Author: royaltyrobert

Contributor to Majesty Magazine and social sharing sites. Interested in the history and current undertakings of all the Royal Houses of Europe.

Queen Mother Helen of Romania Part 1: Childhood and Exile.

With the recent news that the mortal remains of Her Late Majesty Queen Mother Helen of Romania are to be brought from Lausanne, Switzerland to Romania, in October, to be reinterred in the New Metropolitan Cathedral at Curtea de Argeș, alongside her son King Michael, I feel the time is right to examine the life of the Greek-born Queen Mother.

Part 1-Childhood into Womanhood.

Princess Helen of Greece and Denmark was born in Athens on 2 May 1896, the third child of Crown Prince Constantine and his wife Sophie (a daughter of the German Emperor, Frederick III). The Greek royal family-a misnomer if ever there was one, as not one member at that time possessed Greek blood-were unusually close and were presided over by Helen’s paternal grandfather, King George I of the Hellenes and his Russian-born wife, Queen Olga. George (born Prince Wilhelm of Denmark and second son of the future King Christian IX) had been ‘imported’ from his native Copenhagen, some thirty-three years earlier, to occupy the vacant Hellenic throne at the request of the Great Powers of France, Great Britain and Russia. ‘Willi’ hated pomp and ceremony and liked nothing better than to walk the streets of Athens, often stopping to talk to his subjects. Unsurprisingly, the Greek Court soon gained the reputation of being the most democratic in Europe.

Helen’s childhood was spent at the newly-constructed Crown Prince’s Palace in Athens. The ‘clannish’ household had some strange habits; lunch was served at 11am; while dinner was eaten at 3pm prompt. Each Tuesday, all of the royal family dined together at the home of Prince Nicholas, while on a Thursday it was the turn of the Crown Prince to act as host. As Queen Olga was devout, she ensured that her eldest granddaughter received religious instruction according to the rites of the Greek Orthodox Church. Helen was also required to attend Sunday service in her grandmother’s private chapel at the Royal Palace (during Holy Week and Easter attendance was on a daily basis). This was followed by a stroll through the Royal Gardens in the company of the King and Queen and other family members. Furthermore, from a young age, the Princess was driven in an open carriage, accompanied by liveried footmen, through the streets of Athens, the Evzone sentries ‘presenting arms’ as she passed through the palace gates. Although such excursions may have brought Helen some pleasure, the exercise was also designed to instil a sense of royal dignity in the child, for the tall, elegant and dutiful Crown Princess Sophie was a stickler for protocol and good manners. This extended to instructing her eldest daughter on how to return military salutes and acknowledge the greetings of bystanders.

Yet, the emphasis was also on fun: Summer afternoons were invariably spent swimming with her siblings and cousins at Phaleron or learning to ride under the instruction of an English groom. However, as with all the royal children of her generation, the warm summer months were spent at the royal family’s country residence at Tatoi, a wooded estate some 21 kilometres north west of the Greek capital. The estate was far from Greek in character and reflected the heritage of both the King and Queen. The main residence was modelled on the Gothic Cottage at Peterhof Palace, on Russia’s Baltic coast, while the estate also boasted a Danish dairy overseen by a Danish manager. The cattle producing the milk also came from King George’s homeland. However, Helen was more impressed by the roar of the stags in the nearby mountains or the annual feudal feasts attended by local people in native dress to celebrate Queen Olga’s birthday. The Princess also delighted in joining her grandfather for his anniversary festivities. These invariably involved sailing on the royal yacht to a different port each year, where the royal party would then disembark to attend a celebratory Te Deum service at the local church, followed by a reception hosted by the Mayor at the local Town Hall.

War and tragedy also pervaded Helen’s childhood. The Greek nation had fought hard to obtain its independence from Ottoman rule and the King and his advisors were determined to maintain the status quo. As early as 1897, the Greeks had engaged Turkish forces over the future status of the island of Crete which, although under Ottoman rule, had a Christian majority desirous of union with Greece. This contretemps ended in a heavy defeat for Greece. Then, in 1912, there were further clashes with the Turks in the Balkans, over Ottoman oppression of the Christian section of the population in Thrace and Macedonia. Helen’s father was Commander-in-Chief of the Greek military and she could only look on helplessly as he headed northwards to lead his troops into battle against the Ottoman forces. Following a prolonged but successful campaign, Constantine entered Salonika, on 10 November, at the head of his troops. He was joined there, two days later, by a proud and joyful King George, who decided he would take up residence there for a while in a villa overlooking the Gulf of Thermai.

In the spring of 1913, the King was on the cusp of celebrating his Golden Jubilee and contemplating abdicating his throne in favour of Helen’s father. However, on the afternoon of 18 March, while strolling along a street in Salonika, he was shot at close range from behind, the bullet piercing his heart. King George was immediately rushed to a nearby military hospital, where his son, Prince Nicholas (the local Military Governor), arrived to find him lying lifeless on a bed in a private room. Helen’s father, Constantine, happened to be at army headquarters in Janina, and on receiving news of his father’s death, he immediately returned to Athens, as King, to take the oath of allegiance to the Constitution. He then travelled to Salonika in the royal yacht to bring back the late king’s body for burial.

For Helen, the death of her beloved grandfather came as a great shock and it is not difficult to imagine her distress as she watched the late King being laid to rest at Tatoi on 30 March. As a sixteen-year-old, she was sufficiently mature to realise that her family’s life would now change, as the responsibility for the future of Greece lay firmly on the shoulders of her father, aided of course by her mother, Queen Sophie. Following his recent military successes, King Constantine was hailed as ‘Son of the Eagle’ and initially enjoyed a high approval rating.

However, unlike his father, the new King distrusted the Prime Minister, Eleftherios Venizelos. Following the outbreak of the First World War, in the summer of 1914, the two clashed. Constantine was adamant that Greece should remain neutral, while Venizelos wished to enter the war on the side of the Entente powers (France, Great Britain and Russia). It was a difficult time for Helen as her father (who had once served in the German Imperial Guard) and German-born mother (who was a sister of the German Kaiser, Wilhelm II) were now both accused of being pro-German and face open hostility from many of their subjects over their failure to back the Entente cause. Indeed, such were the pressures on the King, that in the summer of 1915, he succumbed to pneumonia and, for a time, his life was in grave danger from blood poisoning following surgery to remove two ribs. Helen did what she could to comfort her mother who was beset by rumours that she had stabbed her husband during a violent argument over his failure to side with Germany. Then, in October, the King dismissed Venizelos and appointed the seasoned politician Alexandros Zaimis to succeed him as Prime Minister. Yet, for Helen and her family, worse was to follow. On 14 July, 1916 the royal estate at Tatoi was set ablaze by arsonists intent on eliminating the King and his family. Constantine and Sophie (and their youngest child Katherine) were minutes from being consumed by the fire as they fled from the flames. Eighteen people-mostly loyal estate workers-perished in the blaze which also engulfed the King’s residence.

As December dawned, French and British forces landed near Athens. The French government, in particular, were now intent on unseating the King, taking control of the capital and reinstalling Venizelos (who had established a pro-Entente National Defence Government in Salonika in direct opposition to Zaimis’ neutral government) at the centre of power in Athens. To help achieve this, on 1 December, French ships in Piraeus harbour bombarded the Greek capital for three hours. As shrapnel rained down on the adjoining Royal Gardens, Helen, her mother and other family members sought shelter in the Royal Palace’s basement. However, the Athenians remained stoical and so the French forces imposed a blockade on the city in an attempt to weaken Greek resolve.

In March 1917, Tsar Nicholas II of Russia abdicated after bread riots broke out in Petrograd and the majority of the military garrison mutinied and stormed the Winter Palace. This ‘revolution’ proved a severe blow for the beleaguered Greek royal family who had close family links to the Romanovs. However, for Helen, the greatest worry was the whereabouts and safety of her Russian grandmother Queen Olga, who had earlier returned to her homeland to set up a military hospital at Pavlovsk.

