The Princess received thousands of sympathetic letters and Jean Rankin helped her to reply to them. One was from her former teacher, Toni de Bellaigue, to whom the Princess was devoted. Jean Rankin wrote to her, ‘She is absolutely wonderful about it all. Fortunately they both decided at the same time that they could not marry & so there was not the agony of one changing. Since they reached this decision some days before it was announced – they have both become progressively more sure.’ She said that the Princess, having been through agonies, was ‘amazingly calm now’ but she expected there would be a reaction at some time. ‘It seemed too much for any person to bear – this hideous publicity – and criticism. Our newspapers are really abominable … Queen Elizabeth looks very tired. The strain of these last weeks is telling.’183
Three weeks later Princess Margaret herself wrote to Toni de Bellaigue. ‘I must tell you quickly that Peter and I are calm & rather peacefully happy’ – because they had both decided ‘at exactly the same second that we couldn’t get married. That was it – we did it together, so you see instead of feeling it a tremendous wrench, we were in fact joined even more strongly together by the fact that our love had been strong enough to enable us to take the more difficult course, and there we were, & our love had triumphed, in a way neither of us had ever dreamt could give us any satisfaction or happiness. But it has.’ Her faith, she said, had helped both of them: ‘we always dared to believe it was God’s love we were given a little of to love with, only we thought he meant us to marry – until we found out it was not so. Then, all our love, and what we had tried to do by it might have seemed in vain. But by the strength we were given to make this decision and the feeling of renewal we felt after it, we think humbly, that perhaps this is what He ordained.’184
Queen Elizabeth had escaped for a night to the peace and calm of St Paul’s Walden with her brother David.185 She also spent a weekend with the Salisburys in Dorset in mid-November (if she knew of Bobbety’s hostility to Princess Margaret’s abandoned plans, she no doubt respected his views), and wrote to them afterwards saying, ‘you give me fresh courage when I see you. I felt so dreadfully shattered in mind & body after that agonising experience over darling Margaret.’186 She wrote a kind letter to Peter Townsend, for which he thanked her, and he assured her that he would give Princess Margaret every help in remaking her life. ‘I know that she now feels a great peace of mind in having reached the right decision, and so do I … I hope Your Majesty will be able to realise how conscious I have felt of your understanding throughout a time which has given you so much anxiety.’187
The problem now for Princess Margaret, as her mother, her sister and other members of the family understood, was to find ways for her to occupy her time. She enjoyed an income of £5,000 a year from the Civil List, in return for which she carried out the public duties of a junior member of the Royal Family; she was colonel-in-chief of several regiments and patron of a number of charities, including the Royal Ballet, which became one of her most important and enduring interests.
After the Princess’s final separation from Townsend, she was undoubtedly bereft and did not find it easy to confide her feelings to other members of her family. In the autumn of 1956 she undertook a trip to the Indian Ocean in Britannia to visit Mauritius, Zanzibar, Tanganyika and Kenya. She still had moments of misery, but was, she said, cheered by her mother’s telephone calls and ‘glorious’ letters which made her laugh out loud. Yet she still hankered after Townsend and periodically felt depressed, as she told her mother in a letter written towards the end of her trip.188
After her return, she and her mother continued living together at Clarence House. This was not an ideal arrangement for either of them; Princess Margaret considered having a house of her own but rejected it, she said, on grounds of both loneliness and expense. ‘It may come, but of course I might marry someone.’189
* The Regency Act of 1937, amended in 1943, required the appointment, in the event of the Sovereign’s illness or temporary absence from the country, of Counsellors of State, who were to be the Sovereign’s spouse and the four persons of full age next in line to the Throne. Queen Elizabeth, of course, fulfilled neither requirement.
† In June 1953 a spurious link was fostered by the press between this change and Princess Margaret’s private life – the story of her romance with Peter Townsend had just broken. In fact the changes to the Regency Act had been in preparation well before this.
