17 Carnations: The Windsors, The Nazis and The Cover-Up

by Andrew Morton

  Such was the mounting concern about the prince’s irresponsible behaviour that the king, in consultation with Prime Minister Baldwin, secretly agreed to take the extraordinary step of calling in Scotland Yard to monitor the Simpsons’ movements.

  It was a desperate throw of the dice with potentially dire consequences. Relations between the king and his eldest son, already strained and distant, would have been utterly severed had the prince caught wind of this covert surveillance of his paramour. During June and July 1935, as Britain celebrated the King’s Silver Jubilee, the Simpsons were watched and followed every day by a team of undercover agents led by the Yard’s ace detective, Superintendent Albert Canning. A Special Branch veteran of operations against the Irish Republican Army and the suffragettes, Canning had the reputation of having a phenomenal memory for faces.

  Superintendent Canning’s report, which was delivered to Metropolitan Police commissioner Sir Philip Game on July 3, 1935, made alarming reading, his allegations as pungent as they were shocking. Not only was it clear that the Prince of Wales was having an affair with Wallis Simpson, but the American was two-timing him and her husband with a third man, Ford car salesman Guy Marcus Trundle.

  During his investigation Canning discovered that Trundle, then thirty-six, was a vicar’s son born in York who was also married. Moreover, he had a reputation as a well-known rake and he lived just a short walk from the Simpsons’ apartment, at 18 Bruton Street in Mayfair, next door to where the Duke of York’s eldest daughter, Princess Elizabeth, later Queen Elizabeth II, was born.

  He was a classic gigolo, described as a “very charming adventurer, very good looking, well bred and an excellent dancer.” Not only did Trundle meet Mrs. Simpson “quite openly” at informal social gatherings; Canning noted that “secret meetings are made by appointment when intimate relations take place.” As both parties were married, Canning did not describe how and where they found suitable accommodation for the unlikely lovers to consummate their illicit affair.

  There was more. A grateful Mrs. Simpson had given her London lover money and expensive presents, a charge that perplexes her biographers, who characterize Wallis as a “mean and acquisitive” woman, more used to receiving than giving presents.

  Now juggling two lovers, a nervous Wallis, reported Canning, had admitted she was concerned that her husband was suspicious of her relationships with other men and feared that it may “cause trouble” with the Prince of Wales. The prince was also watched and followed, seen accompanying Mrs. Simpson on shopping expeditions to antique stores in South Kensington. The resourceful Canning came so close to the couple that he was able to state with certainty that they were on “very affectionate terms” and called one another “darling.”

  As for the cuckold in this marital nest, Ernest Simpson was described as a man of the “bounder type” who was given to boasting to acquaintances that he expected “high honours” once Edward became king. For this naturalized Englishman, it would be the summit of his ambition if he was made a baron, a rather curious choice of title as it was an honour with little rank or standing.

  Standing outside Bryanston Court watching the comings and goings, Canning took a dim view of the Simpsons’ social circle. Among their visitors, he noted Sir Oswald Mosley, the former Labour politician and now leader of the Fascist Party in Britain; drug addict and the Duke of Kent’s one-time lover Alice “Kiki” Preston; and society hostess Lady Emerald Cunard, whose daughter “the notorious Nancy,” Canning pointed out, was “very partial to coloured men and who created a sensation some years ago by taking up residence in the Negro quarter of New York.” (In fact she was a poet, publisher, journalist, and tireless supporter of the disenfranchised, who compiled an anthology of African American culture.)

  Whatever the subsequent caveats about Canning’s report—particularly the veracity of Wallis’s affair with Trundle—when it landed on Commissioner Game’s desk it was taken at face value. Such was the Special Branch detective’s reputation that he was subsequently placed in charge of the security arrangements for the crucial visit by King George VI and Queen Elizabeth to Canada and the United States in 1939. He eventually became head of the Special Branch and was awarded the MBE (Member of the British Empire) for his diligent service to Crown and country.

  Sex, money, drugs, and Fascist politics—what was the Prince of Wales getting himself into? It had long been accepted by his family and courtiers that Edward was an irresponsible Peter Pan figure, prone to childish whims, stubborn in his misplaced affections, and heedless of the consequences to himself or the Crown, but his embrace of this seedy milieu was of a different order, with wide-reaching consequences for the reputation of the monarchy.

  The prince’s treasurer, Admiral Sir Lionel Halsey, suspected that the future king was being taken for a ride by both Mr. and Mrs. Simpson. “I also told HM [His Majesty] that in my opinion Mrs Simpson and her husband were hand in glove in getting all they could out of HRH,” he noted in July 1935, shortly after Canning’s report was written. In short order, senior advisors in both Buckingham Palace and Downing Street would be using the same phrase about Ernest and Wallis Simpson: “high-class blackmailers.” Even the prince’s own lawyer, the normally phlegmatic Walter Monckton, was moved to exclaim that this affair “smacked of blackmail upon an extravagant basis.”

  The case against Mr. and Mrs. Simpson was building to the point where senior Downing Street advisors considered deporting the couple. They were already suspected of blackmailing the prince, and it was but a short leap to wonder if they were members of a Nazi spy nest based at Bryanston Court. It transpired that the Simpsons were not the only occupants of the apartment block being watched by Britain’s undercover police.

  Since 1928 secret watchers employed by MI5, the internal security service, as well as the Foreign Office, had been monitoring the movements and the mail of the Simpsons’ neighbour Princess Stephanie von Hohenlohe-Waldenburg-Schillingsfürst, the Jewish daughter of a middle-class Viennese family who married into the royal echelons of the Austro-Hungarian empire.

  They were concerned that she was a political intriguer, probably a Nazi spy with direct access to Hitler himself. “She is perhaps the only woman who can exercise any influence on him,” noted one secret service report. In the febrile nationalist atmosphere in postwar Europe, where spies were believed to be lurking behind every corner, the much-travelled and well-connected princess, who numbered the Kaiser’s eldest son, Crown Prince Wilhelm, among her friends, was a natural target, described in newspaper headlines as a “vamp,” a “German spy,” and a “political adventuress”—language remarkably similar to that used for Wallis Simpson.

  With her linguistic skills, relentless charm, and social connections, the princess was much more than a vapid member of the international demi-monde. In the fractured, volatile atmosphere of 1930s Europe, where talk of war hugged the horizon, she quickly became the queen of the exclusive group of well-heeled go-betweens, those royals, aristocrats, and influential businessmen who were the first line of discreet contact between wary, war-weary nations.

  It was the task of “my dear princess”—Hitler’s affectionate term for Princess Stephanie—to court the well born, the high, and the mighty and convince them of Germany’s peaceful intentions, pointing out the injustice of the Treaty of Versailles, Germany’s need to revert to its natural borders and to have the freedom to redevelop its armed forces, free of treaty restrictions. She was one of the Führer’s voices in London salons, making the seductive and compelling argument that a powerful, properly armed Germany was a bulwark against the Soviet menace. Hitler, needless to say, did not know she was Jewish until much later.

  Hitler and his henchmen were prepared to use every means possible to bend international opinion to favour Nazi demands. He convinced German royals and industrialists to go forth and multiply his word. A key target was the Prince of Wales, the German leadership conflating, wrongly, the prince’s position at the apex of society with equal political in
fluence. When Hitler stumbled in his plan for Edward to marry a young German princess, he came to depend on Princess Stephanie to deliver a pro-German sovereign to the throne of England. She was his secret weapon in the battle for the political heart and mind of the future king. Her title gave her access, while her vivacious personality and flirtatious charm provided an effective means of persuasion.

  The New York Mirror described how she exerted her influence in London:

  Her apartment has become the focus for those British aristocrats who have a friendly stance towards Nazi Germany. Her soirees are the talk of the town. Prominently displayed in her drawing room is a huge portrait of Hitler.

  Besides her neighbours Wallis and Ernest Simpson, the Prince of Wales, his brother George, Duke of Kent, Lord and Lady Londonderry, the Duke of Westminster, Lady Oxford, and Lady Emerald Cunard were on the first page of Princess Stephanie’s little black book. She was described in newspaper reports as “Europe’s number one secret diplomat” and “Hitler’s mysterious courier,” but Britain’s secret service saw her differently, viewing her as “a very active and dangerous agent for the Nazis.” It was a role that resulted in Hitler presenting her with the Gold Badge of the Nazi Party for her services to the cause.

