The Duke and Duchess of Windsor flee the French Riviera…

In the spring of 1940, the Duke of Windsor (King Edward VIII prior to his abdication in December 1936) was attached (with the rank of Major-General) to the British Military Mission to the French Command in Vincennes. He was tasked with making tours of various French Army Sectors to report on the quality of the defences, as well as the morale and bearing of the French troops. Following the completion of his last trip in March, the Duke had returned to the opulent rented house he shared with his wife, Wallis, on Paris’ fashionable Boulevard Suchet, where he remained twiddling his thumbs throughout April into May, as no further work was currently forthcoming. The nearest he came to any action was entertaining the British Ambassador to dinner.

Soon everything was about to change: On 10 May, German forces invaded France and the Low Countries. The Duke went to Mission HQ at Vincennes each day where he was initially kept busy studying troop movements on wall maps and undertaking useful liaison work with the French forces at the front. The Duchess of Windsor, meanwhile, was occupied with work for the French Red Cross and Le Colis de Trianon, a charity which distributed ‘soldiers’ boxes’ and comforts to the troops. Matters reached a head, on 16 May, when German Panzer divisions reached the Oise, having successfully crossed the Ardennes and the Meuse with minimal opposition. Panic ensued in Paris and the British Embassy began evacuating all female members of staff, as well as the wives of British diplomats. The Duke, on his own initiative, rushed home and, parrying aside her objections, instructed his wife to pack as he was relocating her southwards for her own safety. Within hours the duo were en route to Biarritz. Although, the roads were packed with refugees heading South, the royal couple managed to find overnight accommodation at Blois from a sympathetic innkeeper who recognised the Duchess, who had overnighted there previously, at the time of the Abdication crisis.

On 17 May, the Duke and Duchess reached Biarritz. After checking his wife into the opulent Hotel du Palais, the Duke headed back north to resume his duties with the Mission. However, the situation there was growing ever more dangerous and the Duke’s brother, Prince Henry of Gloucester, who was serving as Chief Liaison Officer to General Gort, the Commander-in-Chief of the British Expeditionary Force, was winched out of Boulogne on 19 May and flown back to England. However, as there was no guidance from London regarding his own (increasingly perilous) position and, having been assured by his superior, Major-General Howard-Vyse, that there was ‘nothing for him to do’, Edward decided to take matters into his own hands: He proposed a plan whereby, as he later put it to the British Ambassador, Sir Ronald Campbell, he would return to Biarritz to collect his wife and then ‘settle the Duchess in’ at their holiday home, the Château de la Croë at Antibes. From there, he could easily undertake a tour of inspection of French forces on the border with Italy. The Duke did, of course, obtain permission in advance from Howard-Vyse who thought it ‘a good idea.’ Thus, on 27 May, Edward was formally seconded to the French Armée des Alpes and the couple’s house in Paris’ fashionable Boulevard Suchet was soon closed up for the duration of the war. On the beaches to the north at Dunkirk, London had already set in motion ‘Operation Dynamo’, the plan for evacuating the British Expeditionary Force and other Allied troops who had been completely surrounded by German troops.

At La Croë, which they reached on 29 May, the Duchess packed up the Duke’s family silver (which was to be stored at a château in Aix-en-Provence), while the Duke travelled to Nice to report for duty. Antibes was filled with troops and a strict black out was in force and, when not otherwise occupied, the royal couple camped out nervously, eating off tin plates to await further developments. A nearby neighbour was a Captain George Wood and his wife Rosa. The Captain knew the Duke reasonably well as had been attached to the British Legation in Vienna during Edward’s sojourn at Schloss Enzesfeldt, following his Abdication in 1936. The Duchess’ childhood friend Kitty Rodgers and her husband Hermann were also ensconced along the coast at their Villa Lou Viei at Cannes. Inevitably, word of their presence soon reached press who soon posited that Edward had ‘resigned his military appointment’. This was denied by the Ministry of Information on 8 June.

From the North the news was devastating. By 10 June, the Germans were on the doorstep of Paris and the French government had evacuated to Tours (and subsequently to Bordeaux). But of more relevance to the Duke and Duchess on the French Riviera, this was the day Italy declared war on France and Great Britain. Fortunately, the French forces managed to repel an attack by Mussolini’s troops the following day (this came as no surprise to Edward as, during his recent tour of inspection, he had found the French defences in the Alps to be ‘excellent’). The only physical manifestation of the war at La Croë was when the sirens sounded during an Axis air attack on the airbase at St-Raphael to the west. Nevertheless, the writing was on the wall for both the Duke and the Duchess. They had to find a way to escape or risk capture.

On 16 June, the Duke decided to seek the advice of the British Consul-Generals at Nice and Marseilles and eventually a plan was formed whereby Edward and his wife, along with their neighbours, the George Woods’, would join a consular convoy to the Spanish frontier organised by Major Hugh Dodds, the Consul-General at Nice and the Vice-Consul at Menton, Martin Dean. The Windsor’s Buick, driven by their chauffeur Ladbrook, was filled to bursting, for in addition to themselves, the royal duo were accompanied by the Duchess’ maid and the Duke’s comptroller, Major Gray Philips, as well as three Cairn dogs. A lorry containing the royal luggage followed on behind. The group left La Croë on the Duchess of Windsor’s birthday, 19 June, just three days after Marshal Henri Pétain had assumed the office of Prime Minister and was on the verge of signing an armistice with Germany. The main problem now was that neither the Duke nor Duchess had the relevant visa to enter Spain. There was also the possibility that the Duke-who was careful to travel in civilian clothes- might be arrested by the Spanish authorities on the basis that he was a serving British army officer entering a neutral country. Nevertheless, there was little option but to keep going as Italian planes were bombing Cannes as they passed through and there was word that German forces had already reached Lyon.

After an uncomfortable night spent at a hostelry in Arles, the party set off at dawn for the Spanish frontier, inching their way along congested roads. Throughout the journey the Duke, who was perhaps better known in southern Europe as the iconic Prince of Wales of yesteryear, managed to pass through the many barricades manned by locals en route by announcing, ‘Je suis le Prince de Galles. Laissez-moi passer s’il vous plait.’ On reaching Perpignan, however, no amount of Princely charm seemed to work on the Spanish consul and it was only after the Duke made a telephone call to the Spanish Ambassador to France, José Félix de Lequerica, that the party were allowed to pass through the frontier around 7pm.

An hour later, at the British Embassy in Madrid, the Ambassador, Sir Samuel Hoare, informed the Foreign Office of the Duke and Duchess’ arrival in Spain. The royal couple spent the first night on Spanish soil in a hotel in Barcelona. Next morning-21 June-the Duke called on the British Consul-General in Barcelona and sent the following telegram to London: ‘Having received no instructions have arrived in Spain to avoid capture. Proceeding to Madrid. Edward.’ However, far from being safe in this neutral country, the Duke and Duchess were about to enter a world of subterfuge, plots and intrigues….

.

King of the Belgians Freed by US Troops.

When German troops invaded Belgium, on 10 May 1940, King Leopold III of the Belgians decided (in direct opposition to the advice of the Belgian Cabinet who were relocating to London) to remain with his people rather than go into exile. On 28 May, with the military situation now all but hopeless, the King (who was in Bruges) decided to surrender the Belgian army to prevent further bloodshed both among his troops and the general populace. He also released a message, telling his people, ‘I will not leave you in these tragic moments. I shall stay with you to protect you and your families and your fate will be mine.’

On Hitler’s orders, Leopold was taken captive and sent back to Brussels, on 29 May. There, he was met at the entrance hall of his home , the Château de Laeken, by a German officer. As the hour was early, the King then proceeded to his bedroom to rest. Looking out of the window, he spotted two German foot soldiers keeping guard. This military presence quickly made him realise that he was now a prisoner-of-war in his own home.

At first life for the royal family (the widowed King and his three children, Josephine-Charlotte, Baudouin and Albert) was reasonably comfortable, despite the fact that half of the Château was soon commandeered by the German occupying forces. Furthermore, Hitler was keenly aware of the need to keep Leopold under close surveillance and so he appointed an experienced German diplomat, Colonel Werner Kiewitz as ‘gardien en chef’ to the King. Kiewitz was a fluent French speaker and any communications between Hitler and the King (and vice-versa) were channelled through him. He also acted as a ‘gatekeeper’, controlling all access to the King and accompanying him on any trips outside of the palace. When Leopold subsequently made a request to swap his palace for a villa, ‘Les Bouleaux’, at Tervuren, it was promptly turned down. The King did eventually have an audience with Hitler at Berchtesgaden, on 19 November 1940, in an attempt to persuade the Führer to release Belgian POWs, and issue a public statement about Belgium’s future independence. Sadly, the meeting proved unproductive.

However, romance was in the air and, on 11 September 1941, the King remarried in a religious ceremony held in the Royal Chapel at Laeken. His second wife was the British-born Lilian Baels, the daughter of a former Governor of West Flanders. She was given the title of the La Princesse de Réthy. Lilian gave birth to a son Alexandre in July, 1942.

