[Thunder Rumbling]
[Panting]
[Thunderclap]
God save the Queen!
[Man] "I have sent for a Mr John Brown from Balmoral.
"Her Majesty has mentioned him on one or two occasions...
"as being a most devoted outdoor servant to Prince Albert...
"during his last days there.
"The depths of the Queen's sorrow remain impenetrable.
"She has now restricted herself to a regime...
"of such ferocious introspection...
"that we are all at our wits' end.
"The household continues at her instruction...
"to observe the rituals now so familiar to her.
"in a vain attempt to render vivid...
"that which can never be revived.
"Family and staff expend all their efforts...
"in endeavouring to draw her out of this state of unfettered morbidity,
"but to no avail.
"We must hope, therefore, that this Mr Brown...
"would appeal to the Queen's...
"sentimental though deeply held view...
"that all Highlanders are good for the health.
[Gasping]
Sorry, ma'am.
"He is arriving with the Queen's pony this afternoon,
"by which time it is hoped Her Majesty will be in a fit state...
"to consider riding out.
"As to that decision, along with all others,
"we remain, as ever,
"prisoners of the Queen's grief.
Ever your devoted husband, Henry."
Windsor.
Congratulations, Your Royal Highness.
- Boy, I hear. - Yes.
- Excellent. Excellent. - Albert Victor.
"Eddie" for short.
- What do you think? - A fine choice, sir.
Excellent.
How many?
The royal family and senior members of the household, ma'am.
- Just those? - Yes, ma'am.
[Bell Chiming]
[Silverware Clinking]
[Clock Ticking]
[Clearing Throat]
We're expecting Brown this afternoon, ma'am.
Whom?
That's a very pretty shawl you're wearing, Alex. The colour suits you well.
But you're not eating enough.
One must not let vanity overrule one's appetite.
Yes, ma'am.
[Horses Whinnying In Stable]
We were due at a quarter past 1:00. You're late.
Her Majesty's routine at Osborne House is not as you will remember it.
The household remains in full mourning,
and no one is permitted to raise their voice under any circumstance whatsoever.
The Queen breakfasts at 9:30, lunches at 2:00,
takes tea at 5:30 and dinner at 8:45.
No one's allowed to leave the building while the Queen is at home.
On rare occasions when she's out, you may ask permission to leave,
but only with my consent.
You're to be ready to walk the pony at any time after 10:00.
You'll clean the Queen's outdoor things...
and do any odd jobs as and when she requires.
How will I know?
I'm sorry?
- How will I know what the Queen requires? - You'll be sent a message.
- And who will bring it to me? - Her Highness's equerry.
I'll need a man who knows where I am.
- Oh, I don't think it'd be difficult to find you. - That's not good enough.
- Then we'll have to see what can be arranged. - Aye. Do.
As I'm sure you'll remember from Balmoral,
you do not speak while in Her Majesty's presence,
unless Her Majesty addresses you directly.
Mr Brown, ma'am.
Mr Brown is here, ma'am.
- Mr Brown. - Ma'am.
- You're here safely? - Aye, ma'am.
- You are well? - I am.
- And the pony? - She's well too.
Your family sent cards.
It was much appreciated.
I'm glad of it.
My husband was always very complimentary in speaking of you.
He would have approved, I'm sure, of my calling on you in this way.
I trust it does not inconvenience you too much.
I have no family, ma'am. Only my brothers and sisters.
Yes.
You have a brother in service here, do you not?
- I forget his name. - Archie.
Yes.
That will be company for you.
Yes.
[Gasps]
Honest to God, I never thought to see you in such a state.
You must miss him dreadfully.
You do not...
He...
Get him out! Get him out of here!
Get him out! Get him out!
So, the day they arrived,
she greets the sultan and his family with barely a word and retires to her chamber.
Now, the sultan, he's not used to state occasions without a head of state,
and he's standing in the lobby waiting for someone to tell him what to do.
But the court is under strict instructions not to talk in the corridor,
so nobody speaks to him, not a living soul, for the whole afternoon.
So now it's dinner, and everyone's standing around the table, still not a word,
waiting for Her Majesty to arrive.
One hour goes by, two. The sultan is getting a wee bit peckish, to say the least.
Finally, his wee laddie breaks for the cold meats and stuffs a slice in his mouth.
Oh, the uproar when she heard.
- You'd have thought somebody had stolen the crown jewels. - So?
[Sighing] So there are rules. Things you do and don't do.
All I did was tell the woman how I feel, for God's sake.
- You don't tell Her Majesty how you feel. - I speak as I find, Archie.
Not down south you don't.
- So, what did Ponsonby do when she started shouting? - [Slams Drawer Shut]
[Sighing] I thought he nearly ruptured his truss.
Prince Leopold? Now isn't he the one who sits around bleedin' all day?
So what does his valet do? Bring out his bandages for him?
It's better than shovelling horseshit.
Now, if it's promotion you're after,
you should've picked one of the healthier ones.
She's hardly a full hamper herself.
It's only grief that's made her that way.
