by Anne Edwards
With a decision now made, Margaret and Townsend were able to relax together. “I was stunned later on [said one witness] to learn that they had decided against marriage before that last monstrous week. Their love for each other seemed just as strong. Later, I suspected that even if marriage had been ruled out, a discreet relationship had not. Which would have made the whole ghastly, sad affair a terrible travesty.”
On Thursday evening, October 27, Margaret went to see the Archbishop. She is said to have entered his library and told him, “My Lord Archbishop, you may put away your books. I have made up my mind already.” Later, wearing a shimmering diamond tiara and a glamorous strapless pink-and-white satin gown, she sat with the Queen, Prince Philip and the visiting President of Portugal in the Royal Box at Convent Garden and watched a performance of Smetana’s The Bartered Bride.
After a short meeting with her sister at Buckingham Palace the following evening, Margaret drove to Uckfield House—the red-brick Queen Anne country estate in Sussex of Lord Rupert and Lady “Micky” Nevill. Townsend had already arrived twelve miles away at Eridge Castle, the home of Lord Rupert’s brother, the Marquess of Abergavenny. Once again Townsend was to engage in a bit of cloak-and-dagger. A Buckingham Palace luggage van preceded Margaret to Uckfield House. At seven o’clock a Humber car belonging to Lord Rupert, with Margaret hidden in the back seat, turned into the moonlit drive of Uckfield House, at such a fast pace that the crowds had to scamper to get out of its path. Twenty minutes later the Palace van went out, returning in a half hour “with a man passenger [Townsend] huddled down in the seat.”
By now, “hundreds of cars with sightseers descended on the small Sussex town [where the Nevills lived] in the hopes of seeing the Princess. In the lane that leads up to the main gate of Uckfield House, the crowds even brought out picnic baskets. Others lit camp stoves to heat up soup.... But, the Princess did not leave Uckfield House. Nor did Townsend.”
This was to be a “goodbye weekend” for the two principals. And though blocked and besieged by the press and public, Uckfield House “was a haven.... Police and their dogs patrolled, reporters perched in trees or hid in ditches”; and on their walks in the parkland of the estate they were “snipped at occasionally by long-range lenses.” Nonetheless, they were able to talk and to comfort each other.
They returned separately to London on Monday, October 31, and said a “final goodbye”* at Clarence House that evening while the Queen and Philip attended the Royal Film Show. Elizabeth smiled and walked briskly along the line and seemed unperturbed when American actress Ava Gardner did not curtsy when she was being presented.
A chill rain buffeted Lydd airport as Townsend oversaw the loading of his green Renault sedan aboard an air freighter. Sightseers huddled beneath umbrellas nearby but he did not wave as he himself climbed aboard the plane. A half hour later he was gone from England.
In Paris, the Duke of Windsor wrote the woman for whom he gave up a kingdom, “the unctuous hypocritical cant and corn which has been provoked in The Times and Telegraph by Margaret’s renunciation of Townsend has been hard to take. The Church of England won again but this time they caught their fly whereas I was wily enough to escape the web of outmoded institution that has become no more than a government department and has more traditional than religious appeal.”
The ex-King was seemingly insensitive to the crux of Margaret’s decision—the awesome fear that, to escape the web her uncle spoke about, she might have found herself sharing his tragic and embittered state.
After two days of seclusion in Clarence House, Margaret attended a Commemorative Service at St. Paul’s Cathedral. Some five hundred of her sister’s subjects stood respectfully in the rain to see her. A murmur could be heard as she passed. A woman stepped out of the crowd and curtsying said, “Good luck. God bless you.” A gentle smile suffused Margaret’s face and she continued up the steps and disappeared inside.
Footnote
*Townsend and Princess Margaret were to hold private (and some publicized) rendezvous over the next three years.
22
One thing was certain. The role she had to play in the breakup of her sister’s romance had deeply affected the Queen. Throughout the spring of 1956 she did everything in her power to bring a full smile to Margaret’s face and to include her in whatever activities she could. Whether because of Margaret or because of more private considerations, Elizabeth seemed tense.
The Queen had once been quoted as saying, “I do not think that you can perform any finer service than to help maintain the Christian doctrine that the relation of husband and wife is a permanent one.” In her case there could never be any question that her marriage would be otherwise. The Throne did not, however, guarantee a union exempt from problems. At this juncture there was not only “a divergence of interests” where Elizabeth and Philip were concerned, there appeared to be a decided rift. Philip began spending more and more time away from “home,” often on the Britannia and in the company of Michael Parker. Robert Lacey in his biography of the Queen attributed this to “Her husband’s resentment at the truncating of his naval career,” an unsatisfactory explanation, for several years had elapsed since Philip had come to terms with his position as Consort.
Damaging gossip began to circulate when the Palace announced that Philip would open the Olympic games at Melbourne, Australia, without the Queen and remain abroad for four months. His rationale was that “there were a good many island communities and outposts in the Indian Ocean, the South Pacific, the Antarctic and the Atlantic, which cannot be visited by air, and are too remote and small to get into the usual tours [the Queen’s State visits]. Although it meant being away from home for four months, including Christmas and the New Year, I decided to try to arrange the journey out to Australia and back in the Royal Yacht Britannia.”
