Her continental trip had rekindled Louise’s love of travelling and, in 1906, she decided to undertake an epic journey. This time her destination was North Africa. A couple of years previously, Beatrice, devastated by the loss of Osborne House and unable to bear the spectacle of it being handed over to the nation, had spent several months wintering in Egypt. Beatrice’s stories and sketchbooks had enthralled her family and had ignited in Louise a desire to see this fascinating country for herself. She and Lorne, with their entourage, followed in Beatrice’s footsteps. Two of Louise’s nephews also visited Egypt in the spring of 1906.
The Lornes left England in early January on the same steamer as Louise’s nephew Arthur (her brother Arthur’s son), who was travelling to Asia. At the end of January 1906, the newspapers remarked on how few members of the royal family were in England that winter: ‘The Prince and Princess of Wales are absent in India, the Duke and Duchess of Connaught and Princess Patricia are in South Africa, Prince Arthur of Connaught is en route for Japan, Princess Louise Duchess of Argyll is in Egypt, Princess Henry of Battenberg and Princess Ena of Battenberg are in the South of France, and Princess Louise of Schleswig-Holstein is touring in the East.’
For Louise, one of the highlights of their travels was a trip along the Nile. In the Royal Collection are a number of sketches by Louise dating from, or inspired by, her time in Egypt. She was intrigued by the people, their clothing, the animals and the landscape, all of which were so different from anything she had witnessed before. She made studies of the palm trees, the heavily laden working donkeys, the architecture of Egyptian buildings, riverside scenes of boats and boatmen, and studies of the different types of turban worn by Egyptian men.
For Louise, the extended holiday was inspiring and relaxing. She loved the Egyptian climate in January and welcomed the pleasurable feeling of being too hot, after the always cold London winter. As his wife basked on the sunny deck, sketching the scenes on the riverbanks and marvelling at the historic sights, Lorne grumbled about the heat and locked himself firmly away from the sunshine in his cabin. Many of his friends believed that Lorne had never truly settled back into life in England; his sister commented ‘His heart is always in Canada’, and even while they were in Egypt, Lorne’s thoughts were turning to Canada and the book he wanted to write, which he hoped would be a less controversial one than his biography of his motherin-law. He would go on to publish Yesterday and Today in Canada in 1910. Lorne was nostalgic for the great happiness he had felt while living in Canada, where he had been the most important person in the country, had received adulation and his word was law. Ever since their return, he had been merely the husband of a princess. Although he was now a duke in his own right, he was nonetheless an impoverished duke, reliant on his wife’s money for any changes to the ducal estate. The renovations at Rosneath and Louise’s easy command of them still rankled. The man whose poor dress sense had caused his wife and oldest brother-in-law to squirm when he was young remained a man whose taste, even in decorating his own castle, was constantly questioned.
The party travelled to the Sudan and then on to Alexandria. Although Louise did pay a formal visit to the Egyptian Khedive and Khediva, this was not a state visit, it was a holiday and a chance to be real, sightseeing tourists. They spent two months in Egypt before leaving Alexandria on 15 March and Louise celebrated her fifty-eigth birthday on the journey to Naples. Lorne’s mood did not improve until they had left Egypt. Louise, however, had found the holiday inspiring and had filled several sketchbooks with her artistic impressions of the country. A newspaper column entitled ‘A Royal Artist’ revealed:
I am told that the Princess Louise … has brought away with her from Egypt a velvet portfolio of drawings in watercolour, which she will finish during her residence at Kensington Palace within the next few weeks. Her Royal Highness was greatly interested in the examples of ancient enamel jewellery which are preserved in Cairo; and there is reason to anticipate that she will turn her studies to account by devising some jewelled objects in African designs. The Princess Louise is much benefited by her trip along the Nile Valley.