Three years, John? Is that not a bit long to be grieving?
- She loved him. - Come on, man.
- There's love. Then there's... - What?
- [Pitcher Thuds] - You know what I mean.
I don't think I do, Archie.
There's love, and there's behaving like you do...
because there's nobody to tell you not to.
So, which one of us was she flirtin' with?
The good-looking one.
Obviously doesn't have enough to do.
You work the system right, you could ask her yourself.
Just be thankful you're not working for the household.
The Queen never lets them out of her sight.
But wee spats like us can slip through the net easy.
I'm no wee spat, Archie.
[Laughing]
[Maid] Don't just stare at him.
[Neighing]
Who is that?
- It's Mr Brown, ma'am. - What is he doing there?
He appears to be standing by his horse, ma'am.
I made no request to go out riding today.
How long has he been there?
I don't know, ma'am. He was observed earlier, I believe.
Sir Henry, Mr Brown is standing in the courtyard.
- I've no wish to go riding. - I'm very sorry, ma'am. I can't imagine...
He was certainly given no instructions.
Please make sure it does not happen again.
Of course. At once.
- What on Earth did you think you were doing? - Awaiting my orders.
You do not report for duty unless the Queen requests of it. You know that very well.
I didn't come all this way to sit on my arse.
You'll await your orders like everyone else...
unless you prefer a repeat of yesterday's little excitement.
No.
I beg your pardon?
I thought I made myself perfectly clear.
You do not leave your room until Her Majesty requests it.
You tell Her Majesty from me...
if her husband was here today, he'd have her outta the house...
and gettin' some air into her.
What the hell's the point of me bein' here otherwise?
Go inside at once.
Is that the Queen's request?
Yes. It most certainly is.
[Clicks Tongue]
- [Horse Neighing, Whinnying] - Mr Brown?
Yes, ma'am?
You have been told repeatedly not to stand in the courtyard...
unless requested to do so.
Yes, ma'am.
Then why do you persist in doing it?
Because I believe Her Majesty's wrong.
If ever a poor soul needed some fresh air, it's her.
The Queen will ride out if and when she chooses.
And I intend to be there when she's ready.
Prince Albert was going to build a bench here.
He thought it one of the best views in Osborne.
Aye, it's a fine spot, ma'am.
He thought so, yes.
In everything I do and everything I say,
I try to think as much as possible...
what he would do or say if he were here now.
My private secretary wishes me to return to public duties.
If Prince Albert was here, he'd tell him a thing or two.
Sir Henry's not alone. They all wish it.
The same people who refused to grant my husband the title of "King"...
because he was deemed of insufficient rank.
I have some letters in my saddlebag. I'd like to read them.
I cannot read them like that.
You will hand them to me as I require.
[Chattering]
[Chattering Stops]
Mr Carter, the head butler, sits there.
Not any more he doesn't. This is my place.
- By whose authority? - My own.
The order of seating at the upper servants' table...
is arranged personally by the Queen herself.
Now that's a tautology, lad.
If you say the Queen has arranged something,
there's no need to say she's done it personally.
It's understood.
- [Murmuring] - [Man] Thank you.
And you're the Queen's dresser, I believe.
Assistant, sir. Yes.
- What's your name? - Mary Taylor, sir.
Have I seen you up at Balmoral, Mary?
I hope to go up next year.
Tell me, Mary. What is the Queen reading for recreation these days?
Lord Tennyson, sir.
[Murmuring Stops]
Ah!
Am I the only one eating?
Lord Clarendon arrives by invitation at 11:00,
followed at 12:00 by a picnic on the grounds to celebrate Princess Alice's birthday.
The chancellor writes to say that by happy coincidence,
he will be in Cowes this weekend,
and he asks if Your Majesty might grant him an audience.
Why?
He thought, perhaps, Your Majesty might wish to be informed...
of the latest developments in government.
No, I shall be out walking.
Then, perhaps, Your Majesty might consider it opportune...
if the Prince of Wales were to meet him on your behalf.
On no account.
Mama, I really do think it's time we made ourselves a little more...
[Clears Throat] available.
I think we must accept...
that our position in the country is not entirely unrelated...
to the continued absence of the monarchy from public life.
I thought, perhaps, we might consider a small gesture of some kind.
- Gesture? - I thought a dinner for our ambassadors, perhaps.
No dinners, Bertie. Why are you dressed for outdoors?
- It's so infernally cold in here. - Cold is good.
Is that not so, Dr Jenner?
[Gasping] Uh, I'm sorry, ma'am.
- Cold is good! - Oh, excellent, ma'am. Excellent.
But perhaps if Her Majesty...
were to consider accompanying her newfound physical vigour...
with the benefits of mental activity.
Why am I being lectured in this way?
- Oh, forgive me, Your Majesty. - I will not tolerate anybody lecturing me...
- about the responsibility of monarchy. - Mother.
Least of all my son!
It was his irresponsibility that drove my husband to his grave!
If it is inconvenient to Her Majesty,
then perhaps she might consider allowing the Prince of Wales...
