“HAPPY FAMILIES”—ENEMIES BY NATURE MADE FRIENDS BY ART.
One of the most entertaining and popular features of Barnum’s Museum,
during the many years of its existence, was that miscellaneous
collection of minor birds, beasts, and reptiles, denominated the Happy
Family. Here in a huge cage are mingled many varieties of the animal
kingdom which are, in a state of nature, deadly enemies to one another.
Exhibitions of this kind are very rare in this country, though more
common in Europe. Probably the first one ever seen here was that
imported by Barnum in 1847, and which was the foundation of the present
collection; though, like the boy’s jack-knife which first had a new
blade and then a new handle, and then a new blade again, it would be
difficult to find any of the original importation in the collection of
the present day. It seems that Barnum, at about the date we have
mentioned, was in Scotland “working” Tom Thumb, who was then on a grand
exhibition tour. In the neighborhood of Edinburgh he accidentally
stumbled across the Happy Family, which was then, though an excellent
collection of animals, a rather one-horse affair as an exhibition by
itself. The shrewd showman, ever on the lookout for novelties or
curiosities, genuine or otherwise, fancied he saw a good speculation and
bought the whole concern for $2,500, and brought it in triumph to his
museum in New York.
[Illustration: THE “HAPPY FAMILY” AT BARNUM’S OLD MUSEUM.]
Curious and wonderful as this peaceable living together of animals of
such diverse natures appears, there is really very little mystery in it.
Many persons, noticing the sleepy and listless appearance of most of the
animals, have quite naturally come to the conclusion that they were
under the influence of some drug, which stupified them and rendered them
harmless. We believe that in no case is this the fact, because it is not
necessary. The main secret is to feed the animals to satiety; never
allowing them to feel the pangs of hunger, the great incentive for
preying upon other animals is taken away. Animals, unlike men, will
never eat unless they are really hungry. We have frequently observed boa
constrictors at public exhibitions, in whose cages rabbits or pigeons
had been placed to gratify the public with the sight of the huge snake
swallowing his food alive. Unless the snake is hungry the miserable
little victims remain for days cooped up with the hideous monsters
without the latter taking the slightest notice of them. It is a well
known fact that cats which are fed plentifully cease to be good mousers,
however excellent in that respect they have previously been, and will
permit a house to be overrun with these pests without molesting them.
Besides the plentiful feeding there is one other thing requisite to make
the animals live together peaceably. Many animals have an instinctive
desire to worry or kill others which are smaller or weaker than
themselves. Between many particular animals a kind of natural antipathy
exists. So natural does it seem that a dog should torment a cat that “a
cat and dog life” has become typical of a very uncomfortable state of
existence. There is on the part of all animals a feeling of suspicion
and antagonism toward strange animals, even if they are of their own
species. We are almost every day witnesses of exhibitions on a smaller
scale almost as wonderful as the Happy Family, were it not that their
frequency renders them common place. In thousands of households cats and
dogs live together, not only without quarreling but on really friendly
terms. Frequently have we seen cats and dogs feeding from the same dish,
and recollect one instance where a diminutive kitten, in the innocence
of feline infancy, seized upon one end of a bone which a monstrous watch
dog was busily gnawing, without being molested by the dog. It is just as
natural for cats to devour birds as for _any_ beast or bird of prey to
devour _its_ victims, and yet we have been familiar with more than one
instance of canary birds being allowed to fly around a room in which was
the household cat, without the cat showing the least disposition to
attack them. Had a strange bird came within her reach we doubt not that
same cat would have indulged in a feast at his expense without
hesitation. City dogs would make sad havoc among the inhabitants of any
poultry yard if allowed admission therein, but let any one of those same
dogs become a resident on a farm, let him understand that chickens and
turkeys are sacred from his touch and he will soon walk among them as
unconsciously as though there were no such things in existence. An
instance is on record of a cat who had been deprived of her kittens,
capturing a brood of young rats and suckling them with all the
tenderness of a mother. In this case, however, it would appear that
affection for the baby rats was not the motive for this strange act, for
as soon as the cat was eased of the inconvenience of her milk, she
disposed of her adopted family in a pleasant and effective manner—she
ate them up.
In preparing animals for Happy Families it is usual to keep them in
small cages, in the vicinity of each other. Occasionally two animals of
different dispositions are placed together, the keeper preventing any
fighting and punishing any symptoms of it. When the keeper thinks they
may be safely left together he retires to a short distance to wait
results. On the least sign of a quarrel he is down upon them, poking and
punching and stirring them up generally. If they show no disposition to
quarrel they are treated kindly, fed plentifully and permitted to enjoy
themselves as much as their restricted quarters will permit. When an
animal has thus learned to keep within the bounds of politeness and good
breeding he is introduced into the large cage with the grand collection.
In this large cage the principal disturbing elements are the monkeys,
who frequently obstinately insist upon _not_ being happy, and slinging
the mice around by their tails, pulling out the birds’ feathers and
other little acts of playfulness. The stout wire very soon reduces them
to quietness, and it very seldom happens that any serious disturbance
occurs. Doves and vultures roost calmly side by side, mice nestle
confidingly in the cat’s soft, warm fur, and so natural does it all
seem, that, for a moment one scarcely realizes of what incongruous
elements the whole is made up.
