Oct. 85, 1888.J 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



269 



SHAKESPEARE AS A BREEDER AND TRAINER. 



"Each change of many-colored life he drew; 

 Exhausted worlds, and then imagined new." 



"I will a plain unvarnished tale deliver." 



WHILE it may be deemed highly improbable at the 

 present, advanced state of intellectual activity, that 

 anything very new or strange can be presented to a thirsty 

 anil inquiring public concerning the "Sweet Swan of Avon," 

 and that by an obscure country writer, nevertheless a perusal 

 of the strangely authenticated facts hereinafter set forth may 

 at least have the result of stimulating younger and better 

 read people to a more extended research in the direction I 

 have briefly pointed out. 



The cryptogram of Ignatius Donelly has had one, good 

 effect at least; it has drawn increased attention and more 

 indefatigable research to, and into, Shakespeare's immortal 

 plays. Many excellencies and accomplishments have been 

 found in that great genius. Nothing he touched but to 

 adorn. One gay and brillian t writer has conclusively proved 

 that he was a devoted and accomplished billiard player, for 

 in "Antony and Cleopatra," Act II., Scene 5, he writes, 

 "Let us to billiards." In "King Lear," Act I., Scene 1, he 

 exclaims, "My cue is villainous." In the "Merry Wives of 

 Windsor," Act III., Scene 3, be writes, and very justly too, 

 "Remember you your cue/' and in "Coriolauus" expresses his 

 decided preference) for the cushions of the well-remembered 

 "Michael Phelan." Act III,, Scene 1: "Let them have cush- 

 ions by you ;"whilein Act IV., Scene 3, he exclaims in triumph, 

 "I put it in the pocket," showing his fondness for fif teen- 

 ball pool. So. too, another painstaking and accomplished 

 writer has proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that Shake- 

 speare was well posted up in the mysteries of that intensely 

 fascinating, though slightly delusive game, called "draw 

 poker." Henry V.: "I would give all my fame for a pot. " 

 King Lear: "1 cannot draw." Hamlet in his advice to the 

 players: "I cannot draw," and also in that sound doctrine, 

 "Beware of entrance into a jack pot, but being in, bear'st 

 that the opposed may beware of thee." Act V., Scene 1, 

 "Much Ado About Nothing." "As under privilege of age to 

 brag." I am sure he was fond of sparring, for in the "Two 

 Gentlemen of Verona," Act II., Scene 1, he talks of "putting 

 on the gloves." 



But these, after all, are effeminate accomplishments. 

 Many a youth might play a very successful game of billiards 

 or draw poker, and yet not be able to tramp a mile through 

 the woodlands, or hit the side of a barn at fifteen paces, and 

 it is therefore with a pardonable feeling of satisfaction that 

 I shall make known to my readers the gratifying discovery 

 of what an incomparable sportsman the poet really was. 

 Scattered all through his works are. it is well known, un- 

 numbered beautiful passages descriptive of his love of woods 

 and water, not a play but what has many such, but while 

 I shall briefly touch upon a few as illustrative of my mean- 

 ing. I shall later on call attention to one play in which the 

 qualities of Shakespeare as a trainer and breeder are conspic- 

 uously set forth. 



That the land of his birth stands forth pre-eminent for all 

 manly physical exercises, goes without saying. Well known 

 it is that Shakespeare in his early life paid dearly for his 



In "Midsummer Night's Dream." Act IV., Scene 1, we find 

 his incomparable description "of the music of the hounds, 

 bred of the Spartan kind." Act HI., Scene 2, he mentions 

 "wild geese that the creeping fowler eye;" and in Act V., 

 Scene 2, he cries, "Mark— O, dainty duck— quail." Showing 

 his delight at a successful shot, and his intense fondness for 

 sampling the game of the country. He delighted in filling 

 his game bag with various kinds of game. 



In "Taming of the Shrew," Act I., Scene J, how confidently 

 he speaks. "Trust me, I take him for the better dog;" show- 

 ing the reliance he placed upon his own judgment. Agaiu 

 he adds, "See how he loved his hounds." While in the very 

 opening of the play, desirous of entertaining his guest, he 

 mentions: "Wilt thou walk, or wilt thou ride, or wilt thou 

 course, or wilt thou hunt!'" The region around Stratford- 

 on-Avou in Shakespeare's time must have been very much 

 like the grounds round Fire Island Inlet, and South Oyster 

 Bay, in the times when the, "Eire Island — Ana" first made 

 their appearance. 



Observe, I pray you, in "Macbeth," Act III., Scene 1, how 

 he calls them off as if from a catalogue, "Hounds, grey- 

 hounds, spaniels, water dogs and setters." Notice in "King 

 Kieh.utl III.," Act V., Scene 3, how he reproves the ardor of 

 some youthful friend who would not give the bird any 

 chance to get away and shot so quickly that he "punched 

 him full of deadly holes." First part of "King Henry VI.," 

 Act I., Scene 5, " Where is the best place to make our bat- 

 tery next -"' Evidently he was "laying off" in the Avon for 

 the toothsome mallard and the juicy canvasback, and 

 though the hasty glance I have cast over his works does 

 not, so far as I am aware, absolutely assert it, there can be 

 no doubt so skilful a sportsman as Shakespeare, used the 

 very best of tools and evidently shot with a breechloader. 

 In tact 1 am just reminded that in "Othello" he speaks of 

 "the imminent deadly breech." Nothing could be plainer. 



Third part of "Kiug Henry VI.," Act I., Scene 4, he ex- 

 claims, "Ay, ay, so strives the woodcock with the gin!" 

 "gin" being evidently a misprint for gun. In the "Two 

 Gentlemen of Verona," Act II., Scene 3, note the manly 

 generous style of shooting, where he walks the bird up and 

 will not let his dog flush him: "Stalk on! stalk on! the fowl 

 .sets." Again in "Measure for Measure," Act L," Scene 5, 

 "This is the point," i. c, "Your shot, sir, of which I have 

 not the slightest intention to deprive you." Act II., Scene 3, 

 "We kill the fowl in season." Evidently he had not forgot- 

 ten his first pardonable youthful indiscretion with the deer, 

 and he was determined not to be caught again. 



In "Midsummer Night's Dream," Act I., Scene 1, he natu- 

 rally and justly calls his shooting companion's attention to 

 the dog's misbehavior: "This fellow doth not stand upon 

 point" (breaks to shot); while in "Twelfth Night, or What 

 you Will," how triumphantly and joyously he breaks out in 

 praise of his favorite as being a grand dog, Act I., Scene 1: 

 'Til be sworn thou art; thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, thy 

 actions, thy spirit, do give thee five-fold blazon."* There, was 

 a dog fit for any one to shoot over. Observe how specifically 

 he calls attention to his good points aud names them one by 

 one. This passage truly confirms what I had some time ago 

 suspected, that Shakespeare had evidently judged dogs, not 

 only on the bench, but in the field, and a certain interest 

 „ attaches to the quotation, because while pondering over it 

 fondness tor deer. His youth, his* pecuniary circumstances and trying to fathom its depth,! was led to follow up the 



at that time, forbade his paying that attention to dogs, which 

 he was able to devote later on, when success had crowned his 

 efforts. He felt certain the sensible and proper thing to 

 do would be to improve the breed. Captious critics may 

 feel disposed to proclaim that dog training at that time was 

 not invented, but investigation and research show that 

 spaniels were first taught to set in the reign of Edward II., 

 and that this fact was also mentioned in a MS. treatise by 

 the grand huntsman of that monarch, so long ago as A. D. 

 1309; and again, that Henry Percy, Duke of Northumber- 

 land, in A. D. 1335, first systematically broke in setting dogs. 

 This effectually disposes of the question, though a singular 

 confirmation appeals to me even while 1 write these words. 

 Stretched out on the floor of my sanctum lies a pure spotless 

 white setter dog of cerulean pedigree, a nephew of a very 

 celebrated dog called List, mentioned verbatim, et literatim, 

 et pitnciwitim, in Hamlet, Act I.. Scene 5 — "List, List, Oh 

 List." Aud as I propose in this treatise to give authority for 

 all my conclusions, imperfectly expressed though they may 

 be, I will add that I have consulted two copies of Shakespeare 

 in my library; one, the Johnson and Steven edition, with 

 character portraits of Mrs. Siddons, Inchbold, Miss Farren, 

 Mr. Maekliu, Garrick, Kemble, et alias, in 12 volumes, pub- 

 lished in Loudon, 1788: the other, "his edition of Shakes- 

 peare by Nicholas Rowe," in 1827. 



To begin at the beginning as tending to strengthen and 

 fortify r the announcement and positiou I have taken in re- 

 lation to the many sided accomplishments of this remark- 

 able man, I could call attention to the admirable opinions 

 expressed by the "Bard . of Avon," upon all conceivable 

 sporting pastimes, which even to this day remain un- 

 challenged, and are of universal adoption. Look over the 

 various opinions expressed on that most delightful of sports 

 — angling, and for the comfort and delectation of those 

 proud, boasting mortals, who thank God "they never took a 

 trout with a worm," and who probably never took one any 

 how. see the "great master's" private opinion in "Much Ado 

 About Nothing," w'here he affirms— Act III., Scene 2: "The 

 pleasant's angling is to see the fish cut with her golden oars 

 the silver stream and greedily devour the treacherous bait." 

 Also Act II., Scene 3: "Bait the hook well [f. C put on your 

 worm scientifically], the fish will bite." Let "Piseco" thank 

 God and take courage. 



Observe also Ms familiarity with glass ball shooting, and 

 the excellence attained therein. "King Richard II.," Act IV., 



Give me that glass" (ball, of course, un- 

 The umpire had hastily cried "No ball!" but is 



Scene 1: "Mark! 

 derstood). 



immediately corrected, "For see, there it is cracked in a 

 hundred shivers," showing, past controversy, that he had 

 held "dead on." 



First part of "King Henry IV.," Act II., Scene!, he speaks 

 of Douglas admiringly as a man "that rides at high speed, 

 and with his pistol kills a swallow flying," praising the 

 dexterity of one who could perform such a feat, imitated 

 even at the present day by Dr. Carver and Buffalo Bill in 

 their wild western shows, only they use a rifle or shotgun. 

 In the same play, not. long after, he speaks of 'a thousand 

 blue caps," showing that pigeon shooting from the trap, at 

 blue rocks, was then in vogue, though it is evident that 

 Shakespeare, from the casual mention made by him, did 

 not, as might be naturally expected, admire this kind of 

 sport, but vastly preferred glass balls. 



In "Kiug Henry V.," Act III., Scene 5, he speaks of an "an- 

 cient Pistol," evidently referring to an old time favorite Of 

 his, with which he had frequently put in fine work in the 

 shooting gallery, in" Hamlet, ' ' Act I. , Scene 3, he makes con 

 temptuous reference to the pot hunters, as he does on other 

 occasions, "Springes to catch woodcock with." In the very 

 last line of that noble play — "Hamlet" — he cites the old fa mil- 

 iar apothegm: "Every dog has his day," aud true and consist- 

 ent to the last says, "Go bid the soldiers shoot," showing that 

 his motto was, "In times of peace prepare for war," and 

 evincing the strong reliance he placed in making his sol- 

 diers practice at the range. 



In the second part of "King Henry IV.," I confess I was 

 startled at the discovery I made. I could scarcely believe 



train of thought suggested to its successful conclusion. 

 Notice, as I have before stated, Shakespeare's manv-sided 

 accomplishments, hisloveof nature, his magnificent descrip- 

 tions of scenery, his multiplied accounts of game of every 

 description; how, when and where to capture them; his ard- 

 ent love for man's faithful friend, the dog, and thinking 

 over briefly Donelly's alleged wonderful discovery, I said 

 reflectively to myself, I will look over his writings and see if 

 I can find embodied therein the result of his wisdom and 

 experience. Of course unnumbered allusions can probably 

 be found to those "who work their way with hound ana 

 horn to drive the fallow deer," but if I can find such results 

 recorded in a single play, and evidently so recorded for the 

 double purpose of vindicating his fame as a fine sportsman, 

 somewhat impaired at first by his youthful escapade, as well 

 as to preserve a truthful record of his real opinion — should I 

 find such a play, I should certainly consider I had proved 

 my case. 



Turn, therefore, to your Shakespeare, I entreat you cour- 

 teously, and follow me through the play of "As You Like 

 It." Observe at the very start the faintly disclosed inten- 

 tion in the very title— as you like it— in proportion, that 

 is, to your capacity for valuing dogs and their qualities as 

 developed in hunting, with an intimation gently conveyed 

 that the reader, the searcher after truth, could not fail to 

 like it. Observe how like Shakespeare to dash at once into 

 his subject. Aware of the importance of breeding as well as 

 training up his dogs in the way they r should go, he calls out 

 (Act I.. Scene 3), "Charged!" sh owing that then, as now, this 

 rather unusual and difficult act of obedience was one of the 

 first things taught. He remembered how^ in "Romeo and 

 Juliet," Act 1., Scene 4, the dog was directed to be staked to 

 the ground, so he could not move— pegged down and com- 

 pelled to remain at "Down charge" until the order "Up" — 

 the very rule i n force at the present day. In the same act 

 and scene, remark the just weight he attaches to pedigree, 

 for he advises "to breed him well;" excellence in sire and 

 dam he considered of chief importance. Act I., Scene 2, 

 "Sport ? Of what color?" plainly showing his nice discrimi- 

 nation, first as to what kind of dog his customer wanted— a 

 pointer or setter or hound; then whether any particular 

 fancy of color was to be indulged in, as regards black or 

 orange, or liver or tan. Shakespeare had his own private 

 preferences, and evidently favored black, as we learn in 

 "Othello," where he speaks of "black noses and palates," 

 though in almost the very next line he shows his freedom 

 from prejudice, and his not attaching entire prominence to 

 one particular color, by the considerate remark, "As wit or 

 fortune wild, or the destinies decree," meaning thereby that 

 a good dog might be of any color. 



Act L, Scene 4: "Alas! he is too young, yet he looks suc- 

 cessfully!" This passage evidently foreshadows an event of 

 daily occurrence. Here was one of his customers evidently 

 in want of a dog and disposed to buy one, only he feared he 

 might be too young, he would naturally thereby give more 

 trouble and be harder to manage in the field. Act I., Scene 

 4: "Yet I should bear no cross." Evidently the great 

 trainer took no stock in cross breeds, droppers must have 

 been his aversion, "keep the breeds intact and pure." (Capt. 

 Bogardus's attention is cautiously directed to this quota- 

 tion). Act I, Scene 4. By a lucky chance we learn the 

 name of one of his favorites, "O Phoebe! Phoebe! Phoebe!" 

 Younger sportsmen will take notice, Shakespeare preferred 

 a short quick sounding name and one not ending in o. 

 Naturally enough his dogs were his great favorites. How 

 could it be otherwise when he found. "Tongues in trees, 

 books in the running brooks, and good in everything." 



Act I., Scene is "Come shall we go and kill us venison?" 

 Shakespeare did not wish to pursue one. kind of game all 

 the time, his dogs needed "a let up." He must give his 

 hounds fair play, lbs wanted to capture "fur" as well as 

 "feather." Act II., Scene 2: "I'll make him find him." 

 "Do this suddenly." There is no ambiguity about this sen- 

 tence, "The Bard" evidently knew that the true way to 

 teach a dog retrieving, is after the dog has learned the 

 rudiments of his education thoroughly, then take him out 



only primarily as meaning "to fail" but secondly as referring 

 to the habits of the birds at certain seasons, to run from 

 the dog and not "lie to them," under which circumstances, as 

 Shakespeare had probably found to his cost, they are very 

 hard to bring to bag. 



Act II., Scene 3: "To overcome, the tony prizer of the 

 humorous Duke." Shakespeare's dog, probably Phoebe be- 

 fore alluded to— it couldn't have been List, he was too good 

 a dog— had failed to carry off first prize at the bench show, 

 and the successful Duke had poked fun at him, and taunted 

 his dog with being deficient in bone. 



Act III., Scene 5: "The best thing in him is his complexion, 

 yet for his years he's tall, his legs but are so so, and yet 'tis 

 well, a little riper and more lusty red." How wonderfully 

 true to nature! 



Will any good judge of a dog attempt to controvert this 

 description? See how carefully the great master had looked 

 that dog all over. His color seemed to strike Shakespeare's 

 fancy more than his shape, at the same time he did not wish 

 to seem hypercritical. Doubtless he would have chosen a 

 deeper red, more of a mahogany color, a good-sized dog, 

 rather unhandy to stow away in the dog cart; this clog was 

 rather too leggy. Shakespeare would have preferred his 

 legs probably straighter, with better hocks, well bent stifles, 

 and muscular, but not heavy haunches; still as an all- 

 round dog he might do, though not a good enough animal 

 for a prize winner. 



Act II., Scene 7: Still pursuing ourresearches through the 

 same play we find his opinion tersely expressed, "Yet I am 

 inland bred!" showing the bard's decided preference for the 

 native English setter, in contradistinction to other breeds 

 that were contending for position, viz., the Irish and the 

 Russian. 



Act III., Scene 1: "Bring him dead." Here we have the 

 ancient and ceremonious command modernized as "Find 

 dead bird," but this apparently brief command proves very 

 conclusively that Shakespeare was well aware of the great 

 importance of making his dog retrieve, and broke all his 

 dogs to "retrieve dead." I am at a loss to account for this 

 quality of his dogs having been overlooked by his English 

 reviewers. 



Act III., Scene 2, "What did he when thou sawesthim; 

 How looked he? Where was he? Where remains be? How 

 parted he with thee?" 



Shakespeare could not escape from the annoyance common 

 to all dog men of having their four-footed favorites scuttle 

 off some times, the best of dogs will sometimes ran away. 

 Phoebe had, I am afraid, broken away aud was scampering 

 through the merry green woods, and his master was trying 

 anxiously to recover him, for to his inquiry after his lost 

 dog the man very naturally inquires, "What were his 

 marks?" 



Act III., Scene 5, "An excellent color. Your chestnut was 

 ever the only color." Here was one of his friends, who evi- 

 dently desired a clog of another color. He, was not on the 

 lookout for an Irish red. Shakespeare probably told him, 

 "I kuew a party who has a dog would suit you," for he turns 

 around to his kennel man and says: "But why did he swear 

 he would come this morning and comes not?" 



There is nothing small or mean about William. In the true 

 spirit of a sportsman, thinking the man may deem bis 

 terms too high, and not wishiug to disappoint him, he tells 

 him of another man, and adds to the question, "Does he 

 know bis biz?" "Yes, and breaks them bravely." 



But "last scene of all that ends this strange, eventful his- 

 tory," is where the grand old poet bewails the loss of his pets. 

 Hl-fortune had crept in on him apace, and many T a kennel 

 m&u, by sad experience, can sympathize with hini. Troilus 

 "had his brains dashed out by a club" (the infernal dog 

 killers got ahold of him). Leauder perished, "seized with 

 cramps." Hero of Sestos "fell a victim to worms." But 

 why continue the melancholy recital? I have briefly at- 

 tempted to draw attention to a hitherto unnoticed accom- 

 plishment of Shakespeare's. No single writer that I am 

 aware of has heretofore made the strange discovery. I leave- 

 to younger and abler heads and hands the pleasant task of 

 making fresh discoveries; let them fall to with pen and 

 paper and say of me, "Thou marshals't me the way I was 

 going; and such an instrument I was to use." And so, with 

 no charge for my kind offer, as you like it, I bid you fare- 

 well. Capt. Clayton. 