Would you believe they sent me so many boxes to taunt me?
Dr Jenner writes that my nerves are in an extremely fragile state,
and yet they continue to hound me with box after box...
after box after box after box.
[Sighing]
I wish to take the princesses for a swim.
The turns I have been taking in the grounds have proved most beneficial to me,
and Brown thinks saltwater will do me good.
Don't putter, children. Swim!
You could buy that lot for garden ornaments...
and still get change from ten guineas.
Lift your foot, woman!
[Brown] Walk on. [Clicks Tongue]
[Man] This nation is fortunate...
insomuch as it is not governed by force...
but by a chain of traditions...
that have been cherished from generation to generation.
Because in them... in our traditions...
are embodied all the laws that have enabled us to create...
the greatest empire of modern time!
[Cheering]
And even though we have amassed great capital,
and even though we have established an industry...
with no parallel in the world.
Yet all these mighty creations...
are as nothing...
compared to the invisible customs...
which shape our lives.
[Cheering]
To those honourable gentlemen of the opposition that seek to destroy...
the essential elements of this country...
I say, let them remember...
England cannot begin again!
[Shouting]
Have you seen this?
Should we take it seriously?
- The cartoon, or Her Majesty's absenteeism? - Well, both.
The question is: Do we need her?
- Congratulations. - Too kind. Thank you so much. Thank you.
Surely you're not suggesting we dispense with the Constitution?
My dear Stanley, a prime minister with only a handful of friends...
must respect public opinion.
- Congratulations, Prime Minister. - Thank you.
Gossip counts. Lord Aberdeen was right.
This country is not governed by wisdom but by talk.
Oh, granted, it wouldn't take too much...
to winkle the old girl out of mourning,
but if public opinion is against her,
it doesn't do to appear too close.
- So? - We'll see which way the wind blows.
[Whooping]
[Shouting]
My heart's in the Highlands!
My heart is not here!
My heart's in the Highlands, chasing the deer!
One box of biscuits, one box of drop tablets. one box of pralines,
16 chocolate sponges.
It's the same order every week. Does one of them even bother to check it?
The woman's goin' to Balmoral tomorrow...
without the one wee luxury she actually enjoys.
Look, someone'll send it on ahead.
Oh, aye, but will they?
It's not your problem, what she eats, John.
The woman's surrounded by fools.
She's supposed to be packed, dressed and ready...
tomorrow mornin', half past 7:00.
If it's up to any of them, she'll still be gettin' dressed at 8:00.
She's got an army of people to get her up and out.
But I'm the only one she trusts.
She'll blow hot and cold on you, John. She always does.
- You ought to be careful. - I get 90 pounds a year.
Plus another 70 for a pile of old tartan I'd be wearin' anyway.
That's as much as a page of the back stair gets,
and that's a job for toffs.
## [Bagpipes Playing]
I'm Her Majesty's Highland servant!
Indoors and out.
There's no stoppin' me now.
## [Bagpipes Continue]
Oh, God, the pipes.
- What are those? - What?
- Those over there. There. - Ah... [Speaking Scottish]
[Speaking Scottish] How can I possibly say that with a straight face?
I'm thinking of publishing my Highland journals.
- Are they worth readin'? - I'm told so.
- By whom? - Sir Henry Ponsonby tells me they're charming.
What does he know about the Highlands?
He has been attending at Balmoral for many years.
Well, that hardly makes him an expert.
His remarks were directed at the quality of writing, not at subject.
I don't groom a horse to have it admired by others.
I groom it because it needs grooming.
I do not do it for others, but Ponsonby thinks they are good.
Just say what you have to say, woman! What other people think shouldn't matter to you.
Of course I shall say what I have to say. I always do.
Well, if it's a good opinion you're lookin' for,
he's the very man to oblige you.
What Mr Ponsonby was appreciating was their literary merit,
a skill not intimately associated with a knowledge of grooming.
Literary appreciation does not begin and end with Tennyson.
[Sighing]
I mention you in them.
In particular, the occasion when Albert was alive.
The royal carriage overturned during a storm,
and you demonstrated such loyal service...
in returning the Queen and princesses safely to Balmoral.
For friendship.
She'll be gone between 8:00 and 6:00 on Friday...
visiting the Grant family at Glasalt.
In order to make the journey there and back in one day,
she must have no distractions the night before.
She'll take a light supper in her private drawing room and retire early.
She'll need to sign dispatches before she retires.
That can wait until the weekend.
- They're important papers! - It can wait! Anything else?
Are you sure Her Majesty is up to such a long journey?
She's only just recovered from a severe head cold.
If I didn't think she was up to it, I wouldn't let her go, would I?
Surely it is for the gentleman to decide when to stop.
It is a disgusting habit. It should be discouraged.
- Yes, but isn't midnight a little excessive? - It's quite late enough.
But, Mama, the room was built expressly for that purpose.
It has been a smoking room by tradition ever since Father built it.
Brown's responsibilities are onerous enough already.
He has far too much to do during the day without having to stay up all night...
waiting for you to go to bed.
