A Brief History of the Private Life of Elizabeth II (12 page)

The Archbishop of Canterbury, who officiated, stated in his address that the service ‘is in all its essentials the same as it would be for any cottager who might be married this afternoon
in some small country church’, and that is how it was seen by many. The Royal Family, as maintained by George VI, was the middle class writ large. This was a family event on a national
scale.

The bride showed impeccable poise. Her father later wrote of escorting her to the altar: ‘You were so calm and composed
during the Service & said your words with
such conviction, that I knew everything was all right.’ Elizabeth, of course, already knew more than most about solemn public declarations.

When the service ended, the guests returned to Buckingham Palace for the wedding breakfast. It comprised four courses, one of which was partridge from the Sandringham estate.

The couple went to Broadlands, the Hampshire country house of Lord Mountbatten, for the first days of their honeymoon (as Charles and Diana would later do). Travelling by carriage down Whitehall
through the crowds to Waterloo Station – in an open carriage to allow people a good view, despite the bitter cold – there was sudden movement beneath the rug on their knees, and there
appeared the head of Susan, the Princess’s pet corgi. She had been smuggled along.

Such was the King’s devotion to his daughter that she received a letter from him while at Broadlands and, when travelling through London to Scotland a few days later, she visited him at
the Palace. While subsequent generations of royals have, on their honeymoons, been able to use
Britannia
, the Princess and the Duke went to Balmoral. However much their wedding had lifted
the spirits of a country in the throes of austerity, their honeymoon was surely appropriate to the gloom of that time. November is arguably the dreariest month in the British calendar and, set
between the foliage of autumn and the snows of Christmas, even a place so loved by the Princess might have seemed uninspiring.

This was the beginning of a marriage that has been extremely happy – a marriage of sympathetic companionship and mutual support in circumstances that would break most relationships. It was
to cost Philip the naval career that he loved and was good at. Although he had the opportunity for a few years to live a normal life, he had to give it up, first gradually and then with awful
suddenness, when his wife became Queen. He is a practical man, devoid of introspection, and that was just what the situation would need. He was to prove, in any case, equally
successful in his new role. Not for nothing would Her Majesty describe him, decades later, as ‘my rock’.

Despite their mutual devotion they were never to be demonstrative in public. Unlike American presidents, or British prime ministers before the advent of Blair, they would never hold hands, put
their arms around each other, or be seen to kiss affectionately. That is their way, and it adds greatly to their dignity. A few years after their marriage Michael Parker, the Duke’s Equerry,
attempted to coax from him some spontaneity with regard to his wife, but in vain. Philip may not have had the Princess’s sense of quiet reticence, but he has never believed in being emotional
in public. As a naval officer he would have had views about appropriate – and inappropriate – behaviour while on duty. Elizabeth, too, has regarded herself as bound by the dignity of
her position. Her parents, despite overwhelming mutual devotion, had never been given to such display. Royals believed that affection was a matter that could wait until they were out of sight.

Returning to London the young couple, in common with many people of their age in a country beset by a serious housing-shortage, moved in with their parents. They occupied the same suite of rooms
at Buckingham Palace that the Princess had lived in when single and, by royal standards, this meant that they were somewhat cramped. They were supposed to reside at Clarence House in the Mall, one
of several royal residences in the neighbourhood, but the building was so dilapidated that it required lengthy renovation, and brought public criticism for the £55,000 cost of this. There
were so many work stoppages by the labourers involved that the King personally ordered them to ‘stop taking so damned many tea-breaks’. Whether they followed this instruction is not
known, but the house was still not ready when the couple began their family.

They did not move into Clarence House until the summer of 1949. They took great pleasure in planning the decor and installing the furniture and, like most young couples, they
enjoyed the feeling that they had a home of their own. There was noisy public criticism regarding the lavishness of the interiors, which involved panelling in exotic woods, but in fact
virtually all of these had been given by dominion governments or municipalities. The Duke’s study, fitted with Canadian maple, was a wedding present. The Princess’s bedroom was a gift
from Glasgow.

