Chapter 22
Perhaps the most remarkable instance known of what are called "Learned Dogs," is that of two poodles, which were trained at Milan, and exhibited at Paris in the spring of 1830. The account of them is given by a lady, whose veracity is not doubtful, and who herself saw their performance. "The elder, named Fido," says she, "is white, with some black patches on his head and back; and the younger, who is called Bianco, is also white, but with red spots. Fido is a grave and serious personage, walks with dignity round the circle assembled to see him, and appears much absorbed in reflection. Bianco is young and giddy, but full of talent when he chooses to apply it. Owing to his more sedate disposition, however, Fido is called upon to act the principal part of the exhibition. A word is dictated to him from the Greek, Latin, Italian, German, French, or English language, and selected from a vocabulary where fifty words in each tongue are inscribed, and which all together make three hundred different combinations. An alphabet is placed before Fido, and from it he takes the letters which compose the given word, and lays them in proper order at the feet of his master. On one occasion he was told to spell the word Heaven, and he quickly placed the letters till he came to the second e; he stood for an instant as if puzzled, but in a moment after he took the e out of the first syllable, and put it into the second. His attainments in orthography, however, are not so surprising as those in arithmetic. He practises the four rules with extraordinary facility, arranges the double ciphers as he did the double vowels in the word Heaven, and rarely makes an error. When such does occur, his more thoughtless companion is called in to rectify it, which he invariably does with the greatest quickness; but as he had rather play than work, and pulls Fido by the ears to make him as idle as himself, he is quickly dismissed. One day, the steady Fido spelt the word Jupiter with a _b_ instead of a _p_; Bianco was summoned to his aid, who, after contemplating the word, pushed out the _b_ with his nose, and seizing a _p_ between his teeth, put it into the vacancy. Fido is remarkable for the modest firmness with which he insists upon his correctness when he feels convinced of it himself; for a lady having struck a repeating watch in his ear, he selected an 8 for the hour, and a 6 for the three-quarters. The company present, and his master, called out to him he was wrong. He reviewed his numbers and stood still. His master insisted, and he again examined his ciphers; after which he went quietly, but not in the least abashed, into the middle of the carpet, and looked at his audience. The watch was then sounded again, and it was found to have struck two at every quarter; and Fido received the plaudits which followed with as gentle a demeanour as he had borne the accusation of error.
"One occupation seems to bring the giddy Bianco to the gravity of the elder savant; and when the spectators are tired of arithmetic and orthography, the two dogs either sit down to _ecarte_, or become the antagonists of one of the company. They ask for, or refuse cards, as their hands require, with a most important look; they cut at the proper times, and never mistake one suit for another. They have recourse to their ciphers to mark their points; and on one occasion Bianco having won, he selected his number, and on being asked what were the gains of his adversary, he immediately took an O between his teeth, and showed it to the querist; and both seemed to know all the terms of the game as thoroughly as the most experienced card-players. All this passes without the slightest visible or audible sign between the poodles and their master; the spectators are placed within three steps of the carpet on which the performance goes forward; people have gone for the sole purpose of watching the master; everybody visits them, and yet no one has hitherto found out the mode of communication established between them and their owner. Whatever this communication may be, it does not deduct from the wonderful intelligence of these animals; for there must be a multiplicity of signs, not only to be understood with eyes and ears, but to be separated from each other in their minds, or to be combined one with another, for the various trials in which they are exercised.
"I have seen learned pigs and ponies, and can, after these spectacles, readily imagine how the extraordinary sagacity of a dog may be brought to a knowledge of the orthography of three hundred words; but I must confess myself puzzled by the acquirements of these poodles in arithmetic, which must depend upon the will of the spectator who proposes the numbers; but that which is most surprising of all is the skill with which they play _ecarte_. The gravity and attention with which they carry on their game is almost ludicrous; and the satisfaction of Bianco when he marks his points is perfectly evident."
Nor is this a solitary instance of the extraordinary sagacity of the poodle. A lady of my acquaintance had one for many years, who was her constant companion both in the house and in her walks. When, however, either from business or indisposition, her mistress did not take her usual walk on Wimbledon Common, the dog, by jumping on a table, took down the maid-servant's bonnet, and held it in her month till she accompanied the animal to the Common.
A friend of mine had a poodle dog, who was not very obedient to his call when he was taken out to run in the fields. A small whip was therefore purchased, and the dog one day was chastised with it. The whip was placed on a table in the hall of the house, and the next morning it could not be found. It was soon afterwards discovered in the coal-cellar. The dog was a second time punished with it, and again the whip was missed. It was afterwards discovered that the dog had attempted to hide the instrument by which pain had been inflicted on him. There certainly appears a strong approach to reason in this proceeding of the dog. _Cause_ and _effect_ seem to have been associated in his mind, if his mode of proceeding may be called an effort of it.
