A Royal History
The popular George VI
AS King George VI and Queen Elizabeth toured the bombed streets of London’s East End during the war, offering words of comfort and sympathy, a man who had lost his home in the Blitz suddenly took hold of an equerry’s arm and pointed to the
King.
“You see him?” he asked, “That’s why we sing ‘There’ll Always Be An England’. God bless him.”
Hearing these words, the crowd around him cheered in agreement. It says much about the resolve of the British people and their affection for the man who had so unexpectedly inherited the throne. In another street a man shouted, “Thank God for a good King!”, to which the King replied quietly, “Thank God for a good people.”
When King George VI was born in 1895, his great-grandmother, Victoria, was Queen, followed in the line of succession by his grandfather
(Edward VII), father (George V) and elder brother (Edward VIII). There seemed little prospect that he would take on the heavy mantle of sovereignty.
Born at York Cottage, Sandringham, on 14 December – the anniversary of the Prince Consort’s death – his father tactfully wrote to Queen Victoria to ask if the baby might be christened Albert. The widowed Queen was delighted by the suggestion and immediately agreed to become the child’s godmother, sending a marble bust of his namesake as a christening present. The baby was given the names Albert Frederick Arthur George, but throughout his life was always called “Bertie” by the Royal Family.
In the nursery it was his brother David, the first-born son and heir, who received all the attention. Their nanny adored David and ignored Bertie, causing him to have a stammer and gastric problems through a poor diet. His parents found outward displays of affection difficult, and Bertie was noticeably shy and withdrawn in their presence.
He was educated by Henry Hansell, a humourless Norfolk schoolmaster, who forced the left-handed boy to write with his right hand. To add to his problems the Prince had to wear painful leg braces to cure congenital knock-knees and at night was strapped into a tortuous contraption to straighten his legs. He cried himself to sleep and as he grew older his stammer became worse.
Bertie led a quiet life, remote from his contemporaries until he was sent to Osborne Naval College on the Isle of Wight as a junior cadet at the age of 13. He was homesick, and bullied because of his stammer, but gradually built up a small circle of pals who remained friends for life. Academically he came bottom of the class in his first year.
Later, the Prince moved to the
Royal Naval College at Dartmouth, but his studies were interrupted by the death of Edward VII and the accession of his father as King George V. The ensuing Coronation, and the fact that he caught both measles and mumps during the great epidemic of 1911, meant at the end of that year he was placed a lowly 67th out of 68 cadets.
In January 1913, the Prince joined the cruiser HMS Cumberland ona tour of duty to the West Indies and Canada. He was a poor sailor and found himself unable to conquer seasickness. In Jamaica, where the people turned out in force to welcome the English prince and show their support for the monarchy, Bertie was so sick with nerves that he persuaded another cadet to impersonate him and wave to the crowds.
Promoted to midshipman on HMS Collingwood during World War I, appendicitis soon forced him to return to England from the Mediterranean. The King’s physician, Sir Frederick Treves, advised the Prince not to go back to sea. He worked for a time at the Admiralty and began undertaking official royal duties in England but, ignoring the advice, he returned to the Collingwood in May 1916.
During the Battle of Jutland the ship was attacked by torpedoes, but suffered little damage.
“I never felt any fear of shells or anything else,” Bertie wrote home. “It seems curious that all sense of danger goes.” He appeared to gain strength from the experience, despite being diagnosed as suffering from a duodenal ulcer for which he underwent surgery at the end of 1917.
Accepting the fact that he should not return to sea again, the Prince joined the Air Force, on which the King had recently bestowed the prefix “Royal”. He went first to the RNAS HMS Daedalus at Cranwell, Lincolnshire, where he learned to fly, before transferring to the Air Cadet School at St Leonards-on-Sea, Sussex, in July 1918. In the last stages of the war he briefly witnessed aerial combat in France.
When the hostilities were over, the Prince joined the Air Ministry staff at Croydon and became the first qualified pilot in the Royal Family, before deciding to complete his education with a period of study at Trinity College, Cambridge.
Increasingly proud of his second son, George V gave Bertie the title Duke of York in the Birthday Honours List of 1920.
On leaving Cambridge, the Duke embarked on official royal engagements. Although speaking in public remained a trial for the rest of his life, a course of treatment with Australian therapist Lionel Logue helped control his stammer. He undertook a number of solo overseas tours, including visits to Africa, Australia and New Zealand.
Back in England after a long tour, he revealed, “I return home a thorough optimist. When one has travelled over the vast extent of the Empire; when one has witnessed what our fathers have accomplished; when one has seen how the great and creative purpose of our kinsmen has triumphed over the most tremendous difficulties, it is impossible to despair of the future of the British race.”
He began to take a keen interest in the industries of England, visiting more than 150 factories and becoming President of the Industrial Welfare Society. If workers told him of a specific need, he saw that the bosses were informed and invariably conditions improved. At New Romsey in Kent he established a summer camp where some 200 boys, aged 17 to 19, could spend a week’s holiday taking part in a wide range of sporting and recreational activities. Later, the camp transferred to Southwold, Suffolk, which the Duke visited each year to join in the fun.
In May 1920 the Duke met the Earl of Strathmore’s daughter, Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, at a private party. Fifteen years earlier at a children’s party, the five-year-old
Lady Elizabeth had taken the cherries off her slice of cake and placed them on the plate of a boy sitting beside her. That boy was now the Duke of York. The Duke became enchanted with the vivacious Lady Elizabeth and by 1922 the couple were engaged, although Bertie had to propose three times before he was accepted.
The couple were married on
26 April, 1923, at Westminster Abbey, the first time a King’s son had been married in the abbey since 1382. As the bride entered the abbey, she laid her bouquet on the Tomb of the Unknown Warrior. She was instantly popular with the British people and was soon dubbed “The Smiling Duchess” by the press.
Marriage gave Bertie a greater sense of security. “He had few friends,” Henry “Chips” Channon wrote, “and was almost entirely dependent on Elizabeth, whom he worshipped. She was his will-power, his all.” Setting up home at White Lodge in Richmond Park, and later at 145 Piccadilly, the Duke became a keen gardener and an expert at tapestry and petit point, once making a dozen chair covers as a gift for his wife.
On 21 April, 1926, the Duchess gave birth to their first child, a daughter christened Elizabeth Alexandra Mary. No-one thought at the time that she would one day be Queen. A second daughter, Margaret Rose, followed in 1930.
For relaxation, the Duke enjoyed sports, particularly golf and tennis. In 1926 he became the first member of the Royal Family to compete at the Wimbledon Tennis Championships. Playing in the Men’s Doubles with his partner, Wing Commander Louis Grieg, they were beaten in straight sets by fellow Brits Arthur Gore and Herbert Roper Barrett.
The Duke continued his interest in England’s industries. Once, when visiting a soap factory, he was told that the firm also made glue. He immediately asked to see the department, but was told that the stench was unbearable.
“If the place is good enough for the people who work there,” he replied, “then it is good enough for me.” It was noted that when he spoke to the workers in the factory there was no hint of a stammer. His nickname became “The Foreman”.
With the death of King George V in January 1936, Bertie’s elder brother David became King Edward VIII. “After I am dead, the boy will ruin himself in twelve months,” George V had predicted, and due to his love for divorcée Mrs Wallis Simpson, Edward abdicated on 11 December, 1936. Throughout that year the Duke of
York had watched the situation with increasing concern, conscious that he was ill-prepared to reign.
It was as if the weight of the world was slowly descending upon his shoulders. When the abdication became a reality, Bertie, in his own words, “broke down and sobbed like a child.” His first deed as King was to create his brother Duke of Windsor. In the royal history of England five previous Dukes of York had unexpectedly become King: Edward IV, Henry VIII, Charles I, James II and George V.
“This is absolutely terrible,” Bertie told his cousin Lord Louis
Mountbatten. “I’ve never even seen a State Paper. I’m only a naval officer.”
Plans for the Coronation of Edward VIII were diverted to that of his brother and the date of 12 May, 1937, remained unchanged. Bertie chose the name George, the last of his four Christian names, and his became the first Coronation to be broadcast on the wireless. At the end of that day the new King George VI broadcast a message to his 700 million subjects throughout the world.
“If, in the coming years, I can show my gratitude in service to you, that is the way above all other that I should choose.” Together, he and Queen Elizabeth brought stability back to the British monarchy.
Scarcely had the King been crowned than the first threat of war began. In May 1939 the King and Queen paid a highly successful State Visit to America and Canada, which is said to have resulted in their support for England during World War II. In September 1939 the King broadcast to the nation to inspire unity in the British people. No-one who heard his Christmas message that year will ever forget his quotation from The Gate of the Year by Minnie Haskins, from which so many gained comfort: “Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God. That shall be to you better than a light and safer than a known way.”
The King was one of the first people in England to receive a gas mask and he made sure that his family was subjected to the same rationing as everyone else. Throughout the war, when the collars and cuffs on his shirts became worn, they were repaired with material from the shirt tails. Thirty acres of Windsor Park were ploughed up to grow crops and a five-inch line was painted around the baths to indicate the level of water allowed.
The King and Queen remained in London during the week, despite the dangers. When it was suggested that Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret Rose should be sent to Canada for safety, the Queen replied, “The Princesses could not go without me; I could not leave without the King, and, of course, the King will never leave.”
The King and Queen visited many of the bombed areas to offer comfort and support, travelling over 52,000 miles in a bullet-proof train. When Coventry was bombed on the night of 14 December, 1940, King George VI visited the desecrated city within hours. That same year Buckingham Palace had been hit twice, with one bomb completely destroying the private chapel. The Queen was in the process of taking an eyelash out of the King’s eye when a bomb landed.
“Had the windows been closed instead of open, the whole of the glass would have splintered into the faces of the King and Queen, causing terrible injuries,” Winston Churchill wrote, adding that they kept the seriousness of it to themselves. That same afternoon they visited those who had been bombed in the East End of London.
To reward acts of heroism, the King instituted the George Cross – the highest civil award for gallantry which ranks alongside the Victoria Cross. In 1943 he paid a two-week visit to Allied troops in North Africa, flying to Algiers under the pseudonym “General Lyon”. At his own request the war-torn island of Malta was awarded the George Cross. Churchill wrote that the war drew “the Throne and the People more closely together than was ever recorded”.
On VE Day in May 1945, Buckingham Palace became the focal point of celebrations as thousands of people gathered outside chanting “We want the King!” The fact that the Royal Family had not fled from the bombing, had suffered their own
losses during the war (including the death of the King’s younger brother, the Duke of Kent) and had been subjected to the same risks and deprivations as everyone else had a unifying effect.
A very relieved King appeared eight times on the balcony of Buckingham Palace to acknowledge the cheers of the crowds packed into the Mall.
The British people had taken
George VI to their hearts and felt that, by a curious twist of fate, the abdication had given them a much better monarch. He was a devoted family man with a deep religious conviction, and one who had always shown great strength in adversity. Those who knew him admired his gentle nature, wry sense of humour and innocent charm.
Meeting President Truman for the first time in 1945, the King asked for the President’s autograph “for my wife and daughters”. He was thrilled to meet the cast of his favourite wireless programme It’s That Man Again, and after grand balls at Buckingham Palace he invariably led guests in a Conga line up and down the corridors.
Although he resumed a full diary of official engagements once peace had returned, his sudden accession and the years of war had clearly taken their toll on his health. In 1947 he made a highly successful visit to South Africa with the Queen and the Princesses, but returned to England looking physically exhausted, having lost 17 pounds in weight.
He proudly attended the wedding of his daughter, Princess Elizabeth, to Prince Philip of Greece that
November, and in April 1948 took part in a national day of celebration to mark his silver wedding anniversary, but he had begun to suffer from severe leg cramps as a result of arteriosclerosis.
In March 1949 the King underwent surgery to prevent blood clots. Heavy smoking was considered to be a contributory factor to his condition. Although he appeared to recover, the symptoms later reappeared.
On 3 May, 1951, the King opened the Festival of Britain on the south bank of the River Thames. He looked pale and drawn – the first public indication that all was not well. He began to wear make-up at evening functions to hide his pallid complexion. Eventually, a leading chest surgeon, Clement Price Thomas, examined the King and made a firm diagnosis that it was lung cancer.
The true nature of the disease was kept from the King and he was told simply that there was a blockage in his left lung which would necessitate its removal. The operation was carried out on 23 September at Buckingham Palace. During surgery some of the nerves of the larynx also had to be removed and there was a danger that he might only ever speak again in a faint whisper.
Two months later the King was photographed for the first time after his operation, looking much fitter, at Prince Charles’s third birthday party. On 2 December, 1951, a day of National Thanksgiving was celebrated to mark the King’s recovery. The
Royal Family spent a quiet Christmas at Sandringham, the King having recorded his traditional Christmas Day message in advance.
To avoid the stress of a live broadcast, and because of speech difficulties, it was recorded in short sections. He was in high spirits and looked forward to revisiting South Africa in March 1952, confident that the warm sun would speed his recuperation.
On returning to London in the New Year, King George was given a thorough medical examination and was pronounced fit enough to wave Princess Elizabeth off at London Airport as she boarded the BOAC Argonaut airliner Atalanta that was to take her to Kenya on the first stage of a royal tour to Australia and New Zealand.
On 31 January, the King stood in the bitter cold with Queen Elizabeth, Princess Margaret and the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester to wave what turned out to be a final farewell to his elder daughter.
The King returned to Sandringham, and on 5 February, 1952, felt strong enough to participate in “Keepers’ Day”, the end-of-season hare shoot, and retired to bed that night weary but happy. In the early hours of the next morning, King George VI passed peacefully away in his sleep.
“During these last months the King walked with death,” Winston Churchill told Parliament, “as if death were a companion, an acquaintance, whom he recognised and did not fear. In the end death came as a friend.”
At the funeral in St George’s Chapel, Windsor, Churchill’s wreath stood out from all the others. In the shape of the George Cross, it bore the simple inscription: “For Gallantry”.
The nation mourned not just the passing of a King, but a man who symbolised all that England had come to expect from its monarch – courage in the face of adversity and duty before self-interest. Qualities that his daughter would come to emulate.