All at Sea: Edward and Mrs Simpson
Did the exquisite romance of the Croatian coastline nudge the 20th century’s most glamorous monarch into giving up his throne for love?
The year was 1936. The United Kingdom was in optimistic mood. Storm clouds might be gathering in Europe, but the ‘blessed isles’ were looking forward to the coronation of their new king, Edward VIII. His father George V, who had died in late January, had been an astute, conscientious king. But Edward was something altogether different: charismatic and fun-loving, he had been a popular Prince of Wales, exhibiting a thoroughly modern outlook that suited the younger generation.
But that summer, after a luxurious cruise along the Dalmatian Coast, plans for the coronation were abandoned. Edward VIII abdicated, causing one of the biggest scandals of the 20th century. What led to his decision? A visit to the resorts and islands he saw on his trip - heart-melting Dubrovnik and vineyard-spined Korcula island, where he hung out at the hottest spots and most celebrated restaurants - offer plenty of clues, as well as a blueprint for a 21st-century holiday dripping with golden-age glamour.
The secret relationship
Edward, known to his family as David, was a handsome, nonchalant charmer. As the Prince of Wales, he’d partied across Europe and the United States. The song I’ve danced with a man, who’s danced with a girl, who’s danced with the Prince of Wales had been written about him. He’d set near-revolutionary fashion trends for patterned ties, relaxed
tartan and tweed suits - even brogues ‘in town’. He’d gone surfing in Hawaii, and fallen into an affair with Gloria Vanderbilt’s aunt. The contrast to his stern, traditional father couldn’t have been greater.
When he inherited the throne in January 1936, Edward VIII was unmarried - but unbeknown to the British public he was not unattached. His current flame was Wallis Simpson, an American socialite. Bright and opinionated, she was a Dior and Cartier devotee - “You can never be too rich or too thin” was her stated mantra. She was also twice married, and still living with her second husband Ernest, a moustachioed shipbroker and ex Coldstream Guard. This made Wallis entirely unsuitable as a Royal escort since the King was head of the Church of England, which didn’t then accept second marriages, never mind third. Yet deferential newspapers proprietors made sure their relationship was kept out of print, so it continued without censure.
The best laid plans…
The King’s grand scheme for the Summer of ‘36 was to abandon it entirely to pleasure and Wallis’ company on a sumptuous holiday. With the Spanish Civil War raging, his private villa on the ultra-fashionable Côte d’Azur was judged to be unsafe. So the idea of a cruise was hit upon.
The Royal yacht held strong implications of duty as it was funded by the British public. And the King had no intention of getting bogged down by affairs of state. Solution: he chartered the Nahlin, a sleek 300ft steam yacht with eight en-suite state rooms and a staff of 50-plus. To bring it up to date, he installed a
Main seascape photo and on Home page: Cynthia Andres, Unsplash.
Above: a premature souvenir of King Edward VIII’s coronation, from Ethel Bailey’s postcard collection.
Below: Wallis Simpson in 1936. Rab Island and Sibinek harbour in the mid 1930s, both Leo Wehrli, Wikimedia Commons. The Nahlin in the early 1930s
deck pool plus an extensive cocktail bar. Then he compiled a guest list that included the decadent Louis and Edwina Mountbatten, Conservative MP Alfred Duff Cooper and his socialite wife Diana (who later gossiped, rather outrageously, about the holiday), Peregrine ‘Perry’ Cust aka the 6th Baron Brownlow and his wife Katherine, American-born society hostess Lady Emerald Cunard who always addressed the King as “Majesty Divine” and Lord Sefton, who owned Aintree Racecourse - but most decidedly did not include Wallis' shipbroker husband.
One foreign newspaper referred slyly to the most favoured guest as “a divorced American woman from Baltimore“. Most went much further, and were on the case of ‘Edward and Mrs Simpson’s holiday’ from the day the cruise was announced. The British press, however, reported only that the King was to take an extended break with friends.
The cruise - and nudism - begins
As a result of European newspaper stories, thousands of people gathered on 10 August 1936 to watch the glitzy, ‘star-crossed’ lovers swan up the Nahlin's gang plank. The yacht was docked in the cobbled port of Sibenik in what was then Yugoslavia and is now Croatia. The plan had been to travel incognito - the King’s luggage was marked ‘Duke of Lancaster’. Wallis’, however, were labelled with her own name, which gave the game away. As the Nahlin sailed out to sea, two Royal Navy destroyers Grafton and Glowworm were seen following protectively in its slipstream, so there was little chance of anonymity.
And there was absolutely none after a request was filed to local authorities for naked bathing off the island of Rab. Request granted, the King of the United Kingdom and the Dominions of the British Empire, and Emperor of India dived into the cool water of pine-scented Kandalora Bay in the buff. The story set the whole coast on fire - and began a worldwide trend for nudism.
