How this phrase or epithet came to be attached to the Duke of York's Royal Military School has not been established, but the relationship between the two, school and phrase, can be fixed with certainty to the creation of a painting. Philip Morris ARA (1838-1902) painted a canvas titled Sons of the Brave and dedicated it to the institution, then known as the Royal Military Asylum, Chelsea.

There are three known versions of the Morris canvas, which will be dealt with in detail in due course once the facts are known and established. The original nine feet by seven feet painting has a fascinating history in that it was lost to its rightful owners for more than seventy years. Now, thanks to the investigative work of Peter Goble of Harrogate, Yorkshire, its ownership has been established beyond question despite the opinion expressed by some who throw doubt on their own ethics that Goble should have 'let sleeping dogs lie'. The second aspect of interest of the Morris canvas, presently hanging in the dining room of the school, first exhibited in 1880, is that it gave rise to what might conveniently be called the 'Sons of the Brave' industry.

The catalogue describes the 'picture as one of the artist's most important works', stating that it was first exhibited in 1882 (in fact, it was first exhibited in 1880 as confirmed by a cover article in the Graphic Magazine dated 1880. The catalogue description was an important aid to authenticating the original canvas.

Even Morris's treatment of the Sons of the Brave verges on the maudlin. Nor does the writer of the Leeds City Art Gallery text disabuse one of the view with his frequent references to 'little sister', 'look(s) of infinite delight' and 'dear boy' etc.

The 1880 Graphic Magazine supplement featured a wood-cut etching of the Morris canvass and an enthusiastic commentary. As a result, the public flocked to view the painting. The question is did the Morris canvas owe its success to anything more than national advertizing via the Graphic? I believe it did. 

The prestige of imperial British arms had suffered a serious blow the previous year (1879) when, at the Battle of Isandelwana, Zulu Impis destroyed Lord Chelmsford's invading force of redcoats. National distress from this defeat was only slightly mollified by the successful repulse at Rorke's Drift of thousands of attacking Zulu warriors by a handful of soldiers from the same regiment (the 24th Foot) that had perished at Isandhlwana. Together, wounded national pride, Victorian sentimentality and successful advertizing by the Graphic combined to heighten the public's enthusiasm for the Morris painting.  

Following the RA exhibition, requests for loan of the canvas were received for inclusion in numerous exhibitions. The size of the painting made its transportation difficult. Yet it was enough in demand to be included in the 1897 International Exhibition in Sydney, Australia. Upon its return to England, Colonel T. W. Harding, a rich and influential patron of the arts as well as the Lord Mayor of the City of Leeds in 1898, bought the painting for an undisclosed sum. He presented it to the Leeds City Art Gallery, of which he was a founding member, for inclusion in its permanent collection. Here the matter of the Morris painting and its venue rested.

By the end of the Second World War in 1945, the painting that had begun the 'Sons of the Brave' industry had been lost from  the gallery's permanent collection. How so large a painting could go missing was a mystery until very recently when diligent research revealed the truth.

One theory put forward by Alex Robertson, the gallery's Curator of Fine Art, who joined in the search, was that along with other valuable paintings at the outbreak of the Second World War in 1939, it had been placed in safe storage. It could have been loaned out when war threatened, he wrote, or might have been left in the basement. (A hand-written note on a later inventory refers to an empty frame in the basement.)

Part of the gallery's inventory had been disposed of in 1939 at an auction by Cristie's, but Morris's Sons of the Brave was not in the sale. The fact that a section of the painting had been used for the dust cover of the book published in 1984 was the key.

Information that the painting (or a copy of the original) was lodged in the school could belong to the City of Leeds was a surprise to everyone familiar with the work, not least the Director of Fine Art himself. When appraised of the situation, Major General A. L. Meier, CB OBE, presently the president of the School's board of commissioners, directed that a search be made of the school records. 

The gallery had not produced a paper trail from its own records to establish ownership. As events transpired, this was not necessary. A search of the Duke of York's records revealed the truth. In the minutes of the School Commissioners' meeting for 19 January 1927 there is reference to the picture Sons of the Brave on loan from the City of Leeds Gallery.

Ownership of the painting was at last established. It is indisputably the property of the Leeds City Art Gallery. Tracing the painting's authenticity and ownership was complicated by the fact that at least three versions of it exist: two at the school, a third at the old Duke of York's Headquarters building at Chelsea.

What happens from now on is a matter for the Director of Fine Arts and his colleagues to decide. They will need to know and satisfy themselves as to the condition of the painting, its current market value for insurance purposes, and its disposition.

Nevertheless, a letter of thanks over the signature of a director of the City of Leeds Art Gallery to Goble made the lengthy investigation worthwhile. He wrote: