Counting One's Blessings

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Counting One's Blessings Page 27

by William Shawcross


  * Edith Helen, Marchioness of Londonderry DBE (1879–1959), wife of seventh Marquess of Londonderry. She had written to the Duchess expressing her support and suggesting that Queen Mary’s views on the King’s wish to marry Mrs Simpson should be discreetly made known in order to give the country a lead. (RA QEQM/PRIV/PAL)

  * Prime Minister Baldwin was convinced that the King had little backing in the country. However, both Beaverbrook and Rothermere, critics of Baldwin and proprietors of the Daily Express and Daily Mail respectively, backed King Edward VIII and used their newspapers to encourage support for his cause.

  † The Duchess had another of her frequent bouts of flu throughout the abdication crisis.

  * The Most Noble Order of the Garter, created in 1348, the United Kingdom’s oldest and highest order of chivalry. It is entirely in the gift of the monarch and is limited to twenty-six members, including the monarch and the Prince of Wales.

  King George VI’s official biographer, John Wheeler-Bennett, later wrote that the King’s gift of the Garter to the Queen was ‘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’. (John Wheeler-Bennett, King George VI, Macmillan, 1958, pp. 391–4)

  * The Royal Pavilion at Brighton by John Nash, 1826, with a handsome tooled and gilt purple leather binding with a full coat of arms of George IV. (RCIN 1163283) The following year Sitwell gave her Humphry Repton’s book of designs for the Pavilion (see p. 250).

  * Morshead, notes, 20 December 1936. (RA AEC/GG12) Sir Owen Morshead GCVO KCB DSO MC (1893–1977), Librarian at Windsor Castle 1926–58.

  * Sitwell had written a poem, ‘Rat Week’, for private circulation, in which he named and mocked many of those society figures who had first flattered King Edward VIII and Mrs Simpson and then jumped ship:

  Where are the friends of yesterday

  That fawned on Him,

  That flattered Her;

  Where are the friends of yesterday,

  Submitting to His every whim,

  Offering praise of Her as myrrh

  To Him?

  What do they say, that jolly crew,

  So new, and brave, and free and easy,

  What do they say, that jolly crew,

  Who must make even Judas queasy?

  ‘Rat Week’ was eventually published in book form in 1986.

  * Kenneth Clark, Lord Clark OM CH KCB FBA (1903–83), Director of the National Gallery, 1939–45; Surveyor of the King’s Pictures, 1934–44. One of the great art historians of the mid-twentieth century, he was also an inspiring broadcaster, whose television series Civilisation was first broadcast by the BBC in 1969. He was an important adviser to the Queen as she built up her own private art collection.

  * Sir Eric Maclagan KCVO CBE (1879–1951), Director of the Victoria and Albert Museum, 1924–45. An inspiring and efficient administrator, he made the museum much more accessible and pioneered the sale of postcards and replicas. His obituary in The Times spoke of ‘his fundamental honesty, sincerity and disinterestedness’.

  † Lord Gerald Wellesley, later seventh Duke of Wellington KG (1885–1972), diplomat, soldier and architect, Surveyor of the King’s Works of Art, 1936–43.

  ‡ The two marble busts, one of Charles I after Bernini, the other of William III, were placed in the Grand Vestibule of Windsor Castle.

  § Thomas Gainsborough’s three-quarter-length portrait of Anne, Duchess of Cumberland.

  ¶ Gainsborough’s The Morning Walk shows Henry Frederick, Duke of Cumberland, walking with his wife and sister-in-law.

  | ‘Dick’, the Queen’s friend Sir Richard Molyneux (see p. 187, footnote), who took an active interest in the Royal Collection, advising on matters such as picture hangs and the arrangement of rooms, especially at Windsor. The ‘hawk man’ was probably Portrait of a Man with a Hawk, attributed to the sixteenth-century Italian painter Girolamo Savoldo. (RCIN 405764)

  PART THREE

  QUEEN

  ‘Many an aching heart has found some solace in her gracious smile’

