when compared with its great domestic rival, the dog, its
intelligence, from being cast in quite a different mold, is very
frequently underrated. Comparatively unsocial in temperament,
wanderingly predaceous in habits and lacking in the affectionate
docility of the canine nature, this animal has never, in any
considerable degree, been subject to those psychologically
transforming influences whereby a prolonged and intimate association
with man has, as we shall subsequently see, so profoundly modified
the psychology of the dog. Nevertheless, the Cat is not only by
nature, an animal remarkable for intelligence, but, in spite of its
naturally imposed disadvantages of temperament, has not altogether
escaped those privileges of nurture which unnumbered centuries of
domestication could scarcely fail to supply. Thus, as contrasted with
most of the wild species of the genus when tamed from their youngest
days, the domestic cat is conspicuously less uncertain in its temper
toward its masters, the uncertainty of temper displayed by nearly all
the wild members of the feline tribe, when tame, being, of course,
an expression of the interference of individual with hereditary
experience."
The delicacy and carefulness of the Cat were never more
characteristically illustrated or more gracefully described than by
Prof. Philip G. Hamerton, in his interesting and graphically written
"Chapter on Animals," in which he takes occasion to say:
"One evening, before dinner time, the present writer had occasion
to go into a dining room where the cloth was already laid, the
glasses already upon the sideboard and table, and the lamp and
candles lighted. A Cat, which was a favorite in the house, finding
the door ajar, entered softly after me, and began to make a little
exploration after his manner. I have a fancy for watching animals
when they think they are not observed, so I affected to be entirely
absorbed in the occupation which detained me there, and took note
of the Cat's proceedings without in any way interrupting them. The
first thing he did was to jump upon a chair and thence up on the
sideboard. There was a good deal of glass and plate upon that piece
of furniture, but nothing as yet which, in the Cat's opinion, was
worth purloining, so he brought all his paws together on the very
edge of the board, the two forepaws in the middle, the others on
both sides, and sat, balancing himself for a minute or two whilst he
contemplated the long, glittering vista of the table. As yet there
was not an item of anything eatable upon it, but the cat probably
thought he might as well ascertain whether this were so or not by a
closer inspection, for, with a single spring, he cleared the abyss,
and alighted noiselessly on the tablecloth. He walked all over it,
and left no trace. He passed among the slender glasses, fragile
stems, like air-bubbles cut in half and balanced on spears of ice,
yet he disturbed nothing, broke nothing anywhere. When his inspection
was over he stepped out of sight, having been perfectly inaudible
from the beginning, so that a blind person could only have suspected
his visit by that mysterious sense which makes the blind aware of the
presence of another creature.
"This little scene reveals one remarkable characteristic of the
feline nature, the innate and exquisite refinement of its behavior.
It would be infinitely difficult, probably even impossible, to
communicate a delicacy of this kind to any animal by teaching. Why
should she tread so carefully? It is not from fear of offending her
master and incurring punishment, because to do so is in conformity
with her own idea of behavior, exactly as a lady would feel vexed
with herself if she broke anything in her own drawing-room, though no
one would blame her maladresse, and she would never feel the loss.
A dog on velvet is evidently out of place; he would be as happy
in clean straw; but a Cat on velvet does not awaken any sense of
the incongruous. If animals could speak, the dog would be a bluff,
outspoken, honest fellow, but the Cat would have the rare talent of
never saying a word too much."
XVII.
INTELLECTUAL POWER OF THE CAT.
The immortal Shelley possessed an intense sense of the supernatural,
and, while being a lover of the feline, appeared to be convinced
of the fact that Cats have an articulate language formed of easily
distinguishable words, purely Anglo-Saxon. The following story,
demonstrative of these facts, may be discounted by some of the more
incredulous, but it must be remembered that Shelley was renowned for
his veracity, and is, therefore, entitled to credence. He relates the
following narrative as he heard it from Mr. G. Lewis:
"A gentleman on a visit to a friend," says he, "who lives on the
skirts of an extensive forest, on the east of Germany, lost his way.
