The Windsors were quite close to the Oakes family, but both had mixed feelings about the ever-present Marigny. Ironically, both apparently harbored suspicions that he was involved in some undefined but illegal business practices. Meeting Wallis, Marigny recalled: “I could understand how a frail and effeminate little man like the Duke could have lost his heart and his throne over her. She had the charm of a femme fatale, and a serene control that made her irresistible. I had a glimmer through her eyes of the warmth and passion that she disguised so well under her cool appearance.”
10
There was a great deal of tension between Oakes and his future son-in-law, but this was nothing compared to the disastrous relations which quickly developed between him and Harold Christie, his former business partner. Oakes discovered that Christie had sold land for a new RAF base behind his back to an American syndicate and cut him out of the deal. Oakes therefore began to make preparations to call in Christie’s numerous loans and to repossess his only fully owned asset, the island of Lyford Cay.
On the evening of July 7, Oakes gave a small party at Westbourne, whose guests included Christie. When a storm blew up, Christie announced that he would stay the night, for he did not want to drive home; he had also stayed over the previous evening. Before going to bed, he dismissed the two night watchmen, saying that he would see to looking after the house. That night, as the storm broke, there were wild bursts of thunder rattling the windows and lightning flashing across the tropical sky. The noise was such that no one heard the commotion in Oakes’s bedroom. The next morning, Harry Oakes was found dead in his bed; his head had been crushed by repeated blows from a blunt instrument, he had been stabbed, and the body afterward was set on fire.
At Government House, the Duke of Windsor was awakened by Maj. Gray Phillips and told of the murder. Immediately, the Duke consulted with the Nassau attorney general and chief of police; there seemed to be few clues, and the Duke, with the approval of the Nassau authorities, telephoned the Miami Police Department and asked that Capt. Edward Melchen, who had been assigned to act as his bodyguard on his most recent visit there, assist on the case. Ordinarily, a colonial governor would have consulted Scotland Yard, and the Duke was roundly criticized for his failure to follow procedure. What little evidence Melchen gathered seemed to point to de Marigny, who was eventually brought to trial for the crime but found not guilty. Officially, the crime remains unsolved, but those who knew Oakes had little doubt that Harold Christie had in fact hired an assassin to kill the man who had threatened to ruin him financially. Years later, at a party, Lady Mosley recalled hearing Lord Beaverbrook stroll up to Christie and say in a loud voice, “Come on, Harold, tell us how you murdered Harry Oakes.” Christie merely smiled and said nothing, seemingly confirming with his silence his part in the crime.
11
In August 1944 the Duke and Duchess visited Palm Beach and Newport, Rhode Island, where they stayed with their friend Robert Young. For some time Wallis had been working at her charity concerns for upwards of eighteen hours a day, six days a week. Not only was she exhausted, but her stomach ulcers, which had long been a source of constant pain, had begun to bother her again. For some time, she simply ignored the symptoms, but during their visit to the United States, the pain became so bad that she agreed to see a specialist in New York. The doctors diagnosed appendicitis, and Wallis was admitted to Roosevelt Hospital. During the surgery, her stomach was also examined; doctors noted several suspicious tumorlike growths. When a biopsy showed cancer, the malignancies were removed.
12
The operations were deemed successful, and on September 11 a crowd of five hundred cheering schoolchildren greeted the Duchess as the Duke escorted her from the hospital.
13
Upon their return to Nassau, the Duke’s thoughts turned increasingly to the day when he might leave his post in the Bahamas. He hoped that he might gain another assignment closer to home. But when he cabled Churchill with such a request, the prime minister replied with the less-than-satisfactory offer of the governor-generalship of Bermuda. “David,” Wallis wrote, “could see that this would only be exchanging one military backwater for another. Bitterly disappointed, he declined the Bermuda offer and decided to finish out his war service where he was.”
14
On her own, Wallis tried to repair relations between her husband and his family. When the Archbishop of Canterbury appointed Rev. John Dauglish, the Bishop of Nassau, to a post in London, Wallis took advantage of the fact to send a letter to Queen Mary, the first she had ever written, in which she suggested that the Queen might speak to Dauglish if she wished to learn about David’s life. The Bishop of Nassau was indeed summoned to Marlborough House, where he met with Queen Mary. She questioned him at length about the Duke’s job, but when the Bishop spoke glowingly of the work which Wallis had undertaken, the Queen made no comment. However, a few weeks later, Queen Mary wrote a rare letter to her son and ended with “I send a kind message to your wife,” the first time she had taken care to note the fact that her eldest son had a wife of almost six years. “Now what do you suppose has come over Mama?” the Duke asked upon reading the letter, unaware of his wife’s intervention.