By May, the Entente powers had gained control of most of Greece, including the rail network. The French now sent an envoy, Charles Jonnart, who was tasked with issuing an ultimatum to King Constantine: abdicate or Entente forces will destroy Athens. Constantine could not face further bloodshed and realised that if he did not comply, Greece would be plunged into a civil war between royalists and supporters of Venizelos. He informed a shocked Helen and Queen Sophie of his decision to go. Fortunately, the monarchy was not to be abolished as an agreement was reached with Jonnart whereby Constantine’s second son, Alexander, would be accede as King pro tem.

However, as Helen prepared to depart Athens with her parents and siblings for exile in Switzerland, word of the King’s departure spread like wildfire through Athens and thousands of Constantine’s subjects besieged the Palace in a touching display of loyalty, for they were determined that their King should not leave. After an overnight stand-off, by indulging in a little deceit, involving the use of decoy cars, the royals finally managed to flee the palace. A heartbroken Constantine and his family departed Greece on 14 June from the little East Coast fishing village of Oropos. The new King, 23-year-old Alexander, cut a forlorn figure as he waved off his nearest and dearest. The young monarch was subsequently prohibited from having any contact with his family.

Helen and her family travelled via Italy and crossed the frontier into Switzerland at Chiasso. To her consternation, crowds subjected her parents to jeers and taunts, while in Lugano, ex-King Constantine was forced to seek shelter in the Lloyd Hotel after being recognised and attacked in the street. He later returned to his quarters at the Palace Hotel under police protection. Helen’s family later moved to Zurich where they were joined by Prince Nicholas and Prince Andrew, their wives and children. For Helen this was fortuitous as she was close to all of her Greek cousins, particularly 14-year-old Princess Olga. However, life was not easy: money was tight and, in such a confined environment, petty family squabbles were not infrequent. The royalties were also subject to endless petty humiliations, including the censorship of correspondence. Worse still, the family’s sense of isolation was intensified when former friends openly snubbed Helen’s parents even, on occasion departing a room when they entered. Nor did it help that the international (pro-Entente) press remained hostile and had taken to describing the little group as ‘discarded royalty’ who were ‘hard-up’ and could not pay their hotel bills. Queen Sophie was allegedly even reduced to selling some jewels. Unsurprisingly, Helen’s father’s health suffered and he was fortunate indeed to recover from an attack of pleurisy.

The family were temporarily uplifted by the arrival of Queen Olga in July of 1918. Although this proud Romanov Grand Duchess had survived the revolution (unlike the former Tsar Nicholas who, on 17 July, was murdered along with his immediate family in the basement of a house in Ekaterinburg in the Urals), Helen was horrified to learn that the Dowager Queen-who was ‘a ghost of her old self’-had lived for many months on dry bread soaked in oil at her home at Pavlovsk. The marriage, on 1 February 1920, of her Uncle, Prince Christopher to the rich American heiress Mrs Nancy Leeds (the widow of William Leeds the American “Tin Plate King”) at the Russian Orthodox Church at Vevey was another highlight. But just around the corner further tragedy awaited…

In early October 1920, King Alexander (whose wife Aspasia was four months pregnant) was bitten by a monkey while walking in the gardens at Tatoi. Sepsis sent in and a frantic Queen Sophie (currently in Lucerne) asked permission to travel to Greece to be with her son. Venizelos denied her entry but indicated that Queen Olga could come in her stead. Sadly, rough seas meant that the Dowager Queen arrived in Athens only hours after the King’s death on 25 October. Helen was distraught when she received the news of her brother’s premature death. Her grief was compounded by the fact that neither she nor any of her family were allowed to return to Greece for the funeral on 29 October. Queen Olga represented the family.

In November, Eleutherios Venizelos was defeated in the general election and fled into exile. Soon newspaper reporters were besieging Helen and her family with the news that the fickle Athenians were calling for Constantine’s return. Helen was anxious for both of her parents who were pale of complexion and racked with sorrow. How would they cope with returning to Tatoi which was filled with so many memories of Alexander? Meanwhile, Constantine insisted on a plebiscite to reaffirm his position as monarch and this was held on 5 December. Nearly one million people voted in favour of his return, with just over ten thousand against. Helen was delighted for her father whom she joined aboard the ship Averon at Venice, on 15 December, to sail home to Athens.

The royal family landed in Greece on 19 December. King Constantine’s subjects went wild with enthusiasm. The royal carriage was besieged with cheering well-wishers as it made its was slowly through the streets to the Palace where all of the extended royal family later appeared on the terrace. Yet, for Helen-as for the others-the return was bittersweet. The fact of Alexander’s absence was suddenly brought home, particularly when she observed the grief-stricken face of her mother. Aged 24, Helen also realised that the time had come to settle down and make a suitable marriage. As a tall and attractive brunette with an excellent royal pedigree there was no shortage of suitable candidates. But whom would she settle on?


Princess Christina of the Netherlands.

The death of Princess Christina of the Netherlands, on 16 August, at the relatively young age of 72, came as a shock to many in the international community. However, the Dutch Government Information Service (RVD) disclosed, in June 2018, that the Princess had been diagnosed with bone cancer, in the autumn of 2017.

Princess Maria Christina (often referred to in her youth by her ‘roepnaam‘  of Marijke), was the youngest child of Princess (later Queen) Juliana, heir presumptive to the Dutch throne, and her German-born husband, Prince Bernhard of Lippe-Biesterfeld. Her birth, on 18 February 1947, was a cause for national rejoicing, for Christina was the first royal to be born on Dutch soil since the country’s liberation from German occupation in May 1945 and the royal family’s return from a five-year exile.

However, the country’s joy was soon somewhat tempered by the discovery that the infant princess was almost blind, probably as a result of Princess Juliana having contracted German measles (rubella) during her pregnancy. Indeed, such was Juliana’s distress that Prince Bernhard sought out the services of a faith healer, Greet Hofmans. Sadly, Hofmans’ influence over the deeply religious Queen Juliana (who ascended the throne, on 6 September 1948, following the abdication of her mother Queen Wilhelmina) caused a rift between Bernhard and Juliana. Fortunately, the intervention of the Dutch government led to the Queen finally breaking off all relations with Hofmans in 1956.

Meanwhile, as Marijke grew older, her sight improved thanks to advances in optical techniques. Indeed, the Princess was eventually able to cycle from her home at the Soestdijk Palace to school in nearby Baarn, on occasion travelling so fast that she left her police detective lagging far behind. By her mid-teens, the Princess was already displaying an independence of spirit: She indicated that she now wanted to be known as ‘Christina’, having deemed Marijke as being ‘too childish.’ The Princess also swapped the hallowed halls of palace life to share a flat with a female friend. Christina later enrolled at the University of Groningen and graduated with a teaching degree.

In 1968, the Princess moved to Canada to study classical music at the Montreal Academy of Music and subsequently attended the city’s McGill University. She later relocated to New York where, as Christina van Oranje, she taught music at a Montessori school. Christina then met and fell in love with a Cuban exile, Jorge Pérez y Guillermo, the son of a doctor and a teacher of disadvantaged children at the Addie May Collins Day Care Shelter in East Harlem. However, as Jorge was a Roman Catholic, the Princess-recalling the public outcry in the Protestant Netherlands when her elder sister Irene had married the Roman Catholic Prince Carlos Hugo of Bourbon-Parma in 1964- decided to renounce her and her descendants’ rights to the Dutch throne even before the couple’s engagement was officially announced. 

Christina and Jorge married, first in a civil ceremony in Baarn on 28 June 1975, followed by a religious blessing at Saint Martin’s Cathedral in Utrecht. The couple returned to New York to commence married life and inhabited a large Manhattan apartment with their three children, Bernardo (born in 1977), Nicolás (1979) and Juliana (1981). In 1984, the family relocated to the Netherlands where they built a substantial house, the Villa Eikenhorst, on the De Horsten royal estate at Wassenaar. This 17th-century-style home was soon filled with fabulous paintings by the Old Masters, antique Delftware, Persian carpets and French Louis XV furniture. The music-loving Princess also had her own music room where she could practice her arias in privacy.