He wandered for some hours among the trees, when he saw a light at
a distance. On approaching it he was surprised to observe that it
proceeded from the interior of a ruined monastery. Before he knocked,
he thought it prudent to look through the window. He saw a multitude
of Cats assembled around a small grave, four of whom were letting
down a coffin with a crown upon it. The gentleman, startled at this
unusual sight, and imagining that he had arrived among the retreat of
fiends or witches, mounted his horse and rode away with the utmost
precipitation. He arrived at a late hour at his friend's house, who
had sat up for him. On his arrival his friend questioned him as to
the cause of the traces of trouble visible in his face. He began to
recount his adventure after much difficulty, knowing that it was
scarcely possible that his friend should give faith to his relation.
No sooner had he mentioned the coffin, with the crown upon it, than
his friend's Cat, who seemed to have been lying asleep before the
fire, leaped up, saying, 'Then, I am the King of the Cats!' and,
scrambling up the chimney, was seen no more."
Prof. Hamerton, in quoting the above, comments upon the story as
follows:
"Now, is not that a remarkable story, proving at the same time, the
attention Cats pay to human conversation even when they outwardly
seem perfectly indifferent to it, and the monarchical character of
their political organization, which, without this incident, might
have remained forever unknown to us? This happened, we are told, in
Eastern Germany, but in our own island, England, less than a hundred
years ago, there remained many a Cat, it is said, fit to be the
ministrant of a sorceress."
Concerning the origin of the domestic Cat, Rev. J.G. Wood in his
"Illustrated Natural History," says: "The Egyptian Cat is the origin
of the domestic Cat. It is conjectured that the domestic Cat was
imported from Egypt into Greece and Rome, and from thence to England."
"The Cat," continues Dr. Wood, "is a sadly calumniated creature.
The Cats with which I have been most familiar have been as docile,
tractable and good-tempered as any dog could be, and displayed an
amount of intellectual power which would be equaled by very few dogs
and surpassed by none. The most conspicuous varieties of the domestic
Cat are the Manx and Angora. Angora Cats have long, silky hair and
bushy tails, while the Manx Cat's body is covered with close fur,
and is tailless."
Dr. Wood, in his most interesting work, relates several stories
confirmatory of the fact that the Cat is wonderfully endowed with
intellectuality, and I select the following as being the most
pleasing:
"Three years ago I had a lovely kitten presented to me. Her fur was
of beautiful blue-gray, marked with glossy, black stripes, according
to the most improved zebra or tiger fashion. She was so very pretty
that she was named 'Pret,' and was, without exception, the wisest,
most loving and dainty pussy that ever crossed my path. When Pret
was very young, I fell ill with a nervous fever. She missed me
immediately in my accustomed place, sought for me, and placed herself
at my door until she found a chance for getting into the room, which
she soon accomplished, and began at once to try her little best
to amuse me with her little frisky, kitten tricks and pussy-cat
attentions. But soon finding that I was too ill to play with her, she
placed herself beside me, and at once established herself as head
nurse. In this capacity few human beings could have exceeded her in
watchfulness, or manifested more affectionate regard. It was truly
wonderful to note how soon she learned to know the different hours at
which I ought to take medicine or nourishment, and, during the night,
if my attendant was asleep, she would call her, and if she could not
awake her without such extreme measures, she would gently nibble the
nose of the sleeper, which never failed to produce the desired effect.
"Having thus achieved her purpose, Miss Pret would watch attentively
the preparation of whatever was needed, and then come and, with a
gentle purr announce its advent to me. The most marvelous part of the
matter was her never being five minutes wrong in her calculation of
the true time, even amid the stillness and darkness of the night. But
who shall say by what means this little being was enabled to measure
the fleeting moments, and by the aid of what power did she connect
the lapse of time with the needful attentions of a nurse and her
charge? Surely we have here something more than reason."
The reverend gentleman goes on to say: "The never-failing accuracy
of this wise little cat was the more surprising since she was
equally infallible by day or night. There was no striking clock in
the house, so that she could not have been assisted by its aid,
nor was it habit, for her assiduous attentions only began with the
illness and ceased with the recovery of the invalid. Instinct,
popularly so called, will not account for this wonderful capability
so suddenly coming into being, and so suddenly ceasing. Surely some
spirit-guiding power must have animated this simple little creature,
and have directed her in her labor of love.