A plaque in Rab’s main square commemorates Edward and Wallis’ visit. Walking from the Venetian harbour they dropped into the Grand Imperial Hotel (now the Valamar Imperial Hotel), which has a display of photographs of the day.
Europe’s most romantic island
As August's heat intensified so too did excitement over the ‘Royal couple’, who were photographed appearing to touch hands while visiting the Adriatic city of Split, where chic bars sit inside a Roman emperor’s palace. When the Nahlin approached Korkula island, celebratory cannons were fired and “the whole world rushed in”, according to a local newspaper. They came ashore by the fishing village of Lumbarda, the king wearing wide, cream slacks, Wallis a fitted checked dress, and surprised revellers at a local festival, Thinking on their feet, musicians switched from a traditional tune to an impromptu version of the National Anthem and the couple hung around for a while before heading off to to swim from sandy Bilin Zal beach.
The Hotel Korcula de la Ville in Korcula Town, a ‘mini Dubrovnik’ crammed on to a narrow peninsula, is still proud of the welcome it gave to Edward and Mrs Simpson. Built in 1902 in Venetian style, it’s an idyllic getaway. Vines shade a sweeping seafront terrace that’s perfect for G&Ts muddied with Adriatic herbs, sipped while squinting at moored yachts through lavender dusk. Twenty cosy bedrooms are decorated in muted mauves and blues with dangling chandeliers. A restaurant serves Dalmatian food along with local Pošip and Grk wines, and there are framed photographs that draw attention to the hotel's fascinating history.
The Royal party did a little light exploring, following the clanging of bells behind the hotel up shady stone steps to Sveti Marco Cathedral and resting in the courtyard of Arneri Palace. The Old Town is as dreamy now as it was then. And it’s so tiny that almost as soon as you've reached the main square you find yourself slipping down fishbone lanes dotted with craft shops and open-fronted konabas (informal restaurants) to be dispatched onto the Zakrjan Promenade. Here, dark pines twisted by the bora winds beckon to calm sea views. In a couple of places, discreet steps lead down to flat rocks from which restaurant staff swim early in the morning, leaving the heat of the day for visitors who carry down cushions to bask and bathe.
The island’s exquisitely romantic atmosphere was discussed among the Royal party and their hosts, a Yugoslavian journalist reported. So it's little surprise that they lingered longest between here and Dubrovnik, which lies little more than 100km away - a 10-hour sail for the Nahlin and 90 minutes on one of the regular catamarans that now head to the city.
The King goes boho
By now, the King was in full Med holiday mode, sporting espadrilles, shorts and a little navy gilet he’d bought in a Yugoslav village - astonishingly bohemian attire for any member of the Royal Family, never mind its head.
On 17 August, his superyacht moored close to Dubrovnik, where the ochre rooftops of its Old City glowed under a brilliant sapphire sky. Huge crowds gathered in anticipation. The commander of the Grafton destroyer came ashore to visit the Mayor of Dubrovnik and ask that there be no official welcome. The King, he said, wished to visit as a private tourist. The ‘private tourist’ and his companion were first whispered to be swimming at the blue cave at Sveti Jakov beach, which lies at the end of a coastal walk east of the city. Then, at 6pm, a swish motorboat pulled up to the Old Town harbour and the King stepped ashore wearing a pale linen suit. A Pathé News report shows him strolling along the marble-floored Stradum shopping street within the magnificent medieval city walls while swirls of onlookers scurry behind and hang out of shop doorways.
But while the UK public saw a dignified solo visit, in reality the atmosphere was feverish and focused on the romantic liaison. There were chants of "Hurrah for the lovers” from crowds on the streets. The architect Sir Hugh Casson, who would later be the director of the Festival of Britain, happened to be on holiday in the city, and described his friend being mistaken for the King and mobbed by an ebullient gang.
Dancing in Dubrovnik
All of the city’s medieval buildings, nearby hillside and islands were illuminated after dark during Edward and Mrs Simpson’s visit. And over three days and nights, the King, Wallis and their friends were spotted strutting out of the shadows into a series of fashionable bars and restaurants. A favourite hangout was the Grand Hotel Imperial, which is now the five-star Hilton Imperial and still dominates the cliffside street running down to the Old Town’s main entrance, Pile Gate. On their first evening in Dubrovnik the couple arrived at 9pm to watch folk dancing, then waltzed in the gardens as an orchestra played.
These days, a magnolia-sheltered terrace flows out from the bar across the garden. You can order cocktails made to recipes from the 1890s, when martinis were heavy with sweet vermouth, and imagine the glamorous scene - the raised eyebrows and thrilled whispers as the couple who were making newspaper front pages around the world danced by moonlight.
