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The article below appeared in Country Life Illustrated,
August 12th 1899. George Barcroft, son of Jonathan Barcroft, like his
father was an excellent handler. He won the trial with Lassie. The article
has been retyped for the convenience of the viewer. If you read it, one
is able to see how the reporter at the Tring 1897 trial reported on the
trial; one wonders about the motives of the reporter who wrote the
article below. In any event, George won the trial. Lassie was not,
however, a beardie-like canine.
Sheepdogs at llangollen
Mr. Barcroft and Lassie.
It is again a pleasure and duty to congratulate that eminently
public-spirited land-owner, Captain Best, upon the complete success
of the annual sheepdog trials in Plasyn Vivod Park. They are always
interesting to watch, and they have never been more pleasant than
they were this year. One special merit is peculiar to all sheepdog
trials into the arrangement of which intelligence enters: they are
easy to watch. The men who work the dogs, and the dogs who work the
sheep, may have some hard exercise. The spectators can see all the
beautiful and intricate operations in the display of one of the most
wonderful accomplishments ever taught by man to dog without any
exertion at all. At Vivod, indeed, this advantage is present in an
exceptional measure, for so agreeable and convenient are the
contours of that splendid landscape that two sets of trials may be
carried on simultaneously in full view of the spectators. Another
merit of Vivod is that the local gallery is made up of expert
critics. Those acute natives of the Berwyns know from experience all
the wiles of which a sheepdog is capable, and all the innumerable
difficulties which the wiry sheep of the Welsh mountains can place
in the way of the best sheepdog that ever was whelped. Entries came
from all parts of the country in which the sheep are worthy of the
attention of an accomplished sheepdog—for the sheepdog of the moor
and the mountain-side is accustomed to deal with sheep as agile as
the deer or the goat, and when brought face to face with Lowland
sheep he must regard them as ponderous elephants. So, although the
Welshmen enter their dogs largely, the men of the Lake Country and
of the Yorkshire wilds also come into the competition; and the
result is a very pretty exhibition, watched with acute interest by
the country gentry, and with even more interest by the people of the
place. The spirit of the spectators is that of lawyers listening to
an acute argument, of actors witnessing a dramatic performance, of
painters studying an exhibition of pictures. They are men, and women
too, whose praise is no empty compliment, but a thing worth having.
"Handsome is that handsome does," and "By their fruits ye shall
know them," are the guiding principles at Vivod, and we note with
some amusement the comments of a contemporary on the appearance of
some of the performers. Lady, the property of Mr. W. Akrigg, of
Garsdale, is described as "quite part of the whole duty of a
sheepdog," Cymro was found wanting; he was not tractable. Now the
dog who is not tractable may be a collie, but he is not a sheepdog.
The astute Welsh shepherd will have none of him. He cannot afford to
keep picture dogs any more than his wife can afford to wear picture
hats. If the picture dog will work, well and good; if not, all
considerations of good looks go absolutely to the wall, and the
workman not only carries the day at the trials, but fetches the
price in the market.
Releasing the Sheep
Penned
It is no part of our purpose to print the prize list, or to
attempt to emulate the author of "Owd Bob" (the best dog novel we
know), in describing how, one after another, the dogs drove
their unruly sheep round the flag, through the gap, and round
the hurdles into the pen. Nor shall we launch into dithy-rambic
prose concerning the double trials, in which braces of dogs
worked nine sheep over an appointed course. Nor, certainly,
shall we say anything more of the appearances of the dogs—perhaps,
indeed, the less said the better. There has been a marked
improvement in the appearance of Welsh sheepdogs during the last
twenty years, but we think it may still be said that there is no
part of the kingdom where sheepdogs are of any importance in
which the dogs look worse or work better. We would gladly see
the improvement in appearance progress, so long as it is not
accompanied by a corresponding loss of workmanlike qualities.
Yet, even in writing the word "improvement," we feel that we may
be treading on the verge of fallacy. Twenty years ago, the
distinction between the Scotch collie and the Welsh sheepdog was
far more marked than it is now. The latter might be, usually
was, nondescript; the alleged improvement represents a gradual
approach towards the Scotch and North Country type. So far as
looks go the improvement is marked, but we are by no means sure
there has been any improvement, or even that there has not been
a falling-off, in the quality of workmanship. It is hard to
believe, as you look at many Welsh sheepdogs, that they are the
result of careful and even scientific breeding. Often they are
under-sized. The pied markings of some of them are undeniably
ugly; so are the wall eyes which are all too prevalent. You may
see them with coats like that of a Manchester terrier, or broken
like those of a fox and otter hound cross, or long like those of
the true collie. They have a slinking gait, and little or no
nobility of demeanour. They are for the most part shocking
cowards, and very treacherous. In no part of the country are the
dogs of the lonely farmhouse more likely to bite the passer-by,
and they are not above doing this even after making a
preliminary demonstration of friendliness. But they have the
saving quality of supreme intelligence, and it is upon this that
the shepherd sets his heart, and towards this that he aims in
breeding. It has happened to the writer to buy a Welsh sheepdog
for farm purposes, and under Welsh advice. The Mentor barely
looked at the appearance of the puppy. If it had good legs and
feet and a lithe body that was enough for him. It might have
been of all the colours of the rainbow for all he cared. But it
came from, let us say, Nantyglo; and all the Nantyglo dogs were
reputed clever, and that was all that mattered.
Working the Sheep
Sheepdogs at Llangollen The Double Stakes
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