The Queen Mother Part 7
The d.u.c.h.ess's twenty-third birthday on 4 August had an even greater significance than usual. Not only was Prince Paul of Serbia's engagement to Princess Olga of Greece announced that morning 'so glad', she noted but James Stuart and his fiancee Rachel Cavendish had chosen the day for their wedding. The Yorks did not attend it; in the afternoon the d.u.c.h.ess sat for a portrait by Savely Sorine, while the Duke played polo at Worcester Park. Her diary for the day was melancholy. Of James and Rachel she wrote, 'hope it will be alright'. She found sitting for her portrait boring and she felt depressed. She did not state the reason, but perhaps memories of past, more carefree birthdays and other times confronted her, particularly after the light-hearted interlude with old friends at Molecomb.45 A sense of sadness does seem to infuse the portrait. Sorine showed her in a white dress on a brownish-red sofa, partly covered by green drapery. A straw hat hangs from her right arm, her engagement ring is prominent on her left hand. Her face is almost square, her eyebrows exaggerated, her eyes have little sparkle.
As usual, she left for Scotland soon after her birthday. But this year, for the first time, Glamis had to share her with Balmoral. She and the Duke went to her home first and the Prince of Wales came to stay. He wrote an unusually cheerful letter to his father shortly afterwards, saying how much he had enjoyed his visit: 'they are a very happy family there I'm so fond of Elizabeth; she is too sweet for words & she was the life and soul of the party I'm so glad she's going to be at Balmoral.'46 Once at Balmoral, the Duke spent as much time as possible out grouse shooting or stalking. The d.u.c.h.ess had fewer opportunities to escape the house. She wrote to her mother saying, with poetic licence, that most people at Balmoral were over ninety. She and the Duke were looking forward to returning to Glamis. 'It will be heavenly. There is no "family" feeling at all in this family. They are all very nice to me, & horrid to each other!'47 Her brothers-in-law in particular valued her presence. Prince George wrote to her after she had left saying how much they all missed her. 'You managed to keep the King in a good temper which was the main thing & which very few people can do least of all his sons.'48 The King and Queen were also sad to see her go. The King wrote to his son, 'We miss you very much. The better I know & the more I see of your dear little wife the more charming I think she is & everyone fell in love with her here.' The Queen's letter repeated the sentiments: 'the more I see of her the more I love her, we are indeed lucky to have got such a charming daughter in law & you such a delightful wife.'49 *
DURING THE first year of her marriage the d.u.c.h.ess attended three royal weddings and one christening, each increasing her acquaintance with her husband's extended family. The most daunting, perhaps, was the first, a double celebration in Belgrade. The son and heir of Alexander, King of the Serbs, Croats and Slovenes (the new Yugoslavia), was to be christened, and a day later King Alexander's cousin and Elizabeth Bowes Lyon's admirer Prince Paul was to marry Princess Olga of Greece.* The Duke and d.u.c.h.ess of York had agreed to be G.o.dparents to the child but had not originally intended to attend either service.
The Foreign Office initially put no pressure on them to do so, but then, at short notice, Lord Curzon persuaded the King that the presence of the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess would be an important way of showing British solidarity with the newly established Triune Kingdom. On 23 September the King telegraphed the Duke, who had just begun a short holiday with his wife at Holwick Lodge. The Duke was incensed not only by the sudden change of plan, but also because he felt that the request did not give his wife enough time to prepare for the trip. He wrote intemperately to Louis Greig, 'Curzon should be drowned for giving me such short notice. I have written to him for his reasons & also asked him to see me before leaving.' Referring to his new married status, he added, 'He must know things are different now.'50 The Duke and d.u.c.h.ess had to make swift preparations. On 27 September the d.u.c.h.ess left Holwick for a brief visit to London to find suitable clothes for the festivities in Belgrade. On the train from Darlington (the nearest station to Holwick) she scribbled a note to her husband in blue pencil on the inside of the dust jacket of a P. G. Wodehouse novel, Psmith in the City. 'My darling Darlington ... I wish you were here, but I'm glad for you to be out on the "mower" instead of in this stuffy beastly train.' She had had difficulty stopping herself laughing at the extreme politeness of the waiter who served lunch on the train. 'There was the usual crowd of slightly hysterical females at Darlington, who murmured "Isn't she sweet," gazing fondly at Catherine [Maclean, her maid].'51 Later that day, after she had arrived in London, she wrote again, self-mockingly, to 'Darling Angel', saying, 'I've really got nothing to say except that all London was decorated in honour of my arrival, and they are having fireworks everywhere tonight, in token of their delight in my return. Isn't it touching? ... Your extremely loving E.'52 In preparation for the trip, the d.u.c.h.ess had a new pa.s.sport photograph taken, ordered new clothes from Mrs Handley Seymour and bought 'some very pretty hats' in Curzon Street.53 A pair of candlesticks was bought from Garrard as a wedding present for Prince Paul.54 From Holwick the Duke wrote saying how lonely he felt without her. He had had an unsatisfactory, wet, cold day's shooting. 'Lunch was not a success. There was not enough whiskey to keep us warm & your father's brandy bottle was filled with Italian Vermouth by mistake!! Poor Barson got it in the neck!! However all is now well & peace is restored.' He was looking forward to seeing her back at Glamis on the Sunday. 'Hope you will have a good day for your clothes, hair, teeth and nose. Darling don't overtire yourself please trying on or choosing clothes as it is so bad for you.' It was nearly c.o.c.ktail time as he wrote 'and there is no you to make them. Mike no doubt will blow our heads off with his concoction.'55 In early October they returned to London and to their public duties. The Imperial Conference at which the British government recognized the rights of Dominions within the Empire to negotiate and ratify treaties with foreign powers had opened on 1 October. On 11 October the King gave a dinner at Buckingham Palace for the Dominion and Indian delegates at which the Yorks were present. The d.u.c.h.ess, wearing a tiara and white satin embroidered with pearls, was seated between the King and Stanley Bruce, the Australian Prime Minister. She also talked to the other premiers, notably General s.m.u.ts, the Prime Minister of South Africa, whom she described as 'A super man & a great one'56 this was to remain her view all her life and to Mackenzie King, the Canadian Prime Minster. All three were to act as her hosts in the years to come.
Next day they had a rather hair-raising drive (the accelerator jammed and the car ran away with them for a mile) to Northamptonshire. Shaken but not harmed, they looked over and decided to rent the Old House in Guilsborough. It was tiny (by royal standards) but the d.u.c.h.ess thought it was furnished with 'wonderful taste';57 it would be a charming place in which to be alone together for winter weekends and would enable the Duke to indulge his pa.s.sion for hunting with the Pytchley and Waddon Chase, both near by.58 The following week was filled with more fittings of clothes, dinner at Claridge's, a trip to the theatre to see a musical, Stop Flirting, starring Fred and Adele Astaire, and a dance at the Savoy. The d.u.c.h.ess loved musicals: 'I think there is nothing to beat them, & the worse, the better,' she wrote to D'Arcy Osborne, adding that she thought the Astaires 'delicious'.59 She was soon to find herself in a real-life musical comedy.
