were objected to by a farmer. Highly enraged, "Sir," says he to the
farmer, "do you know, sir, that I have been at the two universities, and
at two colleges in each university?"--"Well, sir," said the farmer,
"what of that? I had a calf that sucked two cows, and the observation I
made was, the more he sucked, the greater _calf_ he grew."[270]
RATHER TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING.--VEAL _ad nauseam_.
At the table of Lord Polkemmet, when the covers were removed, the
dinner was seen to consist of veal broth, a roast fillet of veal, veal
cutlets, a florentine (an excellent Scotch dish, composed of veal), a
calf's head, calf's foot jelly. The worthy judge observing an expression
of surprise among his guests, who, even in Shetland in early spring
would have had the veal varied with fish, broke out in explanation, "Ou,
ay, it's a cauf! when we kill a beast, we just eat up one side, and down
the tither."
* * * * *
Boswell, the friend and biographer of Johnson, when a young man, went to
the pit of Covent Garden Theatre, in company with Dr Blair, and in a
frolic imitated the lowing of a cow; and the universal cry in the
gallery was, "Encore the cow! encore the cow!" This was complied with,
and in the pride of success, Boswell attempted to imitate some other
animals, but with less success. Dr Blair, anxious for the fame of his
friend, addressed him thus, "My dear sir, I would confine myself to _the
cow_."[271]
ADAM CLARKE AND HIS BULLOCK PAT.
The Rev. Adam Clarke, LL.D., after one of his evangelical visits to
Ireland, returned to his home at Millbrook. In writing to his sons he
says--"Not only your mother, sisters, and brother, were glad to see me,
but also my poor animals in the field, for I lost no time in going to
visit them. I found the donkey lame, and her son looking much like a
philosopher; it was strange that even the _bullock_, whom we call _Pat_,
came to me in the field, and held out his most honest face for me to
stroke it. The next time I went to him he came running up, and actually
placed his two fore-feet upon my shoulders, with all the affection of a
spaniel; but it was a load of kindness I could ill bear, for the animal
is nearly three years old; I soon got his feet displaced; strange and
uncouth as this manifestation of affectionate gratitude was, yet with it
the master and his _steer Pat_ were equally well pleased; so here is a
literal comment on 'The ox knoweth his owner;' and you see I am in
league with even the beasts of the field."[272]
SAMUEL FOOTE AND THE COWS PULLING THE BELL OF WORCESTER COLLEGE CHAPEL.
Samuel Foote was a student at Worcester College, Oxford, and when there
he practised many tricks, and soon found out what was ridiculous in any
man's character.
His biographer[273] records one of these tricks which he played off on
Dr Gower, the provost of the college. "The church belonging to the
college fronted the side of a lane where cattle were sometimes turned
out to graze during the night, and from the steeple hung the bell rope,
very low in the middle of the outside porch. Foote saw in this an object
likely to produce some fun, and immediately set about to accomplish his
purpose. He accordingly one night slyly tied a wisp of hay to the rope,
as a bait for the cows in their peregrination to the grazing ground.
The scheme succeeded to his wish. One of the cows soon after smelling
the hay as she passed by the church door, instantly seized on it, and,
by tugging at the rope, made the bell ring, to the astonishment of the
sexton and the whole parish.
"This happened several nights successively, and the incident gave rise
to various reports, such as not only that the church was haunted by evil
spirits, but that several spectres were seen walking about the
churchyard in all those hideous and frightful shapes which fear,
ignorance, and fancy usually suggest on such occasions.
"An event of this kind, however, was to be explored, for the honour of
philosophy, as well as for the quiet of the parish. Accordingly the
doctor and the sexton agreed to sit up one night, and on the first alarm
to run out and drag the culprit to condign punishment. Their plan being
arranged, they waited with the utmost impatience for the appointed
signal; at last the bell began to sound its usual alarm, and they both
sallied out in the dark, determined on making a discovery. The sexton
was the first in the attack. He seized the cow by the tail, and cried
out, 'It was a gentleman commoner, as he had him by the tail of his
gown;' while the doctor, who had caught the cow by the horns at the same
time, immediately replied, 'No, no, you blockhead, 'tis the postman, and
here I have hold of the rascal by his blowing-horn.' Lights, however,
were immediately brought, when the character of the real offender was
discovered, and the laugh of the whole town was turned upon the
doctor."