In April 1992, the Princess was officially received into the Roman Catholic Church. Sadly, in April 1996 Christina and her husband Jorge divorced. The Princess then decided to return to live in New York, where her children were being schooled. Her share of the contents of the Villa Eikenhorst were sold at auction at Sotheby’s in Amsterdam the following November. The house would later become the official residence of the Prince of Orange following his marriage to Máxima Zorreguieta Cerruti in February 2002.

The Princess continued with her interest in music. As a pianist and singer she gave many private concerts and she also sang at the wedding of her son Nicolás and the funerals of both her parents. Christina also made two CD’s and was Patron of the Princess Christina Music Competition, the aim of which is to encourage young people to develop their musical talents.

In 2007, Christina moved to London and also had a property in Italy. In 2009, she hit the headlines when it was announced that she had invested her large fortune (inherited from her mother Juliana) in a ‘Daffodil Trust’ based in the British tax haven of Guernsey. This tax-saving exercise drew condemnation from some Dutch politicians although many individuals thought the matter a private one, given that the Princess had lived overseas for so many years and undertook no official engagements. According to the Dutch press, this trust was closed down in 2016.

In recent years, the Princess had taken a keen interest in dance and sound therapy techniques which could assist the blind and visually impaired. She share this knowledge at workshops arranged by the Visio Foundation in the Dutch towns of Huizen and Breda.

Following her death at the Noordeinde Palace in the Hague, Princess Christina’s mortal remains were transported to Fagel’s Garden Pavilion in the palace grounds , to allow close friends and family to pay their final respects. A private cremation service will follow.

Queen Mother’s Highland Hideaway.

Following the death of King George VI, on 6 February 1952, his widow, Queen Elizabeth was left feeling bereft and vulnerable. Unsure as to what the future held, the Queen Mother (as she was now more often referred to in the popular press) decided to fly north, on 16 June, for a four-day visit to her beloved Scotland to visit her childhood friend, Lady Doris Vyner and her husband Commander Clare Vyner at their Caithness home at Dwarick Head, The House of the Northern Gate. She took with her a Lady-in-Waiting, the Hon. Mrs Mulholland.

Although dressed in deepest black, the Dowager Queen descended from her Vickers Viking aircraft of the Queen’s Flight at Wick Airport to a warm welcome from not only her friends but thousands of curious locals too, for a royal visit to the windswept and barren County of Caithness was rare indeed. Yet, Queen Elizabeth was enthralled by the open views of the sea and beaches as she travelled the thirty-mile drive by coast-road from Wick to Dunnet, especially when she espied a small 16th century castle, Barrogill, which Lady Vyner indicated had been for sale for many months and was in danger of being demolished. Intrigued, the Queen Mother arranged to return a few days later to make a thorough inspection.

Elizabeth soon discovered that the current owner, Commander Imbert-Terry, lived in only a few of the edifice’s thirty rooms, which had served as a billet for Coastal Defence troops during the Second World War. The castle’s roof had mostly been destroyed by a recent storm and there was no proper sanitation or electric light. Nor did Barrogill come with a large land area-its immediate policies extended to only 30 acres. Nevertheless, the views over to Orkney and the Pentland Firth were uninterrupted and spectacular. Queen Elizabeth was adamant that ‘It must be saved.’ Although the Commander offered to sell Her Majesty the castle for nothing, she declined, but accepted his suggestion of a nominal price of £100.

Many thousands of pounds now required to be spent on it, over the next three years, including the reconstruction of the roof (which took twelve months alone) and the purchase (for £300) of another parcel of land for grazing and shooting. To keep costs down, much of the furniture was sourced by Lady Vyner from local antique shops, including that of J. Miller Calder in nearby Thurso, owned by Miss B Calder. The Queen Mother also frequented another antique establishment, ‘The Ships Wheel’ run by a local ‘character’ Miss Hetty Munro and her brother Alistair. The siblings eventually became good friends of Her Majesty and the business was awarded a prestigious Royal Warrant. There were occasional indulgences including a selection of antique clocks and a four-poster bed trimmed in chintz to enliven an otherwise austere white-washed bedroom.

Finally, in the summer of 1955, the castle was ready for habitation. The Queen, Prince Philip and their children Charles and Anne disembarked, on 12 August, from the Royal Yacht Britannia at nearby Dwarick Pier to inspect the castle, which Queen Elizabeth had decided to restore to its ancient name of the Castle of Mey. After a scrumptious tea, the royal party returned to the yacht. The Queen was ‘terribly impressed’ by all that she had seen ‘and…sorry to depart’. These family nautical interludes at Mey would become an annual tradition until the Royal Yacht was finally decommissioned in 1997.

The Queen Mother quickly adapted to life in Caithness. She would make a short visit in the late Spring to inspect the daffodils and her herd of Aberdeen Angus cattle, followed by a three-week stay in August and she invariably returned for final week’s holiday in October. Royal etiquette was deliberately kept to a minimum, with picnic lunches at some local beauty spot being the order of the day. Daily pastimes included walks on the beach to collect shells, country drives, shooting, fishing for mackerel and hunting for crab. Evenings were a more formal affair, with pre-dinner drinks served in the large drawing room with its warming peat fire and impressive 16th century Flemish tapestry. Dinner was served around 9pm in the adjacent 19th century dining room, at a mahogany table festooned with roses from the castle’s walled garden (which also supplied vegetables, herbs and fruit) and accessorised with good glass and Derby china. Dishes served included artichokes and fresh salmon, augmented by Veuve Clicqot champagne and cheeses (the latter supplied by another Royal Warrant holder, the Thurso grocers, Hamish Cameron). A game of cards (Racing Demon was a favourite) might follow.

In addition to the Vyners’, Her Majesty was well-acquainted with Viscount Thurso (the local Lord Lieutenant) and his wife Marigold. She also became a staunch friend of the local Presbyterian minister, the Reverend Bell, and his wife Christianne, and faithfully attended Sunday service at nearby Canisbay Old Church. The local people also took the Dowager Queen to their heart and, in August 1956, she was presented with the Freedom of the Royal Burgh of Wick. In later years, Queen Elizabeth would invite her former equerries to join her at Mey, when the house party could take on a more rumbustious flavour. However, Her Majesty could always retire to her small private sitting room, situated in one of the castle’s turrets. This contained a poignant reminder of her late husband: a marble fireplace with a heart medallion which the King had gifted to her many years earlier.

As she reached her mid-nineties, the Queen Mother was determined that the Castle of Mey-the only property she had ever owned-prospered well into the future. Ownership of the castle was transferred to a charitable trust, headed by her grandson Prince Charles as President, on 11 June 1996. Her Majesty paid her final visit to Mey in the autumn of 2001. She died at her other home, Royal Lodge, in Windsor Great Park, on 30 March 2002 at the age of 101. Today, the castle is a thriving tourist centre with a busy visitor centre and a newly opened bed and breakfast facility in the grounds. The profits of these enterprises are channelled into the care and maintenance of a place that brought Queen Elizabeth great comfort over nearly five decades.

Greek Princesses in Wartime Europe.

The three daughters of the Russian-born, Romanov Grand Duchess Helen (Ellen) and her husband Prince Nicholas of Greece and Denmark were regarded as the most beautiful and sophisticated in Europe. Marina, Elizabeth and Olga were also extremely close, having been raised together by their beloved, brusque English nurse or ‘nurnie’, Miss Kate Fox, at the Nicholas Palace in Athens, as well as at the Greek royal family’s country retreat at Tatoi, in the wooded foothills of Mount Parnitha. The Princesses made frequent trips to England, where they spent the summer months living in simple hotels or Norland hostels at Westgate-on-Sea or Bognor. Yet, the trio were equally at home amongst the grandeur of the Imperial court in St Petersburg, where their powerful maternal grandmother, Grand Duchess Vladimir, showered them with exquisite gifts and instilled in them a deep understanding of their Imperial Romanov heritage.