D'Arcy Osborne sent her some books to read on the train to Serbia. He appears, somewhat surprisingly for a confirmed bachelor, to have asked her opinion of the merits of marriage to a young American woman named Isabel. So she gave it: Is a bell necessary on a bicycle. That's one point against her poor girl. Now let me see Against.
1. Her name.
2. American.
3. Eight millions.
4. Indifferent features.
5. No parents.
For.
Sense of Humour.
Yes, I think you ought to marry her. The sense of humour balances everything.
She ended, 'I must stop now, and turn over the clocks, wind up the piano, & generally prepare for Adventure in the Balkans.'60 *
THEY AROSE early on the morning of Thursday 18 October to start their three-day journey. They were accompanied by Lieutenant Colonel Sir Ronald Waterhouse,* Lady Katharine Meade, the d.u.c.h.ess's lady in waiting, two valets and two ladies maids, one of them Catherine Maclean. A newspaper photographer, Arthur Ferguson, from Personality Press Ltd, travelled with the group.
The Simplon Express took them from Paris to Milan, where they visited the Cathedral before rejoining the train for Venice and then Zagreb. There, on Sat.u.r.day morning, their carriage was. .h.i.tched to a special but ancient train to take them on the long, hot journey over the plains to Belgrade.61 They were attended by footmen in pale-blue liveries with spats and vast silver b.u.t.tons. At Belgrade station that evening they were met by King Alexander and his sister, Princess Helen, as his wife Queen Marie, known as Mignon, was unwell.
After the formal greetings, the band played 'G.o.d Save the King' several times and very fast; then they were swept off to the Royal Palace 'in tiny blue victorias with white horses'. There the d.u.c.h.ess met for the first time the redoubtable 'Cousin Missy', Queen Marie of Romania, Mignon's mother and King George V's first cousin. She was an effusive and irrepressible lady, granddaughter of Queen Victoria and ever eager to promote family ties with Britain. The d.u.c.h.ess had to change swiftly for a large family dinner, which included most of the Romanian Royal Family, Queen Elizabeth of Greece and Princess Olga's family. She was seated between the King of Romania and her old friend Prince Paul. After dinner she was taken to see Mignon and her baby, Prince Peter, whose christening was next day. By the time she went to bed at 10.30, she was, she wrote, 'Tired!'62 The Palace was crowded, the midday temperature was over 70 degrees in the shade, and there was no hot water, but she enjoyed it all. 'Everything is very funny here, just like a musical comedy!' Perhaps it was all the more enjoyable because it was the opposite of Palace life in London everything was delayed.63 On Sunday morning the d.u.c.h.ess was given 'a sort of embroidered frock' to wear for the christening. She was G.o.dmother (koomitsa) and the Duke was G.o.dfather (koom). The Duke's role was, as she wrote, 'very complicated'.64 He had to carry the baby on a cushion into the church; the baby's grandmother Queen Marie of Romania and his aunt Princess John unswathed him and then the Duke handed him to the Patriarch for total immersion, as the Serbian Orthodox rites required. Unfortunately the Patriarch lost his grip on the infant, who fell into the font. The Duke reacted fast, grabbed the baby and returned him to the shaking hands of the Patriarch.65 The Duke, preceded by a deacon, then had to carry the loudly protesting child three times around the altar. He was 'simply terrified', according to his wife.66 After the service, at which the d.u.c.h.ess thought the singing was lovely, the royal party appeared on the balcony of the Palace. The crowd below cheered 'Zhivio Petar!' (Long live Peter).* That afternoon the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess drove around steaming-hot Belgrade with Prince Paul and Princess Olga and took tea on the Romanian royal yacht in the Danube. Most of the Romanian Royal Family were living on board because there was no room at the Palace.67 Next day, 22 October, the d.u.c.h.ess wore an embroidered velvet gown for their friends' wedding. 'Olga looked lovely, I thought, & it went off very well, and Paul is so happy. He was enchanted at having us there, & otherwise he had no real friends.' After a late lunch she 'skipped away', changed, and went to visit a children's hospital run by a Scottish doctor, Dr Katherine Mcphail. That evening they met the British colony at the Legation: 'Very small and all Scotch!' Meeting expatriate Scots was to become a constant of her visits abroad.
Afterwards they dined still in their day clothes, she noted before driving to the station with King Alexander.68 They had an amusing formal departure ceremony amusing because they were not really departing. The train was due to leave early in the morning but they had decided to spend the night in their own wagon lit in a siding. 'So we went through all the usual pomp, & a guard of honour, looking exactly like the male chorus of a revue, & a band, & rows of ladies with bouquets, & kisses all round, & then we steamed triumphantly out of the station, for about 20 yards, where we stopped all night! It was so funny, because it was all a sham, & they all knew it too!! You have no idea how odd they are, & so nice!'69 They liked her too: the Duke reported to his father that 'they were all enchanted with Elizabeth'.70 They arrived back in England on 25 October, having spent five of the previous seven nights on trains. It had been an exhausting but fascinating experience for the d.u.c.h.ess, and one that she had taken entirely in her stride.
CHRISTMAS 1923 was politically a difficult period. Stanley Baldwin was facing increasing problems at home and abroad. He wished to introduce Protection to defend British producers against cheap imports and on 12 November he asked the King for a dissolution of Parliament so as to seek a mandate from the nation. The King, who worried about the turmoil across Europe and believed that Baldwin would lose his gamble, attempted to dissuade him, but in vain.
Baldwin's proposal to impose import taxes raised an outcry against the prospect of expensive food, and the election was fierce. The Liberals, split between Lloyd George and Asquith, reunited under the banner of Free Trade. Lloyd George, in typically spirited fashion, called the Tories 'tinned crabs' and 'tinned salmon', the sorts of foods on which people were warned they would have to subsist, if tariffs were introduced. The Daily News published electioneering songs which proved popular enough actually to be sung at political meetings. One, a parody of the popular American song 'Yes, We Have No Bananas', went: No, we won't have Protection, We won't have Protection today.
'Twould rush up the prices And squeeze us like vices And we'd have to pay, pay, pay ...71 The years of slump had given ex-servicemen, now on the electoral register, ample time to think. As Robert Graves pointed out, they might dislike 'Socialist clap trap' but they felt they had been let down by both the major, older parties. ' "Them Socialists can't make no bigger box-up nor the old lot didn't" was the mood on many mean streets.'72 When the results came in on 6 December, Baldwin and the Conservative Party had lost eighty-eight seats; they now had only 258 Members of Parliament. The relatively new, completely untried Labour Party increased its representation from 144 seats to 191 and the number of Liberal MPs rose to 158. It was an unprecedented crisis. For the first time ever in British politics there was a three-way split; no one party could govern alone, but each of them could try to form a coalition with one of the others. In effect the Liberals held the balance of power between left and right. The King's role became critical.