Prior to the Allies landing in Normandy on 6 June 1944, Leopold had made a ‘testament politique’ for he had a premonition that the Germans might seek to relocate him and his family from Belgium. Indeed, there had already been an earlier threat to do this after the King had written to Hitler, in November 1942, remonstrating against Belgians being sent to work in factories in Germany, as forced labour. Leopold had aggravated the situation by also raising the matter twice with the President of the Red Cross in Belgium, Doctor Nolf. Indeed, on 18 February 1943, the Führer sent a special envoy (General Muller) to Brussels by air to inform the Belgian monarch that his approaches to the Red Cross (as well as those to Berlin) had irritated Hitler and instructing Leopold, ‘on pain of deportation’ to not further violate the restrictions imposed on him as a prisoner-of-war. In fact, Hitler was now firmly of the view that if the Allies mounted an invasion on mainland Europe, the King should be moved to Hirschstein Castle near Dresden.

Sure enough, on the evening of 6 June 1944, while Allied troops were beginning their invasion of Normandy, Colonel Kiewitz called on His Majesty and informed him politely that, on the direct orders of the Führer, he was being moved to a new location in Germany. They were to leave at 7am the following day. Despite the King making a last-minute appeal to the German Military Governor, General Alexander Von Falkenhausen, the decision stood. Leopold was permitted to take only one suitcase and was driven away in a German staff car accompanied by Kiewitz and an SS motorcycle escort. The first stop on the journey was made at 4pm at the Château Royal at Ciergnon. It was only at this stage that the King was informed by Kiewitz that his wife and children were also to be deported from Belgium. Fortunately, Leopold was able to make contact with Lilian via a direct telephone line to Laeken. Thereafter, although the King had still not yet been informed of his final destination, he was required to resume his journey, stopping for the night at the Hotel Brasseur, in the city of Luxembourg. Leopold eventually reached Hirschstein Castle, a medieval edifice situated on a promontory on the banks of the River Elbe, on the evening of 9 June.

In the meantime, following upon her telephone converation with her husband, on 7 June, the Princesse de Réthy had attempted to delay her departure by protesting that some of the children were ill. Furthermore, on 8 June, she lodged a formal appeal with the occupying power. This was backed up by a telegram sent directly to Hitler by the German-born Queen Mother, Elisabeth. The King had also written a note to the German authorities from Ciergnon indicating that he wished his wife and children to remain in Belgium. However, all these attempts were in vain. At 3am, on 9 June, a Major Bunting called on the Princess and informed her that her appeal had ‘been rejected’ and that she and her party were due to depart Laeken later that day. Lilian was a formidable woman and she immediately contacted Cardinal Van Roey, the Belgian Primate, as well as senior officials of the judiciary, to intercede on her behalf. Nonetheless, she eventually had no option but to comply with the German order and, at 6.30 that evening, she and her children (driven in a requisitioned royal car) headed a convoy of several cars and two lorries (carrying food and fuel) which was escorted by a group of German army outriders and a detachment of the Gestapo. Included in the Princess’ party was the children’s tutor, Vicomte Gatien du Parc Locmaria and the King’s Private Secretary, Monsieur Willy Weemaes. The Court Physician, Dr. Charles Rahier was a late addition.

Princess Lilian’s convoy followed roughly the same 500-mile route as that of the King, with the first night being spent at the Hotel Brasseur in the city of Luxembourg and that of 10-11 June at the Hotel Elephant in Weimar. It was during her stay at the latter, that Lilian was peremptorily informed that most of those accompanying her were ‘not authorised’ to proceed further. Worse still, she and her son Alexander were to travel separately from the King’s older children. Following some ‘violent protestations’ on the part of the Princess, the latter idea was quickly abandoned. Furthermore, some of the accompanying party-including the tutor and private secretary-were allowed to proceed. The somewhat diminished convoy arrived at the gates of Hirschstein Castle late on the evening of 11 June.

Meanwhile, on 14 June, radio stations in Belgium broadcast the news that the King and his family had been removed from the Château de Laeken, at the personal request of the Führer. The reason given was that the recent ‘Anglo-American’ air attacks over Laeken had rendered this location unsafe. The King’s new residence, listeners were assured, was of a standard ‘in keeping with his rank and position’. This was somewhat stretching the truth, for although the accommodation at Hirschstein was adequate (if somewhat cramped) and the family were able to take daily exercise in the extensive grounds, other conditions there were far from ideal: a new ‘gaoler’ named Colonel Otto Lurker had been appointed. He was terrified that his charges might try to escape, so he deprived them of all contact with the outside world. Soon, letters from friends sent through emissaries in neutral countries, such as Sweden and Switzerland, were intercepted with a vengeance. Furthermore, the property was surrounded by three-metre-high walls topped with barbed wire and patrolled by a team of guard dogs. For good measure, a unit of sixty SS Guards (ultimately overseen by a Gruppenführer Von Alvensleben) kept up a constant (and vigilant) watch over their royal prisoners.

On 1 February 1945, Von Alvensleben informed the King that, owing to the rapid advance of Russian forces, he and his family’s stay at Hirschstein Castle was over. He was relocating them to southern Germany, on his own initiative. However, only Leopold and his family were to be taken there. The other Belgians in the group would be transferred to another location. The King refused to agree to this and immediately telegraphed Von Kaltenbrunner in Brussels. An impasse followed but on 6 March, Colonel Lurker informed His Majesty that he and his family were now being sent to Austria. Leopold, Lilian and the children would travel by car, while other members of the royal party were to take the train.

The 300-mile journey, which commenced at 4am on 7 March, was not without incident. During a snowstorm in Munich, the royalties were forced to take shelter for the night in seedy hotel and on other occasions their progress was interrupted by Allied aircraft patrolling overhead. Indeed, when the royal family reached the outskirts of Salzburg the following day, they were forced to abandon their cars and seek shelter in a tunnel for three hours. Thus, it was late in the evening of 8 March before the little group reached their final location, a villa in Strobl, some 50km south east of Salzburg, on the shores of Lake Wolfgangsee. Conditions there were similar to those at Hirschstein, with the property again being surrounded by a barbed wire fence patrolled by guard dogs. However, the military guard had now risen to seventy. Furthermore, the accommodation was somewhat incommodious and food was scarcer to come by. Indeed, the children seemed to be constantly hungry. For the King, the one high point was the receipt of a letter-the first in nearly eleven months- from his mother, Queen Elisabeth. Nevertheless, Colonel Lurker remained a menacing presence.

On 29 March, American troops advanced into Austria, a fact of which the King remained completely unaware. Similarly, in Belgium, the liberation of which had been completed by 4 February, there was no clue as to the King’s whereabouts, so tight had been Lurker’s control of information. Then, on 7 May, while looking out of a window, Leopold spied an American tank approaching the villa. As the German guards seemed to have suddenly disappeared, he sent out one of his officials to investigate. Soon, two officers of the US Seventh Army, a Colonel Wilson and his colleague Major Howard, entered the hall of the royal residence and were astonished to find the King and his family standing there. According to Leopold’s recollection, when he informed the Americans of the whereabouts of the SS guards, they exclaimed, ‘Come on. Let’s go and shoot them!’ However, the King soon diffused the situation by saying, ‘ No, not in our house.’ He then indicated that the guards should be taken prisoner by the Americans and then brought before their Commanding Officer for questioning, adding , ‘He will decided their fate.’ Leopold’s reward was to receive a final Nazi salute and a cheeky ‘Heil Hitler’ from his former captors, as they were taken away in trucks.

Meanwhile, the King-who was now dizzy with the joy of freedom and determined to return to Brussels as soon as was practicable-requested that General Alexander Patch, who commanded the US Seventh Army, be informed of his whereabouts. This news was duly passed on by Patch to the Belgian authorities. Events then moved on quickly: Leopold’s brother Charles (who had recently been appointed Regent in his brother’s absence) arrived at Strobl on 9 May accompanied by the Belgian Prime Minister, Achille Van Acker, and representatives from other political parties. It gradually became apparent, following various meetings at Strobl and later at Saint Wolfgang (to where the royal party had relocated on 18 May) that Leopold’s return home was going to be much delayed due to various complications including social and political unrest. As the King was no longer regarded as a symbol of unity in Belgium, the question of his abdication also hung ominously in the air.

In October 1945, the King and his family moved to Switzerland and installed themselves in the smart Villa Reposoir at Pregny, a suburb of Geneva. They were to remain there until 22 July 1950 when they returned to Brussels. However, following the King’s homecoming, the situation showed no sign of settling down and support among government ministers was hemorrhaging . Thus, on 31 July, Leopold was forced to delegate his powers to Baudouin, who was now given the title of Prince Royal. On 16 July 1951, King Leopold III formally abdicated and Baudouin ascended the throne. It was a sad ending to a reign, which in the early years with his first wife, the iconic Queen Astrid at Leopold’s side, had shown such promise.

Norwegian Royal Visit to the US.

Crown Prince Olav and Crown Princess Märtha of Norway undertook an extensive ten-week, 15000 mile tour of the United States in the Spring and Summer of 1939 with the aim of strengthening ties between Norway and the United States. The royalties reached New York on 27 April aboard the Norwegian-American liner Oslofjord which unfortunately rammed and sank a pilot boat as it entered the city’s port in foggy weather. Nevertheless, thousands of New Yorkers were on hand to greet the royals with a traditional ticker tape parade down Broadway.

However, the tour truly kicked off, on 28 April, with a two-night stay with President and Mrs Roosevelt at their country estate, at Hyde Park, some ninety miles north of the ‘Big Apple’. Olav and his wife came ashore at Poughkeepsie at 4pm having travelled up the Hudson River aboard the presidential yacht Potomac from New York. The following afternoon, Märtha and the Prince were treated to an informal picnic lunch of hot dogs and apple pie at Top Cottage and a good rapport was struck up between the President and his guests by the time they departed on 30 April. In commemoration of the visit, the royal couple would later send the Roosevelts a gilded coffee service by the renowned Norwegian designer, David Andersen.

On 1 May, the royals paid a visit to the World’s Fair at New York’s Flushing Meadow to inspect the Norwegian Pavilion. The New York Times noted that the Crown Prince made a speech in which he saw no sign of peace in the world of tomorrow. The following evening, Olav and Märtha attended a Fleet Ball at the Waldorf Astoria given in honour of naval officers from over thirty nations whose battleships were currently moored in or near the city. On 3 May, the couple were the guests-of-honour at a ‘State Banquet’ given by the Official Committee for Norway’s Participation in the New York World Fair.

Thereafter, the royal couple’s duties through thirty-four states varied considerably but the focus was on visiting areas with close dynastic connections to Norway, particularly in the Mid-West. During three days spent in Chicago, Illinois, in early May, the Crown Prince and Crown Princess toured the Norwegian-American Hospital and Nurses’ Home, were guests-of-honour at a grand dinner attended by 1500 guests at the Loop Hotel, paid a visit to the University of Chicago and were feted by a crowd of 4000 during a visit to the United Evangelical Lutheran Church at Oak Park. Märtha even managed to sneak in a private visit to a nearby department store by ditching the flags on the official car so as to travel relatively incognito. The royal duo then travelled westwards by rail to La Crosse in Wisconsin where, on 6 May they were swept in a Cadillac with an outrider escort to the home of Mrs. Helga Gundersen for lunch. This was followed by an impressive street parade through the town featuring a marching band and cheerleaders. At the post-parade reception at Riverside Park, the Crown Princess was presented with an enormous bouquet of red roses, while the Crown Prince received a walking cane and a silk top hat. Olav and Märtha then departed by train for an overnight stay in Decorah, Iowa where they dined with Dr Sabo, the Norwegian Vice-Consul, opened a gymnasium and the Crown Prince presented gifts to the local Norwegian-American Historical Museum from the National Association of Museums in Norway.

The royalties reached Los Angeles in time for the Norway Independence Day celebrations on 17 May which were held at Sycamore Grove Park. The event included a display of traditional Norwegian dancing and a male choir singing a hearty rendition of the Norwegian National Anthem, ‘Ja, Vi Elsker Dette Landet.’ Olav and Märtha had previously been introduced to fellow countrywoman and Olympic figure skater turned movie star, Sonja Henie, who was part of the official welcoming committee. However, the royal party had little time to catch their breath as they were scheduled to be in San Francisco next day, to act as host and hostess at the Norwegian Pavilion at the Golden Gate International Exposition on Treasure Island. The couple were much impressed by the Pavilion which was in fact a massive log cabin in the shape of a horseshoe with a large raftered lounge at the centre. The Prince and Princess remained in the city for several days.

Although it was late Spring, the Norwegian visitors must at times have felt they had been transported homewards. During a subsequent visit to Oregon, a snow storm required the royalties to shelter under a tarpaulin while dedicating a new ski lift at Mount Hood. Fortunately, the recently-constructed Timberline Lodge Hotel nearby offered the sort of comforting facilities necessary for a good warm-up as the Princess was dressed in a flimsy black crepe dress more suitable for summery climes. Then, on 24 May, after a formal lunch at the Paradise Inn in the resort of Paradise, the royal couple went on a skiing trip down Mount Ranier. The Seattle Times noted cheekily that Olav’s ski attire ran to a ‘cap that had seen better days and a battered leather jacket.’ However, the Crown Prince proved to be an accomplished skier and soon left the majority of his party (including his wife Martha) lagging a good quarter-of-a-mile behind. On their return to Paradise, a banquet was given at the Inn, where the royal guests of honour, dress in their best evening finery, dined on crab cocktail, steak, asparagus, potatoes and fresh strawberry pie.

On 27 May, the royal duo attended one of the most moving events on their schedule: the dedication of a Memorial to Zakarias Martin Taftezon, the first Norwegian settler to traverse North America to Puget Sound, at the Stanwood Lutheran Cemetery in Washington State. The Crown Prince and Princess departed the next day for Seattle (with ninety pieces of luggage) to attend a festival at the Seattle Civic Auditorium. Olav also paid a solo visit to a Seattle lumber mill and was later intrigued to inspect the construction site of the Grand Coulee Dam over the Columbia River. The month of May ended with a visit to the city of Spokane where a civic welcome had been arranged at the Pavilion on Bernard Street. This stop was apt choice as Norwegian settlers had settled nearby in “Little Norway” in the mid-19th century. As with many of the stops, the city had an active Sons of Norway branch.

As June dawned, the Crown Prince and Crown Princess had moved on eastwards into Montana where several days was spent in the scenic but icy Glacier National Park. For fun the couple were given (and gamely wore) a matching pair of ‘his and hers’ cowboy outfits prior to taking to the local trails on horseback. A sightseeing tour of the Grand Canyon was another highlight as was observing the geysers and wildlife (including a family of bears) from an open-topped car in Yellowstone National Park.

On occasion-such as the visit to Concordia College in Moorhead, Minnesota on 8 June (where the Prince received the College’s first honorary doctorate at a specially delayed graduation ceremony)-the royal couple would stay overnight in a local private home (on this occasion that of Congressman L.B. Hanna). This was convenient as it allowed the duo to carry out three further engagements in the neighbouring town of Fargo the following day before moving on to Fergus Falls. Before departing Minnesota the couple attended an event hosted by the Governor at the State Fair grounds in St Paul’s, the State Capital.

The tour reached Sioux Falls in South Dakota on 14 June where Olav and Martha again received a rousing welcome as they drove down South Phillips Avenue. A visit to Madison, the State Capital of Wisconsin followed with yet another State Dinner appointment, this time hosted by the Governor, Julius P Heil. The royal duo then motored, next morning, to Heg Memorial Park in Racine County to join in celebrations for the centenary of the foundation of the Norway-Moskego settlement. This was a true family event for thousands came from surrounding communities to picnic and listen to music from a Drum and Bugle Corps and the Waterford High School Band. Crowds also turned out in force in Milwaukee, on 21 June, when the Prince and Princess were feted all the way down Wisconsin Avenue to a Norwegian-American cultural event at Juneau Park.

Honorary degrees were also still very much on the itinerary as is evidenced when the duo subsequently paid a visit to the historical College of William and Mary in Williamsburg (founded in 1693 by British Royal Charter). On this occasion Olav was awarded a Doctor of Laws degree (LL.D.). The state of Virginia was also the setting for a spell at the celebrated West Virginia Resort in White Sulphur Springs. A rest must have been badly needed for a full examination of the tour schedule reveals that the majority of the couple’s time had been spent in a repetitive cycle of meeting and greeting, listening to speeches, replying to said speeches, watching dance displays, attending official lunch and dinners, in addition to the receiving of Honorary degrees.

Märtha and Olav arrived in Washington D.C., on 27 June, to a warm greeting at Union Station from the Secretary of State and Mrs Cordell Hull. Two days later, they and the Norwegian Minister were treated to tea with the President in South Portico of the White House. The Prince had earlier met with the Vice-President at the Capitol and lunched with members of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. The royal party also undertook a private tour of Mount Vernon, the home of the first President of the United States. The final day of June was spent in Philadelphia where the Crown Prince and Crown Princess paid a visit to the Independence Hall to sign the visitor’s book and were praised in the local press for their ‘democratic manner’. The Philadelphia Inquirer also noted that the couple had-to date-travelled to 35 cities (the number of towns and outposts being too numerous to cite with accuracy) and that the Prince had delivered 264 speeches or words of thanks.

Following a visit to Boston on 1 July, Crown Prince Olav celebrated his 36th birthday on 2 July with his wife as a guest of William A. Coolidge, a fellow graduate of Balliol College, Oxford, at his estate in Topsfield, Massachusetts. Coolidge was a well-known lawyer and financier and had laid on a surprise for his Nordic friend: a huge birthday cake (weighing 75 pounds) bearing the armorials of the Crown Prince set between two Norwegian flags and with 36 candles set around the base.

The royal duo ended their tour back in New York, from where they set sail aboard the Norwegian-American Line liner Stavangerfjord for home on 6 July. Addressing a crowd earlier in the day at the unveiling of statue of the Norwegian explorer Leir Erikson, Crown Prince Olav stated, ‘We carry with us today a chest of memories that we will treasure as long as we live.’ Interestingly, although Crown Prince Frederik of Denmark and his wife Ingrid had been undertaking a similar tour of the States, it is the tour by the Norwegian royal couple that has truly enthralled readers over the decades.