Lorne, who most certainly did not feel he was ‘much benefited’, was relieved to be back in Europe. Together, they travelled around Italy, visiting the ruins of Pompeii and Herculaneum and returning to Rome and Florence. They arrived in England to join in family celebrations. While they had been away, Beatrice’s daughter, Princess Ena of Battenberg, had become engaged to King Alfonso of Spain. The family were happy, but the public were not. The marriage of another English princess to a foreign royal might not have caused such controversy in Britain had it not been for Ena and Alfonso’s religious differences. When Ena converted to Catholicism in order to marry the Spanish king, Anglicans in Britain were appalled; despite the centuries that had passed since Henry VIII had broken away from the Church of Rome, the very word ‘Catholic’ still invoked in many Britons the fear of a ‘takeover’ of the monarchy. Since the mid nineteenth century, ‘Catholic’ had become painfully associated with the Fenians.
The situation in Spain was even more inflammatory. Initially, the royal wedding seemed to be hugely popular with the Spanish people. Triumphal arches were erected all over Madrid, bearing messages of welcome to the new queen, and 700,000 visitors were estimated to have arrived in the city, whose streets were ‘a bright mass of flowers, drapery and flags’, hoping for a glimpse of the king and his bride. It was reported with glee in the papers that Ena had turned, spontaneously, to embrace her mother, moments before the ceremony. The reporters also made a point of noting that she had signed her married name with a ‘gold fountain pen … presented to her by Spanish journalists’.
Following their wedding ceremony, the newly-weds were being driven through Madrid, from the church to the royal palace, when a bouquet of flowers was thrown at their carriage. The man who threw it was an anarchist2 and his flowers disguised a lethal bomb. Although the king and his new queen escaped relatively unharmed, they would suffer for years to come the emotional scars of the scenes they witnessed. Ena was horrified to see a bystander having both of his legs blown off. Several horses were killed or maimed by the bomb and one of the outriders accompanying the couple’s carriage was decapitated.
The newspapers proclaimed the tragedy: ‘The crowd so obstructed the traffic that with difficulty the Red Cross men were able to attend the injured. Shouts of indignation were raised by the crowd every time a dead body or injured man was carried out … Four soldiers were killed on the spot.’ As a tribute to those who had died, within days of the attack Queen Ena’s wedding dress, splattered with the victims’ blood, had been placed on display at the Church of Almádena, close to where the bombing had taken place.
After their return from Egypt and Italy, Louise and Lorne attended necessary public functions together, but both seemed to be more keen on travelling with friends than with each other. Louise’s next holiday was less exotic than Egypt, but equally artistic: she spent several days sketching in August 1906, eluding journalists. She stayed secretly in Buxton, with the daughter of her friends Lawrence and Laura Alma-Tadema. The papers were only alerted to her visit once she had left her hotel (the reason for her precipitate departure for London was given as ‘the break-up of the weather’ in Buxton). Lawrence Alma-Tadema had also generously agreed to display one of his paintings, Caracalla and Geta, at a charity exhibition to raise funds for Princess Louise’s Soldiers’ Home at Rosneath.
Louise continued her round of public appearances, performing the opening ceremony of Wandle Park, in south London, opening the new children’s ward at Essex County Hospital and naming the king’s new and very fast yacht in honour of her favourite sister-in-law. As she cut the yacht’s cord and smashed the bottle against her side, Louise called out, ‘Alexandra! Good luck to you!’ At a royal garden party – ‘the largest garden party on record at Windsor Castle’ – to celebrate the visit of the King of Siam and princes from Russia, Greece, Germany and India, Louise drew admiring comments from fas
hion journalists. Despite heading towards her sixtieth birthday, she was still the best-dressed woman at the party, in ‘a blue and white striped dress, with a white hat worn far back on the head’.
It was estimated that 8,500 guests attended the party and, the papers reported, ‘The scene … was one never to be forgotten … and Bohemian society had mustered in full force.’ Among the guests was the actress Ellen Terry, one of the group of Aesthetic friends whom Louise had made during the first years of her marriage. The country’s favourite actress caused a sensation by arriving with her new husband. At the age of 60, she had returned from a triumphal tour of America newly married to James Carew, an American actor twenty-nine years her junior.3 Another notable guest was Mark Twain, who was happy to renew his friendship with Louise and Lorne. Someone had leaked a story to the newspapers that Twain was in England because he wanted to buy Windsor Castle, and its grounds, and that he was trying to persuade the king to sell it to him, so he could have it dismantled and shipped back to America. In an interview with a journalist after the garden party (at which, the papers noted, he and the king and queen chatted animatedly and roared with laughter together), the author admitted that it was he who had leaked the ‘false rumour’ to the papers.
