Chapter 29

It was common in Staffordshire, before young dogs were able to cope with a bull, to practise them with a man, who stood proxy for the bull. On one occasion of this sort, Mr. _Deputy_ Bull being properly staked, began to perform his part by snorting and roaring lustily. The dog ran at him, but was repulsed,--the courage of the animal, however, increased with every struggle, and at last he seized his biped antagonist by the cheek, who, with rueful countenance, endured it for some time, till at length he was compelled to cry out to his companion to take the dog off; but he, unwilling to damp the courage of his _eleve_, vociferated, "_Woot_ spoil the pup, _mun_?--let 'em taste _bloode_ first!"

Bull-dogs are now much less common than they were. A cross breed between them and a good terrier is said to produce better fighters and harder biters than the pure bull-dog. If one of these dogs is crossed with a greyhound, the offspring is found to be too courageous, and from this cause in attacking deer they have been frequently killed.

THE DALMATIAN OR COACH-DOG.

This dog, says Mr. Bewick, has been erroneously called the Danish dog by some authors, and by Buffon the harrier of Bengal; but his native country is Dalmatia, a mountainous district on the Adriatic coast. He has been domesticated in Italy for upwards of two centuries, and is the common harrier of that country.

The Dalmatian is also used there as a pointer, to which his natural propensity more inclines him than to be a dog of the chase: he is said to be easily broken, and to be very staunch. He is handsome in shape, something between the British foxhound and English pointer; his head more acute than that of the latter, and something longer: his general colour white, and his whole body and legs covered with small irregular-sized black or reddish-brown spots. The pure breed has tanned cheeks and black ears. He is much smaller than the large Danish dog. A singular opinion prevailed at one time in this country, that this beautiful dog was rendered more handsome by having his ears cropped: this barbarous fancy is now fast dying away.

The only use to which this elegant dog is applied is as an attendant upon a carriage, for which the symmetry of his form and beauty of his skin peculiarly fit him. He familiarises readily with horses, and is therefore invariably entrusted to the stables. A most erroneous notion has long prevailed that neither this nor the great Danish dog has the sense of smell. They have been indiscriminately called the Coach-dog.

Mr. Dibdin, in his "Tour through England," says, "I took with me last summer one of those spotted dogs called Danish, but the breed is Dalmatian. It was impossible for anything to be more sportive, yet more inoffensive, than this dog. Throughout the mountainous parts of Cumberland and Scotland his delight was to chase the sheep, which he would follow with great alertness even to the summits of the most rugged steeps; and when he had frightened them, and made them scamper to his satisfaction (for he never attempted to injure them), he constantly came back wagging his tail, and appearing very happy at those caresses which we, perhaps absurdly, bestowed upon him.

"About seven miles on this side of Kinross, in the way from Stirling, he had been amusing himself playing these pranks, the sheep flying from him in all directions, when a black lamb turned upon him, and looked him full in the face; he seemed astonished for an instant, but before he could rally his resolution, the lamb began to paw and play with him. It is impossible to describe the effect this had upon him; his tail was between his legs, he appeared in the utmost dread, and slunk away confused and distressed: presently his new acquaintance invited him, by all manner of gambols, to be friendly with him. What a moment for Pythagoras or Lavater! Gradually overcoming his fears, he accepted this brotherly challenge, and they raced away together, and rolled over one another like two kittens. Presently appeared another object of distress. The shepherd's boy came to reclaim his lamb; but it paid no attention except to the dog, and they were presently at a considerable distance. We slackened our pace for the convenience of the boy, but nothing would do; we could no more call off the dog than he could catch the lamb. They continued sporting in this manner for more than a mile and a half. At length, having taken a circuit, they were in our rear; and after we had crossed a small bridge, the boy with his pole kept the lamb at bay, and at length caught him; and having tied his plaid round him, it was impossible for him to escape. Out of fear of the boy, and in obedience to us, the dog followed reluctantly; but the situation of the lamb all this time cannot be pictured; he made every possible attempt to escape from the boy, even at the risk of tumbling into the river, rather than not follow the dog. This continued till the prospect closed, and we had lost sight of our new ally, whose unexpected offer of amity to the Dalmatian seemed ever after to operate as a friendly admonition, for from that day he was cured of following sheep."

Lord Maynard, some years since, lost a coach-dog in France, which he in vain endeavoured to find. He returned to England, where he had not long arrived before the dog appeared; but the mode of his return remained for ever unexplained, though it is more than probable that the dog's sagacity, when he had made his escape from confinement, prompted him to go to the sea-coast, where he found means to get on board some vessel bound for the opposite shore.

