(1) The King's marriage to Mrs Simpson, she to become Queen.
(2) The King's marriage to Mrs Simpson without abdication but on the basis that she should not become Queen, and accompanied by the necessary legislation on this basis.
(3) A voluntary abdication by the King carried out in favour of the Duke of York.'56
The Dominion prime ministers were advised that at a later stage they would be asked to consult their respective cabinets. In the meantime, said Baldwin, he would appreciate their personal views and their thoughts on how the public in their Dominion might view the matter. To maintain strict secrecy, special arrangements were made to encode and decode the messages by trusted staff. All the telegrams were marked 'Secret and Personal' and bore the special prefix 'A'. In the course of the crisis, 333 telegrams on the subject were despatched from the Dominions Office and 90 were received in reply.57
Beaverbrook was appalled when he heard that the King had not even seen the text of the cables to the Dominion prime ministers. 'Sir,' he exclaimed, 'you have put your head on the execution block. All that Mr Baldwin has to do now is to swing the axe.'58 Certainly there was nothing whatsoever in the telegrams that put the King's case. On the other hand, Baldwin made his own view - that neither of the first two choices were realistic options - very clear. 'I feel convinced', he stated in the telegram, that neither the Parliament nor the great majority of the public in all parties here should or would accept such a plan [for a morganatic marriage], any more than they would accept the proposal that Mrs Simpson should become Queen. Moreover, I think it very probable that if such an arrangement were agreed now, it would prove to be temporary and that later on pressure would be brought to bear with a view to the King's wife being given her position as Queen.59
'The ball had been passed to the Dominions and they were busily returning it', wrote Dawson in his diary on 29 November.60 But another ball was being tossed around in London. In need of reassurance, Dawson decided to ring Stanley Bruce, the Australian High Commissioner, who was said to be lying ill at his house in London. 'I talked to Mrs. B[ruce], who said that the doctors had forbidden him to see a soul; but a little later she telephoned to say it would do him less harm to have a talk than to worry over what I might have to say.' He went to see Bruce, who was able to confirm that the Australian Prime Minister, Joseph Lyons, was completely behind Baldwin. Dawson was pleased. 'My enforced stay in London', he was relieved to note in his diary, 'may not have been altogether useless after all.'61
In the royal household, tensions had reached an unbearable level. The week after the visit to South Wales 'was horrible', said Edward's equerry, Charles Lambe. 'Everyone looked ill and desperate and old and spoke in whispers. Up to then I knew no details.' One evening, Mountbatten explained to him that the King was determined to marry Wallis. 'All that week I had nightmares', he wrote in the notes he was keeping at the time, I woke sometimes terrified, sometimes angry, and sometimes just unutterably miserable. There was nobody to speak to except Dickie [Mountbatten]. The subject just wasn't discussed in the Palace and one just had to wait and think.' Because he was 'emotionally exhausted', he went to an afternoon matinee of the film Romeo & Juliet, and was 'profoundly moved'.62
Meanwhile, Edward's own 'Juliet' was becoming increasingly distressed. The King told her little about what was going on, and she felt that he had become withdrawn, even from her. This left her with the alarming sense of having no control over her own situation or her future. Society appeared to hate her, now that they realized Edward wanted to marry her, not just keep her as his mistress. She and Bessie saw strangers loitering on the pavement outside their house in Regents Park, watching them. Among them may have been an operative or two sent by Special Branch to gather information for Superintendent Canning. Journalists, too, are likely to have lurked outside the house.
Hostile letters were arriving, both signed and anonymous, including one that threatened:
Had you been living 2.00 years ago means would have been found to rid the country of you, but no one seems to possess the courage required to send you back to the United States. It has fallen to my lot as a patriot to kill you. This is a solemn warning. I will do so.63
Wallis felt ready to believe the warnings she had received from Lady Londonderry and others - that the people of Britain would never put up with a marriage between the King and herself. She started to feel a 'mounting menace in the very atmosphere':
It was by now almost impossible for me to get about the streets without strangers turning to stare ... It was as if some mysterious and silent means of communication was carrying the story of the hidden crisis into ever-widening circles of the British public.64
In fact, it was still the case that very few people had even heard of Wallis. But from her isolated position, unable to influence the development of events, the glances of strangers must have seemed as terrible as the bitter condemnation of whole crowds. She was later to declare that she 'did not know England very well, and the English not at all.'63 In England in the autumn of 1936, she must have felt very much an outsider - a foreigner in a culture she could not understand.
Ill with worry, Wallis made plans to get away. 'Darling Sybil,' she wrote on 30 November to Sybil Colefax, 'I have been put to bed for a week's true isolation policy - I am very tired with - and of it all - and my heart resents the strain so I am to lie quiet.' She was making plans, she said, to leave London:
I am planning quite by myself to go away for a while -1 think everybody here would like that - except one person perhaps - but I am constructing a clever means of escape - after awhile my name will be forgotten by the people and only two people will suffer instead of a mass of people who aren't interested anyway in individuals feelings but only the workings of a system. I have decided to risk [?] the result of leaving because it is an uncomfortable feeling to remain stopping in a house when the hostess has tired of me as a guest.
I shall see you before I fold my tent - much love - Wallis.66
To Foxy Gwynne, another close woman friend, she sent a similar message. A small trip away, she hoped, would 'give it all time to die down - perhaps returning when that d—d crown has been firmly placed.'67
Churchill, Duff Cooper and Beaverbrook, who were liaising with one another in their efforts to keep Edward on the throne, also thought it would be a good idea for Wallis to go away for a time. This would arrest the speed at which the crisis was developing and allow it to settle down - and the King to be crowned. But Edward, who could hardly bear Wallis to be out of his sight, was not willing to let her go. Instead, when he heard on Friday 27 November of a plot to blow up her house, he sent a note telling Wallis and her aunt to come immediately to the Fort, where they would be safe. Once she was installed at the Fort, Wallis began to comprehend the magnitude of the crisis and was utterly dismayed. The telephone rang constantly, the faces of the servants were drawn, and there were 'constant comings and goings, between the Fort and London, of advisers, aides, and courtiers.'68
Meanwhile, Baldwin and his Ministers took steps to shift the balance of public opinion in the Government's favour, both at home and in the Empire. They still assumed that Edward would abdicate, even though Edward had now decided against this in favour of a morganatic marriage. They met and decided that 'every effort should be made to synchronize the publication of the Message [announcing abdication] in Parliament and its publication in the Dominions. It would also be desirable, if possible, to avoid a time of publication which would enable the evening newspapers in London to criticize the event in a hostile fashion.' It would be necessary for the Press to be informed in advance in order that 'the morning newspapers might be in a position to guide public opinion' - this would, 'of course, be done in the usual manner and through the usual channels.'69 H. A. Gwynne, the editor of the Morning Post, agreed. It was important, he said, that if and when the Government found it necessary to take the public into its confidence, the Prime Minister 'should assemble all the principal Editors and explain to them the cours
e of events and the line which Ministers felt obliged to take. It was hoped in this way it might be possible to avoid a press cleavage.'70
On 2 December, Baldwin was due to see the King for a fourth interview, exactly one week after their last meeting. He prepared the ground for this interview at a Cabinet meeting in the morning, proposing to tell the King that 'the Cabinet were not prepared to introduce the necessary bill to legalise the morganatic marriage.' Everyone agreed to this, with the exception of Duff Cooper, who made another vain plea for delay.'1 Walter Monckton was summoned to 10 Downing Street and told of the Cabinet's decision, which he relayed to the King. Writing about this meeting in his diary, Ramsay MacDonald expressed some anxiety about what would happen when the British people actually found out what was going on. Unlike Baldwin, he was not convinced that all the electorate would support the position of the Cabinet:
I share the PM's views that the country when the issue has been put fairly before it will uphold the Cabinet, but not his optimism that it will be practically unanimous. To underestimate the resources of the King (the PM believes his word that he will abdicate without trouble, whilst I doubt it), Beaverbrook & very likely Churchill, would be a mistake.72
MacDonald was the only man in the Cabinet from a working-class background: he had been raised in a cottage in the Scottish Highlands, the son of a single mother who had been a domestic servant. This background may have given him a keener sense than his colleagues of the likely reaction to the royal crisis of people who were outside the circles of the elite.
