In the not-so-good old days, it was not rare for animals to be put on trial for crimes, usually witchcraft or murder, and summarily executed. As dreadful as these events were, one at least has the comfort of knowing that in modern times, we have rejected such barbarism.
That assumption, unfortunately, is not entirely correct. In 1930s America, newspapers eagerly covered the grim story of a dog who faced a death sentence for first-degree murder.
On July 4, 1936, 14-year-old Maxwell Breeze and some friends were celebrating Independence Day by going for a swim in the Erie Canal in Brockport, New York. A nine-month-old part-Airdale, part German Shepherd dog named Idaho decided to join in the fun. The animal leaped into the canal and swam over to Maxwell, clinging to the boy’s back. Tragically, the dog’s weight was too much for the boy. Before anyone could come to his assistance, Maxwell, unable to free himself, drowned.
Maxwell’s parents, in their shock and grief, refused to see their son’s death as a horrible accident, but as a homicide. They insisted that Idaho was a dangerous animal who had to immediately be shot. The dog’s owner, Victor Fortune, indignantly refused. He stated that there was nothing vicious about his pet. Idaho had certainly not meant harm to young Maxwell, or anyone else for that matter. The Breezes responded by bringing a civil suit against Fortune.
On July 20, all interested parties met to give testimony before Police Justice Homer Benedict. Donald Duff, one of the boys who was swimming with Maxwell that fatal day, told Justice Benedict that the dog had “Just tried to climb on Max’s back.” When asked if Maxwell had been playing with Idaho before going into the canal, Donald replied, “No.”
Donald went on to say that when Idaho climbed on top of Maxwell, the boy became frightened and yelled, “The dog’s after me. Help.” Another boy named Paul Hamlin swam out to rescue Maxwell, but Idaho began trying to climb on him. By the time Paul had extricated himself from the dog, it was too late for the Breeze boy.
A young man named Daniel Houghton testified that on two separate occasions while he was swimming in the canal, Idaho had assaulted him as well.
Victor Fortune, acting as his dog’s informal lead defense attorney, countered by saying that Idaho was just a mischievous, but well-meaning dog. Victor’s father George asserted that Idaho had not even been the dog in the canal with Maxwell. He asserted that at the time of the drowning, he and Idaho had been sitting on the Fortune front porch.
Since the tragedy, Idaho, in accordance with New York state law, had been boarded at the Rochester Dog Protective Association, in order for veterinarians to judge for themselves whether or not the dog was violent. Mary Foubister, the Association’s secretary, asked Justice Benedict for a two-week postponement of the legal proceedings so that they would have time to fully evaluate the animal. He agreed.
By this time, the fight over Idaho’s life had generated nationwide newspaper headlines. Editorials were published arguing the pros and cons of the case. One paper described the dispute as “the most spectacular case involving a dog in the history of criminal law.” Local entrepreneurs began selling copies of the dog’s paw prints at $100 a set. Idaho became so famous, the shelter that was serving as his temporary prison had to hire a bodyguard for him. It was feared that someone would try to steal the four-legged celebrity. When a Moscow, Idaho resident named Carl Hoisington heard of the story, he became convinced that Idaho was the same dog who had been stolen from his brother-in-law in Idaho Falls. Victor Fortune, however, insisted that Idaho had been one of a litter of puppies that he had cared for while working at a Civilian Conservation Corps camp in Salmon, Idaho. Since we hear nothing more of Mr. Hoisington and his dognapping claims, it is presumed that he was proved to have been mistaken. Another side issue arose when it was speculated that another local dog, a three-year-old named Rex, was actually the canine who had been responsible for Maxwell’s death. However, this effort to provide Idaho with an alibi does not appear to have been taken very seriously.
Dog lovers across the country had sent Fortune unsolicited cash donations, which were used to hire the services of a real lawyer, one Harry A. Sessions. In the meantime, dog experts at the shelter subjected Idaho to a series of tests to determine his potential for viciousness. They concluded that he was just a friendly, playful puppy who didn’t know his own strength. Under a veterinarian’s supervision, a local newspaper reporter named Martin Gagie joined Idaho in the canal for an experimental swim. Afterwards, Gagie stated, “Idaho enjoys the water immensely. I am convinced he meant no harm when he played tag with me in the murky waters of the canal. However, he weighs fifty pounds and, even in play, is rough. I got several scratches, but there was no hint of viciousness as he pawed me. He was just a big, rough puppy enjoying a swim to the utmost.” It was pointed out that Maxwell’s body bore no scratches or claw marks from the dog. This suggested that Idaho did not force the boy under water. It was theorized that perhaps Maxwell drowned because he became panic-stricken, or simply developed a cramp.
Maxwell Breeze’s mother Anne was not convinced. She wrote to a newspaper, “My boy Maxie is dead, the victim of a dangerous mongrel dog. I believe that dog was Idaho, and I demand that he be killed.” she wrote. She added angrily, “If the people of this country who are not parents continue, as they have in this case, to place the life of a mongrel dog above the life of a happy, healthy child, then it is time that all mothers give up the task of bringing up children.”
Both sides in the dispute met again before Justice Benedict on August 5. Over three hundred journalists and curious spectators joined them. Idaho himself--thankfully unaware that his life was on the line--seemed bored with the proceedings. He napped through most of the hearing.
After listening to all the testimony, Benedict did his best to mix justice with mercy. Instead of the death penalty requested by the Breezes, he decreed that Idaho should be returned to his owner to serve a sentence of twenty-six months of house arrest. He warned Fortune that if the dog was not confined, Idaho would be killed by a peace officer.
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| "Palm Beach Post," August 16, 1936, via Newspapers.com |
The crowd was overjoyed by the verdict, with the notable exception of Anne Breeze. Maxwell’s mother snapped to reporters, “They’re going to let that dog around loose and it’ll kill someone else. That dog killed my poor son, the only thing that I had. If I had a gun, I’d shoot it myself.”
In accordance with the court’s order, Idaho spent the next two years chained up in Fortune’s yard. During this period, he made two brief escapes, but both times he returned home on his own before Victor and his mother even had a chance to run after him.
Idaho may have been a dangerous swimming buddy, but he was at heart a Good Boy.
As a result of a petition filed by the Rochester Dog Protective Association, on September 19, 1938, New York Supreme Court Justice William Love signed a court order giving Idaho a full and unconditional pardon, 12 days before his sentence ended. Sadly, the dog did not enjoy his freedom for long. On January 12, 1939, Victor’s brother Jack took Idaho with him for a hike near Route 31. While doing so, Idaho began chasing after a cat. He ran into the highway, where he was fatally struck by a car. The hit-and-run driver was never identified.
Anne Breeze probably celebrated the news.