The origin of this novel idea of the Happy Family was probably this:
Francesco Michelo was the only son of a carpenter who resided in Tempio,
a town in the island of Sardinia. He had two sisters younger than
himself, and he had only attained his tenth year when a fire reduced his
father’s house to ruins, and at the same time caused the death of the
carpenter himself. The family were thus reduced to beggary, and the boy
in order to provide for the necessities of his mother and sisters took
up the occupation of catching birds for sale. Constructing a cage of
considerable dimensions from laths he proceeded to the woods to secure
the nests of young birds. Being active and industrious he succeeded
tolerably well, but the prices he obtained were not adequate to the
maintenance of the family. In this dilemma the boy conceived a new and
original method for increasing his income; necessity is the mother of
invention, and he meditated no less a project than to train a young
Angora cat to live harmlessly in the midst of his favorite songsters.
Such is the force of habit, such the power of education, that by slow
degrees he taught the martial enemy of his winged pets to live, to eat,
to drink, and to sleep in the midst of his little charges without once
attempting to devour or injure them. The cat, whom he called Bianca,
suffered the little birds to play all manner of tricks with her; and
never did she extend her talons or harm them in any way.
He went even farther, and taught the cat and the birds to play a kind of
game, in which each had to learn its own part. Puss was instructed to
curl herself into a circle, with her head between her paws, as though
asleep. The cage was then opened and the birds rushed out upon her and
endeavored to awaken her with repeated strokes of their beaks; then
dividing into two parties they attacked her head and her whiskers,
without the gentle animal appearing to take the least notice of their
gambols. At other times she would seat herself in the middle of the
cage, and begin to smooth her fur; the birds would then settle upon her
back, or sit like a crown upon her head, chirruping and singing as if in
all the security of a shady wood.
The sight of a sleek and beautiful cat seated calmly in the midst of a
cage of birds was so new and unexpected that when Francesco produced
them at the fair of Sussari he was surrounded instantly by a crowd of
admiring spectators. Their astonishment scarcely knew bounds when they
heard him call each feathered favorite by its name, and saw it fly
toward him with alacrity, till all were perched on his head, his arms,
and his fingers. Delighted with his ingenuity the spectators rewarded
him liberally, and the boy returned joyfully to his home with sufficient
money to last the family many months.
Not only do animals sometimes lose many of their natural characteristics
by association with human beings or with other animals, but they even in
some cases have been known to acquire the habits of animals of an
entirely different species from themselves. One of the most remarkable
instances of this was observed by La Malle. This gentleman had a kitten
which had attained the age of six months when his live stock was
increased by the arrival of a terrier pup, Fox, that was only two months
old. The dog and the cat were brought up together, and for two years Fox
had no association with other dogs, but received all his education from
the three daughters of the porter, and from the cat. The two animals
were continually together and acquired a great affection for one
another; the cat, however, as the senior taking the lead. Soon Fox began
to bound like a cat, and to roll a mouse or a ball with his fore paws
after the feline fashion. He also licked his paw and rubbed it over his
ear as he saw the cat do; nevertheless, owing to his native instinct, if
a strange cat came into the garden he chased it away. La Malle brought a
strange dog into the house, who manifested the utmost contempt and
indignation for all Fox’s habits. M. Andouin, too, had a dog which
acquired all the habits of a cat.
It has probably been remarked also, by most readers, that domestic
animals almost always imbibe something of the disposition of their
masters or mistresses. Thus, a plodding easygoing man will have a horse
of much the same characteristics if it has been long in his service,
whatever may have been the horse’s original disposition. Many similar
instances will no doubt suggest themselves to the reader. It would seem
that even mankind is not exempt from this influence, and that when men
have not the energy or mental force to exert this molding power over the
minds of their brute companions, the animals will exert it over them. At
the risk of wandering from our subject it may interest some to have
attention called to the testimony to this assertion, afforded by all
uncivilized countries. Dr. Virey, who has given considerable attention
to this rather queer subject, remarks: “Behold those men who pass their
lives among animals, as cowherds, shepherds, swineherds, grooms, and
poachers, they always acquire something of the nature of the animals
with which they associate. It is thus that man becomes heavy and rude
with the ox, filthy and a glutton with the pig, simple with the sheep,
courageous and an adept hunter with the dog. In like manner the Arab is
sober with his camel, the Tartar rough and blunt as his horses, the
Laplander timid as his reindeer, the mountaineer active as the goat, the
Hindoo somber as his elephant, because it is man’s fate to take the
nature of his animals when he cannot form their nature to his.” Without
recommending the adoption of this writer’s opinions entirely, for much
that he has stated is no doubt due to climate and local causes, his
theory is worthy of consideration by those who have a fancy for this
kind of speculation.
A correspondent of the Agriculturist relates an amusing instance of a
sort of “happy family” originated by the animals themselves: “About a
month since two cats had a ‘family’ within a few days of each other. All
the kittens were drowned except two of each set, which with their
respective mammas were snugly settled in a couple of boxes in the same
room. On the following day both families entire—or rather what remained
of them—were found coiled up together in the same box. They were not
disturbed and thenceforward the two mothers ceased to recognize any
difference between the two pairs of kittens. They would alternately
nurse the whole lot, or both affectionately entwined together divide
this ‘labor of love’ just as the kittens, lying snugly between them,
would happen to turn to the one or the other. But this is not all. Eddie
brought a couple of young squirrels from the woods, which soon became
very gentle. In less than two days _both_ were found in the box among
the cats and kittens, drawing from either or both the maternal fonts,
upon a like footing of equality and community with that previously
enjoyed by the kittens. The old cats seemed to acquiesce fully in the
arrangement, and so it proceeded for a couple of weeks, until one of the
squirrels was accidentally killed. The other having the freedom of the
house is now a romping playmate of both cats and kittens, who continue
uniformly to treat him as ‘one of the family.’”