THE GENERAL'S COW.
At Plymouth there is, or was, a small green opposite the Government
House, over which no one was permitted to pass. Not a creature was
allowed to approach save the general's cow. One day old Lady D----
having called at the general's, in order to make a short cut, bent her
steps across the lawn, when she was arrested by the sentry calling out
and desiring her to return. "But," said Lady D----, with a stately air,
"do you know who I am?"--"I don't know who you be, ma'am," replied the
immovable sentry, "but I knows you b'aint--you b'aint the _general's
cow_." So Lady D---- wisely gave up the argument and went the other
way.[274]
GILPIN'S LOVE OF THE PICTURESQUE CARRIED OUT.--A REASON FOR KEEPING
THREE COWS.
Lord Sidmouth told the Rev. C. Smith Bird that he was partly educated at
Cheam, by Mr Gilpin, the author of many volumes on "Picturesque
Scenery." He was but a poor scholar, but seems to have been loved by his
pupils. He _carried out_ his regard for the picturesque, as would appear
by the following anecdote[275]--
"In visiting the Rev. Mr Gilpin at his house in the New Forest on one
occasion, his lordship observed three cows feeding in a small paddock,
which he knew to be all that Mr Gilpin had to feed them in. He asked Mr
Gilpin how he came to have so many cows when he had so little land? 'The
truth is,' said he, 'I found one cow would not do--she went
dry.'--'Well,' said Lord Sidmouth, 'but why not be content with another?
Two, by good management, might be made to supply you constantly with
milk.'--'Oh, yes,' said the old gentleman, '_but two would not group_.'"
KING JAMES ON A COW GETTING OVER THE BORDER.
In the "Life of Bernard Gilpin," his biographer refers to the
inhabitants of the Borders being such great adepts in the art of
thieving, that they could twist a cow's horn, or mark a horse, so as its
owners could not know it, and so subtle that no vigilance could watch
against them. A person telling King James a surprising story of a cow
that had been driven from the north of Scotland into the south of
England, and escaping from the herd had found her way home; "The most
surprising part of the story," the king replied, "you lay least stress
on--that she passed unstolen through the debateable land."[276]
DUKE OF MONTAGUE AND HIS HOSPITAL FOR OLD COWS AND HORSES.
The Rev. Joseph Spence[277] records that "the Duke of Montague has an
hospital for old cows and horses; none of his tenants near Boughton
dare kill a broken-winded horse; they must bring them all to the
_reservoir_. The duke keeps a lap-dog, the ugliest creature he could
meet with; he is always fond of the most hideous, and says he was at
first kind to them, because nobody else would be."
PHILIP IV. OF SPAIN IN THE BULL-RING.
This king, whose form and features are so well known from the pictures
of Velasquez, was entertained magnificently by his great favourite
Olivares, in 1631. At this festival, which was in honour of the birthday
of the heir apparent, the sports of ancient Rome were renewed in the
bull-ring of Spain. In his life by Mr Stirling,[278] it is recorded that
"a lion, a tiger, a bear, a camel--in fact, a specimen of every
procurable wild animal, or, as Quevedo expressed it in a poetical
account of the spectacle, 'the whole ark of Noah, and all the fables of
AEsop,' were turned loose into the spacious Plaza del Parque, to fight
for the mastery of the arena. To the great delight of his Castilian
countrymen, a bull of Xarama vanquished all his antagonists. The 'bull
of Marathon, which ravaged the country of Tetrapolis,' says the
historian of the day, 'was not more valiant; nor did Theseus, who slew
and sacrificed him, gain greater glory than did our most potent
sovereign. Unwilling that a beast which had behaved so bravely should go
unrewarded, his majesty determined to do him the greatest favour that
the animal himself could have possibly desired, had he been gifted with
reason--to wit, to slay him with his own royal hand! Calling for his
fowling-piece, he brought it instantly to his shoulder, and the flash
and report were scarcely seen and heard ere the mighty monster lay a
bleeding corpse before the transported lieges. Yet not a moment,'
continues the chronicler, 'did his majesty lose his wonted serenity, his
composure of countenance, and becoming gravity of aspect; and but for
the presence of so great a concourse of witnesses, it was difficult to
believe that he had really fired the noble and successful shot.'"
