Devotees of the Netflix series “The Crown” are likely to take it for granted that King Edward VIII faced a stark choice in 1936: He could marry his American sweetheart and renounce the throne or he could renounce Wallis Simpson and remain in power. But in “Crown in Crisis,” British historian Alexander Larman— relying on recently uncovered memoirs and archival material — argues that the situation was not so clear cut. There were those at the time who believed that the King could have his cake and eat it too — i.e., that he could wed the twice-divorced Simpson and retain the crown. One of those people was a then out-of-favor politician named Winston Churchill.
Larman paints an unflattering portrait of Edward (known to his friends as David). Edward seems to have combined the worst qualities of today’s Prince Andrew and Prince Harry. While naturally intelligent, Edward was a playboy who had no intellectual curiosity. He considered his royal upbringing a burden and had no interest in performing the duties expected of the royal family. Edward’s father, King George V, confided to his close friends that he worried about the future of the monarchy once Edward succeeded him. Although Edward was popular with the general population — the people saw him as a free spirit who empathized with the man in the street — those in Edward’s inner circle saw him as rude, thoughtless, and selfish.
One of the book’s revelations is Larman’s account of an assassination attempt on Edward shortly after he assumed the throne. Larman suggests that the assassin was acting as an agent of the Italian government, although he never explains why eliminating the king would have worked to Italy’s advantage. More interestingly, Larman intimates that British intelligence at least knew of and perhaps encouraged the attempt on Edward’s life. Larman speculates that MI5 was concerned about Edward’s cozy attitude toward Naziism in general and Adolph Hitler in particular. The book devotes several pages to Hitler’s appointment of Joachim von Ribbentrop as ambassador to Britain because of his claimed friendliness to the king — a friendship that, Hitler hoped, would lead the King to look the other way when Germany began annexing territory.
Larman’s portrayal of Wallis Simpson, in contrast, is surprisingly sympathetic. Like many others who have written about this romance, Larman is puzzled by Edward’s obsession with her. While beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, Simpson was not by any objective measure a “looker.” Edward’s infatuation with Wallis reminds me of the old Jimmy Soul song: “If you want to be happy for the rest of your life, never make a pretty woman your wife.” So, it must have been her personality, right? While a few of the persons who knew Wallis described her as bright and/or charming, most seemed to find her aloof and abrasive. Larman speculates that Edward was into S&M and latched onto Simpson as his dominatrix; one cannot help wondering, however, why Edward could not have found someone more acceptable to the British establishment to crack the whip.
Edward’s relationship with Wallis was one of the best kept secrets in England. This is somewhat surprising because, by and large, they made no effort to conceal their dalliance. Everyone in government and everyone in high society knew what was happening. But word of the relationship was not generally known by the public. Applying what was apparently the honor code of the day, the British press was essentially silent about the affair. This silence was curious insofar as the American press was having a field day with the scandal. Reports of the relationship filtered to those in Britain who had American connections, but not from the British press itself.
Wallis was the object of scorn among the British population, which held her accountable for stealing their king. But Larman makes it clear that it was Edward, not Wallis, who insisted on continuing the relationship. Wallis befriended Edward years before he became king. She was looking for a fling with a royal who would take her to fancy parties and shower her with gifts, not another marriage. When it became clear that Edward would lose the throne if they stayed together, Wallis did everything she could to terminate the relationship. While Edward repeatedly told those who urged him to dump Walis that he could not live without her, Simpson made no such statements about him. Events moved quickly. Edward decided on his own — against all advice — to abdicate, and Wallis felt trapped.
Virtually everyone who was involved in this drama urged Edward to send Wallis packing and remain on the throne. Larman provides an almost day by day account of their importuning — which perhaps explains why the book is subtitled “Countdown to Abdication.” Those in Edward’s inner circle simply could not comprehend why he would relinquish the crown for ANY woman, much less for THIS woman. Those feelings are entirely understandable. Although we like to think of ourselves as romantics, let’s be honest. Who among us would trade Buckingham Palace, Windsor Castle, and Balmoral for the affections of a sharp-tongued tart? Edward’s mother, Queen Mary, was totally unsympathetic. His brother, Prince Albert (later King George VI), was petrified at the prospect of becoming king — although those fears later proved unfounded. But Edward repeatedly said that his determination to wed Wallis was non-negotiable.