By the end of 1907, Louise was obviously under strain. She was forced to cancel some of her engagements through ‘indisposition’, was suffering problems with her eyesight and was feeling depressed. One problem concerned a new friendship Lorne had made. He had become friendly with Frank Shackleton, the brother of the great explorer, Sir Ernest Shackleton. Frank was a very different character from Ernest. By the end of 1907, King Edward VII was trying desperately to keep his brother-in-law’s name out of the papers when Frank Shackleton (who was known to be homosexual), was implicated in the shocking and daring theft of the Irish Crown Jewels.4 At the same time, Louise and Bertie were trying not to show their hostility to their nephew, Kaiser Wilhelm. The situation between Wilhelm and his English relations was growing strained and Louise, whom the kaiser openly called his ‘favourite aunt’, had to try and play the peacemaker between nephew and uncle – not only for the sake of family harmony, but in an attempt to prevent the two countries going to war.
At the end of the year, Louise heard about the death of her son, Henry Locock. He was killed on 9th December 1907, when he fell out of a moving Canadian Pacific train. Henry had gone to Canada to buy some land, as he had relatives living there who were advising him about the best places to invest in. A member of the Collett family, relatives of the Lococks, was waiting at the train’s final destination to meet him. The train arrived, bearing his luggage, but Henry was not on it and the alarm was raised. Louise must have wondered – as many people have wondered since – if there was also another reason for him to be visiting the country. Walter Stirling had emigrated to Canada. Was Henry Locock on a mission to find him? After falling from the train, his body was later discovered on the rails at Montreal West. Although there is no suggestion that Louise attempted to maintain maternal contact with him beyond the age of 16 (as Henry Locock told his children), she and all her family saw the Lococks as family friends and the two families did keep in touch following the deaths of Sir Charles Locock and Queen Victoria. Frederick Locock had received an annuity until the time of Henry Locock’s death. The annuity had begun after his adoption of the baby in 1867, and – just as mysteriously – following Henry Locock’s death a trust fund was set up for his children. The Locock family have assumed that the money came from Princess Louise.
At the time of his death, Henry Locock was declared to be 39 years old, because of the date written on his adoption certificate. However without a birth certificate it is impossible to know his true age. If Louise gave birth to him some months before he was adopted, he would have been 40 at the time he died. He had married some years earlier; his wife and six children were living in England.
When I was researching in Canada I was told of conspiracy theory rumours that had suggested Henry Locock was murdered, to prevent him from finding out the truth about his parentage, but the inquest showed that he had been drinking heavily and it found that his death was simply a tragic accident. Henry was last seen in the dining car, after which he walked off along the train and, somehow managing to open the wrong door, fell out on to the tracks.
The inquest on the death of Henry Frederick Leicester Locock was held in Montreal on 12 December 1907. The post-mortem report stated that Henry had been ‘under the influence of liquor at the time of the accident … The statements go to show that he fell off some car ahead of the diner, probably the colonist coach as he was seen to go in that direction and was not seen afterwards.’ Achille Peyfer, who examined the body, gave the following evidence: ‘On the deceased I found 47 piastres & 53 cents; a gun-metal watch and chain; a silver matchbox; two gold rings; one cigarette box; two bunches of keys.’
Henry Locock’s body was returned to England and buried in the Locock family vault at St Nicholas Church, Sevenoaks, in Kent.