In the evening, Baldwin went to Fort Belvedere to see the King, and reported that his enquiries into the views of the Dominion prime ministers were not yet complete. He added, however, that the enquiries had gone far enough to indicate that no support would be forthcoming for a morganatic marriage. To support this statement, he produced a strongly worded telegram from Prime Minister Lyons of Australia, who opposed both alternatives to abdication. Baldwin said that he regarded this telegram as a clear indication of the position of the Dominions. For years afterwards he maintained that the 'decisive factor was the uncompromising stand of the Dominion Premiers, and especially of the Prime Minister of Australia.'75 Baldwin also told Edward at this meeting that General Hertzog of South Africa had expressed opposition to the marriage.
Baldwin's answer to Edward was not entirely honest or straightforward, however. At 2.40 a.m. on 2 December, the day Baldwin met with Edward, he had received a telegram from Michael Savage, the Labour Prime Minister of New Zealand, backing the plan for a morganatic marriage. It rejected the idea of Wallis becoming Queen, but affirmed that 'The great affection felt in New Zealand for His Majesty and the desire of the people in this country for his happiness inspire the thought that some such arrangement might be possible.' There could be insuperable obstacles, but 'if some solution along these lines were found to be practicable it would no doubt be acceptable to the majority of the people of New Zealand.' Savage concluded by saying that because of the 'enormous popularity of the King with both races in Zealand - Pakeha and Maoris', a decision to abdicate would be received with the deepest regret; but if this were the only course open, the Dominion would be guided by the decision of the Home Government.74 The Governor-General sent a telegram to London explaining that his Prime Minister's assessment of public opinion was based on the King's popularity among all classes in New Zealand after Edward's tour of 1920, and his belief that Edward's personality was much more inspiring than the Duke of York's.
The Prime Minister of Canada, William Lyon Mackenzie King, was hesitant. It was his personal view that neither Parliament nor public opinion in Canada would accept Mrs Simpson as Queen or as the morganatic wife of the King. On these grounds, he believed that a voluntary abdication would be the 'honourable and right course for the King to pursue'. But he emphasized that such an abdication must be voluntary: Were it believed King's abdication were something imposed by his Ministers (or were such in fact the case) solely because of His Majesty's intended or actual marriage to Mrs Simpson, and not a step voluntarily proposed by His Majesty himself for reasons of State, the whole matter would, 1 believe, be very differently regarded. Public opinion would be sharply divided.
'Sympathy with the King in his desire as a man to marry the woman of his choice', he added, 'will be widespread, if indeed it will not be universal.76 Mackenzie King had already indicated his sympathy for the King, when he had been in London in October and resisted several appeals from members of the court to approach the King about the harm he was doing to the Empire. On I December, the High Commissioner sent a message to London: 'I think it my duty to tell you that in my opinion [Mackenzie King] is unduly influenced by what he describes as King's obligations to Mrs Simpson.'77
The Irish Free State sent no response at this stage, though the Prime Minister, Eamon de Valera, had made it clear that his own position was one of detachment. He told Sir Harry Batterbee, who had brought him the message from Baldwin, that 'at first blush' he was inclined to favour the option of a morganatic marriage. He pointed out that Edward was undoubtedly popular everywhere including Ireland, and he thought that 'every avenue ought to be explored before he was excluded from the Throne.' It was true, he acknowledged, that divorce was not recognized in Catholic countries, but Edward was a Protestant king of a Protestant country with different divorce laws and different attitudes to divorce. 'Many - especially young people - throughout the Empire would, in these democratic days, be attracted by the idea of a young King ready to give up all for love.'78
Sir Harry was surprised by de Valera's reaction, and also by the fact that it was shared by John Whelan Dulanty, the Irish Ambassador to London, and Mr Walshe, another advisor, who were both present for most of the meeting. He tried to persuade them that the United Kingdom public saw things differently from the Irish public and would not tolerate the King marrying a woman 'of the nature of Mrs Simpson'. Caesar's wife, he said, 'must be above suspicion'. Eamon de Valera replied that if that were so, he supposed there was nothing for it but abdication.79
Baldwin did not explain to Edward the details of the replies from New Zealand, Canada, and the Irish Free State. But he told him there was little hope, given the opinions of the Dominion leaders, of pressing on with his plan for a morganatic marriage. The King was in a very weak position. Indeed, his position was now far weaker than it had been before the visit to South Wales, for his Government had now been formally consulted and had given 'advice' - which he was bound to accept. In every way, the plan for a morganatic marriage had turned out to be a mistake. It required legislation which the Government refused to introduce. And it had removed Edward's great strength - that constitutionally, he was entitled to marry anyone he liked, except a Roman Catholic.
