The old English setter (says Capt. Brown), was originally derived from
a cross between the Spanish pointer and the large water-spaniel, and
was justly celebrated for his fine scent. It is difficult now to say
what a setter really is, as the original breed has been crossed with
springers, stag and blood-hounds. The Irish breed of setters is
considered better than either the English or Scotch, and a fine brace
has been frequently known to fetch fifty guineas. Youatt says that the
setter is evidently the large spaniel improved in size and beauty, and
taught to mark his game by setting or crouching. He is more active
than the pointer, but has not so much patient steadiness. It is
extremely difficult to decide between the merits of the setter and
pointer as dogs for shooting over. Some authors prefer one, some the
other. "Craven" says, that in his opinion Russian setters are better
than English, in nose, sagacity, and every other qualification that a
dog ought to possess.
Col. Hutchinson relates that he was "partridge-shooting the season
before last with an intimate friend. The air was soft, and there was a
good breeze. We came upon a large turnip-field, deeply trenched on
account of its damp situation. A white setter, that habitually carried
a lofty head, drew for awhile, and then came to a point. We got up to
her. She led us across some ridges, when her companion, a jealous dog
(a pointer), which had at first backed correctly, most improperly
pushed on in front, but, not being able to acknowledge the scent, went
off, clearly imagining the bitch was in error. She, however, held on,
and in beautiful style brought us up direct to a covey. My friend and
I agreed that she must have been but little, if at all, less than one
hundred yards off when she first winded the birds; and it was clear to
us that they could not have been running, for the breeze came directly
across the furrows, and she had led us in the wind's eye. We thought
the point the more remarkable, as it is generally supposed that the
strong smell of turnips diminishes a dog's power of scenting birds."
The same able author says, that on one occasion when a near relation
of his was shooting on the banks of the Forth, he killed a partridge
that was flying across the river. As he had no retriever with him, he
almost regretted having fired; but, to his surprise, his setter, Dove,
jumped into the river, although she had never previously (to the
writer's knowledge), attempted to swim, seized it, and deposited it
safely on the bank. She never had retrieved before, and was not
particularly good at "seeking dead."
"During my residence in the country," says M. Huet, "I had a
gamekeeper who was very skilful in the art of training dogs. Among
others of various kinds which he trained was a large old English
setter, with which he had succeeded so well that he could use him both
for hunting and shooting.
"This dog did always as much as could be done by any of his race, in
whatever kind of sport he was employed; he even invented advantageous
manoeuvres himself, which the gamekeeper affirmed he had never taught
him.
"Once, after I had been already several hours returned from hunting
with my people, the dog came running across the yard with a hare upon
his back, which he held by the ear, so as to carry her in the most
convenient manner to the kitchen from the considerable distance where
he must have killed her.
"Upon another occasion he showed an extraordinary degree of judgment
and fidelity. The gamekeeper had, on one of the short days of
December, shot at and wounded a deer. Hoping to run him down before
night, he instantly put the dog upon the track, which followed it at
full speed, and soon was out of sight. At length it grew dark, and the
gamekeeper returned home, thinking he should find the setter arrived
there before him; but he was disappointed, and became apprehensive
that his dog might have lost himself, or fallen a prey to some
ravenous animal. The next morning, however, we were all greatly
rejoiced to see him come running into the yard, whence he directly
hastened to the door of my apartment, and, on being admitted, ran,
with gestures expressive of solicitude and eagerness, to a corner of
the room where guns were placed. We understood the hint, and, taking
the guns, followed him. He led us not by the road which he himself had
taken out of the wood, but by beaten paths half round it, and then by
several wood-cutters' tracks in different directions, to a thicket,
where, following him a few paces, we found the deer which he had
killed. The dog seems to have rightly judged that we should have been
obliged to make our way with much difficulty through almost the whole
length of the wood, in order to come to the deer in a straight
direction, and he therefore led us a circuitous but open and
convenient road. Between the legs of the deer, which he had guarded
during the night against the beasts of prey that might otherwise have
seized upon it, he had scratched a hole in the snow, and filled it
with dry leaves for his bed. The extraordinary sagacity which he had
displayed upon this occasion rendered him doubly valuable to us, and
it therefore caused us very serious regret when, in the ensuing
summer, the poor animal went mad, possibly in consequence of his
exposure to the severe frost of that night, and it became necessary
for the gamekeeper to shoot him, which he could not do without
shedding tears. He said he would willingly have given his best cow to
save him; and I confess myself that I would not have hesitated to part
with my best horse upon the same terms."