The best-known (and youngest) of the trio was Princess Marina. In November 1934, she had made a highly desirable marriage to Prince George, Duke of Kent (the youngest son of Britain’s King George V). The middle sister, Princess Elizabeth, is a more obscure figure. She married a wealthy Bavarian aristocrat (and nephew of Queen Elisabeth of the Belgians), Count Carl Theodor of Toerring-Jettenbach and settled in Munich. However, it was the eldest sister, Princess Olga, who would hold the highest rank as the wife and Consort of the Prince Regent (Paul) of Yugoslavia.

Despite their impeccable royal credentials, the sisters were actually more interested in a ‘cosy’ life en famille, and whenever their individual official or domestic duties permitted, they would meet up in London, Munich, Belgrade or Slovenia for a grand family get- together. When all else failed, long and detailed letters (chiefly concerning domestic matters or news of extended family) flew between England, Bavaria and Yugoslavia on a weekly basis. Grand Duchess Helen encouraged these strong inter-family bonds from her homes in Paris and Athens.

In late 1935, Paul and Olga had purchased a large Slovenian castle at Brdo which was large enough to accommodate all of the extended family for visits throughout August and into late September. The emphasis was firmly on fun: Games of tennis were interspersed with riding, swimming, film shows, charades and fishing trips, as well as excursions to the Slovene capital, Ljubljana. On occasion, several members of the party might travel further afield to enjoy a relaxing cruise down Croatia’s Dalmatian coast. When all else failed, there was always the joy of the popular card game, Lexicon.

However, as early as September 1938, the shadow of war threatened this almost idyllic family existence. All the extended family happened to be staying at the Toerring’s country home, Frauenbuhl Castle at Winhöring when, during a rally in Nuremberg, the German leader, Hitler, denounced Czechoslovakia as a ‘fraudulent state’, focused on subduing the German-speaking minority in the Sudetenland. The Führer also encouraged the Sudeten Germans to demand union with Germany and even offered to provide them with military assistance. Anticipating a deterioration in the European political situation, the Duke and Duchess of Kent returned to England, with heavy hearts, on 14th September. Next day, the Prince Regent and Princess Olga journeyed home to Brdo. Meanwhile, Count Toerring, being of military age, joined the Gebirgsjäger (mountain troops) and was called up to the Czech frontier, leaving his anxious wife to mind their two young children. War was temporarily averted following peace negotiations which resulted in the Munich Agreement of 30 September signed by Hitler, Neville Chamberlain (the British Prime Minister), Mussolini and the French Premier Edouard Daladier. However, Czechoslovakia paid a heavy price as the accord permitted the annexation of the Sudetenland into the Third Reich. Gallingly, the Czechoslovak government was neither invited nor consulted over the matter.

As 1938 drew to a close, Princess Olga feared for her husband’s safety as it was no secret that the Prince Regent was a prime target for terrorists as he sought to thrash out an agreement between the Roman Catholic Croats and Orthodox Serbs. She was cheered by a visit from Marina in February 1939. However, within weeks of the Duchess of Kent’s return to England, German forces invaded the remainder of Czechoslovakia, in direct contravention of the Munich Agreement. Suddenly, it seemed to the British government that Hitler was intent on dominating Europe and Britain’s policy of appeasement was now abandoned. As it appeared likely that Poland would be the Fuhrer’s next target, on 31 March, Neville Chamberlain informed the House of Commons that ‘in the event of any action which clearly threatened Polish independence’ the British government would ‘feel bound.. to lend the Polish Government all support in their power’.

On Good Friday, 7 April, Italy invaded Yugoslavia’s southern neighbour of Albania. This troubled Olga greatly as it put extra pressure on the Prince Regent and served to underline that much of the weight of Yugoslavia’s uncertain future rested squarely on his shoulders. Princess Elizabeth and Count Toerring happened to be spending Easter in England with Marina and the Duke of Kent at their country home, Coppins. Prince George’s correspondence with Prince Paul indicates that there was a frank exchange of (often differing) views on the situation in Europe between the couples.

However, the Duke of Kent and Marina were mostly focused on preparing for their departure to Australia where Prince George was due to take up an appointment as the Dominion’s Governor-General. Elizabeth and Olga were both in despair at the thought of their youngest sibling moving to the other side of the world for a period of up to five years. Fortunately, Olga was distracted by her own official duties, as she and the Prince Regent were due to make State visits to Italy and Germany in May and June respectively. The visit to Berlin provided Olga and her sister Elizabeth with the chance of several brief reunions at the Bellevue Palace, amid a busy week of official engagements.

In early July, it was the turn of Marina and the Duke of Kent to greet Olga and Paul, when they arrived on a visit to London. The stay was a more relaxed family affair, despite the Yugoslav royals being quartered at Buckingham Palace. While the Prince Regent had talks with government ministers, Olga-keenly aware that her sister would be departing in only a few months for Canberra-spent quality time with Marina at the Kent’s home in Belgrave Square. She and Paul also managed a weekend trip down to Coppins.

In early August, Olga and Paul returned to Bled for what remained of the summer; Grand Duchess Helen was already in residence and the house party was soon completed by the arrival of the Kents and the Toerrings. It so happened that Prince Albrecht of Bavaria was a fellow guest. Albrecht was strongly opposed to Hitler and his National Socialist Party and was currently employed by Prince Paul to run his shoots at Petrovčić and Belje. Unsurprisingly, the atmosphere was somewhat strained for if Britain and Germany went to war, as seemed increasingly likely given Chamberlain’s guarantee, the Kents and Toerrings would, technically speaking, be enemies. Since Yugoslavia intended to remain neutral, Olga would be Marina and Elizabeth’s mutual point of contact.

Within a few weeks the situation deteriorated considerably: On 22 August, it was confirmed that Germany and Russia had signed a non-aggression pact. The Treaty had a secret protocol appended to it which divided eastern Europe into German and Soviet spheres of influence and signalled the green light for further German advances, including into Poland. Aware of the implications, both the Duke of Kent and Count Toerring left Brdo for their respective homelands as soon as they received the news. Marina remained in Slovenia until the end of August before departing by train for London.

On 1 September 1939 Germany invaded Poland and Elizabeth Toerring immediately left for Munich. On 3 September, in line with the guarantees it had earlier given to the Polish government, Great Britain declared war on Germany. Olga was ‘stunned’ by this development realising all too well the implications for Marina and Elizabeth. Count Toerring had already been called up to the western front and Prince George-his move to Australia now put on hold-was serving in the Royal Navy at the Admiralty in London. To exacerbate matters, Princess Olga’s sons Nicholas and Alexander were currently attending school in England, a place which now seemed increasingly far off as telephone communications with Yugoslavia were suspended.

Suddenly, the sisters’ life of privilege was gone. In Bavaria, Princess Elizabeth had taken to riding a bike as petrol was rationed, while Princess Olga had been appointed President of the Yugoslav Red Cross. Olga and Elizabeth had originally been able to communicate by telephone (with a German censor listening in), but this facility was withdrawn in late October. Although letters could still be sent (in Olga and Marina’s case via the official diplomatic bag) the process was slow and tedious; there were also limits as to what could safely be committed to paper. In England, Marina had joined the Navy as Commandant of the Women’s Royal Naval Service-‘the Wrens’-and was soon undertaking tours of inspection throughout England. On occasion, she travelled to Scotland to join the Duke of Kent who had been transferred to Admiralty House in North Queensferry. This meant that she was sometimes separated from her young children, Edward and Alexandra, who, with Coppins closed-up and the London house vacated, often spent time staying with their paternal grandmother, Queen Mary, at Badminton.

In early November, Princess Elizabeth and her children Hans Veit and Helen arrived in Belgrade. The main reason for her visit was that food was increasingly scarce in Bavaria. However, the erratic political climate must have been another factor. Countess Toerring feared for her husband’s welfare, particularly when she learned that there were random, ‘new wholesale arrests’ following an assassination attempt on Hitler’s life in Munich’s Bürgerbräukelle. Yet, as 1939 drew to close, the sister’s remained resolute. Elizabeth and her children returned to Bavaria, in early December, to be with Count Toerring (who had now been released from active duty), while Olga sought to try and provide some Festive cheer in Belgrade for King Peter (whose mother, Queen Dowager Marie, now lived in England with her younger sons Andy and Tommy), her three-year-old daughter, Elizabeth, and the Prince Regent. Meanwhile, Marina busied herself with organising accommodation for the Christmas school holiday period, in Cambridge, for Olga’s sons and Miss Fox. She later visited the trio to help them celebrate the Festive Season.

