The Prince had always had a much more ‘modern’ point of view. He enjoyed throughout the 1920s and early 1930s a more fashionable, and perhaps cynical, world, a society in which the colour of fingernails, the length of skirts and the height of heels were more important than middle-class virtues. In this he was quite unlike his younger brother Bertie. Nonetheless the two brothers were close and the Duchess of York loved the Prince’s rather ‘naughty’ company; their letters to each other testify to the affection that developed between them from the moment of her engagement to the Duke. During the early 1930s, however, the Prince’s lifestyle contrasted more and more sharply with that of the Yorks. While the Yorks lived in domestic bliss, the Prince of Wales was a man about town. He took up flying, he summered on the Riviera rather than on Deeside, he spent many long evenings entertaining his friends in chic London nightclubs.
His favourite home was Fort Belvedere, which he had been granted by the King in 1929, just down the road from Royal Lodge. The Fort was a folly, a little Georgian eye-catcher at the southern end of Windsor Great Park, close to Virginia Water. It was, according to Diana Cooper, ‘a child’s idea of a fort’ with its castellated walls and tower.4 In this sense it was the complete opposite of Windsor Castle, the greatest castle in the land. Under the Prince of Wales’s stewardship, the Fort became something of a byword (not in the press, of course, but among those who knew) for fun. There the Prince and his guests could relax and enjoy themselves with little protocol.5
His parents dearly wanted him to marry and to have children. But the Prince was more interested in liaisons than in wedlock. During the 1920s and early 1930s, instead of searching for a bride who could eventually bring lustre to the throne, the Prince indulged in a series of affairs with married women, interspersed with many shorter relationships. The most durable of his romances were with Freda Dudley Ward, the MP’s wife who became the principal object of his affection from 1918, and then with Thelma Furness, twin sister of Gloria Vanderbilt, a pretty and gay creature who, like the Prince, enjoyed simple if not superficial pleasures.6 The Yorks liked Thelma Furness and the two couples often spent time together, particularly over weekends at Fort Belvedere or Royal Lodge.
One winter weekend in January 1933, the Yorks went skating near the Fort with the Prince and Thelma Furness. Both the Duchess and Thelma were new to this sport and Prince Albert found them kitchen chairs to push before them and help them stand up straight. Thelma wrote, ‘The lovely face of the Duchess, her superb colouring heightened by the cold, her eyes wrinkled with the sense of fun that was never far below the surface, made a picture I shall never forget.’7
There was another member of that skating party, a new American friend of the Prince. She was Mrs Ernest Simpson.
*
BOOKSHELVES HAVE been filled with works about Wallis Warfield Simpson. And with some reason. She so fascinated the Prince of Wales that he laid down his crown for her and thus altered for ever the course of the British monarchy.
Born in 1896 into a good Baltimore family, her early life was penniless. Her father died when she was only two and her mother for a time ran a boarding house. From childhood onwards she understood that security came with money. Her first husband, Winfield Spencer, was a handsome pilot but he turned out to be an alcoholic, and she divorced him in 1922 to lead a rackety life which took in China as well as New York. In 1928 she remarried. Her new husband was Ernest Simpson, a kindly Anglo-American, also good-looking, and they settled in London.
She was socially ambitious, and a friend of Thelma Furness, through whom she met the Prince of Wales. He was attracted by her glamour and her sharp wit. She was clever, she was brusque, she was self-possessed and, unlike any of the English women the Prince knew, she was completely unimpressed by royalty. She was probably the first person he had ever known who talked down to him. She said what she wanted, and what she wanted she generally got.
In early 1934 Thelma Furness made a three-month trip to the United States and, apparently, asked Wallis Simpson to keep an eye on the Prince in her absence. Lady Furness had chosen her chaperone badly. Within weeks of her departure the Prince had become enthralled by Wallis Simpson and frequently invited her and her husband to weekends at the Fort, while taking her dancing, during the intervening weeks, often without her husband. When Thelma Furness returned from America she found that her friend had usurped her position as favourite.8 She and Freda Dudley Ward were cut off.
