While writing my personal statement for university applications I read a number of books by Keith Thomas, a rather distinguished early modern historian who I later found out had been a fellow at my College. His books are always readable and full (sometimes too full) of entertaining anecdotes – I still remember the story from The Ends of Life of the poor Suffolk rector who was hounded out of his parish for eating custard in a scandalous manner (by, I think, liberally lacing it with alcohol).
One of Thomas’ books, Man and the Natural World, attempts to provide an overview of English attitudes to the natural world in the early modern period. The chapter on pets makes particularly interesting reading for me after having adopted a cat of my own. Thomas argues that by 1700, “all the symptoms of obsessive pet-keeping were in evidence”. In many cases, animals were cosseted, dressed up, went everywhere with their owners, and were often better fed than the servants. People built tombs and obelisks for their deceased pets, wrote heartfelt eulogies, and left legacies for their upkeep if they could afford it. Ladies were thought to be particularly susceptible to over-indulgent treatment of pets and attracted a barrage of misogynistic criticism for it.
Pets also increasingly formed part of family portraits, “usually as a symbol of fidelity, domesticity and completeness, though sometimes…as an emblem of mischievous irreverence”. Below, I gathered a number of the most intriguing portraits which feature pets from the 16th to 20th centuries. These sitters sometimes included animals to make an ideological point about youth or domesticity or virtue, but clearly many owners were just very fond of them.
Princess Victoria with her pet spaniel, Dash. The artist chose to draw out Dash’s playful side; he appears to have stolen one of Victoria’s gloves. This lightheartedness possibly serves to emphasise Victoria’s tender age. Rather sadly, one of her biographers described Dash as Victoria’s closest childhood friend, growing up as she did highly isolated from other children.I adore this cat’s disgruntled expression. It even looks a bit like its owner, Henry Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton. Keith Thomas says that this 1603 portrait, which commemorates the Earl’s stay in the Tower of London after Essex’s failed rebellion, depicts ‘an extremely sleek and alert cat [which was] his companion in imprisonment’ (p. 109).William Lowndes, Auditor of His Majesty’s Court of Exchequer, by Thomas Gainsborough (1771). I find this painting quite intriguing since Lowndes sits solemn-faced, gazing away from the viewer, whereas his little spaniel stares straight at the viewer, with movement suggested by the bright eyes and slightly open mouth. I like to think that the dog may have provided Lowndes with love and companionship in his later years.Mr Andrews and his dog are depicted by Gainsborough in classic 18th century English style. Andrews, dressed in simple countryside gear, leans casually to one side, legs crossed, with his hunting dog gazing loyally up at him. 1750.Pompeo Batoni, a portraitist who was extremely popular among British expats in Italy, has injected life into this portrait of Lady Mary Fox by including her pet dog, which looks as if it is about to move at any moment.Henrietta Child’s cat doesn’t look delighted at being dressed up in a frilly collar and cap, much like the unfortunate subjects of cat calendars now. I think the adornments make the cat look oddly similar to Lady Mary Fox, above.Sophia Dumergue has a hideous cap and a pretty cat. Johann Zoffany, 1780.Was this cat semi-invisible in the original portrait, or have the colours suffered age-related damage? Either way, the cat’s lamp-like eyes peering out from the darkness are somewhat disconcerting. ‘Jeune Fille au Chat’ (1896).Imported monkeys can’t have come cheap in the 16th century, so their inclusion in portraits like this was as much about signifying wealth and status as depicting a favourite pet. This is a detail from a portrait of the Rietberg family by the German painter Hermann tom Ring.Something about this three-way relationship between animal, sitter and viewer strikes me as unusual and highly engaging. The cat is so prominent that it is almost as if there are two sitters. My first instinct about this portrait was that the woman’s protective hold of the cat bespeaks an emotional closeness not seen in many pet paintings from this time. However, some critics theorise that the cat, and the intimate way in which it is held, is all part of displaying the woman (possibly a courtesan) as an object of sexual temptation. Francesco Bacchiacca, early 16th century.Squirrels had been popular pets in England since the 14th century, though these animals may also function as an allusion to the sitter, who is widely presumed to be Anne Lovell. The Lovell family displayed a squirrel on their coat of arms, and were connected to a Norfolk village which was then commonly called ‘Estharling’ (hence, ‘a starling’). Hans Holbein the Younger, c. 1526-8.This very young boy appears fond of animals. Their inclusion captures his age nicely, notwithstanding his stiff and formal adult clothes, which were de rigeur in paintings of children at this time. By Juan Carreno de Miranda (c. 1680).Jean-Baptiste Perronneau – ‘A Girl with a Kitten’. This kitten gives the viewer a rather wicked and gleeful stare, which contrasts with its owner’s demure expression.This girl is obviously fond of her cat, but it looks less than fond of her at this moment; presumably she had to restrain it to sit still for the portrait. Charles Winter, 1851.This portrait of Jakob Philipp Hackert contains a nice touch of animal mischief, though I think the cat is somewhat oddly-proportioned.Catherine of Aragon with her pet monkey. As with the portrait of the Rietberg sisters above, the monkey also functions as a sign of its owner’s wealth and status.Strictly speaking, this doesn’t fit the theme – this peasant woman was hardly likely to have paid David Rijckaert (1612-1661) for the privilege of painting her cat. It may even be an imaginary scene, but it’s too adorable to leave out.I had to look up this rather ungainly animal – apparently it’s a stoat. The lady is Cecilia Gallerani, the Duke of Milan’s mistress, painted by Leonardo da Vinci in c. 1490. The stoat could well be a pet, though (more prosaically) it may be a reference to the Duke’s receiving the chivalric Order of the Ermine around that time. The portrait makes an interesting contrast to Bacchiacca’s work, above, which I personally find more engaging.I wonder how much of this cat’s affection is the result of begging for food from this resplendent, heavily-laden table. The painting is ‘A Merchant’s Wife at Tea’ (1918), by Boris Kustodiev, who specialised in rather delightful Russian genre scenes.A favourite greyhound of Prince Albert, by Edwin Landseer, 1841. Upper class patrons would commission expensive individual portraits of their dogs and horses. Benjamin Marshall (d. 1835) quipped that ‘I discover many a man who will pay me fifty guineas for painting his horse who thinks ten guineas too much to pay for painting his wife’.‘Girl in Red Dress with Cat and Dog’ – painted by New England artist Ammi Phillips sometime between 1830 and 1835.I think this dog was painted delightfully, with beautiful eyes and lots of character. It probably helped that this was a portrait of the artist’s wife (and presumably, his dog). Robert Bunny, 1902.A double portrait of Henry the Pious, Duke of Saxony and his wife Katharina von Mecklenburg, which shows how different breeds of dog were considered suitable for men and women. By Lucas Cranach the Elder.
Further reading
Keith Thomas, Man and the Natural World: Changing Attitudes in England 1500-1800 (Penguin, 1984)
