After two days and numerous detours to escape the press, they finally arrived at Lou Viei, at two o'clock on the morning of Sunday 6 December. Before they could drive through the gates to be welcomed by Herman and Katherine Rogers, they had to negotiate a crowd of several hundred reporters hovering outside the villa. They were completely exhausted, and Wallis felt utterly hopeless. She was separated by the English Channel and nearly a thousand miles from the man she loved, whom she now believed she would never see again. Her beloved Aunt Bessie was far away, and so was her loyal maid, Mary Burke. She was trapped behind the gates of Lou Viei; any attempt to leave would have been disastrous and possibly dangerous. How different was her predicament from the one imagined by Helen Hardinge, who telephoned her mother, Lady Milner, with the news that, 'Lord Brownlow had been the luckless companion of the flight of Mrs Simpson across France. All done for the cinema! An offer has already come from Hollywood.'93
8 'Tell us the facts, Mr Baldwin!'
Before Wallis left, she had urged Edward to make a radio broadcast to the people and put his dilemma to them. If the British people were ever to know what was in his heart and mind, she said, he must speak out without delay. She was aware, she said later, of the immense impact on public opinion of President Roosevelt's 'fireside chats', and also of the popular Christmas broadcasts by Edward's father, George V.1 She wanted him to say he would give her up - 'tell the country tomorrow I am lost to you'.2 That he adamantly refused to consider, but he seized on the idea of the broadcast. As Prince of Wales, he had made seventy-five radio broadcasts and he understood well the power of speaking to people in their own homes.' A woman who hoped that 'nothing on Earth' would stop his marriage told the King that her father, who had recently died, 'loved to hear your speeches on the Wireless also your dear Father's King George.'4 For as Sir John Reith, the Director-General of the BBC, had observed ten years before, men and women of every social class were now listening to the wireless, even in the most inaccessible regions of the country.5
The plan for Edward to speak directly to the people in this way was backed by Winston Churchill, Lord Beaverbrook and the King's solicitor, George Allen. Discussing the idea at Stornoway House, Beaverbrook's home in the St James's district of central London, all three men agreed that the King should make a broadcast and that it would win public support.6
A broadcast was also recommended in many of the letters for Edward that arrived each day from the general public. 'A Royal Broadcast... a "man to man" radio talk is better than camouflaged newspaper reports', urged one writer, 'May You and the lady of your choice be very happy.'7 A man in Somerset went to the trouble of writing a draft speech for the King, in case it was of any use.8 'Frankly we would all far rather you married any one at all than left us,' said a letter from Kent, 'let alone somebody you love and she makes you happy. Can you speak to us over the wireless . . . What we all want to know is what you are feeling, not what the MPs and the papers tell us.' The letter added,
Though this is only a village it has every kind of opinion in it, but everyone is agreed for once - we would all rather anything happened than that you should go . . . There are thousands of villages like us all over the country. Remember us when you are deciding.'
A London caretaker reminded the King of the time when 'you gave me a £I to help me and asked about work' for her husband. 'Now I want to help you', she wrote. 'My Lady [her employer] is in Broadcasting, and BBC. She says how you should Broadcast on Sunday to the Empire . . . it's only fair you should say what your Lady is really like and just that, to correct the lies ... I hope you will.'10 Another 'loyal and devoted subject' in London urged him to
Override all argument and opposition, broadcast to your Empire if necessary, remembering that the critical opinions of ministers and press are not necessarily those of your people.
Incidentally, such an Anglo-American bond would do more for world peace than anything before in history. God bless you Sir, and your gracious Queen to be."
From America, too, came advice to broadcast to the people. 'Congratulations on your reported determination to marry whom you choose, in spite of hell, high water, and Stanley Baldwin', wrote a man from New York, adding,
may I call to your attention the example of our American President. A majority of our newspapers oppose him. But he steps to a microphone, and over their heads he speaks to the people of America. A frank statement of your belief that a king's private life is as much his own affair as a commoner, would end this whole silly business for all time.12
A man in Ontario, Canada, suggested that Wallis should broadcast. 'Could she speak to us through a Radio (Wireless) broadcast or in some such way', he asked, 'as she would be our Queen.'11
Alone without Wallis and desperately worried about her safety, it was difficult for Edward to concentrate. However, he settled down to the challenge of drafting a speech. He wanted it to be dignified, but to convey the strength of his love for Wallis. After the broadcast, he thought, he would go abroad - to give people time to make up their minds and to allow himself a brief withdrawal from the 'overheated atmosphere'.14 He arranged for aeroplanes to stand by, ready to take him away after the broadcast.15 Once he had written a draft, he gave it to Allen to take to Churchill and Beaverbrook, with a request for improvements. They made several suggestions, but suspected that Baldwin would never allow the King to make the broadcast. They strongly recommended that, though the King should read the draft to Baldwin, he should on no account give him a copy.16
Edward went to Buckingham Palace for a meeting with Baldwin, asking for permission to speak to the public on the airwaves. The Prime Minister replied that he would call a special Cabinet meeting the following morning to discuss the matter. At the meeting a draft of the broadcast was read to the Cabinet, which meant that somehow or other Baldwin had obtained a copy (in his memoirs, years later, Edward wrote that he could not remember whether he had given Baldwin a copy or not). In fact, a copy of the whole of the broadcast was sent to the Dominions in a telegram on 4 December at 10.30 p.m.1' 'I could not go on', the draft began, 'bearing the heavy burdens that constantly rest on me as King, unless I could be strengthened in the task by a happy married life; and so I am firmly resolved to marry the woman I love, when she is free to marry me.' Edward referred specifically to Wallis and argued the case for a morganatic marriage - that neither Mrs Simpson nor himself had 'ever sought to insist that she should be Queen. All we desired was that our married happiness should carry with it a proper title and dignity for her, befitting my wife.' He concluded by saying that he would go away, giving the nation time to think, hoping dearly to be able to return, I shall always have a deep affection for my Country, for the Empire, and for you all.' Underneath the draft of the speech which was kept with government papers there is a pencilled 'No word about abdication'; this was presumably written by one of Baldwin's advisors.18
The Cabinet's answer, when it came the next day, 4 December, was a resounding 'no'.19 It was unanimously decided, recorded Chamberlain in his diary, that it would be impossible to allow Edward, while he was King, to broadcast or make any public utterance which had not been approved by his Ministers, 'since constitutionally they must be responsible for his words'.20 Baldwin offered this explanation in a letter to the King, adding that
Apparent exceptions to the rule that the King's public utterances must be such as are approved by his Ministers (such as King George's Christmas message) are not really exceptions at all. In such cases Ministers are willing to give an experienced Monarch who thoroughly understands and has always strictly observed Constitutional limitations, a discretion as to what he would say, and are content to take full responsibility knowing well that the Monarch would say nothing of which His Ministers would not approve.
There was a further principle, Baldwin warned: a broadcast by the King would divide his subjects.21 With this statement, Baldwin revealed some doubts about his claim that he had public opinion behind him.
At this point Edward could have
made an effort to communicate with Sir John Reith, to find some other way of speaking to the nation. In fact, though Edward would not have known this, such an attempt would not have succeeded. For Reith had assured Baldwin of his full backing of the Government's position.22 Indeed, the Director-General had telephoned Sir Godfrey Thomas twice on 3 December - at 7.00 p.m. and again at midnight - to point out that the BBC could broadcast any official statement, or anything the Prime Minister might find helpful, 'not only at home but also to the Empire, at any hour of day'. He said he would be pleased to be given any official statement direct.23
But Edward did not contact Reith or anybody else who could have helped him to broadcast his appeal to the nation. He behaved throughout the crisis honourably and with strict propriety - and simply obeyed orders. One of the reasons for this may have been the strict sense of discipline drummed into him during his years at school. He had been sent away to Naval College: first to Osborne, when he was thirteen, and then to Dartmouth. Boarding school may have provided some respite from Palace routine, but it was a harsh and, at times, merciless environment. It was especially difficult for Prince Edward and for Prince Albert, who followed his elder brother when he was old enough. At first they were picked on by the other boys, and they had to prove that despite their royal status they had no airs and graces. They were not given any privileges: both were treated the same as other cadets, sleeping in dormitories, living in gunrooms, working and playing games with the rest of their 'Terms'.24
The historian A. J. P. Taylor has commented that 'duty was the deciding factor' in Edward's behaviour. If 'they' thought that Edward should not marry a divorced woman, he explained, 'it was his duty to accept this ruling, just as the ex-servicemen, whose representative he was supposed to be, had once gone blindly to the slaughter when instructed to do so by their officers.' It was 'Edward's weakness', added Taylor, that he shared this feeling. In his view, Edward 'was not the man to shatter the Establishment, at best only to niggle at it.'25 The British emphasis on duty, wrote one of Edward's subjects to the King, was too prevalent and also harmful. 'In England,' she said, 'there are many unhappy hearts because duty is put first: we are too strictly duty bound: Follow your heart, marry the lady of your choice, God bless her ... I am so divinely happy in my marriage, that I feel I must wish you, all happiness & love - ,'2" Edward's weakness was not simply an acceptance of duty, however. It was also an extreme manifestation of chivalry. He was so very chivalrous - to the woman he loved, to the ordinary people and to the Government - as to be quixotic.