The Prince’s own family soon had similar reasons for concern. Prince George, the closest of all the family to the Prince of Wales, lived with him at St James’s Palace and spent many weekends at the Fort. He realized quickly that Mrs Simpson was intent on dominating his brother and isolating him from his family. He later said that after she came into the Prince of Wales’s life, his family never saw him ‘as in days gone by’.9 Through 1934 and 1935 the Prince grew ever more bold in displaying his infatuation with Mrs Simpson. Although the British press still observed a total and astonishing silence on the affair out of deference to the monarchy, the American press rejoiced in the story and in London society the whispers grew louder. People in and around the Court talked of Mrs Simpson’s total control over the Prince.10 The King confronted his son, who denied any impropriety.11
Unlike most people, the King took him at his word. Nonetheless he was dismayed by his son’s conduct. ‘He has not a single friend who is a gentleman. He does not see any decent society. And he is 41.’12 Some months before his death the King is reported to have said, ‘I pray to God that my eldest son will never marry and have children, and that nothing will come between Bertie and Lilibet and the throne.’13
By 1935 it was clear to his family and close friends that the Prince was in thrall to Mrs Simpson. There was private speculation at the time – and much more later – that her hold was at least partly sexual. His biographer considered that this may well have been true but there was more to the relationship than just sex. ‘Until the day he died his eyes would follow her around the room; if she went out he would grow anxious … It was her personality, not her appearance or her sexual techniques, which captivated him.’14
There were those who came to believe that, even before the death of his father, the Prince had already decided to renounce his right to the succession and abscond with Mrs Simpson. That was certainly the opinion of two of King George V’s Private Secretaries, Alan Lascelles and Alec Hardinge.15 Lascelles later stated that King Edward himself told him in the summer of 1936 that he had not wanted to become king.16 His brother confirmed this: shortly after the abdication, the new King George VI remarked to Owen Morshead, perhaps relying more than he realized on hindsight, ‘he never meant to take it on … You see Papa’s death fell wrongly for his plans … It would have been easy, comparatively, to chuck it while yet he was P. of Wales; he would have had a rough crossing with Papa, but he would have faced up to that.’17 In fact it would not have been simple for the Prince of Wales to ‘chuck it’: legislation would have been required, in Britain and the Dominions, to alter the line of succession. But it is true that, with his father’s death, he was trapped – by the Court, by ceremony and by the whole machinery of government. Perhaps it was no wonder that, though less close than the Duke of York to their father, he reacted to the moment of his death with a far greater display of emotion.
His anguish was deepened two days later when the late King’s will was read to the family. He discovered that his father had left him a life interest in Sandringham and Balmoral but, unlike his siblings, he was to receive no money. Clive Wigram and the King’s solicitor, Sir Bernard Bircham, explained to him that King George V had expected that (like previous Princes of Wales) he would have built himself a nest egg out of his Duchy of Cornwall revenues, and that his siblings had had no such income. (It was indeed later discovered that he had accumulated a considerable fortune.) The Prince was furious – and with a face like thunder, according to Lascelles, strode out of the room to telephone the bad news to Mrs Simpson.18
> Senior members of the Household soon began to despair at the priorities of the new King. Sir Godfrey Thomas, his Private Secretary for many years as Prince of Wales, was convinced that he was ‘not fitted to be King and that his reign will end in disaster’.19 Alec Hardinge, who had been Assistant Private Secretary to George V and whom the new King was soon to appoint his private secretary, found it even more difficult than he had expected to adjust. His wife Helen’s diary entries reflect his problems:
March 10th Alec late as usual owing to the new King’s strange hours!
March 27th Confusion in the King’s affairs because he’s so impractical.