Baldwin wished to resign at once, but the King considered that this would not be proper he reminded the Prime Minister that the Conservatives were still the single largest party and so it was Baldwin's duty to confront the new House of Commons and thus determine whether or not he could actually form a government. The King insisted that the sovereign 'ought not to accept the verdict of the Polls, except as expressed by the representatives of the Electorate across the floor of the House of Commons'.73 Baldwin agreed but he stressed that he was not prepared to form another coalition with the Liberals in order to keep Labour out. This caused further dismay among Conservatives, in and out of Parliament. Labour politicians were thought of by many traditionalists as 'Wild Men' who would destroy the established order, just as their comrades had in Russia. All sorts of schemes were proposed by which the monarch might use his prerogative to keep Labour out. These suggestions aroused Labour anger and one Labour leader, George Lansbury MP, warned at a meeting in Sh.o.r.editch, 'Some centuries ago, a King stood against the common people and he lost his head.'74 In similar vein, the 'Ma.r.s.eillaise' and 'The Red Flag' were sung at a meeting at the Albert Hall over which the Labour leader, Ramsay MacDonald, presided. All this was alarming, but the King remained calm, saying that he must rely upon his own judgement.75 He knew that, if and when Baldwin was defeated in Parliament, he would have to send for Ramsay MacDonald as the leader of the next-largest party. He also made it clear that he would not hamper MacDonald by imposing conditions of any sort upon him.
The run-up to Christmas was thus a period of political uncertainty, if not fear, but that did not get in the way of traditional festivities. The Yorks were busy. On 11 December they attended a concert given by the Royal Amateur Orchestral Society at the Queen's Hall in central London, and the same evening went to a charity ball. They attended the Christmas Party of the 'Not Forgotten' a.s.sociation and on 18 December the d.u.c.h.ess had a solo engagement to present the prizes at the Francis Holland School in Clarence Gate on the edge of Regent's Park. Christmas itself was to be spent at Sandringham. The contrast between the stiff formality of the royal occasion and the happy hilarity of all her Christmases past was something to which the d.u.c.h.ess did not look forward.76 She and the Duke took the train to Norfolk with other members of the Royal Family on 22 December and, after arrival at York Cottage, called that afternoon at the big house to see 'Granny, Aunt Toria & the Norways* etc. Everybody looking even older!'77 On Christmas Eve they watched the distribution of Christmas food to the tenants of the estate and then returned for tea at Sandringham House, where all the presents were laid out on a long table. The King and Queen gave their daughter-in-law a pretty bracelet and a number of smaller presents. On Christmas Day itself they all walked to church and then had lunch at York Cottage. Afterwards the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess went for a long walk. Dinner that night, for which she dressed in red velvet, was at the big house. She sat between General Sir Dighton Probyn, Queen Alexandra's ancient, eccentric, bewhiskered Comptroller, and Olav, the Crown Prince of Norway. It seems to have been a more relaxed evening than she had feared, for she recorded in her diary, 'crackers and much laughter'.78 *
NINETEEN-TWENTY-FOUR opened with another attempt by the Duke to get them rehoused. It was not easy. First of all there were not many suitable houses easily available in London and, secondly, there was the problem of the public money already spent at White Lodge; they could not simply walk away. The d.u.c.h.ess's diary recorded, 'Greig telephoned after tea to say that edeh [sic] dah a klat tuoba etihw egdol, & taht ti dah deliaf. Cifirret tnemtnioppasid.'79 At the same time, she got into a rare sc.r.a.pe with the King. On Tuesday 8 January they had returned to London from Northampton. She went to the dentist who 'froze my face', then she drove on to White Lodge. There was a busy evening ahead. They drove back into London and picked up the Prince of Wales at St James's Palace; they dined with him, and Prince George, at Claridge's and then went to the theatre. After a brief stop at St James's Palace they went on to the Midnight Follies, a nightclub and cabaret in the Metropole Hotel. There they danced. They did not get home till 3 a.m.80 Dancing and jazz had become widespread pa.s.sions since the end of the war. There were many new dance crazes the Twinkle, the Jog Trot, the Vampire, the Shimmy and later the Charleston. Journalists wrote, with typical prurience, of shocking 'Nights in the Jazz Jungle'. A Daily Mail article described 'Jazzmania' thus: 'Women dressed as men, men as women; youths in bathing drawers and kimonos. Matrons moving about lumpily and breathing hard. Everybody terribly serious; not a single laugh, or the palest ghost of a smile. Frantic noises and occasional cries of ecstasy came from half a dozen negro players. Dim lights, drowsy odours and futurist paintings on the walls and ceiling.'81 With dancing came more drinking. The Licensing Act of 1921 allowed alcohol to be served with food (often just sandwiches) after 11 p.m. But physicians expressed great concern that the younger generation were drinking more. c.o.c.ktails were denounced as 'the most reprehensible form of alcoholic abuse'.
The Metropole was the first hotel to offer dancers a large cabaret as well, and this attracted a certain notoriety. When the King heard of the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess's visit to the Follies, he was not pleased, and told Louis Greig so. Greig pa.s.sed on the reprimand and the d.u.c.h.ess noted in her diary, 'Apparently na lufwa wor tuoba eht thgindim seillof.' She wrote at once to her father-in-law. 'I am so sorry about this, as I hate to think of you being annoyed with us, or worried in any way,' she said; they had gone only to have supper there after the theatre, 'and it really is a most respectable place. I promise you we would not go anywhere that we ought not to.' She hoped he did not mind her writing, because she knew how busy he was. However, she could not resist adding a rather risky reference to fast behaviour: 'I only hope I shall not be under the influence of a drug!! As whilst you are opening Parliament, I shall be opening my jaw to the dentist, and he told me he was going to inject some "dope" into my face.'82 If his daughter-in-law's charm had its usual mollifying effect, no written response has survived; perhaps the King wrote none because he was indeed busy with matters of government. On 15 January 1924 he conducted the state opening of the new Parliament; afterwards, the Yorks had lunch with him at the Palace. The King advised the Duke to attend the House of Commons when he could 'there will be some very interesting debates which will become historical.'83 On 21 January Baldwin confronted the Commons. The Conservatives were defeated after the Liberals decided to side with Labour.
The next day Baldwin came to the Palace to tender his resignation. The King sent for Ramsay MacDonald. In his diary he noted, 'I had an hour's talk with him, he impressed me very much, he wishes to do [the] right thing.' He added: 'Today 23 years ago dear Grandmama died, I wonder what she would have thought of a Labour Govt.'84 In the event, MacDonald appointed a Cabinet with wise regard to the sensibilities of those who feared revolution. He and the King quickly established great confidence in each other. The King made a point of meeting each of his new ministers personally; he recorded in his diary that he had a very interesting conversation with the most left-wing minister of all, John Wheatley, now Minister of Health. He was impressed, writing to Queen Alexandra: 'I must say they all seem to be very intelligent & they take things very seriously. They have different ideas to ours, as they are all socialists but they ought to be given a chance & ought to be treated fairly.'85 The new men thought well of their king. One of them, J. R. Clynes, Lord Privy Seal, a former mill-hand, wrote in his Memoirs, 'I had expected to find him unbending; instead he was kindness and sympathy itself. Before he gave us leave to go, he made an appeal to us that I have never forgotten: "The immediate future of my people, and their whole happiness, is in your hands, gentlemen. They depend upon your prudence and sagacity." '86 On the day of Baldwin's defeat, the Yorks had awoken at their rented house at Guilsborough; the Duke went hunting while the d.u.c.h.ess ventured on the train from Northampton there was a train drivers strike that day and it was not clear she would get through. But a few trains were running and the station master at Northampton put on a saloon for her. She reached White Lodge at about 6.30, just after her husband had arrived by car. He left to dine with the Prince of Wales and then went to the House of Commons to witness the moment at which the Labour Party took power for the first time.87 The rest of that winter the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess spent many weekends at Guilsborough. She liked him to hunt but she was aware of the dangers and got nervous and sometimes cross if he returned late from the field. Apart from hunting, their lives were busy with official engagements, and an enormous amount of driving to and from White Lodge not to mention late nights in plenty. Thus on Tuesday 26 February the d.u.c.h.ess went out to lunch at the Berkeley with her friend Dorothe Plunket 'and I admired her baby'. (Patrick Plunket, who was born in September 1923, was to become an intimate friend of the family; his parents died in a plane crash in 1938.) This was followed by a long night out with the Prince of Wales, ending with another visit to the Metropole, despite the King's opinion of the place. They got to bed at 3 a.m. and next day, although both felt tired and unwell, they drove to London, had tea with Lady Airlie at Bruton Street and then drove back to 'Whiters' to change for a great ball at the Londonderrys'.88 On 28 February, accompanied by Louis Greig, she opened the Ideal Home Exhibition at Olympia. This outing was almost the last duty that Louis Greig undertook as the Duke of York's Comptroller. He and the Duke had agreed that he should retire, to be replaced by Captain Basil Brooke. It was a major break Greig had served the Duke with sympathy, loyalty and inspiration since 1916, as his princ.i.p.al and essential bulwark and friend. His departure was perhaps inevitable once the Duke had a wife who was not only anxious but also well able to offer him even greater support and encouragement.
In October 1923 the Prince had written to rea.s.sure his parents that the decision was mutual and necessary. 'I feel that now I am married it is better to have a change as things have not been working too smoothly and we both feel the time has come.'89 The King and Queen were nonetheless alarmed and told him so. The Prince replied to his father saying how sorry he was to have worried them and he now wished he had told them of his plan to relinquish Greig before he had done it. 'I wish I had known what I do now about how much you liked him & all the different things he did for you.'90 Inevitably rumours circulated that the d.u.c.h.ess was responsible for Greig's departure. She was dismayed by such talk and, in a letter to him the following month, she took care to express both her own and the Duke's grat.i.tude to him, adding that the Duke was troubled by these unfounded accusations. Greig replied: I was tremendously bucked up with your letter, because, although the question of ingrat.i.tude never entered my mind, I began honestly to think that I ought to have gone years ago & that Prince Bertie had been keeping me on against his will & that I ought to have seen this earlier than I did.
Your charming letter has made a tremendous difference to this feeling & Prince Bertie has also been very kind, so that all is absolutely clear again, & I can a.s.sure both you & Prince Bertie that I am at your service as long as I am needed.91 In a fond letter of 29 February 1924, the day after he left, the Prince himself a.s.sured Greig of his grat.i.tude and affection. 'A parting between two friends is always a painful ordeal, but a parting between us, I hope, is an impossibility, even an official one ... I hope and trust we shall always be the best of friends and that we shall see something of each other in the days to come.'92 At the insistence of the King and Queen, Greig remained a member of the Household, even while he embarked on a new career in the City.93 That spring, the d.u.c.h.ess was again afflicted by bouts of flu and tonsillitis. On 7 March, after attending a party for Members of Parliament at Buckingham Palace, she 'went straight back to White Lodge, & felt like death'.94 She had to spend ten days in bed. She wrote in pencil to D'Arcy Osborne, asking if he would come and see her. 'I am bubbling with talk at the moment.' She wanted to hear all about the new Labour regime at the Foreign Office. She was not, she wrote, enthusiastic about Labour, but she was very fond of her Scottish nurse from Dundee who was 'deliciously enthusiastic' about everything. 'How I love the little things of life.'95 On 23 April the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess went with the King to the opening of the British Empire Exhibition at Wembley. The King was patron of the exhibition, the Prince of Wales president, and Queen Mary patron of the Women's Section. The d.u.c.h.ess, unlike her husband, also had an important role she was president of the Women's Section. The exhibition was a major event in which sovereign and Empire were once again fused in the public imagination. In retrospect it is easy to say that by 1924 the days of empire were fading fast, but at the time it did not seem so. The Empire Collect, read at the opening ceremony by the Bishop of London, beseeched the Almighty to 'raise up generations of public men who will have the faith and daring of the Kingdom of G.o.d in them, and who will enlist for life in a holy warfare for the freedom and rights of all Thy children'. The exhibition was designed to celebrate the extraordinary achievements of Britain in the world and to draw the peoples of the Empire together.96 The Royal Family drove by car most of the way from Windsor to Wembley, and then, despite the cold, they transferred to horse-drawn carriages, in which they paraded around the packed and enthusiastic stadium. The Prince of Wales then formally invited his father to open the huge imperial collection gathered in his honour and in celebration of the Empire. The d.u.c.h.ess recorded it thus: 'David asked the King to open it and he was broadcasted.'97 In fact it was a much more momentous occasion than her words suggest this was the first time that the infant British Broadcasting Company had ever broadcast the words of the King live, the first time that millions of his subjects perhaps ten million had ever heard the King's voice.98 Wireless was still a new phenomenon. In 1919 the Marconi Company had begun transmissions from Chelmsford and the following year Dame Nellie Melba was paid the fabulous sum of 1,000 by the Daily Mail to sing into the microphone. 'Listening in' became more and more popular and in 1922, when the Post Office agreed to allow the formation of a company just to transmit, the British Broadcasting Company was created. (It was elevated to the dignity of a Corporation four years later.) It was to be organized by wireless manufacturers, and from the start it was run with close supervision by the state. The medium boomed. Stations were set up all around the country. Enthusiasts created 'crystal' sets from odds and ends to pick up whatever transmissions they could. Tall poles were erected in gardens for aerials and young boys all over the country were seen hunched over sets, earphones clamped to their heads, fingers twisting dials.
Inevitably there were technical problems with the King's broadcast. The BBC had set up large Marconi polarized moving-coil microphones on either side of the royal dais, and the sound was run through a nearby BBC booth down Post Office lines to Savoy Hill. The first few minutes of the broadcast were lost, but by the time the King rose the system had been repaired. At the end of his speech he said, 'We believe that this Exhibition will bring the peoples of the Empire to a better knowledge of how to meet their reciprocal wants and aspirations ... And we hope further that the success of the Exhibition will bring lasting benefits not to the Empire only, but to mankind in general.'99 The Times reported the moment with enthusiasm. 'There were no chatterings nor scufflings among the children now. There was not a whisper, scarce even a stifled cough (and we are still in April and this is England) in all the great a.s.sembly. So great was the silence that a creaking door and an echo ... were the only sounds that crossed in the smallest degree His Majesty's clear, rich tones.'100 The broadcast was relayed around the world, marking the beginning of a revolution in communications which would transform society and, within Britain, have far-reaching repercussions on the role and image of the monarchy.
