Part 15

I do not mean that the gentry had not the aid of servants in these as in other menial occupations—(for it is evident that Xenophon’s ἀρκυωρὸς was a servant; and on the huntsman’s tomb, recorded by Pausanias in Achaicis c. +xxii.+, by the side of the principal is the οἰκέτης ἀκόντια ἔχων, καὶ ἄγων κύνας ἐπιτηδείας θηρεύουσιν ἀνθρώποις—The ostentation too of the Horatian Gargilius,

qui mane plagas, venabula, servos, Differium transire forum populumque jubebat,—

is farther proof; and so likewise the “famuli, comitumque animosa juventus” of Nemesian, engaged in preparing the furniture of hunting;)—but I mean that the gentry were practically engaged in this predatory venation, themselves directing and assisting in the distribution of the whole machinery of it. In defence, however, of Xenophon, the most accomplished of ancient sportsmen, and in contradistinction of his habits in the field to those of modern poachers, whom in some of his predatory tackling it must be allowed he resembled, we may observe that he orders all the apparatus to be taken away when the sport is over—ἀναλύειν χρὴ τὰ περὶ κυνηγέσιον πάντα—a clear indication, that though he and his compeers used nets and dogs together, forestalling their prey, contrary to the custom of the more enlightened moderns, who hunt at force, κατὰ πόδας,—yet it was held illegal, or at least unsportsmanlike, to leave snares on the ground longer than the time of the actual chase.

But of “the abrogated styles of hunting in the ignorant non-age of the world,”—to use the language of Christopher Wase,—enough. The pit, the snare, and other supellex venandi, were employed, as already stated, long before the dog was tutored to the chase, and were continued after his initiation, and that of his valued associate and coadjutor the horse, (the joint-presents of the twin-sons of Leda,) who contributed their services in common to almost every variety of chase:

ξυναὶ θηροσύναι τε λίνων, ξυναί τε ποδάγραι· ξυνὰ δέ τ’ ἀνθρώποισι ποδωκέα πάντα γένεθλα ἵπποις ἠδὲ κύνεσσι διωκέμεν.

We know not at this period whether the different varieties of the canine tribe are to be classed under the same species—whether a specific identity exist in the wolf, the jackal, and the dog—nor whether, in the latter family, the peculiar adaptation of each variety for peculiar functions can be the accidental consequences of mere degeneration, excited to change by the climate of different countries, and the ingenuity of man.

Let the primeval stock be what it may, the race was first initiated in the pursuit of wild animals by that celebrated sportsman, the Amyclean Pollux;—for we must not despise fable where history is silent, and again quote the Greek poet of the chase:

πρὸς δὲ μόθους θηρῶν κύνας ὥπλισε καρχαρόδοντας διογενὴς πρῶτος Λακεδαιμόνιος Πολυδεύκης, καὶ γὰρ πυγμαχίῃσι λυγροὺς ἐναρίξατο φῶτας, καὶ σκυλάκεσσι θοαῖς βαλίους ἐδαμάσσατο θῆρας.

The species being distributed over the habitable world, derived its various names from its geographical distribution—each country having its variety of the race, characterized by remarkable qualities, and distinguished by them in the Cynegetical works of Greece and Rome:—

prima illa canum, non ulla per artes Cura prior, sive indomitos vehementior hostes Nudo marte premas, seu bellum ex arte ministres. Mille canum patriæ, ductique ab origine mores Cuique suâ.

Where the descriptions of these mores or qualities are sufficiently full, in the works alluded to, for a satisfactory classification of the several varieties of the canine tribe, it is the object of the following trivial work to attempt it—

the various gifts to trace, The minds and genius of the latrant race.

But it must not be expected that it will give an account of all the semi-fabulous dogs of classical antiquity, or attempt to reduce within the pale of a zoological arrangement the shape and properties of every mongrel, however memorable, that has puzzled the discriminative acumen of Conrad Gesner himself; or find archetypes in the kennels of Greece and Rome, for “all the barkand parishtikes” of the credulous Dr. Caius, and more recent writers of canine biography.

This little monograph being almost exclusively confined to the common Canes Venatici—

τόσσοι τ’ ἐπὶ πᾶσι κύνεσσιν ἔξοχ’ ἀρίζηλοι μάλα τ’ ἀγρευτῆρσι μέλονται—

it is not incumbent on me to inquire whether a Cerberus, or an Orthrus, (the κρατερόφρονα τέκνα of Typhaon and Echidna), ever existed in canine shape—whether Anubis was a biped or quadruped “latrator”—a genuine barker, or a dog-faced Mercury—Ἕρμης ὁ κυνοπρόσωπος—whether Euripides was torn to pieces by ferocious dogs or spiteful women—whether the beauty of the dog of Alcibiades, probably a Canis Ostiarius and not a Canis Venaticus, was impaired by the loss of his tail, or the act of decurtation conferred on the eccentric Athenian the notoriety he expected—nor on what variety of the race is to be charged the deaths of Thrasus, Actæon, and Linus, of Ovid’s well-known tetrastic. It is foreign to my purpose to inquire whether Plutarch’s dog, who threw stones into an oil-cruse till he had raised its contents sufficiently high in the neck of the vessel to lap the oleaginous fluid, surpassed in sagacious ingenuity the cunning brutes of more modern dog-fanciers—whether the disciplined mimic, exhibited before Vespasian in the theatre of Marcellus, must yield to the discriminative feats of his congener before Justinian. All these non-descripts, from the janitor Orci to the theatrical pantomimi, are out of my beat. Amusing too as it might be to the reader to have an account of every faithful dog, recorded by the immortal German naturalist as the σύμμαχοι and σωματοφύλακες of man,—and the anecdotes of canine instinct and affection registered by Plutarch, Ælian, Pliny, Solinus, and Julius Pollux—versified by Johannes Tzetzes and Natalis Comes, and reprinted by the laborious Paullini in the Cynographia Curiosa, presented to his notice,—such a compilation would lead me into too wide a field. For the same reason, and without meaning any disrespect to the ladies of Greece and Rome, I am prevented from enrolling on my file their domestic pets—

