The royals - Kitty Kelley [21]
That royal visit had caused a political ruckus in America, especially among upper-crust Republicans, who venerated Great Britain as “the mother country.” One grande dame became so upset by the prospect of the monarchs’ being subjected to the President’s informal hospitality at Hyde Park that she appealed to the British Foreign Office to cancel that part of the visit.
“There is no proper arrangement for Secret Service men and police even in ordinary times,” she wrote. “The house has no proper suites and rooms, etc., and the service represents a scratch lot of negroes and white, English and Irish. The Footman is a lout of a red-haired Irishman, and should only be carrying wood and coals and polishing shoes….”
The President, who was widely suspected—correctly—of trying to take America into a European war, was facing a tough reelection campaign in 1940. The Neutrality Act, then being debated in Congress, would limit America’s ability to supply Britain with arms in case of war as well as limit Roosevelt’s powers as President under the Constitution. Roosevelt hoped the act would be revised.
Roosevelt wanted the royal visit to be a public relations success so that Americans would be positively disposed to Great Britain and see the wisdom of giving military aid. But the President was almost stymied by the snobbery of Britain’s class system, even among servants. He had tried to help the Hyde Park staff prepare for the royal visit by dispatching two black ushers from the White House. This incensed his mother’s English butler, James, who refused to work with men of color in serving the monarchs. He insisted on taking his annual leave during the royal visit.
“Oh, but James,” said Sara Roosevelt, “that’s just when Their Majesties are going to be here.”
“Madam,” replied the butler, “I cannot be a party to the degradation of the British monarchy.”
The King and Queen had requested that eiderdown comforters and hot-water bottles be provided for their ladies-in-waiting, which amused the President: the monarchs were visiting in June, when the weather was usually hot, even unbearably humid. He was also surprised by the attitude of his mother’s butler, but then he did not understand that British servants could be as haughty as those they served. The President laughed aloud when he heard that the footman to King Edward VIII had walked off his job three years before when he encountered his master behaving in what he called “a most unbecoming manner.” The footman explained: “Well, the butler, Mr. Osborne, sent me down to the swimming pool with two drinks. When I got there, what did I see but His Majesty painting Mrs. Simpson’s toenails. My sovereign painting a woman’s toenails! It was a bit much, I’m afraid, and I gave notice at once.”
Showing the same hauteur, the Roosevelts’ English butler left for vacation the day before the King and Queen arrived at Hyde Park. When Their Majesties were en route, the U.S. Ambassador to France, William C. Bullitt, sent a confidential memo to the President:
The little Queen is now on her way to you together with the little King. She is a nice girl—eiderdown or no eiderdown—and you will like her, in spite of the fact that her sister-in-law, the Princess Royal, goes around England talking about “her cheap public smile.” She resembles so much the female caddies who used to carry my clubs at Pitlochry in Scotland many years ago that I find her pleasant…. The little King is beginning to feel his oats, but still remains a rather frightened boy.
The King and Queen had made a royal visit to Paris the year before that was a public relations success