The Royal Family toured the exhibition, where visitors could watch a re-enactment of the Zulu wars and journey from pavilion to glamorous pavilion on the 'Neverstop Train', viewing the verities of Australia, the exoticism of Malaya, the glorious paG.o.das of Burma and, above all, the fabulous treasures of the Jewel in the Crown, India.* Among the most popular exhibits and certainly the longest lasting was the intricate miniature mansion designed by Lutyens and known as Queen Mary's Doll's House, which is still viewed, at Windsor Castle, by hundreds of thousands of people every year. For the d.u.c.h.ess, there was probably more panoply than refreshment at Wembley that day. It was impressive, but cold, and by the time she arrived back in Windsor she had a chill and went to bed feeling 'rotton'.101 She was advised to have a series of inoculations against tonsillitis; the injections were unpleasant and not obviously helpful.102 There were not, in those days, many female members of the Royal Family able to undertake public duties. If the d.u.c.h.ess wished to play a significant role in the public life of the monarchy, there was much she could do. Before her marriage she had already undertaken more public activities than many of her age; she had been a commissioner in the local Girl Guides and she had often helped her mother in church and village functions. But she knew very little about life in the cities or about the industrial world.
During her long life she was to become patron of a large array of charities and organizations. But she began this part of her career in an almost haphazard manner. The first charities she took over were those which Princess Christian, Queen Victoria's third daughter, who had been much interested in nursing and other charities, had patronized until her death in June 1923. These included the North Islington Welfare Centre and Wards, the Young Women's Christian a.s.sociation, the Mothercraft Training Society and the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children. Another was the Royal Hospital and Home for Incurables at Putney. She took a keen interest in the work of the hospital over the decades that followed; at one stage she asked whether its name might not be changed, but the patients themselves wished it to continue as it was.103*
As her gift for raising funds for charities was already clear, she was ideally suited to play a leading role in what later became known as the 'welfare monarchy'. In early November 1923 she and the Duke visited Manchester to help one of its hospitals raise money to clear a 70,000 debt; on 23 November she opened the bazaar at the Working Men's College in St Pancras.
On 29 November the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess visited the Queen's Hospital for Children in Bethnal Green and that night they were the patrons of a ball at Claridge's in aid of the hospital. The next day they visited the Royal Free Hospital in the Gray's Inn Road on behalf of the Scottish Women's Hospitals' a.s.sociation, of which the d.u.c.h.ess had recently become president. That same evening they attended the St Andrew's Eve Ball (again at Claridge's) in aid of the Royal Free Hospital's Women's and Babies' Annexe. Writing to invite the d.u.c.h.ess to the ball, the a.s.sociation's secretary had been blunt about the 'royal effect' which helped charities so much: 'The sale of tickets would be mere child's play, if Her Royal Highness would graciously consent to this.'104 She already possessed an enduring and deeply felt interest in the armed forces. This grew naturally from her childhood, from her brothers' service, the death of Fergus and her experiences in caring for sick and wounded servicemen at Glamis. The war-wounded became a particular focus for her. At the time of her marriage there were still almost 19,000 wounded soldiers in hospital. In July 1924 she and her husband attended a garden party for a thousand disabled soldiers, sailors, airmen and their nurses in the grounds of Hampton Court. She talked with many people. A letter of thanks afterwards said, 'Her Royal Highness was absolutely wonderful, you cannot imagine it without seeing it, the way the unfortunate, disabled men crowded round her gave one a lump in the throat, no wonder she is so popular.'105 At the same time she became accustomed to the rituals of royal public life: laying foundation stones, opening new buildings, attending anniversaries events by which the inst.i.tutions involved set great store.
SAt.u.r.dAY 26 APRIL was the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess's first wedding anniversary, and the d.u.c.h.ess gave her husband a pair of cufflinks from Cartier. That afternoon they stood in for the King at the Cup Final at Wembley. Newcastle was playing Aston Villa before an enormous, enthusiastic crowd; the d.u.c.h.ess sat next to Ramsay MacDonald, who was very talkative, she recorded; and there was 'terrific excitement' when Newcastle won with two goals in the last five minutes.106 Summer gaiety was breaking out and they spent many evenings at dinners and b.a.l.l.s in great London houses, or at one of the many thriving clubs and grand hotels. They frequently went out dining and dancing with the Prince of Wales, to whom they were both very close, and his friends.
By the beginning of June they had managed, to their relief, to move to Chesterfield House in Mayfair, loaned to them for the summer by Princess Mary and her husband Viscount Lascelles. On 3 June they gave a party for about seventy people and danced until the early hours. Among those who came were Fred Astaire and his sister Adele, and sixty-five years later Queen Elizabeth could still recall the 'thrill' of dancing with Fred.107 There were several royal visits to occupy them as well. On 12 May they formally welcomed the King and Queen of Romania at Victoria station at the start of their state visit, and attended the banquet in their honour that night. On 26 May it was King Victor Emmanuel III and Queen Elena of Italy who came; the Yorks went to the Guildhall lunch in their honour the following day and took their children, Princess Mafalda and Crown Prince Umberto ('Beppo'), to a polo match at Ranelagh.108 In July they were on duty again for the visit of the heir to the throne of Ethiopia, Ras Taffari (later Emperor Haile Sela.s.sie).