consueta domi catulorum blanda propago Degere—

the οἱ ἐπὶ τερπωλὴν, καὶ οἱ μελιταῖοι λεγόμενοι of the visionary Artemidorus. I cannot, however, deny the reader the gratification of perusing the following lines of Darcius, in which he celebrates these tiny creatures;—of whom Martial’s Issa will be remembered as a classic exemplar—“Deliciæ catella Publî.”

Sunt humiles etiam Melitæâ ex gente catelli, Quos gremio gestare solent Heroïdes, hique Nec cursu celerem sectantur præpete cervum, Nec lato pavidum leporem scrutantur in arvo: Veste sedent fluxâ, et pedibus mylesia calcant Serica, sub Tyrioque recumbunt molliter ostro: Nunc caput exertant gremio, saliuntque decorum Nobilis in vultum dominæ, lusuque fatigant Labra corallino modicum suffusa rubore, Vernantesque genas, et ebur superantia colla, Smaragdoque graves digitos, et Perside gazâ. Nunc tenui latrare sono, pictoque videbis Lascivire toro, aut nitidâ juveniliter aulâ.

But hold—

whilst thus we play the fool, In bold contempt of every rule— Things of no consequence expressing, Describing now, and now digressing— To the discredit of our skill, The main concern is standing still.

It is a favourite notion of classic writers that the qualities and dispositions of the animals of each country are in accordance with those of the human inhabitants: and this opinion prevails more especially relative to domesticated animals, the reclaimed varieties of the dog and horse. Numerous instances might be adduced in corroboration of this hypothesis. Strabo remarks in the Iberian and Albanian people, and their dogs, the same fondness of hunting—θηρευτικοὶ δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ καὶ οἱ κύνες αὐτῶν εἰς ὑπερβολήν: and Ælian, in the Medes and their horses—σοβαροὶ δὲ Μῆδοι καὶ ἁβροὶ, καὶ μέντοι καὶ οἱ ἐκείνων τοιοῦτοι ἵπποι· φαίης ἂν αὐτοὺς τρυφᾷν σὺν τοῖς δεσπόταις, καὶ τῷ μεγέθει τοῦ σώματος, καὶ τῷ κάλλει, κ. τ. λ. These, probably, he meant to contrast, as well as their proud riders, with the sorry-looking, unsightly horses of Libya, (active, however, and patient of fatigue), and the unsightly people of the country.

The naturalist then proceeds to say that such also are his opinions with regard to the dogs of each country; and specifies, as examples corroborative of his hypothesis, the Cretan, Molossian, and Carmanian—κύων Κρῆσσα κούφη, καὶ ἁλτικὴ, καὶ ὀρειβασίαις σύντροφος· καὶ μέντοι καὶ αὐτοὶ Κρῆτες τοιούτους αὑτοὺς παραδεικνῦσι, καὶ ᾄδει ἡ φήμη. θυμικώτατος δὲ κυνῶν Μολοσσὸς, ἐπεὶ θυμωδέστατοι καὶ οἱ ἄνδρες. Ἀνὴρ δὲ Καρμάνιος καὶ κύων ἀμφότερα ἀγριώτατα καὶ μειλιχθῆναι ἄτεγκτα φύσιν. A farther example of this prevalent notion is found in the lines of Gratius on the crafty Acarnanian dog—“clandestinus Acarnan:”—

Sicut Acarnanes subierunt prælia furto; Sic canis illa suos taciturna supervenit hostes:—

alluding to a passage of the history of Thucydides, where he relates that Demosthenes placed 400 Acarnanians in ambuscade, in a hollow way near Olpæ; whence they issued forth in the heat of the subsequent engagement, and by their sudden assault on the rear of the Peloponnesians, completely routed them. A similar reference to national character is evident in the passage of Gratius, on crossing defective breeds of dogs with others in which opposite excellencies exist:

Quondam inconsultis mater dabit Umbrica Gallis Sensum agilem, &c.

But to descend from these general remarks on the supposed assimilation of men and animals, cohabitants of the same soil, to the particular kennel-rolls of Greece and Rome. There appears to have been a threefold distinction of Canes Venatici, acknowledged by classic authors, during the imperial government of Rome. I do not mean that this classification is accurately observed by all the cynegetical and popular authorities; but it may be traced, more or less clearly, in the writings of Gratius, Seneca, Artemidorus, Oppian, Claudian, and Julius Firmicus.

The Faliscian notes a triple division in the fragment of his Halieutic poem: