[ "Reuben and Sholto Percy," / Percy Anecdotes ]
The "Percy brothers," identified on the title page of this work as "Brothers of the Benedictine Monastery, Mont Benger" were in fact the English journalists and editors Thomas Byerly and Joseph Robertson.
The Percy Anecdotes was first published in 1821; the text below is taken from volume 9 ("Instinct - Ingenuity") of the 20-volume 1826 edition published in London by J. Cumberland.
There are a number of references to Newfoundlands in this volume; the first is taken with only minor alteration of the first sentence from A History of the Island of Newfoundland (1819) by the Rev. Lewis Amadeus Anspach (discussed separately in this section of The Cultured Newf).
This entry is presented under the heading "Instinct: The Newfoundland Dog":
One of the magistrates of Harbour-Grace, in Newfoundland, had an old dog of the regular web-footed species peculiar to this island who was in the habit of carrying a lantern before his master at night, as steadily as the most attentive servant could do, stopping short when his master made a stop, and proceeding when he saw him disposed to follow him. If his master was absent from home, on the lantern being fixed to his mouth, and the command given, "Go, fetch thy master," he would immediately set off and proceed directly to the town, which lay at the distance of more than a mile from the place of his master's residence; he would then stop at the door of every house which he knew that his master was in the habit of frequenting, and laying down his lantern, growl and strike the door, making all the noise in his power until it was opened; if his master was not there, he would proceed farther, in the same manner, until he had found him. If he had accompanied him only once into a house, this was sufficient to induce him to take that house in his round. (p. 29)
A story about the long-simmering animosity between John FitzGibbon, an Irish lawyer and politician who served as Attorney-General for Ireland (and later Lord Chancellor) and John Philpot Curran, an Irish politician, lawyer, and judge. The two men tangled in court and insulted each other, and even fought a duel, though neither man was injured. But even that did not satisfy FitzGibbon, who was known for the determined pursuit of revenge. He made Curran's legal life as difficult as possible, and even cost him most of his clients. FitzGibbon even got his Newfoundland into the act, though that didn't go quite as he hoped:
The incidents attendant upon this disagreement, were at times ludicrous in the extreme. One day, when it was known that Curran was to make an elaborate argument in Chancery, Lord Clare, (the title of Fitzgibbon) brought a large Newfoundland dog upon the bench with him; and during the progress of the argument, he lent his ear much more to the dog than to the barrister. At last the Chancellor seemed to lose all regard to decency; he turned himself quite aside, in the most material part of the case, and began in full court to fondle the animal. Curran stopped short: "Go on, go on, Mr. Curran," said Lord Clare. "Oh!" replied Mr. Curran, "I beg a thousand pardon, my lord; I really took it for granted that your lordship was employed in consultation." (61 - 62)
Another entry referencing a Newf is headed "Friendship A Guiding Star." It will later be used by Edward Jesse in his 1846 work Anecdotes of Dogs.
M. Blaine, in his "Canine Pathology," relates, that a gentleman brought from Newfoundland a dog of the true breed, which he gave to his brother, who resided in the neighbourhood of Thames Street; but who having no other means of keeping the animal except in close confinement, prefered sending him to a friend living in Scotland. The dog, who had been originaily disembarked at Thames Street, was again re-embarked at the same place, on board a Berwick smack. During his stay in London, he had never travelled half a mile from the spot where he was landed. He had, however, contracted an affection for his master; and when he arrived in Scotland, his regret at the separation induced him to take the first opportunity of escaping; and though he certainly had never before travelled one yard of the road, yet he found his way back in a very short time to his former residence in London, but in so exhausted a state, that he had only time to express his joy at seeing his master, and expired within an hour after his arrival. (pp. 93 - 94)
Another Newf-related anecdote, also used to illustrate "Instinct," is entitled "Duty Before Revenge," and is also later used by Edward Jesse:
A gentleman residing in the City of London, was going one afternoon to his country cottage, accompanied by Cæsar, a favourite Newfoundland dog, when he recollected that he had the key of a cellaret which would be wanted at home during his absence. Having accustomed his dog to carry things, he sent him back with the key; the dog executed his commission, and afterwards rejoined his master, who discovered that he had been fighting, and was much torn about the head. The cause he afterwards learned, on his return to town in the evening. Cæsar while passing with the key, was attacked by a ferocious butcher's dog, against whom he made no resistance, but tore himself away, without relinquishing his charge. After delivering the key in town, he returned the same way, and on reaching the butcher's shop from which he had been so rudely assailed, he stopped and looked out for his antagonist; the dog sallied forth; Cæsar attacked him with a fury which nothing but revenge for past wrongs could have animated: nor did he quit the butcher's dog until he had laid him dead at his feet. (p. 115)
The final Newf entry is entitled "Taking the Water":
A Newfoundland dog kept at the ferry-house at Worcester, was famous for having at different periods saved three persons from drowning; and so fond was he of water, that he seemed to consider any disinclination to it in other dogs, as an insult on the species. If a dog was left on the bank by its master, under the idea that it would be obliged to follow the boat across the river, which is narrow, and if, as was not uncommon, it stood yelping at the bottom of the steps, unwilling to take the water, the old dog would go down to him, and with a satirical growl, as if in mockery, take him by the back of the neck, and throw him into the river. (p. 126)
That last anecdote just above appeared in Sporting Magazine's December 1818 issue, and will later appear in Thomas Brown's Biographical Sketches and Authentic Anecdotes of Dogs (1829); and in American Phrenological Journal (1869).