  It was not long before Establishment minds wondered if Princess Stephanie and Wallis Simpson were working hand in glove, Bryanston Court a nest of intrigue and plotting. A witch, a vampire, and a high-class blackmailer. As tensions mounted throughout Europe, Wallis was soon being spoken of openly as a Nazi spy.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Seduced by von Ribbentrop’s Dimple

  To the victor the spoils. Wallis Simpson may have been looked upon with disdain by the king, his courtiers, and his circle of landowning friends, men of ancient lineage and impeccable deportment like Lord Curzon, Lord Derby, and the Duke of Devonshire. No matter, once it became clear to London society that she was the latest squeeze of the Prince of Wales, it was not long before the girl from Baltimore, who had learned to curtsey only a short time before, had many of the great and the good bowing and scraping at her feet.

  The Simpsons’ arrival in London society coincided with a new generation of transatlantic hostesses who vied with one another to preside over the most glittering balls and dinners where conversation sparkled along with the diamond tiaras. Social leaders like Laura Corrigan, Nancy Astor, Emerald Cunard, Henry Channon, and Elsa Maxwell were the hedonistic arrivistes who dominated the world of gossip, spiky chatter, and rumour that passed for polite society. While the Prince of Wales enjoyed these gatherings, the king and his men retreated from the social fray and looked down from their broad acres at this metropolitan mélange of waspish, well-heeled sophisticates. Grandees doubtless shared Lord Crawford’s view: “Personally I try to keep aloof from the rich Jews and Americans and I don’t want to be mixed up with Asiatics.”

  As an American with a Jewish husband, Wallis was never going to win over the traditional English aristocracy—even if she ever wanted to. Very soon she found herself reigning over her own court, where the principal aim was to keep the Prince of Wales entertained and amused. Her partner in this merry but demanding venture was the most provocative, exciting, and lavish hostess in London, Lady Emerald Cunard.

  Twittering, sniping, and extravagantly dressed, Maud “Emerald” Cunard was married to Sir Bache Cunard, heir to the eponymous shipping line, and was for a decade the mistress of conductor Sir Thomas Beecham, consistently championing his musical projects. Cutting, occasionally cruel, and always controversial—“Christmas is only for servants” was one of her mots—Emerald brought excitement and challenge to the lavish parties at her London home, 7 Grosvenor Square. A native Californian who admired Hitler, adored opera, and loved poetry, Lady Cunard encouraged the diplomats and politicians at her table into embarrassing indiscretions. It was such a feature of her evenings that it prompted war leader David Lloyd George to describe her as “the most dangerous woman in London.” Others considered her brilliance and vivacity as intoxicating as the champagne that always flowed freely. It kept her ahead of the social pack, the notorious and those of note always pleased to accept an invitation to her salon.

  She was relentless and enthusiastic in the promotion into London society of her New Best Friend, fellow American Wallis Simpson. It got to the point where playwright Noel Coward pronounced himself “sick” of invitations to her home for so-called “quiet” suppers with the Prince of Wales and Wallis Simpson. While Emerald hoped that by championing Wallis’s cause she would, in the next reign, be appointed Mistress of the Robes, the senior lady-in-waiting at court, others considered her behaviour irresponsible. Queen Mary, deaf to talk that her eldest son was the master of his own misfortunes, considered Lady Cunard to have played a very mischievous and damaging role in convincing Mrs. Simpson that she had any standing with or was held in any regard by the ruling class. That assumption encouraged the Prince of Wales to think that Mrs. Simpson would one day be accepted by the English aristocracy and the wider public. “I fear she has done David a great deal of harm as there is no doubt she was great friends with Mrs Simpson and gave parties for her,” noted the queen sadly.

