In the 1970s, the official explanation given for Stirling’s dismissal by the Libraries at Windsor Castle was that ‘After Stirling’s appointment in early 1866 the doctors attending the Prince advised the Queen that he really needed to be in the care of a Governor who was more used to dealing with persons of delicate health, and the Queen felt she had made a mistake in appointing an army man to this post. Stirling therefore relinquished the appointment and returned to the Artillery.’ Leopold was heartbroken, and the impetuous dismissal of Stirling, before another tutor had yet been found, is one of the mysteries that make researching Princess Louise so fascinating. The 1970s explanation is vigorously belied by the fact that for several weeks after Stirling’s dismissal Leopold was not cared for by someone more aware of his ‘delicate health’; he was at the mercy of the brutal Archie Brown, the bullying brother of John Brown, who regularly pinched and beat the prince and not only made his everyday life unbearable but seriously endangered the sickly boy’s health. The reason for Stirling’s dismissal was a mystery, and the 1970s letter just adds fuel to the fire of speculation that it was to do with a scandalous secret.
When researching Louise’s life, the second half of the 1860s presents a great deal of intrigue. There is one particular rumour that persists and I had hoped to find the answer to it in the Royal Archives. Louise’s files being closed made this rumour assume more importance. The decision to hide away her files indicates very strongly that there is something in them that the archivists, even in the twenty-first century, feel the need to conceal. Since the late 1860s rumours have persisted that Princess Louise gave birth to an illegitimate child. The father, it is claimed, was her brother’s tutor. There are two names that come up in connection with Louise and the purported illegitimate son. One is Walter Stirling and the other is his replacement, the Reverend Robinson Duckworth (a friend of the author Lewis Carroll and the inspiration for the Duck in Alice in Wonderland). In 1960, one of Duckworth’s nephews wrote down the oral history passed on in his family:
Princess Louise always had great affection for this uncle … and wished to marry him. In those days such an idea was not to be thought of … [she] gave him a Bible with touching inscriptions also a peculiar signet ring (it contained a lock of her hair) which Uncle R wore. Also another ring containing 4 stones Ruby and Diamond for Robinson Duckworth & 2 Lapis Lazuli for Leopold and Louise. Inside an inscription: Forget us not Le. Lo. ’67.
Elizabeth Longford also claims in her book, Darling Loosy, that Duckworth was Louise’s ‘first love’; Jehanne Wake writes that Louise developed a ‘schoolgirl crush’ on Duckworth and that he was ‘her first girlhood love’.
Although Louise grew extremely fond of Duckworth, it seems unlikely that they became lovers. Duckworth too would be dismissed as Leopold’s tutor, but not until 1870, after he had been in the post for three years. In addition, Duckworth was not sent away from the royal household, as Stirling had been. Once Duckworth was replaced as Leopold’s tutor, he remained in the household as one of the queen’s chaplains. The ring that Louise designed for him was made to commemorate the date on which he had arrived with them. It seems to have been a token of friendship rather than one proclaiming sexual love.