15
By the winter of 1944 everyone had begun to realize that the war was coming to an end. The Duke, feeling that he could do nothing further with his post, formally resigned on March 15, 1945. The resignation took effect on April 30, the day on which Hitler shot himself.
The Duke had been planning for his resignation since October of the previous year. Now he had one last detail to worry over. He had written to Churchill:
Were the King and Queen to behave normally to the Duchess and myself when we pass by England, and invite us merely to tea at one of their residences, a formality which as a matter of fact is prescribed by Court protocol in the case of Colonial Governors and their wives, it would avoid any division of feeling being manifested.... It could never be a very happy meeting, but on the other hand it would be quite painless, and would have the merit of silencing, once and for all, those malicious circles who delight in keeping open an eight-year-old wound that should have been healed officially, if not privately, ages ago.
16
It was, after all, a simple request, and only the courtesy dictated by tradition, but the Duke felt so uncertain of his brother’s ability to be civil where Wallis was concerned that he raised the issue directly with the prime minister. In the end, the Duke was right to be worried. Churchill tried to intercede with the King on the Duke’s behalf; it took three months before he eventually replied in the negative. The prime minister had pleaded with the King for just one meeting with the Duke and Duchess. Gen. Charles de Gaulle had added his voice, along with Princess Alice, countess of Athlone, and the Duchess of Beaufort.
17
But all to no avail: neither the King’s wife nor his mother would agree to receive Wallis, and George VI was far too weak to stand up to the women who had dominated his life. “I do not see any prospect of removing this difficulty,” Churchill wrote. “I have not concealed my regret that this should be so.”
18
Thereafter, both the Duke and Duchess would refer to Queen Elizabeth as “that fat Scotch cook”; to Wallis, she became “the Dowdy Duchess” and “the Monster of Glamis.”
19
After four and a half years, the Duke and Duchess of Windsor left Nassau on May 3, 1945. They were showered with gifts, including a silver box presented to Wallis by the ladies of the Red Cross and a silver salver from the officers of the Royal Air Force, whom she had hosted at her canteen.
20
The Windsors left with their futures once again unsettled. “We’re right back where we were in 1938,” the Duke told Inez Robb. “When we were married, we rented a couple of houses in which to sit down and think. We wanted to find out where we wanted to live, and what we wanted to do.” “Then we were caught up in the War,” the Duchess added. “We’re not really thinking of buying a house anywhere at the moment,” the Duke continued. ”It‘s very difficult to know where to settle now.”
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Postwar Wanderings
T
HE DUKE AND DUCHESS
of Windsor could not arrange transport of their possessions from Nassau until September; they remained in New York until their affairs could be sorted out. Finally, they sailed aboard the troop ship
Argentina,
landing at Le Havre on September 22. With them they brought a seventeen-year-old Bahamian named Sydney Johnson, who was to remain in their employ until shortly after David’s death.
When they returned to Paris, the Windsors found that their house at 24, boulevard Suchet had been carefully looked after, guarded first by the U.S. embassy staff, then by the Swiss legation. Throughout, the French caretaker had remained in the house, ensuring that it stayed in good condition. Originally, the Windsors had taken the house on an extended lease, with an option to buy; by the spring of 1946, however, they had waited too long and were told that the house had already been sold. The Duke and Duchess were given six months to vacate the property; because most of their things were already packed, it only took a short time to store them and take a suite in the Ritz Hotel.
1
Paris was a city still under seige; there were frequent power cuts, ration cards, and black marketeers roaming through the streets. The Windsors managed to survive reasonably well. Wallis still gave dinner parties, although, as she noted in a letter to Aunt Bessie, the menu was often peculiar: hot dogs shipped in from the U.S., ham mousse made from tinned ham rations, canned vegetables, and black-market caviar.
2
“My husband and I joined the Windsors one evening in Paris,” an acquaintance recalls. “It was the most curious thing I ever saw. Halfway through dinner, a footman came in, carrying a bowl piled high with baked beans. Another followed with some form of meatloaf. There we were, in this very swank room, dressed to the nines, eating beans and hamburger. The Duchess explained the menu away with a short laugh and a high-pitched ‘Y’all understand that my menus have suffered a bit!’ “
3
In December they received permission from the U.S. Army, which still controlled the area, to return to La Croë. The Italian Army had occupied the property during the war but had quartered their troops in the garages rather than billet them in the main house. The entire garden and surrounding area, however, had been dug in, and over two dozen land mines had been planted about by German troops, all of which had to be removed. But the Duke and Duchess found life at La Croë far different than it had been before the war. Most of their friends on the Riviera had gone, the lush golf courses the Duke had so enjoyed had been neglected, and tourists had replaced the former elements of society. In 1949, at David’s wish, Wallis reluctantly agreed to sell La Croë.
4
During their first months back in Europe, David—unaccompanied by Wallis—returned to England on several occasions. In October he paid a private visit to his mother at Marlborough House. He arrived at Hendon Airfield aboard an RAF transport; no member of the Royal Family or anyone from the household had come to meet him. Word of the visit had leaked out, however, and crowds pushed around the gates at Marlborough House, shouting, “Good old Edward!” and “You must come back!”
5
There was a family dinner of sorts that evening: The King attended, but Queen Elizabeth, along with the Duchess of Kent, purposely remained away. David returned to London in January; he met the King at Buckingham Palace to ask if he might be granted a special role as a roving British ambassador to the United States, a position which would complement, not replace, the official ambassador in Washington, D.C. He met with several officials, but nothing came of the proposal; both the King and the government rejected it.
David returned to France, clearly frustrated at the prospect of spending the rest of his life without a meaningful job. One of the Windsors’ friends, Susan Mary Alsop, recalled: “I never saw a man so bored. He said to me, ‘You know what my day was today? ... I got up late and then I went with the Duchess and watched her buy a hat, and then on the way home I had the car drop me off in the Bois to watch some of your [American] soldiers playing football and then I had planned to take a walk, but it was so cold that I could hardly bear it. In fact I was afraid that I would be struck with cold in the way people are struck with heat so I came straight home.... When I got home the Duchess was having her French lesson so I had no one to talk to. . . .‘ ”
6
Wallis tried to step into the void. “I was frightened in his first years of idleness after the war,” she recalled. “I realized that I had to take the place of the King’s boxes—the red dispatch cases that used to bring him his daily business of state from Whitehall.”
7
Their feeling for each other was stronger than ever; Noel Coward, who saw them soon after their return to Europe, wrote: “He loves her so much, and at long last I am beginning to believe that she loves him.”
8
But, she once commented sadly to a friend, “You have no idea how hard it is to live out a great romance!”
9
That December marked the tenth anniversary of the abdication. “Ten years have passed, but not the romance,” the Duke told a reporter, smiling at the Duchess. ”It‘s gone on and on.” “I’m afraid a great deal of wishful thinking went into the predictions that our marriage wouldn’t last,” added the Duchess. “Now, we’re just a happy middle-aged couple,” David declared.
10
When Harold Nicolson met the Windsors shortly after their return to Europe, he noted that the Duke “has stopped calling his wife ‘Her Royal Highness.’ He calls her ‘the Duchess.’ I notice also that people do not bow as they used to, and treat him less as a royalty than they did when he had recently been King.” Nicolson found Wallis
much improved. That taut, predatory look has gone; she has softened. I have a talk with her alone. She says that they do not know where to live. They would like to live in England, but that is difficult. He retains his old love for Fort Belvedere. “We are tired of wandering,” she says. “We are not as young as we were. We want to settle down and grow our own trees.” He likes gardening, but it is no fun, gardening in other people’s gardens. Where can they live? They are sick of islands (after Nassau), otherwise they might go to the Channel Islands. They are sick of France. He likes America, but that can never be a home. He wants a job to do. “You see,” she says, “he was born to be a salesman. He would be an admirable representative of Rolls-Royce. But an ex-King cannot start selling motor-cars.” I feel really sorry for them. She was so simple and sincere.
11
In October 1946, Wallis and David returned to England together on a private visit for the first time since the outbreak of the war. Since no invitation was forthcoming from the Royal Family, they stayed with the Earl and Countess of Dudley at their house, Ednam Lodge, at Sunningdale, Berkshire, near Windsor Castle. The Duchess brought with her a large jewel box, roughly the size of an overnight suitcase, which was normally placed beneath her maid’s bed at night. On October 16 the Duke and Duchess went to London for the evening. Wallis had moved the jewel box into her own bedroom and apparently forgot that it was there.
At six that evening, the regular detective who accompanied the Windsors joined the rest of the staff at Ednam Lodge for dinner in the kitchen. During this time, thieves hurled a rope through the open window of Lady Dudley’s daughter’s bedroom, climbed into the house, found Wallis’s jewel case, and left Ednam Lodge, all without causing the slightest commotion. Shortly after seven, the Duchess’s maid went into her bedroom and noted the missing box. The police were quickly rung up, and the entire house was thrown into a panic. The Windsors immediately returned from London, followed by the Dudleys. R. M. Howe, assistant commissioner of Scotland Yard’s Criminal Investigatory Division, and Chief Inspector J. R. Capstick were dispatched to Ednam Lodge to investigate. They were joined by Deputy Comdr. W. R. Rawlings and Detective Sergeant Monk, along with fingerprint expert Superintendent Cherrill, who was already at work examining the windowsills and doors of the house.
12
A caddie from a nearby course reported that he had found a number of earrings scattered around the green; a more extensive search by the staff members at Ednam Lodge discovered a Fabergé box abandoned on a windowsill. Within a few hours of the crime, it became apparent that the job had been carried out by professionals.
Wallis insisted that all of the Dudleys’ staff be questioned, a reasonable enough request. But Lady Dudley found the entire episode extremely distasteful. She later wrote that Wallis now showed
an unpleasant and to me unexpected side of her character.... She wanted all the servants put through a kind of third degree, but I would have none of this, all of them except for one kitchen maid being old and devoted staff of long standing. By the following night the Duke was both determined with worry and near to tears. The Duchess started the next day with a grim face and wearing on her dress about the only jewel that remained to her. Just before we all went out for a little stroll she said, “David, put this brooch in a safe place.” On our return he could not remember where he had put it! He thought the most likely place was the room he was using for sorting the papers he had fetched from Windsor. There ensued a frantic search, but to no avail. When it was time for bed the Duchess and Eric went upstairs; it had been a grim day. The Duke said he was going to continue the search although he looked grey with worry and exhaustion. I was desperately sorry for him, and anyhow I would have stayed to help him in his search, hoping at least to find this one remaining jewel to which the Duchess appeared so attached. We stayed up most of the night; he obviously feared to go up to bed empty-handed. I made endless cups of black coffee while the Duke went through his papers, which he seemed convinced was the likeliest place. At about 5 A.M. by some miracle we found it, under a china ornament. Never have I seen a man so relieved. He was still ashen in the face but he rushed upstairs.
13
This peculiar spectacle—the former King of England crawling around on his hands and knees through the middle of the night searching for a missing jewel—has inevitably been used to cast Wallis in the worst possible light. However, it must be pointed out that at no time did Wallis ask David to search, nor did she make any scene over the incident. The perceived gravity of the situation appears to have come entirely from the Duke himself.
The robbery, however, had clearly unnerved Wallis. On the following day, the Duke and Duchess gave an interview to the press about the theft. When the Duchess was repeatedly questioned by a persistent reporter as to the type of jewels missing, she suddenly snapped from the strain and angrily declared, “A fool would know that with tweeds or other daytime clothes one wears gold, and that with evening clothes one wears platinum.”
14
The outburst was a rare display of emotion, but Wallis quickly recovered her composure. The letter she wrote to the Dudleys on November 26 was gracious, never mentioned the theft, and proved that Wallis had mastered the royal art of ignoring unpleasantnesses:
Dear Laura and Eric: The Duke and I find it impossible to express our Thanks and sincere gratitude for our visit to the Lodge—everything has been so perfect—the staff couldn’t have been better and they all have taken endless Trouble to please and we have been most comfortable and happy—I hope we have not been too much Trouble and worry to you both—if there is anything we can do for you in New York please cable.... Once again a million thanks and affectionate greetings from Wallis Windsor.
15
For the next few years, the Duke and Duchess of Windsor lived a restless existence. They moved between Paris, New York, and Palm Beach, from hotel to hotel, mansion to mansion, aboard the Cunard liners. During the first years after the war, they favored the
Queen Elizabeth;
when Capt. Harry Grattidge transferred command to her sister ship the
Queen Mary
, the Windsors also switched their allegiance. In these years, it was the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, more than any other couple, who seemed best to epitomize the sleek glamour and international chic of the famous vessels.
Life at sea for the Windsors followed a regular pattern. Aboard the
Queen Mary
, they always booked the same main-deck suite, M58, consisting of a Honduras mahogany-paneled bedroom decorated with art-deco motifs, a sitting room, and a bathroom. Before the Windsors arrived, the chief steward would be dispatched to their cabin to replace the standard Cunard linens with the Duchess’s own Porthault sheets and bath towels.
16
Each morning, David rose early and quietly slipped into the restaurant, where he sat in silence and watched as the tables were set for first service under the command of the second steward. Following a visit to the ship’s barber, he returned to the cabin, by which time Wallis would have arisen and already dressed.
17
They spent the majority of their time alone, sitting on the sun deck, reading and sipping tea; only occasionally, when they discovered friends onboard, did they socialize during the day. In the evening, at nine, they regularly dined in the Verandah Grill, an elegant restaurant and lounge overlooking the aft deck and decorated with an enormous art-deco mural of a circus painted by Doris Zinkeisen.
18