  WINSTON CHURCHILL

  On 3 June 1937, less than a month after the Coronation, the Duke of Windsor and Mrs Simpson married in France. To the dismay of Queen Mary, this was his father’s birthday. Relations within the family had deteriorated since the abdication. The King and Queen, and Prime Minister Baldwin (who retired after the Coronation), were shocked to discover that the Duke had lied to them about his financial affairs. The Duke himself was angered because his family had not allowed his wife to assume the title Her Royal Highness (HRH). This was controversial because of the general rule that a wife takes on the status of her husband – as Elizabeth Bowes Lyon had on her marriage to the Duke of York. No member of the Royal Family attended the Windsor wedding – George V’s Private Secretary, Lord Wigram, took the view that to do so ‘would be a firm nail in the coffin of monarchy’.1

  Queen Mary wrote to her daughter-in-law that the choice of date hurt her very deeply; ‘of course she did it, but how can he be so weak, I suppose it is out of revenge that none of the family is going to the wedding.’2

  At the beginning of October 1937, the Duke and Duchess visited Germany, where they met Adolf Hitler. This was ill judged. By this time, Hitler and Mussolini’s aggressive policies were already forcing Europe towards the brink of war. The King and Queen were, like the vast majority of the British people, horrified by the prospect of another war only twenty years after the last, and they fully supported the new Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain’s attempts to negotiate with Hitler. But by early 1939 they realized that Chamberlain’s efforts had failed and they became as determined as anyone that fascism had to be confronted. Their visits to Canada, New York and Washington in 1939 were intended to rally democratic support against the dictators, as was their earlier visit to France in 1938. In September 1939, after Germany invaded Poland, Britain found itself at war for the second time in a quarter of a century.

  The Queen wrote a note to herself the day after war was declared: ‘My last cup of tea in peace! My last bath at leisure; and all the time one’s mind working on many thoughts. Chiefly of the people of this country – their courage, their sense of humour; their sense of right and wrong – how will they come through the wicked things that war lets loose. One thing is, that they are at their best when things are bad, and the spirit is wonderful.’3

  In the terrible world war that lay ahead for almost six long brutal years, all that had been instilled in the Queen by her family, all that she had learned from her contact with soldiers in the First World War, and all the public skills she had acquired since her marriage, she put to fine use for the country. She made it clear that evacuation was never an option for her, saying, famously, ‘The children could not go without me, I could not possibly leave the King, and the King would never go.’

  For much of the early part of the war, she and the King slept at Windsor, where their daughters lived, but were frequently in London (they could have been killed by a bomb which struck Buckingham Palace while they were there in September 1940). Morale on the Home Front was vital. The Queen constantly accompanied the King on visits to factories, schools, regimental headquarters and, above all, areas of London and other cities that had been badly bombed; she wrote to her mother-in-law Queen Mary, ‘It does affect me seeing this terrible and senseless destruction. I think that really I mind it much more than being bombed myself.’4

  In the first two years of the war, Britain suffered reverse after reverse. But the Queen refused to admit that defeat was even a possibility and the British people, remarkably, shared such confidence. The entry into the war of the United States after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in December 1941 changed everything. Winston Churchill, who had become Prime Minister in May 1940, wrote in his war memoirs, ‘Being saturated and satiated with emotion and sensation, I went to bed and slept the sleep of the saved and thankful.’5

  When victory was final
ly won on 8 May 1945 hundreds of thousands of people gathered in front of Buckingham Palace. The King, the Queen and the Princesses appeared on the balcony – which had been surveyed to ensure that it was structurally sound – to salute the crowd and be saluted back. Joy abounded. Churchill, who joined the family on the balcony, later said, ‘We could not have had a better King and Queen in Britain’s most perilous hour.’6

  The Queen, and even more the King, were exhausted by the effort of the war years. So was Britain itself. But there was more upheaval to come. The wartime coalition was dissolved and in July 1945 the people of Britain voted in a general election. They rejected Churchill in favour of a Labour government which promised the creation of a welfare state. From the Queen’s point of view the story of the next six years was of tumultuous change in British society which she feared could damage the links between Crown and people, and of catastrophic decline in the King’s health.