Queen Wilhelmina Flees…

In my latest published article in May’s ‘Majesty’ Magazine, I describe how Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands is forced to seek refuge in London following the German invasion in May 1940. My account commences by chronicling how the Dutch Royal Family flee from one palace to another in an attempt to avoid capture by German occupation forces and Dutch Fifth Columnists. Although Wilhelmina then intends to join her troops in Zeeland and lead resistance efforts from there, I reveal that the British government unexpectedly orders the Royal Navy destroyer transporting her there to change course for Harwich. Despite the Queen’s fury at being double-crossed in this manner, I find that she soon recovers her equilibrium and receives a warm welcome from King George VI on her arrival in London. Wilhelmina then sets up a Secretariat in the Blitz-ravaged capital and quickly establishes herself as the symbol of the Dutch Resistance thanks to her patriotic broadcasts over Radio Oranje and warm welcome to loyal Engelandvaarders. I also divulge that she play a useful diplomatic role during visits to Canada and the United States (where she meets President Roosevelt at Mount Vernon).

The full article is contained in May’s edition of Majesty Magazine is available from Pocketmags. The link is below:

https://pocketmags.com/majesty-magazine

Queen Margrethe of Denmark at 80!

On 16 April, Queen Margrethe-one of the most respected Sovereign’s in European history-reaches the milestone age of eighty.

Margrethe Alexandrine Þórhildur Ingrid was the eldest child of Crown Prince Frederick of Denmark and his Swedish-born wife Crown Princess Ingrid. She was born at the Amelienborg Palace in Copenhagen at a particularly dark time in the country’s history as only a week previously German troops had invaded and occupied its Northern neighbour. Although the Queen’s memories of this period are sketchy, she is able to recall how her paternal grandfather, King Christian X, would ride through the streets of Copenhagen each Sunday, cheered on by his people, as a symbol of defiance.

At the time of her birth, Margrethe was not in the line of succession as only males could ascend the throne of Denmark. When her father succeeded to the throne as Frederick IX on 20 April 1947, it was the King’s brother, Knud, who became heir presumptive, with the title of Hereditary Prince of Denmark. Yet, at this stage in her life, the Princess was more concerned with playing with her younger sisters Benedikte (born in April 1944) and eight-month-old Anne-Marie. The three sisters soon formed a close bond, both amongst themselves and with their adoring parents. In the family, Margrethe was affectionately known as ‘Daisy.’ Although the King was ‘immensely democratic’ and kindly, Queen Ingrid-a lady imbued with extraordinary willpower, judgment, flair and discipline-ensured that her daughters were well-versed in royal etiquette.

Nevertheless, matters were about to change. It was by now increasingly clear that the King and Queen might never have a son. This resulted in a political initiative to change the law of succession, a move partly influenced by the efforts of Queen Ingrid as part of her attempts to establish the Danish monarchy as a modern institution. A new Act of Succession, passed in March 1953, permitted female succession to the throne of Denmark, according to male-preference cognatic primogeniture. This allowed for a female to ascend to the throne but only if she did not have a brother(s). The practical manifestations of this new law were that Princess Margrethe became heir presumptive while her sisters were also elevated before Knud and his family in the Danish line of succession.

As a future queen regnant, it was important that Princess Margrethe should receive a good education. Initially, she had been tutored at home by governesses prior to attending a private school in Copenhagen (Zahles Skole). After graduating in 1959 (by which time she had been given a seat on the State Council) , Margrethe travelled to England to spend a year as a boarder at the renowned girl’s school, North Foreland Lodge.

Thereafter, the Princess (who by now was fluent in Danish, English, French, Swedish and German) focused on acquiring a university level of instruction. In 1960, she enrolled for a course in philosophy at Copenhagen University. This was followed, in 1961, by a year at the University of Cambridge (Girton College) studying prehistoric archaeology. The Princess then concentrated on reading political science at Aarhus University and the Sorbonne in Paris, followed by a course in sociology at the London School of Economics in 1965.

In 1958, Margrethe commenced a period of voluntary service with the Danish Women’s Flying Corps. This marked the beginning of a close involvement with the military lasting throughout her reign both in Denmark (where she is Commander-in-Chief of the defence forces) and the United Kingdom (where she is Colonel-in-Chief of the Princess of Wales’s Royal Regiment). By the mid-1960’s, Margrethe was also undertaking official engagements as well as chairing meetings of the State Council in the absence of King Frederik IX.

Yet, there was also time for fun. In 1960, Margrethe and her sisters toured the United States, along with some Swedish cousins, during which they paid a visit to Paramount Studios in Los Angeles where they met Elvis Presley and Dean Martin. The Princess learned how to cook, practised jiu-jitsu and developed a keen interest in art. Indeed, from tentative beginnings, Margrethe has gone on to become an accomplished book illustrator (for the Danish edition of Tolkien’s ‘Lord of the Rings’ using the pseudonym Ingahild Grathmer) as well as an adept costume and scenery designer (including for a Danish Royal Ballet production). At home, she collects old magazines from which she cuts out pictures in order to make the most wonderful decoupage tea trays. She is also a skilled painter and embroiderer.

In 1967, Margrethe married a French diplomat, Count Henri de Laborde de Monpezat at Copenhagen’s Holmen Kirke. The couple had met in England during the Princess’ period at the London School of Economics. At that time Henri was working in the British capital at the French Embassy. He now took the title of His Royal Highness Prince Henrik of Denmark. They were soon blessed by the arrival of two sons: Crown Prince Frederick (born on 26 May 1968). A second child, Joachim, soon followed on 7 June 1969. The duo later purchased the Château de Cayx in France. This proved to be both a wonderful place for the family to spend summer holidays, as well as providing a decent source of income from the property’s vineyards.

Margrethe succeeded her father upon his death on 14 January 1972 thus becoming the first female monarch of Denmark since Margrethe I, who reigned from 1375-1412. In keeping with tradition, she was proclaimed Sovereign from the balcony of Christiansborg Palace, the following day, by Prime Minister Jens Otto Krag. Rather than being overwhelmed by her new role, Queen Margrethe II was determined to live up to her belief that ‘the least one can do is one’s best.’ She was also resolved to her duty in a manner which would honour the memory of her ‘wonderful father.’ The Queen chose as her motto: ‘God’s help, the love of The People, Denmark’s strength’.

A mainstay of this role is that the Sovereign must be impartial and ‘outside politics,’ although she formally appoints a new government led by the leader of the party who has the support of the largest number of seats in the Folketing (the Danish Parliament), but only following upon a period of consultation with the leaders of other political parties. However, although the Queen signs Acts of Parliament, these can only come into force when they have been countersigned by a Cabinet Minister. The Prime Minister and Foreign Minister are received in audience on a regular basis by Her Majesty to keep her informed her of the latest political developments. In addition, Margrethe receives ambassadors from overseas, who present her with their credentials prior to starting work in Denmark.

Queen Margrethe has made it clear that she will never abdicate her throne. She has also tended to follow the view of the mother that the royal family must be accessible to the people. She attends the opening of public buildings, tours exhibitions and holds official receptions at the Amelienborg and at her country home at Fredensborg. Each summer, Margrethe undertakes an extensive tour of her nation aboard the Royal Yacht Dannebrog during which she meets local citizens and visits nearby businesses. The yacht has also proved most useful as a travelling home during Her Majesty’s frequent trips to Greenland and the Faroe Islands.

Margrethe is also the public face of her country on the international stage. One of her first State Visits was to the United Kingdom, in 1974, and an emotional reunion with her kinswoman, Queen Elizabeth II. It is no secret that the Danish Queen regards the senior sovereign with affection and respect. This is hardly surprising given that Margrethe’s maternal grandmother, Princess Margaret of Connaught was British. Furthermore, both sovereigns are great-great granddaughters of the great Queen Empress, Victoria. This tradition of foreign travel has continued throughout Queen Margrethe’s reign and in recent years she has undertaken State or Official visits to places as geographically diverse as Italy, Ghana, Argentina and Indonesia.

Despite her accessibility, Margrethe is wise enough to have realised that the line between a public and private life must be respected. Private times, she states, are necessary so as to be able ‘to recuperate’ and ‘to relax’. However, she is equally dismissive of the view that this distancing is in any way related to preserving the ‘mystique’ of the monarchy.

On 18 November 1995, Prince Joachim married Alexandra Manley, a Hong-Kong based businesswoman. The couple went on to have two children: Nikolai, born on 28 August 1999 (who was the Queen and Prince Henrik’s first grandchild) and Felix (born on 22 July 2002). Sadly this union ended in divorce in April 2005, although the couple remained on good terms. Alexandra is today known as the Countess of Frederiksborg. Prince Joachim remarried in 2008. His bride Marie Cavallier, was born in Paris, educated in Switzerland and the US and, at one stage, worked for the cosmetics firm Estee Lauder. The duo have two children, Prince Henrik and Princess Athena.

Crown Prince Frederick took longer to settle down but his marriage, in May 2014, to Mary Donaldson, an Australian of Scotch descent from Tasmania, has proved to be very successful. The couple have four children: Fourteen-year-old Christian (who is second-in-line to the Danish throne), Isabella, Vincent and Josephine. The Queen is on excellent terms with both of her daughters-in-law and has described her relationship with Crown Princess Mary as ‘very good’ and ‘warm’.

However, despite these many additions to the family, Queen Margrethe has suffered her fair share of losses. In November 2000, Queen Ingrid (who had grown increasingly frail following a fall) died at Fredensborg Palace at the grand old age of ninety. All of her daughters were at her bedside. Each summer, Margrethe keeps her late mother’s memory very much to the fore by spending time at Ingrid’s former summer home, Gråsten Palace in Jutland.

Sadly, in September 2017 it was announced that Henrik-the Prince Consort-was living with dementia. It was later revealed that he had a benign tumour on his lung. He died at Fredensborg on 13 February 2018 aged 83. Following her husband’s funeral on 20 February, Queen Margrethe released a statement saying how deeply moved she and her family had felt ‘to witness the warmth and sympathy that swept towards us from all parts of Danish society.’ Yet, the Queen was devastated and so she briefly handed over the reins of power to her son Frederick, who acted as Regent whilst she took a two-week holiday in Norway.

However, as she celebrates her 80th birthday, Margrethe has recently courted controversy by stating in an interview with the Politiken newspaper that ‘ people play a role in climate change, of that there is no doubt. But whether the change is directly man-made, I am not entirely convinced.’ She also feels we should not ‘panic.’ One Danish activist, Signe Munk, called the Queen’s statement ‘extremely unpleasant’. However others, including the Danish People’s Party climate spokesman, Morten Messerschmidt, welcomed the fact that Denmark has a monarch with an opinion of her own.

While major celebrations planned for the Queen’s 80th birthday have been cancelled due to the coronavirus outbreak, Danes still intend to celebrate the day with singing from balconies and windows. A new set of photographs by the photographer Per Morten Abrahamsen and released by the Danish Royal Court over the last few days, have also helped to lighten the mood as has the surprise serenading of the Queen (who stood in her nightgown on a balcony of Fredensborg’s Kuppelsalen) by members of her staff on the morning of her birthday. God Save the Queen! Many Happy Returns!

The Queen’s Royal Maundy Money.

Today is Maundy Thursday and throughout her sixty-eight year reign, Queen Elizabeth II has-with a few exceptions (sadly, including this year due to the Coronavirus outbreak)-taken part in the Royal Maundy Service when she distributes Maundy Money (a selection of specially minted silver one-, two-, three- and four-penny coins) to an equal quota of men and women. The exact number of recipients-who are all retired pensioners and have been active in their local church or community-is determined by the Queen’s age. For instance in 2016, when Her Majesty was aged ninety, ninety-men and ninety-women each received sets of these coins which are distributed in red and white purses similar to those used in Tudor times.

The ceremony, which dates back to A.D. 600, is based on the holding of the Last Supper when Jesus gave his disciples a command or mandatum (the Latin word from which maundy is derived) to love one another. The Order of Service is composed of two lessons and the distribution of the Maundy money takes place following upon each lesson. Fortunately, the Sovereign is no longer required to wipe or kiss the feet of the poor, as some earlier monarchs (including James II) are recorded as having done. However, those attending Her Majesty still wear white linen towels as a poignant reminder of these times. Another nod to the past is that all the principal participants-such as the wonderfully named Lord High Almoner who is officially (and historically) responsible for the organisation of the service-carry nosegays of flowers and herbs (to guard against infection).

In past years, the Queen was invariably accompanied by the Duke of Edinburgh. However, since his retiral, she has, on occasion, been accompanied by other family members (in 2019 this was her granddaughter, Princess Beatrice of York.) In another-even greater-break with tradition, due to the recent cancellation of the Royal Maundy Service at St George’s Chapel, Windsor, Her Majesty has written to those who were due to have been presented with the Maundy money this year and enclosing the much-coveted coins. In her communication, the Queen reflects that, ‘This ancient Christian ceremony…. is a call to the service of others, something that has been at the centre of my life. I believe it is a call to service for all of us.’ Among those honoured are 100-year-old Bill Allen, from Chelmsford in Essex, who was a dispatch rider to Field Marshal Montgomery during the Second World War and has since been an active member of the Royal British Legion.

King Haakon’s Courageous Resistance.

With the outbreak of war in western Europe in September 1939, the Scandinavian Kingdom of Norway decided to adopt a neutral stance. Nevertheless, the country’s monarch, King Haakon VII, had strong links to the British Royal Family: his late wife (and first cousin) Queen Maud was the youngest daughter of Britain’s King Edward VII; while Haakon and Maud’s son Crown Prince Olav had been born and spent much of his childhood at Appleton House on King Edward’s Sandringham estate in Norfolk.

Despite Norway’s neutrality, both the Allies and the Germans were quick to grasp the strategic importance of King Haakon’s northern kingdom. The port of Narvik, in particular, possessed both useful rail transport links to Sweden and all-year-round access to the sea. Whoever controlled this harbour would be well-placed to control the flow of high-grade iron ore (so necessary to Germany, specifically, for the success of the war effort) from northern Sweden to the western coast of Norway. Furthermore, whichever power controlled the ports of Bergen, Trondheim and Stavanger would effectively control access to the North Sea and have a distinct advantage where the vital supply lanes of the Atlantic were concerned.

Germany had long feared that the British would seize the initiative and launch a pre-emptive invasion of Norway. Contemporaneous diplomatic ‘traffic’ as well as the recent boarding by the British, in Norwegian waters, of a German ship, the Altmark (to rescue 299 Allied prisoners-of war), only served to galvanize this view. Thus, on 1 April, Hitler made the decision to invade Norway and, by 3 April an advance group of German supply vessels was heading northwards. This was followed, on 7 April, by a main force which included the heavy cruisers Lützow and Blücher. The latter would reach the Oslofjord on the evening of 8 April.

Britain, meanwhile, was indeed eyeing this Nordic country with interest. Neville Chamberlain’s government had decided to mine several areas of the West coast in advance of landing troops at Narvik, Trondheim, Bergen and Stavanger. However, due to the combination of a disagreement with the French and bad weather, this operation was postponed from 5 April until 8 April. Only Vestfjord, the channel of water that leads to Narvik, was actually mined. By this time, word had already reached the British Admiralty of a concerted movement of German military shipping traffic travelling northwards. Almost immediately, several dozen battleships and a group of destroyers belonging to the British Home Fleet set sail from Scapa Flow and Rosyth towards western Scandanavia.

In Oslo, Crown Prince Olav informed his father, King Haakon, on 8 April, that a transport ship sunk off Lillesand that morning had been transporting German soldiers. In the interim, the German envoy to Norway, Curt Bräuer, now received instructions from Berlin to persuade the Norwegian government of Johann Nygaardsvold to allow German troops into the country, under the pretext of defending Norway from a British invasion. The German request was subsequently rejected on the basis that Norway was a sovereign nation responsible for its own defence.

Nonetheless, during the night of 8-9 April, German troops invaded Norway by air, land and sea, targeting Moss, Oslo, Horten, Arendal, Kristiansand, Egersund, Stavanger, Bergen, Trondheim and Narvik. At around 4am at Oscarsborg Fortress, near the coastal town of Drøbak (some twenty-eight miles from Oslo), Colonel Birger Eriksen spotted the German heavy cruiser Blücher entering Drøbak Sound. Despite having received no official instructions from Oslo to engage, Eriksen gave the order to fire, and the fortress’s guns and torpedo battery succeeded in sinking the cruiser.

The King was informed of the impending invasion around 1.30am by his Prime Minister over the telephone. Nygaardsvold advised Haakon and his family to flee Oslo or risk capture. Norway’s Foreign Minister Halvdan Koht, who had first heard of the German military operations around the same time as the King, held a meeting with Curt Braüer at the Foreign Ministry (Victoria Terrasse) but firmly rejected a German ultimatum to surrender and cooperate with the occupation forces. This was hardly surprising since Koht was a firm believer in maintaining Norway’s neutrality.

As soon as Crown Prince Olav received news of the invasion at his official abode at Skaugum, twelve miles south-west of Oslo, he quickly roused his wife and children. After partaking of a makeshift breakfast, Olav drove his family in his American Buick straight to King Haakon’s residence at the Royal Palace. The Crown Prince later recalled, “I had decided to run down anyone who tried to stop or hinder the car”. Nor did he trust anyone else to drive.

Meanwhile, at 7am (just as Luftwaffe planes were landing at Oslo’s main Fornabu Airport), the Royal Family boarded a special train (swiftly organised by the President of the Storting, Carl Hambro) at Østbanen Station and headed eighty miles northwards to Hamar. On board, they were joined by around 100 government officials and members of the Storting (Parliament). However, the royal train had only made it as far as Lillestrøm, just northeast of Oslo, when Luftwaffe aircraft began bombing the local airport at Kjeller. The train was evacuated and everyone on board temporarily sought refuge in a railway tunnel. The official party eventually arrived at Hamar just after 11am. The Prime Minister, who had travelled north by car, was waiting at the station to greet them.

Thereafter, the elected officials convened at the nearby Festival Hall to discuss what course to take, while the King and his son travelled to a farm at Sælid. Later that day, Nygaardsvold sought an audience with his Sovereign and offered his resignation ‘in order to make way for a government of national unity’. However, during a subsequent meeting of the Council of State, the Prime Minister was persuaded to remain in post as it was felt that to do otherwise might precipitate an unwanted political crisis. Back in Oslo, Curt Braüer held a meeting with the capital’s police chief, Kristian Welhaven, who now agreed to act as an intermediary between the occupying forces, the government and the local authorities. Welhaven would also subsequently help to arrange a meeting-at Bräuer’s request-between the German envoy and King Haakon.

At 7.30pm, the Nazi sympathiser and leader of the right-wing Nasjonal Samling, Vidkun Quisling, taking advantage of the power vacuum created by the departure from Oslo of the legitimate government, entered the studio of the Norwegian Broadcasting Corporation and proclaimed himself Prime Minister. He also called upon the Norwegian people to cease all resistance against the occupying forces and accused the British of violating Norwegian neutrality. It was around this time that Bräuer received instructions from Hitler to meet with King Haakon and convince him to recognise the Quisling government.

Meanwhile, enemy forces (including a crack force of German commandos under the command of a Captain Eberhard Spiller) were already closing in on Hamar with the aim of capturing the King and Storting members. When the alarm was raised, the politicians (who were still ‘in session’ at the Festival Hall and had just been updated on the fall of four of Norway’s largest cities) immediately boarded a train to travel eastwards to Elverum. The Royal Family, meantime, were just sitting down to dinner at Sælid, when word was received from the local police chief of the impending arrival of German troops. The little group immediately set out by car towards Elverum, arriving at 10.30pm. It was at this juncture that a decision was made to send Crown Princess Martha and the three royal children over the border to Sweden. This made sense as Martha was Swedish and her parents, Prince Carl and Princess Ingeborg, were more than happy to come to their daughter’s aid. In August, the four Norwegian royals would relocate to Washington at the invitation of President Roosevelt.

Despite Crown Prince Olav’s objections and fears over his father’s safety, King Haakon agreed to a brief meeting with Bräuer at Elverum on 10 April. The German emissary urged Haakon to follow the example of his elder brother, King Christian of Denmark, and call a halt to any further resistance. The King should also recognise the new government headed by Quisling. Haakon relayed the German demands to his ‘legal government’ in an extraordinary meeting of the Council of State at Nybergsund. His Majesty also made it clear that although he would not attempt to influence the Government in this matter, he could never accept Quisling as Prime Minister. Indeed, Haakon indicated that he was prepared to abdicate both for himself and for his family if the Cabinet decided otherwise. Inspired by the King’s strength of feeling, the Cabinet backed their monarch. Bräuer was later informed of their decision over the telephone by Foreign Minister Koht at 8pm. The German representative then asked Koht pointedly if Norwegian resistance would still continue and was told that it would ‘as long as possible’. The German response was quick and deadly: Luftwaffe aircraft dropped lethal incendiary bombs on both Elverum and Nybergsund and, at one stage, the Heinkel bombers dived to a mere 50 feet to strafe the ground with machine-gun fire, thus forcing Haakon, Olav and government officials to take cover in mud-filled ditches. Forty people were killed in the attack on Elverum alone.

In a ‘proclamation’ to his people in mid-April, Haakon would refer to this incident as a deliberate attempt by the Germans to ‘annihilate all of us assembled for deciding the question for the best future of Norway’. The King also railed against his people being ‘subjected to death and inhuman suffering’ by the Nazis and urged Norwegians ‘to save the freedom and independence of the Fatherland.’

Around this time, a Press Alliance reporter, Elinar Hansen, interviewed the King and Crown Prince over coffee as they took shelter in a farmhouse. Haakon-who was dressed in a mud-spattered uniform- admitted to having only slept fitfully for an hour at a time since the invasion. He was keen to emphasise that the German military action had been launched against himself and his people, ‘at places where no sign of military movement [was] to be found.’

After much confusion at the town of Rena (which resulted in the Prime Minister and half of his government ministers taking a separate route from the others) the King and his depleted party reached the border station with Sweden, at Lillebo, on 12 April. Foreign Minister Koht, who remained with the King, was now very keen for Haakon to seek temporary refuge with Norway’s neutral neighbour. However, this idea proved to be impractical as the Swedish authorities indicated that both the King and the Crown Prince-who both held military rank-would be interned should they attempt to cross the border. Haakon and Olav then travelled on to Koppang and Lake Storsjøen, though this time without the remaining retinue of government ministers. Yet, it was pre-arranged that everyone would reunite, a few days later, in the large valley of Gudbrandsdalen, where Norway’s army chief, General Otto Ruge, had lately established his headquarters. Sadly, Ruge’s plan to block a German land advance northwards out of Oslo was already in tatters as columns of enemy motorized infantry, supported by tanks and air cover easily overcame the Norwegian military’s hastily-constructed barriers.

After another few days trying to keep ahead of the occupying forces, the King and Crown Prince Olav were forced to abandon their cars at Hjerkinn (where the road became impassable due to the wintry weather) and ride in a freight train southward to the town of Otta. The duo then travelled to nearby Heggelund where they spent the night of 14 April at a local inn. This was the first occasion, since leaving Oslo, that the King and Crown Prince were actually able to undress and obtain a decent night’s sleep in a bed. During this stay, the King had an unscheduled visit from his Prime Minister (now taking refuge at Lesjaverk).

However, German troops remained in hot pursuit and General Ruge sent a message to the royal party to seek sanctuary at an isolated mountain farm, Sandbu, near Vågåmo, which belonged to a shipowner, Thomas Olsen. The royals, by now reunited with the party of government ministers, remained there for a period of four days from 17 to 21 April. On 19 April, the Crown Prince briefly journeyed southwards to Øyer to receive a military briefing from General Ruge, for by this time British forces had landed in Harstad and Namsos with the idea of recapturing Narvik and Trondheim from the Germans. From Sandbu the royal party then travelled on to another inn at Stuguflåten, during which the government held several meetings and agreed to the nationalisation of Norway’s merchant fleet. However, with little food available locally, the party was forced to motor on to the town of Molde on the Romsdal Peninsula, which they reach in the early hours of 23 April. This coastal location proved to be far from secure, as Luftwaffe planes were continually bombing the town in anticipation of landings by British forces. Indeed, the King and Crown Prince were forced to abandon their accommodation at dawn each morning and spend much of the day hiding out in the surrounding birch woods.

Towards the end of April, with German forces on the ascendency, the British Minister, Sir Cecil Dormer, invited the King, Crown Prince and government to join a group of British troops who were retreating to Tromsø from their current positions in southern and central Norway aboard the British light cruiser HMS Glasgow. This offer was accepted and, on the evening of 29 April, the Norwegian VIP party gathered at Molde’s key side to embark the ship for the 800-mile journey northwards. Tromsø would now become the seat of the provisional government. An article in the Norwegian newspaper Dagsavisen states that if King Haakon had not accepted the British invitation, he would most likely have been captured and taken to England. However, His Majesty certainly remained full of spirit and pithily declared that the occupiers, ‘are not practising war but murder and arson.’

Thereafter, the appointment of Winston Churchill as Britain’s new Prime Minister, on 10 May, combined with the simultaneous German invasion of the Low Countries, would lead to a change of strategy on the part of the Allies. Subsequent to this, British forces suffered heavy casualties when several British Royal Navy ships were sunk off Norway by the Luftwaffe. Then, on 25 May, (ironically three days before the recapture of Narvik by Norwegian and French forces), Allied commanders received orders to commence a comprehensive evacuation from Norway. This left the King with a difficult decision. Should he remain in Norway (which would mean capture by the Germans) or leave with the Allies? On balance, he decided it would be best to depart Norway and continue the fight for his country’s liberation from Britain.

On 7 June 1940, the Norwegian government held its last meeting on Norwegian soil at Tromsø. A few hours later the King, Crown Prince, members of the government, and the diplomatic corps—a total of 400 passengers—boarded the British heavy cruiser HMS Devonshire for England. Haakon and Olav arrived in London on 10 June and were greeted at Euston Station by King George VI. That same day, German and Norwegian forces signed a cease­fire. However, it is important to emphasise that this cease­fire did not prevent Norway’s legitimate government—now operating out of London—from continuing the struggle against the German invaders.

Subsequently, in Oslo, the German Reich Commissioner Josef Terboven, attempted to establish a ‘legal’, compliant occupation government. However, this would require the King’s abdication. In a speech, delivered over the airways from London on 8 July, King Haakon refused this request and stated that, ‘such action would prevent Norway regaining her freedom and independence.’ The Norwegian monarch also later put up a spirited riposte to those who had criticised his departure from his Nordic Kingdom: ‘If we had stayed in Norway the present rulers of the country would have been able to force us to accept what they wished. It was in order to avoid this that we left the country. From the place where we are now, we can still represent a free Norway.’ Indeed, King Haakon would now become the living symbol of Norwegian patriotism and freedom through his regular broadcasts from London which provided untold comfort to his fellow countrymen.

Certainly, the majority of Norwegians remained loyal to the Crown and did not hesitate to mock Vidkun Quisling and his collaborationist government. Furthermore, the Milorg group (formed in May 1941) which began life as a small sabotage unit, would gradually grow into Norway’s main resistance movement with 40,000 active members. The organisation would go on to play a crucial role in bringing about a German surrender in Norway in May 1945.

The author of this blog takes a keen interest in the fate of royalty during World War II. He examines the wartime adventures of Princess Olga (the sometime Consort of the Prince Regent of Yugoslavia) in Africa (and much else besides) in the new biography Princess Olga of Yugoslavia: Her Life and Times published on 1 April 2021 by Grosvenor House Publishing. This is now available to purchase on Amazon in hardback or e-book.

Princess Pilar of Spain.

The death of Princess Pilar, Duchess of Badajoz, the elder sister of Spain’s King Juan Carlos and Aunt of the present King, Felipe VI, was announced on 8 January. The Princess had been suffering from colon cancer for some time and when her condition deteriorated on 5 January, she was admitted to Madrid’s Hospital Ruber Internacional. Her passing must have come as a shock to many as she had only recently made an appearance at an event for the ‘Rastrillo Nuevo Futuro 2019’ charity.

María del Pilar Alfonsa Juana Victoria Luisa Ignacia y Todos los Santos de Borbón y Borbón-Dos Sicilias (to give her full name in Spanish) was born on July 30, 1936 in Cannes (where her parents, Prince Juan [heir to King Alfonso XIII] and his wife Princess María Mercedes were currently living in exile, as Spain was declared a republic in April 1931). As the firstborn, Pilar would forever have a special place in her parents’ hearts. She was soon joined in the nursery by three siblings, Juan, Margarita and Alfonso.

During the 1940’s, Infante Juan (who following upon his father’s death, in February 1941, assumed the title of Count of Barcelona) moved with his family to Lausanne, to be near his mother, the British-born Queen Victoria Eugenie of Spain. The little family group later settled in Estoril in Portugal, where they inhabited a substantial house, the Villa Giralda. The Princess was initially educated privately at home by a series of Spanish female tutors, although she later attended a private school in Lisbon prior to taking a nursing course at the city’s Artura Ravara Nursing School.

At the age of 21, Pilar travelled to Spain (where she would eventually settle) for the first time to attend the funeral of her maternal grandmother Luisa de Orleans. The Princess was subsequently a bridesmaid at the wedding in Athens of her brother Juan to Princess Sofia of Greece and Denmark in 14 May 1962. She was already acquainted with her future sister-in-law having previously met her during one of Queen Frederika of Greece’s fabled Mediterranean royal match-making cruises.

However, the Princess was to meet her future husband, the Spanish Aristocrat Luis Gomez-Acebo and Duke of Astrada at the Madrid home of the exiled King Simeon of Bulgaria and his Spanish wife Margarita, who was Gomez-Acebo’s cousin. Pilar and Luis were duly married on 5 May 1967 at the Jerónimos Monastery, on the outskirts of Lisbon. Although the Princess was granted the title of Duchess of Badajox by her father at this time, she also automatically forfeited her place in the order of succession by marrying a person of a lower rank . Pilar subsequently gave birth to five children (a girl and four boys) in quick succession.

Aside from motherhood, the Princess undertook many official engagements. She was a regular presence at all major royal events and with her love of all things equine, from 1994 to 2005 she served as President of the International Equestrian Foundation (FEI) and was an active member of the International Olympic Committee and often attended Spain’s National Sports Awards. Pilar was also interested in cultural pursuits and between 2007-2009 she served as President of Europa Nostra which focuses on the preservation of heritage sites in Europe for the enjoyment of future generations.

On occasion, she was photographed shopping for vegetables in a fruit market in the Spanish capital and she was a regular attender (along with her brother Juan and niece Elena) at the annual Corrida de la Beneficencia (charity) bullfight, as well as at the Madrid Open Tennis Tournament.

Pilar’s husband Luis predeceased her, dying of lymphatic cancer in 1991. The Princess’ funeral-a private occasion attended by her immediate family and senior members of the Spanish royal family- took place on 10 January.

A Royal Wartime Christmas in Belgrade.

With war declared throughout most of Europe, Princess Olga of Yugoslavia, the wife of the Prince Regent, Paul, was in a difficult position during that first Christmas of the Second World War. Like many of Europe’s royalty, she had family members on both the Allied and Axis sides. However, as Yugoslavia was still officially neutral, it had already been arranged that Olga’s sister, Princess Elisabeth of Greece and Denmark, who was married to the wealthy Bavarian aristocrat, Count Karl Theodor ‘Toto’ Toerring, would travel from Munich to Belgrade to celebrate the Orthodox Christmas (on 7 January 1940) at Olga and Paul’s luxurious home, the White Palace (Beli Dvor). Elisabeth’s children, Hans Viet and Helen were already in Belgrade having been brought there by their mother from Munich, in early November, at their Aunt Olga’s request. The presence of these extended family members was fortuitous as the Yugoslav royal couple’s sons, Alexander and Nicholas, would not be present in Belgrade over the Festive Season, as both were spending Christmas in England, where they attended boarding school.

Olga had always adored Christmas and was meticulous in her preparations. Her old nurse, Miss Kate Fox, who lived in London, was always sent a detailed list of the Princess’ requirements many months in advance. Christmas puddings from Fortnum and Mason’s were a particular family favourite, as were toys and jokes from Hamley’s celebrated Regent Street toyshop. However, wartime was playing havoc with Olga’s attempts at gift-giving. Hamley’s catalogue had been late in reaching the Serbian capital and the choice was limited. Nevertheless, the Princess soon selected a ‘nice [imitation] Xmas pudding with toys to pull out’ for the entertainment of her two-year-old daughter Elizabeth and the Toerring children. However, when this item failed to materialise, Olga was left with little choice but to scour the local shops for toys with which to fill the children’s Christmas stockings. Her sense of ‘despair’ was only heightened when a luxurious array of gifts arrived, via the diplomatic bag, from her sister, Princess Marina, the Duchess of Kent, in London.

Olga’s gifts were more of a practical nature. When she learned that foodstuffs were scarce in Bavaria, the Princess provided the Toerrings with a Christmas parcel filled with groceries and some soap. Princess Elisabeth and her husband arrived in Belgrade by rail just in time to watch King Peter (who lived in the Royal Palace adjacent to the White Palace at the Royal Compound in the suburb of Dedinje) preside over the traditional Orthodox Christmas Eve Badnjak celebrations. During this event, a troop of the Royal Guard accompanied a decorated gun carriage bearing the large Badnjak (Yule) log which was then carried into the Royal Palace and placed in a large hearth in the hall to burn throughout the Festive celebrations. The Prince Regent and Princess Olga (wrapped up against the cold in a full-length fur coat) accompanied the King throughout the ceremony and then joined him in raising a toast to the good health of his officers. The whole proceedings were captured for the first time on cine film.

In the evening, after Prince Paul had rung the traditional Christmas bell, Elizabeth, Helen and Hans-Veit ‘rushed in’ to the drawing room to gaze at the Christmas tree candles and then open their gifts with the aid of their nurses. The family then ate a traditional Christmas meal rounded off by some good English Christmas puddings. But Olga was soon in despair to receive news by letter that none of her Christmas presents (including those for her sons and a cheque for Miss Fox) had reached England. Clearly, even royal parcels were not exempt from the vagaries of war! Yet, there was little time to mope as Prince Paul and Princess Olga had to leave on a four-day morale-boosting visit to Zagreb.

Queen Helen of Romania-Part 3-Trouble upon Trouble.

When Princess Mother Helen of Romania (as she was styled following the accession of her son Michael to the throne in July 1927) learned that her ex-husband Carol had returned to his homeland as a result of a coup d’état engineered by National Peasant Prime Minister Iuliu Maniu, in June 1930, she was prepared for trouble and turmoil. However, Maniu naively believed that the former Crown Prince was returning as a Regent not as a future king. Yet within 36 hours of Carol’s arrival in Bucharest aboard a chartered plane from France on 6 June, he was being proclaimed king, with the full backing of both the Regency Council and the Cabinet. His son Michael was now demoted to Crown Prince.

Carol then turned his attentions on his ex-wife. Intent on isolating Helen (whom the international press now described as Queen of Romania), he surrounded her home with a police guard who were given firm instructions to report on all comings and goings. The King also refused to allow Sitta (as Helen was known en famille) to undertake public duties and prohibited her from having any contact with politicians. Carol even arranged to relieve Helen of her position as Honorary Colonel of the Ninth Hussars. Perhaps the hardest slight to bear was Carol’s insistence that Michael spend most of the day at the Royal Palace under his care and influence. Mother and son were also separated at Christmas when Michael left to spend the holiday with his father at Sinaia. It did not help that Helen had no homeland to escape to for some respite as the Greek royal family-including her brother King George-were living in exile in Italy.

However, many everyday Romanians sympathised with Sitta’s plight and there were some public demonstrations of sympathy. Sadly, these proved counter-productive as they only succeeded in increasing Carol’s feelings of paranoia. Finally, in July 1931, the situation became so intolerable that Helen boarded a train at Bucharest’s main railway station, without her son, and was waved off by her mother-in-law, Dowager Queen Marie who later admitted to finding the experience ‘unbearable.’ At least Sitta had somewhere to travel to: her brother King George had visited Bucharest in March and negotiated an allowance for his sister (later set at £14000 per annum) as well as sufficient funds for the purchase of a handsome Italian house-the Villa Sparta-at Fiesole, just outside Florence. In November, Helen spent a long spell in Frankfurt to help care for her ailing mother, Dowager Queen Sophie, who was seriously ill with cancer. Sophie died on 13 January 1932.

Thereafter, Helen-who enjoyed access rights to her son and still maintained the use of her home on the Chausee Kiseleff-was able to pay several visits to Romania to see Michael (whom she described as ‘the one bright feature’ in her life). However, Carol was intent on denying her this right of access and eventually succeeded-by means of a new separation agreement formulated in November-in banning Helen from returning to her adopted homeland. Thereafter, Sitta and Michael had to be satisfied with spending holidays together in Switzerland or Italy. Following the restoration of the monarchy in Greece in November 1935, Helen purchased a house in Athens and also spent time at Tatoi with her recently divorced brother King George II. He had a measure of understanding of his sister’s plight having previously been married to Carol’s highly-strung sister, Elisabetha. Sitta and her son Michael were very much in evidence too at the wedding of Crown Prince Paul to Princess Frederika of Hanover in Athens in January 1938. Otherwise, Helen would spend time working in her exquisite Fiesole garden or entertain members of her extended family at the Villa Sparta. She was particularly close to her sister Irene who married Prince Aimone, the Duke of Spoleto (and future Duke of Aosta) in 1939.

Meanwhile, in Bucharest, King Carol had grown increasingly autocratic, manipulating politicians of rival parties to his advantage and focusing on the design of new military uniforms and orders of chivalry with which to adorn himself. To add to his ‘personality cult’, the King also set up a paramilitary youth organisation (the Straja Țării). Following the outbreak of war in September 1939, Carol extended his two-faced approach to his dealings with the Axis and Allied powers. This all caused the American historian Stanley Payne to conclude that the King was “the most cynical, corrupt and power-hungry monarch who ever disgraced a throne anywhere in twentieth-century Europe”. However, in June 1940, Carol ‘s public standing was severely dented when Romania was forced to submit to Soviet demands that the provinces of Bessarabia and North Bukovina be ceded to the Soviet Union. Huge tracts of Transylvania were also given to Hungary under the Second Vienna Award. Amid increasing calls for his removal, the King abdicated in early September 1940 and would soon seek refuge, along with his mistress, Elena Lupescu, in Mexico.

Michael was once again King of Romania. Almost immediately, Helen was ‘respectfully’ invited by the new right-wing Prime Minister, Ion Antonescu, to return to Bucharest ‘to complete the training’ of her son in his role as king. Thousands turned out to cheer the Queen Mother of Romania (a new title bestowed on her by Antonescu) on her arrival. In a subsequent government speech of welcome it was stated that through ‘her modesty and good example’ the Royal Court ‘would again become a symbol of respect and affection’. A Te Deum was later held in the Orthodox Cathedral to conclude the celebrations for her return.

But Helen’s happy return was soon blighted by various developments. Antonescu wielded dictatorial powers even greater than those enjoyed by King Carol prior to his abdication. These were enforced by the Fascist Iron Guard. Then, on 23 November, Antonescu forged closer links to Nazi Germany by signing the Tri-Partite Pact. German troops now crossed into Romania purportedly to protect the country’s oil fields from attack. Meanwhile, Romania’s Fascists waged war on supporters of ex-King Carol and others who had earned their displeasure. This culminated with the execution, on 26-27 November, of over sixty former dignitaries or government officials who were awaiting trial in Jilava prison.

Helen was appalled by the this reign of terror but was absolutely powerless. Yet, she was able to signal her displeasure by leaving Bucharest for Italy ‘at her own request’. The international press siezed on this development and reported that the Queen had departed Bucharest because the Romanian Nazis and the Iron Guard were ‘hostile’ towards her. Michael, however, remained in Bucharest.

Antonenscu now ramped up his right-wing credentials by persecuting the Jewish and Slavic minorities in Romania. One of the most horrific episodes of this period was the murder of 13000 Jews in Jassy, between June and July 1941, at the hands of Romanian forces. Over thirty anti-jewish decrees were issued.

Helen had by now returned to Romania where she tried to keep her personal feelings in check for the sake of her son and the monarchy. Although Antonescu was determined to ensure that she and Michael were mere figureheads, the Queen Mother spent time visiting the wounded in hospital and generally doing what she could to raise morale. With Romania committed, under the Pact, to provide troops for the Axis cause, the injuries and losses were great, particularly during the period of the Battle of Stalingrad, which ended in a defeat for the Axis forces in February 1943. Sitta was also determined to do what she could for the Jewish population and managed to prevent the deportation of the philologist Barbu Lazareanu. Helen also later persuaded the government to allow Jewish organisations to send medical aid, clothing and food to the Jews who were living in ghettos and camps in Transnistria.

Queen Mother Helen ensured too that King Michael developed some backbone. She also guided the King adroitly but firmly through the minefield of Romanian politics. Otherwise, she maintained a polite demeanour and bided her time. When the Axis front in north-eastern Romania collapsed following a successful Soviet offensive, King Michael’s representatives were approached by a pro-Allied National Democratic alliance (composed of communists, Social Democrats and members of the National Peasants Party) and asked to participate in a coup to remove Antonescu. This took place (with the support of the military) on 23 August 1944. Romania now turned against the Axis powers and, shortly thereafter, the country was occupied by the Soviet Army. This sent a shiver down Helen’s spine for she had strong family links to the Romanovs, many of whom had perished at the hands of the Bolsheviks following the 1917 Revolution. However, the Germans still posed a serious threat and in an act of retaliation against Michael’s involvement in the coup, they bombed Helen and Michael’s residence in Bucharest, Casa Nouă. The Queen Mother now fretted constantly over the safety of her son, who was often on military manoeuvres but stoically carried on with her war work. This included the setting up of a soup kitchen in the Royal Palace’s ballroom to feed starving children.

In March 1945, King Michael was forced to accept a communist government headed by Petru Groza. As the communist dictatorship took hold so the position of the King and his mother grew more precarious as they were increasingly marginalised. Sitta complained to her cousin Princesss Olga of Yugoslavia that she and her son were spied on constantly. Helen did manage to obtain permission to travel to Greece for the funeral of her elder brother King George who had died suddenly on 1 April 1947. She was also present at the wedding of her sister Katherine to Major Richard Brandram at the Royal Palace in Athens on 21 April.

Yet air travel was not without its dangers. In October 1947, Helen suffered a severe fright when a private aircraft conveying her from Zurich to Bucharest was forced to land by Soviet fighters on the near the Czech-Hungarian border. Although the Queen was detained for a short period, she was eventually released on the orders of ‘higher Russian officials’. However, she and King Michael later proceeded to London by air to attend the wedding of Princess Elizabeth and the Duke of Edinburgh on 20 November. It was during the nuptial celebrations that young Michael was introduced to Princess Anne of Bourbon Parma. The latter joined Michael, his mother and Aunt Irene on a trip to Lausanne, where the King proposed to this charming French-born princess of Danish heritage. The King and his mother then returned to spend Christmas together at Sinaia. However, it was clear that their presence was no longer welcome and many in authority were surprised that the royal duo had even bothered to make the return journey to Romania at all. On 30 December Michael was deposed from the throne against his will by the Groza government, although it was officially announced that he had ‘abdicated.’ As the year drew to a close, crowds in Bucharest sang the Internationale and called out ‘Long Live the Republic.’ Pictures of the King were removed from public buildings and the royal throne taken from the Parliament chamber. At Sinaia, an emotional Helen looked on as King Michael took the Royal Salute of the Royal Guard for the last time on New Year’s Eve.

On 1 January the international pressed announced King Michael’s abdication. He and Queen Helen arrived in Lausanne by train from Bucharest a few days later . The ex-King was only permitted to take £1000 in cash with him. Helen and her son dutifully posed for the press in their suite at the Beau Rivage. Yet Sitta was already focused on the future and, in February, she proceeded to the Vatican accompanied by Princess Anne’s Danish mother, Princess Margaret of Bourbon-Parma, for an audience with the Pope, Pius XII. The duo were intent on obtaining the Holy Father’s agreement to the marriage between the Orthodox ex-King and Anne, who was a Roman Catholic. The sticking point was that the Roman Catholic Church wanted a written assurance that any children of the marriage be raised in the Catholic faith. Sitta quickly pointed out that such an undertaking could not be given for political reasons. Permission was therefore refused.

In early March, Helen and her son proceeded via Paris to London where, in a display of royal unity, they lunched with King George VI and Queen Elizabeth at Buckingham Palace. The twosome then proceeded to New York where they were accorded the honours due to a reigning king and a queen mother. With royal funds being tight, Sitta and Michael’s expenses were paid for by the US State Department. The purpose of the trip was officially to ‘encourage’ Michael to ‘speak up’ and lay bare the true details of the Communist machinations and threats which had led to his dethronement.

As Michael and Anne’s union could not now be solemnised in a Roman Catholic church, it was arranged, with the help of Helen’s brother King Paul, that the Orthodox Archbishop of Athens, Damaskinos Papandreou would officiate at a marriage service performed under Eastern Orthodox rites , with the reception being held afterwards at the Royal Palace. With Michael now safely married, Helen’s public role was now effectively over for Romania now had a new Queen, albeit one who was required to live in exile for many decades to come. Two final blows were dealt by the communist regime, in the spring of 1948, with the confiscation of all the royal family’s property in Romania and, hardest of all, the withdrawal of their Romanian citizenship.