When some proud Son of man returns to Earth,
Unknown to Glory, but upheld by Birth,
The sculptorâs art exhausts the pomp of woe,
And storied urns record who rests below;
When all is done upon the Tomb is seen,
Not what he was, but what he should have been:
But the poor Dog, in life the firmest friend,
The first to welcome, foremost to defend,
Whose honest heart is still his Masters own,
Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone,
Unhonourâd falls, unnoticâd all his worth,
Denyâd in heaven the Soul he held on earth:
While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven,
And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven.
Oh man! thou feeble tenant of an hour,
Debasâd by slavery, or corrupt by power,
Who knows thee well must quit thee with disgust,
Degraded mass of animated dust!
Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat,
Thy smiles hypocrisy, thy words deceit,
By nature vile, ennobled but by name,
Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame.
Ye! who behold perchance this simple urn
Pass on, it honours none you wish to mourn:
To mark a friendâs remains these stones arise,
I never knew but one â and here he lies.
(Lord Byron: âInscription on the Monument of a Newfoundland Dogâ)1
Byronâs lines, written to commemorate the death of a favourite dog, Boatswain [see Figure 1], who died of rabies in autumn 1808, are a parody of the form they seem to emulate: that of the epitaph. The âInscriptionâ subverts the epitaphic function of praising the dead by discoursing instead on the degraded nature of Man, and undermines the traditional consolation of epitaphs by questioning the immortality of the soul. It uses a composition in the form of an epitaph to protest about the role of epitaphs and the way they are composed. Written by a twenty-year-old nobleman who is himself âUnknown to glory, but upheld by birthâ, the poem sets itself at odds with the epitaphic convention of family loyalty by having the poet denigrate his own kind.
While, however, the poemâs parodic stance owes much to Popean or Swiftian âSaeva Indignatioâ, the âInscriptionâ is not wholly consistent in its parody and does not conform throughout to Augustan methods.2 In contrast to the cultivated distance and universalizing tone of his models, Byron uses the âIâ of his last line to make a point of revealing the poemâs personal relevance to the author, and ârealâ, individual, feelings of loss, loneliness and bitterness seem to break through the misanthropic surface. Equally disconcerting to Byronâs original readers was the poemâs coupling of a serious and apparently personally embittered tone with the fact that it is about an animal: what the âInscriptionâ does not do is to mock its own feelings for an apparently inappropriate object, nor â given that its predominant vein is ironical and its subject is an animal â ironize enough. The poem has in abundance the antithetical quality which was taken to be the predominant characteristic of Romanticism by Isaiah Berlin in the 1960s; the questioning of its own frame of reference which Jerome McGann identified as a key issue of the movement in the 1980s, and the preoccupation with oppositional polarity which Anne Mellor identified in 1993 as the obsession of âmasculineâ Romanticism.3
Besides its reworking of Augustan models, the poem adds to its deliberate incongruousness by making use of two specific works from other very different traditions of writing. It unpacks Thomas Grayâs âElegy Written in a Country Church-Yardâ (1751) by means of the Earl of Rochesterâs âSatyr against Reason and Mankindâ (1674â75), and so brings to bear upon a founding example of eighteenth-century elegiac sensibility the seventeenth-century English culmination of the long classical and Renaissance tradition of theriophily: a philosophical stance which satirizes human pretensions by reminding us of our kinship with animals, and contrasts overweening human folly with animalsâ instinctive wisdom.
This chapter explores the theriophilic tradition as a way not only of grounding Byronâs poem but also of delineating some of the literary and philosophical âanimalâ precedents available to other writers in the Romantic period. This approach to the âInscriptionâ is one of three readings of the poem which relate to its three forms of publication in Byronâs lifetime, each of which markedly varied its reception: first as a monumental inscription; second as a contribution to a friendâs miscellany of verses, and third as part of a deliberately-provocative, politically-motivated addendum to one of Byronâs best-selling poems. Each of these readings also offers a means of exploring a wider background to Romantic-period animals in general. The first, as noted, serves to introduce a history of thought about animals, around the theme of theriophily and animal epitaphs; the second discusses issues of friendship, relationship and pet-keeping, and the third explores some of the political deployments of animals in the Romantic period, as a prelude to a fuller consideration of this topic in Chapter Three.
