by L A Vocelle
Had a cat;
It had but one ear;
It went to buy butter,When butter was dear” (Van Vechten, 1921).
References to the cat in this period are not confined to poetry but also frequently appear in the very first pieces of literature. In Ludovico Ariosto’s Italian farce, The Pretenders (1509), his character Carione states, “As if the six months that you have at home—and seven with the cat—” (Beecher, 2008, p. 64). The cat is already an important companion. In another comedy, Cortigiana, the author Aretino has his character Rosso state, “She was talking to Don Cerimonia the Spaniard. They were talking about going to some vineyard for supper—I don’t know which one and I acted like Massino’s cat.” Parabolano asked, “What did Massion’s cat do?” Rosso replied, “She closed her eyes to keep from catching mice” (Beecher, 2008, p. 126). Certainly, the woman does not want to be seduced. In another episode, Togna says to Ercolano angry that he has not been home, “I always have to eat with the cat.” And in yet another play, Piccolonini, the character Vincenzio states, “—a cat would never fool with a mouse if he didn’t expect to eat it in the end” (Beecher, 2008, p. 173).
BEWARE THE CAT, THE FIRST ENGLISH NOVEL
Perhaps not so surprising, the first novel written in English is entitled Beware the Cat by William Baldwin (1515-1563), and includes cats as the main characters. What dog could live up to this claim to fame? First published in 1570, during the Reformation, and set in Ireland, it is a satire on Catholicism; an attack on what Protestants considered superstitious religious rites. The character Streamer narrates the three part story, which is based on the premise that animals are capable of speech and reasoning, and that man can learn to understand them, albeit through some complicated magical spell. The plot revolves around the trial of the main female cat character, Mouse-slayer, who is charged with not abiding by the laws of the cat world, and shunning the advances of her admirer. Throughout the story, for the first time in any literature, the cats act like cats that possess great evil powers, unlike the character Tibert, in Reynard the Fox, who acts like a person. The story begins with an Irish soldier killing Grimalkin†, the chief cat. A soldier and his servant, after stealing a cow and a sheep, take refuge in a church yard and kill and cook the sheep. When the meat is done, a cat comes begging. The soldier and servant give the cat some of their food until it is all gone. The insatiable cat eats the cow as well. The men, fearing for their own lives, run away. The cat chases them, and the soldier resorts to throwing a spear that hits and kills Grimalkin. After Grimalkin dies, a clowder of cats appears; and in revenge, they attack and kill and then, even eat the servant boy. The soldier, after escaping this horrifying experience, finally arrives home, and recounts the whole story to his wife, but little does he realize that his own cat is listening. His cat asks him, “Hast thou killed Grimalkin?!” (Hadfield, 2007, p. 142). Once hearing that he has in fact killed Grimalkin, his own infuriated cat jumps on the ill-fated soldier and strangles him. Here, the invincibility of the cats is a metaphor for the undying power of the Catholic Church, which ultimately cannot be destroyed.
Cats were not just included in novels, but also found their way into various plays. A cat literally had its first onstage role in the comedic play, Gammer Gurton’s Needle, produced in the late 1500’s. Gammer Gurton loses her needle while trying to stop a cat from drinking up the family’s milk, and the poor feline, viewed as a trouble-maker, is blamed for swallowing the needle. While the character Hodge is looking for the needle, he is frightened by the cat’s eyes which appear like black burning coals. The cat then runs upstairs and Hodge breaks his leg while trying to catch it. The cat “—is left to fend for himself in a world that regards him as best a nuisance and at worst a portent. In this regard he may be viewed as a fairly typical early modern English cat” (Beecher, 2011, p. 110).
THE CAT IN SHAKESPEARE
Many of Shakespeare’s 37 plays have references to the cat, albeit always negative ones. And it was Shakespeare who borrowed the name Tybalt from the fable Reynard the Fox, and used it in his play Romeo and Juliet, wherein Mercutio insultingly remarks that Tybalt is a “rat catcher” and the “king of cats”. He also refers to the cat’s ability to have nine lives when, again, Mercutio remarks, “Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives.” The first witch in MacBeth says, “Thrice the brindled cat hath mew’d.” And in another passage the witch says, “I come, Graymalkin.” In Henry IV Falstaff says, “—I am melancholy as a gib cat—”. In The Merry Wives of Windsor, Falstaff remarks that Pistol has “cat-a-mountain” looks, a reference to the term “gato-montes” derived from Spanish meaning wild cat. If the word cat was used, it was most likely a term of contempt, as in the Tempest, when Antonio states, “For all the rest, they’ll take suggestion as a cat laps milk,” and when Shylock says, “A harmless necessary cat”. And also, in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, where Lysander says, “Hang off, thou cat.” Once more too, in Coriolanus it has the same meaning.
