Forty Years of 'Spy'

As regards the present Prime Minister, I was on the look out for him one day, and he did not appear in the Lobby. A member of parliament came up and asked me who I was looking for. I told him I wanted Mr. Asquith, cautioning him, of course, not to let him know for what purpose. He said, "I'll soon have him out," upon which I suggested that he should tell him an amusing story. Consequently I got quite a successful caricature, and not long after the cartoon was published it was, with his approbation, reproduced in colour on the menu of some important Liberal banquet at which he was to be present.

It was with very great pleasure that I designed the menu for the complimentary dinner given by the members of the Dramatic Profession to my old friend, Joe Knight, at the Savoy Hotel on the 4th June, 1905. It contained a portrait of himself for which he sat. He was one of the oldest of the dramatic critics, and had been an art critic, and an intimate friend of Rossetti. He was a very great favourite, especially at the Garrick and Beefsteak Clubs, and he had a fine library which was distributed at his death. A characteristic habit of his was while relating a story to his neighbour at the dinner or supper table to place the palm of his hand before his mouth as though speaking in secrecy, but his voice always thundered out the words so that every one in the room could hear, and there was no secret after all!

One of the nicest men among the many hundreds who have been willing subjects is Lord Newlands. I was struck with his considerate and charming manner to all he came in contact with, even to an old charwoman. It was interesting to hear him talk of his old friend, Dr. Jowett, Master of Balliol College, whose memory he regarded with the deepest respect. My early caricature of him seemed to have pleased him so much that he not only gave a good sum for it at the sale of Vanity Fair cartoons at Christie's, but also commissioned me to make a copy of it. As Henry Hozier he was secretary to Lord Salisbury, 1878-80.

Amongst the many prominent men in connection with Canada that I cartooned were Sir Wilfrid Laurier, perhaps the most striking personality of all the colonists that came my way; Sir Walter Blake, who over here became a prominent member of the House of Commons; the late Duke of Argyll, a delightfully intellectual and kind-hearted man; Lord Minto, whom I depicted in Canadian riding-kit, who was a gentleman to the backbone and a thorough sportsman; and Lord Grey, whose distinguished career is so well known.

Of the Duke of Connaught, whose retirement, when it comes, is sure to be felt in Canada with regret, it can only be said that no one of the Royal Family could have filled the post better, and that a more popular successor to the post of Governor-General could not have been selected than Prince Alexander of Teck. Of course I mention all these as having been victims of my brush at one time or another.

Shortly before her marriage, I went to Kensington Palace to make a drawing of Princess Ena of Battenberg (now the Queen of Spain). I was in some difficulty at first about the regulation of the light upon my sitter, and to soften the effect I pinned a large sheet of brown paper over the lower part of the window, but it was suggested by her mother that, perhaps, some drapery would be equally serviceable and more ornamental from the view of those outside. I am afraid that being keen on my work I had not considered the appearance of the Palace windows as no doubt I should have done.

The young Princess was a very handsome girl, with a wealth of beautifully silky fair hair, a lovely complexion and fine eyes full of fun; she was also particularly bright and natural in her manner. At one of the sittings I met the Princess Beatrice of Saxe-Coburg; I had not the honour of a presentation, but she entered into conversation with me. She was most charming, but although I gathered she had unusual knowledge of art, it was not until after she had left the room that I was informed of her identity. I regretted not having known at the time that she was the daughter of the Duke of Edinburgh, as I should have liked to have told her of my enjoyable cruise with her father.

So highly did the Princess Henry of Battenberg value her niece's criticism of my sketch, that when the young Princess disagreed with her over the suggestion of a slight alteration in it, H.R.H. good-humouredly gave in.

