KING CHARLES SPANIELS
Edwin Henry Landseer was the most
gifted member of a family of artists. His father
was a well-known engraver, and his brother Thomas
distinguished himself in the same profession.
As soon as he could hold a pencil, the boy Edwin began
to draw. The family were then living in the outskirts
of London, and there were open fields near the house.
Here the future animal painter used to spend
long afternoons sketching cows and sheep, and at the
end of the day his father would criticise his work.
At an early age the young artist began
to show a preference for the dog above other animals.
A drawing of a foxhound made when he was five years
old is still exhibited as a remarkable production.
At the age of fourteen he became a pupil at the Royal
Academy, “a bright lad with light curling hair,
and a very gentle, graceful manner and much manliness
withal.” The following year all the critics
were surprised when he exhibited an admirable portrait
of a dog called Brutus. The painter Fuseli was
at this time at the head of the Academy, and was very
fond of his precocious pupil, whom he playfully called
his “little dog boy,” in reference to
the Brutus.
It was by means of another dog picture
that the artist took his next step towards fame.
“The Fighting Dogs” was a remarkable work
for a painter sixteen years old, and upon its exhibition
in 1818 it was purchased by an English nobleman.
This was the real beginning of Landseer’s professional
career, and from this time forward his success was
assured.
It became a fashion among people of
means to bring their dogs to Landseer for their portraits.
He even counted royalty among his patrons, painting
the favorite pets of Queen Victoria and her husband,
Prince Albert.
The spaniels of our picture were the
pets of a certain Mr. Vernon, who not unnaturally
deemed the beautiful little creatures a worthy subject
for a master’s brush. This kind of dog,
as its name implies, is supposed to have come originally
from Spain. Both Stuart kings, Charles I. and
Charles II., were specially fond of the breed, each
having a favorite variety. One of the dukes of
Marlborough was also a lover of spaniels, and imported
into England the variety called, from his palace,
the Blenheim. The difference of color between
the King Charles and the Blenheim is seen in the picture,
the former being black and tan, with a few white touches;
the other white, with spots of liver color. Both
have characteristic silky coats, round heads, big
lustrous eyes set wide apart, and long ears hanging
in folds.
The little dogs lie side by side on
a table. The Blenheim has his paws over the edge,
resting his nose comfortably upon them. The King
Charles nestles upon the brim of a high-crowned hat
ornamented with a long ostrich plume drooping over
the brim. Such a hat was worn among the Cavaliers
or king’s party in the reign of Charles I.; hence
the title of the Cavalier’s Pets, often given
to the picture. The hat, it must be understood,
serves an important artistic purpose in the composition,
the height, from crown to feather tip, relieving the
otherwise flat effect of the picture.
The attention of the dogs seems attracted
by some object across the room. It is the painter
talking to them soothingly over his sketch: he
has learned the secret of dog language. As his
pencil moves rapidly over the paper, they watch him
with wide eyes, full of wonder but with no fear.
They are like spoiled children gazing at a visitor
with an expression half wilful, half beseeching.
The fresh ribbon bows they wear are evidence of the
fond care bestowed upon them.
Though the spaniel is not of the highest
order of canine intelligence, it is an affectionate
and lovable pet often known to fame in distinguished
company. Tradition has it that it was one of these
little creatures which followed the unfortunate Mary
Stuart to the executioner’s block
“The little dog that licked her
hand, the last of all the crowd
Which sunned themselves beneath her glance
and round her footsteps
bowed.”
It is also supposed that Sir Isaac
Newton’s little dog Diamond was a spaniel, the
mischief-maker who destroyed his master’s priceless
calculations, and drew from the philosopher the mild
exclamation, “Diamond, Diamond, thou little
knowest the mischief thou hast done.” Again,
it was a spaniel whom Elizabeth Barrett Browning cherished
as the companion of weary hours of illness and confinement.
The charming verses to Flush celebrate the dog’s
beauty and affection.
The history of our picture illustrates
Landseer’s remarkable facility of workmanship.
After making the first sketch at Mr. Vernon’s
house in Pall Mall, the painter was for a long time
too busy to do any further work upon it. One
day artist and patron chanced to meet upon the street,
and the former was reminded of his promise. The
sketch was taken out and, two days later, the finished
painting was delivered to the owner. The picture
lost nothing, however, by the haste with which it
was executed. A competent critic (Cosmo Monkhouse)
has said that Landseer never excelled it as a piece
of painting. Much praise has been bestowed upon
the few dexterous strokes which have so perfectly
reproduced the texture of the plume on the hat.
Even in the black and white reproduction we can appreciate
some of the best points of the picture.