Forty Years Of Spy Part 32

We were soon in our saddles, escorted as before, and entered the gates of the city, where the consul with others were in readiness to receive us. We entered a mansion, and I was puzzled to know whether it was a hotel or the Consulate, as the consul conducted us there. He was an Eastern of sorts, that was certain, and one who was evidently acclimatized to bad drainage, for I nearly choked as I was shown my room. Upon realizing the absence of my watch, the soldier lost little time in going back for it, but not finding it, brought back the proprietor of the Fondak as a suspect.

Next morning I rose feeling very "chippy," but being somewhat refreshed after partaking of a light breakfast, proceeded to the outskirts of the town with my sketch-book, where I discovered some picturesque bits.

On returning to my hotel I found a summons to give evidence in a case of alleged robbery. The law court to which I was taken was presided over by two picturesque elderly judges in the purest of white robes and equally clean turbans. Our party was fully represented. The man professed complete innocence of having even seen the watch, so meanwhile he was kept under surveillance.

The effect of the poisonous atmosphere I had imbibed in my lodging began to tell on my health, so I determined to get out of it and cut short my otherwise interesting visit.

I was now on my homeward journey, and having conveyed my instructions to the escort, viz. that if he should fail to extract a confession from the man (who then had his arms bound with cord), he was to trouble no more about him and leave him at the Fondak. About this the soldier seems to have taken no heed and was obdurate, and upon arriving there, arrested the coffee-coloured coffee boy as well, and marched the two of them into Tangier. Although this annoyed me and I tried to remonstrate at the time, I was powerless in the matter. On arriving in Tangier, however, very tired, I was only too glad to dismiss them from my mind and give orders that they should be at once liberated, while I came to the conclusion that the woman was the guilty party after all.

After the first ten days of North African air, my cough had gone, so that I was quite able to appreciate the change of scene, the white buildings, the coloured people, the superb vegetation, the mosques (but not the mosquitoes, as the latter worried me terribly); and by degrees the fascination of the climate, the atmosphere of romance and adventure surrounding the interesting race amongst whom I was living, took hold of me. My artistic sense was being constantly appealed to, and everywhere I saw a picture awaiting my brush. The Arabs and Moors, in their picturesque dresses, were to me extraordinarily attractive, with their magnificent physique and bearing, and especially the letter-carriers with their finely moulded ankles and feet with perfect straight toes. At Tangier I was fortunate enough to behold two of the most beautiful pictures I have ever seen. I was walking in the bay one evening, watching the sun set like a ball of fire, dipping into a sea that s.h.i.+mmered with a thousand opalescent reflections as the wavelets rippled to my feet, when I came upon a group of swarthy, naked fishermen hauling in their nets, which were full of leaping fish that scintillated iridescently. With strong fine movements the men drew them in, some standing in the water, others on the sh.o.r.e, their bodies wet with the water that rolled off their mahogany skins in pearly drops. At each movement of their superb limbs, the play of muscle attracted my eye, and as they turned, their bodies bathed in the amber light, I saw a mult.i.tude of scales from the fish clinging to their bodies, like so many sequins, gold in the sun and silver in the colder light from the east. Spellbound, I watched them falling into groups and alternating att.i.tudes, which in themselves were magnificent--an Arabian Nights dream and an ideal composition for the painter who could depict the movement, colour, and light of a scene that few men are lucky enough to behold. I shall never forget it and never see such beauty again, for it is well-nigh impossible that nature should repeat such perfection, with similar conspiracies of light, shade, and shadow in exactly the same manner.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GENERAL SMITH-DORRIEN. 1911.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: LORD ROBERTS. 1900.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: LORD KITCHENER. 1899.]

Another scene I was privileged to witness from the balcony of my room (which looked down on some rocks in the bay), where I was "lazing" in the sun one morning, when I became aware of a picturesque group of Moorish ladies who, with their maids, were preparing to disrobe by the sea. The process was interesting because it was so astonis.h.i.+ngly beautiful; after removing their outer garment and yashmak, they appeared in robes of every imaginable colour. Garment after garment was divested in this manner, and each one more bewilderingly brilliant than the other, gorgeous orange, green, or scarlet, contrasted with the cool sea and the hot African sky, the rocks looming darkly in the background, the soft sand at their feet; and presently when a bevy of beautiful brown ladies stepped into the water, I saw a real Alma Tadema picture without the inevitable marble, and all the added charm of movement and the sky and the sea.

