How the young Queen foiled a cynical campaign by Edward and Mrs Simpson to gatecrash the early years of her reign, ALEXANDER LARMAN's new book reveals. The exiled couple found a formidable foe who saw them off like she'd see off Harry and Meghan

Had the Duke of Windsor wished to portray himself as a king-in-exile, he could not have done so more ostentatiously than at La Croe, the chateau in the south of France which he and his wife had moved to following his abdication.

With a staff of 28 and guests of the calibre of Noel Coward and Winston Churchill, they indulged in self-aggrandising theatricality, as if in compensation for all that he who ruled so briefly as King Edward VIII had given up to marry Wallis Simpson, the American divorcee who was now the Duchess.

'A tiny little white table for us four was set on the huge lawn,' recalled one visitor. 'There were rows of footmen… the night was furiously hot but the Duke was in full Scottish regalia. I thought he was staging a production of some sort.'

Another observer was similarly dismissive about the relationship between the Duke and Duchess. Describing their presence at a Monte Carlo gala, he wrote: 'She had on every jewel. He wore a kilt. It was like watching a couple in pantomime – the studied gestures, the automatic smiles.'

The Duke was no more subtle when he returned to England in February 1952 for the funeral of his younger brother, King George VI, who had so reluctantly come to the throne following his abdication.

King Edward VIII had given up the throne to marry Wallis Simpson

One observer remarked on Edward's 'swaggering' manner, and described how he was 'talking and looking around, gesticulating and almost waving to the huge and completely silent crowd'.

As the late King himself had written to their mother Queen Mary, the Duke 'seems to think that when he gave up his work for which he was trained, he could "live" it down and return here as a private individual and all would be well. He has to consider others beside himself, and I doubt whether even now he realises the irrevocable step he took and the ghastly shock he gave this country.'

Among the biggest upsets caused by the Duke was one all too familiar to today's Royal Family following the publication of Prince Harry's autobiography Spare in January 2023. This came seven decades after the release of the Duke of Windsor's memoirs, his revenge on those he believed had wronged him in the years since his decision to give up the throne had left him jobless, stateless and rootless.

Much given to self-pity, he never admitted to being the author of his own misfortunes, instead blaming his brother for just about everything, including his inability to find a job that suited him.

His tenure as governor to the Bahamas between 1940 and 1945 had been dogged by endless controversy, including his friendship with the Nazi-sympathising mogul Axel Wenner-Gren, who had an estate there and no doubt agreed with the Duke's privately expressed view that 'Hitler was not such a bad chap'.

After leaving the Bahamas in May 1945, the Duke and Duchess based themselves at the Waldorf Towers in New York where their suite was decorated in suitably regal – if garish – style. One visitor noted that it contained everything from full-length portraits of George III and George IV – the latter being the ruler the Duke had often explicitly compared himself to – to two liveried footmen, and even napkins embossed with the Royal arms.

Shortly afterwards the Duke suggested to the King that he should become an ambassador-at-large to the United States, leaving the official ambassador, Lord Halifax, to attend to the drudgery and official business while he travelled the world – first class, naturally – and the bill was picked up by someone else.

Then Princess Elizabeth in 1946. Once Queen, never would she be regarded by her loyal and adoring subjects as anything other than an inspiration

Halifax, a former Foreign Secretary who had dealt with the Duke during his governorship of the Bahamas, remembered his arrogance, lack of consideration to his fellow man and general inability to do his work to the required standards. When asked to comment on the Duke's proposal, he wrote: 'I cannot but think that anything of this sort would lead to inevitable trouble.'

In March 1946 the King wrote to his brother to tell him that the appointment would not be possible, and the Duke's anger was exacerbated by his brother's continued refusal to give his wife the recognition he believed was her due. Although the terms of the abdication entitled him to use the title of His Royal Highness, this was denied to the Duchess and he considered this insulting and wrong.

Within two months he had written to his lawyer, Sir Walter Monckton, outlining his plans to write 'my side of the abdication story'. He claimed he wanted to explode the 'considerable doubt and conjecture' that existed in people's minds. But as he confided in former courtier Godfrey Thomas, he had noted the lucrative deal secured for Winston Churchill's six-volume history of the Second World War and didn't see why he shouldn't be similarly rewarded.

Edward may have airily compared himself to Churchill, but there was a key difference between the two men. The former Prime Minister was a talented writer with an ear for a killer phrase, while the former monarch was an adequate, if verbose, correspondent given to unjustified self-regard.

Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip on the Buckingham Palace balcony in 1953

A ghostwriter was needed, and his American publisher appointed journalist Charles Murphy, a former China correspondent for Fortune magazine and an expert on global intelligence matters.

When they began work at La Croe in the summer of 1947, Murphy discovered that the then 54-year-old Duke was spending most of his nocturnal hours in various nightclubs, often remaining out until dawn. He later wrote: 'His span of attention was two and a half minutes maximum, and when the story of the preceding night was plainly written in his trembling hands and bloodshot eyes, I knew that another workday would have to be scrubbed.'

The book still wasn't finished by the end of 1949, by which time the King had learned that rumours of its intended publication were not mere gossip. According to the Conservative politician Harold Nicolson, he was 'very distressed at the news'.