As 1940 dawned, Olga noted that, ‘The future looks dark I must admit- but I know the light is there behind it all the time.’ Yet, in the years ahead, all of the sisters would face terrible challenges, which would test them-and their close bond-to the limit.


Yugoslav Royals’ ‘Private’ Visit to London 1939.

As the volatile political situation in Europe throughout the spring and early summer of 1939 threatened to escalate into war, Prince Regent Paul of Yugoslavia, whose Balkan Kingdom was already under threat both from Italian expansionist desires and an increasing economic dependence on Germany, was feeling decidedly unsettled. A recent State Visit to Berlin, which included a massive military display, had only served to increase his disquiet. Worryingly, he also confided to his old friend, Infante Alfonso, Duke of Galliera, that Hitler was ‘mad’.

It must have been somewhat of a relief to receive a telegram from his friend, King George VI (‘Bertie’) asking him to pay a visit to London for ‘important, though informal, discussions with British Ministers’. Paul was the supreme anglophile: he had been educated at Christ Church, Oxford and counted the British aristocrats (and fellow Oxford graduates) Walter, the 8th Duke of Buccleuch and Robert, Viscount Cranborne (‘Bobbety’) as close friends. Furthermore, the British Queen Consort (formerly Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon) had often entertained Prince Paul at her childhood home, Glamis Castle, near Forfar and counted him as a member of her ‘inner circle’. However, the Prince’s most recent link with England was through his wife, Princess Olga. The latter’s youngest sister, Marina, had married Britain’s Prince George, the Duke of Kent, less than five years previously. It also happened that King George VI was godfather to both fifteen-year-old King Peter of Yugoslavia and to Paul and Olga’s (British-born) eldest child, Alexander.

On 17 July, the Prince Regent and Princess Olga arrived at Victoria Station for a two-week visit. The Kent’s were waiting to greet them, as was Alexander, who was currently attending Eton. Although the visit was not a ‘State’ but a ‘private’ event, the royal couple’s strong links to the British monarchy ensured that they were quartered in great comfort in Buckingham Palace’s ground-floor Belgian Suite. The British press were suitably kind to the Regent noting that in Yugoslavia, ‘Prince Paul is bearing a burden a heavy burden and bearing it exceedingly well.’ Furthermore, as the senior ‘trustee’ of the Yugoslav crown, they observed that, ‘his policy is that nothing should be done which will jeopardise the position of King Peter when he attains his majority in two years’ time and will then take over the responsibilities of government.’ The press, nevertheless, praised Paul for ‘striving for peace within and without the country’ and acknowledged it had been ‘an exceedingly difficult task to hold the balance evenly between the [Orthodox] Serbs and the [Roman Catholic] Croats’ whilst also having to ‘resist the overtures’ of Italy and Germany.

On 18 July, Paul and Olga joined the King and Queen on the front stalls of the Little Theatre to watch the musical revue “Nine Sharp” starring the Australian actor, Cyril Ritchard. Next day, the Prince lunched and held talks with the British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain at his residence, 10 Downing Street. Lord Halifax, the Foreign Minister was also present, as were various British military chiefs and the President of the Board of Trade. Paul was at pains to point out that Germany and Russia were in talks with a view to signing a non-aggression pact. If Britain did not consummate a deal with the Russians then Germany would. Later, the King invested Prince Paul as a Knight Companion of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, Britain’s oldest (and most prestigious) order of chivalry. In the evening, Bertie and Elizabeth hosted a ball attended by 800 at which the Prince Regent and Princess Olga were the guests of honour. This would be the last major event to be held at the Palace until after the Second World War.

Yet, despite this lavish display of royal hospitality, the British press later seemed surprised that the Yugoslavs maintained such a ‘living sentiment’ for all things British which went beyond simple royal family ties, even although Britain had failed to offer Yugoslavia similar aid or guarantees as those offered to its neighbour Greece. Indeed, Lord Halifax, appeared slow to appreciate Dr Ivan Subbotic’s, [the Yugoslav Minister in London] recent entreaties for armaments and improved trade terms. This situation had continued despite the fact that the British Minister in Belgrade, Sir Ronald Campbell, had pressed his Foreign Office masters in London, prior to Prince Paul’s visit, for ‘more substantial assistance to this country.’ Campbell’s intervention was driven by a sense of embarrassment exacerbated by the Prince Regent’s oft expressed ‘surprise that we do nothing practically to help [Yugoslavia].’ Campbell was also aware that despite the lack of British military aid, Halifax had tried to press the Regent into making some sort of declaration as to what Yugoslavia intended to do should Germany invade Romania. Paul was furious at such a crass display of diplomacy, fearing that such a declaration would antagonise the Germans at a time when his country was short of arms and unprepared militarily. Furthermore, it remained a delicate time in Yugoslav internal politics, as the Prince was involved in trying to obtain an agreement (Sporazum) between the Serbs and the Croats. (This would eventually be achieved in late August.)

Meanwhile, in late July, following a weekend stay at the Duke and Duchess of Kent’s home at Coppins, near Iver, the Prince Regent entered a London nursing home for three days for an operation by orthodontist Mr Bowdler Henry on a wisdom tooth. He and Princess Olga departed for their summer home in Slovenia on 2 August. The couple’s loyal friend, Henry ‘Chips’ Channon waved them off at Victoria Station. However, the presence of 100 policemen, who formed a tight security ring around the Prince Regent (there had been numerous death threats against Paul over the years), somewhat unsettled Chips and caused him to take ‘a gulp of misery’ while wondering what the future held for his friends. Prince Paul, for his part, was left with the distinct impression that Britain had little interest in coming to Yugoslavia’s aid.

On 22 August it was announced-as Prince Paul had predicted to British officials in London-that Germany and Russia had signed a Treaty of Non-Aggression. The British press succinctly noted that ‘Nazi-ism and Bolshevism… are now shaking hands’. Worryingly, the Treaty had a secret protocol appended to it which divided eastern Europe into German and Soviet spheres of influence and gave the green light for further German advances, particularly into Poland. Indeed, within weeks, Germany would be at war with both Great Britain and France.

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Prince Kyril of Bulgria.

Today is the 55th birthday of Kyril, Prince of Preslav and Duke in Saxony. However, in keeping with the title holders down-to-earth approach to life, he is more generally known among his contemporaries as Kyril Saxe-Coburg. But who exactly is the Prince?

Raised in Madrid (where his father King Simeon of Bulgaria had settled following his expulsion from Bulgaria, in 1946, by the Communist government), Kyril and his four siblings enjoyed a relatively unspoilt existence. The Prince would cycle each day to his classes at the Lycée Français de Madrid, where he displayed an early aptitude for Arithmetic. Mountain trekking, foraging for mushrooms and water-skiing at a nearby lake were favourite pastimes; while in later years the family would travel in their motorhome through Spain and Morocco.

Nonetheless, King Simeon and his wife Margarita instilled a strong sense of ‘historical responsibility’ in their second child, who had already come to the conclusion that his family was ‘somewhat different.’ Tellingly, King Simeon also warned his children to be vigilant as the Communist government in Bulgaria had the family under surveillance. In 1982 Kyril passed his Baccalaureate exams with honours in mathematics. The Prince then chose to study Theoretical and Quantum Physics at Princeton University where he graduated cum laude in 1986.

The world of business soon beckoned: After a spell as a corporate analyst with Lehman Brothers in New York, Kyril’s statistical skills earned him a promotion to the company’s London office. However, it was during a weekend visit to Mallorca, in the summer of 1985, that the Prince was first introduced to his future wife, Rosario Nadal. After a long courtship, the couple married in Palma in September 1989 in a ceremony attended by King Juan Carlos and Queen Sofia of Spain (close friends of King Simeon and his wife). The reception, for 400 guests, was held at the Royal Palace of Almundaina.

