Pierced and set with cornelians, the solid gold plaque is modelled in relief with a scene depicting Atalanta hunting the great boar that had laid waste the lands of King Oineus, sent as a punishment for his failure to give thanks to Artemis after a successful harvest. At the heart of the lively scene, Atalanta has just fired the arrow that will bring down the boar. This classical Greek legend was popular with Renaissance artists.
Simon knew the legend and, more importantly, he knew of similar gold plaques in a museum in Berlin. He suggested that together they formed a set of six, originally intended to be mounted on a magnificent ebony cabinet made for the Borghese family. At some point, the cabinet had been lost or destroyed, but the plaques had survived, despite being made of gold. At one time the plaques were attributed to Cellini, but Simon knew that this was not now the case, though he was unable to identify the actual maker.
The owner knew little, except that it had been bought by her father in a sale at a time when such wonderful things were still accessible to a collector. Valued at £50,000 in 1991, this Renaissance gold plaque would now fetch at least ten times that, or even very much more.
‘I know nothing about it – it just lives on the mantelpiece. It isn’t even insured.’
When the Roadshow visited Birmingham in 2000, the highlight of the day turned out to be a small pottery head and shoulders model of a Turk wearing a turban. Crudely modelled and brightly coloured, it seemed at first sight to be only of limited interest. However, John Sandon knew better, recognising it at once as an extremely unusual example of early English Delftware.
Delft is a widely used term to describe earthenware covered with an opaque, white, tin glaze and then freehand painted in blue and other colours. Also known as faience and maiolica, this type of pottery was made in many countries from the Middle Ages to the nineteenth century. Spain, Italy, France, Germany and Holland were the main centres of production, with the term Delft, or Delftware, reflecting the Dutch origins of many of the styles, shapes and designs. The inspiration was mostly Far Eastern, with the white-glazed pottery being a crude attempt at imitating the look of white Chinese porcelain. At the same time, the Middle East was also important, with many styles echoing the period of Islamic domination in southern Europe.
AN EXTREMELY RARE EXAMPLE
Dutch and Italian potters probably brought the technique to Britain in the seventeenth century and, for a while, blue and white and polychrome Delftware was the most significant type of pottery made in Britain between the 1650s and the early eighteenth century. It was then replaced by the much improved white earthenwares and creamwares developed in Staffordshire from the 1730s. There were a number of Delftware production centres, although the main ones were in London, Liverpool and Bristol. Most potters produced functional domestic pottery, plates, dishes, bowls, mugs and tiles, with blue being the dominant colour. However, ceremonial chargers and punchbowls were also made, some with complex polychrome decoration that sometimes echoed Chinese styles and others with royal portraits or biblical scenes.
The young lady owner who had brought in the Turk figure knew nothing about it, other than that her aunt had lived in the same house since the 1920s, and had always had it on the mantelpiece until she died, aged 94. When the owner inherited it, she had thought nothing of it but had kept it because her aunt had liked it.
John Sandon then told her about English Delftware, and identified the Turk’s head model as an extremely rare and early example, probably dating from the late seventeenth century. Although tin-glazed figure models were not unusual in Italy, France or Holland, very few were made by British potters. A number were recorded, including figures of Charles I and Apollo, along with a curious comic character called No-Body, from a play called No-Body and Some-Body, published in 1606. Also popular were cats, both seated and lying down, with a version of the seated cat serving as a jug. John explained that the Turk’s head was particularly unusual and, though it had a maker’s mark on the base, he was not able to identify it.
A FAMILIAR MOTIF
The Turk’s head is a familiar decorative motif in British history, with its origins probably linked to the Crusades. All over Britain, and particularly in sea ports, there are pubs called The Turk’s Head. There is also a knot called a Turk’s Head, and decorative pottery and porcelain featuring Turkish-style figures was popular throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. This Delftware Turk’s head was probably inspired by a European model, and thus may have been made by a potter with European connections. Despite some chips and minor damage – not unusual with Delftware – John was confident that the Delftware Turk’s head would fetch £50,000.
Sometime later, the Turk’s head appeared in a ceramics sale at the auctioneers Phillips in London, but failed to sell. It was then sold privately to an American collector, via a leading London dealer who specialised in early English pottery, for a sum roughly equivalent to John’s Roadshow valuation. At the time, it was one of the most important examples of early English pottery to have been discovered by the Roadshow.
A PAIR OF REGENCY PEAT BUCKETS
An unexpected find at the Whitchurch Leisure Centre in 2001 concerned a pair of massive peat buckets, made in Dublin at the start of the nineteenth century. Christopher Payne was delighted to be able to examine the buckets and discuss them with the owners, because eighteenth and early nineteenth century Irish furniture is rarely seen on the Roadshow, especially in England. He explained, ‘Peat buckets weren’t made in England, Scotland or Wales and so these are rare and highly desirable. I love the swirling ribbing that goes all the way down the bucket; this is exceptional as the usual decoration is parallel ribbing. The brass bands show that they were made the same way as barrels. They are also the largest peat buckets I have ever seen.’
As Irish woodlands were steadily depleted from the sixteenth century onwards, the peat bogs became the primary source of fuel for both homes and industry. The gathering of peat turf was, therefore, necessary at all levels of society, although landowners generally had the right to cut the peat. Buckets such as these would have stood either side of the main fireplace in a grand house, topped up by the servants from peat stores in the outhouses.
These buckets had a lovely patina, the result of having been in the same family since they were made, and thus in regular use for decades. In their way, they were classic examples of Irish furniture, with distinctive details and styling that set them apart from English furniture of the Georgian period.
Christopher pointed out that their poor condition was part of their appeal. ‘They have been heavily used for nearly 200 years and, frankly, they were falling apart. One was held together with binder twine and the brass bands were loose. They needed a bit of work and a good polish but they were far more