Mr. Torry, of Edinburgh, had a setter bitch which possessed great
powers, and especially in finding lost articles, as she would,
whenever she was desired, go in search of anything. On one occasion
his servant lost a favourite whip in the middle of a moor, and he did
not discover or make known this loss till they were about a mile
distant from the spot where it was dropped. Mr. Torry ordered the
servant to go back and bring it, as he stated he was quite certain of
the spot where he had dropped it; but after searching for nearly an
hour, the servant returned and said he could not recover it, upon
which Mr. Torry told his setter to go back for the whip. She started
off instantly, and in less than five minutes the lost article was at
his feet.
The same dog did a great many other curious things: she would ring the
bell, fetch her master's slippers, or bring his youngest son, when
required to do so, from another room; which last she effected by
taking hold of his pinafore with her mouth, and running before him
sideways to his master's chair.
A large setter, ill with the distemper, had been most tenderly nursed
by a lady for three weeks. At length he became so weak as to be placed
on a bed, where he remained three days in a dying situation. After a
short absence, the lady, on re-entering the room, observed him to fix
his eyes attentively on her, and make an effort to crawl across the
bed towards her. This he accomplished evidently for the sole purpose
of licking her hands, which, having done, he expired without a groan.
"I am," says Mr. Blaine, "as convinced that the animal was sensible of
his approaching dissolution, and that this was a last forcible effort
to express his gratitude for the care taken of him, as I am of my own
existence; and had I witnessed this proof of excellence alone, I
should think a life devoted to the amelioration of the condition of
dogs far too little for their deserts."
There is a curious and interesting anecdote related of a setter who
had formed a great friendship with a cat. They were, in fact,
inseparable companions, and evidently had a great love for each other.
As a sporting dog the setter had few equals, but he constantly showed
his disgust when obliged to accompany a bad shot into the fields.
After one of the shooting seasons was over, his master took a house in
London, and carried his setter with him, who was seated with the
footman on the box of the carriage. It appears that the dog had not
forgotten his favourite, the cat, for he disappeared from the house,
and was absent for some days. He at length returned to his master's
house in the country, and brought back the cat with him. How he
contrived to find his way backwards and forward, and how he persuaded
the cat to accompany him, are mysteries which it would be useless to
attempt to solve. The fact, however, would seem to be satisfactorily
vouched for.
Setters are known to be subject to strange freaks. A gentleman had one
which he had shot to for three years. Upon one occasion he took the
dog out, and fired seven or eight times at birds the dog had found
him; but having missed them all, the animal returned home, evidently
disgusted. In the evening his owner took him out again and killed
every shot, which procured a reconciliation between the dog and its
master.
The late Dr. Hugh Smith related the following circumstance of a setter
dog, and maintained that a bitch and a dog may fall passionately in
love with each other. As the doctor was travelling from Midhurst into
Hampshire, the dogs, as usual in country places, ran out barking as he
was passing through a village; and amongst them he observed a little
ugly mongrel, that was particularly eager to ingratiate himself with a
setter bitch that accompanied him. Whilst stopping to water his horse,
he remarked how amorous the mongrel continued, and how courteous the
setter seemed to her admirer. Provoked to see a creature of Dido's
high blood so obsequious to such mean addresses, the doctor drew one
of his pistols and shot the dog; he then had the bitch carried on
horseback for several miles. From that day, however, she lost her
appetite, ate little or nothing, had no inclination to go abroad with
her master, or attend to his call, but seemed to repine like a
creature in love, and express sensible concern for the loss of her
gallant. Partridge season came, but Dido had no nose. Some time after
she was coupled to a setter of great excellence, which with no small
difficulty had been procured to get a breed from, and all the caution
which even the doctor himself could take was strictly exerted, that
the whelps might be pure and unmixed; yet not a puppy did Dido bring
forth but what was the picture and colour of the mongrel that he had
so many months before destroyed. The doctor fumed, and, had he not
personally paid such attention to preserve the intercourse
uncontaminated, would have suspected that some negligence had
occasioned this disappointment; but his views were in many subsequent
litters also defeated, for Dido never produced a whelp which was not
exactly similar to the unfortunate dog which was her first and
murdered lover.