"Another time, while Pret was yet in her kittenhood, another kitten
lived in the same house, and very much annoyed Pret by coming into
the room and eating the meat which had been laid out for herself.
However, Pret soon got over that difficulty by going to the plate
and, as soon as it was placed in the accustomed spot, picking out all
the large pieces of meat and hiding them under a table. She then sat
quietly down, and placed herself sentry over the hidden treasure,
while the intruding Cat entered the room, walked up to the plate and
finished the little scraps of meat that Pret had thought fit to leave
her. After the obnoxious individual had left the room, Pret brought
her concealed treasures from their hiding place and quietly consumed
them.
"When any one was writing Pret was rather apt to disconcert the
writer. She always must needs try her skill at anything that her
mistress did, and no sooner was the pen in motion than Pret would
jump on the table, and, seizing the end of the pen in her mouth, try
to direct its movements in her own way. That plan not answering her
expectations, she would pat the fresh writing paper with her paw, and
make sad havoc with the correspondence.
"Clever as Pret was, she sometimes displayed an unexpected simplicity
of character. After the fashion of the cat tribe, she delighted in
covering up the remnants of her food with any substance that seemed
most convenient. She was accustomed, after taking her meals, to
fetch a piece of paper and lay it over the saucer, or to put her paw
into her mistress' pocket and extract her handkerchief for the same
purpose. These little performances showed some depth of reasoning in
the creature, but she would sometimes act in a manner totally opposed
to rational action. Paper and handkerchiefs failing, she has been
often seen, after partly finishing her meal, to fetch one of her
kittens and lay it over the plate, for the purpose of covering up the
remaining food. When kitten, paper and handkerchief were all wanting,
she did her best to scratch up the carpet, and to lay the torn
fragments upon the plate. She had been known, in her anxiety, to find
covering for the superabundant food, to drag a tablecloth from its
proper locality, and to cause a sad demolition of the superincumbent
fragile ware.
"At last Pret died, and one of her offspring became a mother, and
I conveyed herself and kitten to her former home. Although she
had not seen the house since her early kittenhood, she recognized
the locality at once, and, pulling her kitten out of its basket,
established it in her accustomed bed on the sofa.
"One of her offspring is now domiciled in my own house, and there was
rather a quaint incident in connection with its departure.
"Minnie knew perfectly well that her kitten was going away from
her, and, after it had been placed in a little basket, she licked
it affectionately, and seemed to take a formal farewell of her
child. When next I visited the house Minnie would have nothing to
do with me, and when her mistress greeted me, she hid her face in
her mistress' arms. So I remonstrated with her, telling her that
her little one would be better off with me than if it had gone
to a stranger, but all to no purpose. At last I said, 'Minnie, I
apologize, and will not so offend again.'
"At this remark Minnie lifted up her head, looked me straight in
the face, and voluntarily came on my knee. Anything more humanly
appreciative could not be imagined.
"For many days after the abstraction of her offspring, Minnie would
not approach the various spots sanctified by the presence of her
lost child, and would not even repose on a certain shawl, knitted
from scarlet wool, which was her favorite resting-place. She is a
compassionate pussy, like her late mother, and mightily distressed
at any illness that falls on any of the household. When her mistress
has been suffering from a severe cough, I have seen Minnie jump up on
the sofa and put her paw sympathetically on the lips of the sufferer.
Sneezing seems to excite her compassion even more than coughing, and
causes her to display even a greater amount of sympathy."
XVIII.
SOME CHARACTERISTICS OF THE CAT.
One strong characteristic attributed to the Cat by its enemies and
traducers is quarrelsomeness. I will not take the trouble to deny the
assertion, but leave the reader to deny it out of his own experience,
and will give two versions of the old story of the Kilkenny Cats,
so frequently quoted in demonstration of the fighting qualities of
Pussy, who is, evidently, only too eager to live in peace with all
the world, in conformity with her great desire for comfort.
The story generally told is that two felines fought in a saw-pit with
such ferocious determination that, when the battle was over, nothing
could be found remaining of either combatant except the tail, the
marvelous inference to be drawn therefrom being, of course, that they
had devoured each other.
