Part 11

A fine, handsome, and valuable black dog of the Newfoundland species, belonging to Mr. Floyd, solicitor, Holmfirth, committed suicide by drowning itself in the river which flows at the back of its owner's habitation. For some days previous the animal seemed less animated than usual, but on this particular occasion he was noticed to throw himself into the water and endeavour to sink by preserving perfect stillness of the legs and feet. Being dragged out of the stream, the dog was tied up for a time, but had no sooner been released than he again hastened to the water and again tried to sink, and was again got out. This occurred many times, until at length the animal with repeated efforts appeared to get exhausted, and by dint of keeping his head determinedly under water for a few minutes succeeded at last in obtaining his object, for when taken out this time he was indeed dead. The case is worth recording, as affording another proof of the general instinct and sagacity of the canine race.

Mr. Nicol, late of Pall Mall, told me he saw an old foxhound deliberately drown itself, and was ready to make oath of it.

Mrs. Kaye, residing opposite Windsor Park Wall, Datchet, had a beautiful Newfoundland dog. For the convenience of the family a boat was kept, that they might at times cross the water without the inconvenience of going a considerable way round to Datchet Bridge. The dog was so delighted with the aquatic trips, that he very rarely permitted the boat to go without him. It happened that the coachman, who had been but little accustomed to the depths and shallows of the water, intending a forcible push with the punt pole, which was not long enough to reach the bottom, fell over the side of the boat in the deepest part of the water, and in the central part of the current, which accident was observed by a part of the family then at the front windows of the house; sudden and dreadful as the alarm was, they had the consolation of seeing the sagacious animal instantaneously follow his companion, when after diving, and making two or three abortive attempts, by laying hold of different parts of his apparel, which as repeatedly gave way or overpowered his exertions, he then, with the most determined and energetic fortitude, seized him by the arm, and brought him to the edge of the bank, where the domestics of the terrified family were ready to assist in extricating him from his perilous situation.[J]

I have mentioned that revenge had been shown by dogs, and the following is an instance of it. A gentleman was staying at Worthing, where his Newfoundland dog was teased and annoyed by a small cur, which snapped and barked at him. This he bore, without appearing to notice it, for some time; but at last the Newfoundland dog seemed to lose his usual patience and forbearance, and he one day, in the presence of several spectators, took the cur up by his back, swam with it into the sea, held it under the water, and would probably have drowned it, had not a boat been put off and rescued it. There was another instance communicated to me. A fine Newfoundland dog had been constantly annoyed by a small spaniel. The former, seizing the opportunity when they were on a terrace under which a river flowed, took up the spaniel in his mouth, and dropped it over the parapet into the river.

Jukes, in his "Excursions in and about Newfoundland," says, "A thin, short-haired black dog, belonging to George Harvey, came off to us to-day; this animal was of a breed very different from what we understand by the term Newfoundland dog in England. He had a thin tapering snout, a long thin tail, and rather thin but powerful legs, with a lank body, the hair short and smooth. These are the most abundant dogs of the country, the long-haired curly dogs being comparatively rare. They are by no means handsome, but are generally more intelligent and useful than the others. This one caught his own fish; he sat on a projecting rock beneath a fish-lake or stage, where the fish are laid to dry, watching the water, which had a depth of six or eight feet, the bottom of which was white with fish-bones. On throwing a piece of codfish into the water, three or four heavy, clumsy-looking fish, called in Newfoundland sculpins, with great heads and mouths, and many spines about them, and generally about a foot long, would swim in to catch it. These he would '_set_' attentively, and the moment one turned his broadside to him, he darted down like a fish-hawk, and seldom came up without the fish in his mouth. As he caught them he carried them regularly to a place a few yards off, where he laid them down; and they told us that in the summer he would sometimes make a pile of fifty or sixty a-day just at that place. He never attempted to eat them, but seemed to be fishing purely for his own amusement. I watched him for about two hours, and when the fish did not come I observed he once or twice put his right foot in the water, and paddled it about. This foot was white, and Harvey said he did it to _toll_ or entice the fish; but whether it was for that specific reason, or merely a motion of impatience, I could not exactly decide."

Extraordinary as the following anecdote may appear to some persons, it is strictly true, and strongly shows the sense, and I am almost inclined to add, reason of the Newfoundland dog.

A friend of mine, while shooting wild fowl with his brother, was attended by a sagacious dog of this breed. In getting near some reeds by the side of a river, they threw down their hats, and crept to the edge of the water, when they fired at some birds. They soon afterwards sent the dog to bring their hats, one of which was smaller than the other. After several attempts to bring them both together in his mouth, the dog at last placed the smaller hat in the larger one, pressed it down with his foot, and thus was able to bring them both at the same time.

A gentleman residing in Fifeshire, and not far from the city of St. Andrews, was in possession of a very fine Newfoundland dog, which was remarkable alike for its tractability and its trustworthiness. At two other points, each distant about a mile, and at the same distance from this gentleman's mansion, there were two dogs of great power, but of less tractable breeds than the Newfoundland one. One of these was a large mastiff, kept as a watch-dog by a farmer, and the other a stanch bull-dog, that kept guard over the parish mill. As each of these three was lord-ascendant of all animals at his master's residence, they all had a good deal of aristocratic pride and pugnacity, so that two of them seldom met without attempting to settle their respective dignities by a wager of battle.

The Newfoundland dog was of some service in the domestic arrangements, besides his guardianship of the house; for every forenoon he was sent to the baker's shop in the village, about half-a-mile distant, with a towel containing money in the corner, and he returned with the value of the money in bread. There were many useless and not over-civil curs in the village, as there are in too many villages throughout the country; but generally the haughty Newfoundland treated this ignoble race in that contemptuous style in which great dogs are wont to treat little ones. When the dog returned from the baker's shop, he used to be regularly served with his dinner, and went peaceably on house-duty for the rest of the day.

One day, however, he returned with his coat dirtied and his ears scratched, having been subjected to a combined attack of the curs while he had charge of his towel and bread, and so could not defend himself. Instead of waiting for his dinner as usual, he laid down his charge somewhat sulkily, and marched off; and, upon looking after him, it was observed that he was crossing the intervening hollow in a straight line for the house of the farmer, or rather on an embassy to the farmer's mastiff. The farmer's people noticed this unusual visit, which they were induced to do from its being a meeting of peace between those who had habitually been belligerents. After some intercourse, of which no interpretation could be given, the two set off together in the direction of the mill; and having arrived there, they in brief space engaged the miller's bull-dog as an ally.

The straight road to the village where the indignity had been offered to the Newfoundland dog passed immediately in front of his master's house, but there was a more private and more circuitous road by the back of the mill. The three took this road, reached the village, scoured it in great wrath, putting to the tooth every cur they could get sight of; and having taken their revenge, and washed themselves in a ditch, they returned, each dog to the abode of his master; and, when any two of them happened to meet afterwards, they displayed the same pugnacity as they had done previous to this joint expedition.

There is a well-authenticated anecdote of two dogs at Donaghadee, in which the instinctive daring of the one by the other caused a friendship, and, as it should seem, a kind of lamentation for the dead, after one of them had paid the debt of nature. This happened while the Government harbour or pier for the packets at Donaghadee was in the course of building, and it took place in the sight of several witnesses. The one dog in this case was also a Newfoundland, and the other was a mastiff. They were both powerful dogs; and though each was good-natured when alone, they were very much in the habit of fighting when they met. One day they had a fierce and prolonged battle on the pier, from the point of which they both fell into the sea; and as the pier was long and steep, they had no means of escape but by swimming a considerable distance. Throwing water upon fighting dogs is an approved means of putting an end to their hostilities; and it is natural to suppose that two combatants of the same species tumbling themselves into the sea would have the same effect. It had; and each began to make for the land as best he could. The Newfoundland being an excellent swimmer, very speedily gained the pier, on which he stood shaking himself; but at the same time watching the motions of his late antagonist, which, being no swimmer, was struggling exhausted in the water, and just about to sink. In dashed the Newfoundland dog, took the other gently by the collar, kept his head above water, and brought him safely on shore. There was a peculiar kind of recognition between the two animals; they never fought again; they were always together: and when the Newfoundland dog had been accidentally killed by the passage of a stone waggon on the railway over him, the other languished and evidently lamented for a long time.

A gentleman had a pointer and Newfoundland dog, which were great friends. The former broke his leg, and was confined to a kennel. During that time the Newfoundland never failed bringing bones and other food to the pointer, and would sit for hours together by the side of his suffering friend.

During a period of very hot weather, the Mayor of Plymouth gave orders that all dogs found wandering in the public streets should be secured by the police, and removed to the prison-yard. Among them was a Newfoundland dog belonging to a shipowner of the port, who, with several others, was tied up in the yard. The Newfoundland soon gnawed the rope which confined him, and then hearing the cries of his companions to be released, he set to work to gnaw the ropes which confined them, and had succeeded in three or four instances, when he was interrupted by the entrance of the jailor.

A nearly similar case has frequently occurred in the Cumberland Gardens, Windsor Great Park. Two dogs of the Newfoundland breed were confined in kennels at that place. When one of them was let loose, he has been frequently seen to set his companion free.

A boatman once plunged into the water to swim with another man for a wager. His Newfoundland dog, mistaking the purpose, and supposing that his master was in danger, plunged after him, and dragged him to the shore by his hair, to the great diversion of the spectators.

Mr. Peter Macarthur informs me, that in the year 1821, when opposite to Falmouth, he was at breakfast with a gentleman, when a large Newfoundland dog, all dripping with water, entered the room, and laid a newspaper on the table. The gentleman (who was one of the Society of Friends) informed the party, that this dog swam regularly across the ferry every morning, and went to the post-office, and fetched the papers of the day.

Mr. Blaine, in his "Encyclopædia of Rural Sports," tells the following story:--A Newfoundland dog, of the small, smooth-haired variety, in coming to England from his native country, was washed overboard during a tempestuous night. As daylight appeared the gale ceased, when a sailor at the mast-head descried something far in the wake of the vessel, which, by the help of his glass, he was led to believe was the dog, which was so great a favourite with the crew that it was unanimously requested of the captain of the vessel to _lie to_, and wait for the chance of saving the poor brute. The captain, who had probably lost some time already by the storm, peremptorily refused to listen to the humane proposal. Whether it was the kindly feeling of the sailors, or the superstitious dread that if the dog were suffered to perish nothing would afterwards prosper with them, we are not informed; but we do know that, as soon as a refusal was made, the steersman left the helm, roundly asserting that he for one would never lend a hand to steer away from either Christian or brute in distress. The feeling was immediately caught by the rest of the crew, and maintained so resolutely, that the captain was forced to accede to the general wish; and the poor dog eventually reached the ship in safety, after having been, as we were informed, and implicitly believe, some hours in a tempestuous sea.

Bewick mentions an instance which shows the extraordinary sagacity of these dogs.

In a severe storm, a ship was lost off Yarmouth, and no living creature escaped, except a Newfoundland dog, which swam to the shore with the captain's pocket-book in his mouth. Several of the bystanders attempted to take it from him, but he would not part with it. At length, selecting one person from the crowd, whose appearance probably pleased him, he leaped against his breast in a fawning manner, and delivered the book to his care.

After mentioning this anecdote it will not be displeasing to read Lord Grenville's lines on his faithful Newfoundland, as they may now be seen at Dropmore, with the translation of them:--

TIPPO.

IN VILLA.

Tippo ego hic jaceo, lapidem ne sperne, viator, Qui tali impositus stat super ossa cani. Larga mî natura manu dedit omnia, nostrum Quæcunque exornant nobilitantque genus: Robur erat validum, formæ concinna venustas, Ingenui mores, intemerata fides. Nec pudet invisi nomen gessisse tyranni, Si tam dissimili viximus ingenio. Naufragus in nuda Tenbeiæ[K] ejectus arena, Ploravi domino me superesse meo, Quem mihi, luctanti frustra, frustraque juvanti, Abreptum, oceani in gurgite mersit hyems. Solus ego sospes, sed quas miser ille tabellas Morte mihi in media credidit, ore ferens. Dulci me hospitio Belgæ excepere coloni, Ipsa etiam his olim gens aliena plagis; Et mihi gratum erat in longa spatiarier[L] ora, Et quanquam infido membra lavare mari; Gratum erat æstivis puerorum adjungere turmis

## Participem lusus me, comitemque viæ.

Verum ubi, de multis captanti frustula mensis, Bruma aderat, seniique hora timenda mei, Insperata adeo illuxit fortuna, novique Perfugium et requiem cura dedit domini. Exinde hos saltus, hæc inter florea rura, Et vixi felix, et tumulum hunc habeo.

TIPPO.

_Translated by a young Lady, a near Relation of the Author._

Here, stranger, pause, nor view with scornful eyes The stone which marks where faithful Tippo lies. Freely kind Nature gave each liberal grace, Which most ennobles and exalts our race, Excelling strength and beauty joined in me, Ingenuous worth, and firm fidelity. Nor shame I to have borne a tyrant's name, So far unlike to his my spotless fame. Cast by a fatal storm on Tenby's coast, Reckless of life, I wailed my master lost. Whom long contending with the o'erwhelming wave In vain with fruitless love I strove to save. I, only I, alas! surviving bore, His dying trust, his tablets,[M] to the shore. Kind welcome from the Belgian race I found, Who, once in times remote, to British ground Strangers like me came from a foreign strand. I loved at large along the extended sand To roam, and oft beneath the swelling wave, Tho' known so fatal once, my limbs to lave; Or join the children in their summer play, First in their sports, companion of their way. Thus while from many a hand a meal I sought, Winter and age had certain misery brought; But Fortune smiled, a safe and blest abode A new-found master's generous love bestowed, And midst these shades, where smiling flow'rets bloom, Gave me a happy life and honoured tomb.

Dr. Abell, in one of his lectures on phrenology, related a very striking anecdote of a Newfoundland dog at Cork. This dog was of a noble and generous disposition, and when he left his master's house was often assailed by a number of little noisy dogs in the street. He usually passed them with apparent unconcern, as if they were beneath his notice. One little cur, however, was particularly troublesome, and at length carried his petulance so far as to bite the Newfoundland dog in the back of his foot. This was too much to be patiently endured. He instantly turned round, ran after the offender, and seized him by the skin of his back. In this way he carried him in his mouth to the quay, and holding him some time over the water, at length dropped him into it. He did not seem, however, to wish to punish the culprit too much, for he waited a little while the poor animal, who was unused to that element, was not only well ducked, but near sinking, when he plunged in himself, and brought the other safe to land.

An officer, late in the 15th Hussars, informed me that he had witnessed a similar occurrence at St. Petersburg. These certainly are instances of a noble and generous disposition, as well as of great forbearance in not resenting an injury.

I may add the following instance of sagacity from the same quarter.

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.