Alastair Scott's "Eccentric Wealth: The Bulloughs of Rum" is a fascinating and well researched book. Like the author, I would concede there is a great deal of fiction that has built up around Sir George whose inherited wealth came from his father, John, a wealthy industrialist who manufactured looms in Accrington, but not enough that would comfortably rule out, as the author does, any suggestion he might not have not enjoyed sex with men. Alastair Scott writes with some indignation: "Can anything of George's sexuality be extracted from a Christmas card, for goodness' sake?" I would refer to "gay George" more in the context of a post First World War polysexual decadence rather than in any strictly libertarian sense, or even a more modern implication which could justifiably be used to describe George in a postcard showing him dancing in a mini-kilt supported by two men or squeezing his six-foot-five frame into pink cerise jockey vests. Alastair Scott positions himself as a confirmed and unrepentant heterosexual male, with which, I'm sure, given the penalties; George Bullough would've happily colluded. Of George's wife, society belle, Monica Charrington he writes: "Her beauty was such that it would have been nigh on impossible for her to have avoided the countless affairs she is said to have had." However many affairs she might've had, and there is evidence of an affair during her first marriage, the separate sleeping arrangements hardly point to a robustly heterosexual affair between her and George, although they did have one daughter, Hermione.
Sir George's father, John, an arch-Conservative, was a violent bully. Of the many letters he would write to newspapers, this one just about sums him up: "I hate strong-minded women. I think they are enemies of their sex. They are the products of, and the associates of, weak-minded men. I don't like to see my ideal destroyed and transformed into a repulsive creature `half-Margaret and half-Henry'". His marriage lasted 10 years before his wife, Bertha, citing his appalling violence, divorced him and fled the country. Always immaculately dressed, six-foot-five, handsome and with what the author admits to a "narcissistic habit of combing his hair", George later travelled the world, sharing hotel rooms with his `personal secretary' and constant companion for over a decade, Robert Mitchell. Robert was 13 years older than George and organised his `coming of age' party where his 2,000 factory workers were given 2/6d and the day off in Blackpool. Was George really gay? Who knows? But as critical as Alastair Scott is about the myths, he's not beyond contributing to them himself. It was rumoured George had an affair with his father's wife Alexander who was only five years older than him. Scott writes: "The opportunities and incentives for them becoming clandestine lovers were undoubtedly there. That there was such an intimate bond between George and Alexandra may have been based on nothing but gossip but I suspect there was fire beyond the smoke." All the same, the author should be congratulated on his efforts to unmask the truth behind the stories of what really went on at Kinloch Castle. Despite some of my own reservations, he has does a fine job which makes for some compelling reading.