On the evening of Monday 7 December the King finally agreed to see the Duke of York at Fort Belvedere. ‘I was with him at 7.0 pm. The awful and ghastly suspense of waiting was over,’ the Duke recorded. Pacing up and down the room, the King told his brother that he had decided to abdicate. The Duke went back to Royal Lodge for dinner before returning to the Fort. ‘I felt having once got there I was not going to leave. As he is my eldest brother I had to be there to try & help him in his hour of need.’101 Later that night the Duke returned to London with his wife.
At this point in the crisis the Duchess was struck by one of her frequent attacks of flu. She took to her bed at 145 Piccadilly and was thus absent for most of the dramatic events that followed. She was stunned by it all and, like her husband, could still scarcely believe what the King was doing, let alone the implications for her own family. The Duchess had a very definite view on the King’s proposal that he should be able to remain on the throne while contracting a morganatic marriage to Mrs Simpson. She wrote to her sister May, ‘Bertie & I are feeling very despairing, and the strain is terrific. Every day lasts a week, & the only hope we have is in the affection & support of our family & friends. I feel so sad, & yet there is only a very straightforward case – if Mrs Simpson is not fit to be Queen, she is not fit to be the King’s morganatic wife.’102 In a letter to Lady Londonderry she demurred from the suggestion that Queen Mary’s views should discreetly be made known. ‘I also think that it is essential for the Queen to remain outside any controversy – she must be above everything, and her calm & dignity will prove to the people the futility of the cheap Press.’103
Every day brought new uncertainties and wild rumours.104 Negotiations between the King, his family, his advisers and the Prime Minister continued. On the evening of Tuesday 8 December there was a surprising interlude – a dinner at the Fort, which was attended by the Prime Minister, the Dukes of York and Kent, the King’s advisers Walter Monckton and Edward Peacock, his solicitor, and Ulick Alexander, the Keeper of the Privy Purse. According to the Duke of York’s own account, while all the guests ‘were very sad (we knew the final & irrevocable decision he had made) my brother was the life & soul of the party … I whispered to W.M. [Walter Monckton] “& this is the man we are going to lose.” One couldn’t, nobody could, believe it.’105
At the end of a harrowing day of discussions with the King and his advisers on 9 December, the Duke returned to London to his mother and wife. He went to see Queen Mary; Walter Monckton came, bringing the draft Instrument of Abdication to show them. As the Duke recorded, ‘I broke down & sobbed like a child.’106 His mother recalled this later, saying he was appalled. ‘He was devoted to his brother and the whole Abdication crisis made him miserable. He sobbed on my shoulder for an hour – there, upon that sofa.’107 Queen Mary was herself in shock. Her biographer pointed out that in her diary she rarely indulged in exclamation marks. On this occasion she clearly felt they were necessary. She still could not believe that her son, her firstborn, was determined to abdicate ‘the Throne of this Empire because he wishes to marry Mrs Simpson!!!! The whole affair has lasted since Novr. 16th and has been very painful. It is a terrible blow to us all & particularly to poor Bertie.’108
The Duchess, still ill in bed, wrote to Queen Mary next day:
I am so distressed that at this most vital and unhappy moment in the history of our country, I cannot leave the house to come & be with you. Old Weir insists that I remain in my room, at least for today and very unwillingly I have accepted his advice. My thoughts are continually with you, and we are sustained & encouraged more than I can say by your wonderful example of dignity and wisdom. Darling Mama, you are indeed a beacon of light to all the poor bewildered people who are now groping in the darkness of disillusionment, and with your leadership we must all combine to get the country back to what it was this time last year.
