This Staffordshire soldier with "80" painted on his crossbelt in an officer of the Eightieth Regiment of Foot. This regiment was raised in Staffordshire in 1793, at the onset of the Anglo-French wars. In 1802 it absorbed the Staffordshire Volunteers and changed its name to the Eightieth Regiment of Foot (Staffordshire Volunteers). 

I had long admired this plucky fellow in the Hunt Collection. He is apparently unique but he acquired added significance a few years ago when I acquired a rare figure of a sailor that looked remarkably like him. Of course, when figures in the Hunt Collection became available last year, I purchased the soldier to make a pair.

The two men look like twins. Their faces use the same molds, as do the their bodies from the wast down. Both have arms that are far too skinny for their bodies, and each has a short stump behind to add support.

I don't know who made these figures, but I strongly suspect it was Sherratt. You can see other figures that seem to have originated from the same pottery here ​https://www.mystaffordshirefigures.com/blog/a-natural-family.
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And if you would like to know more about the handsome sailor, you can read about it here ​www.mystaffordshirefigures.com/blog/a-peeler-or-a-sailor.

Early Staffordshire figures of Billy Waters give us a realistic glimpse of a notable individual of the early 1800s. Waters was a black peg-legged former American slave who entertained passers-by on London's streets then. He was a well-known character, and he even had a brief role in a play titled Life in London.

Whereas nearly all Staffordshire figures have companion models, Billy Waters figures like the one below left stand alone. An engraving of 1819 that served as the design source for the figure is shown alongside.

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So who was Douglas? Douglas was a character in a play  called Douglas written by John Home and first performed in 1756--and it remained popular into the nineteenth century. This tragedy, based on a Scottish ballad, tells of Lady Randolph, who secretly mourns Lord Douglas, her husband by a prior clandestine marriage, and their baby that she had abandoned. The baby is raised by a shepherd called Norval, and the child takes the name Young Norval. As the plot unfolds, Lady Randolph is reunited with Young Norval, who claims his father's name and becomes Douglas.

In the manner of its time, Douglas was sometimes performed on stage on the same evening as Life in London featuring Waters. Audiences might see both Douglas and Billy Waters for the same admission, so that explains this seemingly odd pairing. But I believe ignorance rather than a potter’s quirk accounts for Douglas’s peg leg! 

This pearlware slave in red and blue garb (colors symbolizing Liberty) kneels in praise. Broken chains are at his feet. The book on his knee reads BLESS GOD THANK BRITTON ME NO SLAVE. A Staffordshire potter (I suspect John Walton) made this figure to commemorate legislation of 1834 abolishing slavery in Britain’s colonies.This is a particularly rare figure. My friend Nick Burton who now deals in predominantly Victorian pottery at www.nickburtonenglishpottery.co.uk/  acquired it for me twenty years ago in a Yorkshire saleroom. I vaguely recall it making the local news because it was brought to the auction house with no expectation of it having any value--but it certainly did. Only this year have I seen another come to market. But I believe the prize goes to this figure for a few reasons: the red and blue colors of his clothing are the most appropriate for the subject and the most eye-catching; the mold is particularly crisp--just look at his hair; and, despite those raised arms just begging to be snapped off, the figure is in near-perfect condition with only a chipped finger. It is indeed a thing of beauty and will be a joy forever. 

When collectors die, their figures need to find new stewards, and so it is with the unrivaled collection that the legendary Texans Herbert and Nancy Hunt built over fifty years. Sadly, both Herbert and Nancy have passed away, but their collection lives on in the pages of my book Holding the Past: the William Herbert and Nancy Hunt Collection of Early English Pottery Figures. Copies are available in the US for $10 to cover media mail postage, which is slow but economical. If you want a copy, please email me.

If you live in the UK and want a copy, please let me know. I hope  to bulk mail books at a future date.

And if you want to acquire one of Herbert and Nancy's treasures, contact me and I will guide you.

My email address is [email protected]
 

Yet another video, this time telling the story of the Red Barn Murder. The figures are some of my favorites, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

​The video is on YouTube at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CGtL3QNgRYU. You can access it and my other videos via the Videos tab at the top of this page or by going directly to my YouTube channel, Early Antique Staffordshire Pottery FIgures.

Thanks to those of you who had kind and encouraging words about the very amateur YouTube videos I have produced to date. I struggled fearfully with those, was not happy with the results, and swore I would never do another. But never say never, and I hate admitting defeat, so I persevered and spent the last few weeks working on two new videos. The first showcases musicians, and there are lots of them! See the  link below.
 
