As hammers smashed plaster busts, scissors rent keepsakes and photographs buckled and hissed on bonfires, no one in the inner royal circle had any doubt about the reasons for the new sovereign’s ire against the famous Scot. Those with the longest memories recalled stories of how John Brown had smacked the backside of the errant young Prince of Wales. Surely these vicious attacks on the memory of John Brown by a sixty-year-old man could not be traced back to such a minor indignity, however painful? No, there was more to it than that. King Edward had been deeply humiliated by his mother’s taking Brown’s side in the quarrels he had had with the Highland servant. Yet there was a deeper insult in Edward’s eyes. After Prince Albert’s death in 1861, Queen Victoria looked upon her family as having ‘no Male head’, thus degrading her son’s position.
5
The fact that John Brown was ‘discreet’ gave him manly qualities in Queen Victoria’s eyes and won him a position of virile gentlemanliness in her household. A deeply insecure man, King Edward was further blisteringly offended that his mother should consider a servant to have finer qualities than himself.
6
Although Edward was more than aware that his mother was ‘amazingly indiscreet’, he had been very dismayed at her impropriety, as he saw it, in ‘expressing her private life to the world’ in her volume
More Leaves from the Journal of a Life in the Highlands
.
7
He even told her so in a letter of 1884 thanking her for an advance copy of the book, and alluding to the mention of Brown in the text.
8
Edward had long been irritated by his mother’s attitude towards servants. Queen Victoria had spent a large part of her life among servants, and held most of them in great esteem – higher than she did many of her friends and family. Edward looked upon his mother’s regard for servants as a part of her eccentricity, but he thought that in rebuking her offspring, and members of her immediate household, for being haughty to servants she was going too far. He had some sympathy with his brother Prince Arthur, whose Governor Sir Howard Elphinstone had been constantly bombarded with terse and lengthy letters from the Queen about ‘the boy’s offhand manner [to servants]’.
9
Edward’s own epistolary tactlessness over the Queen’s
More Leaves
revelations sprang as much from his fear that the public would deride his mother’s sentimentality about servants in general, and John Brown in particular, as from his active hatred for Brown. Despite his own serial adultery as Prince of Wales, Edward was always stung by the rumours that persisted for decades about his mother and John Brown.
Queen Victoria had been brought up with sexual tittle-tattle in her mother’s entourage. Had she not herself once glimpsed the tender whispering, the touched hands, the arm around the waist, that had suggested intimacy between the Duchess of Kent and her Household Comptroller Sir John Conroy? It was a scene that she had described to her devoted German friend Baroness Späth, her mother’s Lady-in-Waiting.
10
And then there was all the ‘horrid gossip’ about her randy Hanoverian uncles, the sons of her grandfather King George III. Now it was her turn.
Queen Victoria was well aware of the scandalous rumours that circulate about her and John Brown. In a letter to her equerry Lord Charles Fitzroy, she wrote about ‘those wicked and idle lies about poor, good, Brown which appeared in the Scotch provincial papers last year’.
11
The Queen was referring to one paper in particular which circulated in the Balmoral area.
12
It had run this story:
The London correspondent of the
John o’Groats Journal
13
says: ‘I suppose all my readers have heard of the great favourite John Brown. His dismissal some weeks ago was generally talked about at the time, and I observe that the fact has now found its way into print, coupled with the suggestion of John Brown’s probable restoration to power before long. The reason assigned for his dismissal is an inordinate indulgence in the national taste for whisky, and the restraining of that appetite is mentioned as a likely condition of his re-admission to favour. Far be it from me to question Mr Brown’s power of suction . . . [yet] it is easy to suppose that a Highland gillie, who has achieved a practical realisation of his compatriots’ with ‘a Loch Lomond of whisky’ will certainly not be a teetotaller. But Brown’s fall has been more commonly ascribed to Mr Punch than to any shortcoming of his own. A few weeks ago
Punch
gave us the following as ‘Court Circular’:
“
BALMORAL
, Tuesday.
Mr John Brown walked on the slopes.
He subsequently partook of a haggis.
In the evening Mr John Brown was pleased to listen to a bagpipe.
Mr John Brown retired early.”
