Authors: William Shawcross
In Virginia she delighted in the kindness and the southern drawls – ‘Miiiighty kind, mam, they say, taking longer than you can believe to say “mighty”.’
166
Altogether, she was delighted with her trip. She found Americans charming, courteous and reassuringly old fashioned. She was also moved by the fact that many people recalled her 1939 visit with the King, and although they did not quite understand how the monarchy worked, ‘they are prepared to look kindly on the
family.
’
167
From Washington, she flew to Ottawa on Friday 12 November. The Canadian part of her trip was briefer and more demure than that to the States, but it was happy nonetheless – ‘she was on home soil’, reported the High Commissioner.
168
Her time was spent mostly in Ottawa and, among her engagements, she opened the Bytown bridges. She drove through the city, visited City Hall and went to a performance of
Whiteoaks
at the Canadian Repertory Theatre, held in aid of
the Canadian Mothercraft Society of which she was patron. (She was aware that such voluntary organizations needed visible royal support if they were to survive at a time when most medical care was being publicly funded.) The visit rekindled affection for Canada, the Commonwealth country to which she returned most often in the remaining years of her life.
On the afternoon of 17 November the Queen Mother flew back to New York to embark in the
Queen Mary
. She gave a private dinner party on board that night and the next morning, after a leave-taking ceremony in the Verandah Grill, the ship set sail. The voyage home was much calmer than that on the way out.
Those who had witnessed the trip were in no doubt about its success. Senior British officials abroad would not be expected to criticize members of the Royal Family. But the enthusiasm of their reports on the way Queen Elizabeth carried out her duties was clearly not feigned. From Ottawa, the High Commissioner reported home that the Queen Mother had done an immense amount to strengthen ties between Britain and Canada.
169
Similarly from Washington Roger Makins enthused that she had been ‘flawless’. The informal moments – the visit to the theatre, sightseeing, the shopping expedition, her readiness to stop and talk to people – had endeared her to the American public. Her warmth was ‘so foreign to the copybook idea of Royalty in the American mind’ that she had captivated everybody.
170
Makins offered a proper cost–benefit analysis: ‘One of our most valuable assets in the world to-day is the fund of American goodwill toward Great Britain … I can think of no single action, calculated or uncalculated, which could have made a more substantial contribution to that fund of goodwill than the visit of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother.’
171
Edward L. Bernays, one of the founders of public relations in America, came to a similar conclusion, writing to
The Times
and the
New York Times
that Americans had expected the Queen Mother, like other British people, to be ‘stuffy, snobbish, snooty and unapproachable’. But in her they discovered to their delight ‘warmth, sincerity, frankness, democratic bearing and interest in American institutions and a vigor that no one had imagined a Queen could have … The Queen Mother showed Americans that there is every reason to admit that they like the English.’
172
Probably her most cherished response came in a private letter from
Winston Churchill in which he praised the success of her visit: ‘The maintenance, and continuous improvement, of friendship between the English-speaking peoples, and more especially between these Islands and the great North American Democracies, is the safeguard of the future. Your Majesty has made a notable contribution to this end, and I think it is fitting that the Ministers of the Crown should be among the first to recognise it.’
173
She had enjoyed the trip much more than she had expected. And she realized, perhaps for the first time, what a strong impact she could have as an ambassador for Britain. Her success stimulated her; now she could see that she could play a useful part in promoting both the monarchy and Britain herself in overseas visits. In the years to come foreign travel – to France, to Africa, to Australasia and to Canada again – would be a very important part of her work.
*
I
N AUTUMN
1955 Princess Margaret had to face the second crisis in her relationship with Peter Townsend. On 21 August she turned twenty-five and so, under the Royal Marriages Act, she was free to marry without the permission of the sovereign.
The last two years had not been entirely bleak. The Princess was vivacious and, if moody, also witty and often charming. She did not want for admirers. One of them, Billy Wallace,
*
confessed to Queen Elizabeth that for seven years he had been ‘a devoted, if unsatisfactory, admirer’ of the Princess.
174
Others courted the young Princess too and she was seen around town, always chic and sometimes carrying an elegant cigarette holder, with such men as Colin Tennant, son of Lord Glenconner who had been one of Elizabeth Bowes Lyon’s admirers, Dominic Elliot
†
and Mark Bonham Carter.
At the beginning of 1955 Princess Margaret had made a successful tour of the Caribbean. She liked the rhythms of life there and her
enjoyment showed; a Nassau paper commented that she resembled her mother in her warmth, humanity, simplicity and interest in people.
175
But, as the end of her two-year waiting period neared, it became clear that she and Townsend would not be left in peace to make their decision. Press speculation increased, with some papers being supportive, others merely aggressively engaged. ‘Come on Margaret! Please make up your mind,’ shrilled the
Daily Mirror
just before her birthday, which she spent quietly at Balmoral.
It was painful for her, for her mother and for the rest of the Royal Family. The Queen Mother did not find it easy to discuss intimate matters of the heart. Sometimes, as in many such emotional crises, letters were easier. In early September, she wrote warmly to her daughter about her dilemma:
My darling Margaret, I sometimes wonder whether you quite realise how much I hate having to point out the more difficult and occasionally horrid problems.
It would be so much easier to gloss them over, but I feel such a deep sense of responsibility as your only living parent, and I seem to be the only person who
can
point them out, and you can imagine what anguish it causes me.
I suppose that every mother wants her child to be happy, and I know what a miserable and worrying time you are having, torn by so many difficult constitutional and moral problems.
I think about it and you all the time, and because I have to talk over the horrid things does not mean that I don’t suffer
with
you, or that one’s love is any less. I have wanted to write this for a long time, as it is something which might sound embarrassing if said.