The King had given them a country house at which to spend weekends. It was Sunningdale Park (a rebuilt version of this was to be bestowed on Prince Andrew at his wedding), near Windsor. Before
they could occupy it, however, the house was destroyed by fire – perhaps the result of squatters. A replacement had quickly to be found and this was Windlesham Moor, a lavishly appointed
house set in 50 acres of landscaped grounds not far from Ascot. It was described by the Princess’s mother as ‘more palatial than a palace’ and was rented rather than bought. It
was so big that its occupants could easily have got lost in either the house or the grounds. While it promised them all the privacy they could hope for, it was ironic that Elizabeth faced the
prospect of spending time there alone. Her husband, still a serving naval officer, was soon to be posted overseas.

In the meantime, their first child was born. ‘It’s a boy!’ announced the policeman on duty in the Palace forecourt, on 14 November 1948, to the crowd that had waited hours for
news. Charles Philip Arthur George was born inside and, like his mother, by Caesarean section. Many people both within and without the family had expected a girl, given the preponderance of female
children on both sides (Philip had four older sisters) and the public was delighted that the question of succession had been settled at once – had it been a girl, they might have had to wait
years to see if a brother would follow. The Princess was an indulgent mother and she had, at that stage in her life, time to devote to her son. They would soon be separated.

Charles’s birth was the first occasion on which such an event had taken place without the presence of the Home Secretary, a tradition that went back to 1688. The latest
arrival was 82 years younger than the family’s oldest member, and Queen Mary thus became a great-grandmother at a time when this was still unusual. Yet while the dowager queen still showed
indomitable fitness, her son the King was failing. In 1949 he was only just well enough to appear at his birthday parade, and even then he was not mounted but in a carriage. He had been diagnosed
with something called Buerger’s disease, a condition that affects the arteries, and he also had bronchial carcinoma. There was considerable anxiety about his long-term, as well as short-term,
health.

Philip had been working at the Admiralty and then at the Naval Staff College at Greenwich, appointments that kept him usefully within London. Indeed when at the Admiralty he lived no more than
10 minutes’ walk from his desk and – amazingly, in view of the security that is necessary now – he travelled there alone and on foot. He could be seen leaving the Palace at
half-past eight in the mornings to walk down the Mall, and the Princess could sometimes be glimpsed in late afternoon, looking out for his return from an upstairs window. He needed experience at
sea, however, for career progress, and in 1949 he was sent to Malta to join the Mediterranean Fleet. His uncle, Lord Mountbatten, was there as commander of a cruiser squadron. The King was not
happy about this posting for he knew Elizabeth would want to go too, and allowed her only on condition that she made regular returns to Britain. This was not merely a matter of sentiment – he
was as reluctant as ever to part with her – but of duty. He needed his daughter to be able to deputise for him. His health had not recovered from the war (a chain-smoker, he was found to have
lung cancer) but she was told only after Charles’s birth how frail it was – and he was finding it harder to meet the physical demands of his role. On occasions that required the
physical stamina
to sit or stand for long periods, he was increasingly unable to cope. His daughter also had duties of her own. In the months and years after her wedding, she
and Philip made tours of the United Kingdom so that her future peoples could see her, and her husband, at close quarters.

Nevertheless Elizabeth joined her husband. Charles stayed in London, and was looked after by his grandparents. The climate was considered unsuitable for a child of his years, and her own sense
of duty dictated that she be with Philip. She had, after all, been left at home by her own parents at about the same age, and she was not going away for more than months at a time. She arrived in
Valetta with 40 cases of clothing, her car and a polo pony. This game was a passion among servicemen on the island and Philip, who had already proved an extremely sound cricketer, was in the
process of learning it.

The couple remained in Malta, on and off, between 1949 and 1951. Despite interruptions and increasing worry over the King’s health, it was to be a golden interlude in their lives, a period
upon which they would look back with warm nostalgia. As well as the pleasure of serving at sea, Philip was able to feel relatively free from the strait-jacket of Court life, and Elizabeth could
experience the nearest thing she would ever know to normal existence. Their surroundings were glorious and the pace of life agreeably slow, with much time given to polo and other sporting events.
Philip was given his own ship, HMS
Magpie.
Command was the ambition of every naval officer, and he lost no time in putting on the vessel and its crew the stamp of his personality. Like his
uncle he had a passion for winning trophies, showing off and being the best at everything. He drove his men in competition but took part himself, pulling an oar in the races that won
Magpie
the title Cock of the Flotilla.