SYDNEY SMITH AND HIS CATTLE.--HIS "UNIVERSAL SCRATCHER."
The Rev. Sydney Smith, when at Foston, used to call for his hat and
stick immediately after dinner, and sallied forth for his evening
stroll. His daughter,[279] who often accompanied him, remarks--"Each cow
and calf, and horse and pig, were in turn visited, and fed, and patted,
and all seemed to welcome him; he cared for their comforts as he cared
for the comforts of every living being around him. He used to say, 'I am
all for cheap luxuries, even for animals; now all animals have a passion
for scratching their back bones. They break down your gates and palings
to effect this. Look! there is my universal scratcher, a sharp-edged
pole, resting on a high and a low post, adapted to every height, from a
horse to a lamb. Even the Edinburgh Reviewer can take his turn. You have
no idea how popular it is. I have not had a gate broken since I put it
up. I have it in all my fields.'"
REV. AUGUSTUS TOPLADY ON THE FUTURE STATE OF ANIMALS.
The Rev. Josiah Bull, in the "Memorials of the Rev. William Bull of
Newport, Pagnel,"[280] the friend of Cowper, the poet, and the Rev. John
Newton, tells the following anecdote, in which a favourite theory of the
author of that exquisite hymn, "Rock of Ages Cleft for Me," is alluded
to, and somewhat comically illustrated by the author of the "Olney
Hymns:"--
"Mr Newton had been dining with Mr Bull, and they were quietly sitting
together, following after 'the things whereby they might edify one
another,' and that search aided by 'interposing puffs' of the fragrant
weed. It was in that old study I so well remember, ere it was renovated
to meet the demands of modern taste. A room some eighteen feet square,
with an arched roof, entirely surrounded with many a precious volume,
with large, old casement windows, and immense square chairs of fine
Spanish mahogany. There these good men were quietly enjoying their
_tete-a-tete_, when they were startled by a thundering knock at the
door; and in came Mr Ryland of Northampton, abruptly exclaiming, 'If you
wish to see Mr Toplady, you must go immediately with me to the "Swan."
He is on his way to London, and will not live long.' They all proceeded
to the inn, and there found the good man, emaciated with disease, and
evidently fast hastening to the grave. As they were talking together,
they were attracted by a great noise in the street, occasioned, as they
found on looking out, by a bull-baiting which was going on before the
house. Mr Toplady was touched by the cruelty of the scene, and
exclaimed, 'Who could bear to see that sight, if there were not to be
some compensation for these poor suffering animals in a future
state?'--'I certainly hope,' said my grandfather, 'that all the bulls
will go to heaven; but do you think this will be the case with all the
animal creation?'--'Yes, certainly,' replied Mr Toplady, with great
emphasis, 'all, all!'--'What!' rejoined Mr Newton, with some sarcasm in
his tone, 'do you suppose, sir, there will be fleas in heaven? for I
have a special aversion to them.' Mr Toplady said nothing, but was
evidently hurt; and as they separated, Mr Newton said, 'How happy he
should be to see him at Olney, if God spared his life, and he were to
come that way again.' The reply Mr Toplady made was not very courteous;
but the good man was perhaps suffering from the irritation of disease,
and possibly annoyed by the ridicule cast upon a favourite theory."
RIGHT HONOURABLE WILLIAM WINDHAM, M.P., ON THE FEELINGS OF A BAITED
BULL.
That great parliamentary orator, the Right Honourable William Windham,
lived before the days when humanity to animals was deemed a fit subject
for legislation.
