Quite apart from their tactile, sculptural appeal, English relief molded jugs, produced in profusion in the last three quarters of the nineteenth century, yield some interesting insights to those who consider them carefully. Through various examples one can trace the progression of style trends from the neoclassical, to rococo and gothic revivals , and on to Japanese-inspired aesthetic movement designs. From the elaborately detailed designs of the century's first half to the later trend to simplify forms in the interest of function and cleanliness, they reflect a desire to provide a quality product for the expanding middle class market. Most of all, the variety of patterns result from the potter's urge to flex his muscles and to exercise the potential of developing manufacturing techniques.
Now and then a jug will provide not only these broad insights, but also a look at the personal interests of its maker. One such jug is Charles Meigh's 1844 "Bacchanalian Dance."
Dimensions: Height 7 in.
Mark: Pad Mark
Dates: Registered September, 1844
Price: $425.00 each
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A Connoisseur Potter
In his 1829 History of the Staffordshire Potteries, Simeon Shaw expresses admiration for C. Meigh, Esq., second generation of his family's proprietorship of the Old Hall pottery works. Meigh, he says,
is esteemed for his firmness and decision of character, the arts have not a more liberal patron, for his means; nor the poor and defenceless a more firm protector. His modesty and candour are of general notice; and his friendship has never been known to be affected by the vicissitudes of fortune; nor has his kindness been withheld when the suffering could be alleviated (1).
Among these virtues it is his patronage of the arts that is of interest to us. In his Relief Molded Jugs 1820-1900, R. K. Henrywood further cites an 1846 description of Meigh's own collection of pictures, numbering over 200 examples of the works of admired artists (2). His artistic sophistication is demonstrated in his painstaking treatment of gothic architectural detail in his "Apostles" jug and in the complex elements of his depiction of Neptune's wife Amphitrite.

But even more revealing of his reverence for the masters is his jug celebrating the liberating, inebriating effects of wine.
In his "Bacchanalian Dance" jug, Meigh chose to recreate in relief two paintings by seventeenth century masters--Nicholas Poussin and Peter Paul Rubens. To provide a form to present these tableaus without distortion he created a most original shape centering on a cylinder with a straight sided profile. Around this band he wraps the two compositions, one to a side. Above and below the jug swells with a bounty of grape vines, forming an appropriately exuberant frame for the works of the baroque masters.
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The Poussin painting is today known by the unwieldy title "Bacchanalian Revel Before a Term of Pan."

The Rubens Side
Bad Habits Passed Down
More Silenus(es)



Acknowledgements and NotesEarlier this year, some of us caught the excitement of change as we watched it catch hold in the eastern Mediterranean and Africa. What an amazing phenomenon, this movement mounted by citizens on cell phones, Facebook, Twitter and the internet and the revolution they staged from within. As freedom loving people, we celebrate their victories while wondering how they will conquer the challenges they have brought upon themselves.
Now and then when we first encounter a piece of transferware, we are totally puzzled. This is one such case. What initially appears to be simply another piece of romantic tableware in fact reveals an enigmatic scene--a man and woman sit in a park surrounding an elaborate onion domed palace. Typical enough, except the man appears to be weeping into his hands. Closer examination reveals a horseman wearing a distinctive, possibly military cap rounding the corner in the middle distance. Turning to the backstamp we find an innocuous enough pattern name, "Polish Views," but also a scene title that clearly indicates that something darker is involved, "A Tear for Poland." Transferware authority Dick Henrywood tells us that Phillip's "Polish Views" series includes these additional scenes: "Patriot's Departure," "Polish Prisoner," "The Enquiry," "The Messenger," "Wearied Poles," and "Wounded Poles."(1) These are hardly the subjects one expects to find in a pattern based merely on regional scenery.
And the rest of Europe . . . grieved. The Poles did not grieve alone for their lost homeland. The same jubilation which had met the news of the American successes in the 1770's turned to lamentation with the news of the annihilation of the Polish state in 1795. Zamoyski details the expression of this widespread despair in the arts. Samuel Taylor Coleridge wrote of "murdered Hope," in a sonnet bewailing Polish military leader Kosciuszko's defeat. In the public imagination, the Polish patriot took on a hallowed status not unlike Washington, a paragon of Spartan virtue. Dwelling on the Polish freedom fighters capture, the Scots poet Thomas Campbell spoke for the public in his lines: "Hope, for a season, bade the world farewell, / And Freedom shriek'd -- as Kosciuszko fell!" George Galloway, another Scottish poet published a book of poetry around the theme of Poland, The Tears of Poland (Edinburgh, 1795) (4). In France even Jacques-Louis David caught the Polish mania with his design for the appropriate dress for delegates to the French Convention in 1794-- a combination of pseudo Roman garb topped off with the traditional Polish konfederatka cap.(5) The heroic aspect of the Polish struggle against overwhelming odds provided grist for the public imagination, stirring outrage in the cause of martyred innocence.
With the onset of the nineteenth century and the frustration of many of the hopes for change, revolutionary zeal gave way to the introspection and frequent despair of the Romantic movement. In preceding decades great change was dreamed of and achieved. In this new age, one could only dream of the feats of other days with no hope of impacting the structure of power which had been re-established over Europe with the end of the Napoleonic wars. Throughout Europe, a surfeit of out-of-work soldiers struggled to return to the boredom of everyday life after the glories and excitement of war. Furthermore, a generation raised to dream of nothing but the excitement of service now felt cheated and disillusioned with the advent of peace. Together these segments only added to a general sense of silent resignation and despondency.
The shift in mood was particularly pertinent to Poland. Poland's fate continued to be subject to foreign masters, first Napoleon, later Czar Alexander I, Catherine's grandson, who saw it as his mission to re-establish the noble state. However, as Alexander saw himself as head, conflicts soon developed as the Poles started to strive for self determination. Alexander pre-empted any sense of independence generating a state of constant tension, conflict and of hopelessness. In 1830 yet another uprising was defeated. In Paris Frederic Chopin expressed his anxiety for friends and family back in Warsaw, generating one of the supreme Romantic expressions of Polish concern and despair. This was his Scherzo in B minor Op. 20 and his "Revolutionary" Etude, in C minor, Op. 10, No. 12.
This sense of a lost cause provides the immediate context for the titles in Phillips' "Polish Views" series with their references to prisoners, wounds, weariness and tears. This is a pattern that reflects not only the specific Polish cause, but also the larger Romantic disposition. 