* The Korean War began in June 1950 with the invasion of South Korea by the communist North. The brutal conflict became a Cold War battleground with China and the Soviet Union supporting the North and the United States, Britain and other nations fighting for the South under the flag of the United Nations. An armistice was declared in July 1953 but the two Koreas remained in a state of permanent hostility thereafter, and in May 2009 the armistice was abrogated by the North.
* Of Queen Elizabeth’s six brothers, Alec (the third) had died in 1911 aged twenty-four, Fergus (the fourth) in 1915 aged twenty-six, Jock (the second) in 1930 aged forty-three and Patrick (the eldest) in 1949 aged fifty-four.
* The Federation collapsed on 31 December 1963 because black African nationalists continued to demand greater power than the dominant white populations were prepared to concede. Northern Rhodesia achieved independence as the new nation of Zambia, Nyasaland became Malawi, and Southern Rhodesia (by an illegal and unilateral declaration of independence in 1965) became Rhodesia, but still under white rule. When Rhodesia won full independence in 1981 the new government changed its name to Zimbabwe.
† Her trips abroad in the next twenty years included: 1954, the United States and Canada; 1956, France; 1957, the Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland; 1958, Canada, Honolulu, Fiji, Australia and New Zealand, Mauritius, Uganda, Malta; 1959, Kenya and Uganda, Italy and France; 1960, the Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland; 1961, Tunisia; 1962, Canada; 1963, France; 1964, the Caribbean; 1965, Jamaica, France, Canada and Germany; 1966, Canada, Honolulu, Fiji, Australia and New Zealand; 1967, Canada. She made some twenty-four more official tours abroad, and several semi-private trips involving official engagements, over the years until 1989.
* See note on this page.
† Catherine Peebles, the children’s governess from 1953 to 1968, who had previously taught the Gloucester Princes and Prince Michael of Kent.
* Britannia replaced the Victoria and Albert, which had been withdrawn from service in 1937 before acting as an accommodation ship in Portsmouth. She was broken up in 1954.
* Sir Pierson Dixon (1904–65), British diplomat. Permanent Representative of the United Kingdom to the United Nations 1954–60, Ambassador to France 1960–4.
* William Euan Wallace (1927–77), son of Captain Euan Wallace MP, Conservative politician, and his wife Barbara, daughter of the architect Sir Edwin Lutyens. A debonair man about town, he remained a good friend of Princess Margaret. He married Elizabeth Hoyer Millar in 1965.
† Hon. Dominic Elliot (b. 1931), son of fifth Earl of Minto. He too was a good friend of the Princess for many years. He married Countess Marianne Esterházy in 1962.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
FAVOURITES
1956–1960
‘That’s racing’
THE GRAND NATIONAL has long been one of Britain’s greatest horseraces, and certainly its most dramatic. While the Derby, run every summer at Epsom, is the most important flat race of the year, the National, which takes place at the end of every winter, at Aintree, near Liverpool, is the most eagerly awaited over jumps. It is a punishing and unpredictable steeplechase, and many of its obstacles – Becher’s Brook, the Chair, the Canal Turn – have become household names. The race is often run over ground made heavy by winter rains; horses frequently fall and there are sometimes fatalities. There is something gladiatorial about the challenge of the race – and the watching of it.
In 1956 the race had a relatively small field of twenty-nine runners.1 Among them was a strongly built ten-year-old Irish-bred horse named Devo
n Loch who had a distinguishing white star on his forehead. He was trained by Peter Cazalet, one of the top trainers in the country. His jockey was Dick Francis, a superb rider.* His owner was the Queen Mother. And on 24 March she came with the Queen and Princess Margaret to watch him run. He started at odds of 100/7 and there were high hopes that he would win.