Duckworth’s family revealed that, towards the end of his life, he was deeply saddened by the rumours that had emerged claiming he had slept with the young princess. In 1955, Captain Arthur Duckworth, nephew of the Reverend Duckworth, wrote to the Royal Archives to enquire whether there was any truth in the rumours that still dogged his uncle’s memory. The royal archivist, Owen Morshead, wrote in response that there was no suggestion at all of a romance between Duckworth and Princess Louise. In his letter, dated 24 October 1955, he commented, ‘After her [Princess Louise’s] death I spent a fortnight in her residence, emptying the drawers and tin boxes, and reading every letter. I found nothing (and expected to find nothing) pointing to such an incident.’ His letter also gives a fascinating glimpse into the way in which Princess Louise’s life was to be carefully documented and then hidden away within the archives. Duckworth was the person who turned around Leopold’s misery after the terrible months under the control of Archie Brown, and Louise loved him for that. As he was a close friend and confidant of both Leopold and Louise, it is possible she discussed with him her affair with Stirling. Duckworth was a gentle, kindly man who made it his mission to help the sickly Prince Leopold lead as interesting and fulfilling a life as possible; and under the command of the Rev. Duckworth, Louise was once more allowed to spend time with her brother. In 1973, Arthur Duckworth contacted the author Nina Epton, writing if there were any truth to the family rumour. He wrote, ‘Leopold was devoted to his tutor and so, I believe, were all the royal family, and particularly Princess Louise, whom I have been told wished to marry him.’ Nina Epton, whose book was about Queen Victoria and all her daughters, responded with a telling letter that reveals even she was kept in the dark by the Royal Archives about Victoria’s mysterious fourth daughter. Her letter includes the words, ‘I was so very short on material about Louise. I had hoped to be able to consult the Windsor Castle archives … Anyway I am sure there must be information which is still kept private, unless it was destroyed by the arch-inquisitor Princess Beatrice. This is most likely.’
It is possible that the rumours voiced for many years within the Duckworth family that Louise had wanted to marry the reverend had their basis in fact. It is also possible that the princess did consider marrying her friend, perhaps naively believing that to do so might enable her to adopt her illegitimate baby and raise him as their son. This would account for the persistent rumours within the family.
Despite all attempts to erase him from royal history, the most likely candidate for Louise’s lover was Walter Stirling, welcomed into the family and dismissed just four months later. That Jehanne Wake makes no mention of him in her book – the manuscript of which was checked by the Royal Archives – is telling. When the Rev. Duckworth was hired to replace Stirling, the queen’s one reservation was that she wished Duckworth had not been so handsome; it seems she had come to the conclusion that good looks were a dangerous asset in a royal tutor.
Following his dismissal, Stirling was sent back to the Royal Horse Artillery and was later posted overseas. Interestingly, the reason Elizabeth Longford gives in her book for Stirling’s dismissal is different from the official explanation from the Windsor Castle Libraries. Longford, who was allowed access to Princess Louise’s files under supervision, states that Stirling was dismissed because he had a ‘quarrel’ with Archie Brown. In the 1970s, Michael Gledhill wrote to Elizabeth Longford to ask if she could help him at all with his research into Princess Louise. In her kind response the author pondered, ‘I felt that when Princess Beatrice transcribed her mother’s diary she must have cut out almost as much about Princess Louise as she did about John Brown!’
It is documented that Stirling and Archie Brown did not get on well, but that was not particularly surprising. Archie’s surly manner endeared him to few members of the royal household, so it seems unlikely that Stirling would have been singled out for dismissal. Stirling was also known to have quarrelled with Leopold’s Scottish valet, Robertson, who was friends with and as much of a bully as Archie Brown and was equally unpleasant to the delicate Leopold. In an attempt to explain why she had dismissed Leopold’s tutor, the queen claimed that Stirling did not understand the Highland temperament – forgetting that Stirling himself was Scottish.
The truth was that Stirling was defending Leopold, who found Archie Brown and Robertson frightening; the young prince described them in a letter to Stirling as ‘the dreadful Scotch servants’. Archie seems to have been particularly cruel. A few years later, Leopold wrote a heartfelt letter to his friend Major Collins: ‘that devil Archie, he does nothing, but jeer at, & be impertinent to me every day, & in the night he won’t do anything for me though I order it, not even give me my chamberpot … the infernal blackguard. I could tear him limb from limb I loathe him so.’ It is
astonishing that the queen was so in thrall to John Brown that she allowed his brother to behave in an abusive and deliberately cruel manner to her sickly and vulnerable son, a child who was regularly unable to walk due to problems associated with haemophilia, and who needed to be able to rely on the kindness and understanding of his servants.
