In the book, The Age of Scandal by T.H. White a whole chapter was devoted to Richmond resident and gentleman of high society George Selwyn entitled ‘The Necrophilist’. He gained his nick-name due to his macabre fascination with death, torture and execution. Although he spent 44 years in the House of Commons he never made a speech.
Nick Selwyn, in a talk to the Richmond Local History Society in 2009 had this to say
He enjoyed his frequent visits to the Tyburn Gallows near the spot where Marble Arch is today and according to Horace Walpole witnessed the executions at Tower Hill of the great highland Jacobite Earls after Bonnie Prince Charlie’s failed invasion of England in 1745. Lord Holland on his deathbed told the servant “The next time Selwyn calls, show him up: if I am alive I will be pleased to see him, and if I am dead he will be pleased to see me!” George often attended the infamous Hell-Fire club at Medmenham Abbey near Henley- on-Thames, where the more depraved members of society indulged inSatanic rituals and Witchcraft
The full story of George Selwyn really merits a separate treatment of its own, so I will conclude with a reference to his close and life-long friendships with two important Richmond residents, namely William Douglas, Earl of March, the 4th Duke of Queensberry one of the richest and most debauched men in England and Horace Walpole. The Duke owned an imposing mansion overlooking the Thames, on the spot where the Queensberry mansions block of flats is today along Friars Lane, just off the Green. He enjoyed the nickname Old Q as this letter was prominently displayed on the doors of his carriage.
According to Wikipedia
He was known for his fascination with the macabre and other forms of sexual eccentricity.
According to Rogues Gallery Online
There are unsavory rumours about his visits to undertakers and what he gets up to with the bodies but nothing has been proved.
William “Kitty” Courtenay (1768 – 1835) was the 9th Earl of Devon.
As a youth, Kitty was regarded by contemporaries as being the most beautiful boy in England.
Beckford was believed to have conducted a simultaneous affair with his cousin Peter’s wife Louisa Pitt (c.1755–1791).
When Kitty reached the age of 18, Beckford fell out with Kitty and “horsewhipped him”.
But Kitty’s uncle went with the story to the newspapers.
Kitty “was forced to live abroad, and lived in the United States where he owned a property on the Hudson River in New York, and later in Paris”.
Beckford, who had married Lady Margaret Gordon, a daughter of the fourth Earl of Aboyne, moved to the continent of Europe “in the company of his long-suffering wife (who died in childbirth aged 24)” .
“By the time Beckford died at the venerable age of 84, he had built the loftiest domestic residence in the world, had assembled a virtual harem of boys, and had his own militia to protect his Fonthill estate of 6,000 acres.”
Kitty Marie Fischer (1741 – 1767), an attractive teenager, was “introduced to London high life” by the top people who had sex with her.
King James I was the typical monarch and had various young lads as male lovers.
Esmé Stuart, Earl of Lennox
George Gordon, sixth Earl of Huntley
Alexander Lindsay, Lord Spynie
Francis Stewart Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell
George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham
James Hay, 1st Earl of Carlisle
Robert Carr, Earl of Somerset
Lord Laidlaw is a top Scottish Conservative.According to The News Of The World, 27 April 2008, Lord Laidlaw “regularly flies hookers out to Monte Carlo for cocaine-fuelled bondage romps”.
Reportedly there have been “all-night orgies of spanking, bondage and lesbian lust”.
Reportedly a male gigolo joined Laidlaw “in Monte Carlo’s luxurious Hermitage Hotel for an anything-goes night of shame”.
Reportedly, Laidlaw “liked to watch the male model, called Ben.”
According to the News Of The World, one of the Madams that Laidlaw does business with is called Sara.
She helps run London escort agency Role Models.”Sara has a string of international models plus well-known British actresses and TV presenters on her books, secretly working as part-time escorts,” writes The News Of The World.”
Sara said Laidlaw “liked her to send a selection of men over to see him”.
Laidlaw was one of the donors to the Conservative Party who were questioned by police investigating ‘cash for peerages” claims.
Reportedly, Laidlaw and wife Christine have a £4 million vineyard near St Tropez, a £3million apartment in Monte Carlo, a £10 million estate near Cape Town, South Africa, a £2million home in London’s Eaton Square, a Scottish mansion called The Royal Palace, and a £14million stately home in Hampshire.
Lord Sewal (above) is linked to the Dunblane school shootings.
The UK’s House of Lords is associated with men who wear bras, heroin smugglers and child abusers.
Famous Lords who have been linked to ‘scandals’ include Lord McAlpine, Lord Janner, Lord Brittan, Lord Boothby, Lord Robertson, Lord Tonypandy aka George Thomas, Lord Browne, Lord Kenyon, Lord Mountbatten, Lord Mandelson, Lord Michael Havers, Lord Bramall, Lord Astor, Lord Alfred Douglas and Lord Rosebery.
And, “we can’t forget Lord Lambton, Lord Jellicoe and Lord Arthur Somerset.”
Lord Alexander Victor Montagu (above), the late Earl of Sandwich, regularly had sex with his son Robert Montagu and with around 20 other young kids.
The sexual abuse of Robert Montagu began at the age of seven.
Robert Montagu has written about his experience in a memoir entitled A Humour Of Love, to be published by Quartet on 2 September 2014.
Lord Kagan (above) claimed to have had 40 mistresses by the age of 60.The seven deadliest sinners in the House of Lords.
He was on friendly terms with the station chief of the Russian KGB.