In July 1994, the couple’s first child-a daughter, Mafalda-was born. Two more children followed: a second daughter, Olimpia, in December 1995 and a son, Tassilo, in May 2002.

Following the fall of communism, Kyril was invited by the Bulgarian Ambassador to attend an event at the embassy in London. Subsequently, the Prince fostered relations with a Bulgarian MP, Peter Stoyanov. When the latter was appointed President of Bulgaria in 1997, he asked Kyril to act as his part-time economic advisor. Although Kyril requested that he be known as Mr Saxe-Coburg during his subsequent (first) visit to Bulgaria, everyone referred to him as ‘Prince’ and ‘Your Highness’. The Prince was to continue with this role until 2001, when King Simeon was appointed Prime Minister of Bulgaria. At that point, Kyril chose to focus on his business career, now with GLG partners in London.

In March 2009, Kyril and Rosario separated. The split was amicable and the couple were determined that the needs of their children should be paramount. The Prince based himself in a studio flat nearby so that he could see his family regularly. If Rosario was away overseas in Mexico City in her role as deputy director of the Jumex Foundation’s museum, Kyril would make a point of dining each evening with his children.

With his fluency in six languages, the Prince remains heavily involved dealing with investor relations and market expansion, with a focus on Iberia and Latin America. He rises early and then enjoys 30 minutes exercising, before arriving at his desk well before 8am. Of course, the world of finance is demanding, involves ‘rapid fire’ decision-making and long working days which can last well into the evening.

Nevertheless, despite his busy role at GLG, Kyril tries to find time to involve himself in Bulgarian cultural and benevolent endeavours: in 1997 he helped to establish the Bulgarian City Club (he is lifetime honorary president) in London which fosters links between Bulgarian ex-pats and undertakes valuable charitable work. A sociable individual, it is not unusual to see the Prince dance the horo at a Friends of Bulgaria function. Nevertheless, life is not all fun: In April 2015, Kyril’s eldest brother Prince Kardram died. He had long suffered from ill-health following a serious car accident in 2008.

Today, the Prince’s closest friends remain those from his childhood and include the Spanish Infantas, Elena and Cristina, as well as various Savoy kinsmen (the latter providing enduring dynastic links with his beloved, Italian-born paternal grandmother, Queen Giovanna). Kyril’s children are close to their children and the families enjoy reconnecting during the summer holiday season, particularly in Mallorca, where the Prince has a summer home. Indeed, Kyril has earned the title of ‘King of the Waves’ from the Spanish press owing to his love of water sports.

As he enters his 56th year, the Prince is a living example that King Simeon’s conscious decision to equip his children for life in the modern world, whilst acknowledging their dynastic obligations, has paid off.

Order of Canada.

As today is Canada Day (formerly Dominion Day) I thought it worth mentioning the history of this great order. In days gone by, Canada-as with the other Dominions- received a quota of honours through the British ‘imperial’ honours system. However, as each of the Dominions forged a stronger sense of nationhood, it seemed inevitable that they should adopt their own honours system. Canada (always the most sparing in the use of imperial honours) led the way with the establishment of the Order of Canada (Ordre du Canada) on 1 July 1967. This date marked the centenary of Canada’s elevation to the status of a Dominion within the British Empire.

Canada’s highest civilian honour recognises ‘ a life of outstanding achievement, dedication to the community and service to the nation’, and has as it’s motto in Latin, Desiderantes Meliorem Patriam (They Desire a Better Country). The insignia of the Order is a stylised snowflake of six points, with a red annulus at the centre bearing a stylised maple leaf circumscribed with the motto of the Order.

The Order has three levels: Companion (post-nominal: CC), Officer (OC) and Member (CM). Companions are restricted to 165 at any given time (although up to five extra Honorary Companions may also be appointed). Up to 64 Officers and 136 Members may be appointed annually. The Order has precedence over all Canadian Orders excepting the Victoria Cross (VC) and the Cross of Valour (CV). Recipients are recommended to the Governor-General (Her Majesty’s representative in Canada) by an independent advisory council, chaired by Canada’s Chief Justice, from nominations submitted by the public. The Queen of Canada is the Sovereign of the Order; the Governor-General is Chancellor and Principal Companion. Interestingly, the constitution of the Order of Canada states that the insignia remain the property of the Crown. It also requires that any member of the order must return their original emblem to the Chancellery should they be upgraded to a higher rank.

Queen of Scots Arrives in Edinburgh.

Today, Her Majesty the Queen commences her annual visit to Edinburgh for what the Royal Household refer to as the ‘Holyrood Week’, so-named as the focus of this stay is the Queen ‘s official residence in Scotland, the Palace of Holyroodhouse at the bottom of the Royal Mile. Normally frequented by tourists, this infrequently-used Royal Palace closes it’s doors well in advance of the Queen’s arrival (this year on 24 June) and then comes alive as royal staff arrive from London to man the ground-floor kitchens, fill the State Rooms with flowers and give the private apartments a much-needed airing.

The visit always follows a traditional, time-tested format: When the Queen arrives at the Palace, she is formally welcomed in the forecourt to her “ancient and hereditary kingdom of Scotland’’ by the handing over of the keys of Scotland’s capital city by the Lord Provost (the Scotch equivalent of a Lord Mayor). The Queen then returns them, entrusting their safekeeping to Edinburgh’s elected officials. The Ceremony of the Keys concludes with Her Majesty inspecting the Guard of Honour, this year formed by F Company, Royal Scots Guards.

The Palace is also the focus for two other events: an investiture and a garden party. The Investiture takes place, watched over by the portraits of Scotland’s Kings, in the Palace’s largest room, the Great Gallery. The event is for Scottish residents whose outstanding achievements to their profession or community have been recognised in the twice-yearly Honours List . The Royal Garden Party, meanwhile, is held on the sweeping lawns of the Palace and is usually attended by 8000 guests, including the First Minister of Scotland and other local worthies. Guests feast on dainty finger sandwiches and cakes. During this event, the Royal Company of Archers, the Sovereign’s Official Bodyguard in Scotland, are much in evidence, dressed in their distinctive dark green tunics and feathered Highland bonnets.

Away from the Palace, another ‘hardy annual’ of Holyrood Week is the Order of the Thistle Service at St Giles Cathedral, half-way up the Royal Mile in the Old Town. The Thistle is Scotland’s highest Order of Chivalry and the sixteen Knights or Ladies appointed reflect a cross-section of individuals who have made a significant contribution to national life. Participants, including the Queen (who is Sovereign of the Order), process in their distinctive green velvet robes or ‘mantles’ from the nearby Signet Library to the service held in the Order’s Chapel inside the Cathedral.

Most unusually, 2019’s Holyrood Week commences on a Friday, with a visit to a High School in Cumbernauld, near Glasgow, where Her Majesty will receive a greeting in Gaelic from some of the pupils and be serenaded by North Lanarkshire Schools’ Pipe Band. Various members of the Royal Family, including Prince Charles, the Duke of Rothesay and Prince Edward, the Earl of Forfar will support the Queen. The highlight of this years’ visit is the Sovereign’s attendance, accompanied by Prince Charles, at the Scottish Parliament’s 20th Anniversary Celebrations. Her Majesty is no stranger to the Parliament (this is her ninth visit) and she will make a congratulatory speech in the debating chamber.

Although the Queen spends around 11 weeks of the year in Scotland (mostly at Balmoral, her private estate on Royal Deeside), this week of engagements in Edinburgh helps to maintain the strong links between the Queen of Scots (her preferred title in Scotland) and her Scottish subjects.

Royal Feud: The Duke of Windsor and King George VI in Wartime.

Although buoyed up by the success of his recent tour of Canada and the United States, when King George VI landed at Southampton, in late June, the deteriorating political situation in Europe was a pressing source of concern given Germany’s and Italy’s recent invasions of Czechoslovakia and Albania respectively. Another worry was the situation surrounding the King’s eldest brother, the former King Edward VIII. Following his much-publicised Abdication in December 1936, ‘David’ had been given the title of Duke of Windsor. He subsequently married his paramour, Wallis Simpson, in June 1937, and the couple currently resided, ostracised by the Court at Buckingham Palace, in France.