In Messrs. Chambers' brochure of amusing anecdotes of dogs we find the following:--
An aged gentleman has mentioned to us that, about fifty years ago, a Frenchman brought to London from eighty to a hundred dogs, chiefly poodles, the remainder spaniels, but all nearly of the same size, and of the smaller kind. On the education of these animals their proprietor had bestowed an immense deal of pains. From puppyhood upwards they had been taught to walk on their hind-legs, and maintain their footing with surprising ease in that unnatural position. They had likewise been drilled into the best possible behaviour towards each other; no snarling, barking, or indecorous conduct took place when they were assembled in company. But what was most surprising of all, they were able to perform in various theatrical pieces of the character of pantomimes, representing various transactions in heroic and familiar life, with wonderful fidelity. The object of their proprietor was, of course, to make money by their performances, which the public were accordingly invited to witness in one of the minor theatres.
Amongst their histrionic performances was the representation of a siege. On the rising of the curtain there appeared three ranges of ramparts, one above the other, having salient angles and a moat, like a regularly-constructed fortification. In the centre of the fortress arose a tower, on which a flag was flying; while in the distance behind appeared the buildings and steeples of a town. The ramparts were guarded by soldiers in uniform, each armed with a musket or sword, of an appropriate size. All these were dogs, and their duty was to defend the walls from an attacking party, consisting also of dogs, whose movements now commenced the operations of the siege. In the foreground of the stage were some rude buildings and irregular surfaces, from among which there issued a reconnoitring party; the chief, habited as an officer of rank, with great circumspection surveyed the fortification; and his sedate movements, and his consultations with the troops that accompanied him, implied that an attack was determined upon. But these consultations did not pass unobserved by the defenders of the garrison. The party was noticed by a sentinel and fired upon; and this seemed to be the signal to call every man to his post at the embrasures.
Shortly after, the troops advanced to the escalade; but to cross the moat, and get at the bottom of the walls, it was necessary to bring up some species of pontoon, and, accordingly, several soldiers were seen engaged in pushing before them wicker-work scaffoldings, which moved on castors, towards the fortifications. The drums beat to arms, and the bustle of warfare opened in earnest. Smoke was poured out in volleys from shot-holes; the besieging forces pushed forward in masses, regardless of the fire; the moat was filled with the crowd; and, amid much confusion and scrambling, scaling-ladders were raised against the walls. Then was the grand tug of war. The leaders of the forlorn hope who first ascended were opposed with great gallantry by the defenders; and this was, perhaps, the most interesting part of the exhibition. The chief of the assailants did wonders; he was seen now here, now there, animating his men, and was twice hurled, with ladder and followers, from the second gradation of ramparts: but he was invulnerable, and seemed to receive an accession of courage on every fresh repulse. The rattle of the miniature cannon, the roll of the drums, the sound of trumpets, and the heroism of the actors on both sides, imparted an idea of reality to the scene.
After numerous hairbreadth escapes, the chief surmounted the third line of fortifications, followed by his troops; the enemy's standard was hurled down, and the British flag hoisted in its place; the ramparts were manned by the conquerors; and the smoke cleared away, to the tune of "God save the King."
It is impossible to convey a just idea of this performance, which altogether reflected great credit on its contriver, as also on the abilities of each individual dog. We must conclude that the firing from the embrasures, and some other parts of the _mechanique_, were effected by human agency; but the actions of the dogs were clearly their own, and showed what could be effected with animals by dint of patient culture.
Another specimen of these canine theatricals was quite a contrast to the bustle of the siege. The scene was an assembly-room, on the sides and the further end of which seats were placed; while a music-gallery, and a profusion of chandeliers, gave a richness and truth to the general effect. Livery-servants were in attendance on a few of the company, who entered and took their seats. Frequent knockings now occurred at the door, followed by the entrance of parties attired in the fashion of the period. These were, of course, the same individuals who had recently been in the deadly breach; but now all was tranquillity, elegance, and ease. Parties were formally introduced to each other with an appearance of the greatest decorum. The dogs intended to represent ladies were dressed in silks, gauzes, laces, and gay ribbons. Some wore artificial flowers, with flowing ringlets; others wore the powdered and pomatumed head-dress, with caps and lappets, in ludicrous contrast to the features of the animals. The animals which represented gentlemen were judiciously equipped; some as youthful and others as aged beaux, regulated by their degrees of proficiency, since those most youthfully dressed were most attentive to the ladies. The frequent bow and return of curtsey produced great mirth in the audience. On a sudden the master of the ceremonies appeared; he wore a superb court-dress, and his manners were in agreement with his costume. To some of the gentlemen he gave merely a look of recognition; to the ladies he was generally attentive; to some he projected his paw familiarly, to others he bowed with respect; and introduced one to another with an air of elegance that surprised and delighted the spectators.