More testing was their trip to the most difficult part of the United Kingdom, Northern Ireland, which was still riven with tensions between the Protestant Unionist majority and the Catholic nationalists. This was their most significant official visit to date, the first time any member of the Royal Family had been to Northern Ireland since the King had opened the new Ulster Parliament in June 1921.109 The formal invitation came in March 1924 from the Duke of Abercorn, the Governor of Northern Ireland, 'on behalf of the people of Northern Ireland'.110 They spent a week in the province, from 19 to 26 July, and were welcomed everywhere with great enthusiasm by Ulstermen fiercely loyal to the United Kingdom. The d.u.c.h.ess's diary gives the flavour of a remarkable week. To avoid civic ceremonies before reaching Northern Ireland, they sailed from the small port of Stranraer rather than Liverpool, on the morning of Sat.u.r.day 19 July. Even at Stranraer, official presentations and crowds were inescapable. 'At 9.30 the Provost appeared with an Address of welcome & a huge crowd. At 10 we went on board HMS Wryneck & sailed for Bangor. Marvellous day. We sat on the bridge & drank champagne & had great fun.' They landed some three hours later, to a 'great reception thousands of people'.111 They then drove to the Governor's official residence, Clandeboye,* near Bangor, where the fun continued. The Duke of Abercorn's wife was ill, so his daughter, the d.u.c.h.ess's old friend Katie Hamilton, acted as hostess. She had invited their mutual friend Helen Hardinge to help. Having her friends there made the stay much more enjoyable for the d.u.c.h.ess, and Helen wrote a lively account of it all in her diary. The d.u.c.h.ess asked her to sing 'The Bells of h.e.l.l', they played poker until the early hours and constantly gossiped together. At one point she recorded that the Duke, absorbed in looking at some jungle prints, did not come when his wife called him. 'The corners of her mouth went down after the third attempt & putting both hands on his shoulders she said angelically: "Bertie do listen to me." He kissed her and came at once. The wisdom of the serpent!'112 On Monday 21 July, they set off for Belfast. Messrs Armstrong Siddeley had lent them two Landaulette convertibles in which they could be better seen. They were given honorary degrees at Queen's University and then the Duke unveiled the University's war memorial. After a luncheon 'with speeches and much noise', they moved on to the Ulster Hall, where the Duke received addresses and made a speech which his wife judged to have gone very well. That evening they attended a dinner and a reception at Stormont Castle.113 After the reception there was a supper, but according to Helen Hardinge's diary the d.u.c.h.ess complained that it went on too long, preventing her from shaking hands with enough of the guests. 'When I do a thing I like to do it well and feel people are satisfied.'114 The following day was filled with engagements. The Duke laid the foundation stone of the new City Art Gallery, and they visited the York Street Spinning Mills. At a lunchtime banquet in City Hall the Lord Mayor, seated next to the d.u.c.h.ess, seems to have set light to himself with his cigar. According to her diary, he 'burst into flames! Very nice speeches & great excitement.'115 The Duke received the Freedom of the City, the d.u.c.h.ess a present of silver from the women of Belfast. Finally, in a last-minute addition to the schedule, they fitted in a crowded reception for about 2,000 people, before leaving on a special train. That night was spent with the Abercorns at their home, Barons Court; the d.u.c.h.ess was tired and went to bed at 10.30. A day of recuperation in the company of Katie and Helen followed; in her characteristic phrase, she 'talked hard' with Katie.116 The d.u.c.h.ess was surprised by how warm the welcome was even in Londonderry, the heart of republicanism, where they went on 24 July. 'Up by 9.30 in my grey cloak and hat. Rainy morning ... Arrived Derry at 11. Considering that more than half are Nationalists, we had a marvellous welcome. Drove to Town Hall, & got the Freedom.' They toured the City and County Infirmary, attended yet another civic luncheon and reception, and left by train for Belfast, stopping at Coleraine, Ballymoney and Ballymena, where the Duke laid the foundation stone of the new town hall. Arriving in Belfast in the evening, they were met by 'more huge crowds, who shrieked & yelled', before continuing on to Mount Stewart, the home of Lord and Lady Londonderry, where they were to spend the next two nights. It had been 'a very long day!' as the d.u.c.h.ess recorded; and the next day was spent quietly at Mount Stewart. On their last evening their hosts gave a dinner at which the d.u.c.h.ess sat between Lord Londonderry and the Primate of Ireland (the Most Rev. Charles D'Arcy, Archbishop of Armagh), and then 'danced hard, until 2!', with their host, her husband and others.117 On Sat.u.r.day, a lovely day, the d.u.c.h.ess went for a walk along the seash.o.r.e with Dorothe Plunket. After lunch she changed into a grey crepe de Chine dress with a pink hat, and she and the Duke then made their way by car and train through cheering crowds, stopping to be presented with bouquets, and ending eventually at Belfast Harbour. At 6.15 they set sail in HMS Wryneck once more. 'The visit was a great success I think. We sat on the bridge & talked & drank champagne. Very nice people.'118 The visit was indeed deemed a success. The Duke wrote afterwards to his father to say that their reception had been astounding. 'Elizabeth has been marvellous as usual & the people simply love her already. I am very lucky indeed to have her to help me as she knows exactly what to do & say to all the people we meet.'119 *
ON 11 AUGUST their happy time at Chesterfield House came to an end. Reluctantly they had to move back to White Lodge. First, though, there was the pleasure of late summer in Scotland. They went north, stopping at Studley Royal near Ripon to stay with the Vyners and then on up to Edinburgh, where they saw the d.u.c.h.ess's sister May Elphinstone and her children, of whom the d.u.c.h.ess was very fond.* Then it was further north to Glamis and Balmoral for the rest of August and September. It is clear from correspondence and diaries that they both found Glamis the more congenial and more restful home.
The King's regime at Balmoral had not relaxed. No c.o.c.ktails were allowed, no card games either. The guest lists rarely changed and included a succession of ministers invited more for business than for pleasure, and two old friends of the King, Canon Dalton and Sister Agnes. Dalton, a formidable autocrat, had been George V's tutor and was a canon of Windsor.* Now in his eighties, he was tall and stooped and some thought he looked as if he had been quarried from the same stone as the Castle. He was arrogant with his peers in the Chapter and his humour, though boisterous, was not always well considered. According to George V's biographer, Kenneth Rose, he took to reading the lessons in a dramatic manner 'he endowed the Almighty with a thundering ba.s.s and Isaiah with a piping falsetto.'120 Miss Agnes Keyser, known as Sister Agnes, was the founder and Matron of King Edward VII's Hospital for Officers, which in those days was in Grosvenor Crescent off Hyde Park Corner. She had been a friend of King Edward and it was said that she had enabled him to meet his companion Mrs Keppel in her house. She liked to have patients from the Household Cavalry and the Brigade of Guards and she is reported to have been rather malicious. Harold Nicolson observed that she 'enjoyed repeating to the King, not always with useful results, the talk of the town'.121 This talk often included the latest gossip about the adventures of the King's sons, in particular the Prince of Wales. She was one of the few people privileged to have her own key to Buckingham Palace garden and so she had ample opportunity to repeat to the King whatever stories she had acquired about the Princes and 'bad women', a source of continual anxiety to the monarch. At Balmoral she cut a remarkable figure striding across the moors dressed in mauve and wearing an orange wig.122 But she and Canon Dalton were perhaps not ideal companions for young people who had driven many miles for dinner. When on one occasion the King asked the Labour minister J. H. Thomas, a former railwayman whose company he enjoyed, why his sons did not spend more time at Balmoral, Thomas was frank: 'It's a dull 'ouse, Sir, a b.l.o.o.d.y dull 'ouse.'123 In September 1924 the d.u.c.h.ess wrote to her mother from Balmoral, saying that she had been meaning to write every day 'but somehow it is so boring that I felt there was nothing to tell you!! However the King & Queen are in very good form, and we are both very popular!' There were consolations. 'There are one or two quite nice old men here, who only appear at meals.' And there was about to be a ghillies' ball 'the Queen is simply thrilled', the d.u.c.h.ess commented for Queen Mary loved dancing.124 The 'old men' were Lords Rawlinson and Revelstoke. Rawlinson was Commander-in-Chief of the Army in India and a much decorated First World War commander. John Baring, second Baron Revelstoke, was Receiver General of the Duchy of Cornwall and a director of the family bank. For all the boredom of Balmoral, both there and elsewhere it was part of her apprenticeship as the King's daughter-in-law to meet men (and some women) of consequence, and such encounters no doubt helped form her abiding interest in the nation's welfare, the Empire and the role of the monarchy.
