A vessel was driven by a storm on the beach of Lydd, in Kent. The surf
was rolling furiously. Eight men were calling 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 noble animal to the vessel, and put a short stick
into his mouth. The intelligent and courageous dog at once understood
his meaning, and sprung into the sea, fighting his way through the
foaming waves. He could not, however, get close enough to the vessel
to deliver that with which he was charged, but the crew joyfully made
fast a rope to another piece of wood, and threw it towards him. The
sagacious dog saw the whole business in an instant; he dropped his own
piece, and immediately seized that which had been cast to him; and
then, with a degree of strength and determination almost incredible,
he dragged it through the surge and delivered it to his master. By
this means a line of communication was formed, and every man on board
saved.
The keeper of a ferry on the banks of the Severn had a sagacious
Newfoundland dog. If a dog was left behind by his owner in crossing,
and was afraid of taking to the water, the Newfoundland dog has been
frequently known to take the yelping animal in his mouth and convey it
into the river. A person while rowing a boat, pushed his Newfoundland
dog into the stream. The animal followed the boat for some time, till,
probably finding himself fatigued, he endeavoured to get into it by
placing his feet on the side. His owner repeatedly pushed the dog
away, and in one of his efforts to do so he overbalanced himself and
fell into the river, and would probably have been drowned, had not the
noble and generous animal immediately seized and held him above water
till assistance arrived from the shore.
About twelve years ago a fine dog of a cross-breed, between a
Newfoundland and a pointer, had been left by the captain of a vessel
in the care of Mr. Park, of the White Hart Inn, Greenock. A friend of
his, a gentleman from Argyllshire, took a fancy to this dog; and, when
returning home, requested the loan of him for some time from Mr. Park,
which he granted. This gentleman had some time before married a lady
much to the dissatisfaction of his friends, who, in consequence,
treated her with some degree of coldness and neglect. While he
remained at home, the dog constantly attended him, and paid no
apparent attention to the lady, who, on her part, never evinced any
particular partiality for the dog. One time, however, the gentleman
was called from home on business, and was to be absent several days.
He wished to take the dog with him; but no entreaties could induce him
to follow. The animal was then tied up to prevent his leaving the
house in his absence; but he became quite furious till he was
released, when he flew into the house and found his mistress, and
would not leave her. He watched at the door of whatever room she was
in, and would allow no one to approach without her special permission.
When the gentleman returned home, the dog seemed to take no more
notice of the lady, but returned quietly to his former lodging in the
stable. The whole circumstance caused considerable surprise; and the
gentleman, wishing to try if the dog would again act in the same
manner, left home for a day or two, when the animal actually resumed
the faithful guardianship of his mistress as before; and this he
continued to do whenever his master was absent, all the time he
remained in his possession, which was two years.
The following anecdotes of an astonishing dog called Dandie are
related by Captain Brown:--
"Mr. M'Intyre, patent-mangle manufacturer, Regent Bridge, Edinburgh,
has a dog of the Newfoundland breed, crossed with some other, named
Dandie, whose sagacious qualifications are truly astonishing and
almost incredible. As the animal continues daily to give the most
striking proofs of his powers, he is well known in the neighbourhood,
and any person may satisfy himself of the reality of those feats, many
of which the writer has himself had the pleasure to witness.
"When Mr. M'Intyre is in company, how numerous soever it may be, if he
but say to the dog, 'Dandie, bring me my hat,' he immediately picks
out the hat from all the others, and puts it in his master's hand.
"Should every gentleman in company throw a penknife on the floor, the
dog, when commanded, will select his master's knife from the heap, and
bring it to him.
"A pack of cards being scattered in the room, if his master have
previously selected one of them, the dog will find it out and bring it
to him.
"A comb was hid on the top of a mantel-piece in the room, and the dog
required to bring it, which he almost immediately did, although in the
search he found a number of articles, also belonging to his master,
purposely strewed around, all which he passed over, and brought the
identical comb which he was required to find, fully proving that he is
not guided by the sense of smell, but that he perfectly understands
whatever is spoken to him.
