Scandals

 Scandals abound all over the world and have done so since the first printing press became available to the masses, or at least to those who could read. The current celebrity scandals appeal to the most salacious gossips, with sex tapes, divorces, rapes and all manner of like prurient interests to such an extent that they have become ordinary. Likewise, on the other coast, every once in a while, a congressman or senator will be exposed as a skirt chaser and the country will again be shocked and appalled at the lecherous and lewd behavior of one who is supposedly the role model for his constituents. And a politician sleeping with a spy is not limited to this country. The Profumo scandal of the early 60’s made its way around the world. But really, there is no scandal like a royal scandal to whet the voyeuristic imagination. Ah, the whispers, the rumors, the innuendos, the ‘dare I say it out loud’ tidbits. While Prince Albert, Queen Victoria’s son, was undoubtedly among the first to promulgate such scandalous misbehavior, it wasn’t until King Edward VIII came along, who really gave the world something to talk about. 

By all accounts, the soon to be King Edward VIII, the playboy prince, thoroughly enjoyed the privileges of his princely station. He was handsome, possessed of a serious “trouser snake” and enjoyed the charms of many a lady, single or married; married was even better, less entanglements. Unfortunately, he did not relish the idea of becoming king with all the duties that the role involved and was, in short, as shallow as a saucer. He found his royal duties quite boring and, most alarming for parliament, more often than not, ignored them. A year after his ascension, parliament was pulling its hair out. He felt the same. Wallis Simpson, twice divorced and an American, was the perfect antidote to his regal miasma. In desperation to remove himself from the royal throne, he declared that he could not rule without his love, Wallis, by his side and would not rule without her as his wife and queen. 

Winston Churchill came to his defense: “Why shouldn’t the king be allowed to marry his cutie.” While Noel Coward argued in opposition: “because England doesn’t wish for a Queen cutie.”

As is generally the case, there is a woman behind the man. The woman in question was Elizabeth, soon and forever to become the beloved Queen Mum. She was married to George, Edward’s younger brother. She realized that if Edward abdicated, George would be king and she was most unhappy about that outcome. She was very protective of her beloved husband. He was not in the best of health, he was shy, he stuttered, he had not been prepared for the role that was about to be foisted upon him. Their, and their daughters’, lives would forever be changed. And she was ticked off. No shy retiring English rose was she; she made clear that it was not advisable to incur the wrath of her prickly thorns. She turned to the Archbishop and the Prime Minister demanding a severe outcome if Edward abdicated. 

So, when Edward declared that he must wed his American twice divorced cutie, and step down from the role of King, Elizabeth pulled the royal strings taut. While Edward thought he would step down, then continue partying in his usual fashion with his cutie wife and anyone else who might discreetly catch his fancy, his younger brother King George, and his wife, had other ideas. The new King made it very clear that if Edward wished to continue to receive his very substantial allowance, it would not happen in merry old England. He must leave the country forthwith and not return unless and until invited to do so. Rut-row. (Elizabeth’s Cheshire smile could almost be seen throughout the entire British empire.) Ouch. Edward could not give up his allowance; how would he live in the manner to which he was so accustomed? There was nothing for it, so off to Paris he and his cutie wife went. 

And they lived the good party life in la belle Paree, that is, until they didn’t. The war came along and spoiled everything. There they were, with the Nazis about to march into Paris. “I say, Pardon me”, as he stood on the shores of Calais, waving to his English relatives. “What about me? Please, may I come home. They are bombing the country around here.” This war was inconvenient but ultimately, he thought, this could work out well for them. After all, once home, it would be awkward for the Crown to toss them back out again. Or so he thought. But wait, the Queen (she who must be obeyed) had other plans. She was determined that they would not step foot on English soil, ever! Instead, he was made Governor of the Bahamas and they spent the rest of the war on the islands, without air conditioning. 

After the war, he and his cutie returned to Paris where they lived for the rest of their lives. He was returned to England only after his death, as was Wallis, laid to rest beside him. 

There were certain, albeit minor, parallels between Edward and Wallis’ royal scandal and Charles and Camilla’s royal scandal but the latter paled in comparison to the former. What’s a tampon amongst friends. As the young are fond of saying: “TMI”.