Those few lines gave rise to an immense deal of gossip and in a few days we heard that Brown was discharged. It is said his insolence to every person he came in contact with about the Court was latterly quite intolerable, and some friends of mine, who were near Windsor fishing, not long ago, who frequently saw the favourite, not then disgraced, gave me the benefit of a good deal of local gossip about the lusty gillie.
Queen Victoria was suspicious about who was spreading gossip about John Brown and herself, and she concurred with her Prime Minister Edward George Stanley, 14th Earl of Derby, who believed that certain courtiers were leaking anti-Brown comments to such journals as
Punch
and
Tomahawk
. He cited names to the Queen, including George Villiers, 4th Earl of Clarendon, and Sir Edwin Landseer.
14
Scandalous rumours about Queen Victoria were nothing new. Soon after her accession to the throne she had become increasingly dependent upon her Prime Minister, William Lamb, 2nd Viscount Melbourne. He became her ‘indispensable father figure’. Yet, although ‘there was never the least impropriety’ between them, Queen Victoria was soon gossiped about as ‘Mrs Melbourne’. And there was another soubriquet. The pre-Raphaelites, that group of ‘natural form’ painters and others, were to call her ‘Empress Brown’.
15
An anonymous American visitor noted:
Englishmen do not scruple to sully the fair name of their Queen . . . Soon after my arrival in England, at a table where all the company were gentlemen by rank or position, there were constant references and jokes about ‘Mrs Brown’ . . . I lost the point of all the witty sayings, and should have remained in blissful ignorance throughout the dinner had not my host kindly informed me that ‘Mrs Brown’ was an English synonym for the Queen . . .
16
Rumours that John Brown and Queen Victoria had a sexual relationship were well established during her reign and there is a curious royal link which gave them substance. Tradition had it that from time to time the Prince of Wales shared the bed of the Victorian trollop Catherine Walters, known in loose society as ‘Skittles’ because she had once worked in a Liverpool bowling alley. She was ‘kept’ for many years by Spencer Compton Cavendish, Marquess of Hartington, the eldest son of the 7th Duke of Devonshire. ‘Harty Tarty’ – as the peer was known in the Prince of Wales’s set – was a prominent procurer of society ladies and tarts for the Prince’s bed and was privy to his indiscretions – as was Skittles.
The Prince of Wales was devoted to Skittles and commissioned the Austrian-born sculptor Joseph Edgar Boehm to prepare a bust of her for his collection. During her sittings Skittles gossiped with Boehm about Brown, as the sculptor had been commanded to Court around 1869/70 to create a bust of Brown for the Queen. John Brown referred to the sculptor thereafter as ‘Herr Bum’. Historians believe that Boehm was the main informant – spiced up with pillowtalk from ‘Harty Tarty’ and the Prince of Wales – via another of Skittles’ lovers, the diplomat, traveller and poet Wilfred Scawen Blunt, who himself kept a very indiscreet private diary.
Blunt recorded:
Brown was a rude unmannerly fellow . . . but he had unbounded influence with the Queen whom he treated with little respect, presuming in every way upon his position with her. It was the talk of all the Household that he was ‘the Queen’s Stallion’. He was a fine man physically, though coarsely made, and had fine eyes (like the late Prince Consort’s, it was said), and the Queen, who had been passionately in love with her husband, got it into her head that somehow the Prince’s spirit had passed into Brown, and four years after her widowhood, being very unhappy, allowed him all privileges. It was to be with him, where she could do as she liked, that she spent so much of her time at Balmoral, though he was also with her at Osborne and elsewhere . . . She used to go away with him to a little house in the hills where, on the pretence that it was for protection and ‘to look after the dogs’, he had a bedroom next to hers, ladies-in-waiting being put at the other end of the building . . . [There could be] no doubt of his being allowed every conjugal privilege.
17
Blunt made no attempt to substantiate any of his comments.
Because Queen Victoria’s life was largely hidden from the public, it was hardly surprising that a whole range of myths about her were given undue credence and had some plausibility, being apparently based on sound sources. Four rumours in particular were given regular airings in scurrilous pamphlets such as
Mrs John Brown
.