The King replied to Baldwin's report on the Dominion premiers with a request. He said firmly that he wanted Parliament to be consulted. For even though Baldwin and the National Government had a majority - and the Labour and Liberal leaders had agreed not to oppose the Government on this issue - they by no means spoke for all elected MPs. Representative of the electorate, Parliament was the proper and best channel for a full exploration of the views and reactions of the citizens of Britain.
In his memoirs, Edward later recorded this conversation between himself and the Prime Minister:
'What about Parliament?' I asked.
'The answer would, 1 am sure, be the same.'
'But Parliament has not been consulted', I persisted. 'The issue has never been presented.'
He answered, unruffled, I have caused inquiries to be set afoot in the usual manner. The response has been such as to convince my colleagues and myself that the people would not approve of Your Majesty's marriage with Mrs Simpson.'80
Baldwin never explained the nature of these enquiries. By 'the usual manner', he probably meant consultations with Government MPs through the whips and with party managers of the Opposition. This was standard practice: such consultations are designed to give a picture of what is thought by th
e House of Commons, political associations and the leaders of local communities. Baldwin would be entitled to express confidence in their reliability. But the views of these people are not necessarily the same as the views of the ordinary people, especially in such a socially divided nation as Britain in 1936. Baldwin, his Government - and Edward and Wallis too - had yet to find out what the general public thought about the idea of the King marrying an American woman, twice divorced.
7 'The People want their King'
At 4.30 p.m. on Tuesday, 2 December, news editors in Fleet Street were springing from their chairs and shouting, 'It's begun! Look at this!' They had been waiting for months for the story of Edward and Wallis to break, and now there was a definite sign that it was about to happen. The Press Association tape machine was flashing through the news that the Bishop of Bradford, Dr Blunt, had publicly uttered words of reproof to the King in the course of an address at the Bradford Diocesan Conference.1 Criticizing the outspoken Bishop of Birmingham for his suggestion that the coronation should be secularized, Blunt had declared that
The benefit of the King's Coronation depends, under God, upon two elements: First, on the faith, prayer, and self-dedication of the King himself, and on that it would be improper for me to say anything except to commend him, and ask you to commend him, to God's grace, which he will so abundantly need, as we all need it - for the King is a man like ourselves - if he is to do his duty faithfully.
He added, piously, 'We hope that he is aware of his need. Some of us wish that he gave more positive signs of his awareness.'2 The address was reported in the Yorkshire Post and picked up quickly by some other provincial papers. The Birmingham Post commented that nobody, cleric or layman, had thought fit to address such words of reproof to the King of England for hundreds of years.' Readers were astonished to learn that a bishop of the Church of England had rebuked the King, and in such a gratuitous way. A man who was the same age as the King and worked in his family's linen business in Belfast described his own reaction in his diary on I December: 'A little paragraph appeared in paper tonight,' he wrote, 'recording speech made by Bishop Blunt about the leaving out of the Communion Service from the Coronation Service. He is against the leaving of it out, & said one would wish that the King would give a little more evidence of his regard for religious duties!'4 From a village in Sussex, a seventy-year-old woman wrote to the Palace on 2 December in indignation at the Bishop. 'Who made him a judge & a ruler?! Does he follow the teaching of Jesus Christ in dressing up in expensive robes & a mitre?' She was Church of England, she added, but thought that there was 'so much humbug in it' - and that if the bishop came to her neighbourhood, she would 'protest against him, even if I were turned out of the church.'5 A man in Glasgow made the following rather desperate offer to the King:
The Peoples King Page 16