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The article below appeared in Country Life Illustrated,
August 21st 1897. These images are the only known photographs of Jonathan Barcroft.
He was handling "White Bob." The article
has been retyped for the convenience of the viewer.
Sheepdog Trial at Tring
by "Birkdale"
ANECDOTES of canine intelligence have unfortunately acquired a
somewhat evil reputation. The demands which many of these narratives
make on the listener's credulity have been so boundless that "dog
stories" are frequently placed in the same category as "fishing
tales," both standing out as proverbial examples of exaggeration and
"economy of the trust."
But a clever and imaginative mind would be necessary to invent
more striking or more wonderful examples of the trained sagacity of
the dog than the remarkable exhibitions which those who were present
at the recent Sheepdog trials in Tring Park saw with their own eyes.
The Maltese Cross
These trials are annually held in connection with the show at
the Tring Agricultural Association in Lord Rothschild's park.
Although very great risk is undertaken by the committee in securing
sheep suitable for the trials, and also in arranging for the
attendance of the best dogs, their enterprise is certainly rewarded
by the very great interest shown by their patrons. Every
agricultural association in the country ought to arrange at least
one trial every season, for in no other way can the fine working
qualities of a properly trained Sheepdog be shown in public. At
Llangollen—where, in 1889, the Queen attended the annual trials and
personally congratulated the shepherds on the sagacity shown by
their dogs—it is no unusual occurrence to see an attendance of
several thousands, and the display of enthusiasm shown during the
working of the best dogs would surprise any but those able to
thoroughly appreciate the value of the performances. The exact
character of the trials varies considerably, for whereas in some
cases the run up to the sheep is very short, it is, now and then,
quite half a mile. Again the shepherd is not, in all trials, allowed
to assist his dog at close quarters, except at the final pen. At
Tring, however, assistance was allowed after the dog had driven the
sheep through the open artificial fence. This was rendered almost
necessary by the difficult character of the succeeding obstacle,
hurdles being erected in the shape of a Maltese cross, through each
length of which the sheep had to be driven. On reaching this the dog
was called by his master, and, carefully placed, was directed at
close quarters—a distinct advantage, especially when the wethers, as
was the case more than once at Tring, proved refractory. The trials
are wonderfully easy to follow, their great feature being the proof
of perfect control exercised over the dog by the shepherd. At Tring,
a course of some 1,200 yards, including the run up of close on a
quarter of a mile, had been mapped out on the following lines. The
judges and workers were stationed on an eminence overlooking a
dingle and wood, the latter close on 600 yards away. Here the sheep—wethers
bought of Lord Derby expressly for the trails—were penned and were
released in threes as required, each dog having this number
allotted. The signal of their release being notifed the officials by
the waving of a flag, the judge, Mr. R. S. Piggin, of Long Eaton,
Notts, called up a worker and his dog.
The sheep could, of course, be easily recognised on the opposite
side of the dingle, and, at a signal from the worker, the dog starts to
find them. An untrained dog on being shown the sheep would, most likely,
go in a bee-line for them. Not so our trial dog. He bears off to the
right, guided by the shrill whistle of his worker, occasionally turning
to watch for a signal. "Hie to'em, la-a-d," shouts the worker, and,
rounding the sheep in perfect style, he drives them to the first
boundary of the trial ground, a red flag—several hundred yards from
where they were released—in the direction of the judge. One wilder than
the rest breaks away, but a whistle in a different key to the previous
one draws the attention of the sagacious animal to the runaway, and he
bounds after him; and, once more getting his charges together, drives
them on the right side of the flag. There is now a fairly straight run
to the next flag, and, with a signal to hurry them on, the dog wastes no
time in getting the wethers up to the first awkward obstacle, two large
hurdles with an opening between them, through which the sheep must be
driven. Here is some pretty work. Two of the sheep stand with their
backs to the opening, whilst a third attempts to butt his driver.
"Steady, boy," from the worker brings the dog to the ground, where he
lies with eyes on the sheep and ears on the alert for further signal. A
whistle gives him the necessary hint, and, round to the right or the
left, as the case may be, he eventually succeeds in driving one sheep
through. The others quickly follow amid the cheers of the spectators,
who now commence to appreciate the character of the work. The shepherd
here leaves his station by the judges, and, taking off his hat, stands
within easy reach of The Maltese Cross, and from there directs his dog.