When my visit of five weeks was at an end, and professional duties had to be thought of, I prepared for departure, and, accompanied by the brothers Duff-Gordon and Ansaldo (the hotel proprietor), I journeyed to Gibraltar, where Ansaldo had formerly been a big "boss," and was still very popular. As the first race-meeting was being held, I accepted his invitation to witness the sport, where he offered me hospitality in his refreshment tent. At the end of a very jolly day, Cosmo Duff-Gordon and his brother joined me at the hotel, they having returned from the bull-ring in Algeciras; and the next day we were homeward bound on the P. and O. for England.

One of the smartest figures in Society was Lord Portarlington, known to his friends as "the Dasher." I drew him--and there was plenty of him--smoking his very unusually large cigar, and not forgetting the gardenia, which was in proportion.

_ propos_ of the choice of riding in a four-wheeler or a hansom, "the Dasher" on one occasion played heavy lead in a cab drama in which the third person and I took part in addition to the cabman and the crowd.

We were leaving the Beefsteak Club together one night when "the Dasher" suggested that as we were all going the same way he should give us a lift, so he hailed a four-wheeler and we drove off. He directed the driver to go to Grosvenor Place, but the man mistook the way and drove on. Lord Portarlington got up to direct the cabman, I tried to stop him, fearing his weight was too great for the springs to bear, but I was too late--they all gave way and over we went. The third occupant was a long thin creature, whose boots I distinctly felt on my back as he wormed his way out through the open window, which for the time being was in place of the roof; then I felt myself being hauled up and extricated just in time to see the cabman dragged from under the horse, which directly he was freed from his harness bolted, taking the greater part of the crowd in his wake. Meantime, Lord Portarlington remained a prisoner in the cab; just then a man came up to me not knowing I had been a victim in the accident, and looking at me very earnestly as much as to say, "This is a sad case indeed," said in a hushed voice, pointing to the overturned cab, "Do you know, sir, there is somebody in there!" At last by the aid of several pairs of strong arms acting in concert Lord Portarlington was dragged out, but he felt the shock badly, and was laid up for two or three days.

It must have been at the end of the 'eighties when my drawing of M.

Gennadius, who has now been Greek Minister for over thirty years, was published. He was quite willing that I should have ample opportunity for observation, and we dined and spent a pleasant evening together at his club.

In 1890 Prince George of Wales gave me the honour of a sitting at Marlborough House. His Majesty even in those days was a good sitter, and, like most naval men, was patient withal. He was very natural and genial in his manner, and I remember we were walking round the room and looking at the pictures by way of a little break in the monotony of the sitting, when Queen Alexandra (then Princess of Wales) came into the room to know how the sketch was progressing.

It was through Mr. Augustus Savile Lumley and my father that I first became acquainted with the Duke of Teck, whom I had the privilege to meet on several occasions. As he had learnt that the authorities on _Vanity Fair_ were desirous of publis.h.i.+ng his portrait, and also one of Princess May in that journal, he called at my studio to talk the matter over, and eventually it was decided that I should visit White Lodge for the purpose of receiving sittings from both.

On the first occasion I hailed a hansom to drive down there, and it was a coincidence that while directing the driver the nearest route he stopped me and said, "I know the way, sir--I was for some time second coachman there!" This was substantiated shortly after when I had related the fact to Prince Adolphus, who went out to see him.

I found on entering that Princess May was prepared to sit, so Fralein Bricka, her former governess with whom I had corresponded, took me into the drawing-room and presented me to her. The Princess, whom I had previously seen, was at once charming in her manner, and although I am sure those sittings were not a treat for her to look forward to, she showed admirable patience throughout.