The King (‘Bertie’) had good reason to be concerned about his brother, as in political matters, the Duke had already shown that he could not be relied upon to display the traditional royal circumspection. In October 1937, David (who spoke good German) and Wallis had paid a controversial visit to Nazi Germany, where they were serenaded by an SS band and met with Hitler at the Berghof in Obersalzberg. Furthermore, as recently as May 1939, while George VI was in the course of crossing the Atlantic, the Duke of Windsor made a radio broadcast at the invitation of the American network, NBC, during which he appealed ‘as a soldier of the last war’ for peace and asked that all statesmen ‘act as good citizens of the world and not only as Frenchmen, Italians, Germans, Americans or Britons.’ Soon letters of appreciation were flooding in, particularly from American listeners. Tellingly, the BBC had decided not to carry the broadcast; while the British press probably more accurately reflected the King’s view that the Duke’s intervention, just prior to such an important royal tour, had been both ill-judged and ill-timed. Indeed, David’s youngest brother, the Duke of Kent went so far as to describe him as ‘a fool’.

In late June, the Duke of Windsor was again back in the headlines, when Buckingham Palace indicated that they were unable to confirm a rumour that the former king and his wife ‘would shortly settle down in England.’ Intriguingly, the Paris correspondent of Reuters added that he had been informed by the Duke ‘that he has no definite plans after the summer‘, which he was spending at the Château de la Croë, his residence at Antibes, in the south of France.

King George VI must have been disturbed by the thought of his predecessor arriving in England at such a precarious time. Nonetheless he carried on with his duties, reviewing a march past of National Service Volunteers in Hyde Park, visiting the Royal Naval College at Dartmouth and entertaining the Prince Regent of Yugoslavia at Buckingham Palace. On reaching Balmoral, in early August, Bertie attended his Duke of York Camp at nearby Abergeldie Castle; this annual event had been established to encourage the integration of boys from different social backgrounds. However, on 9 August, the King broke off his highland holiday to travel south to Weymouth to inspect the Reserve Fleet, before returning to Scotland.

On 23 August, with a German attack on Poland looking increasingly likely, the Duke of Windsor asked the British Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain to keep him informed of developments in order that he could make plans for the future. David would have been aware that as early as March, Chamberlain had given an undertaking to Poland that the British government would ‘lend all support in their power’ in the event of any action which threatened Polish independence. Four days later, the Duke telegraphed Hitler from the French Riviera and made a ‘very earnest appeal for your utmost influence towards a peaceful solution of the present problems.’ The King, meanwhile, had returned to London as the crisis worsened and offered to make a similar personal approach to Hitler. However, he received a polite rebuff from Chamberlain. Bertie later dined at Buckingham Palace with his brothers the Duke of Gloucester and the Duke of Kent. It seems highly likely that the matter of the Duke of Windsor was discussed in light of the earlier press reports of his possible return to England; the King had doubtless also been informed of his brother’s recent approach to Chamberlain. He probably had knowledge too of David’s view (expressed to his friend and legal adviser Walter Monckton during the Munich crisis of the previous year) that since the British government were responsible for him and the Duchess having to live in exile, they must therefore accept responsibility for getting them and their possessions out of France if the need arose.

On 1 September German troops invaded Poland. At 9AM on 3 September, the British Ambassador in Berlin, Sir Nevile Henderson, handed a note to the German Foreign Minister, Ribbentrop. In this, the Foreign Secretary, Lord Halifax indicated that if hostilities against Poland did not stop by 11AM, a state of war would exist between Great Britain and Germany. Germany did not respond and at 11:15 Neville Chamberlain went on the radio to announce to the British people that they were at war with Germany. In the evening, the King broadcast to the nation and asked that everyone stand ‘calm and firm and united.’

In Antibes, the Duke of Windsor had received news of Britain’s declaration war in a personal phone call from the British Ambassador in France, Sir Ronald Hugh Campbell. David then telephoned Walter Monckton and instructed him to convey to the King his desire to serve in any capacity His Majesty deemed suitable. George VI responded by offering to send a plane to the South of France to bring his brother and sister-in-law to Britain. However, when Monckton telephoned the Duke with this news, rather than being grateful, he seemed more intent on establishing exactly where he and the Duchess were to be accommodated. When informed that his equerry Edward Dudley ‘Fruity’ Metcalfe might arrange for the couple to stay with him at his home in Sussex, the Duke became difficult and insisted that he would not return to England unless he and his wife were invited to stay at one of the royal residences as a guest of the King. Unsurprisingly, this latest “request” fell on stony ground and the plans to send a plane were put on hold.

However, despite this impasse, Walter Monckton flew out on 7 September to discuss the various posts that were to be offered to the ex-king when he eventually decided to return home. These included a civil defence post as Deputy to the Regional Commissioner in Wales and a job as a liaison officer in the British Number 1 Military Mission attached to the French General Headquarters in Paris. It was also made clear that there was no question of the couple staying at a royal residence; nor should the Duchess expect to be received by Their Majesties. In the meantime, another problem emerged: The Duchess had a fear of flying and asked if it might be possible to provide transport by sea to England. One can imagine the sighs in London as the harassed powers-that-be struggled to arrange this. In the interim, the Duke and Duchess departed Antibes and headed northwards via Vichy to await further instructions. The Duke of Windsor’s old friend and champion, Winston Churchill soon came to the rescue: He had recently been appointed First Lord of the Admiralty and arranged for Captain Louis Mountbatten, a cousin and former naval Aide-de-Camp to Edward VIII, to travel to Cherbourg aboard his ship HMS Kelly and transport the Duke and Duchess to Portsmouth.

Following a six-hour crossing, the ducal party landed in England late on the evening of 12 September. The difference in David’s status was immediately apparent to him. As a Prince of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, the Duke was only entitled to the first six bars of the National Anthem from the Royal Marines band (rather than the full version he had become accustomed to as Sovereign). Furthermore, there was no member or representative of the royal family to greet him and his wife. After an overnight spent at Admiralty House (a kind gesture arranged at the last-minute through the intervention of Churchill), the Duke and Duchess were ferried in the Metcalfe’s car to their country residence, South Hartfield House. From there, the Duke and Duchess would make regular visits by car to London, using the Metcalfe’s town house in Wilton Street as a daytime base.

On 14 September, the Duke of Windsor had an afternoon meeting with the King at Buckingham Palace, their first meeting in three years. George VI would later recall in his diary that ‘we talked for an hour. There were no recriminations on either side…’; yet to his youngest brother George, the Duke of Kent, he confided that David’s demeanour ‘was his usual swaggering one, laying down the law about everything.’ The Duke thought it ‘cordial enough’ and indicated his preference for the civil defence post in Wales, which was unsurprising given that he had a deep affection for the Principality which he had visited on numerous occasions during his years as Prince of Wales. The King replied vaguely that there was no hurry about making a decision.

Next day, the Duke had meetings with Churchill at the Admiralty, followed by an uneasy encounter with the Prime Minister at 10 Downing Street. The reason for this would soon become apparent: During a subsequent meeting at the War Office with the Secretary of State for War, Leslie Hore-Belisha, David was informed that the King had now withdrawn the offer of the post in Wales for which he had expressed a preference. Bertie felt that his older brother would be ‘most suitably employed’ in France. The Duke would now return there as a member of the Military Mission with the temporary (lower) rank of Major-General. As a “sweetener” the Prime Minister was ‘making enquiries’ as to whether the former king and his wife could first make fortnight’s tour of the English Commands before returning to the Continent.