I have the pleasantest remembrance of the character drawing of General Sir William Francis Butler, G.C.B., which I made for Vanity Fair in 1907. The General was one of the Empire's very big men, and it will be remembered that prior to the Boer War he was very sharply criticised for certain pessimistic prophecies in connection with the war which annoyed everybody; but events justified every word he uttered. He married Miss Thompson of "The Roll Call" fame, and he was very much struck with a proof print from a drawing of her that I had done for The Graphic at the time she painted "The Roll Call." It chanced that he sat to me on my birthday, which was in November. I usually left my studio at sunset in time to get a walk, but that afternoon I lingered until dusk. Presently there came a ring at my bell, which I answered, and seeing some one at a distance from the gate the visitor asked me if Mr. Leslie Ward was in. I exclaimed, "Why, General! Don't you know me? You've been sitting to me all the morning." He said, "Here is a little parcel which I should like you to accept, it being your birthday," and hurried off. I took it into my studio and found it contained a pair of extremely handsome silver candlesticks of the Georgian period. My subject had a stern countenance but a kind heart.

Not long after, I began to realise that my long association with Vanity Fair was about to come to an end. When Mr. Gibson Bowles resigned his connection with the journal, in order to take an active part in the political field which had always attracted his keenest interest, I could not have contemplated a more delightful successor than Mr. A. G. Witherby as my chief, for I again received every encouragement to succeed in my work. Not only is he a very clever caricaturist and draughtsman, but he is equally clever as a writer; in addition to which he is a good sort and keen sportsman, and when he decided to part with the paper it was a great blow to me. I shall ever remember the kind hospitality I received from him and his wife during his proprietorship of the paper.

In early days my father cautioned me against giving more than half of my time to work for reproduction, and experience has taught me the wisdom of the warning. I think after all he was right, and I regret that for nearly forty years I devoted too much time to the work on Vanity Fair. As a society journal it was certainly for a long period a publication of unique interest, and I venture to prophesy that, when the history of the Victorian Era comes to be written in true perspective, the most faithful mirror and record of representative men and the spirit of their times will be sought and found in Vanity Fair.

CHAPTER XVII

A HOLIDAY MISFORTUNE—ROYAL PORTRAITS—FAREWELL

Belgium.—Accident at Golf.—Portraits of King George V., the Duke of Connaught, Mr. Roosevelt, Mr. Lloyd George, Mr. Garvin.—Portrait painting of to-day.—Final reflections.—Farewell.

Sometimes as the late summer comes round, my wife and I prefer to take our holiday or part of it abroad, when the change of scene and living is a possible attraction.

Five years ago we had been told of a quiet and charming little watering-place in Belgium, not far from Ostend, called Wenduyne, and having in advance booked rooms at the hotel recommended to us, we arrived and found it most comfortable. I took no work with me, not even pencil and brushes, for I was determined to have a complete rest. We were pleased to learn that the golf links at Le Coq were quite handy, and we lost no time in taking the tram there and inscribing our names as temporary members. These links are beautifully kept up, and in the vicinity of the Club House are gaily decorated with flower beds.

Mrs. Oakes (my wife's cousin) and I soon arranged to play a game of golf. The nailed boots that I had been wearing during the morning were new and uncomfortable, so I changed them for a pair of canvas shoes with india-rubber soles, which were well adapted to the course in dry weather. A sudden storm, however, made its appearance, and the rain fell in buckets, saturating the ground completely. We were soon wet through, but knowing there were but two holes more to play we decided to continue to the bitter end, which shortly came. I made a bad shot and placed my ball awkwardly. In my endeavour to move it, and at the same moment of striking (and I conclude the india-rubber soles of my shoes were the cause) my foot slipped and I fell helplessly to the ground. My companion, in ignorance of the serious consequences of the fall, urged me to try and rise to my feet, when I found that my leg was badly fractured above the ankle. In time, but not before I was exhausted, a chauffeur turned up with a private motor-car on a road near at hand, and I was borne off by some cottagers and placed inside, while Mrs. Oakes, who had been in search of aid, escorted me back to the hotel.

After being jolted two or three miles over the rough, cobbled road, I was deposited on a sofa until surgical aid came. Fortunately I was soon in very competent hands, although the pain I underwent during the setting of the fracture I shall never forget, for it was agonising.