Although fully aware that the King was recovering from an operation to address vascular problems caused by his heavy smoking, Edward came to London that December to raise with him once again the increasingly vexed situation of the Duchess's HRH title.

Their meeting did not go well. In a letter to Princess Elizabeth, the Queen described how Edward 'came & had one of his violent yelling conversations, stamping up and down the room, & very unfairly saying that because Papa wouldn't (& couldn't) do a certain thing, that Papa must hate him'.

The Duke and Duchess of Windsor at the Gallery of Modern Art in New York City

The book was eventually published in September 1951 – just five months before the King's death from a coronary thrombosis. Although there are no letters detailing the King or Queen's reaction, it is a safe assumption that their opinion did not stray far from that of his private secretary Sir Alan 'Tommy' Lascelles. Writing to a colleague, he expressed disgust at 'a former King of England selling for money his recollections of his family life, in a form that is indecent and for a motive that is squalid'.

The reviews were mixed. The Times Literary Supplement talked of how 'it is the Duke's own book… his own personality, his likes and strong dislikes, spring to life as well as his keen sense of humour'.

Had they known of the extent of Charles Murphy's involvement, the praise may have been more lukewarm, like that of The Observer which sighed: 'The wisdom of publication is arguable… the hero emerges as rather a pathetic figure.'

Such criticism did not harm sales. Charles Murphy estimated that the Duke earned close to £357,000 – the equivalent of about £10million today – from A King's Story. But the couple's expensive tastes meant that sums of money that would have kept most people happy for a lifetime were spent in a matter of months.

The book also estranged the Duke from his family for ever, as became clear following the King's death on February 6, 1952.

During a press conference given aboard the Queen Mary as he sailed from New York, the Duke hinted that his visit to London for the funeral was not a purely selfless one, pointing out to American newspaper reporters: 'Queen Elizabeth is only 25 – how young to assume the responsibilities of a great throne in these precarious times?'

Backing away from the clear implication that he might step in as regent for 'the girl' – as he and his wife referred to her in private – he concluded: 'She has the good wishes and support of us all.' But it was clear that he and Wallis had discussed the likelihood that they stood to gain preferment if they played their cards right.

While the Duke was in London for the funeral, Wallis wrote to remind him to ingratiate himself with the new Queen and her husband, adding: 'I know how you hate being there but this is a golden opportunity and it may only knock but once.'

Whatever their plans, they had underestimated their implacable opponent in the Queen Mother who, for all her public and private proclamations that she would be taking on a supporting role now that her daughter was on the throne, remained a powerful figure who was not yet ready to shuffle off into her dotage.

The first indication that she was prepared to flash steel concerned not the Duke but Prince Philip.

Having spent a considerable amount of time and money refurbishing Clarence House as a home for Princess Elizabeth and their young children Charles and Anne, Philip objected to moving to Buckingham Palace, insisting there was no need for the expense and bother of uprooting the new Royal Family.

His mother-in-law did not agree. 'I have been feeling very unhappy all today, and I suppose that talking about leaving Buckingham Palace just finished me off,' she wrote in a letter to Elizabeth.

But although she was clearly still coming to terms with her altered status, she knew that every monarch since Queen Victoria had lived at the palace, and nobody believed more strongly in upholding protocol than she.

Elizabeth with Prince Charles and Princess Anne at Balmoral in 1952

'Naturally you must move back to B.P. in the spring,' she insisted and eventually Philip had to accept the monarchy was a greater institution than four people. He gave in.

The Queen Mother was more unyielding still when it came to dealing with her brother-in-law, reserving continued contempt for the man whose actions she believed had affected her husband's health irreparably in the years leading up to his death.

Shortly before the funeral, the Duke learned that the £10,000 he had been receiving as an annual allowance since his abdication was to be stopped, as it had been purely in his brother's gift.

Lingering in Britain after the ceremony, he wrote a letter to 'Cookie' – the insulting sobriquet he and the Duchess used for the Queen Mother – to request a private appointment.

'I can well understand your not wanting to be bothered by people at this terribly sad moment in your life,' he said. 'But I would very much like to have a talk with you alone.' His request was granted, but if he had hoped to bring his brother's widow to his side over the vexed question of money he was to be disappointed, as he was over his plan to attend his niece's Coronation.

Following a conversation with the young woman about to take up the mantle of majesty, Geoffrey Fisher, the Archbishop of Canterbury, recorded in his notes that 'the Queen would be less willing than anyone to have him there'.

In this she may have been influenced by her mother, but the new Queen was also discovering confidence in adversity, commenting to one friend: 'I no longer feel anxious or worried. I don't know what it is, but I have lost all my timidity somehow becoming the sovereign.'

Her uncle had been an appalling, selfish king; her father a dutiful and serviceable one. But Elizabeth II was someone quite different.

Her reign would not be without controversy, incident or upset, but never would she be regarded by her loyal and adoring subjects as anything other than an inspiration. She was the longest-serving monarch in British history, and in many regards the greatest.

© Alexander Larman, 2024

• Adapted from Power And Glory by Alexander Larman, to be published by Orion on March 28 at £25. To order a copy for £22.50 (offer valid to 23/2/24; UK p&p free on orders over £25) go to mailshop.co.uk/books or call 020 3176 2937.