True to his vow he traveled to almost every one of the Commonwealth’s outposts: “I showed them Seven Brides for Seven Brothers [he said after a party on Britannia for the lonely men of the Survey Base on otherwise uninhabited Deception Island, off the tip of the Graham Peninsula], but I’m not sure whether it was a good idea, or whether it was perhaps slightly misjudged....” And he told Basil Boothroyd that he enjoyed himself “even on the 3,800 miles of open sea to Graham Land from the Chatham Islands in the Roaring Forties.” It appeared that he was exploiting “the chores of his role as consort to recapture something of his carefree days at sea.” And of course, he was once again sharing those experiences with Michael Parker, who was himself awash with rumors that his wife was about to file for divorce on the grounds of his infidelity. The American newspapers reported that Philip and the Queen, whose views on divorce had, after all, just been tested, had quarreled over Parker and that his resignation was being demanded. Britannia was in Gibraltar, where the world tour was ending, at this time, and since Elizabeth was planning to join her husband, directly after, at Lisbon, the situation had all the earmarks of an international scandal. Parker, in Prince Philip’s own words, “had to go,” and indeed, he did.
Once Peter Townsend’s tour of duty was ended he found himself uncertain as to what he should do next. Finally, on October 21, 1956, Trafalgar Day, one year after he and Margaret had come to their final decision, he “drove out of Brussels into dense fog and gathering darkness, along the road which, with only one short sea crossing, the Bosphorus, led all the way to Singapore.” Townsend had decided to leave “the system, the rules, the style” which he could no longer abide and travel around the world alone. “Only when I left Istanbul and struck out across the wilds of the Anatolian plateau, did I feel free again [he wrote].”
In what seems a most extraordinary coincidence, both Townsend and Philip were off on world tours, having departed within days of each other, although their routes and the style of their journeys would be in great contrast. Townsend, dressed in khaki and boots, drove wherever he could, walked, or rode horse and camel, crowded native trains and long-outmoded water transport; while Philip, the buttons and m
edals shining on his uniform as Admiral of the Fleet, strode the polished decks of Britannia or boarded a plane of the Queen’s flight.
With Philip on the high seas the State Opening of Parliament in November presented a serious problem. Commander Richard Colville feared the sight of the Queen going through the ritual without Philip at her side would create a new wave of unfounded gossip around the world. He therefore presented to Elizabeth an idea that he believed—rightly—would turn the difficult situation into a moment of great emotional meaning to people everywhere. Why not have Princess Margaret take Prince Philip’s position, an act that would prove the sisters’ total reconciliation and gain so much press coverage that Philip’s absence would be relegated to a footnote?
There had been no precedent, but there was also no reason why this could not take place. The sisters agreed.
The day was cold and clear and a winter sun turned the gold-embellished Irish State Coach into a shimmering frame. The sisters sat facing each other, Elizabeth with the diamond diadem high on her head and white ermine around her shoulders, Margaret with a glittering tiara that had once belonged to Queen Mary and also wearing white ermine. Their waves were coordinated as once they had been when they were youngsters, so one would spell the other.
When they arrived at Westminster, the Queen was helped out of the Coach first. A moment later Margaret followed. Their appearance together on this rare occasion, both in white satin gowns, was greeted with tremendous enthusiasm by the crowds, many people crying quite openly. Inside the Great Hall, the peers and peeresses of the realm waited while the Queen went to the robing room to put on the Imperial State Crown and her eighteen-foot-long velvet train, and Margaret the more abbreviated train she had worn to her sister’s Coronation.
A short time later the lights in the Hall dimmed. Then Elizabeth came through the doors and they blazed up. The Queen stepped out alone, her four young Pages of Honor in their red coats and white breeches, white stockings and black silver-buckled shoes, supporting her train. Behind them came Margaret, head high, shoulders back. Not everyone knew what was going to happen next and there was some silent speculation. Would the Queen mount the Throne alone? Would Margaret be seated in a front pew? Elizabeth stepped up to her Throne and turned. Margaret had approached the Consort’s smaller throne on the lower dais and stood before it.
“My Lords, pray be seated,” the Queen commanded; and along with the glittering assembly, her sister sat in the chair that designated her precedence among them. Once again, as when their father became King, Lilibet was one and Margaret was two.
Afterword
Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip reunited happily in Lisbon on February 16, 1956, at the end of his world tour. Upon their return to London after a State visit to Portugal, Elizabeth announced: “The Queen has been pleased to give and grant unto H.R.H. the Duke of Edinburgh the style and titular dignity of a Prince of the United Kingdom. The Queen has been pleased to declare her will and pleasure that the Duke of Edinburgh shall henceforth be known as His Royal Highness the Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh.”
