Queen Elizabeth’s Fishing Rod and How I Came to Possess It

How did I come into possession of Queen Elizabeth’s fishing rod? No, not Queen Elizabeth II; her mother, The Queen Mum. Here’s a story worthy of Pawn Stars or the Antiques Road Show.

In 1939, just a few months before the outbreak of World War II, King George VI and Queen Elizabeth (parents of the future Queen Elizabeth II), embarked on a royal visit to Canada which brought them to the city of Hamilton, Ontario. My great-grandfather, Tom Brown, was Chief of the Hamilton Police Force at the time. He was in charge of security for the Hamilton leg of the royal tour.

Below, you can see the King and Queen addressing the crowd on their visit to Hamilton. My great-grandfather is pictured in the lower left in his dress uniform.

Avid Fly Fishers

King George and Queen Elizabeth were avid fly fishers. Below, we see Elizabeth, then Duchess of York (prior to their coronation), fly fishing in New Zealand in the 1920s.

Fishing Rods Fit for a King and Queen

The municipal government of the City of Hamilton wanted to present the King and Queen with a commemorative gift to remember their visit to Hamilton. They commissioned a pair of custom, hand-made, nine-foot, bamboo fly-fishing rods from the Horrocks-Ibbotson Company of Canada, headquartered in nearby Grimsby, Ontario. Horrocks-Ibbotson was reputed to be one of the premier fishing rod makers in the world. They were based in New York. Their Canadian factory in Grimsby was opened in 1933 and burned down in 1941, so they only made fishing rods in Canada for 8 years.

The Queen Elizabeth’s fishing rod does not bear the traditional Horrocks-Ibbotson logo, but is inscribed as follows:

To Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth with the Compliments of the Horrocks Ibbitson Co., of Canada, Ltd., Grimsby.

I presume the King’s fly rod was similarly inscribed, but I’ve never seen it. Unfortunately, nobody thought to check with the royal handlers to ascertain whether the King and Queen were allowed to accept gifts at all. It turns out that they were not. The fishing rods were politely declined.

Now What Do We Do With Them?

This situation created an awkward moment for Mayor William R Morrison, KC, of Hamilton, who was supposed to present the rods on behalf of the City of Hamilton. He now had two custom fly-fishing rods in his possession that were inscribed to the King and Queen, paid for by the City of Hamilton, but were declined by their intended recipients. What do you do with them? Give them back to the company that made them? Donate them to a local museum? Mount them on a wall at City Hall? Or just keep them for yourself?

According to tradition in my family, Mayor Morrison, who was close friends with Police Chief Tom Brown, proposed that he and the chief should keep the fishing rods for themselves. Mayor Morrison kept the King’s fishing rod, and my great-grandfather, Chief Tom Brown, kept the Queen’s fishing rod.

The Queen’s Fishing Rod Passes Down Through the Generations

On the death of Chief Tom Brown, Queen Elizabeth’s fishing rod passed to his son (my grandfather), J. Stewart Brown. On the death of my grandfather, the fishing rod passed to my father, Kenneth R. Brown.

Queen Elizabeth’s fishing rod is nine-feet long and comes in three sections with an additional spare tip section. It is stored in a steel tube about a metre long with a screw cap on one end. It lived in the front hall closet of my house growing up. I remember my father would take it out occasionally, assemble it, and let me and my brother gently swish it around in the living room. I’m amazed we didn’t break anything. We were strictly forbidden from touching it without our father being present.

Upon the death of our father, Queen Elizabeth’s fishing rod passed to me and my brother. And here it is…