I was not, however, fated to start my drawing under good auspices. On that occasion I had antic.i.p.ated a sitting from the Duke of Teck and not from the Princess May, and I had brought with me blue rough-surfaced paper which I use for men's drawings, and which I knew would be difficult as a foundation for the unusual delicacy and brightness of the skin and complexion of my subject. I confided my difficulty to Fralein Bricka, and suggested that I should immediately go into Richmond and bring back the paper suitable for the purpose, but she thought that as the Princess was prepared to sit it would be better to make the best of the materials I had at hand; and as she was so anxious that everything should go well, I fell in with the idea.

On the occasion of the first sitting the d.u.c.h.ess paid an early visit to see how the drawing progressed, and after a few observations invited me to luncheon. Occasionally the Princes came in to break the monotony of sitting for their sister.

The d.u.c.h.ess of Teck was a great favourite with the people wherever she went. She had great natural dignity, sympathetic consideration for others, and that charm of manner which puts every one else at ease. I remember on one of my visits, H.R.H. had most kindly invited me to luncheon on the occasion of the last sitting which I eventually received from the Princess. I expressed my regret, and hoped I might be excused on the plea that I had to go down to Newmarket, and she with her usual graciousness at once a.s.sented. When I had finished my last sitting the Duke came into the room, and, not knowing that I was not able to remain, said, "Well, Ward, you're going to stay to lunch of course." I replied that I regretted I was unavoidably prevented, which H.R.H. was aware of.

"Very curious," he said, "since the d.u.c.h.ess has asked you to stay to luncheon that you refuse." He went into her boudoir and came out completely in understanding; and slapping me on the shoulder, said, "Poor Ward. Poor Ward, I quite understand. I'm sorry you can't stay."

The d.u.c.h.ess followed him in. "You refused to stay to lunch," she said, chaffingly, "but I am not going to let you off altogether. What shall it be, you have only to say." So I thanked her and suggested some sandwiches and a gla.s.s of sherry.

I proceeded to pack my paints and brushes, "Never mind about that,"

said the d.u.c.h.ess, "Prince Francis will do it for you, and the Princess will help him." I attempted to protest, but the d.u.c.h.ess pointed to the table saying, "I command you to sit down and eat your sandwiches and drink your wine," and by the time I had refreshed myself, my paraphernalia was packed.

As I left the family came into the hall to see me off, and as I was getting into my cab the footman put into my hand a packet of sandwiches with a direction from H.R.H. that I should eat them on the way.

I was never pleased with the result of the drawing, and to my horror in the end the printing was extremely unsatisfactory, and in spite of the complimentary press notices that appeared I have always believed that the sketch of the Princess was a failure. I felt the disappointment the more, as there had been so much willingness and kindness to help me make a successful drawing, and also I always feared the d.u.c.h.ess shared my disappointment. She came in one afternoon just towards the end of the sitting and looked for a long time at the sketch, and then in her kindest voice said, "If I may make a suggestion, Mr. Ward, the drawing is not pretty enough for the Princess. It may be, perhaps, that I, like most mothers, have an exaggerated idea of the good looks of my children, but I admire my daughter very much, and I do not think at present the drawing does her justice."

I was entirely of her opinion, and the strong points of the picture should have been the colouring and the charm of expression.

When Prince Charles of Denmark (the present King of Norway) and his elder brother first made their appearance before the British public, a similar reception to that with which this chapter opens was given at _The Daily Telegraph_ office by Lord Burnham. I, having that morning received a sitting from Prince Charles at Marlborough House, had the honour of meeting him again in the evening, when he presented me to his brother, the present King of Denmark. I had already met their father, who was Crown Prince of Denmark at the time. He, like all the Danish royal family, had the great charm of simplicity, and talked with very great pride and affection of his family, and he told me of all that he had seen in England, Dr. Barnardo's home for boys had made the greatest impression upon him.

On one occasion, when I was at work upon Prince Charles's portrait at Marlborough House, we saw a dirigible balloon sailing by outside that roused some discussion as to their possible utility in the future.

I remember his then saying with a laugh, that before long such things would be no novelty, and that many of us would be flying about in the air in the near future.

His words often recurred to me during the time I was making the _Vanity Fair_ cartoon of that enthusiastic airman, Mr. Hedges Butler, who stood for me in the car of his balloon, which was suspended from the ceiling in my lofty studio, and remained in it all the time I painted him.