Larman argues that, once it became clear that Edward intended to marry Wallis, the two of them became pawns in a political struggle. On one side were British Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin and Archbishop of Canterbury Cosmo Lang. Baldwin was a largely ineffectual but high minded politician who disliked Edward personally, found him a dullard, and believed that Britain would be better off without him. The Archbishop found Edward morally repugnant. Together, they led the charge of those who urged Edward to abdicate.
On the other side of the debate were some prominent newspaper publishers — led by Lord Beaverbrook — and a handful of politicians, including Churchill. They maintained that the King could wed Wallis and retain the crown; as Churchill famously put it, “Let the King have his cutie.” They believed that the King’s popularity would cause the public eventually to accept Edward’s marriage to Simpson. If the already unpopular Baldwin opposed the marriage, they assumed, the government would collapse. A new party — “the King’s Party” — would assume power. That party would be led by Churchill.
Anticipating Parliamentary resistance to the king marrying an American divorcee, Beaverbrook and Churchill developed a backup position. Instead of a conventional marriage, Edward and Wallis would enter into a “morganatic marriage.” Under this arrangement, Wallis would never become queen and any children from their marriage would not succeed to the throne. While the proposal was clever, neither Edward and Wallis nor Parliament ever warmed to it.
About a third of the book is devoted to the frantic days in December of 1936 during which Edward finally decided to abdicate. Even though Edward had made up his mind, there were a couple of complications. First, Wallis’ divorce from her second husband had not yet become final. This was not a mere technicality because there was evidence that the preliminary divorce decree had been obtained by fraud. Mr. Simpson did not contest the divorce, and no evidence of Wallis’ transgressions was introduced. There were suspicions that Mr. Simpson received some sort of quid pro quo for his cooperation.
Second, the soon to be ex-king needed to find a way to finance his post-abdication lifestyle. This appears to have been an issue that Edward had not considered until he was on the verge of leaving the country. Edward’s father had left less to him than to his brothers. Once he left the throne, Edward could not, of course, avail himself of property belonging to the Crown, and he was not independently wealthy. Although Edward had expected that Parliament would award him a handsome pension, the members were reluctant to reward him for abandoning his duties. In the end, the new king agreed to provide Edward from his own funds an annual allowance of roughly a million dollars in today’s money.
The book’s most serious flaw is Larman’s failure to discuss the legal underpinnings of the drama that he describes in such detail. Was there, for example, a constitutional provision or law that automatically disqualified Edward from retaining the crown if he married a divorcee? If not, could Parliament force Edward from the Throne (and, if so, how)? What would happen if Parliament voted Edward out of office and he refused to leave? Could Parliament, in essence, impeach the King? Was this drama not so much a legal crisis as it was a religious crisis? Stated otherwise, was the problem that Edward could not remain head of the Church of England after marrying a divorced woman because the Church disfavored divorce? Could Edward have remained head of state while relinquishing his duties as head of the church? Or was this really all a public relations problem? Viewed differently, was it embarrassing for the empire to have as its king a man married to a twice divorced American commoner— particularly one who was still married when Edward took up with her? Perhaps it matters to me only because I am a lawyer, but none of these issues are addressed in the book.
In the end, Larman provides an interesting, albeit overly-detailed, account of the brief reign of Edward VIII. He succeeded his father in January of 1936 and did not last the year. One can only wonder what might have transpired if Edward had remained on the throne in the tumultuous years leading to the outbreak of the Second World War. But it is difficult to imagine that Edward would have served his country any better than his brother and successor, George VI, did.
Richard G. Stuhan