She ended the letter, ‘I have great faith in Bertie – he sees very straight, & if this terrible responsibility comes to him he will face it bravely.’109
At about 10 a.m. on 10 December, in the presence of his brothers, the King signed the Instrument of Abdication, which declared his ‘irrevocable determination to renounce the throne for Myself and for My descendants’. A few hours later the Prime Minister told the whole sorry story to the House of Commons and thus the world. In her diary that night Queen Mary recorded that this ‘was received in silence & with real regret. The more one thinks of this affair the more regrettable it becomes.’110
That day negotiations became quite unpleasant on the subject of the financial settlement to be agreed with the King after his abdication. The most difficult questions involved Sandringham and Balmoral, in which, under the terms of King George V’s will, his eldest son had a life interest. The properties now had to be passed to the Duke of York but the King wanted as generous a settlement for himself as he could obtain. He claimed that his total fortune was only £90,000 and that he could not survive without subsidy. He insisted that his brother should buy his life interest in Sandringham and Balmoral. The Duke agreed to pay him £25,000 a year if the government declined to do so. Later, however, it became clear that the King had lied to his brother about the true state of his finances in ways which seemed unforgivable. His wealth was later estimated to be closer to £1 million than to £100,000. ‘It was a suicidal lie,’ wrote King Edward VIII’s biographer; and it drove further pain deep into the brothers’ relationship over the years to come.111
Freddy Dalrymple Hamilton wrote in his diary the same day: ‘The Duke of York is to be proclaimed King on Saturday & so Elizabeth will become Queen of England – a fate I never guessed for her in the old days of Glamis but which she will do as well as she does her present job.’112
The family rallied to the Duke and Duchess. Princess Mary* wrote at once to her sister-in-law:
My darling Elizabeth,
I do want to tell you how very much you are in my thoughts at this most distressing time for us all but more especially for you and Bertie not knowing from day to day for over 3 weeks what your future life was to be. It is all a nightmare but I am truly thankful that at last the right solution has been found. I know that Bertie will carry on the great traditions of our monarchy and in this he will have you to help him. It is a great comfort at this time to realize what yours and Bertie’s happiness can mean to this Country and the Empire … Now darling Elizabeth you must take care of yourself and get quite well. I am too sorry your being laid up just now.
Best love, darling Elizabeth, ever your most devoted Mary113
That night when the Duke returned to his home at 145 Piccadilly, as he later recorded, ‘I found a large crowd outside my house cheering wildly. I was overwhelmed.’114
The next day, Friday 11 December, his brother’s abdication was announced just before 2 p.m. The Duke was now King George VI – he had decided to take his father’s name to strengthen the sense of continuity. For the new King it was ‘that dreadful day’. He spent most of it occupied with arrangements for his Accession Council and Proclamation and with the difficult question of what his brother’s title should now be. A decision was needed quickly because his brother insisted on making a farewell broadcast and Sir John Reith of the BBC was planning to introduce him on air that night as ‘Mr Edward Windsor’. The King pointed out that that was quite wrong and instructed that his brother should be introduced as ‘His Royal Highness Prince Edward’; he also declared his intention of giving the ex-King a new title. Indeed the first act of his reign was to make his brother duke of Windsor.115
That evening the final act of the tragedy took place at Royal Lodge. There the Royal Family dined together for the last time. Absent from the dinner, the new Queen wrote an affectionate letter of farewell to her brother-in-law.
Darling David
I am so miserable that I cannot come down to Royal Lodge owing to being ill in bed, as I wanted so much to see you before you go, and say ‘God bless you’ from my heart. We are all overcome with misery, and can
only pray that you will find happiness in your new life.
I often think of the old days, & how you helped Bertie & I in the first years of our marriage. I shall always mention you in my prayers, & bless you, Elizabeth116
Afterwards Prince Edward was driven to Windsor Castle to make his farewell broadcast, which he had written himself, with some help from both Monckton and Churchill. He spoke well and moved many of his listeners to tears. Declaring his allegiance to the new monarch and his loyalty to Britain, he explained, ‘I have found it impossible to carry the heavy burden of responsibility and to discharge my duties as King as I would wish to do without the help and support of the woman I love.’ Determined to exonerate Mrs Simpson, he said, ‘The other person most nearly concerned has tried up to the last to persuade me to take a different course.’ He entrusted the nation to his brother ‘with his long training in the public affairs of this country and with his fine qualities’ and pointed out that ‘he has one matchless blessing, enjoyed by so many of you and not bestowed on me – a happy home with his wife and children.’ He ended with the words, ‘And now we all have a new King. I wish him and you, his people, happiness and prosperity with all my heart. God save the King.’