CHAPTER XVI

MARRIAGE--SOME CLERICS--FAREWELL TO _VANITY FAIR_

My engagement and marriage to Miss Topham-Watney.--"Drawl"

and the Kruger cartoon.--"The General Group."--Field-Marshal Lord Roberts.--Archbishops Temple and Randall Davidson.--The Bishop of London.--Archbishop of York.--Canon Fleming.--Lord Montagu of Beaulieu.--Lord Salisbury's cartoon.--Mr. Asquith.

--Joe Knight.--Lord Newlands.--Four great men in connection with Canada.--The Queen of Spain.--Princess Beatrice of Saxe-Coburg.--General Sir William Francis Butler, G.C.B.--Mr.

Witherby.--Farewell to _Vanity Fair_.

Among my lady friends during my bachelor days there was one who was always telling me that I ought to marry and settle down, and in time I began to think so myself. One day she informed me that she had found the very girl. I was introduced to her, found her exceedingly attractive, and shortly we met again at a luncheon-party. On this occasion it was arranged that the whole party should drive down to the Ranelagh Club, and it fell to my happy lot to escort her. I remember on the road we discussed the types we each preferred, and although neither fulfilled the ideal of the other it was quite a satisfactory afternoon, and we met again frequently, previous to my visit to my friend, Freddy Bentinck, at Brownsea Island. I had a glorious time there, but when I got back to town and failed to see the announcement of my marriage in _The Morning Post_, I hastened down into the country to find out the reason, only to discover that my engagement had been broken off. My future bride was much admired, and exceedingly popular with her many friends, and adored by her very discreet parents, and I, alas, was financially--no catch. In the circ.u.mstances I could only accept my _cong_, and although it was some time before I was given the opportunity of meeting her again, we were always good friends.

Some years later fate decreed that my old love and I should meet again, and we found ourselves alighting from the same train both bound on a visit to the same country-house in Herefords.h.i.+re. This unexpected event proved too much for us, and this time we determined to ignore the opinions of our relatives and "so-called" good friends of former years, and within a few months we married.

The ceremony took place at St. Michael's, Chester Square, and the Rev.

Canon Fleming, who was a very dear old friend of all of us, especially of my mother, officiated with the aid of the Rev. John Labouchere, Harry Newton being my best man. The reception was held at the Hans Crescent Hotel, at which there was a large attendance of friends.

Amongst the many beautiful gifts we received, a canteen of silver presented to me by members of the Beefsteak Club was prominent, and in the face of fifteen years of happiness even my most pessimistic friends are bound to admit that I have not made the failure of double harness that they antic.i.p.ated.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MY DAUGHTER.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: MY WIFE.]

During the latter part of our honeymoon we joined my wife's people at Monte Carlo, where rather an amusing incident occurred _ propos_ of my cartoon of Kruger. Mrs. Raby Watney (my wife's mother) received a letter from her brother, Mr. Marshall Hall, in which he said that a drawing of Kruger, which had just appeared in _Vanity Fair_, was much appreciated, and that the reproduction, enlarged and reflected on a screen, appearing nightly at the Palace Theatre, was creating quite a sensation. He added, "Tell Leslie he mustn't allow himself to be cut out by other artists." So Mrs. Watney wrote back to him, "Look at the signature, 'Drawl,' and read it backwards."

As I have said before, it is my rule never to place my signature "Spy"

under a drawing I have not made from observation of the subject himself, but so anxious was the editor to publish a cartoon of Kruger that to test my powers of imagination, and with the addition of a description of his personal appearance from one who knew him, I made it and sent it in to the office.

But the most amusing comment of all occurred in the reviews of the bound volume of _Vanity Fair_. As usual they were most polite and complimentary to "Spy," who was declared to be quite up to his standard, but they added, "We must confess the best drawings in the volume are by a man who signs himself Drawl," and one paper proceeded to describe the new caricaturist in full, and among other details said that he was a Dane.

On our return to London we looked about for a house and found it very difficult to find a suitable one with a studio attached, so eventually we decided on a house in Elizabeth Street, and I to keep on my old studio at 177, Bromfield Place, Pimlico Road, which I had occupied for fifteen years.