The humble pug has long been the darling dog of royalty

'Give or take the odd corgi, pugs have long been the darling of royalty,' Country Life reported in 1995. The snub-nosed little dog, Chinese in origin, has the Dutch royal family to thank for its popularity after the House of Orange first took delivery of a pug in the 16th century, amid the cargo of a Dutch East India Company ship returning from the Far East.

The first celebrated pug in European history is Pompey, the silver dog who thwarted the assassination of William the Silent of Holland by barking and warning him of the Spanish attack at Hermingny in 1572. This incident is attributed to the subsequent popularity of pugs at the Dutch court, who would have orange ribbons attached to their collars, marking them as treasured royal mascots.

William III and Queen Mary brought the dogs to London in 1688, where they were first known as Dutch mastiffs, presumably on account of their fawn coats, Country Life mused in 1931. The breed retained its position of court darling throughout the Hanoverian era, and it was during the reign of George III, whose wife, Charlotte, was 'an enthusiastic lover of the breed' that they reached the pinnacle of popularity.

Indeed, a charming inclusion of William Hogarth’s self-portrait of 1745 is the painter’s pug, Trump, 'an amiable-looking rogue said to echo his master’s personality,' Country Life suggested in 1990. Porcelain models of Trump were also made at the Chelsea Porcelain Factory at about the same time, thought to have been based on a terracotta modeled by sculptor Louis-François Roubiliac.

Queen Victoria bred pugs in the royal kennels at Windsor (she had 36), and in 1897, the Princess of Wales’s decision to take up 'the eccentric variety of black pugs' was reported: 'In consequence, they are likely to become fashionable this year.' The newly trendy black pugs had been introduced to Britain by Lady Brassey in 1886.

Pugs have also been resident at Glyndebourne, East Sussex, since the 1870s, commemorated by the two stone pugs that support the bust of John Christie — the opera festival’s founder — that stands outside the theatre. Country Life reported in 1995 that if the resident pugs were to leave, 'the opera house would close — just as the Royal Family would fall if the ravens left the Tower of London.'

With their deep Churchillian wrinkles, stocky and compact stature, and big personalities (the breed’s motto is multum in parvo — much in little) the breed would also captivate the Duke and Duchess of Windsor who were intensely devoted to their 11 pugs, treating them like royalty. When Country Life visited the villa at 4 route du Champ d’Entraînement in an architectural capacity in 1987, John Cornforth detailed that: 'Pugs, indeed, are almost a leit-motif in the house, and if live ones are no longer snuffling around, there are endless reminders of them in pictures, photographs, china and velvet.'

In Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park, Lady Bertram’s pug can be seen to personify the indolence of the aristocracy, and Marie-Antoinette’s fondness for the breed has not helped their reputation as louche lapdogs.

However, Country Life attested in 1931 that pugs 'are attractive little pets provided they are brought up in a hardy manner and are not spoilt by excessive coddling. They should be kept on plain fare given in moderation, for it is easy to ruin their shape by an excess of fat.' This feeling was echoed in 1953, when the magazine detailed that 'the popular conception of the pug-dog as a fat, snuffling, pampered creature, suitable to be only a ladies’ pet, is most unfair to a little dog, who, if properly treated, is an active, intelligent creature with a great deal of character and individuality. [The breed] makes no claim to being either an athlete or a sportsman, but if his tendency to greed and consequent corpulence is restrained, he enjoys a good walk either in town or country, and, given the opportunity, is not above taking an interest in rats.'

Certainly, the breed’s tenacity can be best seen in Fortuné, the dearly loved companion of Joséphine Beauharnais, who delivered messages (under his collar) between Joséphine and her family when she was imprisoned at Les Carmes. In 1796, upon drawing back the bedcovers on his wedding night, Napoleon Bonaparte’s leg met the bombastic little pug, who promptly took a chunk out of it. It would seem the emperor bore no malice, and he would later write to Joséphine: 'A million kisses even to Fortuné, notwithstanding his naughtiness.'

This is an extract from 'The Country Life Book of Dogs' (Rizzoli, £50) by Agnes Stamp.