Staffordshire Figures 1780-1840

“Hee cannot be a gentleman which loveth not a dogge,” proclaimed the sixteenth-century Puritan cleric, John Northbrooke in his somber Treatise against Dicing,  Even the strictest Puritan approved loving a dog!

Today's athletes are brawny human beasts, but early nineteenth-century sports stars were—with the exception of pugilists—animals. If you page through pre-Victorian copies of the illustrious Sporting Magazine, you will find engraving after engraving memorializing skilled horses and dogs. For dogs, conformation had not yet become a matter of concern (oh how shallow we have become!) Instead, dogs of great skill were illustrated for all to admire. Thus, Lord Camelford’s pugnacious dog Trusty earned a full page in the Sporting Magazine to display his squat, battle-scarred torso, and Billy, a rat-catching terrier of the 1820s, was depicted setting new records for that now-defunct sport. But most universally admired were gun dogs. After all, a gentleman’s achievements in the field were primarily the successes of his dogs.

The pointer was the aristocratic dog of the pre-Victorian era. Pointers arrived in England from Spain in the early 1700s. Some of those early dogs were given Spanish names--was it to make them feel more at home in their new land?  George Stubbs, renowned for his fabulous animal paintings, painted a Spanish pointer named Sancho in 1766. 

In an era when plagiarism prospered, Stubbs's famous image was to become representative of all pointers for decades to come.  Engravings mimicking Stubbs's Spanish Pointer were used into the 19th century to represent then-famous pointers. 

By 1800, breeding pointers with setters and foxhounds had yielded the English pointer. This dog was perhaps smarter than its owners! Pointers now fastidiously disdained rough country and water. Wily pointers were known to have refused to hunt for poor marksmen, and one even returned home in disgust after his master had fired repeatedly without bringing down a bird.

Dash was one of the most famous pointers of his time. This dog's fame earned him an engraving in the Rev. William Daniel’s Rural Sports. Dash's owner was persuaded to trade him for £160 worth of champagne and burgundy, a hogshead of claret, a fine gun, and another pointer--but only on the stipulation that if the dog were ever unable to hunt, his owner could buy him back for 50 guineas. In due course, a broken leg ended Dash’s hunting career, and he returned home to assume a new vocation as a stud.  Meanwhile, I am certain Dash begat lots of other dogs, some of whom must have borne their father's name.

What of ceramic pointers? Well, the example below is clearly derived from George Stubbs's famous painting, but I don't like it one bit. Why? Well, it is porcelain and, to my eyes, totally devoid of soul. It was made by Derby circa 1775, and is in the collection of the Victoria and Albert Museum.

But earthenware collectors, there is hope! Staffordshire's potters too created versions of Dash.  This dog's doulful expression, tight crouch, intense gaze and beautiful bocage make it irresistable. 

I have had a very similar dog in my collection for a long time and have not, until now, seen another that approached it for quality. This bocage is typical of the Enoch Wood manufactory, and you will go a long way to find a nicer example. If it makes you feel better, our Puritan dog-lover, John Northbrooke, would have blessed your purchase!