Lady Ossington then gave her ideas of how she wished the portrait composed, and suggested that the Duke should be seated in his study with plans of buildings or of gardens that he might be designing, introduced as likely accessories, and, of all things, a sunset appearing in the background of which he would never tire. A considerable correspondence ensued between Lady Ossington and myself and her written descriptions helped me considerably.

"Viscountess Ossington presents her compliments to Mr. Leslie Ward,"

one of the letters ran, "and sends him an Inverness tweed cloak that used to be thrown lightly on when looking at plans before going out...."

When all this was fully described, the valet paid me a visit and brought with him his late master's clothes, his hat, stick, and wig as well as the cape which was of characteristic cut, at the same time informing me that the frock coat was always rather loosely made.

My great difficulty was to procure a suitable model to sit for the clothes. At last I got the address of one, an old man from Drury Lane, who, I learnt, had been a super. He called upon me in answer to my letter, and I instructed him to come to my studio, showing him the clothes he would have to wear. As it so happened, he came long before his time, and was shown into the studio. He had evidently dressed himself up ready for me, but very carelessly, in the late Duke's early Victorian frock coat suit. When I arrived, there was this elderly gentleman seated on the throne with his own clothes on the floor. On approaching him I found him to be fast asleep and snoring.

Being naturally disgusted and annoyed I ordered him quickly to change and be off. He wore a silly smile and with the Duke's wig on all awry he fumbled away at his coat tails. He was trying to explain to me that his change in coppers were in the coat. He could not have been sober on his arrival, but when giving me to understand that he had only been round (in this costume) to have a gla.s.s "at the pub," I confess it inwardly amused me.

I was now obliged to procure the services of another model, and this time a _real gentleman_ turned up. He was also elderly, and not prepossessing in appearance, but nevertheless bore the traces of better breeding than the Drury Lane super. He had a ponderous and high-bridged nose of a purple hue which contrasted with his saffron face, and his eyes were tearful with evident sorrows of the past.

When he had changed his rusty suit and knee-bagged etceteras for a spruce frock coat and equally dapper trousers, he sat in the gold-backed chair with the air of a duke while I prepared my palette.

As I commenced to paint, he began to talk and to relate his experiences in the past. He had, according to his story, started life as an officer in a cavalry regiment, and the love of gambling became so irresistible that he lost fortunes. Now, he said, he was determined to make amends for his folly in the past, and by the aid of his sympathisers he knew he could redeem that social position which he formerly held. That he must have decent clothes to start with, went without saying, and those who heard his story, he was convinced, would help him to procure them--of that he was sure. Had I any to spare? (Of course I saw what he was leading up to), and so the talk went on in this maudlin way till he had to be pulled up, and I had to remind him what he was in my studio for.

Possibly there was some foundation for his story, for that he had received a decent education there was little doubt.

Some time after he finished these sittings, he turned up again with a young woman whom he introduced to me as his wife. She was anxious to become a model too, but I fear by this time he was in little request.

It occurred to me that he must have related to her some very plausible stories before they could have entered into matrimony.

Then, one morning, upon taking up the paper, I read a thrilling story of how an artist's model had so cruelly treated his wife that she died in consequence. It was a charge of manslaughter. This was the very man, but although in his drunken moments he had behaved as a brute-beast, evidence went to show that when sober no one could have treated her with more consideration and affection, so he got off with imprisonment, but died in gaol (it was said of remorse) shortly afterwards.

Before quite completing the face, and as I had been told of the extraordinary likeness that existed between the Duke and his sister, it occurred to me that a few touches from Lady Ossington herself would enable me to improve the portrait. I therefore, with some difficulty, persuaded her to give me a sitting which really proved useful. Anyhow, I received the kindest letter from her expressing her thanks for the satisfactory way in which I had completed my work, and this naturally pleased me, for it was no easy task.