The smoking room will be closed and the lights put out at 12:00.
- Mama. - And that is my last word on the matter.
Well, I'm sorry, but I really do think it's intolerable...
the gentleman of the house should be dictated to by a servant.
It's the Queen's decision.
I beg your pardon? Mama!
I think you should go now. You've tired your mother enough.
[Brown] There's really no need for this, you know.
- I'll not have her seein' it like it is. - It's the last thing she expects.
That's as may be, John, but I just wish she'd warned us she was comin'.
Had she warned ya,
you'd be throwin' water on the fire and hiding knitting under cushions.
- You can't stop a wife from bein' house-proud. - [Chuckling]
- All right, show her in. - Fine.
They're ready for you now, ma'am.
- I hope they didn't go to any trouble, John. - Ah, well.
Ma'am.
Mr Grant, how good it is to see you.
- Your Majesty. - Mrs Grant.
- How's your knee? Has the pain eased a little? - Not so bad, ma'am.
Good.
Oh, and here are Douglas and John.
Haven't you grown?
Growing all the time, ma'am.
- Would you care to sit, ma'am? - Thank you.
I know that.
That's Cairn Lochan.
- We picnicked there once, John, did we not? - Aye, we did, indeed, ma'am.
[Chattering]
Thank you so much.
Ah, the greasy pole.
Don't be facetious, dear. Remember your position.
It's my position I'm thinking of.
I see the Prince of Wales is here.
I hope he's got his mama's permission.
- Oh, Salisbury. - Madam.
Why is the Queen penny-wise and pound foolish?
Because she looks after the Browns...
and lets the sovereigns take care of themselves.
And in your opinion, is she foolish?
- Well... What I mean to say... It's hardly right, is it? - What?
Well, the Queen and Mr Brown.
La superstition met le monde entier en flammes.
I beg your pardon?
Has anyone seen this, uh, Mr Brown?
He is her personal servant, I believe.
He follows her wherever she goes.
He would hardly make a very good personal servant if he did not.
Excuse me.
It's not my best china.
I mean, it is my best china now, but the family set got stolen last summer.
-I'm sorry. -Of course, it was no one on the estate.
More like one of the lads out from Braemar.
Or further even.
I'll fetch the salt.
Mr Disraeli.
- Ma'am. - Your Royal Highness, what a pleasure to see you here.
Have you met Mr Lyle? He's in sugar.
I don't think I've had that pleasure.
Mr Lyle, the fascinating thing...
[Woman Laughing]
No doubt you've heard the rumours.
I take no account of gossip, Your Highness.
My concern is the reputation of the monarchy.
Of course.
I fear the influence he has on her.
The man's word is not to be credited.
He is an arriviste of the very lowest water.
You know, she's having a bust cast of him...
in Nero Marquino marble.
I'd talk to her myself, but she won't listen to me.
She must be persuaded by someone she respects to abandon this...
ridiculous favouritism...
before...
a situation develops.
A situation?
Look, I don't imagine you frequent the republican clubs,
but the fact that neither you nor I are members...
should not blind us to the significance of their existence.
The Tory party has always been our party.
I'm flattered you think so.
I tell you, if we don't stick together on this,
you could very well find yourself first president's opposition.
[Speaking Latin, Indistinct]
Yes. Quite.
I really don't think we can overstate the seriousness of this.
What did he want?
To know when he'll be King.
So Grant and myself are riding over Lochnagar...
on the worst imaginable night.
The rain is coming down in sheets, and all we can think about...
is gettin' home for a wee drink.
Suddenly, through the gloom, Grant sees a couple of poachers,
gives me the shout, and we were off, gallopin' down the hill after them.
We chased them right down to the loch side.
He got there first, leaps off his horse like a man possessed,
grabs the two unfortunate men by the throat against the stack.
He was shoutin'. He was swearin' at the top of his voice.
He looks into the eyes of the smallest one, and he says,
"Why are you poachin' on royal land?"
And the poor wee man looks up at him,
completely terrified and says,
"Because we've come up in the world."
[Brown] Whoa!
Your Majesty, thank goodness you're safe.
I'll have a bath prepared immediately. I recommend MacDonald's African embrocation.
Ah, pipe down, man. The woman's fine.
We stayed a little longer than expected with Mr and Mrs Grant.
- It was most agreeable. - We were expecting you to return by 6:00.
- Now I'm back. - And we had a wee nip of whisky.
- To keep out the cold. - Aye.
Thank you, John.
She's drunk.
Distinct flushing around the cheeks.
She was drunk, I tell you.
No, she wasn't.
- Surely not. - Don't even think it.
## [Fiddlers Playing A Reel]
Pandora's Box.
[Snoring]
## [Bagpipes Playing]
## [Bagpipes Continue]
[Gasping]
Thank you.
- Which one is he? - The tall one.
- Got him? - Aye.
- [Chattering] - [Man] I think it's over here.
What is it, John?
I won't be long.
Where'd he go? I've lost him.
Don't know if there's much worth writing about. Hard to tell.
Is this close enough for you, boys?