The story of Louise’s life in the second half of the 1860s has been carefully sanitised and edited. Although the princess wrote constant letters – even at an early age she complained to Prince Arthur about the large number of people she had to write to every day – Elizabeth Longford does not seem to have been granted permission to reproduce many, and those published in her book Darling Loosy appear to have been very carefully hand-picked by archivists. Longford offers little explanation of who Stirling was. She does write about the rumour of Louise having an illegitimate baby, but she does so carefully, and only in relation to the Reverend Duckworth. After dismissing the rumours that Duckworth and Louise had an affair she comments ‘there is no record of this … in the Royal Archives’. She does not mention whether the archives contain any reference to Stirling and Louise having an affair (although it seems unlikely that any such references would have survived Princess Beatrice).
In Longford’s book, a joint letter is printed from Louise and Leopold to Walter Stirling, just after his dismissal, in which they talk about how he has been ‘got out’ of the household ‘in an unpleasant way’. Louise and Leopold wrote alternate lines of the letter, so that Stirling should know it was truly from both of them and that they felt exactly the same way about the injustice of his dismissal:
Today is Monday, Affie’s birthday … breakfast was laid in the council room … Bertie for a wonder appeared at 9.30am, but Alix could not be up so soon, her usual time for breakfast being about 11am … We wondered what the new extra groom in waiting at the R.H.A. [Royal Horse Artillery] would be doing today; not having organs to grind or dogs to whip or cats to run after or pushing painters to sky daddle, we thought our best employment would be to write a joint comic epistle to our well beloved W.G.!!! a very kind friend of ours, in Scotch political troubles, but (thank God) is out of it now though got out of it in an unpleasant way.
After Stirling was dismissed the queen wrote to Major Elphinstone (who had been governor to both Arthur and Leopold and was instrumental in appointing Stirling) of her reasons for sending him away. As was usual, she wrote about herself in the third person: ‘she does not think that Mr Stirling was suited for that post … the Queen must likewise own – that there is that in Mr S’s manner – wh (& she felt it, tho she did not admit it – from the very 1st) wh wld make it very difficult for her to get on with him’. Elphinstone and another of the queen’s advisors, Sir John Cowell, were saddened by the decision, knowing Stirling was good at his job and how attached Leopold was to him; they also felt it was deeply unfair to Stirling. Both men suggested Stirling be given the job of training Prince Arthur for the army, but, even though he would have been ideal for the role, the queen refused. It was apparent that she wanted Stirling out of the royal household immediately and was not prepared to explain her reasons to anyone outside the immediate family. There must have been a very pressing reason to dismiss Leopold’s tutor before another suitable candidate had been found. Everyone in the household was gossiping and wondering about what this could be.
Leopold was heartbroken by the decision and became sullen with his mother. The queen was shocked by the force of her frail son’s rage; she wrote in a sad letter to a friend, Lady Biddulph, that Leopold was being ‘quite dreadful to me’. Leopold defiantly wore on his finger a gold ring Stirling had given him as a parting gift; this angered the queen, but Leopold refused to take it off. The queen took her revenge by refusing to allow Leopold and Louise to spend time together. Leopold wrote an agonised letter to Stirling, declaring ‘I am no more allowed to stop with Louise as I used to do.’ When the family were taken to Cliveden for a holiday, Louise ‘broke down’ as she wrote to her friend Louisa Bowater about her misery at the situation, ‘a great grief to us both’.