Very shortly after, she wrote again, saying that although it was her intention to leave the portrait to the present Duke to be permanently hung in the Gallery at Welbeck, it had been arranged that it should be temporarily lent for the approaching visit of the Prince of Wales. In consequence of her anxiety for its safe delivery, I undertook to take it down myself, and Lady Bolsover, who was there at the time, invited me to stay the day. I was fortunate in finding among her guests a lady whom I knew, who kindly showed me over the place, and thereby satisfied my curiosity, especially when we came to the underground pa.s.sages of which I had heard so much. I must say that after Mr. Henry Savile (his neighbour at Rufford) had related stories to me about the Duke, the mystery existing in my mind was somewhat dispelled concerning him. No doubt he was eccentric, but so much must have been human in him that his interesting personality predominated. Although he took little nourishment he seemed to have worked hard both physically and mentally, and to have possessed tastes of a high order.

Mr. Savile would often see him with his trousers tied with tape, much like the workmen on his estate, not only directing them in their work, but like one of themselves using the spade, although they were forbidden to recognize him by either touching or raising their caps.

Ages after the picture had pa.s.sed out of my mind, I happened to be dining with friends, when I was introduced to an American lawyer. He was full of stories, as might be expected, and he told us one (of an extravagant order) which he said would lead to a very big case in the Courts of Law in which he himself would appear. The story was too impossible to believe; in fact, I was rude enough to tell him so.

When the case came into Court I was astonished (as were many others) to read the (to me) incredible story of the claim of a Mrs. Druce, who announced that the late Thomas Charles Druce, an upholsterer of Baker Street, had been none other than the late Duke. T. C. Druce was reported to have died at Holcombe House, and it was alleged that he had never been buried at Highgate Cemetery; also, according to report, the servants at Holcombe House had stripped lead off the roof to weight the coffin, to indicate that there was a body inside.

Other evidence was produced to show that Druce was alive several years after his reported death; curious coincidences pointing to a similarity of habits between Druce and the late Duke were sworn to by many witnesses.

The employees at Druce's Baker Street Bazaar said that Druce would never appear when an aristocratic or Royal patron asked for him, and also that, like the Duke, he disappeared for considerable periods, and was known to enter his office from an underground pa.s.sage leading from Harcourt House. Other significant peculiarities were mentioned--such as Druce's habit of tying his trousers with string round the ankle, the high hat and the old-fashioned wig; and photographs of the Duke and Druce were published in the papers. But I became extremely interested in the case when a point arose as to the date of the Duke's alleged marriage with a Miss Crickmer; it was stated to have occurred in the year 1816 (at this date he was only sixteen and a half years old), and this question was met with a reproduction of my full-length portrait of the Duke, which was stated beyond doubt to have been painted during the period of the Duke's residence at Bury, when he was Lord Tichfield. I regretted that I was not in Court and able to contradict this extraordinary statement; but I felt a.s.sured that the Druce claim would prove to be without foundation, and was not surprised to hear eventually that the case had been quashed by the opening of the Druce vault, where the presence of the body put an end to the allegations of the Druce family.

An extraordinary incident which happened with alarming suddenness, and which nearly brought me into unpleasant contact with the law, occurred one night when I was coming home from my club. I usually preferred to walk, for the exercise was beneficial to me after a hard day's work.

It was not conspicuously late, and I was walking along lost in thought when a girl whom I knew as one of my models approached me and said rather breathlessly, "There's a woman and two men following you; they're dangerous characters, I feel sure--do take a cab--please!"

I was about to expostulate as this interruption was rather in the nature of a surprise, but before I could speak, she begged me excitedly to "Take a cab," and as a hansom was pa.s.sing, hailed it and began to bundle me in.

"Really," I began, "why all this excitement? What is the matter?"

At that moment a big woman who looked rather like the adventuress in a Melville melodrama, as far as I could see (she was heavily veiled), came up and addressed some very insulting remarks to the little model.

"Oh, good heavens!" I said, and got into the cab. The girl jumped in quickly and called at the same time to the driver to hurry.

"What is all this?" I said in the cab as I saw her looking anxiously out of the window.