My wife returned to the hotel to find me safely installed in the proprietor's (M. Machiel's) private sitting-room, which he most kindly gave up for my use. She nursed me for some time under the surgeon's directions, until I urged her to enjoy the remainder of her visit and procure the services of a hospital nurse from London to relieve her.

It was over a month before I was allowed to stir, and when the time came that I might be wheeled on to the balcony of M. Machiel's villa I breathed again. The surgeon, whose temporary villa was adjoining the hotel, was a well-known town-councillor and scientist in Antwerp who must have weighed twenty stone. When giving me permission at first to get up, he invited me to waltz with him, which gave me hopes of my permanent recovery, but I did not accept the invitation.

On returning home, after the kind attention I received both from M. and Madame Machiel and the officials at Ostend who saw to my comfort before boarding the boat, I found every aid awaiting me at my studio, where I remained in the experienced hands of Dr. Reginald Ingram, who attended me until I was convalescent.

The press cuttings sent me while abroad concerning the accident amused me, as I was reported in some papers to have broken both my legs, while among the kind letters I received was one from Hermann Vezin, the actor, who was lying on a bed of sickness from which he never recovered. I reproduce here another, and amusing, communication which came from an anonymous friend after the accident I have just described. It invites me, as will be seen, to "smile" in spite of all.

My studio on the ground floor at Buckingham Gate made an excellent hospital, but I was still prevented from doing any work for some time. When The World approached me after my decision to terminate my connection with Vanity Fair, the inducement was that in addition to the same remuneration which I had received from that paper, I was permitted to retain the rights of my original drawings. In consequence, I was able to send a collection to the Turin Exhibition at the request of Sir Isidore Spielmann, for which I received a Grand Prix.

My second drawing of the present King was published by his permission in The World in 1910; it was but a short time before the death of King Edward, for a paragraph in reference to it appeared in The Morning Post opposite the announcement of the late King's death. I knew on the best authority that the Prince was a very fine shot, so I represented him in shooting-kit grasping his gun. H.R.H. took the greatest trouble to sit in order that every detail of the picture should be perfectly correct; indeed, on the occasion of the first sitting he not only changed into a complete suit of shooting-clothes, but he permitted me to choose the suit I thought best for the drawing. He told me he always shot with a hammered gun, and preferred it to any other, and that he made a point of wearing a red tie when shooting. On reminding him of boyhood days and the circumstances of my cruise on the Hercules, he remembered the incident perfectly. Not long after, I received the honour of sittings from the Duke of Connaught. I had been presented to H.R.H. at St. James's Palace by Sir Henry De Bathe at my first levee, and not having a Court suit of my own, I hired one for the occasion. When I returned to my cab after the levee I was horrified to discover that through careless tailoring my black velvet breeches had split across my thigh, the accident evidently having occurred at the moment I made my obeisance. I was naturally very much concerned at this ill-timed catastrophe, and could only hope that it had escaped observation.

When the Duke of Connaught was sitting to me I told him the story. He laughed, and related an incident that occurred on another occasion. An old and seemingly rather eccentric military officer was advancing to make his bow, when the Lord Chamberlain noticing something rather strange in his apparel attempted to draw his attention to the fact, and to prevent his advance. Other royal attendants made similar efforts, only to be waved aside by the old gentleman, who obstinately refused to be stopped. It was then that the Duke noticed that his sword, every button, in fact, and all the gold upon his uniform was covered with yellow tissue paper which he had obviously forgotten to remove.

I sketched the Duke in undress uniform, and while the portrait was in progress the Duchess and the Princess Patricia came to look at it, and the Princess, who is herself a clever artist, seemed to take an especial interest in my method of work. On my next visit H.R.H. told me that the Duchess had been so much pleased with the portrait that she would like to possess the original. It was then arranged that the drawing should be sent out to Canada, but at my request it was first lent to the proprietors of The Graphic, who reproduced it in colour for the special Duke of Connaught number, which was published shortly after the Duke had accepted office as Governor-General of Canada.