“Twas you incensed the rabble;
Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth,
As I can of those mysteries which heaven
Will not have earth to know.”
In Much Ado About Nothing, Shakespeare refers to the game practiced in Scotland, which was mentioned previously, where a cat was hung up on a cross beam between two high poles in a small barrel half filled with soot, and then men on horseback would ride back and forth trying to hit the barrel and break it, in order to release the cat for further torture and ultimate death. Benedick says, “Hang me in a bottle like a cat and shoot at me.” Undoubtedly Shakespeare was not a fan of cats, but he did make many mentions of them in his plays, mostly using them as metaphorical tools to express the opinions of women and to describe their nature.
PUSS IN BOOTS
The popular story that we know today as Puss in Boots, originated as a fable written by Giovanni Straparola (1480-1557), as part of his Facetious Nights. The fable recounts the plight of three poor boys whose mother, Soriana, has only three possessions of value: a kneading trough, a pastry board and a cat. Knowing that she is soon to die, Sorianna gives away her possessions to her sons. The kneading trough she gives to the oldest son, Dusolino; the pastry board to the middle son, Tesifone; and the cat to the youngest son, Costantino Fortunato. From his name we can probably guess that his life will end happily. But the tale continues with the cat, a disguised fairy, feeling sorry for Costantino and promising to help him, “Costantino, do not be cast down, for I will provide for your well-being and sustenance, and for my own as well.” The wily cat manages to kill a leveret† and takes it to the King of Bohemia as a gift from Costantino Fortunato. The king is pleased and asks the cat to stay to dine, and the loyal cat takes food home to Costantino where his brothers become jealous of his good fortune. The cat continues this ritual of offering the king game until one day he comes up with a plan. He asks Costantino to go to a nearby river, strip off his clothes and get in. Costantino does as the cat asks. When he is in the river, the cat starts yelling that his master is drowning. The sly cat knew that the king would be passing close by and would hear the cries for help. The king came to the rescue and invited Costantino back to his palace. Thinking that Costantino was rich, he decided that his daughter, Elisetta, should marry him. After they were married, Costantino worried that he had no house. The fairy cat managed to take care of that detail as well. Soon after the King died; Costantino was declared the new king of Bohemia, and lived happily ever after with his wife and children. At the end of this original version, the fairy cat is not mentioned at all.
In Giambasttista Basile’s Tale of Tales (Pentamerone), yet another version of the same story, some simple changes occur. The mother becomes a father; the main character’s name changes to that of Cagliuso;† and the cat is referred to as “Her Royal Catness”. The story follows essentially the same plot as Straparola’s version, but varies in small details. More importantly, the characters are rougher, ruder and, perhaps, meaner. An example is when Cagl
iuso attends the banquet given by the King, he constantly worries about the rags that he had to take off after being in the river water. He says to the cat, “My little kitty, keep an eye on those rags of mine, for I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to them.” And the cat answers, “Be quiet, shut your trap, don’t talk about such trifles!” Obviously Cagliuso was not as smart as the cat and would ruin the plan. Cagliuso thanked the cat many times for his good fortune and promised that when she died, he would have her stuffed and put into a golden cage in his bedroom. The cat, not completely trusting of Cagliuso’s promise, three days later pretended to be dead. When Cagliuso found the cat dead, he proclaimed, “Better her than us! And may every evil accompany her.” When his wife asked what she should do with her body, Cagliuso answered, “Take her by her foot and throw her out the window!” The cat, hearing this, revives and runs away only after chastising Cagliuso. The moral that summarizes the story is, “May God save you from the rich who become poor and from the beggar who has worked his way up” (Canepa, 2007, pp. 167-68).