"Let's go another way--she's following us," replied the girl, who appeared to be shaking with fear.

"Oh," I said, "never mind. Let's drive quickly."

The other cab was following, and I wondered what I was "in for," when we drew up at my studio--the girl appeared to be so terrified that I gave her my key and told her to go in while I prepared to settle matters. As I alighted, I saw two rough-looking men getting off the back of the other cab. They looked such thorough blackguards that it occurred to me the girl's fears were not without grounds.

Before I could pay the cabby, the woman alighted and started to abuse me, while the bullies lurked behind.

Catching sight of a policeman sauntering up the road, I called to him to rid me of my unpleasant companions, but at his approach the woman changed her tune to a sort of snivelling self-righteousness, and said to the constable:--

"This man's my husband, I've just caught him in the very act of going off with another woman, he has deserted me cruelly."

The man looked from my face to hers in immediate understanding, and said in conciliatory tones, which betrayed a strong Lancashire accent.

"Why doant ye go 'ome with yer wife?"

"You a.s.s. She's no more my wife than you are," I said hotly--for I was furious.

"I have the marriage certificate," broke in the woman with a well-simulated sob.

"Look 'ere," remonstrated the policeman. "Come naow," and he tried to force me into her cab.

This was too much for me.

"Look here," I said angrily. "We'll end this farce. I'm going to the police station, and you shall come with me."

So we drove off in our respective cabs, by now the two men had disappeared. At the police station, the woman still kept up her foolish acting; after hearing my case, the inspector cross-questioned her. "What name?" She thoughtlessly gave her own, not knowing mine, and once again referred theatrically to the marriage certificate.

An expression of dawning remembrance pa.s.sed over the inspector's face, and after opening another book, he turned the pages until pausing, he read quietly for a moment.

"Yes, I have it," he said. "You were imprisoned for violent a.s.sault, fined, and were only released yesterday. You had better go about your business."

The woman did not appear disturbed or non-plussed when she knew her ident.i.ty was exposed, but still dogged my footsteps. After my experience of the evening, I refused to go home without a police escort, and all the way my strange adventuress followed us, still abusive, until at last, on nearing my studio, she disappeared. I found my door open as the little model had left it when she had evidently fled in her fear to her home.

I often wonder what object the woman and her two attendant blackguards had in pursuing me. I am glad to think I escaped with a whole skin from an incomprehensible adventure.

Another episode which resulted in my actually appearing in the courts, this time not as a spectator, but as the plaintiff in a case which I brought against an omnibus company, occurred some time back.

I happened to be returning from Queen Anne's Gate, where I had spent a busy morning's work upon a portrait, and I was due at my studio to meet another sitter. Having very little time to spare, I partook of a hasty cup of coffee and some light refreshment in lieu of lunch, and hastily jumped on to an omnibus going in the direction of Chelsea.

After a brief interval a lady sitting in front turned round to me as we were pa.s.sing Ebury Bridge and said, "Would you kindly ask the conductor for me if he will give me my change. I've spoken to him several times and without effect."

"Certainly," I replied, and called to the conductor.

"What do yer want?" he answered tersely, without turning his head.

"I want you to give this lady her change as she is getting down almost immediately and says she has already asked you for it."

"_You've_ got her change," he replied to my astonishment. "I must have given it to you by mistake."

Finding that I only had the sum of twopence halfpenny in my pocket, a penny of which I was holding in readiness for my fare, I was not deceived by this convenient way of shifting the responsibility of fivepence on to my shoulders. But as his manners were so insolent to the lady and to myself, I was determined to ascertain the man's number. Of course he refused to give it me, and covered the badge with his coat. My destination was coming nearer every moment, and in spite of my having such little time to spare, I descended from the top of the omnibus to the footboard, and the man's insolence increased when he realized my resolve to proceed a little further until I gained my point. I was considerably hampered with a parcel containing a drawing-board in one hand and an umbrella in the other, but I tried to tug at the strap which held the badge, at which the conductor turned round suddenly and said:--