March 31st Alec very much depressed by His Majesty’s irresponsibility.20
*
FOR THE DUCHESS of York the death of the King brought vast changes, both private and public. In a personal sense it created a void. She wrote revealingly of her relationship with her father-in-law to Lord Dawson:
Unlike his own children I was never afraid of him, and in all the twelve years of having me as a daughter-in-law he never spoke one unkind or abrupt word to me, and was always ready to listen, and give advice on one’s own silly little affairs. He was so kind, and so dependable … I am really very well now, and, I think, am now only suffering from the effects of a family break up – which always happens when the head of a family goes. Though outwardly one’s life goes on the same, yet everything is different – especially spiritually, and mentally.21
She was now the wife of the heir presumptive. Since the new King was unmarried and since Queen Mary, in mourning, would inevitably withdraw from public life for some time, her responsibilities were bound to increase. But whereas the Yorks had been an essential part of King George V’s Court, they were not nearly so close to that established by Edward VIII. The new King quickly seemed to withdraw from his family and into the bosom of his friends. That, if anything, made the relationship between Queen Mary and the Yorks closer than ever. The Queen had conducted herself during her husband’s last illness and since his death with her usual reserve and dignity. It was clear to those around her that she missed the King immensely, even though she remained quite calm.
Still convalescing from her pneumonia, the Duchess was prescribed a period of sea air, and in early March she and her daughters went to stay at the Duke of Devonshire’s house in Eastbourne, Compton Place. The Duke of York came to join her in between bouts of public engagements. She went up to London briefly to see the Gainsborough exhibition held by Sir Philip Sassoon at his Park Lane house. She was accompanied by Kenneth Clark, the director of the National Gallery and the Surveyor of the King’s Pictures, who was becoming an important adviser to her and was helping her build up a collection of pictures herself.* He complimented her on her appreciation of art. ‘So few people seem to enjoy pictures: they look at them stodgily, or critically – or acquisitively; seldom with real enthusiasm,’ he wrote.22
After a month at Compton Place the family returned to London, and then went home to Royal Lodge for Easter, which was very different that year. The tradition of many years had been abandoned; the Court did not move to Windsor Castle as it had throughout the reign of King George V. The King spent Easter with friends at Fort Belvedere. Queen Mary, by contrast, moved into Royal Lodge with the Duke and Duchess for almost three weeks. The Duchess gave up her bedroom and bathroom for her mother-in-law, who was also given the Octagon Room as her own sitting room, so that she could be as independent as possible.
Queen Mary’s presence meant that Royal Lodge became in effect the focus of the Royal Family at this time, with the King and other members of the family coming and going, to lunch, dine or stay. The Duchess, like everyone else in the family, was keenly aware that, with the death of King George V, Queen Mary’s role had changed. ‘I feel that the Family, as a family, will now revolve round you. Thank God we have all got you as a central point, because without that point it might easily disintegrate.’23 On Good Friday the King joined them at the Royal Chapel, immediately next to Royal Lodge, and next day, which was cold with showers of sleet, the Duke and Duchess and the Princesses arranged the flowers in the chapel as Queen Mary watched. On Easter Sunday they all exchanged eggs and gifts at breakfast and then went to a shortened matins in the Private Chapel at Windsor Castle with the King.24*
On 25 May the entire family supported Queen Mary on one of her first semi-public engagements since the death of her husband: she had been invited by the Cunard White Star Company to see the Queen Mary the day before she departed on her maiden voyage from Southampton to New York. All the Queen’s sons and daughters-in-law came; Princess Elizabeth was there too – her mother had asked if she could come as she was ‘madly keen’ to see the ship.25 The King flew down from Fort Belvedere; the rest of the family took the train. They had lunch on board with Sir Thomas and Lady Royden and the company directors.
Queen Mary recorded that it was a lovely day. They were shown all over the ship, from first class to third, inspecting the swimming pool and the Turkish bath, the restaurant adorned with a circus painting by Dame Laura Knight, the lounges, library and children’s rooms (where, according to the Morning Post, Princess Elizabeth played with the toys, slid down the slide, tried her hand at the toy piano and saw a Mickey Mouse cartoon), and the cabins, which Queen Mary pronounced very comfortable. On the King’s departure his scarlet and blue biplane circled over the ship and dipped ‘as if in salute to the world’s greatest liner’.26 Next day, 26 May, was Queen Mary’s birthday and, as every year, the family gathered at Buckingham Palace for lunch. For the Queen it was a sad occasion.