  Emerald’s rival American hostess Nancy Astor, the first woman member of Parliament, was more trenchant in her criticism, not only taking a dim view of the lady from Baltimore but also blaming Lady Cunard for encouraging the romance. The mistress of Cliveden, the impressive stately home in Berkshire that was the setting for expansive weekend parties and dinners involving the most famous literary and political figures of the day, became “terribly indignant” when she first learned that Emerald had invited the prince and his mistress to her home for dinner. Not only did she consider her social rival “bad company” and a “disintegrating influence,” she believed strongly that she encouraged the pro-Nazi leanings of the Prince of Wales.

  It also counted against Lady Cunard that she actively promoted Hitler’s favourite, Princess Stephanie, into high society, or as an MI5 report stated: “She has . . . succeeded in worming her way into certain society circles where she speaks favourably of the present regime in Germany.”

  Ironically it was the “Cliveden Set” that was seen by contemporaries as a “shadow Foreign Office” where pro-German politicians and diplomats met in secret conclave.

  Among the political classes, Lady Astor was viewed as a woman “fighting bravely for Hitler and Mussolini,” although in her defence, she used these social occasions to tackle guests like Hitler’s Special Commissioner for Disarmament, Joachim von Ribbentrop, about the failings of National Socialism. At their first meeting she asked the German politician how people could take Hitler seriously while he persisted in wearing Charlie Chaplin’s moustache.

  When von Ribbentrop was guest of honour at Grosvenor Square in June 1935, Emerald Cunard was no less provocative, cooing: “Tell us, dearest Excellency, why does Herr Hitler dislike the Jews?” As far as she was political, Emerald, unlike her actively left-wing daughter Nancy, whom she loathed, was conservative and subscribed to the mainstream view that Hitler was a “good thing” for Germany. Such was her enthusiasm for the Nazi cause that the American ambassador to London, Robert Worth Bingham, described the Cunard set as the “pro-German cabal.”

  In her attitude Lady Cunard was little different from a significant proportion of the ruling elite. During what historian John Wheeler-Bennett called the “respectable years” of the Nazi regime, most observers preferred to believe that Hitler adhered to the principles of peace and respect for national borders and the sovereignty of other nations. His was seen as an orderly, modern government with the emphasis on youth and creating jobs for the hungry working man. While there were warning signs, especially lurid stories of Nazi savagery told by fleeing Jewish Germans, few imagined the horrors to come.

  Moreover, Lady Cunard was more than a little infatuated with the well-tailored, impeccably mannered, and mechanically charming von Ribbentrop. That he was notoriously pompous, humourless, and self-important merel
y added to his comedic fascination, Emerald’s barbs bouncing off this German Zeppelin. Society diarist and fellow American Chips Channon captured the social by-play between von Ribbentrop, Emerald, and Wallis over dinner, noting in his diary: “Much gossip about the Prince of Wales’ alleged Nazi leanings; he is alleged to have been influenced by Emerald Cunard who is rather eprise [in love with] Herr Ribbentrop through Mrs Simpson.”

  “Emerald had been intriguing on behalf of the German cause,” he noted, “inspired by Herr Ribbentrop’s dimple.”

  However, it was not Lady Cunard’s idle flirtation that had tongues wagging in Berlin, Washington, and London, but the attention Herr von Ribbentrop paid that evening to Mrs. Simpson and his subsequent chivalrous, somewhat overly solicitous behaviour, sending seventeen carnations—some say roses—every day to her apartment at Bryanston Court.

  It was an association that was to haunt her at the time and dog her for the rest of her life. She had met von Ribbentrop on a previous occasion when the German ambassador to London, Leopold von Hoesch, had organized a dinner to introduce Hitler’s representative to the future king. Even von Ribbentrop, normally at daggers drawn with the urbane and sophisticated von Hoesch, was impressed. The ambassador had gone to great lengths to make the prince feel at home. Knowing that, like him, he loved gypsy music, he hired a famous gypsy band from a Hungarian restaurant on Regent Street in central London to entertain the intimate party. Wallis always enjoyed these dinners with the German ambassador, finding him witty, amusing, and cultured. In turn, von Ribbentrop was suitably charmed and engaged by the American. At some point he asked Constance Spry, the famed florist and friend of Wallis, to make up a spray of flowers every day which were to be delivered to her central London apartment. A former assistant, known only as Sheila, told reporter John Edwards that it was her job to deliver bouquets of long-stemmed roses or carnations.