In his speech against "the bill for preventing the practice of
bull-baiting" (April 18, 1800),[281] he refers to the introduction of
such a measure as follows--"In turning from the great interests of this
country, and of Europe, to discuss with equal solemnity such measures as
that which is now before us, the House appears to me to resemble Mr
Smirk, the auctioneer, in the play, who could hold forth just as
eloquently upon a ribbon as upon a Raphael." He speaks of bull-baiting
as being, "it must be confessed, at the expense of an animal which is
not by any means a party to the amusement; but then," he adds, "it
serves to cultivate the qualities of a certain species of dogs, which
affords as much pleasure to their owners as greyhounds do to others. It
is no small recommendation to bull-dogs that they are so much in repute
with the populace." In a second speech, May 24, 1802, he said that he
believed "the bull felt a satisfaction in the contest, not less so than
the hound did when he heard the sound of the horn that summoned him to
the chase. True it was that young bulls, or those which were never
baited before, showed reluctance to be tied to the stake; but those
bulls which, according to the language of the sport, were called _game
bulls_, who were used to baiting, approached the stake, and stood there
while preparing for the contest, with the utmost composure. If the bull
felt no pleasure, and was cruelly dealt with, surely the dogs had also
some claim to compassion; but the fact was that both seemed equally
arduous in the conflict; and the bull, like every other animal, while it
had the better side, did not dislike his situation--it would be
ridiculous to say he felt no pain--yet, when on such occasions he
exhibited no signs of terror, it was a demonstrable proof that he felt
some pleasure."
The "sober loyal men" of Stamford, it would seem, had petitioned for the
continuance of their annual sport, which had been continued for a
period of five or six hundred years, and who were displeased with their
landlord, the Marquis of Exeter, for his endeavours to put down their
cruel sport. Windham refers to "the antiquity of the thing being
deserving of respect, for respect for antiquity was the best
preservation of the Church and State!!"
FOOTNOTES:
[270] Mark Lemon, "Jest Book," p. 36.
[271] Mark Lemon, "Jest Book," p. 111.
[272] "An Account of the Religious and Literary Life of Adam Clarke,
LL.D., F.A.S.," by a Member of his Family, vol ii., p. 346.
[273] "Memoirs of Samuel Foote, Esq.," by Wm. Cooke, Esq., vol. i., p.
13.
[274] Mark Lemon, "Jest Book", p. 246.
[275] Lord Sidmouth lived near Burghfield, where Mr Bird kept pupils,
and was curate. See "Sketches from the Life of the Rev. Charles Smith
Bird."
[276] "Lives of Hugh Latimer and Bernard Gilpin," by the Rev. William
Gilpin, p. 271.
[277] Anecdotes. Supplement, p. 249 (Singer's edition). Spence died in
1768, aged 70.
[278] "Velasquez and his Works," by William Stirling, p. 62.
[279] Lady Holland's "Memoirs of her Father, the Rev. Sydney Smith,"
vol. i., p. 118.
[280] "Memorials of the Rev. William Bull of Newport, Pagnel," &c., by
his grandson, the Rev. Josiah Bull, M.A. 1864.
[281] "Speeches in Parliament of the Right Honourable William Windham,
to which is prefixed some account of his Life," by Thomas Amyot, Esq.,
vol. i. pp. 332, 353 (1812).
WHALES.
Last and greatest of the mammalia are the whales. The adventures of
hardy seamen, like Scoresby, in the pursuit of the Greenland whale, or
Beale in the more dangerous chase of the spermaceti, in southern waters,
form the subjects of more than one readable volume. But here we give no
such extracts, but content ourselves with four short skits, having the
cetacea for their subject.
In these days of zoological gardens, they have succeeded in bringing one
of the smallest of the order, a porpoise, to the Zoological Gardens. His
speedy dissolution showed that even the bath of a hippopotamus or an
elephant was too limited for the dwelling of this pre-eminently marine
creature. But he had begun to show an intelligence, they say, which,
independently of all zoological and anatomical considerations, showed
that he had nothing in common with a fish, but a somewhat similar form,
and an equal necessity for abundance of the pure liquid element.
WHALEBONE.
A thin old man, with a rag-bag in his hand, was picking up a number of
small pieces of whalebone, which lay on the street. The deposit was of
such a singular nature, that we asked the quaint-looking gatherer how he
supposed they came there? "Don't know," he replied, in a squeaking
voice; "but I s'pect some unfortunate female was _wrecked_ hereabout
somewhere."[282]
* * * * *
A Scotch lady, who was discomposed by the introduction of gas, asked
with much earnestness, "What's to become o' the _puir whales_?' deeming
their interests materially affected by this superseding of their
oil."[283]
VERY LIKE A WHALE.