The new Duke then returned to Royal Lodge to say goodbye to his family. Queen Mary had been relieved by the content of her son’s speech. This was perhaps the lowest point of her life, but she concealed her feelings behind her mask of dignity and courage. ‘And then’, she wrote, ‘came the dreadful good bye as he was leaving that evening for Austria. The whole thing was too pathetic for words.’117 The new King embraced his predecessor and the Duke bowed to his new sovereign.118
The Duke was then driven away through the fog. In Portsmouth at 2 a.m. he boarded HMS Fury for the first leg of his journey into exile. To his astonishment, not one of his personal servants would agree to go with him.
As his brother was driving away, King George VI returned to London to his sick wife who, by her own later account, had lived the last week in a daze.119 Queen Mary wrote to her to say how sorry she was her temperature still kept them apart. ‘Thank God this awful crisis is at an end & people all welcome you both warmly, the P.M. has handled it so well and D. has acted with great dignity. You darling know how much I love you both & that you can always count on me to help you as much as I can.’120
The next morning, 12 December, at his Accession Council, the new King spoke with a low, clear voice but with hesitations which touched the hearts of many who heard him:
Your Royal Highnesses, My Lords and Gentlemen,
I meet you today in circumstances which are without parallel in the history of our Country. Now that the duties of Sovereignty have fallen upon Me I declare to you My adherence to the strict principles of constitutional government and My resolve to work before all else for the welfare of the British Commonwealth of Nations. With My wife and helpmeet by My side, I take up the heavy task which lies before Me.121
The following day, Sunday, prayers were offered for the new King and Queen throughout the country.
Reflecting on the abdication many years later in her series of conversations with Eric Anderson, Queen Elizabeth stressed the high hopes that everyone had held for King Edward VIII and the shock of his departure.
It was a terrible surprise to everybody when he decided that he had to leave. It was the whole Commonwealth who said no no, we don’t want you to marry this lady. And it was just a terrible tragedy, it really was. We all loved the Prince of Wales and we all thought he was going to be a wonderful King. It was the most ghastly shock when he decided to go. It was a dreadful blow to his brother because, you see, they were great friends. It’s a terrible, bitter blow when somebody you love behaves like that. Fortunately he was never crowned, and that was one of the good things he did. If he was going to make up his mind to go away, to do it before.
I wonder. I don’t think he ever wanted to be King. I don’t think he thought of it as something he ought to do. Very odd. People do change in a strange way. He had this extraordinary charm, and then it all disappeared. I don’t know what happened. Nobody knows, really. He was frightfully popular. Everybody adored him. I think he may have thought he was so popular that people would want him back, whatever. I imagine that might have been in his mind. Oh, he was immensely popular all over the Commonwealth. He was extremely attractive. That makes it all the more strange, the whole thing. He must have been bemused with love, I suppose. You couldn’t reason with him, nobody could. The whole Government tried, everybody tried. The only good thing is, I think he was quite happy with her.122
*
AFTER A YEAR of sadness and constant tensions, it was a time for rest, reflection and consolidation. Fortunately the Christmas and New Year holidays gave the new King and Queen, their family, their Household and, indeed, their country time to pause and take stock of the extraordinary events they had lived through.