The Graphic also reproduced in colour a drawing that I did of Sir Colin Keppel, in Admiral's uniform; he, it will be remembered, took the King and Queen to India.

When the honorary degree of LL.D. was conferred on Mr. Roosevelt, Oxford made quite a fête day of the occasion. At the ceremony of installation I went down to observe the ex-President in all the glory of his robes and red gown.

Another interesting portrait I painted about this time, also within the fine setting of official dignity and circumstance, was that of Archbishop Bourne in his Cardinal's robes. I sent it to the 1911 exhibition at the Royal Academy, where it was alloted a very prominent position.

It was at the request of The World that I made the drawing described as "His Majesty's Servants." It was a group picture of the most prominent actors of the day, including Tree and Bourchier, Weedon Grossmith, Willard, and H. B. Irving, etc. Among a number of very interesting subjects which appeared in The World was Captain Scott, and I think I was about the last artist to whom he sat before he started on his fatal expedition.

One of my drawings of Mr. Lloyd George also appeared in The World; but my best caricature of the much discussed Chancellor of the Exchequer was published in Vanity Fair. He was so pleased with it that he selected it as a frontispiece for his biography, which appeared shortly after its publication, and when this cartoon was put up for sale with some other original drawings it fetched a very high price.

I occasionally made a drawing for Mayfair, the only Society journal that I can recall having succeeded in any way on the lines of Vanity Fair, although in this paper any accentuation of characteristics seems out of place. The fact is the object of Vanity Fair was most distinctly the entertainment of the public, while that of Mayfair is rather purposely for the satisfaction of the individuals.

In 1913, I was commissioned by Mayfair to make a drawing of the distinguished scientist, Sir John Murray, who died recently. He was a splendid subject, and had a most picturesque head. His portrait, which was exhibited in the New Gallery, was painted by Sir George Reid, and is one of the most striking in my memory. Mr. Bowie, the well-known Scottish A.R.S.A., to whom I recently sat for the portrait exhibited at the Royal Society of Portrait Painters, which has been so well noticed, also painted a very life-like portrait of Sir George Reid.

Mr. Birch Crisp, the well-known stockbroker, who was responsible for the Chinese and Russian loans, was one of my recent subjects in Mayfair. He sat several times in spite of the fact that he is an extremely busy man and rarely to be found out of his office. He was very interested in my work, and has made a representative collection of it, which hangs in his beautiful house near Ascot.

Another of the most interesting of my later-day subjects was Mr. Locker-Lampson. His cleancut face with its strongly-marked features shows the determined character of the man. A good story is told by him in connection with the General Election of 1910. He was due at a political meeting in the neighbourhood of the Fen district, and being already rather behind time, his car was at top speed when they turned an awkward corner of the road—and passengers and car were suddenly in the water. Mr. Locker-Lampson scrambled to the bank, left the car and proceeded to the local vicarage, where he borrowed the parson's coat and spoke that night at three meetings. The next morning all the village turned out to the scene of the accident; there was the stranded car and from a pole attached to it a banner waved in the wind bearing the words "Locker's In," and he got in all right by a big majority.

Last year at the request of the staff of The Pall Mall Gazette and The Observer, I made a portrait of their editor, Mr. Garvin. Owing to a family bereavement I was not able to be at the presentation dinner, to my regret, as I had very much enjoyed the opportunity of meeting and drawing this very distinguished man of letters.

As I conclude this book, so, incidents during my professional career of forty-three years seem to arise, but I must not try the patience of my readers by referring to any more.

It strikes me that the average standard of portrait painting has now for many years past been in the ascendant, but that snapshot photography has to a great extent interfered with the old form of coloured caricature, which was for so long a feature of Vanity Fair, although the increase of illustrated journalism has both aided and encouraged the development of many a clever caricaturist.