The first of all the royal infant males
Should take the title of the Prince of _Wales_:
Because, 'tis clear to seamen and to lubber,
Babies and _whales_ are both inclined to _blubber_.[284]
CHRISTOPHER NORTH ON THE WHALE.
_Tickler._ What fish, James, would you incline to be, if put into
scales?
_Shepherd._ A dolphin: for they hae the speed o' lichtnin. They'll dart
past and roun' about a ship in full sail before the wind, just as if she
was at anchor. Then the dolphin is a fish o' peace,--he saved the life
o' a poet of auld, Arion, wi' his harp,--and oh! they say the cretur's
beautifu' in death. Byron, ye ken, comparin' his hues to those o' the
sun settin' ahint the Grecian isles. I sud like to be a dolphin.
* * * * *
_Shepherd._ Let me see--I sud hae nae great objections to be a whale in
the Polar Seas. Gran' fun to fling a boatfu' o' harpooners into the
air--or, wi' ae thud o' your tail, to drive in the stern posts o' a
Greenlandman.
_Tickler._ Grander fun still, James, to feel the inextricable harpoon in
your blubber, and to go snoving away beneath an ice-floe with four miles
of line connecting you with your distant enemies.
_Shepherd._ But, then, whales marry but ae wife, and are passionately
attached to their offspring. There they and I are congenial speerits.
Nae fish that swims enjoys so large a share of domestic happiness.
_Tickler._ A whale, James, is not a fish.
_Shepherd._ Isna he? Let him alane for that. He's ca'd a fish in the
Bible, and that's better authority than Buffon. Oh that I were a
whale![285]
* * * * *
With these sentences, we conclude this book, as well as our selections
on the whale. In the Museum at Edinburgh may be seen one of the finest,
if not the most perfect, skeleton of a whale exhibited in this kingdom.
Our young readers there can soon see, by examining it from the gallery,
that the whale is no "fish."
FOOTNOTES:
[282] Mark Lemon, "Jest Book," p. 122.
[283] _Ibid._, p. 201.
[284] _Ibid._, p. 142.
[285] "Noctes Ambrosianae," Works of Professor Wilson, vol. ii., p. 4.
INDEX.
Addison and Steele on the peculiarities of the natural history collectors, 5-8
Albert's horse at Brussels, 256.
Ammonianus and his ass, 279.
Androcles and the lion, 167-169.
Ant-eater, the great, 225-229.
Arctic fox, 142-148.
Ass, Sydney Smith on sagacity of, 283.
Ass and zebra, 276.
Ass's foal, 278.
Asses with deers' antlers fastened on heads, 284;
duty free, 284.
Asylum for animals, 265, 266.
Austrian general and a bear, 58, 59.
Aye-aye, its singular structure and habits, 36-38.
Baboons, Lady Anne Barnard on, 24, 25.
Babylon, bas-relief of dog found at, 86, 87.
Babyrusa, 240.
Back, Sir George, anecdote of Arctic lemming, 196.
Badger, 71;
anecdotes of, 72-75.
Baird, origin of name, 241.
Barrentz on white or Polar bear, 64.
Barnard, Lady Anne, pleads for the baboons, 24, 25;
on some rabbits, 222.
Bats, fantastic faces of, 38, 39.
Bearable pun, 61.
Bears, 56, 57;
anecdotes of, 58-70.
Beechey, Captain, on Polar bear, 63;
on the walrus, 184-186, 187.
Bell, Professor, on cats, 149.
Bell, Sir Charles, on the head of a pig, 239.
Bell-Rock horse, 257.
Bentham, Jeremy, and his pet cat, 150-152;
and the mice, 205, 206.
Berwickshire, names of places in, derived from swine, 241.
Bess, a pet hare of the poet Cowper's, 216.
Bisset and his trained monkeys, 25, 26;
musical cats, 152, 153;
trained hares and turtle, 221, 222;
learned pig, 250.
