I arrived at about eight hours at the cafe where competitions are held. I was early, but there was enough to keep me busy, like watching the strange scene around me and make notes on the habits and conversations of the guests, who trickled in slowly. The head of the long bar was crowded with men from all walks of society, all smoking, drinking and talking about dogs. Many had their sporting dogs with them, so that a sort of exhibition of dogs took place. Some guests wore small Bulldog’s under their arms, the flat pink noses rubbed down my arm as they passed. Others had Skye-terriers, who were sleeping as the ball rolled her while they were pampered by their owners. The only dogs that apparently were awake, and continuously excited were the little brown English terriers, who despite their black leather collars fought to be free. It was like the rats in the smoking room upstairs, and they were impatient to begin the battle.
There is a business look to the pub, you immediately give insight on the character of the person who owns it. Drinking similar to the second place to come here, it’s a room with low ceilings without the decorations are now seen as indispensable to an attractive bar. The barrels where the drinks are kept in scrolled through the heat, and so dirty that the once shiny metal bands black.
Sleeping in an old chair was an enormous white bulldog, “a great beauty,” as I was told, with a head like a boxing glove, which seemed too big for his body. His forehead had the same shape as that of a water main, and he came close to its shorter nose, letting his heavy breathing. When the dog got up, enjoyed the admiration of many, his legs were severely bent, this was what I was told an item of beauty. It was a white dog with a serious look, mainly comes from the pink around the eyes, nose, and actually around all the boundaries of the body. On the other side of the fireplace was a white Bull & Terrier, with a black patch over the eye. This animal hit the movements of the guests watched, and when the front door hit he growled as if to ask what the new guest wanted. The owner was kind enough to tell me as he patted his dog’s ribs, which is probably what Greyhound blood in his veins.
On the wall hung fittings and collars with buckles and a silver necklace was striking that, I know by the conversation of some guests, the prize for the winner of a Ratmatch that would place a fortnight vinden.De guests took place in the salon, and the bartender said they were not blocking the bar, and when the bartender yelled: “Give your orders gentlemen ‘I came into the room. I found that in the salon as the bar was little done to make the guests comfortable. The only thing in this room at the dirty wallpaper hanging, were some “sporting pictures. In space were also square glass display cases, which sport stuffed dogs are from a bygone era. Of the prints on the wall was particularly impressed on the dog ‘Tiny Miracle, “which weighed 2.5 kilos and 200 rats killed in a match. This print looked very special, because he had been on a handkerchief. Tiny was the favorite of the pub owner, and he usually wore when damesarband collar. Among the chiefs was a stuffed head of a white bulldog with glass eyes bulging as if he was killed to strangulation. The son of the pub owner was so kind to me to explain what were the qualities of this favorite. “They blew it up with Mr.” : He said, “She took her far too short in the muzzle, but she was the miracle in her time ‘. “There was no dog in England who could match her, and that is her daughter : He said, and he pointed to another key. Head that looked a bit like a seal, and the boy said: “She was not half as good as her mother, but she was still very much admired in her time ‘. ‘That one’ : He said pointing to a head with a rat in his mouth, ‘Was one of the best dogs from England, but she was very small’. “I gave her a dozen rats show dead, as big as itself, but eventually kill her, because the sewer rats gave her oral cancer, despite the fact that we each time her mouth cleansed with peppermint and water as she had worked”.
The group gathered in the salon, along with the “sporting men” were ordinary people who were curious about what a Ratmatch really was. Sitting at the same table, talking to each other, were some dressed in corduroy marktkoopmanspak, soldiers in their uniforms, coachmen in their work clothes, and craftsmen who quickly their shops had been in office for but none of the ‘sporting scene to miss their rapidly attracted overcoats.
The dogs were owned by the bartender were at different tables, or they were sleeping in the arms of their owners. The dogs were constantly watched critically beaten, they were fondled and their teeth were examined. Almost all dogs were marked with scars from bites. “Sin for him to give Rat-Killing ‘ : Someone said that a wild-looking admiringly Bull Terrier & looked, but he did not realize that without these and other sports this dog did not exist. At another table told a man that his dog did exactly the famous rat-killer “Billy” and he pointed at the same time the record of this dog when he put the record of the Rat-Killing in 500 rats to live in five and a half minutes.
Among the guests were some French men who never had seen a spectacle. She drank gin with hot water, and let their interpreter translate the sign that hung from a beam, on which was:
Every Man His HAS fancy.
Ratting SPORTS IN REALITY
Around nine hours was the bartender in the lounge down, and simultaneously gave the orders for window blind and the stone burden. This communication shook the guests awake, even the dogs seemed to understand what was happening, they became restless and began pulling their belts.
“Why this little champion?” : The bartender asked as he patted a dog on his back with thighs like a grasshopper and a mouth from ear to ear. “Well because it is a beauty ‘. Then he looked around the room and said: “Gentlemen, I am glad to see that you all feel comfortable”. The games could only start when a man came in who was named captain by the waiters.
“Hey Jem, when the match starts? : Said the captain impatiently, and despite the fact that he was assured that she would soon begin, he threatened to leave if it would last much longer. This young officer seemed a great lover of dogs, for he touched, felt and looked at each dog as accurate, that the French men felt compelled to ask who he was. There was no mention of the preparedness of the upper room, but everyone seemed to know because they all stood up and went into the wide wooden stairs to what once was the salon. Everyone paid his entrance fee to the pub owner, and enter the Rat-Killing space.
“The Pit” as it called, consists of a circle with a diameter of about 2 meters, and has a wooden wall around at elbow height. A gas lamp lit the white painted floor of the pit, and the rest of the small arena. In one corner of the room is a lodge, the pub owner that his private box call, and it soon took the captain and his friends, whereas the rest of the audience took place at the tables, or they hung on pitwand .
All the guests had brought the dogs were barking and now screaming and trying to move away from the arms of their boss. When rats with a rusty cage was placed inside, was the screaming of the dogs so hard that the bartender was forced to shout: “For those who have a dog with them, let them keep their mouths’.
The captain was the first to jump into the pit. A man tried another “Bull & Terrier” to sell, was spotted as a smart rabbit, while another dozen rats. The captain preferred to the rats themselves pulling out of the cage. He pulled them out of their tail and threw them into the pit. He was warned by one of the men, mainly in order not to bite, he said: “Believe me, you would never forget Captain, these are not the finest ‘. While the number of rats die in the pit was counted, ran some of them painted on the floor, and climbed against the leg of the young officer. He shook them from his leg, and shouted at them: “Go off vermin ‘, The other rats were sitting on their ass and wash their faces with their front paws.
When the dog whose turn it was was raised, and show the rat were shown he was all excited and went to hang over the arms of his owner, and the other dogs were a kind of concert with all their yelling and barking. “Throw him in.”: Cried the captain, and the dog was let loose in the pit. Within a second all the rats running around in the pit and tried to hide in the cracks between the planks of the pitwand.
Although the owner of the dog cried “He is doing well huh, and look what kind of style ‘, The dog was not worth much in the Rat-Pit, the dog was probably prefer the pit and had jumped the rat left alone. Some rats in the dog jumps into his face as he approached them, and then jumped back in horror. Others turned around in his mouth, and holding him fast in his nose so he had to keep walking around with them like a mother cat with her kittens. The dog was also far too long with a dead rat around, and had repeatedly yelled at him that he had to let him go to the following address. After this tragedy the owner of the dog excused himself by saying that the dog had never in his life had seen a rat.
The captain looked forward to require as much as possible ‘sporting scenes can be seen, and asked anyone with a dog under his arm, walked him to try, and he was very disappointed when he got a response that the dog burden of his mouth did, or that the dog only at smaller rats moisture. A small dog was put into the pit to amuse himself with the dead rats. He picked up a rat that was almost as big as himself, and he shook him so hard that the head of the rat hit the floor like a drum stick, it made the whole crowd to laugh, and someone said: “He’s very good at shaking hi ‘.
The pit was then prepared for the big match of the evening where fifty rats were to be slain. The dead rats with their tails caught and thrown in the corner, the floor was mopped and there was a large round basket in which chickens are transported to market, brought inside. Among the metal top of the basket was the little groups huddling in rat classroom.
The match would be between the pub owner and his son, the stakes were nothing more than a bottle of lemonade. The father predicted that he would probably be the one who would drink the first sip. It was strange to see in what way the bold man’s hand stuck in the rat cage, sometimes longer than one minute, only the big rat from the teeming masses to fish.
When all fifty rats were in the pit, trying them in a corner and crawl over each other to climb out of the pit to come. The hope is that rats in the corner was swept together reminded her in a barbershop. The rats that ran around in the pit were all muskrats or sewage, and spreading the scent they did, therefore, think that a sewer. The captain amused himself with his handkerchief to the rats to save, or by the tip of his cigar to smell, which she drew back terrified, afraid to get burned. Whatever one liked was the ball rats to blow, and for them to fear from each other to see run, this trick also used them during the match the rats apart to get what the dog is more likely given them better deal.
The company had long wait on the upcoming match, the impatient captain already started threatening to go home as it would take a long time, but the bartender told him; “My good friend, be patient, the guys just come up the stairs with the dog ‘And indeed it was shortly after the screams and cries of the dog to hear it was like he was strangled, he made a racket. There now appeared a boy with a very excited Bull Terrier & he hung on his arm and his collar so that he nearly strangled himself. The dog was nearly mad with rage, and he tried to move away, for the rats to be. “Get him a little closer to its head down, otherwise he’ll turn around and even then he’ll bite” : The pub owner said to his son.
After all preparations were made, the second with the dog jumped into the pit, and after the dog first the rats had shown he had the Bull Terrier & loose. When the dog loose, he was silent, and he ran straight to the ball with rats, and thrust his nose to make it here later to come out with a rat in his mouth. In a short time there were a dozen dead rats with broken necks bleeding on the floor, and the white paint from the stone became soaked with blood. A rat bit her stuck in the nose of the dog, and despite the shaking of his head did not release the rat. The dog rammed his head against the pitwand, and a trail of blood left behind like a strawberry was crushed. “He screams at least not that is a good sign ‘ : Said one of the spectators. When the rat bites have been dropped, they were in the center of the core collection, where they were lying stuipend.
“Butcher Hup, hup Butcher, good dog” : Shouted the second, and while he hit against the pitwand time, and this seemed the dog immediately to give new energy. “That’s a dead drop ‘ : Shouted the second time the dog with his nose against a dead rat still nastuipende pushed. ‘Time’ : Exclaimed the bartender when four of the eight minutes had elapsed, and the dog wast arrested, but he tried releasing the remaining rats are still in the pit rondkrioelden address. The rats began to wash in this brief pause, she nibbled at the tip of their tail and they ran around and smoke on the legs of the man who stood in the pit. They did this very quietly, while only a few steps from their enemy, the dogs were removed.
The dog eventually lost the match, and the bartender gave the bottle to his son fairly. The bartender was disappointed in the dog and said: “He has affected me, it’s not my type ‘. And he said to one man: “Hey Jim, tell Mr. S that he may have if he wants, because I give him no more shelter ‘. It was a nice half Pence piece thrown into the pit as a reward for the second dog.
A short break was now inserted where the bartender announced that the guests their thoughts for the moment the focus had to drink and the bartender said: “Put your order gentlemen ‘And now trying the man with the rats some animals to sell. Some other dogs were tried, and among them was one which, according to the size of his stomach was very abundant meals, its owner saw Rat-Killing therefore more fun than a sport. The appearance of this animal made many reactions from among those present, and some people shouted: “Why will not eat your dog?”And: “You need him no more than five meals a day to give Hear.
There was another impatient & Bull Terrier in the wick put twelve rats, and he did so well that the audience watched with admiration. Someone said: “I think he would do even better against one hundred rats than against these twelve ‘And another said: Rat-Killing is his sport, I can see ‘. The pub owner said: “It’s a very pleasant appearance, I’d bet for 8 1 / 2 pounds each dog that he beats’. The captain was so full of this dog that he said: “When he was fifteen rats in one minute, I die a hundred Guineas for ‘.
It was nearly twelve hours before the matches were finished by this evening.
Written by Mr Henry Mayhew in 1851, London, England.