‘The Med’ was not a Cold War flashpoint and Britain’s problems in the region – Suez and Cyprus – were several years off. The Navy could devote time to fostering
international
goodwill, and its royal officer and his wife were ideal for this.
Magpie
made a number of leisurely official visits to Heads of State in the region. Between
calls there were cocktail parties, receptions, picnics and swimming. Small wonder that
Magpie
was known in the Navy as ‘Edinburgh’s private yacht’. This would, in normal
circumstances, have been the first of many commands in a career alternating between sea and shore duty. Philip was not to know that it would be the height of his active service, and the only vessel
he ever commanded.

Elizabeth was in some respects able to live as an officer’s wife, but this must not be overstated. She was scarcely more a ‘normal’ wife than she had been a normal officer in
the ATS. As with so many things, she could experience it only partially, fleetingly, under strictly controlled and largely artificial conditions. Although she enjoyed expeditions to shops and
markets and the hairdresser, to dances and swimming-parties and even to sit in the back row of the cinema, she was not in any sense anonymous. She was not in a foreign country – Malta was, at
the time, as British as any other colony – and she was thus the daughter of the ruler. She was living not in Married Quarters but, initially at least, in the villa of her husband’s
uncle. Unlike other wives she had a dresser and a footman, was followed everywhere by a detective, and had always to be addressed as ‘Ma’am’. She carried out some low-key official
duties, visiting servicemens’ clubs or giving out trophies. She also had to commute home on a regular basis. She was required to deputise for the King in receiving visits from the French
President and the kings of Denmark and Norway. She travelled by air between Britain and the Mediterranean to save time.

She was, in fact, never able to settle down in Malta. In the midst of Philip’s posting – on 15 August 1950 – her second child Princess Anne was born, in England. The Princess
was therefore at home for several months, and her husband for several weeks. When she eventually rejoined him, there were pointed comments in the press about her neglect of her children.

Philip, despite his commitments, was inevitably drawn into public life too. The couple had already made an official visit to Paris, and now they were asked to undertake a
tour of Canada and the USA in October 1951. The King and Queen had intended going – this would have been their first postwar visit to North America – but had abruptly had to cancel when
the King’s health once again took a turn for the worse. There was now not time for the young couple to make the journey by sea, and Philip suggested they fly instead. This was a novel
suggestion, characteristic of his practicality and impatience with restrictive traditional practice. Transatlantic flight was lengthy and uncomfortable (it included a refuelling stop) and fears for
the safety of the Royal Family meant that the Prime Minister had to give permission for the flight. He was persuaded, and they became the first royals to make this journey. Such was the worry about
the King’s health that Elizabeth’s Private Secretary carried with him a sealed envelope to be opened in the event of his death. It contained an address to both houses of Parliament.

They spent a month in Canada and the USA. They had planned for this journey with a thoroughness that was to become habitual, devoting long hours to reading and discussion, building a detailed
knowledge of even the smallest places they would visit. As an attractive young couple who had not been seen before by the people of the Dominion they were popular, though Philip was to cause some
offence by referring to Canada, in a speech, as ‘a good investment’. He was pictured square-dancing in western clothes while she wore a print skirt (these had had to be swiftly bought
by their staff on the day of the dance. Philip’s jeans were later found to have the price tag still on them), which was a thing no royals had previously done. They passed on to the USA where
they stayed at Blair House (the White House was being renovated) as guests of the Trumans. The President was very taken with them, sending the King a message afterwards that: ‘They went
to the hearts of all the citizens. As one father to another,’ he went on, ‘you can be very proud.’ Despite the goodwill they generated, Philip’s
irascibility was in evidence. Irritated by the noise of Secret Service agents patrolling the corridors at night, he said to their chief: ‘Tell me, do you employ professional door-slammers in
this building?’