This made him incapable of taking on shrewder minds such as Baldwin and Dawson.
Edward did possess a natural intelligence. He took an interest in languages and spoke Spanish and German fluently. He had a remarkable memory, as did his mother, Queen Mary, and 'knows hundreds of facts', observed Nancy Mitford.27 Cecil Beaton was impressed by the King's mind when he met him in November 1936:
He knows an enormous amount of general knowledge, never forgets names, knows statistics and really has the mind of the average man par excellence. He will be a very popular King and one cannot help respecting him. His quips and sallies were trite and often vulgar .. . but he has no pettiness, no interest in gossip and gossip of personalities.28
But Edward was in no way an intellectual: he did not reflect at length on issues or try to develop an understanding of them through reading. Rather, he reacted in a direct and straightforward - and sometimes naive - way to any situation in which he found himself.
While the King was waiting to hear whether he would be allowed to speak to the nation, Baldwin decided to make a public announcement to the House of Commons. He was growing anxious about the attitude of the general public, as a telegram sent to the Dominion prime ministers on Friday, 4 December revealed. 'Situation here has become in many ways much more serious,' he warned. He explained that, the evening before, he had spoken to the King, who had made it clear that he still wanted a morganatic marriage and to stay on the throne. 'A section of the popular press is also canvassing the idea', he reported, and although he felt certain that such a course was not acceptable to the majority of people in the country, 'nevertheless a weekend campaign in favour of it is obviously from every point of view extremely undesirable.' The Cabinet had therefore decided that he should make a statement on the matter to the House of Commons that afternoon, before it adjourned until Monday. In this statement, he told the Dominion prime ministers, he would explain that the Government had no choice but to refuse the King's request. He would also say that it would be unacceptable to the Dominions. 'I feel this is an essential part of the statement', he explained. 'I greatly regret not being able to consult you prior to statement being made but feel that you will understand need for urgent action.'29
Through a speech in the House of Commons, which would be aired by the BBC, Baldwin may have hoped to keep control of the media spotlight; if so, he reckoned without the newsreels in the cinema. For while he was giving to the nation the Government's account of the crisis, the newsreels were offering close-ups of the handsome king, with visual reminders of his concern for the unemployed and his trip to South Wales. There were close-up photographs, too, of Wallis Simpson: beautiful and elegant like Gracie Fields, Greta Garbo and Norma Shearer, the most popular women film stars. None of the newsreels denied that there was a crisis going on, but they presented it in terms of a compelling love story - 'the soul-rending drama being fought out in the solitude of Fort Belvedere'. To be placed in the position of 'having to choose between love and a throne', observed British Movietone News, 'is one of life's most tragic dilemmas.'30 And many people drew a clear distinction between good (Edward and Wallis) and bad (the Church of England and the Government). Letters came to the King from abroad, as well as Britain, comparing the two camps. 'Last night in the Paris Daily Mail of Friday December 4,' said a letter from Trieste, 'a sweet face confronted me, dressed in Quaker simplicity - on the other side, the narrow-eyed, time-serving photo of the Bishop of Bradfield [sic].'31 'When the news reels here in New York show your picture,' wrote a woman from New York, 'there is much applause. When they show Stanley Baldwin there are hisses.'32
It is unlikely that Baldwin and his colleagues saw the newsreels, as they were so busy and preoccupied. In any case, many men and women of their class generally looked upon the cinema as vulgar and common. Even worse, it was seen to represent the baleful influence of America, as most of the feature films shown in Britain and the Empire were from the USA.33 'England has become Americanized', complained Lady Londonderry in her memoir, Retrospect, which was published in 1938. 'Now,' she said, 'the young English gentleman, or man about town, more frequently than not tries to appear in his dress and manners as an American tourist.' It would seem, she objected, 'as if there had been a process of levelling down everywhere. A modern young woman's aim, in these days, is to look as much like her pet film star as she can.'34