The late Mr. Thomas Walker, of Manchester, had a small Dalmatian dog, which was accustomed to be in the stable with two of his carriage-horses, and to lie in a stall with one of them, to which he was particularly attached. The servant who took care of the horses was ordered to go to Stockport (which is distant about seven miles), upon one of the horses, and took the one above mentioned (the favourite of the dog), with him, and left the other with the dog in the stable; being apprehensive lest the dog, which was much valued by his master, should be lost upon the road. After the man and horse had been gone about an hour, some person coming accidentally into the stable, the dog took the opportunity of quitting his confinement, and immediately set off in quest of his companion. The man, who had finished the business he was sent upon, was just leaving Stockport, when he was surprised to meet the dog he had left in the stable, coming with great speed down the hill into the town, and seemed greatly rejoiced to meet with his friendly companion, whom he had followed so far by scent. The friendship between these animals was reciprocal; for the servant, going one day to water the carriage-horses at a large stone trough, which was then at one end of the exchange, the dog as usual accompanying them, was attacked by a large mastiff, and in danger of being much worried, when the horse (his friend), which was led by the servant with a halter, suddenly broke loose from him, and went to the place where the dogs were fighting, and with a kick of one of his heels struck the mastiff from the other dog clean into a cooper's cellar opposite; and having thus rescued his companion, returned quietly with him to drink at the conduit.

THE GREAT DANISH DOG.

Buffon was of opinion that this variety, which is chiefly found in Denmark, Russia, and Northern Germany, is only the Matin (the usual sheep-dog of France) transported into a northern latitude. The colour of this dog is generally white, marked all over his body with black spots and patches, in general larger than those of the Dalmatian, of which some have supposed him to be a congener. His ears are for the most part white, while those of the Dalmatian are usually black.

The great Danish dog is a fine sprightly animal, but is of little use either for sporting or watching. Like the Dalmatian, he is chiefly used in this country as an attendant on carriages, to which he forms an elegant appendage.

Mr. Johnson, a traveller from Manchester, on his route through Scotland on horseback, was benighted, and coming to a small public-house on the road, he thought it better to take up his lodgings there, if possible, than to proceed further that night. On entering the house, he found only an old woman, who, to his inquiries, answered she would accommodate him with a bed, and provide for the horse in a small shed, if he would assist her in carrying hay and litter, as there was no other person then in the house. This was readily agreed to by Mr. Johnson, who, after having done so, and taken a little refreshment, was shown by the old woman to his bedroom.

A large Danish dog, which accompanied him on his journey, offered to go up to the room with him, which the old woman strongly objected to, but Mr. Johnson firmly persisted in having him admitted. The dog, on entering the room, began to growl, and was altogether very unruly. His master in vain attempted to quiet him,--he kept growling and looking angrily under the bed, which induced Mr. Johnson to look there likewise, when, to his utter astonishment, he saw a man concealed at the farther end. On encouraging the dog, he sprang immediately at him, whilst Mr. Johnson seized his pistols, and presenting one at the stranger, who had a large knife in his hand, and was struggling with the dog, declared he would instantly shoot him if he made further resistance. The man then submitted to be bound, and acknowledged that his intention was to rob and murder Mr. Johnson, which was thus providentially prevented by the wonderful sagacity of his faithful dog. Mr. Johnson, after securely binding the man and fastening the door, went (accompanied by his dog) to the shed where his horse was left, which he instantly mounted, and escaped without injury to the next town, where he gave to a magistrate a full account of the murderous attempt, and the culprit was taken into custody and afterwards executed.

A gamekeeper belonging to the castle of Holstein (in Denmark), returned one evening from a long and fatiguing chase, and deposited the game in the larder, without being aware that he had locked up his dog at the same time. Business of importance unexpectedly called him away immediately afterwards, and he did not return for five days; when, mindful of his game, he went to the larder, and beheld his dog stretched dead at the door. The gamekeeper stood extremely affected; but what were his sensations, when he saw on the table eleven brace of partridges, and five grouse untouched! This admiration increased his grief, when he found the poor dog had suffered starvation rather than transgress his duty.

At a convent in France, twenty paupers were served with a dinner at a certain hour every day. A matin dog belonging to the convent did not fail to be regularly present at this repast, to receive the scraps which were now and then thrown to him. The guests, however, were poor and hungry, and of course not very wasteful, so that their pensioner did little more than scent the feast, of which he would fain have partaken. The portions were served by a person at the ringing of a bell, and delivered out by means of what in religious houses is termed a _tour_--a machine like the section of a cask, that, by turning round on a pivot, exhibits whatever is placed on the concave side, without discovering the person who moves it. One day this dog, who had only received a few scraps, waited till the paupers were all gone, took the rope in his mouth, and rang the bell. His stratagem succeeded. He repeated it the next day with the same good fortune. At length the cook, finding that twenty-one portions were given out instead of twenty, was determined to discover the culprit. In doing which he had no great difficulty; for, lying in wait, and noticing the paupers as they came for their different portions, and that there was no intruder except the dog, he began to suspect the truth; which he was confirmed in when he saw the animal continue with great deliberation till the visitors were all gone, and then pull the bell. The matter was related to the community; and to reward him for his ingenuity, the dog was permitted to ring the bell every day for his dinner, on which a mess of broken victuals was always afterwards served out to him.