They returned to the more convivial circ.u.mstances of Glamis in the second half of September. When the Duke drove back up to Balmoral at the end of the month for more stalking, they exchanged affectionate letters across the hills. In one he told the d.u.c.h.ess how much he missed her and was thinking of her. 'Don't get frightened at night sleeping all alone darling in that enormous bed,' he wrote.125 She replied at once: 'I miss you dreadfully and am longing for Monday, when I hope you will arrive here sunburnt, manly & bronzed, bearing in your arms a haunch of venaison roti as a love offering to your spouse ... Goodbye darling, it seems all wrong that we shouldn't be together, doesn't it from your very, very loving Elizabeth.' She added a PS asking if 'Mama', the Queen, might have any trifle for a bazaar in Dundee in aid of a charity she would cherish all her life. This was the Lord Roberts Workshops, which offered training and employment to disabled servicemen and became for many decades part of the fabric of British society.* They were raising funds to help some 300 disabled men, she wrote. 'It's not so much a matter of money to keep them alive, it's a matter of money to keep their self respect alive by giving them work & saving them from the street corners. I am very keen about it.'126 He responded with equal affection, saying that it was too cold to enjoy stalking and that he was bored at Balmoral. He was longing for Monday and would be back at Glamis in time for lunch.127 On Thursday 9 October they went to the bazaar together, and were met by officials at the Dundee City Boundary. They drove in an open car to the Caird Hall, where the d.u.c.h.ess opened the bazaar with a short speech. Then she and the Duke fought their way through the crowd who had come to see them and spent some time selling goods at the Forfarshire stall. Afterwards, the Duke wrote to his mother that the items she had sent fetched 20 and altogether they made a good deal of money 'as everybody wanted to buy things from Elizabeth'.128 The sale easily sped past its goal of 10,000, raising twice as much.
The Dundee bazaar coincided with another political crisis which had the King hurrying down by night train from Balmoral to London. Ramsay MacDonald had called a vote of confidence on his handling (or mishandling) of a charge of sedition first brought and then dropped against the acting editor of a communist paper which had incited troops to disobey orders to move against strikers. MacDonald lost the vote and went to the Palace on 9 October to ask the King to dissolve Parliament. King George V was reluctant, fearing the harmful impact of a third election within two years. But there was no alternative.
The resultant election in November 1924 was dominated by dubious allegations about the Labour government's closeness to the Bolshevik government in Russia. MacDonald lost and the Conservatives were returned to power under Baldwin. The King showed no pleasure in Labour's defeat and warned Baldwin against humiliating the socialists; he was concerned above all about the danger of cla.s.s war. The Conservatives, he thought, should at once get to grips with the problems of housing, unemployment and the cost of food and education. The d.u.c.h.ess greeted the change of government with more enthusiasm. In her diary she exclaimed, 'The election news wonderful, already great Conservative majority. Everybody relieved hopes for a year or two of comparative peace.'129 To her mother she wrote, 'wasn't the election marvellous especially in Scotland. One feels so much safer.'130 In the next few weeks the d.u.c.h.ess made her final preparations for what would be a defining experience. She and the Duke were to visit East Africa. King George VI's official biographer, John Wheeler-Bennett, wrote of the origins of the tour only that the Duke had long wanted to 'see something of the British Empire at first hand' and that, an exhausting year and a half after their marriage, he and his wife badly needed a holiday. The d.u.c.h.ess's biographer Dorothy Laird speculated that the Duke also hoped to help his wife avoid the winter bouts of tonsillitis with which she had been repeatedly afflicted. There is probably truth in both explanations. It was a joy for them to get away together and the four-and-a-half-month journey was unforgettable both for the thrill of discovering Africa and for the freedom which they could never enjoy at home.
* At this time Mrs Greville in fact intended to leave the house to the Duke of York. As a childless widow, she wrote to King George V in 1914 to say that, in recognition of King Edward VII's kindness to her after her husband's death in 1908, she wanted to leave Polesden Lacey to one of the King's sons. The King accepted, because she had no near relations, and Queen Mary went to visit Mrs Greville at Polesden Lacey. (RA GV/PRIV/AA48/810) It was evidently decided between them that Prince Albert should be chosen (the Prince of Wales, as heir to the throne, enjoyed the income of the Duchy of Cornwall and had no need of such munificence), and thereafter Mrs Greville took a special interest in him, writing to Queen Mary about him and inviting him to parties in London and Surrey. His accession to the throne before Mrs Greville's death meant that he had no need of Polesden Lacey, and Mrs Greville left it to the National Trust.
* Lady Loughborough had just returned from Australia, as she recorded in her memoirs. Her friend 'Ali' Mackintosh gave a party at the Emba.s.sy Club that night no doubt the occasion to which the d.u.c.h.ess's diary refers. Lady Loughborough wrote: 'The Prince of Wales was with us and Freda, of course, also the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess of York. (Prince Bertie, now the Duke of York, had married the little debutante we had seen in the doorway of Eresby House three years before, Elizabeth Bowes Lyon).' (Princess Dimitri, 'Waltzing Matilda', p. 48) Prince Serge Obolensky (18901978), a Russian emigre, with whom, according to her memoirs, Sheila Loughborough had been in love at the time of the Duke of York's infatuation with her. Obolensky was formerly married to Princess Yurievsky, daughter of Tsar Alexander II. In 1924 he married Alice Astor (190256), daughter of John Jacob Astor IV; he was the first of her four husbands. She was a patron of the arts, especially the ballet.
This was York Cottage at Sandringham. The Duke had chosen all the carpets, wallpapers and furniture with the help of his father, his sister and a man from Maples, a sadly frustrating experience for his wife, who loved arranging rooms. (James Pope-Hennessy, Queen Mary, pp. 2758) * Lady Katharine Meade (18711954), daughter of fourth Earl of Clanwilliam. The d.u.c.h.ess of Albany, to whom she had been lady in waiting, was the widow of Queen Victoria's youngest son Prince Leopold, Duke of Albany.
* The fashion correspondents whose descriptions of the outfits worn by ladies attending the Yorks' wedding appeared in the London press commented on the preponderance of these muted colours among the smartest ensembles.
Savely Sorine, Russian portrait painter (18871953). Sorine was a student of Repin at the Academy of Beaux Arts in Petrograd, where he won the Prix de Rome. He went into exile after the Russian Revolution and exhibited his work widely, including at the Salon d'Automne in Paris in 19223, and at the International Exposition of Pittsburgh in 19234. In 1948 he painted a portrait of Princess Elizabeth, intended as a companion piece to that of Queen Elizabeth: both are painted in watercolour on paper. The two portraits (RCIN 453400, 453399) today hang in Clarence House.
* The other two royal weddings in 1923 were those of Lady Louise Mountbatten to the Crown Prince of Sweden on 4 November and of Princess Maud, daughter of Louise, Princess Royal, to Lord Carnegie on 12 November.
* Waterhouse had been private secretary and equerry to the Duke of York in 1921, but had become princ.i.p.al private secretary to the Prime Minister a year later. He was seconded to act as equerry to the Duke for this trip.