As the performance advanced the interest increased. The music was soon interrupted by a loud knocking, which announced the arrival of some important visitor. Several livery servants entered, and then a sedan-chair was borne in by appropriately dressed dogs; they removed the poles, raised the head, and opened the door of the sedan; forth came a lady, splendidly attired in spangled satin and jewels, and her head decorated with a plume of ostrich feathers! She made a great impression, and appeared as if conscious of her superior attraction; meanwhile the chair was removed, the master of the ceremonies, in his court-dress, was in readiness to receive the _elegante_, and the bow and curtsey were admirably interchanged. The band now struck up an air of the kind to which ball-room companies are accustomed to promenade, and the company immediately quitted their seats and began to walk ceremoniously in pairs round the room. Three of the ladies placed their arms under those of their attendant gentlemen. On seats being resumed, the master of the ceremonies and the lady who came in the sedan-chair arose; he led her to the centre of the room; Foote's minuet struck up; the pair commenced the movements with an attention to time; they performed the crossings and turnings, the advancings, retreatings, and obeisances, during which there was a perfect silence, and they concluded amid thunders of applause. What ultimately became of the ingenious manager with his company, our informant never heard.
The following anecdotes prove the strong affection and perseverance of the poodle. The late Duke of Argyll had a favourite dog of this description, who was his constant companion. This dog, on the occasion of one of the Duke's journeys to Inverary Castle, was, by some accident or mistake, left behind in London. On missing his master, the faithful animal set off in search of him, and made his way into Scotland, and was found early one morning at the gate of the castle. The anecdote is related by the family, and a picture shown of the dog.
A poor German artist, who was studying at Rome, had a poodle dog, who used to accompany him, when his funds would allow it, to an ordinary frequented by other students. Here the dog got scraps enough to support him. His master, not being able to keep up the expense, discontinued his visits to the ordinary. The dog fared badly in consequence, and at last his master returned to his friends in Germany, leaving the dog behind him. The poor animal slept at the top of the stairs leading to his master's room, but watched in the day time at the door of the ordinary, and when he saw his former acquaintances crowding in, he followed at their heels, and thus gaining admittance was fed till his owner came back to resume his studies.
A gentleman possessed a poodle dog and a terrier, between whom a great affection existed. When the terrier was shut up, as was sometimes the case, the poodle always hid such bones or meat as he could procure, and afterwards brought the terrier to the spot where they were concealed. He was constantly watched, and observed to do this act of kindness.
The sagacity of the poodle is strongly shown by the following fact. Mr. B----t, who was constantly in the habit of making tours on the Continent, was always accompanied by a poodle dog. In one of his journeys he was seated at a table-d'hote next to a person whose conversation he found so agreeable, that a sort of intimacy sprung up between them. The dog, however, for the first time he had ever done so to any one, showed a dislike to the stranger, and so much so, that Mr. B----t could not help remarking it. In the course of his tour he again fell in with the stranger, when the intimacy was renewed, and Mr. B----t offered him a seat in his carriage as they were both going the same way. No sooner, however, had the stranger entered the carriage, than the dog showed an increased dislike of him, which continued during the course of the journey. At night they slept at a small inn, in a wild and somewhat unfrequented country, and on separating in the evening to go to their respective beds, the poodle evinced the greatest anger, and was with difficulty restrained from attacking the stranger. In the middle of the night Mr. B----t was awoke by a noise in his room, and there was light enough for him to perceive that his dog had seized his travelling companion, who, upon being threatened, confessed that he had entered the room for the purpose of endeavouring to purloin Mr. B----t's money, of which he was aware that he possessed a considerable quantity. This is not a solitary instance of an instinctive faculty which enables dogs to discriminate, by showing a strong dislike, the characters of particular individuals.
A friend has sent me the following account of a poodle he once had:--
"Many years ago I had a poodle who was an excellent retriever. He was a middle-sized, active dog, a first-rate waterman, with a nose so particularly sensitive that no object, however minute, could escape its 'delicate investigation.' Philip was the hardiest animal in the world--no sea would prevent him from carrying a dead bird through the boiling breakers, and I have seen him follow and secure a wounded mallard, although in the attempt his legs were painfully scarified in breaking through a field of ice scarcely the thickness of a crown-piece. Philip, though of French extraction, had decidedly Irish partialities. He delighted in a glass of grog; and no matter with what labour and constancy he had returned from retrieving, he still enjoyed a glass of punch. When he had drunk it, he was in high glee, running round and round to try and catch his own tail, and even then allowing the cat to approach him, which he was by no means disposed to do at other times."