Go on! Get out!
Go on! On your way!
- Back where you belong! - Come on!
You filthy scavengers!
Leave her alone! You hear?
If I catch the miserable by-blow...
who told those people the Queen's whereabouts,
I'll cut his balls off and hang them out to dry on Jock Wemyss, so I will.
What happens to John Brown is his business,
but the Queen's security will never be compromised!
- What action... - You'll talk when I'm finished.
That kind of disloyalty will not be tolerated in this house. Is that clear?
- Is that clear? - [All] Yes, Mr Brown.
[Dr Jenner] "Court circular: Balmoral.
"On Tuesday, Mr John Brown attended...
"a display of sheep dipping by local farmers.
"On Wednesday, he attended a seance,
"where he was pleased to listen to a recital of 'Auld Lang Syne'...
"by Mr Robert Burns himself.
"On Thursday, Mr John Brown walked on the slopes,
"accompanied by family and friend.
"At tea, he partook of haggis,
"and in the evening, he attended a recital...
"of bagpipe music through the ages.
After a light supper, Mr John Brown retired early."
If I find you had anything to do with this, I'll have you sacked.
I believe that decision rests with Her Majesty.
Don't think I can't persuade her.
I don't doubt the Queen was highly amused.
She's always had a very healthy sense of humour.
This is a slur on her good name.
Inasmuch as the article is about yourself,
I think you must now accept that the public has a right to its interest in you.
Nobody has rights over me.
We are, all of us, subject to forces...
beyond our control, Mr Brown.
Even you.
You'll regret saying that.
[Chattering]
[Man] Order!
Order! Order! Order!
The results of the vote to the motion to disestablish the Irish Church.
Order!
Ayes to the right: 313.
Nos to the left: 265.
Mr Speaker!
I table a motion in furtherance of the bill...
to disestablish the monarchy!
[Disraeli] We're going to lose.
Gladstone's got his party facing the same way for the first time in years.
We need help.
[Sighing] Where is the old girl?
- Who? - Mrs Brown.
It's questionable whether there's any advantage to be had from that direction.
- She's never been less popular. - Aye, in the press, perhaps,
but she's sold more copies of her Highland journal in three months...
than Punch will ever sell in a year.
- It's time to wheel her out. - She's refusing to leave Balmoral.
Oh, what's the excuse this time?
Princess Louise is too ill to move.
Frankly, the Queen is rather upset about the recent spate of bad publicity.
- You're smiling. - Oh, um, trying to imagine "rather upset."
Forgive me, gentlemen. I'm late.
Not at all, Dean. It's very good of you to spare the time.
- I came as quickly as I could. - You've seen the latest cartoon in Punch, I take it.
I beg your pardon? Oh.
One of our madder brethren in the House was calling for...
the disestablishment of the monarchy.
- Good Lord! - Oh, I'm sure it won't come to that.
It is now a matter for each man's conscience.
I was just telling Lord Stanley how vital it is...
that the nation should feel the visible influence of the sovereign...
as a reminder that Parliament... well, indeed, my own ministry...
depends on the will of the Queen.
I couldn't agree with you more, but I am only Dean of Windsor.
- I don't understand what... - We hear from Balmoral...
that Mr Brown has been interesting Her Majesty...
in some of the forms of worship associated with...
low-church Presbyterian.
What can we do?
Oh, several things.
- Read it. - Again?
Read it!
"The Times wishes to join the rest of Her Majesty's loyal subjects...
"in expressing its deep joy at the news...
that the Queen is soon to come out of mourning."
- Who told them that? - I have no idea.
- Why not? - l... Forgive me, ma'am, I am no wiser than yourself.
No one should think themselves wiser than me!
It is not for any of the Queen's subjects...
to presume to tell Her Majesty when and where she should come out of mourning.
It is the Queen's sorrow that keeps her secluded.
It is her overwhelming amount of work and responsibility...
work that she feels will soon wear her out entirely.
- Your Majesty... - Is it not enough that she is uncheered and unguided...
that she should also have to suffer these malicious rumours?
I am not a fool.
I know there are those in the establishment too afraid to attack me,
so they attack my dearest friends.
Sometimes...
I feel Brown is all I have left of Albert.
And now they attack Brown too.
I will not give him up to them!
[Clock Bells Chiming]
- I wish to see my mother. - She's busy.
- Then convey her a message. - She's away to Windsor tomorrow. Talk to her there.
Tell her the Prince of Wales wishes to speak with her urgently...
about matters concerning the press.
Are you deaf as well as stupid?
What did you say?
I said, "Are you deaf as well as stupid?"
Do you know who you address, sir?
Whom you address.
- Get out of my way! - Why don't you just leave us alone?
[Man] Where do you want this one, sir?
[Chattering]
- You, boy! What's your business here? - Under-porter, sir.
Well, don't stand where you shouldn't.
[Horse Neighing]
[Bell Tolling]
Hey, Barney.
- Mr Brown, sir. - It's a cold one out there tonight, Barney.
Yeah.
Have you looked at this hoof? She was limpin'. I think there might be a stone in it.
- Ye-Yeah, l-I d-did. - Good, man.
- Then she's all right? - Yeah.
Good. She's a good girl.
Aren't ya? Yeah, she's a lovely girl.
- And you know the Queen's riding her tomorrow? - Yeah.
You all right, Barney?
Oh, aye.
Come on. Come on, you.
Come on. Okay. There.
- [Gasping] - [Men Laughing]
[Doors Opening]
Well?
Mr Brown is unable to attend today.
Why?
- I believe he is unwell, ma'am. - Unwell?
I understand he was in a fight.
- Has he been hurt? - I believe not, ma'am.
I understand...
he'd had rather too much to drink.
You may go.
[Gasping] And she sent no word down?
They said you were drunk.
Why don't you tell her the truth?
She'll think it's her fault for keepin' me.
- What the hell are you doing? - I'm getting dressed.
- You've got three broken ribs. - I've got my duties to attend to.
Don't be an idiot. You're in no fit state to go anywhere.
- She'll be worried about me. - She'll get over it.
[Grunting] I can't let her down now, Archie.
And when was the last time she put herself out for you?
Look, John, whatever she says to you now,
in the end, you're a servant.
I am much more than that.
She may say that to you, but the woman can say what she wants, can't she?
- Just watch your tongue! - Come on, man.
I'm tellin' you what you already know.
- You know nothing about her. - When are you gonna see it, John?
She doesn't give a damn about you!
From the Queen.
"My lips me give a message better of Christmas love...
"than e'en this letter.
To my best friend, J.B. From his best friend, V.R."
Best friend!
- Aye. - She means it!
She'll drop you.
When she's done with you, she'll drop you.
- Get out. - [Sighing]
Get out.
Get out!
Out!
[Sir Henry] ...to be followed by a visit from Lady Bridport.
She is keen to secure a place for her niece as maid of honour.
- I'm tired. - Um, there is one other matter.
- What is it? - I have a letter, ma'am.
From whom?
From Princess Helena and other members of the royal family.
My family is quite capable of communicating with the Queen in person.
What do they want?
They are demanding the dismissal of Mr Brown on grounds of drunkenness.
You wish to see me, ma'am?
My husband tried always to make me think more subtly.
Of course, he taught me so much,
and I can never repay my debt to him...
or the love I feel even now.
But in truth,
I think I am someone...
who can only feel things...
when they are alive to me.
And for that reason, I know I do not have a subtle mind.
I know that.
But I work hard, and I...
try to do my duty.
However,
I have noticed of late...
that... my feelings of grief...
are not so strong,
and I find myself leaning...
more...
on the comfort of living friends.
Friends close to me now.
Your Majesty,
a settled resignation...
is more lasting proof of affection...
than active grief.
If the Good Lord sees fit to bring one into contact...
with... congenial fellow beings,
one need not analyze one's reaction too deeply.
To allow oneself to be comforted...
by someone else...
need not imply disloyalty to the memory of the loved one.
Sir Henry?
Please tell the princess and other signatories to this letter...
that the Queen will not be dictated to...
or made to alter in any way...
what she has found to answer for her comfort.
- Do I make myself clear? - Ma'am.
You may go.
I would like to get down.
[Groaning]
I was told you were in a fight.
Yes, ma'am.
Has someone seen to those bruises?
Yes, ma'am.
Ma'am.
Having considered my position here in court,
I have come to the conclusion that in Your Majesty's best interests I should resign.
I do not accept.
I had foreseen that you would not.
But Your Majesty should understand...
that I will not be changed in this.
- I leave for Deeside... - The Queen forbids it.
I cannot allow it...
because I cannot live without you.
Without you, I cannot find the strength...
to be who I must be.
Please.
Promise me you won't let them send me back.
I promise.
[Disraeli] Yesterday, Gladstone talked for three hours...
on the Irish Church bill.
I am as guilty as the rest of underestimating his reforming zeal.
Tory days may be numbered, but I fancy there yet remains...
one last hope of deliverance.
Wheresoever the blame lies, we must now close ranks...
and defend Mrs Brown's England.
As for my interminable journey...
to the land of Calvin, oatcakes and sulphur,
no prime minister made greater sacrifice...
than attempting to run the country...
six hundred miles north of civilization.
## [Singing]
# Embracing... ## How dare the Irish break with the Anglicans!
If Albert were alive today, he would never allow the crown to give up church patronage.
No.
The Irish must be told very firmly to stay exactly where they are.
It's the thin end of the wedge, Mr Disraeli.
Next you will be telling me that the crown no longer governs this nation.
Your Majesty remains at the very epicentre of governance.
As for your people, look no further than the sales...
of your Highland journals...
to see in what affection the nation holds their Queen.
Why, you sell even more copies than Mr Dickens.
But I lack your prose, Mr Disraeli.
Oh.
Of course, I understand your concern.
You miss your people, and they miss you.
- Then they may read about me. - Indeed.
And for that, they are eternally grateful.
- Is that not enough? - In so many ways.
And yet, it is...
your presence they crave.
A figurehead.
I never thought to be bullied by you, Mr Disraeli.
You, I thought, understood a widow's grief.
Forgive me, ma'am.
I cannot speak for the nation, only for myself.
As prime minister, I confess I miss your presence.
But that is an expression of my own selfish desires,
and I should not burden you with it.
I stay here because I am happy.
Is that such a terrible crime?
No, ma'am.
Time for your walk.
- This is my good John Brown. - Yes.
I've asked him to show you a little of Highland life...
while you're with us at Balmoral.
What brings you here?
A man can refuse only so many invitations from his Queen.
It was remiss of me not to come earlier.
And what do you know of the Highlands?
[Chuckles] I am a blank sheet.
- Do you hunt? - Mmm, occasionally.
Daresay we could have you taught.
To shoot, perhaps, but not to kill.
If you hunt, you hunt to kill.
Well, then, I'll do my best.
[Thunder Rumbling]
Always remember, keep it very tight to your shoulder,
absorb the kick with your body,
aim for the head... bang!
Imagine it's Gladstone.
Yes, quite.
[Grunting, Sniffling]
Thank you.
- Back door, west wing? - Checked and locked, sir.
- Side door, west wing? - Checked and locked, sir.
- Front door, west wing? - Checked and locked, sir.
- Side door, east wing? - Checked and locked...
- Louder, girl! - Checked and locked, sir.
- Kitchen, lower house? - Checked and locked. Sir.
- Back and upper corridors? - Checked and locked, sir.
Front door. Checked and locked.
Did you see any Irish assassins today, Mr Brown?
We heard the ponies were Fenian sympathizers.
Or was it the stag?
There's not a soul in here...
who cares about that wee woman's safety except me!
She would be dead in a ditch...
if I wasn't here to look out for her!
- You hear that? - [Laughing]
[Groaning]
[Thunderclap]
What's this?
It's a diary.
- Be careful who sees it. - What do you take me for?
- You should have someone look at ya. - I'm all right.
Just need to rest up a wee while.
[Groaning]
Oh.
You don't need to stay.
The place is a mess.
[Brown Moans] Can't move to tidy.
- That's what the maids are for. - I don't need some prattler goin' through my things.
Why don't ya give yourself a rest, John?
She's other people to look out for her.
She needs me, Archie.
Can't do without me. Told me to my face.
[Inhaling]
[Exhaling] How can I stop now?
[Gasping]
- You sent for me? - I've been called back to London.
My last day.
I thought I might take a walk up Lochnagar.
[Disraeli] "Princes and lords are but the breath of kings.
A honest man's the noblest work of God."
You must miss such magnificent views.
I don't think about it.
Oh. Forgive me.
I've called you out, and you should have been resting.
- I'm fine. - But you are injured.
- It's nothin'. - Still, someone must attend to it.
- Your wife should not have let you out. - I'm not married.
Oh.
- [Grunting] - This is the top.
[Sighing]
I confess I sometimes feel as if I'm not married myself.
I see my wife so little.
But I'm forgetting the rewards.
The look on their faces when one walks into a room...
still gives one a ridiculous thrill.
- Well, I wouldn't know. - Oh, surely.
What I do, I do for my Queen.
Was there never ambition?
Maybe, once.
Oh. I envy you.
- Why? - Oh, to have achieved one's ambition...
or to have reconciled oneself to its limits...
is a lifetime's work.
- I do what I do. - For Her Majesty.
- Aye. - But yourself? What about John Brown?
I told ya. I serve my Queen.
And no other aspiration?
To see her safe.
You will not be unaware...
of the threat now posed by the republicanism?
Why do you think I've kept her here?
Ah, but therein lies the paradox.
It is her very isolation that encourages the malcontents.
The longer she is away, the stronger they become,
and who, honestly, can provide security against that?
However many doors you lock,
someone will always get in.
Even here.
So?
The truth is, the Queen would be safer...
doing her duty and returning south to her public.
John Bull loves her, and John Bull is her best defence.
Her mind is set. You'll never change it now.
She trusts you, John.
[Sighing]
They don't see it.
See what?
The danger. I keep tellin' them, but they don't see it.
- They're not as watchful as you. - They're too busy thinking about themselves.
A greasy pole.
- No loyalty. - No, um,
Iove.
I promised to protect her... from people like you.
[Chuckling] For once in my life, I'm not the issue.
- She'll never understand it. - Oh, in time she will.
She'll think I've betrayed her.
But others will know that you acted for the greater good.
I received a letter today from Mr Disraeli.
Parliament are calling for my return to public duties.
He insists the country expects me to preside...
over the opening of the new session.
I refuse to offer sustenance to enable his weakening grip.
Besides, you know how much I would hate it.
It frightens me.
John?
We can't always have what we wish.
"Duty"? You talk about "duty"?
When duty and safety are served by the same ends, then, aye, I do!
I cannot believe you're saying this. You who I've relied on all this time?
- Have I ever lied before? - You stand there and tell me it is my duty!
- After all you promised me? - I've broken no promise!
You're forcing me to do the very thing you know I'd fear most.
For God's sake, woman, I'm tryin' to see you safe!
I will not hear any more about my safety!
You made me a promise, and now you've broken it!
When I took you out riding, come rain or shine,
because I knew it was right for you,
when I got the bairns off your back just to give you a bit o' peace,
when I saw you safe from home to home when you didn't even know if I was there,
all I ever thought about was you!
- Then why send me back to them? - Because I have to!
Will you not listen to me, woman?
Do not presume to talk to your Queen in that manner.
Dr Jenner, I feel unwell.
I shall retire to my chamber.
- Please attend me presently. - Ma'am.
[All] Ma'am.
May I say how glad I am to see Your Majesty so much recovered.
Where is my son?
Prince Albert is at Windsor, ma'am.
Why is he not here?
- He is sick, ma'am. - Then why are you not with him?
You ordered all members of the royal family to attend you at Balmoral.
What's the matter with him?
He has typhoid fever, ma'am.
No. You are mistaken.
Prince Albert, my husband, had typhoid fever.
I asked what was wrong with my son.
The same, Your Majesty.
Why was I not informed?
I did not consider it wise in the circumstances...
to tax your nerves.
How ill is he?
Alex?
He is not well, ma'am.
I must go to him. We must leave at once.
[Chattering]
[Watch Ticking]
Better.
If the Good Lord should see fit to spare my son,
I will order a Mass to be celebrated at St. George's.
The people must share with their Queen...
her prayers and hopes for their future King.
The Queen will be riding to St. George's on the 5th.
I recommend Her Majesty use a covered carriage and a full horse guard.
In the event of any disturbance, I will insure...
I will ride to St. George's in an open carriage.
It is time the Queen was seen by her public.
[People Cheering]
[Cheering]
No!
[Albert] And so there he is, Arthur O'Conner,
all seven stone of the man, paddling madly towards us through a sea of horse guards,
waving something that looks vaguely like a pen!
- [Laughing] - I thought he must be one of Mother's ardent readership...
in search of the royal indenture.
[Laughter]
I believe I saw him first, and then I alerted Brown.
I'm not convinced that he wasn't taking a snooze on top of the steps.
- [Laughing] - So we had our man pinned down,
and I must say that Brown acquitted himself admirably.
Of course, the gun turned out to be a fake,
but, uh, well, you know, nonetheless it was, um... [Clears Throat]
- Yes, um, well done. - [Guests Murmur In Agreement]
I intend Brown to be rewarded with a special medal cast in gold.
It will be called the "Devoted Service Medal."
- [Albert] Mm. - [Applause]
[Clinking]
A toast.
[Albert] Victoria Regina!
[Guests] Victoria Regina!
I saw your face there as well, Sir Henry.
I think that you were sneaking a bit behind the carriage.
[Albert Continues Talking, Indistinct]
[Guests Talking, Laughing]
[Disraeli] The people of England have expressed,
in a manner which cannot be mistaken,
that they will uphold the ancient monarchy of England.
Go to your homes. Teach them these truths.
A land of liberty, of prosperity...
of power...
and of glory!
[Cheering]
[Brown] We should not live in expectation of contentment.
Fifteen years of vigilance will not guarantee peace of mind.
Yesterday, intruders were again reported in the south wing.
I believe my prompt arrival may have averted any crisis,
but it was a timely reminder.
It is a great comfort to me that my efforts...
in securing the Queen's safety over the years have not been in vain.
Certainly Her Majesty sends me no word that she is dissatisfied,
and I feel sure that if she were unhappy,
she would have found the occasion to speak to me in person,
- [Clattering] - as she has so often done in the past.
- [Knocking] - What is it?
[Man] North woods, sir!
[Thunderclap]
God save the Queen!
[Gunshot Echoing]
How long has he been this sick?
A few days, ma'am.
Why was I not told earlier?
[Knocking]
You should never have gone out in such foul weather.
Someone has to look after ya.
It could have been someone.
It was before.
Yes. Yes, it was.
My ministers are as impertinent as ever.
Dispatches so numerous they come in a trunk.
Sometimes, I do believe, they will never stop.
Endless letters.
I know I've not always been...
the loyal friend that you deserve, John.
And here, even now, I'm...
feeling desperate with the thought of losing you.
Don't be silly, woman.
[Gasping]
[Water Splashing]
[Sniffling]
Not too near.
[Sobbing]
[Dr Jenner] Cause of death was pneumonia.
[Sir Henry] Not too protracted, I hope.
A few days.
When he heard, the Prince of Wales...
threw the bust over the wall of the north tower.
Took four hours to gather the fragments.
Queen wishes to publish an account of him.
Dear, oh, dear.
- We think she can be dissuaded. - Hmm.
Have you had a glance at the diary?
- Yes. - Quite.
I think I best take it back.
Oh, of course.
Where did you find it, by the way?
Oh, some young page was boasting about having seen it.
- Lucky. - [Chuckles]
Well, no rest for the wicked, Henry.
No. Indeed.