through the waves. He could not,
however, get close enough to the vessel to deliver that with which he
was charged; but the crew understood what was meant, and they made fast
a rope to another piece of wood, and threw it towards him. The noble
beast dropped his own piece of wood and immediately seized that which
had been cast to him, and then, with a degree of strength and
determination scarcely credible, — for he was again and again lost under
the waves, — he dragged it through the surge and delivered it to his
master. A line of communication was thus formed, and every man on board
was rescued.
There is, however, a more remarkable fact recorded in the
Penny
Magazine.
"During a heavy gale a ship had struck on a rock near the land. The only chance of escape for the shipwrecked was to get a rope ashore; for it was impossible for any boat to live in the sea as it was then running. There were two Newfoundland dogs and a bull-dog on board. One of the Newfoundland dogs was thrown overboard, with a rope thrown round him, and perished in the waves. The second shared a similar fate: but the bull-dog fought his way through that terrible sea, and, arriving safe onshore, rope and all, became the saviour of the crew."
of the true Newfoundland dogs have been brought to Europe and have
been used as retrievers. They are principally valuable for the fearless
manner in which they will penetrate the thickest cover. They are
comparatively small, but muscular, strong, and generally black. A larger
variety has been bred, and is now perfectly established. He is seldom
used as a sporting dog, or for draught, but is admired on account of his
stature and beauty, and the different colours with which he is often
marked. Perhaps he is not quite so good-natured and manageable as the
smaller variety, and yet it is not often that much fault can be found
with him on this account.
A noble animal of this kind was presented to the Zoological Society by
His Royal Highness Prince Albert. He is a great ornament to the gardens;
but he had been somewhat unmanageable, and had done some mischief before
he was sent thither.
A portion of Lord Byron's beautiful epitaph on the death of his
Newfoundland dog will properly close our account of this animal:
"The poor dog! In life the firmest friend,
The first to welcome, foremost to defend;
Whose honest heart is still his master's own;
Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone."
Notwithstanding the many excellent qualities so conspicuous in this
noble breed of dog, he is said to possess one most ungenerous trait of
character, "a peculiar antipathy to sheep," and if not early trained to
endure their presence, will take every opportunity to destroy these
innocent animals.
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Capt. Lyon states that they are very similar in appearance to the
shepherd dog of England, but more muscular and broad chested, owing to
severe work; ears pointed, of a savage appearance; the finer dogs are
equal to the Newfoundland breed in point of height and general symmetry.
It is also somewhat curious to be informed that these dogs have no
particular season of œ strum, but bear young indiscriminately at all
times of the year, cold or warm, having very little or no effect upon
their reproductive powers, being often seen in heat during the month of
December when the thermometer was forty degrees below zero.
Their journeys are often without any certain object; but, if the dogs
scent the deer or the bear, they gallop away in that direction until
their prey is within reach of the driver, or they are enabled to assist
in destroying their foe. Captain Parry, in his Journal of a
Second
Voyage for the Discovery of a North-West Passage
, gives an amusing
account of these expeditions.
"A number of dogs, varying from six to twelve, are attached to each sledge by means of a single trace, but with no reins. An old and tried dog is placed as the leader, who, in their simple journeys, and when the chase is the object, steadily obeys the voice of the driver sitting in front of the sledge, with a whip long enough to reach the leader. This whip, however, is used as seldom as possible; for these dogs, although tractable, are ferocious, and will endure little correction. When the whip is applied with severity on one, he falls upon and worries his neighbour, and he, in his turn, attacks a third, and there is a scene of universal confusion, or the dogs double from side to side to avoid the whip, and the traces become entangled, and the safety of the sledge endangered. The carriage must then be stopped, each dog put into his proper place, and the traces re-adjusted. This frequently happens several times in the course of the day. The driver therefore depends principally on the docility of the leader, who, with admirable precision, quickens or slackens his pace, and starts off or stops, or turns to the right or left, at the summons of his master. When they are journeying homeward, or travelling to some spot to which the leader has been accustomed to go, he is generally suffered to pursue his own course; for, although every trace of the road is lost in the drifting snow, he scents it out, and follows it with undeviating accuracy. Even the leader, however, is not always under the control of his master. If the journey lies homeward, he will go his own pace, and that is usually at the top of his speed; or, if any game starts, or he scents it at a distance, no command of his driver will restrain him. Neither the dog nor his master is half civilized or subdued."
Each of these dogs will draw a weight of 120 lb. over the snow, at the
rate of seven or eight miles an hour.
It is extraordinary to consider the powers and wonderful speed of these
animals, almost equalling that of many horses.
Captain Lyon informs us that three dogs drew a sledge weighing 100 lbs. and himself, one mile in six minutes; his leader dog, which is generally more powerful than the others, drew 196 lb. the same distance in eight minutes; seven dogs ran one mile in four minutes and thirty seconds, with a heavy sledge full of men attached to them; ten dogs ran one mile in five minutes; nine dogs drew 1611 lb. the same distance in nine minutes. — Lyon's Journal, p. 243. — L.
Captain Lyon informs us that three dogs drew a sledge weighing 100 lbs. and himself, one mile in six minutes; his leader dog, which is generally more powerful than the others, drew 196 lb. the same distance in eight minutes; seven dogs ran one mile in four minutes and thirty seconds, with a heavy sledge full of men attached to them; ten dogs ran one mile in five minutes; nine dogs drew 1611 lb. the same distance in nine minutes. — Lyon's Journal, p. 243. — L.
In summer, many of these dogs are used as beasts of burden, and each
carries from thirty to fifty pounds. They are then much better kept than
in the winter; for they have the remains of the whale and sea-calf,
which their masters disdain to eat. The majority, however, are sent
adrift in the summer, and they live on the produce of the chase or of
their constant thievery. The exactness with which, the summer being
past, each returns to his master, is an admirable proof of sagacity, and
frequently of attachment.