Figure 6.34. Illustration of Charles Perrault’s Puss in Boots, Gustav Doré, 1867
Puss in Boots by Charles Perrault (1628–1703), the story that we are familiar with today, is generally the same as the other versions, but does not offer the same moral. It instead offers a lesson that seems to hinge on the benefits of lying and being wealthy (figure 6.34).
THE CAT IN SPAIN
The Spanish writer Miguel de Cervantes mentions cats as devil possessed beings that frighten the windmill-chasing Don Quixote.
“ —all of a sudden from a gallery above, that was exactly over his (Quixote’s) window, they let down a cord with more than a hundred bells attached to it, and immediately after that discharged out a great sack full of cats, which also had bells of smaller size tied to their tails. Such was the din of the bells and the squalling of the cats...that...the contrivers of the joke...were startled by it, while Don Quixote stood paralyzed with fear; and as luck would have it, two or three cats made their way in through the grating of his chamber, and flying from one side to the other, made it seem as if there was a legion of devils at large in it. They extinguished the candles that were burning in the room and rushed about seeking some way of escape...Don Quixote sprang to his feet and, drawing his sword, began making passes at the grating, shouting out,
‘Avaunt, malignant enchanters! Avaunt, ye witchcraft working rabble!’
...and turning upon the cats that were running about the room, he made several cuts at them. They dashed at the grating and escaped by it save one that...flew at his face and held on to his nose with tooth and nail” (de Cervantes, 2, 499).
But it is also a gold cat, with the word Miau under it, with which Cervantes adorns Timonel of Carcajon, Prince of New Biscay’s shield, supposedly in honor of Miaulina, daughter of the Alfeniquen of the Algarve (Van Vechten, 1921).
Surely not to be included as great literature, in another Spanish book, Libro de Cocina, by Roberto de Nola, cook for the King of Naples, is a recipe for roast cat: Gato asado como se quiere comer. The recipe is as follows: First, catch the cat and then slit its throat, and cut off its head and throw it away (It was very important to throw the head away as it was believed that if the cat’s brains were eaten, the person would go mad). Next, skin the cat and then wrap it in a cloth and bury it in the ground. After a day, dig up the cat and baste it with garlic and olive oil and roast it over an open fire. When completely cooked, again sauté with the garlic and olive oil (Ife, 1999).
THE CAT IN FRANCE
All animals were to suffer as a result of the philosophy of René Descartes (1596-1650), as according to Descartes, no animal had a soul or the ability to feel. In essence, they were just mechanical beings without emotion. His philosophy was highly influential in the 17th century, and caused animals to endure much pain and torture. Descartes reversed the philosophy of Michel de Montaigne (1533-1592) who believed that animals and humans were equal; in other words, no species was superior to another. This idea had in fact been explored in Montaigne’s An Apology for Raymond Sebond (1576), wherein he writes, “When I play with my cat, how do I know that she is not passing time with me rather than I with her?” (Waddell, 2003).
Despite living during the same time as Decartes and the enduring witch trials, Cardinal Richelieu (figure 6.35), Armand Jean du Plessis (1585– 1642), Louis XIII’s chief minister, loved cats very much. So much so that he built a cattery at Versailles and even left money for the welfare of his cats after his death. Alexandre Landrin writes in Le Chat, “With Richelieu the taste for cats was a mania; when he rose in the morning and when he went to bed at night he was always surrounded by a dozen of them with which he played, delighting to watch them jump and gamble. He had one of his chambers fitted up as a cattery, which was entrusted to overseers, the names of whom are known. Abel and Teyssandier came, morning and evening, to feed the cats with patés fashioned of the white meat of chicken. At his death Richelieu left a pension for his cats and to Abel and Teyssandier so that they might continue to care for their charges. When he died, Richelieu left fourteen cats of which the names were: Mounard le Fougueux, Soumise, Serpolet, Gazette, Ludovic le Cruel, Mimie Piaillon, Felimare, Lucifer, Lodoiska, Rubis sur l’Ongle, Pyrame, Thisbé, Racan, and Perruque. These last two received their names from the fact that they were born in the wig of Racan, the academician”(Landrin, 1894, p. 93).Gaston Percheron writes, “History records that Richelieu with one hand caressed a family of cats which played on his knees, while with the other he signed the order for the execution of (Marquis de) Cinq-Mars” (Landrin, 1894).