Princess Elizabeth and Princess Margaret, aged only ten and six, also needed time to absorb what had happened. Their parents had protected them from the drama of the abdication, and they had been told nothing of it until it was over. Lady Cynthia Asquith, their mother’s biographer, recorded that she saw the Princesses the day after their father’s accession; Princess Margaret said, ‘Isn’t all this a bore? We’ve got to leave our nice house now,’ while her elder sister was awestruck at the sight of an envelope addressed to ‘Her Majesty The Queen’. ‘That’s Mummie now, isn’t it?’ she said. Princess Margaret later recalled that she asked her sister whether this all meant that she herself would one day be queen. ‘She replied, “Yes, I suppose it does.” ’123 After that, Princess Elizabeth did not mention it again. Meanwhile the two children had to come to terms with the imminent loss not only of their happy home at 145 Piccadilly but also of their relatively unconstrained family life. There was a new formality to get used to, now that the life of the Court revolved around their parents. Now both father and mother were always in the limelight – and so too were the children, although their mother continued to try to shield them from publicity. But her new role would also mean that she had less time to devote to her daughters. At least for now, her principal task undoubtedly had to be to support and encourage her husband.
She wrote at once to the Archbishop of Canterbury, to thank him for his sympathy and good advice. She said, ‘I can hardly now believe that we have been called to this tremendous task, and, (I am writing to you quite intimately) the curious thing is that we are not afraid. I feel that God has enabled us to face the situation calmly.’ They were, she said, ‘so very unhappy over the loss of a dear brother – because one can only feel that exile from this country is death indeed … We pray most sincerely that we shall not fail our country, & I sign myself for the first time, & with great affection Elizabeth R.’124 Cosmo Lang was touched by this letter, and his chaplain Alan Don urged him to keep it carefully for it showed the Queen’s spirit – ‘we are not afraid’.125 The Archbishop told her he was eager to discuss the plans for the Coronation of not only the new King but also ‘forgive me if I say Hurrah! – of the Queen’.126 One decision had been already made. The Coronation was to be on 12 May 1937, the day planned for Edward VIII.
Dr Lang also made his own controversial intervention. In a post-abdication address to the nation, the Archbishop criticized the late King’s conduct: ‘Even more strange and sad is that he should have sought his happiness in a manner inconsistent with the Christian principles of marriage, and within a social circle whose standards and whose way of life are alien to all the best instincts and traditions of his people.’127 These words aroused widespread distaste and hundreds of critical, even abusive letters, were received at Lambeth Palace in the next few days. A doggerel made the rounds:
My Lord Archbishop what a scold you are!
And when your man is down how bold you are!
In Christian charity how scant you are!
Oh! Old Lang Swine, how full of Cantuar!
Many of those who criticized him feared that
his words would have upset Queen Mary. On the contrary: Queen Mary told those around her that she thought the Archbishop ‘was quite right in saying what he did’.128 Queen Elizabeth agreed. To one friend she wrote of the Archbishop’s address, ‘I think the nation vaguely felt it, but he put the issue clearly and as no one else had the right to do. Nowadays we are inclined to be too vague about the things that matter, and I think it well that for once someone should speak out in plain and direct words, what after all was the truth.’129
King George VI celebrated his forty-first birthday on 14 December by bestowing upon his wife the Order of the Garter. She was delighted and wrote at once to give the news to Queen Mary. Bertie, she said, ‘had discovered that Papa gave it to you on his, Papa’s, birthday June 3rd, and the coincidence was so charming that he has now followed suit’.130 His biographer pointed out there was more to it than that – it was also ‘a public declaration of gratitude and affection to one who had shared with him so bravely the burdens of the past, and was to bear with him so nobly the trials of the future’.131
Queen Mary, moved by the kind letters she had received, asked her son’s permission to issue a message of thanks to the British people.132 The King immediately gave his assent. ‘It will be such a great help to me,’ he told her.133 Cosmo Lang wrote the message for her; this time, his words were without controversy, intended both to give some credit to Queen Mary’s eldest son and to beg for support of her second. She declared that her heart had been filled with distress when her dear son laid down his charge. ‘I commend to you his brother, summoned so unexpectedly and in circumstances so painful to take his place … With him I commend my dear daughter-in-law who will be his Queen. May she receive the same unfailing affection and trust which you have given to me for six and twenty years.’134
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