THE CUR DOG.

Almost every dog which is cross-bred is ranked as a cur dog or mongrel, but that which is specially described by Youatt, is the shepherd's dog crossed with the terrier, and is nearly smooth; but he is considerably longer in the legs in proportion to the size of his body, is stronger in the make, has half-pricked ears, is generally black and white, although sometimes all black, and has rather a short tail. In the north of England and southern counties of Scotland great attention is paid to the breeding of this dog, and to breaking him in for driving and tending cattle, which he does with great intelligence; indeed his sagacity in everything is uncommonly great, and he is very trusty. These dogs bite very keenly, and always make their attack at the heels of cattle, who, on this account, having no defence against them, are quickly compelled to run.

The cur has long and somewhat deservedly obtained a very bad name as a bully and a coward; and certainly his habit of barking at everything that passes, and flying at the heels of the horse, renders him often a very dangerous nuisance. He is, however, valuable to the cottager; he is a faithful defender of his humble dwelling; no bribe can seduce him from his duty; and he is a useful and an effectual guard over the clothes and scanty provisions of the labourer, who may be working in some distant part of the field. All day long he will lie upon his master's clothes seemingly asleep, but giving immediate warning of the approach of a supposed marauder. He has a propensity, when at home, to fly at every horse and every strange dog; and of young game of every kind there is not a more ruthless destroyer than the village cur.

The following story is strictly authentic:--"Not long ago a young man, an acquaintance of Lord Fife's coachman, was walking, as he had often done, in his lordship's stables at Banff. Taking an opportunity when the servants were not regarding him, he put a bridle into his pocket. A Highland cur that was generally about the stables observed the theft, and immediately began to bark at him; and when he got to the stable door would not let him pass, but held him fiercely by the leg to prevent him. As the servants had never seen the dog act thus before, and the same young man had been often with them, they could not imagine what could be the reason of the dog's conduct. However, when they perceived the end of a valuable bridle peeping out of the young man's pocket they were able to account for it, and on his giving it up the dog let go his hold and allowed him to pass."

"I recollect," says Mr. Hall, "when I passed some time at the Viscount Arbuthnot's at Hatton, in the parish of Marykirk, one of his lordship's estates, that when the field-servants went out one morning they found a man whom they knew, and who lived a few miles' distance, lying on the road a short way from the stable with a number of bridles, girths, &c. &c. near him, and the house-dog, which was of the Highland breed, lying also at his ease, holding the seat of the man's breeches in his mouth. The man confessed his crime, and told them that the log had struggled with him, and held him in that position for five hours; but that immediately after the servants came up he let go his hold."

The following anecdote is well known. In London, a few years since, a box, properly directed, was sent to a merchant's shop to lie there all night, and be shipped off with other goods next morning. A dog, which accidentally came into the shop with a customer, by smelling the box, and repeatedly barking in a peculiar way, led to the discovery that it did not contain goods, but a fellow who intended to admit his companions and plunder the shop in the night-time.

John Lang, Esq., deputy-sheriff of Selkirk, had a female cur big with pups, which on one occasion, when out in the fields attending the cattle, was taken in travail, and pupped on the moor. She concealed her litter in a whin-bush, brought the cattle home at the usual time with the utmost care, and, having delivered her charge, returned to the moor and brought home the puppies one by one. Mr. Lang, with that humanity which marks his character, preserved the whole litter, that he might not give the least cause of pain to so faithful and so affectionate an animal.

In Lambeth Church there is a painting of a man with a dog on one of the windows. In reference to this, we learn by tradition that a piece of ground near Westminster Bridge, containing one acre and nineteen roods (named Pedlar's Acre), was left to this parish by a pedlar, upon condition that his picture, and that of the dog, should be perpetually preserved on painted glass on one of the windows of the church, which the parishioners have carefully performed. The time of this gift was in 1504, when the ground was let at 2_s._ 8_d._ per annum; but in the year 1762 it was let on lease at 100_l._ per year, and a fine of 800_l._; and is now worth more than 250_l._ yearly. The reason alleged for the pedlar's request is, that being very poor, and passing the aforementioned piece of ground, he could by no means get his dog away, which kept scratching a particular spot of earth, until he attracted his master's notice; who going back to examine the cause, and pressing with his stick, found something hard, which, on a nearer inspection, proved to be a pot of gold. With part of this money he purchased the land, and settled in the parish; to which he bequeathed it on the conditions aforesaid.

