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On the Historical Use of Bull Terriers as Ordnance By the British Royal Navy

[Following entry dated July 5, 1921]

Lo these many years, I have endeavoured to remain an acolyte of British naval history, despite my incarceration in this foetid den of wretched, convalescing catatonics. However, one must remain optimistic, and my mind recalls our old ship’s motto: “In the absence of wine, women, and song, we’ll have rum, bum, and gramophone records.” To continue:

While serving as a Yeoman on the H.M.S Buttercup – then the fiercest tall ship in the Upper Canadian Barge Fleet, with its billowy sails and flower prints – much of my apprenticeship was spent under the care and tender ministrations of one Rear Admiral Melvin Bogwater, of Manchester, England. Foremost among the Admiral’s many great qualities (which ranged from the arcane and erudite, to the downright erotic) was his adeptness at improvisation on short notice.

The feared and famous bull terrier.

This particular practice, while not intended to sink a ship, would gain a distinct psychological advantage for us over our opponent, which was far better than merely shooting blanks. Bullshotting, in essence, involved launching England’s prestigious dog, the Bull Terrier, amidships onto our foe’s deck. But before I describe the mechanics and desired outcomes of bullshotting, I must first render a brief history of the English Bull-and-Terrier.

The Bull Terrier was conceived, developed, and bred by the hand of Phineas St. Clair in 1796. The canine that we know today was intended to engage and vanquish the feared British Bulldog, which at that time was more a fighter than a flatulator. To achieve this end, St. Clair combined the attributes of the Dalmatian and the Spanish Pointer, along with a touch of Bulldog, Mastiff, and Ugandan Hopper. This mix produced a dog who – on paper – seemed invincible. But the fact of the matter was the Bull Terrier was less concerned with fighting than it was with puttering and sniffing around the ring, perhaps in search of its forehead. Sadly, Phineas St. Clair’s business venture ended poorly, and his debts were collected by two Corsican lads named Vinnie and Sal.

By now the Bull Terrier was a solution in search of a problem. Many attempts were made by Bull Terrier supporters to find a useful application for this well-built yet exceedingly slow-witted animal. Many careers were considered and tried; yet – despite minor success as a replacement for the mine-canary – the Bull Terrier was nearly given up entirely as a useless beast.

Contrary to popular belief and its portrayal in images like the one above, a shattered topmast was not an omen for beautiful sunsets.

One particular Bull Terrier devotee was navy Captain Nelson Pummel-Fitz, who adopted a tan-and-white “Bullie” as his ship’s mascot. While embroiled in the War of 1812, Pummel-Fitz ran short on cannonballs. His Bull Terrier, Gadfly, had six months prior given birth to four chuckle-headed pups. Forsaking his love of the breed, Pummel-Fitz immediately ordered the four starboard cannons to be loaded with one pup each. All four guns were fired simultaneously at the enemy vessel. (It should be noted here that the Bull Terrier’s skull is approximately twice as thick as a boilerplate from Harland & Wolff.) The resulting impact against the enemy’s hull from the first gun was such that the planking shattered like match-sticks (as did the unfortunate pup). The second gun was aimed with precision at the enemy’s topmast, and wreaked considerable damage against it. The remaining two cannons were loaded light with powder, which caused the pups to sail through the air and land on the opposition’s deck. The infuriated pups proceeded to attack the enemy troops, heading straight for any groin within reach. Pummel-Fitz’s gamble proved a resounding success.

In such a manner was bullshotting born. It was from these exploits that we derive, in the common vernacular, such phrases as:

• “The dogs of war.”
• “Release the hounds.”
• “F*** me, it’s raining terriers!” and
• “The Captain has no balls.”

Remembering well his naval lore, Admiral Bogwater always kept a few Bull Terriers at his command. Upon shouting at me “Pudding! For the love of God and Queen, fire the damned Bullies!” the cannons roared and the dogs squealed with bloodthirsty delight. Needless to say, the resulting carnage was fearful. The Spaniards aboard El Cabron were horrified at the onslaught of bullshot, and were incapable of doing little more than running about the decks, flapping their arms, and shrieking in their guttural tongue, “What chaos!” Our victory over those saffron-loving turbot-pinchers was absolute, with all due thanks and accolades to the ingenuity of Captain Pummel-Fitz during the War of 1812.

Such exploits can still be seen today, as I well know, through the Bullshotting Re-Enactment Society of Southern Ontario. Despite my encroaching illness and irredeemable crapulence, I managed to venture forthwith to Port Stanley only last month to witness the arrival of the tall ships, complete with a bullshotting demonstration, which rather shockingly and mistakenly sent a chubby brindle stud through the front window of Mackie’s. He did not fail to complete his duties.

Editor’s Note: Emily Chesley’s uncle, the inventor Michael Flannigan, was known for several forays into the armaments industry. In 1891, he attempted to apply the successful principle of canine ordnance to prototype infantry field weaponry. This, of course, necessitated the use of smaller and more portable ammunition than the Bull Terrier. He opted for the Dachshund (a.k.a. the Weiner Dog). However, Flannigan’s Rifled Dachshund Decimator was a failure, as the bags of yelping ammunition were judged too conspicuous for the front.

Rear Admiral Melvin Bogwater, circa 1850

One entrepreneurial farmer thought the Bull Terrier might make an excellent milking dog at dairy farms. He was tragically mistaken.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Captain Nelson Pummel-Fritz, pictured here with "Gadfly", whose exceptionally thick cranium hulled two American frigates at the famous Battle of Muttland.

 

 

 

 

Few of England’s adversaries could withstand the cold, brutal sight of a Bullie-loaded cannon. They were – in a word – gobsmacked.