The tale of four brothers

Sometimes, brothers can be...too different.

Once upon a time, in 1854 a Dorset girl by the name of Anne Harvey married. Her new husband, ten years her senior, was called William Druitt.

Lucky, they said, for he was a surgeon, and would later become a justice of the peace. His family was well-known in Dorset, with generations of ministers, doctors and judges, it sure looked like an enviable party.

William wasn't that easy a person. He had views, like every Victorian man, and he was religious. Anne soon learned how strict he could be, and how authoritative. But first, she had a daughter, Georgiana.

Next came William, his father's favourite. Obstinate, arrogant, selfish- and very much like his father. The very next year, in 1857, Montague arrived, and it was obvious he has taken after his mother's side. His eyes were dark blue, his features more delicate. Anne loved him very much- but his father seemed perpetually unsatisfied with little Montie.

Four more children followed- Edward, Arthur, Edith and Ethel, and each pregnancy could have easily been the last, for Anne was fragile and delicate, and her emotional state was unstable. At times, she would fall into bouts of melancholy, and her husband, thinking exactly as a Victorian medical man, visited her in her bedroom. Pregnancy, you see, was thought to alleviate bad mood and depression.

William seemed to detest his younger siblings. The only one he loved was his little sister Edith. Montie enraged him, Edward was physically stronger, and Arthur resembled Montie too much.

William became a solicitor.

His father was immensely proud if him. He expected Montie to follow suit, but Montie surprised him. He was, what we'd call a classicist, a skilled sportsman, and a very keen debate leader. To top that, he was amiable and handsome - and William certainly wasn't.

Edward chose military service and this, of course, disappointed his father. They never got along too well, any way, so Edward packed up his things and went to Wales. His marriage to the Catholic heiress didn't sit well with his family. He converted to Catholicism too, and to his mother it was quite a blow.

Arthur became a schoolteacher. But his life was a bit overshadowed by the tragedies of the family.

In 1885, William Druitt the elder suddenly died. His will left nothing to his sons except for William. For daughters he had provided, of course. By that time, Montie has successfully transformed into a very promising barrister in London, combining practice with cricket, fives and teaching. William who was left behind in Dorset, envied Montie.

Case after case, and Montie was surely heading for a promotion- but another tragedy struck. In summer 1888, Anne succumbed to the same mental illness that drove her mother insane, leading her to suicide. The very same thing would later plague her sister and Montie's elder sister, Georgiana.

Anne tried to kill herself and William arranged for her to go to the institution in Brighton. Later he got her into a rather strange institution famous for cruelty - the Brooke House.

Weird choice, innit?

This created a rift between the siblings. Arthur and Montie were vocal in their opinion, and their sisters supported them, but William was the de facto and de jure head of the family, and had the right to decide.

Edward never spoke to William again.

In the same year, William was that close to failing his brother, presenting him with a delicate case involving politicians. He sincerely expected Montie to give up and crumble under the weight. But he didn't. It took him two months to get it right, and the case was won.

William was outraged. Instead of failing, his brother succeeded, and all the rage and hatred inside him bubbled and boiled.

Bright future was waiting for Montie. Certainly. But in December 1888 he vanished. William, this affectionate brother, didn't search for him till the mid-December. Then…

Montie's body was fished out of the Thames at Chiswick. Not the place he knowingly visited. Fully dressed, all personal possessions intact, large stones in his overcoat pockets. But no collar or tie.

The case was ruled out as a suicide in the unsound state of mind. William has provided some dubious and confusing testimonies at the inquest, and the case was closed.

London was still trying to catch breath after the murders of the East End. No-one cared about Montie.

They said, reluctantly that he must have spent about a month in the water. The newspapers even gave the details wrongly, assuming Montie was older and a doctor.

His tombstone, paid for in his own money, states he died on the 4th December although there's no date on his death certificate. He is still a mystery.

He was the reason I started writing MJD.

Our strange relationship is almost 25 years old, and that is telling. However, it started to come together only 5 months ago.

William lived on - to 1909 when his heart failed him on the way to the train station. Edward died in 1922, a well known military figure, a father and a husband.

As for Arthur, he outlived them all. He died in 1943, and his son was none other than the famous lawyer, Sir Harvey Druitt.

Their sisters married too. To Edith’s only daughter, Gwendoline, William left 250 pounds, whereas his other nephews and nieces got only a hundred.

Georgiana died in 1933, falling from her attic window. Edith survived her by two years, and Ethel lived to 1950.

Anne Druitt died in the asylum in Chiswick, never knowing her son was found so close to her last abode. It happened in 1890. She was sixty years old.

Unfortunately, I couldn't find all pictures I wanted, but there are the Druitt men- save for Arthur.

Montague, circa 1879.

William Druitt the elder

William Druitt the younger

Edward Druitt.