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,[2] 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—

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.