Two hours after posting, I had my first feedback: "Absolutely wonderful." Admittedly, the figures are gorgeous--but all credit goes to the potters. If you don't want to listen to my voice, turn down the sound--but do watch this on a monitor rather than a teeny phone.

​The second video? Wait and see:).

My YouTube channel is Early Antique Staffordshire Pottery Figures, and you can see ALL my videos there. You can also access them via the Videos tab at the top of this page. The direct link for my latest offering is:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9bVDWYgb_WU&t=2s
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As some of you know, I include my definition of "figures" to include plaques with figural subjects, and recently, I was able to photograph two very special pairs of early Staffordshire pottery plaques that  fit my definition. Both pairs relate to the French Revolution and the Napoleonic wars that followed it.

The first pair commemorates King Louis XVI and Queen Marie Antoinette, who were both executed by guillotine before jeering crowds during the Reign of Terror. In January, 1793, Louis XVI faced his executioner with dignity. "I die innocent; I forgive my enemies," were his last words.That October, Marie Antoinette maintained her regal composure to the end, even apologizing to her executioner when she stepped on his foot. "Pardon, Monsier. I did not do it on purpose," were her last words.

Both plaques, appropriately edged in black, were probably made around 1793, and both are simply exquisite. Each is about 9.5" in height, in high relief, and carefully painted. Notice her tightly twisted ringlets and the ermine trimming her garment. She looks much as she does in her portraits, but he a little less so.

Initially, many British people sympathized with the French revolutionaries, but Louis' execution in January 1793 shocked the public to its core, and the next month Britain and France were at war. Europe united in a broad coalition against France that ushered in the Napoleonic era, which ended in 1815. 

The Battle of Vitoria in Spain in June 1813 was a decisive encounter in the Napoleonic era. Here, Britain under Wellington resoundingly defeat the French, who then fled from the Iberian peninsula. Vitoria was a  pivotal battle that led to Napoleon's abdication the following year, and the pair of plaques below celebrate two aspects of that conflict.

The first plaque depicting Wellington and two celebrating soldiers is impressed WELLINGTON and PEACE, At Vitoria, Wellington (then Arthur Wellesly, the Marquess of Wellington) commanded British, Portuguese, and Spanish forces, and King Joseph Bonaparte of Spain and Marshal Jean-Baptise Jourdan commanded the French army. It was Wellington's brilliant strategy that forced the French to retreat, thereby ending the French occupation of Spain.

The second plaque depicts soldiers with a canon and treasure chest. The impression PLUNDER  alludes to the chaotic, undisciplined British ransacking of wagons that the French army abandoned as it fled across the Pyrennes. All the armies in the the Peninsular War had looted local inhabitants without restraint, but the French had excelled. Their plunder, estimated then at GBP1 million, included national treasures, artworks from Spanish palaces, the contents of the French treasury, and Joseph Bonaparte's silver chamber pot! In July 1815, a Royal Warrant granted Wellington's army GBP800,000 for booty captured been 1809 and 1815, this no doubt being a sliver or the total haul. Painted on the cannon is180, but I don't know its significance,.

Each plaques has JUNE 1813 painted on the reverse. Both are of unusually fine quality and have been decorated carefully with silver luster. Their potter was, without doubt, a perfectionist. The enameling has been  executed with meticulously care--notice how the vine leaves on the second plaque have been both veined and outlined. Also the date, rather than the typical semi-legible scrawl, has been painstakingly executed. Both are particularly heavy because they were made from thick slabs of clay, and their backs have been carefully flattened and smoothed. I expect the potter used thick slabs to minimize shrinkage and buckling during firing, and he succeeded.

The only other plaque I have recorded commemorating Vitoria is quite different in appearance, but it is charming. It uses the same motifs as the first plaque (with modifications to the tree), and the ribbon on the left is impressed VITORIA rather than PEACE. As often happened, shrinkage in firing caused it to buckle slightly, and shrinkage also accounts for the central motif being a little smaller than that on the plaque made by the unknown potter with a type-A personality.

When a collector dies, his or her collection dies too. A fine collection is greater than the sum of its parts, so it always tears at my heart when a carefully assembled collection dies its own death, and its figures must move to new homes.