  There were happy times, most particularly the engagement and marriage in November 1947 of Princess Elizabeth to Prince Philip of Greece. The Queen wrote to the Princess, ‘That you & Philip should be blissfully happy & love each other through the good days and bad or depressing days is my one wish.’7

  More happiness followed; in 1948 the King and Queen celebrated their Silver Wedding anniversary and then the births of their grandson Prince Charles in November 1948 and granddaughter Princess Anne in August 1950. But the Queen was preoccupied, above all, by her husband’s condition.

  In September 1951 a biopsy revealed a malignant growth in the lung. It was cancer, but that word was never mentioned. His physicians decided that the entire lung had to be removed. On the morning of the operation crowds gathered outside the Palace, where an operating theatre had been installed, and Churchill did something he had not done for many years – he went down on his knees and prayed.8 So did millions of other people across the land. The operation was deemed a success and the Royal Family spent a happy Christmas 1951 at Sandringham. But in the early hours of the morning of 6 February 1952 the King died in his sleep.

  The devastated Queen immediately wrote to her mother-in-law, Queen Mary, ‘My darling Mama, What can I say to you – I know that you loved Bertie dearly, and he was my whole life … It is hard to grasp, he was such an angel to the children & me, and I cannot bear to think of Lilibet, so young to bear such a burden.’9

  Princess Elizabeth, away in Africa, had overnight become Queen. She and Prince Philip flew back at once to London to assume a responsibility that each of them would carry out thereafter with an astonishing sense of duty.

  The people showed their grief at the death of the unexpected King whom they had come to love. Over 300,000 of them waited in the bitter cold, in lines four miles long, to pass by his body as it lay in state in Westminster Hall. At the end of the day of his funeral, 15 February 1952, his widow Queen Elizabeth wrote, ‘Today has been the most wonderful & the most agonizing day of my life. Wonderful because one felt the sincerity of the people’s feelings, & agonizing because gradually one becomes less numb, & the awfulness of everything becomes real.’10

  3 June 1937 to Queen Mary

  Buckingham Palace

  My Darling Mama,

  We have been thinking so much about you today, with your memories of past days, and all the new anxieties added, and just send this little line of love to say how much we are with you in thought and sympathy and loving admiration.

  Always your devoted daughter in law, Elizabeth

  18 August 1937 to Queen Mary

  Balmoral Castle

  Darling Mama

  I do hope that you are having a pleasant and peaceful time at Sandringham. I saw in the papers that you had made an expedition to Cambridge – I wonder whether you found anything nice.

  I spent a very pleasant week at Glamis, & found my parents well. It was lovely & hot most of the time, & the garden a blaze of colour.

  Here, everything seems much the same, & all the people well – Abercromby looks like a two year old, & Gordon* has grown a beard which suits him very well!

  The garden has been very much cut down – the big border in front of the house has gone, & a great deal also in the lower garden. We shall have to try & put back the flowers as soon as possible. Also I do not know whether the gardener is any good yet – he was foreman I believe. […]

  We had such an amusing arrival here – I expect that Bertie told you – & were drawn by about 50 of the employees here up the drive to the Castle in a carriage with the pipers marching in front! The gentlemen & Lettice Bowlby* walked behind, looking like chief mourners, and altogether the cavalcade looked like a rather gay funeral! It was very delightful to be welcomed like that, but also very amusing.

  Much love darling Mama.

  I will write again soon,

  Always your loving daughter in law

  Elizabeth

  21 September 1937 to Sir Walter Monckton

  Balmoral Castle

  Dear Sir Walter†

  Thank you so much for your kind letter. I was most touched that you should think of writing so sympathetically and with such understanding and I appreciate your thought most deeply. I think that it would be an excellent thing if you were to write to the King at fairly regular intervals, for I feel that one of the main sources of anxiety of mind is the difficulty experienced of getting authentic news from abroad.