The sheep are fairly cornered, and although one may succeed in
getting by the shepherd standing with arms outstretched, the shout
"fetch 'em, la-a-d," is sufficient for the dog, and the three are again
at one end of the first run of the cross. One stealthily ventures along,
and, by a little close attention on the part of the dog, the others are
induced to follow. the signal to turn them is then given, and there is
but little difficulty in driving them through the other run. The course
is now clear for the final pen, three hurdles placed in the shape of a
triangle with an opening through which the sheep must be driven. Having
got so far, the sheep evidently wonder what is coming next, and the very
greatest care must be taken that they are not driven beyond the pen and
thus into open ground once more. Encouraged by his worker, the dog
brings them to the mouth of the pen and then crouches, awaiting further
signals.
Brown Bob and His Master
Very great patience must here be exercised, both by the worker and
his dog. The sheep. naturally suspicious, become alarmed, and although
quite close to the opening, refuse to notice it. One attempts to stroll
away, but a whistle sends the dog after him, and the three are once more
in the mouth of the pen. Escape is evidently futile, and the refractory
one puts his head into the opening. There is
A Critical Moment
now great excitement, and the worker, wildly waving his arms—windmill
fashion—signals his dog to approach more closely. The sagacious animal
comes cautiously up, and literally compels the sheep to pen. The worker
waves his hand to the judges, the time is taken, and the trial over.
It may as well here be explained that although a time allowance is
invariably fixed, a dog is not called in on its expiration providing he
is doing good work. He can, however, be called in any time if detected
committing a flagrant error. Of the eleven entries, all but four turned
up, Mr. Jonathan Barcroft—the best known worker in the world, his dogs
having won over 200 prizes—bringing a team of four all the way from
Scout Moor, Bury, Lancashire. Included in the team were Brown Bob,
winner of the big stake and Lord Trevor's Cup at Llangollen in the
previous week, and White Bob, the Old English Sheepdog. Although he did
not obtain the first prize, White Bob's performance was far and away the
cleverest of all the competitors.
Bob is a veteran. He is eleven years old, and has the distinction of
having won the gold medal when pitted against the most expert performers
on the Continent at a series of trials recently held in Germany. "He is
getting on," says his master, "but he is as fast and clever and his eyes
and ears are as good as ever," and certainly Bob has worn well. Indeed,
so good was it, that, though the trials have been generally described
above, it is quite worth while to devote a few lines to the telling of
his wonderful sagacity. Watch him when his turn comes. While the
preliminaries of getting the sheep into position are in progress, Bob is
sitting by his master's side, to all appearance quite unconcerned and an
uninterested spectator of what is going forward. With his wise old head
cocked on one side, he seems to be deep in thought. He is so
indescribably wise, that, for all we know, he may be wondering why his
master recently subjected him to the unwonted indignity of a muzzle, an
infliction to which on his own hills he is entirely unaccustomed; or,
goodness knows, he may be reflecting on the decline of agriculture, and
the effect that it will have on the future prospects of sheep-dogging as
a canine profession. Anyhow, he appears to be quite lost to the outside
world for the present; but make no mistake, Bob is emphatically "all
there," and when the signal is received that the sheep are in position,
and the judge says to Bob's master "Are you ready?" and, receiving an
affirmative reply, gives the word to "Go!" Bob is off like an arrow from
a bow, away down the steep hill and up the other side. There is no lack
of interest now—he is as keen as mustard. But the sheep are out of his
sight, and he is going too far to the right. There is a short, sharp
whistle from Mr. Barcroft, unintelligible to the lookers on, but
perfectly understood by Bob, who alters his course in accordance with
the instruction that the whistle conveys to him, and pitches on the
sheep with unerring instinct. Another whistle, and the sheep are started
to the nearest hurdle. Away they go full speed down the declivity, out
of sight, but soon to reappear at the top of the hill, Bob running
beside them. Cleverly guided, first on one flank and then on the other,
the sheep come round the hurdle. Then, on more whistles from Mr.