This anecdote may appear strange or untrue to some people; but it is
an undoubted fact, and in some degree corroborates Dr. Smith's account
that the late Sir Gore Ouseley had a Persian mare which produced her
first foal by a zebra in Scotland. She was afterwards a brood-mare in
England, and had several foals, every one of which had the zebra's
stripes on it. That the force of imagination influences some brutes
cannot be doubted. A gentleman had a small spaniel which had one of
her legs broken when pregnant. When she littered, one of the whelps
had one of her hind legs broken--the limb was contracted--a perfect
callus formed, in everything resembling the leg of the dam.
Setters are difficult to break; but when well broken are invaluable as
sporting dogs, for they will work all day if they can occasionally
find water. John Dudley, duke of Northumberland, is said to have been
the first that broke a setter dog to the net, about the year 1555.
Col. Hutchinson says that a French lady, who is fond of animals, at
his request committed the following anecdote to paper:--
"My dear Medor, a beautiful red-and-white setter, was remarkable, I am
told, for many rare qualities as a sporting dog; but, of course, none
of these could be compared, in _my_ eyes, to his faithfulness and
sagacity. I looked upon him as a friend; and I know that our affection
was mutual. I could mention several instances of his intelligence--I
might say, reflection; but one in particular gave me such delight
that, though years have since passed away, all the circumstances are
as fresh in my memory as if they had occurred but yesterday. I was
returning from school at Versailles; and having rang uselessly for a
little time at the front door, I went round to the carriage-gate to
have a chat with my silky-haired favourite. He barked anxiously,
thrust his cold nose through an opening near the ground, scratched
vigorously to increase its size, and in numerous ways testified great
joy at again hearing my voice. I put my hand under the gate to caress
him; and while he was licking it, I said in jest, but in a distinct,
loud voice, 'Dear Medor, I am shut out--go, bring me the keys.' It so
happened that the stable where they usually hung was not closed. Medor
ran off, and in a few seconds returned and placed them in my hands. I
will not attempt to describe _my_ gratification at such a striking
proof of his intelligence, nor _his_ evident pride at seeing me enter
the hall, nor yet the fright of the servant at thinking how long the
street-door must have been carelessly left open. 'Medor deserves that
his life should be written,' said I to my uncle, when afterwards
telling him the whole story; 'I am sure his deeds are as wonderful as
those related of the 'Chiens celebres' by De Freville.'
"My setter was immediately declared 'Keeper of the Keys,' and
forthwith invested with all the rights of office. Nor was this
confidence misplaced. He would never give up his charge to any one but
to my uncle or myself; and always seemed fully sensible of the dignity
and responsibility of his new position."
Tolfrey gives, in his "Sportsman in France," so beautiful an instance
of a setter's untutored intelligence leading him to see the advantage
of placing running birds between himself and the gun, that I will
relate it.
"On gaining some high ground, the dog drew and stood. She was walked
up to, but to my astonishment we found no birds. She was encouraged,
and with great difficulty coaxed off her point. She kept drawing on,
but with the same ill success.
"I must confess I was for the moment sorely puzzled; but knowing the
excellence of the animal, I let her alone. She kept drawing on for
nearly a hundred yards--still no birds. At last, of her own accord,
and with a degree of instinct amounting almost to the faculty of
reason, she broke from her point, and dashing off to the right made a
_detour_, and was presently straight before me, some three hundred
yards off, setting the game whatever it might be, as much as to say,
'I'll be ---- if you escape me this time.' We walked steadily on; and
when within about thirty yards of her, up got a covey of red-legged
partridges, and we had the good fortune to kill a brace each.
"It is one of the characteristics of these birds to run for an amazing
distance before they take wing; but the sagacity of my faithful dog
baffled all their efforts to escape. We fell in with several coveys of
these birds during the day, and my dog ever after gave them the
double, and kept them between the gun and herself."
[Illustration]
[Illustration: THE COMFORTER, OR LAP-DOG PUG.]