* Crown Prince Peter came to the throne only eleven years later when his father, King Alexander I, was a.s.sa.s.sinated while in Ma.r.s.eilles. The young King Peter II was forced into exile after the German invasion in 1941. He took refuge in Britain and later joined the RAF. He was deposed in absentia in 1945 and died in the United States in 1970.
This was the Anglo-Serbian Children's Hospital. 'It is the only one in all Serbia, and does marvellous work,' the d.u.c.h.ess recorded. (RA QEQM/PRIV/DIARY/3) * Queen Alexandra, her daughter Princess Victoria, King Haakon VII of Norway, his wife Queen Maud (Queen Alexandra's youngest daughter) and their son Crown Prince Olav.
* Bertie Wooster, one of the d.u.c.h.ess's literary heroes, went to the exhibition with his friend Biffy (in the 1924 short story 'The Rummy Affair of Old Biffy'), and it is perhaps fair to say that his mind was on other things than the glory of empire: 'By the time we had tottered out of the Gold Coast and were working towards the Palace of Machinery, everything pointed to shortly executing a quiet sneak in the direction of the rather jolly Planter's Bar in the West Indian section ... A planter, apparently, does not consider he has had a drink unless it contains at least seven ingredients, and I'm not saying, mind you, that he isn't right.'
The spelling she invariably used, from childhood onwards.
* The Royal Hospital's name was changed to the Royal Hospital and Home, Putney, in 1988, and to the Royal Hospital for Neuro-Disability in 1995.
The term was coined by Frank Prochaska in his influential study, Royal Bounty: The Making of a Welfare Monarchy (1995).
* Clandeboye was the family home of the Marquess of Dufferin but was used as an official residence by the Duke of Abercorn, whose own home, Barons Court in County Tyrone, was too far from Belfast.
* Throughout their lives, the Elphinstone children called her Peter and she signed all her letters to them with that name. This tradition appears to have begun when, in her childhood, Elizabeth Elphinstone found the name Aunt Elizabeth difficult and called her Peter instead. And Peter it remained ever after.
* Rev. John Neale Dalton (18391931), Canon of St George's Chapel, Windsor 18841931, was the father of Hugh Dalton (18871962), Chancellor of the Exchequer in Attlee's government 19457.
* The charity, Lord Roberts Memorial Workshops, was inspired by Field Marshal Lord Roberts of Kandahar, known as Bobs, one of the most distinguished and popular military commanders of the Victorian era. He was dedicated to the cause of disabled ex-servicemen and, after his death in 1914 while visiting troops at the Front, workshops bearing his name were expanded around Britain in his memory. After both world wars they rescued thousands of severely wounded soldiers from dest.i.tution and taught them skills; for decades soldiers earned a living producing furniture, brushes, toys, baskets and other household goods.
The d.u.c.h.ess of York sustained her support and affection for this charity all her life. In 1938, as queen, she gave the Royal Warrant of Appointment to all eleven Lord Roberts Workshops. She made over sixty visits to the Dundee workshop, the last in 1994, following its merger with Blindcraft to create Dovetail Enterprises.
CHAPTER SIX.
ON SAFARI.
19241925.
'Best bit of one's life'
ON 27 JUNE 1924 the d.u.c.h.ess had sat next to Winston Churchill at dinner and had an 'interesting conversation' with him.1 They talked about Africa Churchill had his own personal experience as a guide. He had made an East African journey himself in 1907, as under secretary of state at the Colonial Office in the Campbell-Bannerman government. He described the trip in his book My African Journey and one can imagine that at dinner he excited her interest with his vivid memories.
Recalling her own African tour seventy years on, Queen Elizabeth explained, 'Winston was extraordinary. I remember sitting next to him at dinner just after we were married and he said, "Now look here, you're a young couple. You ought to go and have a look at the world. I should go to East Africa," he said. "It's got a great future, that country." So we did ... And I have always been grateful to him, you know, because I don't think we would have thought of going.'2 Her memory of his intervention was quite correct. Churchill followed up their conversation. On 10 July, he wrote to her to say he had approached Edward Marsh,* private secretary to J. H. Thomas, the Colonial Secretary, about 'Your Royal Highness's wishes & plans about a tour in East Africa and Uganda'. Marsh had reported back that Thomas was 'vy favourably impressed with the idea'. But he added that Thomas wanted to see how the couple's forthcoming trip to Ulster went before committing himself to a full-scale colonial tour.3 Like everyone else, he was unprepared for the extraordinary success of the Irish visit, due in good measure to the personality of the d.u.c.h.ess herself.
Quite apart from securing the permission of the government, there was also the small matter of the King, whose acquiescence could never be taken for granted. The Duke seems not for the first time to have approached his irascible father through his more sympathetic mother. On 14 July the d.u.c.h.ess's diary has a rare entry in her husband's hand: 'Good day.' The reason is soon clear. While the d.u.c.h.ess was replying to Churchill's letter, the Duke went to see the Queen 'about our winter trip', and that very evening they received the King's consent. 'Marvellous,' the d.u.c.h.ess wrote.4 Over the next few months she had the pleasure of looking for clothes, and the discomfort of being inoculated against many diseases. The King and Queen offered to give the Duke as a Christmas present something that he needed for the trip; their son asked if they would pay for the tin cases he had had to get these, he said, would cost 'certainly not more than 20'.5 The prospect was thrilling. For the d.u.c.h.ess, the first year of marriage had meant learning to live under the watchful eye of both the public and the Royal Family; apart from their winter weekends in Northamptonshire she and her husband had had little time alone together. And for a pa.s.sionate sportsman like the Duke the idea of a big-game safari had immense appeal. This was the heyday of such adventures. Firms like Safariland Ltd of Nairobi and London were practised in supplying tents and equipment. White hunters were there to guide and protect inexperienced and nervous travellers, and numerous African trackers, gun-bearers, porters, cooks and 'boys' were provided to ensure that life was as comfortable in the bush as could be managed. In Kenya the building of the Uganda Railway (18951903) from Mombasa to its terminus on Lake Victoria had opened up the untouched interior of a country which teemed with wildebeest, buffalo, zebra, eland, giraffe, oryx, gazelle, waterbuck, lions, cheetahs, leopards and hyenas. Plentiful opportunities for duck shooting and fishing existed. In Uganda there was the extra attraction of elephant and white rhino, while the Sudan held out the prospect of sailing down the Nile aboard a comfortable paddle-steamer, with exciting expeditions ash.o.r.e after more elephant, antelope of all kinds and even crocodiles.
Many young women of the d.u.c.h.ess's background might have been daunted by the prospect of four months in the wilderness. She had never been out of Europe before; travelling in Africa even with the service they would enjoy still held elements of risk and unpredictability; and although most of the trip was to be holiday, she and the Duke would still at all times be representing the British Crown. She did have misgivings, writing to D'Arcy Osborne, 'I am feeling slightly mingled in my feelings about going to Africa, as I hate discomfort, and am so afraid that I shall not like the heat, or that mosquitoes will bite my eyelids & the tip of my nose, or that I shall not be able to have baths often enough, or that I shall hate the people. On the other hand I think it