Again I hesitate to mention names lest I should leave out some of the best, and, à propos of this, I have always found it wiser when asked the questions, "Who is the best portrait painter of the day for men?" or "Who do you consider paints women best?" to reply in joke, "Why, of course, I am the best for both men and women." Thus one does not commit one's self; as I have invariably found when I have mentioned a name that the answer has been, "Oh! do you really think so? I can't bear his portraits, he has just painted me and my wife, and we have had to relegate both the pictures to the 'Servants' Hall.'"

The illustrations in Punch stand as high as the names of its excellent artists, and of course caricature portraiture plays its part prominently there in black and white, as it also does in many of the magazines and evening papers.

"Poster" work is in a strong position, too, in this manner, and here I must again refrain from individualising its chief exponents.

One word also in praise of the Royal Society of Portrait Painters, and the work of its members, of whom it is only necessary to read down the list to realise how representative it is, and where I am proud to have contributed my latest portrait in oil—that of Mr. M. P. Grace, the present occupant of "Battle Abbey," my ambition now being to devote a far greater portion of my time to strict portraiture.

Praise is as acceptable to an artist as to any other worker, and in addition to the kindly tributes of my personal friends I should like to express appreciation for those I have received from strangers. I was particularly gratified to receive the following letter:—

"Nov. 19th, 1904.

"My dear Sir,

"As a reader of 'Vanity Fair,' I much desire to take the opportunity of wishing you many happy returns for your birthday on Monday, and of sending you a few cordial and sincere words of greeting for that occasion. I suppose you will receive many such messages from friends both known and unknown, whilst others not caring to trouble you will at least think upon your name with much respect, and with such thoughts will couple expressions of good will.

"This is, of course, quite as it should be, and, personally, I would assure you of my very high esteem and regard. I thank you most sincerely for the pleasure your cartoons ever gave me, and for the successful part you take in making 'Vanity Fair' such a splendid publication. I read much, owing to indifferent health precluding my indulgence in vigorous exercise of any kind, thereby necessitating my leisure being spent in quiet and instructive pastimes—such as a study of art, literature, and music.

"I would express in all sincerity my fervent hope that every happiness and joy this world can possibly give may be yours to enjoy, with an entire lack of all that tends in any way to cause trouble or promote pain. Particularly do I wish you excellent health. Nothing, I feel sure, adds to or detracts more from life than the physical state—hence my remark. May all good luck and fortune attend you, and permit you to continue for many years yet your splendid work as an artist. Somehow I feel that words are quite inadequate to express all that is in one's heart to say. I can only ask you, therefore, my dear Sir, to accept my poorly expressed words as heartfelt and sincere, and believe them to come from one who takes the keenest interest in yourself and your fine work.

"Can you kindly oblige by replying to the two following questions for me:—

"1. Where may a brief and authentic sketch of your life and career be found? I much desire to have the opportunity of perusing such.

"2. Also may I enquire where a good portrait of yourself may be procured? I am anxious to have a good one for framing, as a slight personal 'memento' (if I may so call it) of one whose work greatly interests me.

"Wishing you again many happy returns, offering you my sincerest congratulations, and hoping you are well,

"I am, my dear Sir,"Very sincerely yours,"A Reader of 'Vanity Fair.'

"Leslie Ward, Esq., 'Spy.'"

So kind a letter I naturally preserve with gratification.

POSTSCRIPT

In March last, and for the two months that I spent in the Empire Hospital, Vincent Square, I received from Mr. Jocelyn Swan and Mr. Reginald Ingram the best surgical and medical skill that man could wish for. The hospital itself, which is for paying patients (excepting during the war, in the cases of military officers), and which contains a number of comfortable private rooms, is perfectly managed. Then it was that a combination of Brighton air and a delightfully conducted nursing home hastened my convalescence and quickly gave me the desire to work again.

One of the principal consolations of convalescence I found, as soon as I was well enough to receive them, lay in the visits of my friends. It was with particular pleasure—for we had not met for a long time—that I saw Sir Willoughby Maycock by my bedside at the Empire Hospital. I was also much honoured and gratified by receiving a visit from the Duchess of Argyll, who, on learning of my illness, expressed a wish to see me.