The reaction of cinema-goers in the first week of December 1936 offered a clear indication of the widespread support for Edward from ordinary people. It was then customary for the National Anthem to be played both at the start and at the end of the programme, and the audience was expected to stand in respect for their monarch. 'Dear "Neddy" don't let us down', wrote a woman from Liverpool. 'You should see the way the poor commoners stand to attention at the theatre or pictures when the National Anthem is sung. They all join in Jew, Christian, any denomination. It's an inspiration. Please don't desert us. We all love you so much.' She urged him to 'Stick to your guns like you did in the great War. Take a humble subject's advice. Choose who you like for a wife and be hanged to them but, don't run away. We will all love you better if you stay. I think she is true blue by her photos. You know who!!'35 A 'poor mother of ten children' living in York said she had 'watched your picture on the screen with tears in my eyes', adding that she and her family 'pray hard for your Love and Happiness with the sweet Lady Mrs Simpson. She I am sure will be your loving & faithful companion in your darkest hour.'36 'I ha
ve just returned from a cinema where the National Anthem was heartily clapped', wrote a woman from Knightsbridge in London. 'Your people trust you.'3,
Winston Churchill made a friendly reference to the King at a rearmament meeting in the Albert Hall on the evening of 3 December (this was the first great meeting of the 'Arms and the Covenant' movement, which had been set up by Churchill, Lady Violet Bonham Carter and some others to strengthen the League of Nations and British defence). Churchill's reference to Edward drew a storm of applause. He made his own feelings clear to the audience. In a few minutes, he told them, they were going to sing God Save the King:
I shall sing it with more heartfelt fervour than I have ever sung it in my life. I hope and pray that no irrevocable decision will be taken in haste, but that time and public opinion will be allowed to play their part and that a cherished and unique personality may not be incontinently severed from the people he loves so well.'
Baldwin gave his speech to the House of Commons in the late afternoon of 4 December, a cold and wintry day." 'The Royal Marriages Act of 1772', he said, 'has no application to the Sovereign himself. Its only effect is that marriage of any other member of the Royal Family is null and void unless the Sovereign's consent declared under The Great Seal is first obtained. This Act therefore has nothing to do with the present case.' Therefore, he explained, 'The King himself requires no consent from any other authority to make his marriage legal.' But whomsoever he married, he added, must become Queen. 'Suggestions have appeared in certain organs of the press yesterday and again today', he acknowledged, 'that if the King decided to marry, his wife need not become Queen.' But these ideas were without any constitutional foundation - 'There is no such thing as what is called morganatic marriage known to our law.' Consequently, the wife of the King must enjoy 'all status, rights and privileges which both by positive law and by custom attaches to that position, and her children would be in direct line of succession to the Throne.' The only possible way in which this result could be avoided, Baldwin argued, would be by legislation dealing with a particular case. However, 'His Majesty's Government are not prepared to introduce such legislation. Moreover the matters to be dealt with are of common concern to the Commonwealth as a whole and such a change could not be effected without the assent of all Dominions. I am satisfied from enquiries I have made that this assent would not be forthcoming.'4" Implicit in this account by Baldwin was the possibility that the King might defy his Ministers - that he might insist on his right to marry and to remain as King. By so doing, he would compel the Government to resign. However, the King had not given anyone the impression that he might choose to act in this way.
The Peoples King Page 19