When my daughter was in Germany, she sent me the following interesting anecdote of a poodle, the accuracy of which she had an opportunity of ascertaining.
An inhabitant of Dresden had a poodle that he was fond of, and had always treated kindly. For some reason or another he gave her to a friend of his, a countryman in Possenderf, who lived three leagues from Dresden. This person, who well knew the great attachment of the dog to her former master, took care to keep her tied up, and would not let her leave the house till he thought she had forgotten him. During this time the poodle had young ones, three in number, which she nourished with great affection, and appeared to bestow upon them her whole attention, and to have entirely given up her former uneasiness at her new abode. From this circumstance her owner thought she had forgotten her old master, and therefore no longer kept her a close prisoner. Very soon, however, the poodle was missing, and also the three young ones, and nothing was heard of her for several days. One morning his friend came to him from Dresden, and informed him that the preceding evening the poodle had come to his house with one of the puppies in her mouth, and that another had been found dead on the road to Possenderf. It appeared that the dog had started in the night, carrying the puppies (who were not able to walk) one after the other, a certain distance on the road to Dresden, with the evident intention of conveying them all to her much-loved home and master. The third puppy was never found, and is supposed to have been carried off by some wild animal or bird, while the poor mother was in advance with the others. The dead one had apparently perished from cold.
The late Dr. Chisholm of Canterbury had a remarkable poodle, which a correspondent informs me he has often seen. On one occasion he was told, for the first time, by way of trial, to fetch his master's slippers. He went up-stairs, and brought down one only. He was then told, "You have brought one only, go and fetch the other;" and the other was brought. The next evening the dog was again told to bring the slippers. He went up-stairs, put one slipper within the other, and brought both down. This dog appeared to understand much of our language. When dining with Dr. Chisholm and others, his intelligence was put to the proof by my correspondent. Some one would hide an article, open the door, and bring in the dog, saying, "Find so-and-so." The poodle used to look up steadily in the face of the speaker, until he was told whether the article was hid high or low; he would then search either on the ground, or on the chairs and furniture, and bring the article, never taking any notice of any other thing that was lying about. He would, upon being ordered, go up-stairs and bring down a snuff-box, stick, pocket-handkerchief, or anything, understanding as readily what was said to him as if spoken to a servant.
Another poodle would go through the agonies of dying in a very systematic manner. When he was ordered to die, he would tumble over on one side, and then stretch himself out, and move his hind legs in such a way as expressed that he was in great pain, first slowly and afterwards very quickly. After a few convulsive throbs, indicated by putting his head and whole body in motion, he would stretch out all his limbs and cease to move, lying on his back with his legs turned upwards, as if he had expired. In this situation he remained motionless until he had his master's commands to get up.
The following anecdote was communicated to the Rev. Mr. Jenyns by Mrs. Grosvenor, of Richmond, Surrey:--
A poodle dog belonging to a gentleman in Cheshire was in the habit of not only going to church, but of remaining quietly in the pew during service, whether his master was there or not. One Sunday the dam at the head of a lake in that neighbourhood gave way, so that the whole road was inundated. The congregation, in consequence, consisted of a very few, who came from some cottages close by, but nobody attended from the great house. The clergyman informed the lady, that whilst reading the Psalms he saw his friend, the poodle, come slowly up the aisle dripping with wet, having swam above a quarter of a mile to get to church. He went into the usual pew, and remained quietly there to the end of the service.
The Marquess of Worcester (the late Duke of Beaufort), who served in the Peninsular war, had a poodle which was taken from the grave of his master, a French officer, who fell at the battle of Salamanca, and was buried on the spot. The dog had remained on the grave until he was nearly starved, and even then was removed with difficulty; so faithful are these animals in protecting the remains of those they loved.
A poodle dog followed his master, a French officer, to the wars; the latter was soon afterwards killed at the battle of Castella, in Valencia, when his comrades endeavoured to carry the dog with them in their retreat; but the faithful animal refused to leave the corpse, and they left him. A military marauder, in going over the field of battle, discovering the cross of the legion of honour on the dead officer's breast, attempted to capture it, but the poodle instantly seized him by the throat, and would have ended his career had not a comrade run the honest canine guardian through the body.
Mr. Blaine, in his "Account of Dogs," says that, "strange as it may appear, it is no less true, that a poodle dog actually scaled the high buildings of my residence in Wells Street, Oxford Street, proceeded along several roofs of houses, and made his way down by progressive but very considerable leaps into distant premises; from whence, by watching and stratagem, he gained the street, and returned home in order to join his mistress, for whose sake he had encountered these great risks."