"It was with pleasure," observes Mr. Taylor, in his "General Character of the Dog," "that I watched the motions of a grateful animal belonging to one of the workmen employed at Portsmouth dockyard. This man had a large cur dog, who regularly every day brought him his dinner upwards of a mile. When his wife had prepared the repast, she tied it up in a cloth, and put it in a hand-basket; then calling Trusty (for so he was properly named), desired him to be expeditious, and carry his master's dinner, and be sure not to stop by the way. The dog, who perfectly well understood his orders, immediately obeyed, by taking the handle of the basket in his mouth, and began his journey. It was laughable to observe that, when tired by the way, he would very cautiously set the basket on the ground; but by no means would suffer any person to come near it. When he had sufficiently rested himself, he again took up his load, and proceeded forward until he came to the dock gates. Here he was frequently obliged to stop, and wait with patience until the porter, or some other person, opened the door. His joy was then visible to every one. His pace increased; and with wagging tail, expressive of his pleasure, he ran to his master with the refreshment. The caresses were then mutual; and after receiving his morsel as a recompense for his fidelity, he was ordered home with the empty basket and plates, which he carried back with the greatest precision, to the high diversion of all spectators."

Some years since, a distiller, who lived at Chelsea, in Middlesex, had a middle-sized brown cur dog, crossed with the spaniel, which had received so complete an education from the porter, that he was considered a very valuable acquisition. This porter used generally to carry out the liquors to the neighbouring customers in small casks, tied up in a coarse bag, or put in a barrow; and whenever the man thought proper to refresh himself (which was frequently the case), he would stop the barrow, and calling Basto (which was the dog's name), in a very peremptory manner bid him mind the bag; and away he went to drink; and frequently left the barrow in the middle of the street. Basto always rested near his trust, and sometimes apparently asleep; which induced many idle people, who, seeing a bag in the road without an owner, to attempt stealing the same. But no sooner had they endeavoured to decamp with the prize, than this vigilant creature flew at them with such outrage, as obliged them immediately to relinquish the undertaking; and glad were they to escape with a few bites and whole bones, and leave the tempting bait to catch other dishonest rogues, as it had done them.

One day, a person having particular business with the master, which required dispatch, went to the distillery adjoining the dwelling-house, thinking it very likely he might meet him there giving orders to the servant; and finding the outward door open, walked into the still-room: but no sooner had he gone a few steps than a fierce growl assailed his ears, and almost imperceptibly he was pinioned by fear to the wall. The affrighted person called loudly for help; but the family being at the other part of the house, his cries were fruitless. The generous animal, however, who had the frightened man close in custody, scorned to take a mean advantage of his situation by recommencing hostilities. He remained perfectly quiet, unless the delinquent attempted to stir--he then became as furious as ever; so that the prisoner prudently remained like a statue fixed against the wall, while Basto, like a sentinel on his post, kept a strict guard, lest he should escape before the family arrived. In about twenty minutes the master, in coming from the parlour to the counting-house, beheld the prisoner, and Basto walking backwards and forwards beside him. The dog, by a thousand gesticulations, seemed to wish a proper explanation might take place. The master laughed heartily at the poor fellow's expense, as did he likewise when liberated; but he had ever after the prudence, when business brought him to the house, to ring loudly at the door, notwithstanding it frequently stood wide open.

A carrier on his way to Dumfries had occasion to leave his cart and horse upon the public road, under the protection of a passenger and his dog Trusty. Upon his return, he missed a led horse belonging to a gentleman in the neighbourhood, which he had tied to the end of a cart, and likewise one of the female passengers. On inquiry he was informed that, during his absence, the female, who had been anxious to try the mettle of the pony, had mounted it, and that the animal had set off at full speed. The carrier expressed much anxiety for the safety of the young woman, casting at the same time an expressive look at his dog. Trusty observed his master's eye, and aware of its meaning, instantly set off in pursuit of the pony, which he came up with soon after he had passed the first toll-bar on the Dalbeattie road; when he made a sudden spring, seized the bridle, and held the animal fast. Several people having observed the circumstance, and the perilous situation of the girl, came to her relief. The dog, however, notwithstanding their repeated endeavours, would not quit his hold of the bridle; and the pony was actually led into the stable with the dog, till such time as the carrier should arrive. Upon the carrier entering the stable, Trusty wagged his tail in token of satisfaction, and immediately relinquished the bridle to his master.