Other anecdotes survive. The king popped into an antique art store on Stradum to buy a painting he spotted in the window. At a seafront bar, he requested a pianist play a popular Viennese tune Ich muss wieder einmal in Grinzing sein and mimed happily along to the music. He and his guests drank glasses of Monastery old plum brandy, a favourite in the Balkans, and waltzed so energetically that one of the ladies’ ring flew off and was plucked triumphantly from the floor by a member of staff. The King and Wallis were seen at 2am being transported back to the yacht on a Venetian-style gondola by two sailors while the other guests partied on.
One restaurant that names the couple as visitors is Proto, which still sits in the heart of the Old Town. Opened in 1886, it is one of the city's best seafood restaurants, serving Mali Ston Bay oysters, grilled catch of the day and chocolate mousse on a be-linened roof terrace, where sea breezes mingle with the sound of chatter from the street below.
When it was finally time for the Nahlin to sail on towards Greece and Turkey, the King told Dubrovnik’s mayor, “[I will] never forget the extraordinarily beautiful impression this city leaves on me.” As if in thanks, the coast towards Kotor was lit up by fireworks.
Below: Edward and Wallis come ashore. King Edward VIII with Queen Mary on his last official engagement in November 1936. The view from the Hilton Imperial Hotel, Dubrovnik, and Dubrovnik Harbour in 1936, both Leo Wehrli, Wikimedia Commons
“All that matters is our happiness”
It can’t be too fanciful to speculate that a private holiday that turned into an exuberant, Mediterranean celebration of love encouraged the King to believe that the British people might also respond with acceptance, even enthusiasm for he and Wallis as a couple. He certainly behaved with increasing recklessness on his return to England. “All that matters is our happiness,” he told his appalled mother Queen Mary, who refused point-blank to acknowledge Wallis. That autumn Wallis divorced her husband, spending a dreary six weeks in a seafront house at Felixstowe in Suffolk so the case could be heard at Ipswich Assizes, a discreet distance from London.
However, the people didn’t get to cast a vote in the King’s fate. On 1 December, the aptly-named Bishop Blunt of Bradford, who knew of the affair, spoke out against the King’s behaviour and the press finally reported the story. Many British people was utterly scandalised - some refused to stand for the National Anthem. But, equally, many were aghast at the idea of losing their monarch. Acting quickly, Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin, who considered the King to be a pleasure-seeking, politically dubious liability, manoeuvred him towards abdication. In a letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury, he described his task as like that of “a dog in a sheep-dog trials who has to induce a single sheep into a narrow gate”. Sternly, he threatened that the entire government would resign if he failed to choose between love and duty.
The King was supported by future prime minister Winston Churchill, who told dinner party guests including playwright Noel Coward that he didn’t see why the King shouldn’t have his “cutie”. “Because England doesn’t wish for a Queen Cutie,” came Coward’s tart reply. Edward hoped to make a radio broadcast, a direct appeal to the British people which he felt would win their backing. Churchill raised the subject in Parliament but was shouted down. Meanwhile, Wallis fled to France to avoid the kerfuffle and Edward feared that he would lose her. Suddenly, the decision was made: the King chose love and would sacrifice his crown to secure it.
Abdication and exile
On 11 December, King Edward VIII gave his famous abdication speech on BBC Radio, declaring: “…But you must believe me when I tell you that I have found it impossible to carry the heavy burden of responsibility and to discharge my duties as King as I would wish to do without the help and support of the woman I love.” Immediately afterwards, he left the country to spend the rest of his life in Europe with Mrs Simpson, later being given the titles the Duke and Duchess of Windsor. The glorious hot summer had given way to cold exile..
Bertie, the King’s brother who was introverted, unprepared and dutiful, was hastily ushered to the vacant throne and crowned George VI at Westminster Abbey on May 12 1937. Watching was his 11-year-old daughter Elizabeth, who would become Elizabeth II. And so the monarchy continued, although its course was altered.
Yet the glamour of the Nahlin cruise lingers beyond living memory. In 2010, at Sotheby’s auction rooms in Geneva, a gold cigarette case engraved with the words ‘David from Wallis’ sold for £181,250 . It showed a map of Europe with precious gems picking out the route the couple had taken in the year when their relationship was revealed to the world. Sibenik, where their cruise began, was represented by an amethyst. Rab island, remembered for exuberant skinny-dipping, and Dubrovnik, the scene of wild partying, were emeralds. Korcula island, the most romantic destination of all, shone out as a brilliant diamond.
© A Trip Up My Sleeve
Below: a one woman protest outside the Houses of Parliament in December 1936. The Duke and Duchess of Windsor.