Herbert and Nancy Hunt were legendary Texans, renowned for Herbert's accomplished career in the global oil industry as well as their joint civic and philanthropic largesse. Their collection, assembled over fifty years, is catalogued in my book Holding the Past. Sadly, recently  both Herbert and Nancy have passed away,

The Hunt Collection is known for having no less than eight menageries, but to my mind its most impressive feature is the manner in which it was assembled. Nancy and Herbert had very different criteria for assessing potential acquisitions. Nancy often disliked a figure that Herbert found fascinating, and Herbert frequently had little interest in a figure Nancy considered charming, but there were no disagreements or reluctant approvals. If a figure pleased one of them, that was enough. Their collection reflected the unwavering support and deep affection that were keys to their seventy-two years of marriage. It was a tribute to their love.

Nancy and Herbert shared their hobby with a quiet passion, not driven by the need for recognition or status. Step by step, they built an unrivaled private collection. I was honored to share their collection with them, but, above all, I was privileged to know these two unassuming, considerate, and generous collectors. I lack words to adequately reflect my love and admiration. Their daughters, who now own the Hunt Collection, are thoughtfully and responsibly seeking new owners for many of the treasures their parents so carefully acquired. Some are already in appreciative new homes, with many more to follow.

I want to call to your attention to a small group of figures that comprise a "Natural Family"--a term that my friend the late Malcolm Hodkinson coined to describe figures made by the same pottery. The figures all have distinctive bases of the same form. Among them is this charming pair of musicians.

You may recall from my previous post this sweet pair on bases formed in much the same way. Clearly, they originated from the same pottery.

These figures all share a haunting naivety, and, for that reason, it has been suggested that Sherratt made them, but there is little doubt in my mind that they originated from some other unidentified pottery. Largest and most striking of all are the soldier and sailor below. Both are over 8 inches tall, and, I suspect, intended as companion models.

The slightly smaller figure below depicts the actress Maria Foote in the role of Ariette in The Little Jockey. Clearly, it is on the same base and belongs to this "natural family." As Miss Foote appeared in this role in January 1831, we can date this figure to no earlier than 1831---and I suspect that all the figures above were made in the 1830s too.

The design source is Orlando Hodgson's print titled ‘Miss Foote as the Little Jockey," and, as noted in the previous blog post, the figures of a boy and a girl-with-doll are also after  prints.

​And now, I digress. Miss Foote was a mediocre actress, but when she appeared,  as Ariette in breeches, she was the talk of the town. To add to her allure, she had a scandalous past, which included illegitimate children by the son of the Earl of Berkeley and a breach of promise suit against another suitor. By 1831, she was getting long in the tooth, by the standards of the day, so she retired that March to marry Charles Stanhope, the 4th Earl of Harrington.

Figures of Miss Foote as the Little Jockey were made into the Victorian era, even though her stage career was over. That seems surprising from today's perspective, but remember that The Death of Munrow figures were made into the 1830s, more than forty years after Lt. Munro succumbed to a tiger in 1792.

Miss Foote was not a great actress, but she was lauded for her beauty. Sherratt made the bust of her below, most likely in the 1830s when she was no longer a stage name.

Collecting early Staffordshire figures is as much about collecting memories as it is about amassing objects. More than twenty years ago, my good friend Nick Burton found an early Staffordshire figure of a girl holding her doll, and he acquired her for me. I seldom look at her, below, without remembering Nick's mother, who enjoyed  early doll houses and admired this small treasure as we had tea in her lovely home. ​

The majority of early figures were  made to pair, and this little girl too had a mate: a boy with his hands in his pockets. It irks me that in all the years I have not been able to find a perfect companion for her.  Potential matches were always too tall, too short, or a poor color match. The boy below left, for example, was too tall by almost an inch, and, whereas her pot is creamy, his was glaringly white. Better no marriage than a bad marriage. The boy on the right would have worked. At six inches, he was the correct height, but he had sold.

To my mind, these figures are all charming. How did we get from these to Ken and Barbie? The pottery that made them made two versions of the girl. As you see below (currently in the stock of RTS Antiques), the girl has a different, perhaps smaller, head.

Some of the girls and boys below appear to have porcellaneous bodies, and I suspect another pottery made some, if not all, of them.

Bigger can be better, and the figure of a girl with a doll that I covet is the whopper below. She is 11  inches tall, and I have only recorded two examples of her.

These big figures are entirely free-standing, with no stump behind them. They differ in the placement of the doll and other small details, so perhaps they come from two different potteries, but aren't both wonderful? My inner child craves one. I have yet to record the companion boy, but I live in hope.