The ludicrous anecdote has, no doubt, been generally looked upon
as an absurdity of the Joe Miller class--but this, according to a
writer in the English "Notes and Queries," is all a mistake. He
continues, concerning the historical matter of the Kilkenny Cats, "I
have not the least doubt that the story of the mutual destruction
of the contending cats was an allegory designed to typify the
utter ruin to which centuries of litigation and embroilment on the
subject of conflicting rights and privileges tended to reduce the
respective exchequers of the rival municipal bodies of Kilkenny and
Irishtown--separate corporations, existing within the limits of
one city, and the boundaries of whose respective jurisdictions had
never been marked out or defined by any authority to which either was
willing to bow. Their struggle for precedence and for the maintenance
of alleged rights invaded commenced A.D. 1377, and were carried on
with truly feline fierceness and implacability until the end of the
seventeenth century, when it may be fairly considered that they had
mutually devoured each other, to the very tail, as we find their
property all mortgaged, and see them each passing by-laws that their
respective officers should be content with the dignity of their
stations and forego all salary until the suit at law with the other
pretended corporation should be terminated, and the incumbrances
thereby caused removed with the vanquishment of the enemy."
Those who have taken the story of the Kilkenny Cats in its literal
sense have done grievous injustice to the character of the grimalkins
of the "fair critic," who are really quite as demure and quietly
disposed a race of tabbies as it is in the nature of any animal to
be. The other story, which, to my mind seems mere probable than the
one just recited, is given by my friend, Mr. S. Clark Gould, in his
"Notes and Queries," as follows:
"During the rebellion which occurred in Ireland, in 1798, or, it may
be, in 1803, Kilkenny was garrisoned by a troop of Hessian soldiers,
who amused themselves in barracks by tying two cats together by their
tails and throwing them across a clothes-line to fight. One of the
officers, hearing of this cruel practice, resolved to stop it. As he
entered the room, one of the troopers seized a sword, cut the tails
in two as the animals hung across the line, and thus suffered the two
cats to escape, minus their tails, through the open window, and when
the officer inquired the meaning of the two bleeding tails being left
in the room, he was coolly told that two cats had been fighting, and
had devoured each other, all but the tails."
Before Noah Webster asserted that "the lower animals" only possessed
instinct, which he defined as a power "or disposition of mind,
by which, independent of all instruction or experience, without
deliberation, and without having any end in view, animals are
unerringly directed to do spontaneously whatever is necessary for the
preservation of the individual or the continuation of the kind," he
should have read the following authenticated stories, illustrative of
the forethought of the Cat. The first of these I take from an English
magazine, called "Nature," and it is communicated by Dr. J.R. Frost.
"Our servants have been accustomed, during the late frost, to throw
crumbs from the breakfast table to the birds, and I have, several
times, noticed that our cat used to wait there in ambush, in the
expectation of a hearty meal from one or two of the assembled
birds. Now, so far, this circumstance is not an example of abstract
reasoning, but to continue. For the last few days this practice of
feeding the birds has been left off. The cat, however, with an almost
incredible amount of forethought, was observed by myself, together
with two other members of my household, to scatter crumbs on the
grass with the obvious intention of enticing the birds."
Another correspondent writes to the same magazine as follows:
"A case somewhat similar to that mentioned by Dr. Frost, of a Cat
scattering crumbs, occurred within my own knowledge in a neighbor's
yard. During the recent severe winter a friend was in the habit
of throwing crumbs outside his bedroom window. The family have a
fine, black Cat, which, seeing that the crumbs brought birds, would
occasionally hide himself behind some shrubs, and when the birds
came to their breakfast would pounce upon them with varying success.
The crumbs had been thrown out as usual one afternoon, but left
untouched, and during the night a slight fall of snow occurred. On
looking out next morning, my friend observed puss busily engaged
in scratching away the snow. Curious to learn what she sought, he
waited, and saw her take the crumbs up from the cleared space and lay
them, one by one, on the snow. After doing this she retired behind
the shrubs to await further developments. This was repeated on two
occasions."