"One evening, some gentlemen being in company, one of them
accidentally dropped a shilling on the floor, which, after the most
careful search, could not be found. Mr. M'Intyre seeing his dog
sitting in a corner, and looking as if quite unconscious of what was
passing, said to him, 'Dandie, find us the shilling, and you shall
have a biscuit.' The dog immediately jumped upon the table and laid
down the shilling, which he had previously picked up without having
been perceived.
"One time, having been left in a room in the house of Mrs. Thomas,
High Street, he remained quiet for a considerable time; but as no one
opened the door, he became impatient, and rang the bell; and when the
servant opened the door, she was surprised to find the dog pulling the
bell-rope. Since that period, which was the first time he was observed
to do it, he pulls the bell whenever he is desired; and what appears
still more remarkable, if there is no bell-rope in the room, he will
examine the table, and if he finds a hand-bell, he takes it in his
mouth and rings it.
"Mr. M'Intyre having one evening supped with a friend, on his return
home, as it was rather late, he found all the family in bed. He could
not find his boot-jack in the place where it usually lay, nor could he
find it anywhere in the room after the strictest search. He then said
to his dog, 'Dandie, I cannot find my bootjack; search for it.' The
faithful animal, quite sensible of what had been said to him,
scratched at the room-door, which his master opened. Dandie proceeded
to a very distant part of the house, and soon returned, carrying in
his mouth the bootjack, which Mr. M. now recollected to have left that
morning under a sofa.
"A number of gentlemen, well acquainted with Dandie, are daily in the
habit of giving him a penny, which he takes to a baker's shop and
purchases bread for himself. One of these gentlemen, who lives in
James's Square, when passing some time ago, was accosted by Dandie, in
expectation of his usual present. Mr. T---- then said to him, 'I have
not a penny with me to-day, but I have one at home.' Having returned
to his house some time after, he heard a noise at the door, which was
opened by the servant, when in sprang Dandie to receive his penny. In
a frolic Mr. T---- gave him a bad one, which he, as usual, carried to
the baker, but was refused his bread, as the money was bad. He
immediately returned to Mr. T----'s, knocked at the door, and when the
servant opened it, laid the penny down at her feet, and walked off,
seemingly with the greatest contempt.
"Although Dandie, in general, makes an immediate purchase of bread
with the money which he receives, yet the following circumstance
clearly demonstrates that he possesses more prudent foresight than
many who are reckoned rational beings.
"One Sunday, when it was very unlikely that he could have received a
present of money, Dandie was observed to bring home a loaf. Mr.
M'Intyre being somewhat surprised at this, desired the servant to
search the room to see if any money could be found. While she was
engaged in this task, the dog seemed quite unconcerned till she
approached the bed, when he ran to her, and gently drew her back from
it. Mr. M. then secured the dog, which kept struggling and growling
while the servant went under the bed, where she found 71/2_d._ under a
bit of cloth; but from that time he never could endure the girl, and
was frequently observed to hide his money in a corner of a saw-pit,
under the dust.
"When Mr. M. has company, if he desire the dog to see any one of the
gentlemen home, it will walk with him till he reach his home, and then
return to his master, how great soever the distance may be.
"A brother of Mr. M.'s and another gentleman went one day to Newhaven,
and took Dandie along with them. After having bathed, they entered a
garden in the town; and having taken some refreshment in one of the
arbours, they took a walk around the garden, the gentleman leaving his
hat and gloves in the place. In the meantime some strangers came into
the garden, and went into the arbour which the others had left. Dandie
immediately, without being ordered, ran to the place and brought off
the hat and gloves, which he presented to the owner. One of the
gloves, however, had been left; but it was no sooner mentioned to the
dog than he rushed to the place, jumped again into the midst of the
astonished company, and brought off the glove in triumph.
"A gentleman living with Mr. M'Intyre, going out to supper one
evening, locked the garden-gate behind him, and laid the key on the
top of the wall, which is about seven feet high. When he returned,
expecting to let himself in the same way, to his great surprise the
key could not be found, and he was obliged to go round to the front
door, which was a considerable distance about. The next morning strict
search was made for the key, but still no trace of it could be
discovered. At last, perceiving that the dog followed him wherever he
went, he said to him, 'Dandie, you have the key--go, fetch it.' Dandie
immediately went into the garden and scratched away the earth from the
root of a cabbage, and produced the key, which he himself had
undoubtedly hid in that place.