After being questioned by the police about tax and currency offences he eventually ‘fled’ to Israel.
Lord Aberdeen wrote an account of his experiences in the brothels of Beirut, London and Paris.
At Mme Jannette’s in Beirut, Lord Aberdeen met Olga, “the sort of attractive girl you could meet at a point-to-point in Gloucestershire”.
At Mrs Fetherstonehaugh’s in Knightsbridge, one Coldstream Guards officer allegedly discovered that “the girl assigned to him was his own sister”.
“He offered an American male stripper $6,000 for a sexual liaison, but in the event he had been too debilitated by drugs to go through with it.”The seven deadliest sinners in the House of Lords.
The 3rd Earl of Bristol had sex with a dozen Portuguese nuns.
Lord Tony Moynihan (above) was a brothel-keeper and drug-smuggler.
By 1970 he faced 57 charges.
“I knew of my impending arrest 48 hours in advance,” he said.
“I’d been approached by a CID man who told me that for £50,000 the case against me would be dropped. Because I believe in God and England I told him to get stuffed.”
In 1968 he married a Filipino and ran a chain of brothels in Manila.
In 1980, an Australian Royal Commission linked him to the import of heroin from Manila.
He was befriended by the UK police and by the American Drugs Enforcement Agency who used him to put a drugs dealer called Howard Marks out of business.
Moynihan then continued to make money from his brothels.
Birr Castle.The Earls of Rosse have links to the Hellfire Club.According to Brian Clarke:
Birr Castle is the home of the 7th Earl of Rosse, who is Lord Snowden’s stepbrother.
(Lord Snowden is Princess Margaret’s estranged husband)The castle was built in the 1600’s and the 1st Earl of Rosse, Richard Parsons was one of the founder members of Irelands aristocratic Satanic cult, The Hellfire Club…
The Rocket Man Jack Parsons, related to the Birr family, was an associate of Aleister Crowley…
Lord Milo Douglas (1975-2009), second in line to the title of Marquess of Queensberry, died suddenly at the age of 34.
Milo’s sister Carrie Carey married two of Osama Bin Laden’s brothers – Salem Bin Laden, and after Salem died in an air crash in 1988, Khaled bin Laden.
Colin Christopher Paget Tennant, 3rd Baron Glenconner (1926- 1910) left his fortune to Kent Adonai, his beloved West Indian manservant.(Glenconner fortune left to servant)Lord Glenconner owned Mustique.
“Rumours leaked out of decadent revels on the three-and-a-half-mile-square jewel of the archipelago of St Vincent and the Grenadines.
“Boys wearing little except coconut oil were said to have entertained guests at one party.”
GlenconnerPeople with villas on Mustique have included Bill Gates, Prince William, Princess Margaret and Mick Jagger.
Visitors to Mustique have included Michael Douglas, David Bowie, Prince Andrew, Viscount Linley, the Earl of Lichfield, Jemima Khan, various Guinnesses, John Cleese and Sir David Frost.”
On Mustique, “one underworld character – the late John Bindon – was said to have entertained the delighted Princess Margaret with his particular party trick, which consisted of balancing an empty upside-down beer mug on a certain part of his anatomy.”
Lord Glenconner eventually sold his home on Mustique, the Great House, to Christina Onassis’s third husband, former KGB agent Sergei Kauzov.
Glenconner had an unusual necklace.”Human bone set by Bond Street jeweller Bulgari.”(Lord Glenconner.)
In 1996, Lord Glenconner’s eldest son Charlie, died from hepatitis, after a long heroin addiction.
In 1990, Lord Glenconner’s second son Henry, who married but later revealed he was gay, died of an Aids-related illness.
In 1987, Lord Glenconner’s youngest son Christopher was in a coma for 100 days following a motor-bike accident in Belize.
(Lord Glenconner: – Express.co.uk)The Glenconner family firm, C Tennant & Sons, was once the largest chemical company in the world and the forerunner of ICI.
Lord Vivian and Mavis WheelerLord Anthony Vivian, in 1954, was shot and wounded by Mavis Wheeler, the former wife of Sir Mortimer Wheeler and the former mistress of Augustus John.Not long before being shot he had been arrested for being ‘drunk and indecent’ at South Eaton Place.
Rudolf HessThe 8th Duke of Buccleuch and Prince George, Duke of Kent, were allegedly involved in a plot with Rudolf Hess and MI6.
In 1941 there was a large ‘peace party’ in Britain which included the Duke of Buccleuch, members of the security services and members of the Royal Family.
Some members of the ‘peace party’ admired the Nazis.
Hess flew to Scotland in 1941 reportedly with Hitler’s blessing.
Hess was to meet with a faction of British royalty and the aristocracy who wanted to arrange peace between Britain and Nazi Germany.
Hess is reported to have landed at the Duke of Hamilton’s home at Dungavel House.
14th Duke of Hamilton
According to one account, ‘two Czech Hurricane pilots who intercepted a lone Messerschmitt heading towards the’Firth of Clyde on the evening of May 10 were told not to attack it…
‘A member of the Womens Auxiliary air Force, stationed that night at Dungavel House, remembers the landing lights on the Duke’s private airstrip being on, shortly before Hess’s plane crashed, despite blackout regulations.’
The Duke of Kent was said to have been at Dungavel, waiting for Hess. The Duke of Kent was involved in a motoring accident with a coal lorry the next morning not far from Dungavel House. His passenger was the Duke of Buccleuch, ‘well known for his anti-war, pro-German sentiments prior to 1939’.