By the Canal Turn on the second circuit of the course, Francis was lying second and felt sure he could now carry the day. He eased off. ‘Never before in the National had I held back a horse and said, “Steady boy”. Never had I felt such power in reserve, such confidence in my mount, such calm in my mind.’2 After the last fence Francis just let the horse go and Devon Loch rushed towards the finishing post, leaving the next horse, ESB, ten lengths behind.3 The roar of the crowds in the stands, happy that the Queen Mother was within yards of victory, was stupendous. On top of the stand the royal party was beside itself with excitement, joining in the cheers, gripped by the tension and the thrill of imminent victory. Then, disaster. Suddenly Devon Loch pricked back his ears; his back legs stiffened and splayed – and he ‘pancaked’ on to the ground. Horrified, Francis tried to gather him up and urge him along the last few yards to the post, but Devon Loch could hardly move and ESB passed him to win.
It was a terrible moment for jockey, trainer and owner. Like her daughters and almost everyone else at Aintree, the Queen Mother was appalled. But she knew how to deal with disappointment. ‘I must go down and comfort those poor people,’ she said.4 ‘Please don’t be upset,’ she said to Francis. ‘That’s racing.’5* She never liked to speak of the incident again.
*
THE PASSION for steeplechasing came relatively late to Queen Elizabeth. But it became a vital part of her life, particularly after the death of the King. The Royal Family has had an interest in horses and in racing since the days of Queen Elizabeth I. But they had almost always concentrated on flat racing. In 1949 the King had been well enough for the family to attend Royal Ascot and, to everyone’s delight, his filly Avila won the Coronation Stakes. At a dinner at Windsor Castle that week the Queen sat next to Anthony Mildmay, a glamorous and celebrated figure in British steeplechasing since his reins broke when he was leading, only two fences from home, in the Grand National of 1936. After the war he went into partnership with his old schoolfriend Peter Cazalet to turn Cazalet’s estate, Fairlawne in Kent, into one of the best racing stables in the country. They did well. Mildmay’s special love was for steeplechasing, which had always been the poor relation of flat racing; as a result it was less dominated by business interests than the flat and attracted a more louche and amusing crowd. Mildmay judged correctly that the Queen would enjoy its devil-may-care spirit. Before the evening was out he had persuaded her and Princess Elizabeth to buy a steeplechaser together.
Mildmay and Cazalet acquired a horse called Monaveen for the two royal ladies. Cazalet saw that the eight-year-old bay gelding was brave and strong and decided he would be ideal. Most important, he thought he would be a winner. Fairlawne’s records describe Monaveen as a ‘bold jumper and a courageous horse when in front or disputing the lead’. Such winning qualities are attractive to any owner; to the Queen and the Princess, desperately concerned as they were about the health of the King, and worried by the austerity and hardships of postwar Britain, it would be a hugely welcome diversion. Cazalet had chosen well. In his first outing under Princess Elizabeth’s colours, at Fontwell Park, a charming small racecourse in Sussex, Monaveen romped home. Queen and Princess were both overjoyed, but there was a sad event that summer – Anthony Mildmay disappeared while swimming off the Devon coast. His death was a great loss, not just to the racing community.
Through the rest of 1950 Monaveen won several more races, including most importantly, the Queen Elizabeth Chase at Hurst Park. Within three months his prize money was almost three times what he had cost his owners and they both enjoyed following his outings. At the end of the year the Queen went to watch him run again at Hurst Park. She saw him off with high hopes, but in the middle of his race he fell and broke a leg. He was immediately put down. The Queen was devastated – she longed to weep but, being in public, she could not; she felt her voice cracking as she tried to control her emotion. A few days later she wrote about her sadness to Princess Elizabeth, who was with her husband in Malta. ‘Somehow, Monaveen was all mixed up with a “first venture”, & Anthony, & all the fun & excitement of last year, & sharing with you, and it seemed so sad that such a gallant & great hearted horse should have to be put to rest.’6 The Princess was equally horrified.
