When Sir Thomas Lipton first built Shamrock, it was obvious that he should appear in the series of Vanity Fair celebrities. He sat to me in my studio when, during conversation, he told me of his implicit belief in the uses of advertisement, which he considered the corner-stone of success.
I have been particularly fortunate in my opportunities for observation when at work on the Royal yachtsmen, among whom was King Edward himself. The Prince was always most kind and courteous, and when I had the honour of receiving a sitting from him, he did not forget to inquire after my father, whose health was not all that could be desired at the time, and later on when my father died I received the following letter of sympathy:—
"Dear Mr. Ward,
"I am desired by the Prince of Wales to write and let you know how sincerely sorry he is to hear of the terrible affliction which has fallen upon you, and to assure you that you have his unfeigned sympathy in your sorrow.
"He had known your father so long that he could not help letting you know what he felt on this sad occasion.
"Believe me,
"Yours truly,
"Francis Knollys."
In many indefinable ways the King never missed an opportunity of showing his kindness for which I was always grateful. When I made a portrait of him as Prince of Wales I received a letter of acknowledgment from which I may quote the following extract:—"The King thinks the portrait an excellent one, and there is nothing in it to alter."
Some years after when he had begun to show signs of embonpoint, a fact of which he was fully aware, I had the honour of a sitting, and he said laughingly:—
"Now let me down gently."
"Oh, but you've a very fine chest, sir," I replied.
He laughed and shook his head at me, as though he found my aim at diplomacy more entertaining than convincing.
Queen Alexandra also sat to me at Marlborough House, where I made the drawing in black and white for Vanity Fair, but when I took it to the editor he decided that it must be coloured, as were all the previous cartoons. The Princess of Wales, as she then was, had been so kind in giving me sittings that I dared not suggest more, so I attempted to colour my sketch from memory, and in my anxiety to get the flesh tint I spoilt it, as I found it impossible to obtain the clearness of colour over the pencil work, and in trying to do so I ruined the sketch. Later on I met the Prince (Edward VII.) and he asked me what I had done with the drawing of the Princess. On my informing him of the fate of the sketch, and the circumstance of its destruction, he said, seeing my concern and embarrassment: "Well, don't worry yourself. No one has yet succeeded in making a satisfactory portrait of the Princess—not even Angeli," although one or two successful portraits have been painted of Her Majesty since then both as Princess of Wales and Queen.
One of my very early caricatures was one of her brother, the late King of Greece, done from memory. Comparatively recently, Prince Louis of Battenberg (a handsome subject), whom I had studied beforehand at the Admiralty, came to my studio, and he brought the Princess Louise and Princess Victoria of Schleswig-Holstein to see the result with which they expressed themselves much pleased, and the drawing is now in their possession.