CHAPTER 27
The king, the kaiser and the duke
In deepest admiration and esteem for one who devoted her whole life and energy to the advancement and welfare of her fellow-countrymen
Inscription on Princess Louise’s wreath, for Octavia Hill’s funeral
In the autumn of 1908, matters grew even worse between the kaiser and the king. However much Bertie attempted to grit his teeth and tolerate his much-loved sister’s son, the two men had never liked one another. Marjorie Crofton, one of Louise’s former ladies-in-waiting, recalled several stories about the antipathy between the uncle and nephew: ‘H.R.H. told me how on one occasion at Sandringham they were all waiting in the hall for the Kaiser who was late. King Edward hated unpunctuality. At last the Kaiser appeared on the stairs rather decked out with feathers in his hat. So King Edward saw him [and] in his loud voice said ‘What a mountebank the man looks’ and the Princess said ‘Wasn’t it awful? William heard and never forgave his uncle’.
Another of Marjorie Crofton’s reminiscences reveals the sad cause behind Wilhelm’s arrogant personality, which was used to mask the lack of confidence caused by his disabled left arm:1
One story about the King and the Kaiser was that the latter liked to shoot, but because of his withered arm he was no good at it, so always brought a man with him who was a crack shot and stood behind him and fired at the same moment and of course brought down the bird or rabbit. The Kaiser then boasted of his prowess, especially if he had a bigger bag than King Edward who was an excellent shot. The King said afterward, ‘We would all be so sympathetic if he couldn’t hit his mark, but this boasting absolutely sickens me’. So he wouldn’t praise him.
During Wilhelm’s visit in 1907, Louise, aware that she was one of the few family members who had any influence with her nephew,2 made her best attempts at diplomacy, having lunch with the German ambassador and taking Wilhelm to art galleries. The kaiser was reported to have particularly enjoyed the Wallace Collection, where he ‘displayed the keenest interest … in the German sixteenth century armour’. (He also cast doubt on the authenticity and provenance of one of the gallery’s most proud exhibits, which flustered the curators.) Wilhelm’s itinerary included shopping on Oxford Street, visiting the German Athenaeum, to which he gave a portrait of himself, and sending flowers to the ailing and elderly Florence Nightingale, who had been bedridden for many years.
By the end of 1908 Wilhelm’s behaviour had grown even more unpredictable. As Wilfrid Scawen Blunt recalled in his diary, the Daily Telegraph published ‘a new manifesto by Kaiser William … It is most compromising in regard to past history. The most remarkable things in it are when he declares that the French and Russian Governments proposed to him in the winter of 1899–1900 to intervene against England in favour of the Transvaal which he refused to join in doing – and that he then supplied the English Government with a plan of campaign against the Boers which was the one adopted successfully … The whole of Europe is up in arms against the
Emperor Wilhelm for his pronouncement – especially his own people in Germany … There never was a moment when the complications of European diplomacy were more difficult for an outsider to unravel.’
In addition to his political worries, Bertie’s marriage had become increasingly volatile. Alix was incensed by his continuing affair with Mrs Keppel. Things came to a head in the spring of 1909, when one of Bertie’s former mistresses died in Paris. She had hoarded compromising letters Bertie had written to her in his youth, and her friend, Charlie Kettlewell, who found them after her death, used them to try and blackmail the king. What already seemed an impossible situation became even worse when Kettlewell died and Bertie found himself in the even more worrying situation of not knowing who had the letters.
In comparison to that of the king and queen, Louise and Lorne’s marriage appeared relatively strong. But they were continuing to spend a great deal of time apart. The newspapers reported that Lorne had been in Scotland while Louise was in London and that he was returning to Kensington just as Louise was about to leave the country for ‘a few weeks’. Louise began 1909 with a series of colds and illnesses that prevented her from making several public appearances. She was run down and unhappy about Lorne’s irascible behaviour and her awareness that he had a serious mental illness that was changing his personality. His mood was not helped by the opening of a new art exhibition at the start of the year, entitled Fair Women. As well as portraits of some of the country’s most famous beauties, including Ellen Terry and Jane Morris, and one of Burne-Jones’s masterpieces, The Mirror of Venus, the exhibition included a portrait of Lady Colin Campbell.
Queen Victoria's Mysterious Daughter Page 35