"If his master place him on a chair, and request him to sing, he will
instantly commence a howling, which he gives high or low as signs are
made to him with the finger.
"About three years ago a mangle was sent by a cart from the warehouse,
Regent Bridge, to Portobello, at which time the dog was not present.
Afterwards, Mr. M. went to his own house, North Back of the Canongate,
and took Dandie with him, to have the mangle delivered. When he had
proceeded a little way the dog ran off, and he lost sight of him. He
still walked forward; and in a little time he found the cart in which
the mangle was, turned towards Edinburgh, with Dandie holding fast by
the reins, and the carter in the greatest perplexity; the man stated
that the dog had overtaken him, jumped on his cart, and examined the
mangle, and then had seized the reins of the horse and turned him
fairly round, and that he would not let go his hold, although he had
beaten him with a stick. On Mr. M.'s arrival, however, the dog quietly
allowed the carter to proceed to his place of destination."
* * * * *
The following is another instance of extraordinary sagacity. A
Newfoundland dog, belonging to a grocer, had observed one of the
porters of the house, and who was often in the shop, frequently take
money from the till, and which the man was in the habit of concealing
in the stable. The dog, having witnessed these thefts, became
restless, pulling persons by the skirts of their coats, and
apparently wishing them to follow him. At length, an apprentice had
occasion to go to the stable; the dog followed him, and having drawn
his attention to the heap of rubbish under which the money was buried,
began to scratch till he had brought the booty to view. The apprentice
brought it to his master, who marked the money and restored it to the
place where it had been hidden. Some of the marked money was soon
afterwards found on the porter, who was taken before a magistrate, and
convicted of the theft.
A Newfoundland dog, which was frequently to be seen in a tavern in the
High Street of Glasgow, lay generally at the door. When any person
came to the house, he trotted before them into an apartment, rang the
bell, and then resumed his station at the door.
The great utility and sagacity of the Newfoundland dog, in cases of
drowning, were shown in the following instance. Eleven sailors, a
woman, and the waterman, had reached a sloop of war in Hamoaze in a
shore-boat. One of the sailors, stooping rather suddenly over the side
of the boat to reach his hat, which had fallen into the sea, the boat
capsized, and they were all plunged into the water. A Newfoundland
dog, on the quarter-deck of the sloop, seeing the accident, instantly
leaped amongst the unfortunate persons, and seizing one man by the
collar of his coat, he supported his head above water until a boat had
hastened to the spot and saved the lives of all but the waterman.
After delivering his burden in safety, the noble animal made a wide
circuit round the ship in search of another person; but not finding
one, he took up an oar in his mouth which was floating away, and
brought it to the side of the ship.
A sailor, attended by a Newfoundland dog, became so intoxicated, that
he fell on the pavement in Piccadilly, and was unable to rise, and
soon fell asleep. The faithful dog took a position at his master's
head, and resisted every attempt made to remove him. The man, having
at last slept off the fumes of his intoxicating libations, awoke, and
being told of the care his dog had taken of him, exclaimed, "This is
not the first time he has kept watch over me."
On Thursday evening, January 28, 1858, as the play of "Jessie Vere"
was being performed at Woolwich Theatre, and when a scene in the third
act had been reached, in which a "terrific struggle" for the
possession of a child takes place between the fond mother and two
"hired ruffians," a large Newfoundland dog, which had by some means
gained admittance with its owner into the pit, leaped over the heads
of the musicians in the orchestra, and flew to the rescue, seizing one
of the assassins, and almost dragging him to the ground. It was with
difficulty removed, and dragged off the stage. The dog, which is the
property of the chief engineer of Her Majesty's ship Buffalo, has been
habitually accustomed to the society of children, for whom he has on
many occasions evinced strong proofs of affection.