In further proof of the fact that Pussy possesses a wonderful power
of forethought, Prof. Romanes tells this story as coming from a
correspondent:
"While a paraffine lamp was being filled, some of the oil fell upon
the back of our Cat, and was afterward ignited by a cinder falling
upon it from the fire. The Cat, with her back in a blaze, in an
instant made for the door, which happened to be open, and sped up
the street about a hundred yards, where she plunged into the village
watering-trough, and extinguished the blaze. The trough had eight or
nine inches of water, and Puss was in the habit of seeing the fire
put out with water every night. The latter point is important, as it
shows the data of observation on which the animal reasoned."
Another correspondent, after describing a Cat and parrot in their
amiable relationship, proceeds to the following narration:
"One evening there was no one in the kitchen. Cook had gone upstairs
and left a bowl of dough to raise by the fire. Shortly after the Cat
rushed up after her, mewing and making what signs she could for her
to go downstairs, when she jumped up and seized her apron and tried
to drag her down. As she was in such a state of excitement, cook
went and found Polly shrieking, calling out, flapping her wings and
struggling violently, up to her knees in dough and stuck quite fast.
"No doubt if she had not been rescued she would have sunk in the
morass and been smothered."
Mr. Belshaw, writing to "Nature," says: "I was sitting in one of the
rooms of a friend's house the first evening there, and on hearing
a loud knock at the front door, was told not to heed it, as it was
only the kitten asking for admission. Not believing it, I watched for
myself, and very soon saw the kitten jump onto the door, hang on by
one leg, and with the other forepaw right through the knocker, rap
twice."
As being of general interest, I take the following explanation of
the common theory that the Cat has nine lives, from "Zoological
Recreations," by William J. Broderip, F.R.S.:
"The expostulating tabby in 'Gay's Fables' says to the old beldame:
"'Tis infamy to serve a hag,
Cats are thought imps, her broom a nag;
And boys against our lives combine,
Because, 'tis said, your cats have nine.
"The Cat probably owes this reputation to a nine-fold vitality, not
only to its extraordinary endurance of violence and its recovery from
injury, which frequently leaves it for dead, but also to the belief
that a witch was empowered to take on her a Cat's body nine times."
In demonstrating the finer sensibilities of the feline race, Prof.
Wood says:
"Some Cats appear to have a strong sense of honor, and will resist
almost every temptation when they are placed in a position of trust.
Still, some temptations appear so powerful that the honorable
feelings cannot resist them. For example, one Cat would resist every
lure, except a piece of fried sole, another could never withstand the
allurements of a little jug of milk or bottled stout. She would have
boldly averted her head from the same liquids if they were placed in
a basin or saucer, but the little jug, in which she could just dip
her paw, and lick it possessed irresistible fascination for her. And
as other examples, I have known several cats who possessed a strong
taste for fermented liquors, and I have seen one of these creatures
eat a piece of bread, soaked in pure brandy, and beg earnestly for a
further supply."
XIX.
GENEROSITY, CUNNING AND CAMARADERIE.
Possibly there is no better way for an author to illustrate his
subject or punctuate an argument than by quoting the most interesting
and conclusive stories which are directly to the point. I have done
so and will continue to do so in this chapter, hoping that the
stories narrated will not only be of interest, but impressive and
conclusive.
From "Petland," by Rev. J.C. Wood, I take the following story, which
is illustrative of the generosity and self-sacrifice of the feline
animal. It is a relation about "Pret," the grandson of the original
of that name, of whom the reverend gentleman had something to say in
a previous chapter:
"He was fond of entertaining his friends in the yard, and was in
the habit of bringing dinner to the club for the benefit of his
acquaintances, and then wanting a second dinner on his own account,
in the evening. He even went so far as to be disgusted with the meals
furnished to a neighboring cat, thinking that cat's-meat was not fit
for feline consumption. Acting upon this supposition, he was seen to
take away the cat's-meat as soon as it was brought by the itinerant
purveyor, to carry it into the cellar, bury it under a heap of coals,
and to take his own dinner upstairs for his friends."
The imitative power of Pussy has never been illustrated with more
force than in the story which I take from the work by Prof. George
J. Romanes, and which occurred, as he states, under his personal
observation.