"My pug makes a bad pet; he is useless in the field, is somewhat
snappish, has little sagacity, and is very cowardly: but there is
an air of _bon ton_ about him which renders him a fashionable
appendage to a fine lady."--_Parisian Gossip._
Pugs came into fashion, and probably first into this country, in the
early part of the reign of William the Third, and were then called
Dutch pugs. At that time they were generally decorated with orange
ribbons, and were in great request amongst the courtiers, from the
king being very partial to them.
It is difficult to say how this partiality arose, though it may
perhaps be accounted for by the following anecdote, related in a
scarce old book, called "Sir Roger Williams' Actions in the Low
Countries," printed in 1618.
"The Prince of Orange (father of William III.) being retired into the
camp, Julian Romero, with earnest persuasions, procured license of the
Duke D'Alva to hazard a _camisado_, or night attack, upon the prince.
At midnight Julian sallied out of the trenches with a thousand armed
men, mostly pikes, who forced all the guards that they found in their
way into the place of arms before the Prince's tent, and killed two of
his secretaries. The Prince himself escaped very narrowly, for I have
often heard him say that he thought but for a dog he should have been
taken or slain. The attack was made with such resolution, that the
guards took no alarm until their fellows were running to the place of
arms, with their enemies at their heels, when this dog, hearing a
great noise, fell to scratching and crying, and awakened him before
any of his men; and though the Prince slept armed, with a lacquey
always holding one of his horses ready bridled and saddled, yet, at
the going out of his tent, with much ado he recovered his horse before
the enemy arrived. Nevertheless, one of his equerries was slain
taking horse presently after him, as were divers of his servants. The
Prince, to show his gratitude, until his dying day kept one of that
dog's race, and so did many of his friends and followers. These
animals were not remarkable for their beauty, being little white dogs,
with crooked noses, called _Camuses_ (flat-nosed)."
It is difficult to account for the origin of this breed of dogs. So
far from having any of the courage of the bulldog, which they resemble
somewhat in miniature, they are extremely cowardly. They are also
occasionally treacherous in their disposition, and will take strong
dislikes to particular persons.
The passion of the late Lady Penrhyn for pugs was well known. Two of
these, a mother and daughter, were in the eating-room of Penrhyn
Castle during the morning call of a lady, who partook of luncheon. On
bonnets and shawls being ordered for the purpose of taking a walk in
the grounds, the oldest dog jumped on a chair, and looked first at a
cold fowl, and then at her daughter. The lady remarked to Lady Penrhyn
that they certainly had a design on the tray. The bell was therefore
rung, and a servant ordered to take it away. The instant the tray
disappeared, the elder pug, who had previously played the agreeable
with all her might to the visitor, snarled and flew at her, and during
the whole walk followed her, growling and snapping at her heels
whenever opportunity served. The dog certainly went through two or
three links of inference, from the disappearance of the coveted spoil
to Lady Penrhyn's order, and from Lady Penrhyn's order to the remark
made by her visitor.
Monsieur Blaze, in his "History of Dogs," mentions one who was taught
to pronounce several words. The editor of the "Dumfries Courier" has
declared most solemnly that he "heard a pug repeatedly pronounce the
word 'William,' almost as distinctly as ever it was enunciated by the
human voice. He saw the dog lying on a rug before the fire, when one
of his master's sons, whose name is William, and to whom he is more
obedient than to any one else, happened to give him a shove, when the
animal ejaculated, for the first time, the word 'William.' The whole
party were as much amazed as Balsam was when his ass spoke; and though
they could hardly believe their own ears, one of them exclaimed,
'Could you really find it in your heart to hurt the poor dog after he
has so distinctly pronounced your name?' This led to a series of
experiments, which have been repeated for the satisfaction of various
persons, but still the animal performs with difficulty. When his
master seizes his fore-legs, and commands him to say 'William,' he
treats the hearer With a gurring voluntary; and after this species of
music has been protracted for a longer or a shorter period, his voice
seems to fall a full octave before he comes out with the important
word."
In the "Bibliotheque Germanique," published in 1720, there is an
account of a dog at Berlin, who was made to pronounce a few words, but
the one which he ejaculated most distinctly was "Elizabeth." Sir
William Gell also had a dog which was well known to repeat some words,
but it should be mentioned that he never did this except his master
held his jaws in a peculiar way.[R]
It has been said of the pug dog that he is applicable to no sport,
appropriated to no useful purpose, susceptible of no predominant
passion, and in no way remarkable for any pre-eminent quality. He
seems, indeed, intended to be the patient follower of a ruminating
philosopher, or the adulatory and consolatory companion of an old
maid; but is now gradually becoming discarded as a pet, and is seldom
seen peeping out of a carriage window or basking in a London balcony.
The Comforter, of which a portrait is given at the head of the present
chapter, is a rare and beautiful little dog, apparently a cross
between the Maltese and King Charles spaniel. His colour is generally
white, with black or brown patches; his ears are long, and his head
broad on the upper part, with an acute muzzle; the hair is long over
the whole body, with the fore legs feathered; his tail is curled, and
feathered with very long hairs. This is the smallest of any of the
distinct races of dogs, and is frequently not above a foot from the
tip of the nose to the point of the tail.
[Illustration: "A PUGNACIOUS PAIR."]