  I do not think that the King is too badly worried, as he has great faith in your powers of persuasion & good advice, but I know that he would be immensely relieved if he could feel that there was no chance of the libel case coming off. The possibility even, is horrible to think of, and the whole thing so degrading. But we do feel so much encouraged by your help & kindness & wish to help, and I can imagine that the whole affair must be very difficult & troublesome to handle at times. One has seen with alarming clarity during the last two years how vitally necessary a stable Monarchy is for this Empire & the world, and as ‘the Monarchy’ really embraces the whole Royal family, we cannot afford any more scandals & insinuations.

  I do hope that you have managed to have a real holiday – we have been very happy here. With again my grateful thanks for your kind thought,

  I am,

  Yours very sincerely

  Elizabeth R

  26 October 1937 to Queen Mary

  Sandringham

  Darling Mama

  It is kind of you to suggest helping me with the presents for our people, and I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you for such an offer! You are so wonderfully clever at buying the right things, and if you would buy things for the people here, and/or the maids & valets of the Family, it would be a great help.

  The children were thrilled at the idea of going to the Tower, & I am sure, adored their visit there with you.

  Bertie’s Speech went off quite well this morning. I must admit that I was very very nervous during the whole ceremonial!* The silence is most alarming, and the significance of the speech, as typifying the strong link between the Crown & Parliament most impressive.

  The peace here seems so perfect after our busy days!

  Ever, darling Mama, your devoted daughter in law

  Elizabeth

  7 December 1937 to the Hon. Sir Richard Molyneux

  Buckingham Palace

  My dear Dick

  Will you come to Sandringham for Xmas, and help us with [three drawings of bottles, of increasing size, labelled Claret, Burgundy and Champagne respectively] etc – pull a few [drawing of a cracker]s & help us with that [drawing of a Christmas tree]? I hope that you are free – (not too free of course).

  Yours sincerely

  Elizabeth R

  18 December 1937 to Osbert Sitwell

  Buckingham Palace

  Dear Mr Sitwell,

  I wish that I could find words suitable to convey my delight in the lovely book on the Pavilion gardens,* that you so kindly sent me.

  It is absolutely enchanting and exactly the sort of thing that gives me great pleasure. It is fasc
inating and I have spent hours looking at it & enjoying it. I do thank you with all my heart for such a delicious present. I feel very touched by your thought – and do so appreciate your unfailing and loyal friendship. In these days, one finds more & more that indeed the only things that count are friends, and the warmth & sense of security that they bring. All too rare alas!, but then, all the more precious. (Oh dear, I did not want to write the word prescious [sic] because I cannot spell it, what a bore!)

  But please believe that I am really pleased with Repton’s lovely book, and I thank you very very much.

  With every good wish for Xmas & 1938.

  I am, Yours very sincerely,

  Elizabeth R

  PS. What fun Hannah’s† luncheon party was & how naughty you were going on about the Giorgiones! I enjoyed it enormously. My first luncheon party out since Dec: 1936.

  And a thousand thanks for sending me ‘Mrs Kimber’,* I love it – do write some more poetry, yours is so good & so rare nowadays. Write us something hopeful & courageous for next year. After all, this is a grand little country, & as we can never be warlike, let us have some pride in it – we must be serious about something!

  5 January 1938 to Princess Elizabeth

  Sandringham

  [Addressed to]

  Her Royal Highness

  The Princess Elizabeth

  Gettingupforlunch

  The Nursery

  Sandringham

  My Darling Lilibet

  I am so glad to hear that you are better today, and hope that you will enjoy your lunch out of bed.

  I am feeling much better too, but still a little achy and still living on tea! I hope by tomorrow that I shall be eating Irish stew, steak & kidney pudding, haricot mutton, roast beef, boiled beef, sausages & mutton pies, not to mention roast chicken, fried chicken, boiled chicken, scrambled chicken, scrunched up chicken, good chicken, nasty chicken, fat chicken, thin chicken, any sort of chicken.

 

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