AUGUST 12, 1864
In the month of August, 1864, I was visiting at the country residence of my wife’s mother, in the State of Rhode Island. Her oldest son, Alfred Nicholas Brown, was at that time staying at the New York Hotel in the City of New York. His younger sister was the owner of, and had with her at her mother’s residence, an intelligent little French poodle of a most affectionate and sensitive nature. He suffered from the effects of the summer heat and was very much annoyed by the attacks of house flies, and in order, as far as possible, to avoid both annoyances, spent the greater part of his time in a dark closet adjoining the sleeping room occupied by my wife and myself.
“Tommy” was an unusually quiet dog, seldom barking, and had never been known to howl save when certain notes of the piano were touched. About three o’clock in the morning of the 12th of August we heard a most plaintive and sorrowful howl from “Tommy” in his closet, which continued until he was stopped by being spoken to. At half past seven o’clock, the same morning, while the family were at breakfast a telegram was handed to the mother, announcing the death of her son at the New York Hotel at ten minutes past three o’clock that morning.
The fact of “Tommy’s” howl had been mentioned previously, and I am not quite certain if it was discussed, but have been informed that at least one member of the family had insisted that it was the forerunner of bad news. The bad news undoubtedly followed, but did “Tommy” obtain it in advance, and if he did, how? Or was his unusual howl an accidental coincidence?