Mr. Bewick, in his history of Quadrupeds, mentions some instances of
the sagacity and intellect of Newfoundland dogs; and it may not be
uninteresting to the admirers of that celebrated wood-engraver to be
informed, on the authority of his daughters, that the group on the
bridge in his print of the Newfoundland dog represents Mr. Preston, a
Printer of Newcastle, Mr. Vint, of Whittingham, Mr. Bell, House
Steward, and Mr. Bewick. Their initials, P. V. B. and B., are
introduced in the woodcut. The dog was drawn at Eslington, the seat of
Mr. Liddell, the eldest son of Lord Ravensworth.[N]
In Newfoundland, this dog is invaluable, and answers the purpose of a
horse. He is docile, capable of strong attachment, and is easy to
please in the quality of his food, as he will live on scraps of boiled
fish, either salted or fresh, and on boiled potatoes and cabbage. The
natural colour of this dog is black, with the exception of a very few
white spots. Their sagacity is sometimes so extraordinary, as on many
occasions to show that they only want the faculty of speech to make
themselves fully understood.
The Rev. L. Anspach, in his history of the Island of Newfoundland,
mentions some instances of this intelligence.
One of the Magistrates of Harbour-Grace, the late Mr. Garland, had an
old dog, which was in the habit of carrying a lantern before his
master at night, as steadily as the most attentive servant could do;
stopping short when his master made a stop, and proceeding when he saw
him disposed to follow him. If his master was absent from home, on the
lantern being fixed to his mouth, and the command given, "Go, fetch
your master," he would immediately set off and proceed directly to the
town, which lay at the distance of more than a mile from the place of
his master's residence. He would then stop at the door of every house
which he knew his master was in the habit of frequenting, and, laying
down his lantern, would growl and strike the door, making all the
noise in his power until it was opened. If his master was not there,
he would proceed further until he had found him. If he accompanied him
only once into a house, it was sufficient to induce him to take that
house in his round.
The principal use of this animal in Newfoundland, in addition to his
qualities as a good watch-dog and a faithful companion, is to assist
in fetching from the woods the _lumber_ intended either for repairing
the fish stages, or for fuel; and this is done by dragging it on the
snow or ice, or else on sledges, the dog being tackled to it.
These animals bark only when strongly provoked. They are not
quarrelsome, but treat the smaller species with a great degree of
patience and forbearance. They will defend their masters on seeing the
least appearance of an attack on his person. The well-known partiality
of these dogs for the water, in which they appear as if in their
proper element, diving and keeping their heads under the surface for a
considerable time, seems to give them some connexion with the class of
amphibious animals. At the same time, the several instances of their
superior sagacity, and the essential services which they have been
frequently known to render to humanity, give them a distinguished rank
in the scale of the brute creation. I will mention another instance of
this.
The Durham packet of Sunderland was, in 1815, wrecked near Clay, in
Norfolk. A faithful dog was employed to use his efforts to carry the
lead-line on shore from the vessel; but there being a very heavy sea,
and a deep beach, it appeared that the drawback of the surf was too
powerful for the animal to contend with. Mr. Parker, ship-builder, of
Wells, and Mr. Jackson, jun., of Clay, who were on the spot, observing
this, instantly rushed into the sea, which was running very high, and
gallantly succeeded, though at a great risk, in catching hold of the
dog, which was much exhausted, but which had all this time kept the
line in his mouth. The line being thus obtained, a communication with
the vessel was established; and a warp being passed from the ship to
the shore, the lives of all on board, nine in number, including two
children, were saved.
Some dogs are of an extremely jealous disposition; and the following
extraordinary instance of it was communicated to me by Mr. Charles
Davis, the well-known and highly-respected huntsman of Her Majesty's
stag-hounds, a man who has gained many friends, and perhaps never lost
one, by his well-regulated conduct and sporting qualifications.
He informed me that a friend of his had a fine Newfoundland dog, which
was a great favourite with the family. While this dog was confined in
the yard, a pet lamb was given to one of the children, which the
former soon discovered to be sharing a great portion of those caresses
which he had been in the habit of receiving. This circumstance
produced so great an effect on the poor animal, that he refused to
eat, and fretted till he became extremely unwell. Thinking that
exercise might be of use to him, he was let loose. No sooner was this
done, than the dog watched his opportunity, and seized the lamb in his
mouth. He was seen conveying it down a lane, about a quarter of a mile
from his master's house, at the bottom of which the river Thames
flowed. On arriving at it, he held the lamb under water till it was
drowned, and thus effectually got rid of his rival. On examining the
lamb, it did not appear to have been bitten, or otherwise injured; and
it might almost be supposed that the dog had chosen the easiest death
in removing the object of his dislike.
The sense of these animals is, indeed, perfectly wonderful. A
lieutenant in the navy informed me, that while his ship was under sail
in the Mediterranean, a favourite canary bird escaped from its cage,
and flew into the sea. A Newfoundland dog on board witnessed the
circumstance, immediately jumped into the sea, and swam to the bird,
which he seized in his mouth, and then swam back with it to the ship.
On arriving on board and opening the dog's mouth, it was found that
the bird was perfectly uninjured, so tenderly had it been treated, as
though the dog had been aware that the slightest pressure would have
destroyed it.
Mr. Youatt, whose remarks on the usefulness and good qualities of the
inferior animals, in his work on Humanity to Brutes, do him so much
credit, gives the following anecdote as a proof of the reasoning power
of a Newfoundland dog.
Wanting one day to go through a tall iron gate, from one part of his
premises to another, he found a lame puppy lying just within it, so
that he could not get in without rolling the poor animal over, and
perhaps injuring it. Mr. Youatt stood for awhile hesitating what to
do, and at length determined to go round through another gate. A fine
Newfoundland dog, however, who had been waiting patiently for his
wonted caresses, and perhaps wondering why his master did not get in
as usual, looked accidentally down at his lame companion. He
comprehended the whole business in a moment--put down his great paw,
and as gently and quickly as possible rolled the invalid out of the
way, and then drew himself back in order to leave room for the opening
of the gate.
We may be inclined to deny reasoning faculties to dogs; but if this
was not reason, it may be difficult to define what else it could be.
Mr. Youatt also says, that his own experience furnishes him with an
instance of the memory and gratitude of a Newfoundland dog, who was
greatly attached to him. He says, as it became inconvenient to him to
keep the dog, he gave him to one who he knew would treat him kindly.
Four years passed, and he had not seen him; when one day, as he was
walking towards Kingston, and had arrived at the brow of the hill
where Jerry Abershaw's gibbet then stood, he met Carlo and his master.
The dog recollected Mr. Youatt in a moment, and they made much of each
other. His master, after a little chat, proceeded towards Wandsworth,
and Carlo, as in duty bound, followed him. Mr. Youatt had not,
however, got half-way down the hill when the dog was again at his
side, lowly but deeply growling, and every hair bristling. On looking
about, he saw two ill-looking fellows making their way through the
bushes, which occupied the angular space between Roehampton and
Wandsworth roads. Their intention was scarcely questionable, and,
indeed, a week or two before, he had narrowly escaped from two
miscreants like them. "I can scarcely say," proceeds Mr. Youatt, "what
I felt; for presently one of the scoundrels emerged from the bushes,
not twenty yards from me; but he no sooner saw my companion, and heard
his growling, the loudness and depth of which were fearfully
increasing, than he retreated, and I saw no more of him or of his
associate. My gallant defender accompanied me to the direction-post at
the bottom of the hill, and there, with many a mutual and honest
greeting, we parted, and he bounded away to overtake his rightful
owner. We never met again; but I need not say that I often thought of
him with admiration and gratitude."
It is pleasing to record such instances of kindness in a brute. Here
we see a recollection of, and gratitude for, previous good treatment,
and that towards one whom the dog had not seen for four years. There
is a sort of bewilderment in the human mind, when we come to analyse
the feelings, affections, and peculiar instinctive faculties of dogs.
A French writer (Mons. Blaze) has asserted, that the dog most
undoubtedly has all the qualities of a man possessed of good feeling,
and adds that man has not the fine qualities of the dog. We make a
virtue of that gratitude which is nothing more than a duty incumbent
upon us, while it is an inherent quality in the dog.
"Canis gratus est, et amicitiae memor."
We repudiate ingratitude, and yet every one is more or less guilty of
it. Indeed, where shall we find the man who is free from it? Take,
however, the first dog you meet with, and the moment he has adopted
you for his master, from that moment you are sure of his gratitude
and affection. He will love you without calculating what he shall gain
by it--his greatest pleasure will be to be near you--and should you be
reduced to beg your bread, no poverty will induce him to abandon you.
Your friends may, and probably will, do so--the object of your love
and attachment will not, perhaps, like to encounter poverty with you.
Your wife, by some possibility (it is a rare case, however, if she has
received kind treatment) may forget her vows, but your dog will never
leave you--he will either die at your feet, or if he should survive
you, will accompany you to the grave.
An intelligent correspondent, to whom I am indebted for some sensible
remarks on the faculties of dogs, has remarked that large-headed dogs
are generally possessed of superior faculties to others. This fact
favours the phrenological opinion that size of brain is evidence of
superior power. He has a dog possessing a remarkably large head, and
few dogs can match him in intelligence. He is a cross with the
Newfoundland breed, and besides his cleverness in the field as a
retriever, he shows his sagacity at home in the performance of several
useful feats. One consists in carrying messages. If a neighbour is to
be communicated with, the dog is always ready to be the bearer of a
letter. He will take orders to the workmen who reside at a short
distance from the house, and will scratch impatiently at their door
when so employed, although at other times, desirous of sharing the
warmth of their kitchen fire, he would wait patiently, and then
entering with a seriousness befitting the imagined importance of his
mission, would carefully deliver the note, never returning without
having discharged his trust. His usefulness in recovering articles
accidentally lost has often been proved. As he is not always allowed
to be present at dinner, he will bring a hat, book, or anything he can
find, and hold it in his mouth as a sort of apology for his intrusion.
He seems pleased at being allowed to lead his master's horse to the
stable.
Newfoundland dogs may readily be taught to rescue drowning persons. In
France, this forms a part of their education, and they are now kept in
readiness on the banks of the Seine, where they form a sort of Humane
Society Corps. By throwing the stuffed figure of a man into a river,
and requiring the dog to fetch it out, he is soon taught to do so when
necessary, and thus he is able to rescue drowning persons. This hint
might not be thrown away on our own excellent Humane Society.
Many dogs are called of the Newfoundland breed who have but small
relationship with that sensible animal. The St. John's and Labrador
dogs are also very different from each other. The former is strong in
his limbs, rough-haired, small in the head, and carries his tail very
high. The other, by far the best for every kind of shooting, is
oftener black than of another colour, and scarcely bigger than a
pointer. He is made rather long in the head and nose, pretty deep in
the chest, very fine in the legs, has short or smooth hair, does not
carry his tail so much curled as the other, and is extremely quick and
active in running, swimming, or fighting. The St. John's breed of
these dogs is chiefly used on their native coast by fishermen. Their
sense of smelling is scarcely to be credited. Their discrimination of
scent, in following a wounded pheasant through a whole covert full of
game, appears almost impossible.
The real Newfoundland dog may be broken into any kind of shooting,
and, without additional instruction, is generally under such command,
that he may be safely kept in, if required to be taken out with
pointers. For finding wounded game of every description there is not
his equal in the canine race, and he is a _sine qua non_ in the
general pursuit of wildfowl. These dogs should be treated gently, and
much encouraged when required to do anything, as their faults are
easily checked. If used roughly, they are apt to turn sulky. They will
also recollect and avenge an injury. A traveller on horseback, in
passing through a small village in Cumberland, observed a Newfoundland
dog reposing by the side of the road, and from mere wantonness gave
him a blow with his whip. The animal made a violent rush at and
pursued him a considerable distance. Having to proceed through the
same place the next journey, which was about twelve months afterwards,
and while in the act of leading his horse, the dog, no doubt
recollecting his former assailant, instantly seized him by the boot,
and bit his leg. Some persons, however, coming up, rescued him from
further injury.
A gamekeeper had a Newfoundland dog which he used as a retriever.
Shooting in a wood one day, he killed a pheasant, which fell at some
distance, and he sent his dog for it. When half way to the bird, he
suddenly returned, refusing to go beyond the place at which he had
first stopped. This being an unusual circumstance, the man endeavoured
more and more to enforce his command; which being unable to effect,
either by words or his whip, he at last, in a great passion, gave the
dog a violent kick in the ribs, which laid it dead at his feet. He
then proceeded to pick up the bird, and on returning from the spot,
discovered a man concealed in the thicket. He immediately seized him,
and upon examination, several snares were found on his person. This
may be a useful hint to those who are apt to take violent measures
with their dogs.
A gentleman who had a country house near London, discovered on
arriving at it one day that he had brought away a key, which would be
wanted by his family in town. Having an intelligent Newfoundland dog,
which had been accustomed to carry things, he sent him back with it.
