
Every Picture Tells a Story ...
However simple or complicated the subject of a picture, print or photograph, every picture tells a story. But decoding that narrative is not always easy — and in some cases may prove to be downright impossible.
The world-famous Bonzo and his adventures fit into the easy category. The fictional cartoon character Bonzo the Dog was first created in 1922 by British comic-strip artist George Studdy. The pup quickly rose in popularity in the 1920s. He starred in one of the world’s first cartoon strips, became an inspiration for mass-marketed merchandise, and became a favorite among children and adults.
He had a loveable vibe and look, was white, chubby with a droopy face and saggy skin. He had big blue eyes and expressive ears that communicated his feeling to the audience. He had one black ear, some small black spots on his body and a short, stubby tail.
In this cartoon the gate-crashing Bonzo rushes in on Ooloo and Binkie, who are about to eat their food, pushes the startled pair to one side and sits to enjoy their food.
Probably far more familiar than Bonzo is the “British Bulldog,” once the ultimate symbol of patriotism and defiance, particularly in times of conflict. “What We’ve Got We’ll Hold” was published as a cover illustration to the Navy and Army Illustrated, a magazine that covered historical and contemporary military matters first published in 1895. Two determined-looking Bulldogs stand firm on the Union Jack on the coast of the English Channel dividing Britain from France, with the French tricolor waving to one side in defiance.
Far removed from the such well-known figures as Bonzo and patriotic Bulldogs is 10-year-old Lawrence Russell’s personal reflections of daily life in his rural village. His faithful Labrador is center stage, home comforts are recalled with the contented sleeping cat, sheep are in the pasture, a rider clears a fence, a farmer ploughs his land; the tranquillity of this quiet rural idyll is disturbed when a Lockheed 930 flies low over the village.
Another personal reflection of a day in his life is Sir Richard Leighton’s pen-and-ink sketch, and like the 10-year-old boy, a dog is an important part. It was drawn at a time when Britain was at war; he is far away from the conflict, but members of his family distinguished themselves in previous conflicts. It shows Sir Richard himself, gun over his shoulder, his faithful Irish Water Spaniel beside him. They have arrived at a gamekeeper’s cottage, and on the far distant hill is Admiral Rodney’s Pillar. It was built in 1781-82 to commemorate the naval victories of Sir George Brydges Rodney, Admiral of the White during the American War of Independence. The timber for his ship was cut from Sir Richard’s estate.
Primarily due to the cruelty of street traders with their carting dogs and the belief that overworked dogs were more susceptible to rabies, the use of dog carts was banned in the U.K. in 1841. It was not before there had been an extensive debate in parliament with many of the lords (for they were the ones that wielded power) speaking strongly against the practice.
The Marquess of Westminster said: “There is much pain and suffering. He had received representation from various parts of the country pointing out the cruelty of the practice, and the demoralizing effects that attended it. One instance was given in which a man ripped up a dog and gave the entrails to two other dogs to eat. These dog carts were, besides, the cause of numerous accidents from frightening horses, and there was scarcely a person accustomed to ride out with his family who did not experience the dangers that arose.”
The engraving of the upturned cart, two dogs dancing, another raising its tankard, shows the joy and pleasure that after hundreds of years dog carting has finally come to an end. The woman sitting is distraught with the realization that her livelihood has been taken from her.
The history of dog grooming goes back a very long way, as far back even as ancient Egypt. It was though not until the 19th Century that trimming became a profession. The practice for trimming Poodles has its roots in the days when the breed was a working breed. Leaving hair on the chest and joints acted as some protection from the cold and wet.
In the late Georgian period, the Poodle moved from a working dog with its roots in Germany, to one of fashion. Georgian “dandies” took to the breed as an accompaniment when promenading in public parks in London and other metropolitan cities. Poodle trimmers became a regular sight along the banks of the River Seine in Paris, so much so that they attracted the attention of many artists.
The color print “Les Tondeuses de Chien” was published in 1820 from the work of John James Chalon, a Swiss-born painter who became active in England. Among the subjects he specialized in was animal life.
There is obviously a dramatic story behind my final picture that was painted by the Italian artist Riccardo Pellegrini, who worked toward the end of the 19th Century and well into the 20th, completing landscapes and urban scenes from his native Italy and from his trip to Spain, England and France. Inquire as I have in England and with friends in Italy, no one has any knowledge of such an incident. Where was the sailing ship, carrying so many small dogs, travelling from and to, and for what reason, when it was overcome by such a dramatic incident? Another sailing ship comes alongside, and the dogs are carefully lifted to safety and a future of which we have no knowledge. It came to auction with Casa D’aste Capitoluim in Italy with expectations of up to Euros 600,000.