Black Dwarf's cat, 157.
Blomfield, Bishop, bitten by a dog, 88.
Boar, wild, 239-245.
Border, cow getting across, 309.
Borneo, the home of the orang, 11.
Boswell imitates the lowing of a cow, 305.
Bradford, Earl of, on the number of legs of a sheep, 296.
Bristol, Bishop of, comparing Cambridge freshmen to puppies, 89.
Brock, or badger, 72.
Brown, Dr John, "Rab" and "Our Dogs," 78.
Browning, Mrs Elizabeth Barrett, lines on her dog Flush, 89-93.
Browning's, Robert, description of rats, 199.
Bull, an Irish, 304.
Bull, Rev. Wm., Newton, and Toplady, anecdote of, 312.
Bull-baiting at Olney, 313;
Windham on, 314.
Bull-ring, Philip IV. in, 310.
Bullock and Dr Adam Clarke, 305, 306.
Burke, Edmund, question when interrupted, 149;
anecdote of his humanity, 257, 258.
Burns' "Twa Dogs," 81, 82;
the field-mouse, 206-208.
Bush-pig, 148.
Bussapa, the tiger-slayer, 162-164.
Buxton, Sir Thomas Fowell, Bart., and his dog Speaker, 93, 94.
Byron on his dog, 79;
on Boatswain, a Newfoundland dog, 94, 95;
pets, 26, 27;
bear at Cambridge, 59.
"Calamity," a horse of Sydney Smith's, 272.
Calf, a great, 304.
Calves and kine, 304.
Camel, Captain Wm. Peel on, 287-289.
Campbell, Colonel, account of Bussapa and the tiger, 162-164.
Canova's sculptured lions and the child, 171-173.
Carnac and the she-goat, 299.
Cats, 149-161.
Cat's letter, by Montgomery, 156.
Cattle of Sydney Smith, and their universal scratcher, 311.
Chalmers, Dr, and the guinea-pig, 223, 224.
_Cheiroptera_, the order which contains the bats, 38, 39.
Children and horses cannot explain their complaints, 269.
Chimpanzee, Mr Mitchell on the habits of a young one, 22-42.
China, roasted pups eaten in, 78.
_Chiromys Madagascariensis_, its habits, 36-38.
_Choiropotamus Africanus_, 140.
Choiseul, Madame de, and her pet monkey and parrot, 33, 34.
Chunie, the elephant, 230.
Clare's dog and Curran, 98.
Clarke, Dr Adam, on Shetland seals, 175, 176;
his bullock Pat, 305.
Clive's, Lord, handwriting misunderstood, 230.
Cockburn, Lord, and the sheep at Bonaly, 298.
Collie at Cultershaw, 82.
Collins, Wm., R.A., and Sir David Wilkie, 3;
the rat-catcher with the ferret, 76;
his dog Prinny, 96, 97;
paints Odell's old donkey, 277.
Collins, W. Wilkie, Sir David Wilkie's first remark on him, 3, 4.
Constant and his cat, 153.
Cook's sailor, who took a fox-bat for the devil, 40.
Cooke, Major-General, 189.
Coon, a gone, 71.
Couthon and the spaniel, 195.
Cowper's narrative of his pet hares, 213-219;
dog Beau and the water-lily, 79-81.
Cows, anecdotes of, 306-311.
Cross, Edward, of Exeter Change and Walworth, 33.
Cruelty to horses in Ireland, 275.
Cunningham, Major, on Ladak dog, 86.
Curran on Lord Clare's dog, 98.
Cuvier and the fossil, 236.
_Cynocephali_, or African baboons, 9, 24, 25.
Dalhousie, Earl of, and the ferocious red-deer, 291.
Dandie Dinmont educates his terriers, 122.
Davis, Sir George, and the lion, 170, 171.
Deer family, 290, 291;
their sensibility of smell, 300.
Dessin Island, rabbits on, blind of one eye, 222.
Dickens on sellers of bears' grease, 59, 60.
Dog and the French murderers, 104, 105.
Dog-cheap, 100.
Dog-matic, 113.
Dog-rose, 133.
Dogs, 77-87.
Douglas, General, and the rats, 201.