While passing with the key, the animal was attacked by a butcher's
dog, against which he made no resistance, but got away from him. After
safely delivering the key, he returned to rejoin his master, but
stopped in the way at the butcher's shop, whose dog again sallied
forth. The Newfoundland this time attacked him with a fury, which
nothing but revenge could have inspired, nor did he quit the aggressor
till he had killed him.
The following fact affords another proof of the extraordinary sagacity
of these dogs.
A Newfoundland dog of the true breed was brought from that country,
and given to a gentleman who resided near Thames Street, in London. As
he had no means of keeping the animal, except in close confinement, he
sent him to a friend in Scotland by a Berwick smack. When he arrived
in Scotland he took the first opportunity of escaping, and though he
certainly had never before travelled one yard of the road, he found
his way back to his former residence on Fishstreet Hill; but in so
exhausted a state, that he could only express his joy at seeing his
master, and then died.
So wonderful is the sense of these dogs, that I have heard of three
instances in which they have voluntarily guarded the bed-chamber doors
of their mistresses, during the whole night, in the absence of their
masters, although on no other occasion did they approach them.
The Romans appear to have had a dog, which seems to have been very
similar in character to our Newfoundland. In the Museum at Naples
there is an antique bronze, discovered amongst the ruins of
Herculaneum, which represents two large dogs dragging from the sea
some apparently drowned persons.
The following interesting fact affords another instance of the
sagacity and good feeling of the Newfoundland dog:--
In the year 1841, as a labourer, named Rake, in the parish of Botley,
near Southampton, was at work in a gravel-pit, the top stratum gave
way, and he was buried up to his neck by the great quantity of gravel
which fell upon him. He was at the same time so much hurt, two of his
ribs being broken, that he found it impossible to make any attempt to
extricate himself from his perilous situation. Indeed, nothing could
be more fearful than the prospect before him. No one was within
hearing of his cries, nor was any one likely to come near the spot. He
must almost inevitably have perished, had it not been for a
Newfoundland dog belonging to his employer. This animal had been
watching the man at his work for some days, as if he had been aware
that his assistance would be required; for no particular attachment to
each other had been exhibited on either side. As soon, however, as the
accident occurred, the dog jumped into the pit, and commenced removing
the gravel with his paws; and this he did in so vigorous and
expeditious a manner, that the poor man was at length able to liberate
himself, though with extreme difficulty. What an example of kindness,
sensibility, and I may add reason, does this instance afford us!
A gentleman in Ireland had a remarkably fine and intelligent
Newfoundland dog, named Boatswain, whose acts were the constant theme
of admiration. On one occasion, an aged lady who resided in the house,
and the mother-in-law of the owner of the dog, was indisposed and
confined to her bed. The old lady was tired of chickens and other
productions of the farmyard, and a consultation was held in her room
as to what could be procured to please her fancy for dinner. Various
things were mentioned and declined, in the midst of which Boatswain,
who was greatly attached to the old lady, entered her room with a fine
young rabbit in his mouth, which he laid at the foot of the bed,
wagging his tail with great exultation. It is not meant to infer that
the dog knew anything of the difficulty of finding a dinner to the
lady's taste, but seeing her distressed in mind and body, it is not
improbable that he had brought his offering in the hopes of pleasing
her.
On another occasion, his master found this dog early one summer's
morning keeping watch over an unfortunate countryman, who was standing
with his back to a wall in the rear of the premises, pale with terror.
He was a simple, honest creature, living in the neighbourhood. Having
to attend some fair or market, about four o'clock in the morning, he
made a short cut through the grounds, which were under the protection
of Boatswain, who drove the intruder to the wall, and kept him there,
showing his teeth, and giving a growl whenever he offered to stir
from the spot. In this way he was kept a prisoner till the owner of
the faithful animal released him.
There was a Newfoundland dog on board H. M. S. Bellona, which kept the
deck during the battle of Copenhagen, running backward and forward
with so brave an anger, that he became a greater favourite with the
men than ever. When the ship was paid off, after the peace of Amiens,
the sailors had a parting dinner on shore. Victor was placed in the
chair, and fed with roast beef and plum-pudding, and the bill was made
out in Victor's name. This anecdote is taken from Southey's "Omniana."