18
The first was that Queen Victoria and John Brown were married; second, that a child had been born to the Queen and John Brown; third, that John Brown was a spiritualistic medium who helped the Queen to keep in touch with her beloved Prince Albert; fourth, that the Queen had gone insane and John Brown was her ‘keeper’. The first two of these calumnies were given credence in the Swiss publication
Gazette de Lausanne
. Under an anonymous hand the offending paragraphs read:
On dit
[They say] . . . that with Brown and by him she consoles herself for Prince Albert, and they go even further. They add that she is in an interesting condition, and that if she was not present for the Volunteers Review, and at the inauguration of the monument to Prince Albert, it was only in order to hide her pregnancy. I hasten to add that the Queen has been morganatically married to her attendant for a long time, which diminishes the gravity of the thing.
19
The British Minister Plenipotentiary, the Hon. E.A.J. Harris, based at Berne, made an official complaint to the Swiss Federal Council about the paper’s allegations. The Swiss did nothing but Harris’s complaint inevitably gave the scurrilous nonsense a wider audience than it would have otherwise achieved.
20
By and large the British press left the Swiss paper’s gossip alone, and even the socialist radical weekly
Reynolds Newspaper
, certainly no supporter of Queen Victoria, refused to follow up the story. Yet from such as the Swiss gossip branched a whole tree of slander and innuendo, and not just on the tongues of the lower classes.
These rumours are as alive today as they were in Queen Victoria’s own lifetime, and the 1998 film
Mrs Brown
gave them a new lease of life. What was the truth behind these persistent rumours? This book endeavours to unravel fact from fiction against the background of Queen Victoria’s courts at Windsor, Osborne and Balmoral.
Early in the morning of Thursday 24 March 1603, Queen Elizabeth I of England died. Within eight hours of her death, 36-year-old James Stewart was proclaimed King of England in London. He had reigned in Scotland as King James VI ever since his mother, Mary, Queen of Scots, had been forced to abdicate on 24 July 1567. On 5 April 1603 James disappeared down the road to Greenwich, with his ‘gowff clubbis’, to be at the hub of his new United Kingdom. Thereafter royal visits to Scotland became rare for some 220 years.
James VI and I returned to Scotland once, in 1617, in an attempt to impose Anglican ritual upon the recalcitrant Scottish Kirk; he stayed for seven months. James’s second son Charles I, who was born on 19 November 1600 at Dunfermline, Fife, visited Edinburgh as monarch and on 18 June 1633 was crowned with Scotland’s own regalia. During June 1650 Charles II landed in Scotland and on 1 January 1651 was crowned King of Scots at Scone; he never returned to Scotland after his Restoration in 1660. In 1679 James, Duke of York, later King James II, stayed at Holyrood Palace, to the disgust of strict Presbyterians who loathed his religion and his predilection for drama and court entertainments. Nevertheless James returned to Edinburgh in 1680 as Lord High Commissioner, bringing with him his wife Anne Hyde and his daughter Princess Anne, who was to rule as Queen Anne, the last of the Stewart monarchs.
There were no further royal visits to Scotland until 1715, when Prince James Francis Edward Stewart, the only surviving son of James II landed at Peterhead in an attempt to win back the British throne from the grasp of the Hanoverian succession. Again in 1745, Prince James’s son Charles Edward Stewart, great-grandson of Charles I, took up the cudgels against George II, but all his hopes were strangled at Culloden field on 16 April 1746, when Charles’s Jacobite army was utterly destroyed by the forces of his cousin, the Hanoverian Prince William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland. Prince Charles’s desperate flight to France from the shores of Loch nan Uamh aboard
L’Heureux
on 19 September marked the end of this phase of royal visits to Scotland.
Almost seventy years later, the Scots were startled to learn that their new monarch King George IV, who had succeeded his father George III in 1820, intended to visit Scotland. The Scots aristocracy were sent into a flurry of consternation and activity as no one could remember how a royal progress should be organised. As royal pageant-master, Sir Walter Scott dug and delved in the nation’s archives in order to create a tartan panorama to welcome the monarch. His efforts were based mostly on invented Highland mythology, customs and dress, but the jubilation, processions and presentations lasted for ten days from Tuesday 13 August. The Scots would never see their like again.