Landseer Part 3

V

THE TWA DOGS

The Scotch poet Robert Burns, who died a few years before Landseer's birth, was a kindred spirit of the painter in his love of dogs and his sense of humor. An early picture by Landseer ill.u.s.trating the poem of "The Twa Dogs" fits the verses as if painter and poet had worked together. We are told that Burns once had a collie which he named Luath, after a dog in Ossian's "Fingal." The favorite came to an untimely end, through some one's cruelty, and the poet was inconsolable. He determined to immortalize Luath in a poem, and this is the history of the tale of "The Twa Dogs."

The poem relates how

"Upon a bonny day in June When wearing through the afternoon, Twa dogs, that were na thrang[6] at hame, Forgather'd ance upon a time."

[Footnote 6: Busy.]

Of the two dogs, one is the collie Luath, here represented as the friend and comrade of a ploughman. He is described in broad Scotch as

"A gash[7] and faithfu' tyke As ever lap a sheugh[8] or dike.

His honest, sonsie,[9] baws'nt[10] face, Aye gat him friends in ilka place.

His breast was white, his touzie[11] back Weel clad wi' coat o' glossy black; His gaucie[12] tail, wi' upward curl, Hung o'er his hurdies[13] wi' a swirl."

[Footnote 7: Knowing.]

[Footnote 8: Ditch.]

[Footnote 9: Comely.]

[Footnote 10: White-striped.]

[Footnote 11: s.h.a.ggy.]

[Footnote 12: Bushy.]

[Footnote 13: Hips.]

Luath's companion was a foreign dog, from "some far place abroad, where sailors gang to fish for cod," in short, Newfoundland. He was, moreover, a dog of "high degree," whose "locked, letter'd, braw bra.s.s collar showed him the gentleman and scholar." The "gentleman" is appropriately called Caesar, a name commonly given to Newfoundland dogs.

The picture carries out faithfully the poet's conception of both animals. Luath is here to the very life, with s.h.a.ggy black back, white breast, and honest face. We only regret that his position does not allow us to see the upward curl of his bushy tail. Caesar is a black and white Newfoundland dog with a bra.s.s collar. The model is said to have been Neptune, the dog of a certain Mr. Gosling.[14]

[Footnote 14: Two years later (1824) Landseer painted the portrait of Mr Gosling's Neptune, showing head and shoulders in front view.]

Though representing opposite stations in life, The Twa Dogs were excellent friends. On this occasion, weary of their usual diversions, they sat down together on a hillock

"And there began a lang digression About the lords o' the creation."

It is Caesar who opens the conversation, expressing curiosity as to how the poor man can endure his life. Luath owns that the cotter's lot is a hard one, but declares that in spite of poverty and hards.h.i.+ps the poor are "maistly wonderfu' contented." The talk then drifts to the corruption of politics and the vices of the rich. Caesar at last brings it to an end by describing the wearisome monotony and emptiness of the fas.h.i.+onable life.

[Ill.u.s.tration: John Andrew & Son, Sc.

THE TWA DOGS _South Kensington Museum, London_]

By this time it was sundown, and the two friends separated, rejoicing "that they were na men, but dogs."

The contrast between the two canine types is well brought out in our picture. Even the att.i.tudes show their opposite temperaments. The collie is a somewhat awkward figure, sitting on his haunches, with legs far apart, nervously alert. The Newfoundland dog lies at his ease with one paw elegantly crossed over the other. They talk muzzle to muzzle, the one long and pointed, the other thick and square.

In those days the collie was chiefly the poor man's dog, the indispensable aid of the shepherd, and the friend of the laborer. It was not until later years that, following the example of the Queen, the rich began to notice his good qualities, and he became a popular favorite. But neither Burns nor Landseer needed to be taught by the dictates of fas.h.i.+on to understand the collie's fine nature. The dog they portrayed, however, was not the luxuriously reared pet we know to-day, but the unkempt companion of humble folk.

The Newfoundland dog, though of plebeian origin, and a hard worker in his native land, is generally regarded as an aristocrat. He is dignified, gentle, and kindly in nature.

Both dogs are very sagacious, and the painter and poet agreed in giving them the thoughts and feelings of human beings. In the picture Caesar seems to be describing the fas.h.i.+onable revels he has witnessed, while honest Luath listens in amazement to the recital. The landscape is such as one might see in Scotland. At the foot of the hill lies a lake, beyond which is a range of low mountains.

Two years after painting the picture of The Twa Dogs, Landseer made a pilgrimage to Ayr, the birthplace of Burns, and rambled about the spots a.s.sociated with the poet's memory. That he took a peculiar interest in the subject of the poem is shown by the fact that over thirty years after he painted it a second time, with some slight variations.

VI

DIGNITY AND IMPUDENCE

Any one with a sense of humor must often be struck by the resemblance between the ways of dogs and the ways of men. The dignified dog, the vulgar dog, the nervous dog, the lazy dog, the impudent dog, are all types of which there are many human counterparts. The dog, indeed, seems at times almost to mimic the manners of men. So in our picture of Dignity and Impudence we are at once reminded of a corresponding situation in human life.

The hound Grafton, posing as Dignity, lies at the entrance of his kennel, his paws overhanging the edge. His handsome head is held erect as he surveys an approaching visitor with the air of an elderly statesman receiving a political candidate. There can be no doubt that his opinions are decidedly conservative.

A small Scotch terrier has been playing about him, having no awe of his big host, but making himself quite at home in his cosy quarters.

He is like a frolicsome child, playing about the statesman's chair, while the old gentleman pursues his train of thought quite undisturbed. Now at the sound of approaching footsteps the impertinent creature peeps forth, with the curiosity of his kind, to see who the newcomer is. His tongue is thrust halfway out at one side like that of a saucy street boy making faces at the pa.s.sers by. Though Dignity apparently ignores the presence of Impudence, we may be sure that the little fellow's antics afford him a quiet amus.e.m.e.nt. Plainly the two dogs are the best of friends.[15]

[Footnote 15: A story of a dog friends.h.i.+p as odd as that between Dignity and Impudence is told apropos of this picture in Sarah Tytler's little book, _Landseer's Dogs and their Stories_.]

There is the greatest possible contrast between them, both in character and appearance. The bloodhound is of a ponderous nature which does not act without deliberation. Thoroughly aroused he may become quite terrible, but he is not hasty in his judgments. The terrier is a nervous creature, full of activity. We can see from the tense position of his head in the picture that his whole body is quivering with motion.

The bloodhound seems large even for his breed, which averages about twenty-seven inches in height. One of his huge paws is almost as large as the terrier's head and could easily crush the little creature. But in spite of his reputation for fierceness his expression here is not at all savage. It is rather grave and judicial, as if carefully summing up the character of his visitor. While the terrier saucily asks "Who are you?" the bloodhound is steadily gazing at the intruder, as if to read his secret thoughts. A modern authority on dogs quaintly says of the bloodhound's discrimination, "If he puts you down as a bad character, or one who cannot be thoroughly trusted, there must be something radically wrong about you, indeed."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fr. Hanfstaengl, photo. John Andrew & Son, Sc.

DIGNITY AND IMPUDENCE _National Gallery, London_]

Perhaps something of the gravity of the hound's countenance is due to the looseness of the skin about the head, making folds which suggest the wrinkles in an old man's face. The eyes, too, are rather deep set and impress one with the unfathomable depths of the dog's intelligence. How unlike are the s.h.i.+ning round orbs of the little terrier. The hound's sleek short-haired coat comports well with his dignity, while the long tangled hair of the terrier suits his impudent character. With the long overhanging ears of the larger dog are amusingly contrasted the small sharp points standing upright on his companion's head. Finally, were the two dogs to lift up their voices to greet the new arrival, an odd duet would be produced by the deep baying of one, broken by the short sharp yelps of the other. Dignity and Impudence would each find perfect vocal expression.

Our picture ill.u.s.trates admirably Landseer's genial gift of humor and shows us how varied was his power. As we have occasion to see elsewhere in our book, some of his works deal with pathetic, even tragic, subjects.[16] Like other men of poetic imagination the painter seemed equally ready to call forth smiles or tears. While no one can look at Dignity and Impudence without smiling at the contrast, the fun is without irony. Pomposity and impertinence are amusing qualities alike in dogs and men, but are altogether harmless.

[Footnote 16: See Suspense, The Highland Shepherd's Chief Mourner, War, and The Hunted Stag.]

The painter has here kept strictly within the proper limits of his art. A few slight changes would entirely transform the character of the picture. By exaggerating only a little the human quality of expression in the dogs' faces and suggesting a resemblance to some particular individuals, the picture would become a caricature.

Cartoonists have not scrupled to borrow the design and adapt it to such purposes. Landseer himself, however, had no aim but to produce a humorous effect of contrast between the two dogs.

VII