Your very loving Mummy
176
Princess Margaret replied at once: ‘Darling Mummie, Your letter did help so much. Thank you for writing it – as you said it’s easier to write than say – but please don’t think that because I have blown up at intervals when we’ve discussed the situation, that I
didn’t
know how you felt. I knew only too well that you were feeling for one tremendously.’ She went on to say that there were very few people to whom she could talk about her feelings, and that it was very difficult to make such decisions alone. ‘Oh dear, I meant to tell you how much
your letter meant, & I’ve only poured out a lot of complaints. But it
did
, and you will now know that
I
know what you are feeling when we next talk.’
177
She told her mother that Peter Townsend was coming over from Brussels in mid-October for them to meet and talk. Before he arrived, Queen Elizabeth talked to her daughter on the telephone from the Castle of Mey – she felt she had to be guarded ‘because one feels that so many people are listening most eagerly’. But, she then wrote, ‘I did want to say, darling, that I know what a great decision you have to make fairly soon, & to beg you to look at it from every angle, and to be
quite
sure that you don’t marry somebody because you are sorry for them. Marriage is such a momentous step and so intimate, and it is far, far better to be a little cruel & say “No” to marriage unless you are
quite quite
sure.’ She thought that some people made wonderful friends and confidants but less successful husbands. ‘Poor Peter has had a ghastly time, but I am sure that he would agree that a marriage could not be truly happy unless both were prepared to face the extraordinary difficulties with clear consciences. Oh I do feel for you darling – it is so hard that you should have to go through so much agony of mind.’
178
For Princess Margaret, the way had seemed plain. She believed that now she had turned twenty-five, should she still wish to marry Peter Townsend, the government, and by extension Parliament, would allow her marriage to go ahead without further ado, as the Royal Marriages Act permitted. It was not so simple.
Anthony Eden, Winston Churchill’s successor as prime minister, was himself divorced, but he could not or would not do battle on behalf of the Princess. After taking soundings among his Cabinet colleagues he indicated that, if asked for advice, the government could not recommend that the marriage should go ahead. And if the Princess decided to marry nonetheless, it was clear that Parliament, which under the Royal Marriages Act would have to give its permission, would not allow the third in line to the throne to enter into a marriage which the Church would not recognize. She would have to renounce her royal status.
179
On 26 October,
The Times
published a fierce editorial in which it declared that, if she chose Townsend, she would have to abandon her royal status and she would be letting down the Queen, the symbol of people’s ‘better selves’.
180
The external pressures upon Princess Margaret were immense. So were the internal conflicts. She was in love but her mother had always instructed her children, as Lady Strathmore had instructed hers, that duty came first. A convinced Christian, the Princess was of her time and she believed in the sanctity of marriage. She was also intensely loyal to her sister and to the institution in which she had grown up. She was well aware of the agony of her mother and father, and the consternation in the country, when King Edward VIII had insisted on marrying a divorced woman.
In this crisis, it is clear from the evidence, her mother and her sister both hoped above all for the Princess’s happiness; they were both careful not to push her either way. But all three of them understood how hard it would be for her if she had to renounce the whole basis of her life and change her close relationships within the Royal Family. She made up her mind.
According to the Princess herself, when she and Townsend met shortly afterwards at Clarence House, they both decided at the same moment that ‘It’s not possible. It won’t do.’ The Princess went to inform the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr Geoffrey Fisher, of her decision and he responded at once, ‘What a wonderful person the Holy Spirit is.’
181
The Princess and Townsend then worked together on a statement for her to release to the press. This went through several drafts and the final version began, ‘I would like it to be known that I have decided not to marry Group Captain Peter Townsend.’ She had been aware that, subject to her renouncing her rights of succession, she could have contracted a civil marriage, ‘But, mindful of the Church’s teaching that Christian marriage is indissoluble, and conscious of my duty to the Commonwealth, I have resolved to put these considerations before any others.’ The statement, on which the Queen Mother also gave her advice, went on to say, ‘I have reached this decision entirely alone, and in doing so I have been strengthened by the unfailing support and devotion of Group Captain Townsend.’
182
The statement was issued on 31 October 1955. The
Daily Mirror
headline was ‘DUTY BEFORE LOVE’.
The Princess received thousands of sympathetic letters and Jean Rankin helped her to reply to them. One was from her former teacher, Toni de Bellaigue, to whom the Princess was devoted. Jean Rankin wrote to her, ‘She is absolutely wonderful about it all. Fortunately
they both decided at the same time that they could not marry & so there was not the agony of one changing. Since they reached this decision some days before it was announced – they have both become progressively more sure.’ She said that the Princess, having been through agonies, was ‘amazingly calm now’ but she expected there would be a reaction at some time. ‘It seemed too much for any person to bear – this hideous publicity – and criticism. Our newspapers are really abominable … Queen Elizabeth looks very tired. The strain of these last weeks is telling.’
183
Three weeks later Princess Margaret herself wrote to Toni de Bellaigue. ‘I must tell you quickly that Peter and I are calm & rather peacefully happy’ – because they had both decided ‘at exactly the same
second
that we couldn’t get married.
That
was it – we did it together, so you see instead of feeling it a tremendous
wrench
, we were in fact joined even more strongly together by the fact that our love had been strong enough to enable us to take the more difficult course, and there we were, & our love had triumphed, in a way neither of us had ever
dreamt
could give us any satisfaction or happiness. But it has.’ Her faith, she said, had helped both of them: ‘we always dared to believe it was God’s love we were given a little of to love with, only we thought he meant us to marry – until we found out it was not so. Then, all our love, and what we had tried to do by it might have seemed in vain. But by the strength we were given to make this decision and the feeling of renewal we felt after it, we think humbly, that perhaps this is what He ordained.’
184