However, on 16 September, Hore-Belisha had two audiences with the King. He observed that George VI was ‘in a distressed state’ and took the view that if the Duchess of Windsor visited the Commands she might receive a hostile reception, particularly in Scotland. Nor did he want the Duke to visit the Commands in England. During the second audience, the King remarked that while all his predecessors had succeeded to the throne after their predecessors had died, ‘Mine is not only alive, but very much so.’ He concluded that it better for the Duke to return to France as soon as possible. Within the hour, Hore-Belisha met up with his former king at the War Office. He handled the delicate situation with great tact by explaining that if the Duke was to tour the Commands, it might attract undue attention and be a threat to security. By contrast, if David showed readiness to take up his new appointment at once, it would create an excellent impression with the public-at-large. Hore-Belisha also pointed out that the Head of the British Military Mission, Major-General Richard Howard-Vyse was awaiting his new royal liaison officer’s arrival in Paris as a matter of urgency. Tellingly, as he departed the War Office, the Duke was cheered by onlookers. He also received many letters of encouragement from his former subjects. Word of this would have reached the Palace and would hardly have endeared David to the King.

In the event, owing to red tape, the Duke and Duchess did not return to France until 29 September. The couple made use of the time to drive out to their former love nest, Fort Belvedere at Sunningdale. It proved to be a sad visit as the gardens were overgrown and the house was shuttered up and decaying.

On 30 September Major-General HRH the Duke of Windsor reported for duty at his HQ at Nogent-sur-Marne, east of Paris. He quickly settled in and was popular with his fellow officers. In the first instance David was dispatched, with the approval of the French Commander-in-Chief, General Maurice Gamelin (who was delighted to have an ex-king and former combatant of the Great War of 1914-1918 in his midst) on a tour French fortifications along the Belgian border with France. However, unknown to the French High Command, the Duke’s expedition had a serious purpose. He had been asked to write a report on how secure the French defences were in this low-lying area as this would be of relevance to the British Expeditionary Force (BEF) who were responsible for the defence of Lille and the surrounding locality but who, in the words of one British officer, ‘knew so little of the doings of the French army’. After a brief visit to the British GHQ at Arras , where he took tea with his younger brother Harry, the Duke of Gloucester (currently serving as ‘Chief Liaison Officer’ to the Commander-in-Chief of the BEF, Major-General Lord Gort), David set out on four day, 50-mile tour of inspection. His report, dated 10 October, was damning: French tank defences were inadequate, while the main fortified positions were not camouflaged and lacked any anti-aircraft cover. Furthermore, not only was their a shortage of French military personnel but many of those the Duke encountered seemed to lack proper training. Major-General Howard-Wyse was impressed by the ‘valuable’ report and forwarded a copy to Gort. The Duke took the trouble to send a copy, with a personal letter enclosed, to General Edmund Ironside, the Chief of the Imperial General Staff in London. Sadly, the report seems to have been left to gather dust.

As the Duke was not due set out on his next tour of inspection (along the Vosges section of the Maginot Line) until 26 October, it was decided to send him on a visit to the BEF. The ex-king was ‘full of go and interest’ according to one British General and his spirits had undoubtedly been lifted by the warm welcome he received from the troops. However, an unfortunate incident occurred when a guard at headquarters presented arms and the Duke, without thinking, returned the salute, as he had been accustomed to doing in the past, both as Prince of Wales and as King. Unfortunately, the salute was intended for the senior officer present, the BEF’s commanding officer, Lord Gort. It also so happened that the Duke of Gloucester was part of the official group. Technically speaking, he also outranked his eldest brother, both militarily and in terms of royal precedence. An aggrieved Harry Gloucester later informed the King of his ‘horror’ at David’s behaviour. The Duke of Kent only added to George VI’s disquiet when he asked if the rumours were ‘true’ that David had ‘seemed to get all of the attention’ when he and Harry had reviewed the troops together. The King in turn was furious and felt that the Duke of Windsor had ‘made everything extremely difficult for all concerned during his recent visit to the Front.’ It appears that secret instructions were subsequently sent from London to say that the British Sector was to be off-limits to the ex-king. Furthermore, David also received a formal reprimand from his superiors over his actions.

Nevertheless, the Duke was allowed to continue with his tour of the Maginot Line, probably because no other member of Howard Wyse’s staff would have been permitted similar access by the French. He covered this stretch in three days (26-28 October) with visits to Fort Hochwald (where the French greeted him with the firing of some shells into no-man’s land and the British National Anthem) and army headquarters at Ingwiller. However, when David-keen to compare defence methods used by the BEF with those of the French forces-learned from an embarrassed Howard-Wyse that his contact with British troops was now being deliberately restricted to occasional visits to GHQ, he became most annoyed. The Duke wrote to Churchill in mid-November, indicating that this blow was ‘merely fresh evidence of my brother’s continued efforts to humiliate me in his and his courtier’s power.’ He was now determined to travel to London and have it out with the King. Monckton, who continued to act as an intermediary between David and Bertie, indicated that he doubted the King ‘would be willing to discuss the matter yet.’ Walter also pointed out to the Duke that should he be involved in ‘an open quarrel’ with the King, ‘people would in the vast majority support him because there is a war on and because he is who he is.’ Matters then seemed to settle down and, at the end of November, David was informed by Howard-Vyse that London had indicated, ‘there was no objection’ to him visiting British military units ‘for a definite purpose, and with prior approval.’ The Duke informed Monckton ‘I have won my point…’ Nevertheless, the altercation left the ex-king disillusioned, and as I will explain in a later instalment, highly unpredictable and increasingly difficult to handle. It also left relations with his brother, the King, in a fraught state, for when George VI paid a visit to the BEF in northern France in early December, there was no contact between the brothers.

The Scottish State Coach At the Trooping.

Most unusually, the Queen today made use of the Scottish State Coach at the Trooping of the Colour. Apparently, the decision to use a closed carriage, was taken as a precaution against inclement weather. I thought it might be worth looking at the history of this item which currently graces the Royal Mews at Buckingham Palace.

The coach was originally constructed in 1830 as a glass ‘town’ coach for Queen Victoria’s uncle, Prince Adolphus, the Duke of Cambridge. The Duke travelled in the ‘Cambridge Coach’ (as it was then known) to the coronation of his brother William IV in September, 1831. After Adolphus’s death, the coach was sold to William Keppel, 7th Earl of Albemarle, who converted it to a semi-State Landau. Interestingly, William’s son, the Hon. George Keppel, married (in 1891) Alice Edmonstone, who would later become a mistress of King Edward VII. George and Alice Keppel are the great-grandparents (on the maternal side) of the present Duchess of Cornwall.

In 1920 the coach was presented as a gift by the Keppel family to Queen Mary. It was remodelled and restored to its original enclosed state in 1968–9 on the present Queen’s instructions so as to create a coach specifically for state occasions in Scotland. The emblems of the Order of the Thistle (the highest order of chivalry in Scotland), as well as the Scottish version of the Royal Arms were painted on the sides. In addition, a model of the Crown of Scotland was placed atop the roof. This distinguishes it from the other carriages in the Royal Mews which feature the royal arms of England and the Order of the Garter insignia.

The Queen made use of the remodelled Scottish State Coach for the first time when she attended the opening of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland in Edinburgh on 20 May 1969. The coach proved to be a popular choice as the combination of a glass roof and large glass windows provides onlookers with a better view of the occupants, as well as vital extra light.

The Coach has also been used regularly for events in other parts of the United Kingdom. It was particularly favoured by the late Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother who travelled in it, accompanied by some of her grandchildren, to Queen Elizabeth II’s Silver Jubilee Thanksgiving Service at St Paul’s Cathedral in June 1977. She again made use of the coach during her Installation as Lord Warden and Admiral of the Cinque Ports at Dover in the summer of 1979. This usage seems particularly apt given that Her Majesty was a direct descendent of Scotland’s famous King, Robert the Bruce and had Stuart blood coursing through her veins.

The Scottish State Coach has made several more forays north to Edinburgh: In 1994 it was used as a reserve carriage during the State Visit of the King and Queen of Norway; while in August 2016, it was displayed on the forecourt of the Queen’s official residence in Scotland, the Palace of Holyroodhouse to mark Her Majesty 90th birthday year.

Most recently, in October 2018, the coach was used by Princess Eugenie and her husband Jack Brooksbank, for the procession that took place after their wedding at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor .