[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 rema 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 g 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 achieve 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.