PRINCE BISMARCK AND HIS DOGS.
(From life photograph. )
It is said that Prince Bismarck feeds his dogs himself, and (whisper it low!) that he actually feeds them at table! No unpleasant “Off with you!” reminds his four-footed friends that they are not as men and brothers, and hence, as diners-out. Admitted to an honorable intimacy, the companions of their master’s walks and meals, the habitués of his study—they live with him on terms of mutual respect, and show by their stately bearing how truly they are dogs of distinction.
Statesmen are very apt to make friends of animals, for they realize that no intimates are so safe as those who cannot betray them—who understand, but never repeat. Daniel Webster had his favorite horses, and Randolph of Roanoke his dogs, who traveled with him wherever he went, and were served at table with clean plates, choice beefsteaks and new milk—anything less excellent than the best being, in their master’s opinion, unworthy of himself and them. Henry Fawcett had Oddo, who was promoted from the post of house-dog to be his companion, and Lord Eldon had the inimitable Pincher. The latter reached a good old age, contrary to all expectations, since in the matter of diet he lived “not wisely but too well.” In the character of a sitter he made acquaintance with Sir Edwin Landseer, who pronounced him “a very picturesque old dog, with a great look of cleverness in his face.” He figured with his master in several other portraits and drawings, was a faithful, amusing little friend, and as such was remembered by name in Lord Eldon’s will. When he died, in 1840, he was buried in a peaceful garden, where, to this day, his tombstone may be seen.
Among the powers that were, who had their pets, Peter the Great must be included—the Czar whose evil-tempered monkey was a terror to all the attendants at court, obliged as they were to endure without resenting its malice. A much more agreeable favorite was Lisette, an Italian greyhound presented to Peter by the Sultan. Once she saved a life, and her Victoria Cross is the record in history of this achievement. A poor fellow had been condemned, for some small error, to the knout. All intercession had failed, and the hour of execution was at hand, when his friends bethought them of fastening a petition to Lisette’s collar and sending her with it to the Czar. This was done, and what he had refused to his loyal subjects he granted to little Lisette. Not without reason is the skeleton of this timely advocate still preserved in the city where she lived!
The Norman kings of England were for the most part sturdy soldiers, with a passion for the chase in their leisure hours. Very naturally, therefore, such pets as they possessed came under the head of knightly belongings, and were either horse and hound or hawk. In truth, they were too stern a race to spend much time in endearments of any kind. We can hardly imagine them tending a “fringie-pawe,” or toying with “spaniels gentle.” The aristocratic greyhound was their favorite instead, and they spared no pains to develop its peculiar excellencies. Old Wynken de Worde tells us in a rather bald rhyme, that the thorough-bred greyhound should be:
Headed lyke a snake,
Neckyed lyke a drake,