Читать книгу John Leech, His Life and Work. Vol. 1 [of 2] - Frith William Powell - Страница 2

“‘Leech’ (spelt ‘leich’) is an old Saxon word for ‘surgeon,’” writes a friend to me. “Hence, as you know, the employment of the word ‘leech’ as a term applied in former times to doctors.”

Though Leech is not a common name, I have met with several bearers of it under every variety of spelling that the word was capable of – Leech, Lietch, Leich, Leeche, Leitch, etc. Only two of the owners of these names became known to fame – John, of immortal memory, and, longo intervallo, William Leitch, a Scottish artist, and landscape-painter of considerable merit, whose pictures, generally of a classic character, found favour amongst a certain class of buyers. A large subject of much beauty was engraved, and, I think, formed the prize-engraving for the year for the Art Union of London. I have no doubt William Leitch was frequently asked if he were related to John. The sound of the names was similar, and few inquirers knew of the difference in the spelling. Whether William was asked the question or not I cannot speak to with certainty; but that John was I am sure, because he told me so himself, and, as well as I can recall them, in the following words:

”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.”