In the opening paragraph of the epilogue to Queen Elizabeth, The Queen Mother, William Shawcross writes: “Elizabeth Bowes Lyon might reasonably have expected to live a pleasant and relatively privileged but inconspicuous life, marrying into a family like her own, raising children, supporting her husband, her community and her charitable causes, and ending her days quietly, rich in good works and grandchildren. Instead, fate dealt her an extraordinary hand. This book has attempted to show what she made of it, to discern the qualities which enabled this young Scottish aristocrat, who surprised herself by marrying into the Royal Family, play such a central role, as wife and mother, as grandmother and great grandmother, in the life of the nation.”
With one change of tense, this could easily have opened the book on page one, rather than being at the head of page 939. In the paragraph, the author summarizes his entire book by highlighting Elisabeth Bowes Lyon’s privileged background, the fact that fate delivered her to royal status and that the author’s focus would always be on what she made of the role. I hesitate to call it a job, because it was never advertised as such. As someone who would not normally sympathize with such royal roles, perhaps I might be expected to review William Shawcross’s biography with criticism uppermost, but on the contrary I will start by praising it and encourage people to read it. The book is certainly a massive achievement, and an entertaining and informative one as well.
Elisabeth Bowes Lyon married Prince Bertie, the second son of Britain’s monarch, George V. At the time, he was second in line to the throne after his elder brother, David, who, on his father’s death, became King Edward VIII. When he was forced to abdicate his kingship, his brother and his wife, then the Duke and Duchess of York, became King George VI and Queen Elizabeth. Some are born to greatness, some have greatness thrust upon them. Some are born to privilege, and some of them are raised to royalty.
William Shawcross in this official biography could have written the kind of fawning celebrity piece that might become attached via sycophancy to any celebrity. Instead, the author catalogues events, gives potted biographies of important associates, describes in detail the pursuits that his subject enjoyed, and thus provides a credible, sensitive and yet frank description of Elisabeth Bowes Lyon, Queen Elizabeth. He also describes much of her clothing and outfits in considerable detail and, along the way, offers a view of a century of history which is generally both informed, balanced and, at times, revealing. On many levels, then, this is thoroughly absorbing read. Details of the life lived by Elisabeth are for the reader of the book. What I will concentrate on are a few reflections on aspects of the text, things that might say more about me than the book.
The relationship between the British royal family and the press in recent years has not been without his difficulties. As international celebrities, the royals cannot do without the media coverage and, like all celebrities, would like to control what is written about them. It was, after all, while being pursued by photographers on motorbikes that the car carrying Princess Diana crashed. Indeed, some years after her death, the way that the Diana herself tried to create the kind of press coverage she wanted was scrutinized.
On page 525 in Queen Elizabeth, William Shawcross writes: “At one communal feeding centre, there was a moment, noted Woolton, at which ‘a very dirty child’ in its mother’s arms, grabbed at the queen’s pearls. A photographer ran around trying to get a picture, but she had just moved away. Woolton, standing behind the queen, murmured to her, “Your Majesty, you’ve broken a press man’s heart.’ ‘Without showing the slightest sign that she had heard,’ Woolton recorded, 'she moved back into position for the baby again to play with her pearls, and so that the press man could take his photograph. The incident was, in fact, the only thing recorded in the press!’”
This was war time. This was a visit to a poor and bombed area of London. If Princess Diana had done a similar thing fifty years later, it might have been received with cynicism by at least some sections of the media. But the scene described involving Queen Elizabeth was in wartime. The royal family had opted to stay in London, while it was being bombed and, in her own privileged terms, this was a sacrifice that queens were not required to make. But she and her husband did it. In the propaganda of wartime, the gesture described was as close to solidarity as a queen could get
Not all of her visits or responsibilities proved enjoyable. On pages 337-8, William Shawcross describes her reaction after a recent visit to the northern industrial city of Sheffield, famous for its steel making: “Her private account of her visit to the city, in a letter to Osbert Sitwell, was exuberant. She declared ‘It took me three baths and three days to become clean after my two days in Sheffield – never have I been so dirty. Smoke, steel filings, oil & cold dust all gathered to cast a dusky hue over my person, & five hours on end with the charming and very Labour Lord Mayor completed my rout.’” It seems that not only the dirt annoyed her, but also having to cavort around the town with a labour politician.
The royals’ explicit sympathy with the Conservative Party, and the associated revulsion with anything associated with socialism, is a recurring thread in the biography. There is no doubt about the royals’ political preferences, and it has stayed unchanged to this day. When the current Prince of Wales and Catherine Middleton were married, no Labour politician, past or present, was invited. For me, personally, this indicates that the royal family rules only me part of the United Kingdom, that part which is ‘true blue’. The fact that this is rarely made explicit is regarded by some as a strength. I beg to disagree.
But, I hear you say, they are popular! People come and see them, wave flags at them. This was the general experience of Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother, who attracted cheering crowds everywhere she went. William Shawcross describes these events throughout the book, and their number is indeed astonishing. But I would contend that this public relation success is only ever guaranteed by the royals as symbols. If that symbolism ever were to become individual reality with all the associated complications of personality and political views, then enthusiasm would wane.
The book presented me with a glaring error of authorial judgment just once. In one paragraph, William Shawcross tries to sum up changes in education policy in the 1960s that led to the abolition of England and Wales’s selective education system. The author bemoans the establishment of schools that addressed the needs of the whole population by claiming that such a policy towards selection harmed the aspirations of working-class children. Perhaps a class in statistics would help. Indeed, the royal family mice have agreed with this assessment. On page 761, William Shawcross, quotes and opinion of Prince Philippe, Duke of Edinburgh: “He criticized not only the collectivist mentality in Britain, but, even more fiercely, the myths of Marxism – above all for its dismissal of the voluntary and altruistic elements in human nature. A few years later, he was bolder still, and was quoted as saying that the monarchy had helped Britain ‘to get over… the development of an urban industrial intelligencia reasonably easily.’” One wonders whether the Duke wanted to maintain the idea of a forelock-touching, obedient peasant.
Criticism apart, Queen Elizabeth is a thoroughly engaging read. It paints what I am sure is an accurate picture of a life in the public eye and goes some way towards explaining what are the responsibilities and pressures of royal family status. It is certainly an achievement and throughout its thousand or so pages, I was never tempted to set it down.