Churchill and his faction got to Hess first when his plane landed and locked him up, even though Hess had been guaranteed safe passage by King George VI.
It is possible that the Duke of Kent rescued Hess and tried to fly to Sweden to continue secret peace negotiations.
Hess may have died in the plane crash. The plane crash may not have been accidental.
The Duke of Buccleuch was put under virtual “house arrest” for the remainder of the war.
Clive Prince writes: ‘Churchill was in a very, very insecure position politically in May 1941. In fact, three days before Hess arrived, there had been a vote of no-confidence in Churchill.
He didn’t have the support of the aristocracy or the support of MI6 and the King. But the Hess affair basically gave Churchill the opportunity to blackmail his opponents who were involved with the Hess flight into supporting him…
“We’re certain that MI6 was totally involved in the Hess affair – they weren’t luring him over: they were inviting him over. This was because MI6 were supportive of the idea of ending the War with Germany.”
Wilde and Lord Alfred DouglasViscount Drumlanrig reportedly had a gay affair with the Prime Minister, the Earl of Rosebery.
The Secret Life of Oscar Wilde, by Neil McKenna, suggests that Rosebery had a relationship for over two years with Viscount Drumlanrig, the older brother of Oscar Wilde’s lover, Lord Alfred Douglas.
McKenna says “Oscar was sacrificed to save Rosebery and the Liberals.”
James Douglas, 2nd Duke of Queensberry was very influential in bringing about the Treaty of Union in 1707.The same evening the 2nd Duke was signing the Act of Union, his son,the Earl of Drumlanrig, is said to have roasted a servant boy on a spit in an oven in the kitchens of his house in Edinburgh.
FIELD MARSHALL BRAMALL; VISHAL MEHROTRA; MICHAEL COLVIN; ADRIAN JOHNS; DEREK LAUD; ESTHER RANTZEN, GORDON RIDEOUT…
Here we see Lieutenant Edwin Bramall receiving his MC from Field Marshal Montgomery in 1945.
Reportedly Slim molested boys at the Fairbridge Farm School, in Australia.
In testimony to Australia’s royal commission into child abuse, one former victim, Bob Stevens, says Viscount Slim arrived at the school and ‘the next minute we were sitting on his knee and he’s got his hands up our trousers’.
65 ‘victims of abuse’ have taken action against Fairbridge Farm School, of which Viscount Slim was patron.
Field Marshal Horatio Kitchener (above) was reportedly a pedophile.Kitchener
The UK monarchy is ‘totally discredited’ by its New Year Honours?
The Queen is giving honours to:
1. Sir David Manning, who arranged the secret deal that got the UK into the Iraq war.
2. Fiona Woolf who was in charge of the child abuse ‘cover-up’, until it was discovered that she was a friend of Leon Brittan.
3. Cressida Dick, the policewoman in charge when the innocent Jean Charles de Menezes was shot dead in a ‘false flag’ operation.
4. Dave Ward and Patrick Hallgate, two executives of the disastrously managed Network Rail.
5. Esther Rantzen, the friend of Jimmy Savile.
Read more: http://www.dailymail.
Children are currently being groomed in “every town” in Britain, according to a charity, Against Child Sexual Exploitation (Pace).
The UN Security Council has failed to adopt the resolution calling for the creation of a Palestinian state and an end to Israeli occupation.
It was in the attic of an old English farmhouse, on a lovely autumn evening in September 1984, that this book had its beginnings. Two years earlier Caroline Kennedy, doing some research for a television film, had arrived at this same house to interview the owner, Pelham Pound. As they talked she found out he was an old friend of her late brother-in-law, Dominick Elwes.
Later in the day the discussion turned to Elwes’s friendship with Dr Stephen Ward, the society osteopath, who had committed suicide at the height of the Profumo scandal in 1963. Elwes, her host said, had stood bail for Stephen Ward, had worked with him on a proposed television programme about his life and had produced a film entitled, The Christine Keeler Story. In a trunk in his attic, Pound explained, he had tape recordings and scripts that Elwes had given him years ago. Would she be interested in taking a look some time? Caroline Kennedy was intrigued. Like nearly everyone else she remembered the Profumo scandal but only faintly remembered Ward.
So, on her return visit that autumn evening, after riffling through the contents of the trunk, she returned home with a box full of old letters, voluminous pages of handwritten and typed filmscript and reels of tape. She immediately transferred the tapes on to cassettes and, through the scratchy quality of the 1960s’ recordings, emerged Ward’s compelling voice:
“This whole business developed so gradually that the increasing horror of my situation did not become apparent to me for some time. Everyone is lying to grind his own axe. Every witness who does not give the answer the police want is tampered with. Every person who goes abroad has fled. Every person who speaks for me does so from fear. Every motive I had is twisted. All I have left between me and my destruction is a handful of firm friends, the integrity of the judge and the 12 men on the jury. God alone knows what will happen. I know that one day the truth will eventually come out. And the truth is very simple: I loved people – of all types – and I don’t think that there are very many people the worse for having known me. This is the whole story.”
Caroline Kennedy listened to Ward with absolute fascination. ‘Only a week earlier I’d heard Lord Denning on TV saying that Ward was “the most evil man” he had ever met. Ward hardly sounded like an evil man to me. He was rational, intelligent, persuasive. I knew as little about Ward as the next person but I began to wonder. Had we got him wrong? I decided to try to find out.’ In many ways it was an ideal time to take another look at Ward and the Profumo affair. Enough time had passed for the passions and divisions it had aroused to quieten. Many of those involved were still alive and perhaps ready now to reveal matters that at the time had been concealed.