If Louise did have a baby with Walter Stirling, the child must have been born towards the end of 1866 or the start of 1867. Louise was very fit and fairly tall; she was slimmer than her sisters, although not slender by today’s standards, as photographs attest. If she had gained weight during this year, it would have seemed unremarkable, as Victoria and all her other daughters had a tendency to rotundity; Louise was in her teens, so any weight gain could easily have been assumed to be ‘puppy fat’. Women used a great many fashion artifices to disguise pregnancies well into their seventh or eighth month, as Alix had done. It is interesting to see how many mentions there are in 1866 and 1867 of Louise’s dresses as very highly decorated, with references to ribbons and bows and pleats. Unless Louise suddenly changed her fashion sense, and then changed it back again, these extra accessories could well have been disguising a pregnancy. As noted earlier, maternity corsets squeezed the foetus into such a small amount of space that a woman was still able to achieve a slender waist many months into a pregnancy. The voluminous Victorian skirts, often heavily decorated with swathes of material sweeping round to the bustle, went a long way to disguising pregnancy and, as the more advanced stage would have been in the winter, Louise could have worn numerous shawls and wraps – not to mention a large hand-warming muff, another common means of concealing pregnancy. Throughout the autumn and early winter of 1866, the queen and family spent a great deal of time in Balmoral, with their most trusted members of the household and very few visitors. Louise was often described as being in poor health, allegedly with recurrences of her crippling headaches.
There are many stories of Victorian women, in the servant class, who continued working right up until the moment they went into labour, and of their employers as having no idea that a pregnancy was being concealed. Many women succeeded in hiding all signs of pregnancy and childbirth, and if the baby survived they would continue to work without their employers finding out, leaving their child with family members. Women were moved to such measures by the harshness of society towards a woman who had a baby outside marriage – yet the same society did nothing to punish the fathers, even if the baby was the result of rape. If a working woman was discovered to be pregnant she would almost inevitably be dismissed without references or pay.
In 1864, the body of a stillborn baby was discovered in a field in St Ninian’s in Renfrewshire. Its mother was a young servant, who had managed to conceal her pregnancy from both her family and her employers. Two years later, a servant named Helen Sutherland was found guilty of concealing her pregnancy and murdering her baby in an attempt to keep her job. The court was told no one had any knowledge the girl was pregnant and that she had given birth ‘unaided’. In 1878, a servant named Margaret Brown, living in Aberdeen, was sentenced to nine months in prison. Although she had gone through a full-term pregnancy her employers had not noticed she was pregnant, and her condition was discovered only after she had given birth; the baby had died and her secret was uncovered when its body was found in a shallow grave. Margaret Brown was arrested for murder, but that was not proved and the baby was deemed to have died at birth. The crime for which she was sent to prison was ‘concealment of pregnancy’. This was a recognised criminal offence and such cases regularly appeared in the papers. If a servant, wearing far more simple clothing than a princess, was able to use her clothing to conceal her condition, then Princess Louise, renowned for her unique fashion sense, who was able to sew and who had access to the best and most discreet dressmakers in the country, could certainly have done so.
It has often been claimed that Louise could not possibly have been pregnant at this time as she was recorded as having danced at a servants’ ball, and the queen’s Scottish diaries show that Louise was often encouraged to ride. Pregnancy would have been no barrier to dancing and at a Scottish ball Louise’s dress would have been covered by a plaid shawl. If the queen had been hoping her daughter would miscarry, then ener
getic exercise would have been encouraged. One also has to remember that women of that era rode side-saddle, which would have been little more dangerous for a pregnant woman than being constantly jolted in a carriage, an everyday occurrence for the princesses.
It is notable that Princess Louise made few public appearances for several months at the end of 1866 and on those she did she met people who would be extremely unlikely to suspect that an unmarried princess could possibly be having a baby – as on her visit to the boys’ parish school in Balmoral in October 1866 – or they were public appearances at which Louise was seen sitting inside a carriage, not getting out or walking around. In November 1866, Louise was with her mother when they visited the site for the Albert Memorial in London, but they simply drove up to the site to view it – and to give the public a brief glimpse of their queen. A couple of weeks later, Louise accompanied her mother to Windsor station, but when the queen disembarked from the carriage and took the train to Wolverhampton, for some reason she did not choose to take her daughter with her. While Victoria began her journey to knight the Mayor of Wolverhampton and unveil the town’s statue of Prince Albert (sculpted by Thomas Thornycroft), Louise remained in the carriage, and as soon as her mother had departed, was returned swiftly to the confines of Windsor Castle.
Queen Victoria's Mysterious Daughter Page 10