The loss of King George V’s dominating but reassuring presence, and the sense of unease brought by the new reign, sapped even the Duchess’s positive spirit. She valued the efforts of her friends to support and cheer her. Dick Molyneux took her to see the paintings at Greenwich and in the Courtaulds’ collection at Eltham Palace in southeast London. She loved it all, writing afterwards, ‘I am deeply grateful to you, my dear old friend and fellow Wet, for arranging such a good outing, and honestly, it did me all the good in the world. I still feel a bit sad about everything, & last Wednesday was a really bright moment in a gloomy summer.’27
Other friends kept her up to date with more sombre events. Nineteen-thirty-six was another year in which the power of the dictators, Hitler and Mussolini, grew. Having watched the world, and in particular the League of Nations, fail to stop Italy invading Abyssinia, the Nazi government reoccupied the demilitarized zone of the Rhineland. Nothing happened and the continent continued its descent into the twilight of barbarism. D’Arcy Osborne, who had now arrived in Rome as British ambassador to the Holy See, began to send the Duchess letters filled with drumbeats of warning about the march of fascism. He was concerned that Britain was far too smug and complacent. ‘Disarmed to the gums, we can’t afford to go throwing our morals and ideals in the faces of gangster dictators.’28
*
THE DUCHESS’S public life in the new reign was busier than ever; she was as much in demand, and her presence worked its familiar magic for charitable causes. She used her influence with the new King as she had with the old, appealing to Edward VIII on behalf of her charities. Not surprisingly, perhaps, she seemed more confident and more willing to express opinions and to intervene with friends in high places than she had been in the lifetime of King George V, in particular over the unemployment and poverty she saw on visits to industrial areas.
As patroness of the Toc H League of Women Helpers she went to several different events celebrating the group’s coming of age in June. The text of her handwritten speech for their festival at the Crystal Palace survives; she used the themes of family and home to welcome visitors from the ‘family’ of Empire to the home country. In one intriguing passage she said, ‘In these rather puzzling days [these words were underlined in red], it is both inspiring and comforting to feel, that all here tonight are united by the spirit of fellowship in the desire to keep burning the light of sacrifice & service, and to contri
bute by personal effort to the common good.’29 It is not clear whether her ‘puzzlement’ referred to the worsening international situation or to events nearer home.
Later in June the Duchess was hostess at a tea party at 145 Piccadilly which she may well have approached with mixed feelings: the Duke was President of the Imperial War Graves Commission, and the Anglo-German-French Committee of the Commission was visiting England. At the beginning of June the Duke decided to invite the Committee to tea, together with the French and German Ambassadors. So the Duchess found herself entertaining the former Chief of the General Staff of the German army and several other German officials, as well as their French and British counterparts.30
At the end of July the Duke and Duchess visited Jarrow, the origin of one of the hunger marches. Much of Britain was by now recovering, but in Jarrow about 40 per cent of the people were still out of work. Feelings were running high in the area, and Walter Runciman, the President of the Board of Trade, was perturbed by the timing of this royal visit.31 In fact, it proved a public success, although a disturbing experience for the Duchess, who was horrified by the poverty she saw. ‘I always dread going up to Tyneside,’ she wrote to Duff Cooper, now the Secretary of State for War, ‘because I admire the people there with all my heart, & it darkens my thoughts for months afterwards, to know how desperate they are.’ But at least despair had not given way to apathy. She went to Palmer’s Shipyard, the only source of employment in the town, which she thought a scene of desolation. On the streets they drove ‘through large crowds of emaciated, ragged, unhappy & undaunted people, who gave us a wonderful reception’. Their courage made her weep, she said; she found it terrible that so many good men should be wasted. She wished that more of these unemployed young men could join the army – to that end she asked Duff Cooper if the standards of fitness for recruits could not be reduced to allow more men to benefit from army training. He replied that his Ministry would act upon her suggestion.32
The Queen Mother Page 48