By now mother and daughter had decided not to own another horse together. The Princess knew that at some stage she would have to assume responsibility for the Royal Stud, and she decided to concentrate on flat racing and to expand her interest in breeding. The Queen wanted to stay with steeplechasing and, according to Princess Margaret, she was so enthusiastic about the sport that she ‘wouldn’t share with anybody now’.7
Before Monaveen’s death she had bought Manicou, and this strong and handsome horse also did her proud, winning several races within months. He was a dark bay; on his forehead he boasted a bright white star and he had two splendid white socks. Not surprisingly, she loved him. On Boxing Day 1950 the Queen decided at the last minute that she could not bear to miss seeing him run that day at Kempton Park at Sunbury on Thames, and so she ordered up her car and rushed off from Sandringham over icy winter roads.
The field was strong and she did not expect Manicou to win. But to her delight he did.8 At home, the rest of her family was enthralled – Princess Margaret recounted, ‘We all nearly died with our ears glued to the wireless!’9 On the way back in the dark the Queen’s driver had to deal with thick fog as well as icy roads; they crept along with the back wheels swinging wildly. It was 8 p.m. before she got home to Sandringham. ‘But it was the greatest fun – & I loved every moment of it.’10
The roller-coaster continued. Manicou ran poorly at Kempton Park in March 1951 and her hopes were dashed when he was beaten at Cheltenham by Silver Flame. He never won another race, and then became incurably lame, a misfortune that befell several of her horses. But she remained very fond of him and at stud he sired many horses, including The Rip, who later came to be one of her favourites.11
Formal mourning after the death of the King, quite apart from her own profound grief, kept Queen Elizabeth away from the racing scene in 1952; there are few letters between her and her daughter about their mutual interest until after the Coronation in June 1953. (The Queen’s horse, Aureole, was running in the Derby at Epsom immediately after the Coronation; to the disappointment of the owner and many others he was beaten into second place.) In December that year Dick Francis rode the Queen Mother’s horse M’as-tu-vu at Lingfield. He rode a good race and thought he was well ahead in the final straight. ‘But suddenly I heard a terrific lot of noise and shouting from the sidelines, which is a thing jockeys don’t hear normally, and I thought: “My God, I’m being tackled.” I didn’t dare look round, I just sat down and rode hard for the winning post. When I’d passed it I stood up in my irons and looked round and the opposition was lengths and lengths back. It was in the early days of royal winners and the noise was just the crowd giving us a great reception.’12
When the Queen and Prince Philip set off on their long Commonwealth tour at the end of 1953, she and her mother resumed writing their equine epistles. In January 1954 the Queen Mother recounted a visit she and Princess Margaret had made to the Newmarket stables of Cecil Boyd-Rochfort, who had been the King’s trainer since 1942. She described the condition of each of their horses and ended by reverting to one of her favourites: ‘Dear Manicou looks such a picture … He has got something special, hasn’t he darling?’13
Over the next five decades, mother and daughter derived enormous pleasure from their shared passion for racing. Indeed the successes and failures of jockeys, trainers and mounts and the going at different racecourses featured large in many of their letters to each other. Wherever
they were, they exchanged the news and the gossip of the turf. As always with racing there were more disappointments than triumphs, but it was all utterly absorbing. Racing was all the more enjoyable because, unlike the routines of royal life, it was so gamey, so full of bounders, such fun, so unpredictable, so exciting. Yet at the same time, the racetrack remained reassuringly constant.
*
HER ENTHUSIASMS defined the Queen Mother. When Major Tom Harvey retired as her Private Secretary in 1951, he gave her a crystal engagement-card holder designed by Laurence Whistler and engraved with verses which summed up well her different private and public enthusiasms:
PLEASURES – A myriad to rehearse! …
The likely horse … The lucky ‘hand’ …
The leaping trout … The living verse …
The favourite waltz … The floodlit dome …
The crowds, the lights, the welcome …
– and (sweet as them all) the going home!
DUTIES! … The emblazoned document …
The microphone, while nations listen …
The moments when the ranks present …
This tape to cut … That stone to lay …
The Queen Mother Page 92