Figure 6.35. Cardinal Richelieu with three kittens on his lap. Photograph by T.W Ingersoll, St. Paul, 1908, Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.
THE PLAGUE OF LONDON
Unfortunately, cats and dogs were blamed for the spread of the great plague of London in 1665. Consequently, around 40,000 dogs and 200,000 cats were wantonly slaughtered. Domestic cats and dogs were thought to carry the effluvia or infections in their fur. Hence an order was issued by the Lord Mayor that they should be immediately exterminated. Even so, most did not abide by the order. Daniel Defoe observed that most homes in London had at least five or more cats (Defoe, 1722/1983, pp. 136-7).
The schizophrenic behavior of the Early Modern Period, on the one hand, preserved and glorified the cat as a useful symbol in art, literature and plays with mischievous pets even being immortalized in poetic epitaphs. However, on the other hand, the cat was still thought to be a pariah, a devil, a loathsome thing to be feared and hence tortured and killed. Even so, as either revered or reviled the ubiquitous cat had permeated men’s psyches and had begun to re-establish itself as an integral part of society and art from which it could never again be displaced.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE ENLIGHTENMENT
The threat of plague and witchcraft waned in the 18th century, and the poverty and pestilence of earlier centuries slowly receded, making way for a new era full of new possibilities. Man’s condition advanced with a concern for sanitation, and as the importance of good hygiene gained a foothold in major urban areas, health improved; an inoculation for smallpox in 1720 allowed the population to grow and thrive. No longer preoccupied with the basic needs of life, men were able to pursue education, and were thereby able to raise their financial and social status. A growing educated bourgeoisie class blossomed into writers, scientists, and social activists. These intellectuals and artists, who sought knowledge for the betterment of society, gave the century its name: the Enlightenment, for it was certainly a period of light after so much darkness and suffering. This light did not shine on man alone, but consequently on the cat as well. As man’s condition progressed, so did that of the cat. No longer seen solely as a symbol of witchcraft and the devil, the cat became an icon of cleanliness in a time when cleanliness was truly next to godliness. Thus, the cat became an acceptable companion for royalty, the upper classes, and the bourgeoisie, and not least of all, the rising grou
p of intellectuals composed of philosophers, writers, politicians and statesmen. Even though the cat’s greatest enemies: the ignorant, poor and superstitious would continue to threaten its existence (as they still do today), the cat moved on to a period of pampered acceptance in upper class educated circles, protected by a previously unheard of concern for animal welfare.
PHILOSOPHERS AND CATS
Philosophers of the time promoted these changes and espoused such concepts as the pursuit of happiness and the love of nature. The concern for happiness and a return to the importance of nature were the essential ingredients of the Enlightenment. Dennis Diderot (1713-84), one of the first Enlightenment philosophers, made happiness a legitimate goal for all people. According to Diderot, freedom, and the ability to accumulate goods, led to happiness. These literally became revolutionary ideas, and Diderot became the ideological father of both the French and American revolutions. Furthermore, during this time, the beliefs of the ancient pagans were reborn. The philosophy of Jean Jacques Rousseau (1712-78) proclaimed that God and nature were one. The thrust of philosophical thought had returned to the old pagan idea of Pantheism, and with it, a new-found respect for animals and their treatment emerged. Reflecting this renewed respect for nature, Pantheism seeped into every aspect of the arts. Later, Romanticism would be based on this new philosophy, and music, art and literature would also mirror this close relationship. Scientists, too, from Copernicus to Newton† contributed to this awakening by spawning a tolerance for other cultures and ideas by moving away from the dictates of the once all-powerful church.
In his famous Essay on Man, 1733-4, Alexander Pope asserted that man was not that different from animals and should, therefore, treat them in a compassionate manner. In a Guardian article of 1713, he said that animals were abused and “—have the misfortune, for not manner of reason, to be treated as common enemies wherever found. The conceit that a cat has nine lives has cost at least nine lives in ten of the whole race to them: scarce a boy in the streets but has in this point outdone Hercules himself, who was famous for killing a monster that had but three lives” (Steele & Addison, 1829, p. 95).