Until I joined her in the spring of I985, Caroline Kennedy had worked alone, becoming more and more involved in Ward’s life, often travelling hundreds of miles in a day in the hope of finding one elusive fragment, or to check one significant anecdote. But the information she had gathered about Ward’s relationship with the British Security Service, M15, made her realise that she would need the help of someone more experienced in this field. My one doubt about the project – that it would be unfair to turn the spotlight on Profumo yet again – yielded to her argument that the story would concentrate on Ward, not Profumo.
We were determined to write the definitive book on the subject and our quest for the truth took us all over Britain, to Europe and to the United States. In the end, the raw research broke down into four major areas: Ward’s own tape-recorded words; interviews with some 80 of his friends and enemies; a folio of FBI documents obtained under the American Freedom of Information Act; and our own interpretation and analysis of all this new information.
Ward’s tape recordings were more extensive than we at first realised. In them he spoke frankly of his early life, his first sexual experiences, his student days in the United States, his wartime service in Britain and India, his early struggles in a London just coming out of its post-war gloom, his ambition, and his steady climb to success both as an osteopath and as an artist. We get his story of his recruitment into M15, his version of his relationship with Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice-Davies and his account of his close friendship with Lord Astor. Finally we hear Ward’s devastatingly accurate assessment of why he was framed.
The interviews proved the most difficult part of the research. At first those people who had known Ward were wary. We had to assure them that we had no preconceived view and were determined to produce a rounded picture of an obviously very complex character. Slowly doors opened. In the end we knew the versions of every major participant in the drama who is still alive (except Profumo). Many had never spoken before.
Ward’s friends and enemies, the latter including Lord Denning and Michael Eddowes, Ward’s legal team, FBI informers, the CIA officer in charge of the case in London, nearly every member of the Astor family, Douglas Fairbanks Jnr, various MPs involved in the affair, and, most important, those members of the police team handling the Ward case, agreed to tell their stories. Most spoke directly to us. One or two, for personal reasons, preferred to talk through intermediaries.
Two policemen in particular, conscience-stricken over what had happened, spoke for the first time on record of what the police were told to do, how they did it, and how they felt when Ward killed himself. M15 officers, now retired, revealed exactly how the service recruited Ward, what it wanted him to do, how he did it, and how it was decided to dump him when the service’s links with him threatened to become too embarrassing. One officer says that M15 should have revealed Ward’s role – ‘if we had he might be alive today’ – but it was decided to cover up.
An American who had close links at that time with the United States Embassy held back a vital piece of information from us until he had read the first draft of the manuscript. Then he gave evidence that the Prime Minister, Harold Macmillan, had been told of Profumo’s involvement with Christine Keeler two months before Profumo made his statement to the House of Commons denying any impropriety. This gave the political part of the affair an entirely new significance.
It will be impossible for anyone ever to duplicate this research because several of the major characters have since died, and others, for various reasons, have retreated into silence again. Sir David Tudor-Price, who as a junior barrister was the defence number two in the Ward trial, braved the Lord Chancellor’s ire by agreeing to an on-the-record interview in which he was highly critical of the way the legal establishment had handled the case. He died suddenly only a few months after his elevation to the High Court.
Although we knew that we risked an action against us for contempt of court, we were able to locate and interview one of the Ward jurors who told us, on the promise of anonymity, what had gone on in the jury room. He revealed why the jury had decided to convict Ward, even though the jurors were very impressed by him. We found and interviewed a senior civil servant who attended a meeting of Ward’s friends at which it was decided that no one would give evidence on Ward’s behalf. We persuaded Astor’s brother, David, to tell us why Astor himself had decided to abandon Ward.
Because a lot of people were now prepared to talk, we were able to identify some of those participants who had mysteriously escaped publicity at the trial. Mandy Rice-Davies’s lover, the ‘Indian doctor’, who was not even called as a witness, turns out to have been Dr Emil Savundra, later to be notorious because of the Fire Auto and Marine insurance case which cost Britain’s motorists hundreds of thousands of pounds. Christine’s lover, ‘Charles’, also avoided the spotlight because Christine swore on oath that she could not remember his surname. We discovered that he was the millionaire businessman Charles Clore.
The role of Dr Teddy Sugden, the well-known society abortionist of the period, took some unravelling but we eventually established his relationship with Christine Keeler and Stephen Ward. The part that the famous Murray’s Club, with its beautiful ‘showgirls’, played in the affair puzzled us until some of the club’s former employees and some of its distinguished former members explained it all.
After many hours in the FBI library in Washington, we finally obtained an FBI secret file. This consisted of about 800 heavily censored pages headed ‘Profumo-Keeler, Russian Intelligence’ and, later, ‘Operation Bowtie’. This material enabled us to learn the reason for the panic in the United States over the Profumo affair, to explain why the head of the FBI, J. Edgar Hoover, was so obsessed with it, and why the Kennedy family, particularly Attorney-General Robert Kennedy, was so worried.
New information about the way Ward’s trial was conducted and new interpretation of the part played by Lord Justice Parker and the Court of Criminal Appeal made it crystal clear that the British legal establishment did everything in its power to make certain that Ward would be convicted. This is a serious charge to make, so to give it weight we interviewed some of the leading jurists of the period who gave us, for the first time, their opinion of what was done to Ward. One, a High Court Judge, was unable to talk about the case, even so many years later, without bitterness and anger, while Lord Goodman had no hesitation in describing Ward as ‘the historic victim of an historic injustice’, likening him to ‘a British Dreyfus’.
When we got down to interpreting the research material, the motives of the major characters began to emerge with frightening clarity. We learnt why Labour MP George Wigg was out to get Profumo; why John Lewis, another Labour MP, was determined to ruin Ward; why the police set out to frame Lucky Gordon; why Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice-Davies told the stories they did; and why the legal establishment put its weight behind the move to send Ward away for a long time.
We were able to see what part Ward and the Russian GRU officer, Yevgeny “Eugene” Ivanov, played during the Cuban missile crisis when the super powers took the world to the brink of atomic war. What at the time was considered to be one of Ward’s fantasies turned out to have been true. This added a whole new dimension to Ward’s life and the espionage section of the book became a major one.
In the course of our interviews, we learnt how the principal characters have come to terms with that traumatic period of their lives, how they have coped – or have failed to cope – with what the scandal did to them. Some have achieved fame and fortune; others have gone under with scarcely a ripple. Some have difficulty even recalling what occurred; others relive it day by day. One continues to live in the same area and to follow the same profession. Another went into exile abroad, disgusted that in Britain Ward could have been treated in the way that he was.
When we pulled all these threads together we found that we had an entirely new account of the Profumo affair. It is a story of sexual compulsion, political malice, jealousy, envy and hate. It is a story of friendship, loyalty, honour, betrayal, and the forces of the State bent upon the destruction of one abandoned individual, the only one to leave the scene with dignity. In the end it is our hope that this book says something for Stephen Ward: it may not be too late for the truth.
“HOW THE ENGLISH ESTABLISHMENT FRAMED STEPHEN WARD”
This book was first published in 1987 by Jonathan Cape and Atheneum, under the title:
“An Affair of State – The Profumo Case and The Framing of Stephen Ward”.
As the musical ‘Stephen Ward’ opens tonight, a new book makes a strong case that the osteopath at the centre of the Profumo Affair was murdered
There is a poignant photograph of Stephen Ward, eyes closed, head lolling to one side as he is stretchered into an ambulance for his last journey. It is the morning of July 31 1963 and the Establishment can breathe a little easier.
Ward, society osteopath, supplier of sensual pleasure to the upper classes, is in a coma induced by an overdose of sleeping pills. Taken from his temporary refuge, the Chelsea flat of an acquaintance, to St Stephen’s Hospital in central London, he hovers between life and death. As he does so, a jury at the Old Bailey convicts him of living off immoral earnings – the conclusion of a sensational trial that has witnessed evidence from, among others, his protégées Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice-Davies, good-time girls he has fashioned into suitable consorts for his influential friends. As far as the world is concerned, Ward, son of a vicar and product of a minor public school, has spared himself the final humiliation of being branded a pimp. Without regaining consciousness, he succumbs to barbiturate poisoning on August 3.
The end of the affair: good-time girl Chistine Keeler in 1963 (Popperfoto/Getty Images)
On this final day, outside the hospital, standing with a hungry press, waits Stanley Rytter, a Polish émigré, and his daughter, Yvonne. “Someone came to us and said, ‘That’s it. He’s dead’,” she later recalled. “Then we drove away.”
The Profumo Affair, which took its name from the Conservative minister John Profumo, one of its key casualties, is the scandal against which all others are measured. Fifty years later, it continues to fascinate, a heady mix of power, class, espionage, hypocrisy and sex.
Tonight, 50 years after his death, Stephen Ward returns to the public stage in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s dramatisation of his colourful, tragic career. Titled simply Stephen Ward, the musical, at the Aldwych Theatre, promises to be a highlight of the West End year. Lloyd Webber wants it to be more, however: the springboard for a campaign to have the osteopath’s conviction declared a miscarriage of justice. “Ward,” he says, “once embraced by his friends in high society, became a pariah as the Establishment made him a scapegoat.”
He was backed yesterday by the eminent lawyer Lord Hutchinson, who defended Keeler in a perjury case. He sees the continued refusal to release documents relating to Ward’s trial as the Establishment “still looking after itself”.
But the wrong done to Ward may have been much worse than being made a scapegoat. Accounts of his end contain the standard ingredients: a man deserted by his erstwhile friends, alone in the early hours as disgrace beckons; a desperate succession of suicide notes written and addressed to recipients; a bottle of pills; the only “decent thing” left to do.
Could there, however, have been another ingredient – Stanley Rytter, the man standing outside the hospital that day with his daughter? Rytter was a “deniable”, a freelance operative for both MI5 and MI6. Now, for the first time, an intelligence colleague of his has gone on the record to claim that, in a deathbed confession, the Pole admitted that he murdered Ward to ensure his silence.
“It was decided that Ward had to die,” says Lee Tracey, a long-time MI6 asset. “Stanley Rytter is the one who killed Ward. I know because he told me. Rytter told me he was paid to kill Ward.
“He convinced Ward that he ought to have a good night’s sleep and take some sleeping pills. He let Ward doze off and then woke him again and told him to take his tablets. Another half an hour later or so, he woke Ward again and told him he’d forgotten to take his sleeping pills. So it went on, until Ward had overdosed. It might sound far-fetched, but it’s the easiest thing in the world to do. Once the victim is drowsy he will agree to almost anything.”
Ward, says Tracey, knew too much. For years, he had cultivated the high and mighty of British society, supplying friends with girls, not for money but for the kudos of moving within such circles. Politicians, aristocrats, even royalty, all attended Ward’s gatherings, some of which involved sadomasochism. John Profumo had been introduced to Keeler at Cliveden, home of Lord Astor, who had allowed the osteopath to rent a cottage on his estate. Scandal duly ensued when it emerged that Keeler had been sharing her bed with the Soviet naval attaché in London, Yevgeny Ivanov. Profumo, caught up in allegations that nuclear secrets had been betrayed during pillow-talk, denied having an affair with Keeler, but was then forced to admit the truth and resign.
That the death of Ward was convenient for Britain’s social and political elite is beyond doubt. Reputations remained intact that might otherwise have been destroyed in a flurry of disclosures about the sexual adventures of the great and good. The intelligence services, meanwhile, were rid of a potential embarrassment. Ward had been their man, a source of useful information on the peccadilloes of MPs, peers, diplomats and others. But when the Profumo story exploded, MI5, the domestic security service, and MI6, the foreign intelligence service, both involved with Ward, ran for cover.
“One can see why it may – repeat may – have seemed necessary to remove Stephen Ward from the scene,” says the investigative author Anthony Summers. “This was apparently a man with dangerous knowledge and by no means all of it had emerged at his trial. He had inside information of MI5 efforts to manipulate Ivanov and the seamy activities of Establishment figures.”
Summers is co-author of The Secret Worlds of Stephen Ward, an examination of the Profumo Affair undertaken with the academic Stephen Dorril. The book names Tracey as the source of the Rytter allegation for the first time. Tracey, now in his eighties, was himself tasked by MI6 with keeping an eye on people around Ward. MI6 engaged in many domestic operations between the Fifties and Seventies, often without reference to MI5.
“Ward was spotted by one of MI6’s stringers [freelance operatives] in the early Fifties as a possible asset,” says Dorril. “He was on nodding terms with influential people . MI6’s purpose with Ward is not yet clear, but they thought he might prove useful and helped him with small amounts of money.
“An opportunity to use Ward came in 1961, when he was introduced to Ivanov. While MI6 may have been targeting Ivanov – with a ‘honeytrap’ operation to snare the Russian through sexual compromise – things went wrong almost immediately when MI5 appeared on the scene with a similar interest in Ward.”
MI6 dropped its operation and MI5 got to work. Ward was happy to pass on information about Ivanov to his handler and MI5 did not regard the osteopath as a security risk.
Rytter was a former employee of Polish intelligence who had escaped to Britain during the war. He sometimes used journalistic cover to mask his activities, and also worked for Peter Rachman, a fellow Pole and the most notorious racketeer landlord in post-war London.
It was Rachman, says Tracey, who recommended Rytter to Ward. The latter was living in “abject fear” at the time of his trial and was persuaded that he should have a minder.
“Bumping people off was not Rytter’s forte,” says Tracey, who spoke with the dying Rytter in 1984. “He could be boastful. But why does a man who knows he is dying lie about something like that? What has he got to gain?”
Tracey was not alone in believing that Rytter had “assisted” Ward’s death. Another associate of Rachman, Serge Paplinski, told the authors: “Stanley was there with Ward on that last night. He always said that Ward was poisoned.”
The journalist Tom Mangold was working for the Daily Express in 1963 and knew Ward well. He visited him in Mallord Street and dismisses out of hand the notion that he was murdered, pointing to the numerous suicide notes penned by the osteopath.
However, there is a discordant aspect to the night of the supposed self-administered overdose. Some time after Mangold’s departure, Bryan Wharton, a Daily Express photographer, was asked to meet Ward at the osteopath’s flat in Bryanston Mews, not Mallord Street in Chelsea, where he was staying. There, Wharton found Ward engaged in writing a letter to Henry Brooke, the home secretary. It was full of names and Wharton managed to get a shot of it. Ward, he said, was “extremely upset” and insistent that Wharton should be at the Home Office at 7.30am the next day to photograph him delivering the missive. There was another man there. Wharton left Ward some time after midnight and delivered his pictures to the Express. They subsequently disappeared.
“The letter itself may have posed a threat,” says Summers. “Ward was a tinderbox, a man with nothing to lose, wounded, at bay, and it may be that someone decided to ensure his silence. I don’t know, though, how one squares such a notion with the evidence that he did intend to commit suicide. The story ends with a question mark.”
John Profumo died in 2006, his reputation rehabilitated by years of charitable work. Stephen Ward was an outcast at the time of his death. A single wreath marked his passing.
“I’d rather get myself,” wrote Ward in one of his suicide notes. “I do hope I haven’t let people down too much. I tried to do my stuff.”
He had “done his stuff” in refraining from naming names during those humiliating days in the dock. But no one was going to thank him.
A new book about the notorious Lord Tredegar Evan Morgan aims to tell his outrageous story for the first time
He was the Pope’s right hand man, a practising occultist, a spy and a fantasist.
His wild society parties attracted everyone from HG Wells to high profile Nazis – all of whom he’d entertain by dancing with his pet kangaroo.
But now a new book about the notorious Lord Tredegar Evan Morgan, entitled Hush Hush: The Peculiar Career of Lord Tredegar, aims to tell his outrageous story in full for the first time.
It also aims to redress the legacy of a man who, while eccentric – possibly to the point of madness – deserved greater recognition for how he served his country.
Writing it has been a labour of love for its author Paul Busby, who first fell under Morgan’s alluring spell while working at Tredegar House in Newport, the late aristocrat’s former home.
“I got there as a tour guide 14 years ago and can recall being shown the ropes by an elderly volunteer,” said the 34-year-old historian.
“And, as we passed by paintings of such family luminaries as the first Viscount Tredegar, who featured in mighty military operations like The Charge of the Light Brigade, he stopped and pointed at Evan’s portrait, saying, ‘and this one here should have been throttled at birth’.
“Well, after that I just had to find out more,” he said, adding that he was first intrigued by the paradox of Morgan being both chamberlain to Pope Pious XI and a veteran dabbler in the Black Arts.
“He’d met and become friends with infamous occultist Aleister ‘The Great Beast’ Crowley in Paris in the 1920s.
“In fact, Crowley called him Adept of Adepts, which means ‘the best of the best’ – Evan also went by the name The Black Monk, although you couldn’t fail to spot him with his robes on because that big beak of a nose would always poke out from underneath his cowl.”
So how on Earth did he serve so highly in the papacy for most of the 1920s and 1930s?
“Good question, to which my answer is ‘don’t know’,” said Busby.
“I’m not sure why the Vatican, where Evan lived for one month of each year, put up with it – it’s also said he’d often go directly from his papal duties to the grave of the Romantic poet Shelley in Rome and perform incantations.”
Perhaps – given that King Paul of Greece took him as a lover and Queen Mary called him her “favourite bohemian” as he read her palm – it was all down to how well connected he was?
“Well, British Intelligence certainly used him, and he was close to the likes of Lloyd George and Churchill’s Minister of Information, Brendan Bracken,” said Busby.
“Ultimately though, he was a consumptive who, despite being desperate to join in the second World War effort, got turned away by the Welsh Guard.
“So he ended up being put in charge of the Third Monmouthshire Battalion of the Home Guard – essentially he was our version of Captain Mainwaring from Dad’s Army.”
And several of Morgan’s attempt at foiling Nazi plots might well have been lifted directly from the script of that classic sit-com.
“While he was with MI8 he hatched a plan to drop hundreds of spy pigeons from planes, but they just ended up getting sucked into their engines,” he said.
“Effectively, he just ended up showering the enemy with mince meat.
“And let’s not forget the time he blabbed top secret information to some girl guides he’d shown around his office.
“He got a spell in the Tower of London for that and MI5 had to bail him out. Why MI5? Again, maybe he knew too much and had to be kept in check.
“Furthermore, the chap who tried to have Evan court marshalled ended up dying mysteriously a short while later – it’s suggested he and Crowley had performed some kind of ritual to bring it about.”
Severely reprimanded, Morgan was sent back to Wales to see out his days throwing the sort of boozy bashes he’d hosted in his ‘30s heyday – his guests ranging from Brave New World author Aldous Huxley to KGB agents and Hitler’s close friend Princess Stephanie Hohenlohe.
“Was Evan still gathering intel for the secret services? We can’t be too sure because he could also be something of a Walter Mitty.”
But, be it truth or lies, the life of Lord Tredegar often proved so much stranger than fiction.
“It’s like Aldous Huxley himself once said, ‘Why even bother trying to make up characters for one’s books when real people like Evan Morgan already exist,” added Busby.
Hush Hush: The Peculiar Career of Lord Tredegar will be out later this year
Robert MontaguAlexander Victor Edward Paulet Montagu, 1906 – 1995, was the 10th Earl of Sandwich, and was also known as Viscount Hinchingbrooke and as Victor Montagu.
He disclaimed his peerage in 1964.
Victor Montagu, his wife Rosemary, and Robert’s older siblings.
Robert Montagu says: “There’s a huge amount of shame and a huge will not to cause damage within your family.”I wrote the first draft when I was 16 and I’ve probably done ten versions since then.”I always intended it to be written as a novel but then I came to realise in the last three months it had to be done as a memoir.”If you want the message to come across that people should be brave enough to speak out, you really have to put your name to it and write it with people’s names as they are.””After all, as a therapist I spend my life advising people to tell what’s happened to them, and I can’t therefore continue to take cover under my own story and disguise it. It’s not an honest thing to do…”I could lose all contact with my brother… It’s going to give him problems walking round the House of Lords and I sympathise with him but I’m afraid I can’t spare him… I’ve spared him for 55 years.”
Jimmy Savile owned a flat in Dorset and reportedly abused a number of children in Dorset.Savile’s string of victims in DorsetVictor Montagu married Rosemary Peto who later divorced him.
She apparently preferred the company of women.
Victor Montagu then married a daughter of the Duke of Devonshire. Their marriage was later annulled.
Victor Montagu’s abuse of Robert was discovered by one of Robert’s sisters.
Robert was sent back to his boarding ‘prep school’.
The family and the family doctor decided to keep things quiet.
Robert says: “I know personally of ten (victims) and I’ve spoken with most of those.
“They were family friends, London contacts, Dorset contacts, holiday contacts.
“I suspect it might be 20, possibly more.”
Read more: http://www.dailymail.
Another Lord Montagu –
Towards the end of this subtle, thoughtful biography of Queen Victoria AN Wilson presents his defining argument. Victoria, he suggests, was an artist. He isn’t talking here about her rather good watercolours, but something more profound. The queen, he claims, lived an entirely inward life, filled with characters and narratives of her own making: saintly Albert, bad Bertie, twinkly Disraeli and the wicked, wicked Boers. Just like that other epic storyteller Marcel Proust, Victoria stayed home (although, unlike the Frenchman, she never allowed herself to lie in bed) and conjured up a world that unfurled over the decades as larger-than-life characters bloomed, hovered and faded, leaving behind their own particular perfume.
It is the queen’s inwardness, Wilson says, which makes her such an excellent subject for a biographer. There’s no requirement to go puffing after her on endless banal state visits, bridge openings, or troopings the colour – because she didn’t do them, or at least not much. Anyway, Wilson covered all that in The Victorians, his bestseller of 10 years ago that dealt with the 19th-century’s outerworld of iron, brick and cotton bales. In this new book he prefers to stay indoors with Victoria in one of her freezing residences as she pours out millions of words into her daily journal and letters, sifting external events through what Wilson calls “the rich comedy” of her consciousness.
Like any artist whose vision was both protean – she was perfectly capable of believing six contradictory things before breakfast – and particular, Victoria has been a magnet for biographical rereadings in the 11 decades since her death. The best include Lytton Strachey‘s surprisingly tender Queen Victoria of 1921 and Elizabeth Longford‘s still highly readable Victoria RI of 1964. Then, in the 1990s, academic scholars got hold of the queen and the result was a poststructuralist Victoria – all fragments, gaps and jagged edges. Now, 20 years since that last serious flurry of biographical interest, Wilson picks up the pieces and puts the jigsaw back together again, creating in the process a Victoria for our own times.
And what those times require, it turns out, is a passionate pan-Europeanist. It has long been a given of Victorian scholarship that Prince Albert spent his short, strenuous life trying to graft German liberalism on to the British constitution to create a template of moderate monarchism that could withstand the challenge of revolution and nationalism alike. His grand idea was to export this model back to Protestant Europe as a gift-with-purchase whenever someone married one of his and Victoria’s nine-strong nursery tribe. By this means every Duchy, Palatinate and hyphenated micro-kingdom would be given the tools it needed to stay safe in an uncertain world. They would also, in time, join up to form a central European hub that was rock-solid liberal.
The assumption has always been that by the time of Albert’s early death in 1861 this project had stalled under pressures of working class democracy at home and Prussian militarism abroad. Wilson, though, has been back to the archives in Coburg and reconnected with the tap-root of Victoria and Albert’s plan for a united, moderate Germany. He shows convincingly that, despite being poleaxed by grief at losing her “Angel”, Victoria remained passionately engaged in what might be described as “the Coburg project”. When the Schleswig-Holstein crisis blew up in the early 1860s she understood, in a way that her prime minister, Palmerston, did not, that buried in this parochial squabble between Prussia and Denmark were the first signs of the Bismarckian aggression that would eventually rip Europe apart. It was only thanks to the wise queen, suggests Wilson, that Britain did not blunder into a war with Germany at this point, 50 years before it was capable of winning.
Wilson pays proper attention to the Hanoverian side of Victoria’s inheritance too. She was the granddaughter of King George III, which meant that whenever she behaved oddly courtiers began to wonder if she might be mad. Wilson believes that there were times, especially in the late 1860s, when Victoria was properly “out of her mind”. Her letters to Gladstone, sometimes scrawled in blue crayon and barely stretching to two lines, read like dispatches from an interior world to which the drawbridge has been pulled temporarily shut.
In the end, though, Wilson doesn’t put the queen’s strange episodes down to porphyria, the heritable disease that is assumed to have caused her grandfather to clatter off into his own imaginary kingdom. Instead, he blames grief, the menopause and too much whisky: Victoria picked up the tippling habit from John Brown and never shook it off. And as to whether or not she actually slept with the man in the tartan skirt, Wilson thinks it doesn’t really matter, although it’s pretty clear he thinks she did. What interests him, rather, is the way that “Mrs Brown’s” spectacular bad behaviour makes her the obvious, if unlikely, role model for her scoundrel heir, the hapless Bertie. Mother and son both did exactly as they damn well pleased, embarrassing their families and imperilling the monarchy as they acted on the prompts of their own emotional and erotic inner worlds.
This makes Victoria’s constant criticism of Bertie as well as his siblings – arrogant Affie, wild Louise, selfish Leopold – seem hypocritical. But, Wilson insists, for Victoria, the political always remained intensely personal. She was critiquing her children not so much as real people but as characters in an imaginary dynastic drama, as vivid to her as the Guermantes were to Proust. As Prussia began to dominate Germany, the ageing queen continued to fret over the marriages of her grandchildren – all those oyster-eyed Victorias, Alices, Arthurs and Alfreds – who were to be sent out in a second wave to the four corners of Europe, carrying their fateful cargo of haemophilia, porphyria and sound constitutional principles.
Of course, anyone who gathered in the streets in 1897 to wave a flag as the queen passed by on her way to celebrate her diamond jubilee with a Te Deum on the steps of St Paul’s was probably not thinking much about the Coburg project. Decades earlier she had thrown in her lot with Disraeli, that other great storymaker, who had turned her into the Empress of India, a suitably gaudy figurehead for the new age of popular, jingoistic Toryism. All the same, Wilson suggests in this shimmering and rather wonderful biography, as the elderly queen smiled and inclined her head to the ecstatic crowd, it was still possible to discern in that dumpling form traces of all the earlier versions of herself still buried deep inside. She had become nothing less than a symbol of Time itself, a reminder of the good intentions of the past and a warning about what might happen once she was gone and, with her, the dream of a united Europe.