Gray and Rochester
Byronâs many verse and prose references to Grayâs Elegy show his close knowledge of and respect for the poem:
Had Gray written nothing but his Elegy â high as he stands â I am not sure that he would not stand higher â â it is the Corner-stone of his Glory â without it his Odes would be insufficient for his fame.4
Byronâs âInscriptionâ demonstrates its expectation that the reader will be familiar with the âElegyâ by allusions to key phrases in Grayâs work: Grayâs âstoried urnâ (line 41) is used unchanged, while his âpomp of powerâ (33) becomes Byronâs âpomp of woeâ, and the âunhonourâd deadâ of Grayâs poem (57) are recalled in Byronâs by the dog who âunhonourâd fallsâ. Byronâs punning transformation of Grayâs âanimated bustâ (41) into the âanimated dustâ of line 18 introduces a reference of a type frequent in Byron to the way in which God, having formed Adam out of earth, breathed life or soul (anima) into him. The entire concept of the worthlessness of monuments to the proud but undistinguished is drawn by Byron from Grayâs contrast between the âtrophiesâ, the âpealing anthemâ which âswells the note of praiseâ, the soothing âFlatteryâ (43), and the âuseful toil, / homely joys, and destiny obscureâ (28â29) of the country poor. Byronâs nobleman, âUnknown to glory but upheld by birthâ, is the obverse of Grayâs âvillage-Hampdenâ, âmute inglorious Miltonâ and âCromwell guiltless of his countryâs bloodâ (57, 59 and 60) whose achievement of âgloryâ was prevented by their humble birth; and Byronâs dog as a âkindred bruteâ parodies Grayâs appeal to a âkindred spiritâ in the reader/friend (96). Finally, the apparently personal tone of the last couplet of the âInscriptionâ gains meaning if it is read in the light of the closing Epitaph of the âElegyâ, so that Byronâs lines are seen to play only half-ironically upon the implications of Grayâs passionate use of the word âfriendâ: placing Byronâs dog, as his sole âfriendâ, in the same relation to the poet that Gray claims for himself to the âYouth, to Fortune and to Fame unknownâ, who âgainâd from Heaven, âtwas all he wishâd, a friendâ (124).
Although he seems to have expected his readers to pick up his allusions to Grayâs âElegyâ, it is unlikely that Byron also assumed them to be familiar with his other major source for the âInscriptionâ. Don Juan VIII. 252 alludes to Rochesterâs âSatyr against Reason and Mankindâ, and there are other references to âWilmotâsâ verse in an 1806 poem and in Byronâs letters and journals, but a taste for Rochester seems to have been very much a minority one in this period.5 These references place the âInscriptionâ within a theriophilic tradition which â despite the work of Boas â has not been much noticed or studied in English culture, although it was common in classical discourse, was revived in Renaissance and seventeenth-century French writing, and came into Restoration English literature from this source.
The âInscriptionâ is the most compact and complete of Byronâs expressions in this theriophilic tradition which he shares with Rochester.6 Here, for comparison, is Rochesterâs opening:
Were I not (who to my cost already am
One of those strange, prodigious Creatures, Man)
A Spirit free, to choose for my own share,
What Case of Flesh and Blood I pleasâd to weare,
Iâd be a Dog, a Monkey, or a Bear,
Or anything but that vain Animal
Who is so proud of being rational.7
Byronâs poem shows this part of its ancestry not only through the contrast it shares with Rochester between noble beast and debased Man (âBeasts are in their degree, / As wise at least, and better far than he,â Rochester 115â6), and the way it echoes Rochesterâs emphasis on the misplaced pride and âvanityâ of humankind (Byronâs âman, vain insectâ and Rochesterâs âvain animalâ), but also through their common emphasis on the uniquely human evil trait of betraying oneâs own kind.8 So Byronâs âThy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat, / Thy smiles hypocrisy, thy words deceit!â compresses Rochesterâs lines 135â8:
But man with Smiles, Embraces, Friendship, Praise,
Most humanly his Fellowâs Life betraies,
With voluntary Pains his Works distress,
Not through Necessity but Wantonness.9
Byronâs allusion to slavery echoes Rochesterâs reference (176â8) to humans who tyrannize over animals while having the same status as slaves:
Who swolne with selfish vanity, devise,
False freedomes, holy Cheats, and formal Lyes
Over their fellow Slaves to tyrannize,
and the two works share a preoccupation with the immortality of the human and animal soul which, as I show below, is characteristic of theriophilic traditions going back more than two thousand years. Byronâs bitterness about the denial to the dog of âthe soul he held on earthâ, and about the claims for Manâs âsole exclusive heavenâ, take their cue from the theological justifications of Rochesterâs satirized churchman â the âformal Band and Beardâ (46) â who takes the poet to task in lines 60â65:
âBlest, glorious Man! to whom alone kind Heavân,
An everlastin...