Princess Margaret married Antony Armstrong-Jones (created 1st Earl of Snowdon, 1961) in 1960. They were divorced in 1978.
Peter Townsend married Marie-Luce Jamagne in 1959. They live in France and have two daughters and a son. Townsend is a successful writer and has published numerous books, including Time and Chance: An Autobiography, The Last Emperor, Duel of Eagles, The Postman of Nagasaki and Earth My Friend.
Appendices
Speeches and Quotes
KING EDWARD VIII'S MESSAGE TO PARLIAMENT ON HIS ABDICATION
After long and anxious consideration I have determined to renounce the Throne to which I succeeded on the death of my father, and I am now communicating this final and irrevocable decision.
Realising as I do the gravity of this step, I can only hope that I shall have the understanding of my peoples in the decision I have taken and the reasons which have led me to take it.
I will not enter now into my private feelings, but I would beg that it should be remembered that the burden which constantly rests upon the shoulders of a Sovereign is so heavy that it can only be borne in circumstances different from those in which I now find myself.
I conceive that I am not overlooking the duty that rests on me to place in the forefront the public interest when I declare that I am conscious that I can no longer discharge this heavy task with efficiency or with satisfaction to myself.
I have accordingly this morning executed an Instrument of Abdication in the terms following:
“I, Edward the Eighth, of Great Britain, Ireland, and the British Dominions beyond the Seas, King Emperor of India, do hereby declare My irrevocable determination to renounce the Throne for Myself and for My descendants, and My desire that effect should be given to this Instrument of Abdication immediately.
“In token whereof I have hereunto set My hand this tenth day of December nineteen hundred and thirty-six, in the presence of the witnesses whose signatures are subscribed.
(Signed) EDWARD, R.I.”
My execution of this instrument has been witnessed by my three brothers, Their Royal Highnesses the Duke of York, the Duke of Gloucester, and the Duke of Kent.
I deeply appreciate the spirit which has actuated the appeals which have been made to me to take a different decision and I have, before reaching my final determination, most fully pondered over them.
But my mind is made up.
Moreover further delay cannot but be most injurious to the peoples whom I have tried to serve as Prince of Wales and as King and whose future happiness and prosperity are the constant wish of my heart.
I take my leave of them in the confident hope that the course which I have thought it right to follow is that which is best for the stability of the Throne and Empire and the happiness of my people.
I am deeply sensible of the consideration which they have always extended to me both before and after my accession to the Throne and which I know they will extend in full measure to my successor.
I am most anxious that there should be no delay of any kind in giving effect to the instrument which I have executed and that all necessary steps should be taken immediately to secure that my lawful successor my brother His Royal Highness the Duke of York should ascend the Throne.
EDWARD VIII’S FAREWELL MESSAGE
TO THE EMPIRE
DECEMBER 10, 1936
At long last I am able to say a few words of my own. I have never wanted to withhold anything, but until now it has been not constitutionally possible for me to speak.
A few hours ago I discharged my last duty as King and Emperor, and now that I have been succeeded by my brother, the Duke of York, my first words must be to declare my allegiance to him. This I do with all my heart.
You all know the reasons which have impelled me to renounce the throne. But I want you to understand that in making up my mind I did not forget the country or the Empire which as Prince of Wales, and lately as King, I have for twenty-five years tried to serve. But you must believe me when I tell you that I have found it impossible to carry the heavy burden of responsibility to discharge my duties as King as I would wish to do without the help and support of the woman I love.
And I want you to know that the decision I have made has been mine and mine alone. This was a thing I had to judge entirely for myself. The other person most concerned has tried up to the last to persuade me to take a different course. I have made this, the most serious decision of my life, upon a single thought of what would in the end be the best for all.
This decision has been made less difficult to me by the sure knowledge that my brother, with his long training in the public affairs of this country and with his fine qualities, will be able to take my place forthwith, without interruption or injury to the life and progress of the Empire. And he has one matchless blessing, enjoyed by so many of you and not bestowed on me—a happy home with his wife and children.
During these hard days I
have been comforted by my Mother and by my family. The Ministers of the Crown, and in particular Mr. Baldwin, the Prime Minister, have always treated me with full consideration. There has never been any constitutional difference between me and Parliament. Bred in the constitutional tradition by my Father, I should never have allowed any such issue to arise.
Ever since I was Prince of Wales, and later on when I occupied the throne, I have been treated with the greatest kindness by all classes, wherever I have lived or journeyed throughout the Empire. For that I am very grateful.
I now quit altogether public affairs, and I lay down my burden. It may be some time before I return to my native land, but I shall always follow the fortunes of the British race and Empire with profound interest, and if at any time in the future I can be found of service to His Majesty in a private station I shall not fail. And now we all have a new King. I wish him, and you, his people, happiness and prosperity with all my heart. God bless you all. God Save the King.
CORONATION SPEECH OF ELIZABETH II
JUNE 2, 1953
As this day draws to its close, I know that my abiding memory of it will be, not only the solemnity and beauty of the ceremony, but the inspiration of your loyalty and affection.
