”I was asked the other day if I were related to a man of the same name—a Scotchman—a landscape-painter. He spells his name L-e-i-t-c-h, you know. I said, ‘No; the Scotch gentleman’s name is spelt in the Scotch way, with the ’itch in it.’ Not bad, eh? I hope nobody will tell him!”
I met William Leitch several times (he died long ago), and was always charmed by his refined and gentle manner; but we never became intimate, so I cannot say I had the following anecdote from himself; but it was told me by an intimate friend of the artist, who assured me that he had it from Leitch direct.
Leitch had a considerable practice as a drawing-master, chiefly amongst the higher classes. He taught the very highest, for he gave lessons to the Queen herself. I have never had the honour of seeing any of her Majesty’s drawings, but I have had the advantage of her criticism, and I can well believe in the reports of the excellence of her work.
The story goes that one day, in the course of a lesson, the Queen let her pencil fall to the ground. Both master and pupil stooped to pick it up; and, to the horror of Leitch, there was a collision—the master’s head struck that of his royal pupil! and before he could stammer an apology, the Queen said, smiling:
”Well, Mr. Leitch, if we bring our heads together in this way, I ought to improve rapidly.”
| ”Hercules” returning from a Fancy Bail. R. E. & S. 1888. |
CHAPTER I.
EARLY DAYS.