Barcroft, Bob starts away to his left, and drives his flock towards the
next hurdle at racing pace. Then follows one of the prettiest incidents
of the whole afternoon. Instead of making in the desired direction the
sheep come tearing up the hill. They are very fractious, and with the
perversity for which their race is celebrated, show evident signs of
separating and spoiling Bob's time by running about in different
directions. But at a warning whistle from his master, given in a minor
key, the dog stops dead and crouches on the ground. It is indeed a
Critical Moment for the success of the trial, but Bob is equal to
the occasion. "Creep to 'em, La-a-d," says Mr. Barcroft, encouragingly,
and literally ventre à terre, the old dog crawls
along on his belly inch by inch and backs the two foremost sheep up to
their companion. As soon as all three are close together, Bob is up
again once more all alert, and receiving his orders, drives them away to
the right and round the hurdle. It is an incident most difficult to
describe or to illustrate, but is certainly one of the most beautiful
examples of trained animal intelligence it is possible to imagine. Then
through the obstacle, two pairs of sheep hurdles placed in a line with a
narrow passage between them. Those acquainted with the stupidity and
obstinacy of sheep will readily realise the difficulty of preventing the
sheep running round the ends of the hurdles, instead of going through
the narrow passage, but, amid ringing cheers from a large crowd of
sightseers, the task is skilfully [sic] and quickly accomplished, and so
on to the Maltese cross. There Mr. Barcroft assists, and as our picture
shows, there is every indication of another bolt. With his master on one
side, Bob "creeps to 'em" again, and, with a little persuasion, through
they go. Then the same tactics are pursued, and they are driven through
the second alley-way at right angles to the first. Next on to the pen,
which will just hold them. Helped with his master's voice and hand Bob
gets them all in, and the trial is over.
Mr. J. Moses, of Milnthorpe, Westmoreland, brought down Old Pink,
second to the Bury dog at Llangollen, one of the most rapid workers of
the day, and Tom, also a prize winner. Little Toss, the only other dog,
was worked by her owner, Mr. W. R. Williams, of Talycafn, R.S.O., North
Wales, her instructions being conveyed in Welsh, to the intense
amusement of the crowd. With very few exceptions, all the trials were
sadly interfered with by the presence of kangaroos in the park, none of
the dogs being familiar with such stock. In one or two cases the trials
were completely spoiled, the dogs refusing to work after meeting a
kangaroo. No wonder! After the first trial there was an adjournment in
consequence of a terrific thunderstorm, during which two spectators were
killed, and not for an hour could another start be made. There was,
however, no further interruption, and on the whole, the trials were very
satisfactory, the awards of Mr. Piggin being most equitable. They were as
follows:—
1. Mr. J. Moses's Old Pink, ₤6......................10
Min.
2. Mr. J. Barcroft's White Bob,₤4..................24
Min.
3. Mr. J. Barcroft's Lassie, ₤2........................18
Min.
4. Mr. J. Barcroft's Brown
Bob......................19 Min.
The winner thus turned the tables on her Llangollen victor, the time
she gained at the obstacles by being correctly placed by her worker
standing her in good stead. She is an eight year old bitch, of but poor
appearance, being a cross
"Creep to 'Em, La-a-d."
between a rough and a smooth Collie. In three trials this year she
has won over ₤20, but her best year was 1895, when she earned her
owner as much as ₤64 in hard cash in prizes. Later in the
afternoon a series of exhibition trials were given, to the great delight
of a largely augmented crowd. It is to be hoped that another year more
than one stake may be arranged. Southerners are yet unfamiliar with one
of the chief features of the Llangollen trials, that of working two dogs
at the same time. These are set to find six sheep, three of which are
marked, and have to be separated from the others. They are driven into
distinct pens, a marvellous performance, and, but that seeing in
such a case is believing, bordering on the incredible. This article and
the accompany illustrations may be the means of arousing interest in
Sheepdogs and their trials. Committee in search of a novelty for their
annual agricultural show or sports could not well do better than include
one or two trials in their programmes. Inquiries as to their management
have lately been received from South Africa, Canada, and France; whilst
in Germany proved so successful, that they will, in all probability, be
made an annual fixture. |
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