my eyes, but there it is iu plain black and white in my Nich- ! into the back yard and teach him to retrieve, by the whip, 

 olas Rowe edition. Act I., Scene 2, page 423, Sir John Fal- | firmly, though gently. This is Miles Johnson's plan, and 



You hunt coun, hence avaunt." The word i here follows a remarkable verification of the truth of my 

 en spelled with an | suggestion. Ponder this well. "And let not search and 



staff exclaims: 



"coon" in those days probably having been 

 u, or it may have been a printer's mistake/ Honest Jack 

 with all his faults didn't fancy coon hunting. 



. inquisition quail to bring again these foolish runaways. " 

 1 observe the mysterious play on the word "quail," Not 



THAT MITCHELL LETTER. 



Editor Forest and Stream - 

 In the letters of Mr. Anthony and Mr. Heath, which you 

 declined to publish last week, the former reiterated his pre- 

 vious statement that he purchased a letter he asserts he 

 knew was stolen. He enters into some remarkable reason- 

 ing to prove that at the time he bought it he knew it was 

 stolen, one yawning absurdity being that several weeks after 

 he had bought it, as he states, I applied to the persou from 

 whom he bought it for its return, while another is that two 

 years and a half after that the Sporting Life decided to give 

 up its kennel department. A man who argues like that 

 needs no annex to hold the balance of his brains. 



So long as it was Mr. Anthony's word against mine I was 

 content to leave it at that; now he has got Mr. Heath to 

 introduce himself into the case. Mr. Heath says somebody 

 tried to blackmail him with thi s Mitchell letter. 



I propose bringing both of these letter writers np to the 

 bar of public opinion in short order, and I therefore pub 

 licly challenge them to name the person who figures as the 

 unknown in their airy romances. I further challenge Mr. 

 Anthony to publish the certified copy of the, Mitchell letter 

 which he says he has. Let us see what his dear friend Mitch- 

 ell said that caused him to endeavor to protect (?) him by 

 "buying" a "stolen" letter, and uever letting him know it 

 was in his possession till he had given it back to the man he 

 had "bought" it from. Mr. Anthony must think all his 

 readers are horse marines with his free trade in stolen letters 

 and his mythical protection romances. J As. WATSON. 



"PRACTICAL" JUDGING. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



As I have a number of important things to attend to be- 

 fore I start for St. Paul on Saturday or Sunday, my reply to 

 the "reliable" of Me. Davey's letter must be held over until 

 next week or the week after. Tell "Corn Cracker" to reserve 

 his italics, small capitals, quotations, exclamations, etc., 

 until I shall have finished with Mr. Davey, The wonder is 

 that the proofreader lives, not that he allowed a number 

 of typographical errors to escape his notice. I hold "Corn 

 Cracker" responsible for the following: "By this time the 

 other dogs had become so thoroughly exhausted that they 

 made a wild rush from the sack." Instead of "exhausted" 

 read exasperated. " 'Antwerp,' who is a bit of a racing 

 man. called it a dead head." Dead heat is what I wrote. 

 Yonr compositor makes me say that I have a brother who 

 has seen "hundreds, yes thousands of dogs." 'Good dogs" is 

 correct. Chas. H. Mason. 



THE COON'S WHICKER.— I once had an experience 

 like that of your correspondent C. E. Lewis, that is, hunting 

 for a coon with a first-rate old coon dos', a hound, in an 

 orchard where we had ..heard night after night the quavering 

 note which we had been taught to believe was the cry of a 

 raccoon. And we found no coon, though we located the 

 very tree or trees from which the cry came. I cannot help 

 believing from the testimony that the raccoon does at times 

 utter a note very similar to that of the little screech owl, 

 but that It is seldom heard, and that he often gets the credit, 

 of the owl's performance. Those who ought to know say 

 that the cry of the raccoon is hoarser than the owl's. I 

 think of no one who might so certainly enlighten us as 

 "Nessmuk." Let us hear from him, — Awahsoose. 



