#bertie & his mama

[spiritundaunted]

Aw, sweet little Bertie with his Mama!

(Queen Mary, when Duchess of York with infant Prince Albert, later King George VI)

You can tell it's him a mile away - the watchful eyes, (with a tiny turn in the left), the "resting pleasant face" mouth, beautiful shiny hair and his big ol' ears. Adorbs!

And Mary looks so lovely.

It breaks my heart to think this sweet little infant was mistreated and neglected by his first nanny for the first 18 months of his life! I'm sure that in some ways set the stage for some of the anxieties he struggled with throughout his life. Thank goodness Lala Bill came to the rescue and became the children's beloved nanny!

And he turned out to be made of pretty tough stuff!

#sweet baby bertie #bertie & his mama #the little toes though! #king george vi #prince albert #queen mary #1896 #royal children #british royal family #aww

[theroyalspamspace]

Different person, same font (or something like that).

#british royal family #queen mary #king george vi #family resemblance #bertie was his mama's clone and i'd die on this hill #no one's gonna convince me otherwise #this is the same face on different people lol #mary's gene game was strong af

[happyhauntt]

young gods | marauders.

writing masterlist | askbox

summary: the gryffindors have a little tradition on the first night back at hogwarts.

word count: 1.2k.

warnings: pre-established relationships, tooth-aching fluff, a brief mention of war.

notes: a wee excerpt from an old marauders fic i wrote years ago. i reread it recently and this section made me cry so i tidied it up and i'm posting it here as a little ficlet. enjoy!!

     Now, as Dorcas and Marlene slip into the common room, they find their friends in the corner, keeping warm by the fire. Lily and Alice are curled up together on an armchair built for one person, their legs tangled in long, fluffy dressing gowns.

Mary sits on the sofa next to them, legs stretched across Remus and Peter, the latter of which looking as though he has no idea what to do. James and Sirius are sitting cross-legged on a tartan blanket that covers the floor, and the latter looks up and grins as they enter.

     "McKinnon's brought snacks!" he cheers with as much enthusiasm as he can muster, clapping his hands as they approach. Dorcas pushes Mary's leg out of the way and squeezes into the gap between Remus and Peter, before letting Mary return her legs to their former position.

     "Dinner was less than an hour ago, Sirius," Marlene says with a roll of her eyes. She drops the food in the middle of the blanket, so all of them can reach it. Alice is quick to snatch up a handful of droobles. Marlene's tone takes on a falsely disapproving note, and she narrows her eyes mockingly. "You can't be hungry already."

     "McKinnon," he replies, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "there is a profound difference between food hungry and snacks hungry. You ought to learn it, for your life will be much better once you have."

     Marlene quirks an eyebrow. Her hand is halfway to reaching for a chocolate frog. "Is this the same sort of wisdom as when you told me that getting a leather jacket would change my life?"

     Sirius only smirks. He shares a cursory glance with James, who thinks Marlene's jacket has almost become an extension of her sunshine-scary personality. "I was right though, wasn't I?"

     Marlene thinks of that bright yellow jacket, sitting in her suitcase, waiting to be unpacked. She thinks of wearing it when she got onto the train earlier in the day, and how she'd been almost sad to take it off when she had to change into her uniform, and how careful she'd been in stowing it away in her suitcase.

     She allows Sirius a begrudging roll of her eyes. Both of them possess egos far larger than they ought to be, and she will not let him gloat. She'll probably smack him, otherwise.

     The evening moves on. Dorcas suggests that they pass around a box of Bertie Bott's, and Marlene knows it's a mistake when she reaches into the box with her eyes closed and picks out a speckled yellow-and-white bean between her fingers. The taste of rotten egg lingers for a while, no matter how many cauldron cakes she consumes.

     And she consumes many, many cauldron cakes.

     It doesn't take long for the tales of summertime exploits to begin being told with great detail and exaggeration. At some point, the conversation is steered by Lily ( rather expertly, her friend would say, although Marlene would argue that it was by no means subtle ) into the direction of muggle music. It doesn't take long for them to burst into a poor-but-hilarious rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody. Dorcas joins in at the first verse, dramatically crying Mama, just killed a man! Remus, much to their surprise, does a fantastic Galileo, Galileo, which makes James and Sirius howl with laughter even though they don't know what the hell is going on.

     It's over too quickly. It grows dark outside, and the fire is dimming, and they're all a little bit sleepy now. There are crumbs all over the tartan blanket, and Marlene's head is resting in Sirius' lap, his fingers running through her tangled blonde curls.

     Lily has fallen asleep on top of Alice, ginger hair splayed out across the older girl's face, while Alice tries not to choke on hair. James is watching them, a dopey grin across his face. It's the kind that only appears when Lily isn't looking because he knows it annoys her now (even though it doesn't, really, but Lily won't tell him that because she's only just stopped wanting to smack him.)

     Peter's snoring away on the sofa. Remus is asleep, too, his head resting on Dorcas' shoulder, and Marlene thinks it's the most peaceful he's looked in a while. She doesn't know why she thinks that, but she does wonder about the scars that cover his body and how he gets so ill sometimes. He's her friend too, and she worries. She worries about all her friends.

     Dorcas is awake, and she's got a soft smile on her face. Mary's still lying across the top of the three of them, except she's asleep now, too, and about to roll right off the edge. Dorcas looks like she'll let her.

     Marlene takes a deep breath. She's not too good at talking about her feelings, but something about this moment feels right. She looks at the lot of them, half-asleep. When she thinks of the word home, this is what comes to mind  ━  her friends, her best friends in the whole world, peaceful and happy together.

     Part of her knows it won't last, but she tries to push that thought away. The war won't catch them, not as long as they are students at Hogwarts, and it's over a year before they have to deal with the danger in the world, isn't it?

     The war can wait. The world can wait. Right now, here, this is everything she needs. Her brothers can leave her behind if they want; if they love her, they'll come back, in the end. In this moment, she can't fix it. She can't save anyone.

     But this is home.

     "I promise I'm not drunk or sleep-talking," she murmurs, letting her eyes fall closed for a moment. She feels Sirius' hand fall still, hovering with expectation. "But I love you guys. All of you. You know that?"

     Lily makes a snuffling noise, as if she's heard Marlene's words, but she stays asleep. James chuckles quietly to himself. Dorcas looks like she might leap across the room and attack Marlene with a hug.

     Sirius looks down at her. His eyes are like steel in the dying firelight.

     "You need to chill or I'll tickle you, because nobody needed to hear that." He says it jokingly, because he did need to hear that. It is a symptom of growing up in a loveless home, he thinks, and he knows Marlene feels it too. One must be told, regularly, that they are loved and wanted.

     James tells him, every day. James, who is more of a brother to him than Regulus is, really.

     Carefully, she rises from Sirius' lap, rolling onto her knees. And then she says, "You'll have to catch me before you can tickle me, Black."

     She grins, suddenly filled with mischief and glee, moving quicker than lightning across the room, and the night ends with him chasing her around the common room.

     In that moment, with hair flying and her friends laughing and the thunder clapping outside, she thinks they are all infinite. They are all invincible. They are young gods with the world at their feet, the ones who will never die, and time stops moving.

      And then Sirius catches her.

      And the moment's over.

#the marauders #marauders era #marauders era fic #marauders era fanfiction #james potter #sirius black x reader #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fanfiction #marauders imagine #marauders fluff #marlene mckinnon #marlene mckinnon fanfic #* chapter update.

[lionhearteddame]

”After it was all over, looking into the beddroom, Lady Macclesfield saw Alix and Bertie weeping together on the bed. Bertie's devotion and tenderness towards his wife was touching to behold.” The birth of Albert Victor on January 8th 1864 described in

Bertie: A life of Edward VII

And from the moment Albert Victor, referred as Eddy, was born, he would forever be adored by his young mother. Just as he adored her.

”From the time her first-born [Prince Albert Victor]'s legs were strong enough to carry him any distance she [Queen Alexandra] liked to go for long walks alone with him at Sandrigham, and as soon as he was big enough, he would take her arm or put his arm round her waist. [...] The eldest himself perhaps the best summed up the relationship with his mother in his own words, to one of those of looked after him when young. 'Mama is so nice', said he. 'She's fond of everything I like. There's nobody like mama.'”

Alexandra: Edward VII’s Unpredictable Queen, E.E.P Tisdall

When Eddy tragically passed away at the age of 28 in 1892 it was devastating for Alexandra and she was never to get over losing him, once saying, "I have buried my angel and with him my happiness."

#Queen Alexandra #Princess Alexandra #Prince Albert Victor #Prince Eddy #Royal History #British Royal Family #He was a mama’s boy;’) #Poor Alix:’( #Mother and Son appreciation post #Mother and son #Royalty

[for-valour]

London, 1914. King George V and Queen Mary at the Y.M.C.A., Great Russell Street. To the left of the King, a Mr. Vergo, Secretary General; to the far right, Lord Kinnaird, President of the Y.M.C.A.

OH YES and standing next to his mama, let’s not forget an adorable 18/19 year-old Prince Bertie! He looks so shy and awkward, what a heartbreaker 🥹

source: Bibliotheque Nationale de France

#beautiful bertie #gorgeous george v #king george v #king george vi #george v #prince albert #albert duke of york #george vi #god save the king #the british royal family #the monarchy #the british monarchy #the royal family #king bertie #long live the king #queen mary #queen mary of teck #ymca #the british empire #british royal family #royalty #british monarchy

[what-if-queen-camilla]

Like grandfather, like grandson - Chapter 1

First of all, I'd like to wish a very happy new year to you all! New year, new story - don't worry about Thea, we'll keep on following her journey as well, but somehow, after re-watching The Crown last week, I was inspired to something else - and I'm curious for your opinions!

What if… King George VI had not died of cancer in 1952, Princess Elizabeth had not ascended the throne only aged 25, and young Prince Charles of Edinburgh had grown up having his grandfather guiding him through the ways of the world…?

Chapter 1

23rd November, 1972

“Hello, my darling boy!”, his elderly grandfather greeted Charles affectionately as the two of them met, as they've always done ever since the young Prince could remember, on this rainy Thursday at 11.30 am at Buckingham Palace. “Hello grandpa!”, Charles replied, kissing both of his grandfather's cheeks before bowing down to him. “How are you doing? How's your cough?” As if on command, the elderly King was stricken by another, rather rough cough attack which immediately caused his caring grandson to rush to his side and help him getting seated in one of the red chairs on the dining table. “Not too bad, not too bad…”, the King tried to play down his health issues as per usual; he didn't want to raise anyone's concerns and thought he was lucky enough to have recovered from the wretched cancer all of those years ago at all. Though he'd never really got back into his old shape, he was still around and felt very humble and grateful for that. Every year - every day actually - he could spend with his family, his beloved wife and daughters and of course his darling grandson Charles, who was all his pride and joy, was a gift to him, a gift he wanted to enjoy to the full, for himself and his loved ones. He didn't want them to worry about him, he was far more interested in hearing everything his loved ones were up to, and especially the lad of course. “Mama has asked me to forward her and Papa’s very best wishes to you!”, Charles began, as per usual, with a little update on his parents. “Thank you!”, Bertie replied. “Where are they off to again this month…?” Travelling had become so different compared to when he and Elizabeth undertook their first joint overseas visits back in the 1930s, before the war, over the last couple of years, and the young people seemed to do everything at once, the whole Commonwealth within 10 days it seemed, and he had long lost count of the places his eldest daughter and son-in-law were visiting. He was just grateful for their sense of duty and dedication and for their popularity across all realms. “Tuvalu, grandpa.”, Charles explained giggling. “Oh, right.”, The King responded. “Is that where they worship your father as a God?”, he chuckled and Charles shook his head in amusement. “No, grandpa, that would be Vanuatu.” “Oh…”, Bertie said, just as a servant entered the room and brought them drinks.

“Anyway, tell me all of your news, my darling boy!”, the King asked after they had both been served a good glass of wine. “I'll be off to the Navy two weeks from now.”, Charles declared proudly, and his grandfather's eyes lit up immediately. Having served in the Navy himself, of course, he was beyond happy to see the son he never had following his footsteps. But somehow, he felt, there was something on the young Prince’s mind that seemed to dampen his joy. “What’s the matter, my dear?”, the sensitive King asked and gave Charles an especially reassuring and understanding glance. Charles blushed and lowered his eyes, well aware that his grandfather knew him better than anyone else and had, of course, noticed his insecurities at once. “Could it be about a certain girl…?”, Bertie asked carefully, smiling at Charles encouragingly. “Well…”, the Prince stuttered awkwardly, much to his grandfather’s amusement. “Maybe… Um, grandpa, listen, I… I wanted to ask you something…” His grandson’s unusually serious inflexion almost caused the elderly monarch to worry but the twinkle in Charles’ eyes let him know that whatever he was up to right now, it had to be something wonderful. “I… um, you might remember… Camilla Shand…”, he finally stuttered and Bertie frowned his forehead. “Shand? You mean, um… the daughter of… Baron Ashcombe?” “Granddaughter.”, Charles gently corrected him. “Oh, yes, right.” The King cleared his throat. He and Elizabeth used to meet with the young Baron back when he was the heir, and his former wife at some glamorous dinner parties hosted by Mrs Greville back in the golden twenties - back when they were still Duke and Duchess of York and though Sonia and Roland sadly divorced shortly after the war, especially Elizabeth had always stayed close with Sonia as well as her daughter Rosalind who, much to her parents’ regret had married way below her station and became Mrs Shand in 1946. Bertie himself had actually admired her for having chosen love above titles and wealth and he quite liked the lad. Bruce, if he recalled correctly, who maybe couldn’t offer what was considered an aristocratic background, had strongly and bravely defended their country during the awful war and even got imprisoned by the Germans…

Times had changed and if Bertie had learnt one thing from his almost 35 years on the throne, it was that love was stronger than convention. So the Shands, along with many other families, had been frequent guests at several fun Balmoral weekends ever since and Bertie remembered Charles and Anne playing with their two little daughters and son who’s name he sadly couldn’t recall for the moment… “Camilla…”, Charles pronounced it as if it was some kind of a prayer. “Her sister Annabel and her brother Mark.” “Oh, yes, I remember.”, Bertie said, taking a huge sip of his red wine. “And… What’s your question now, darling boy?” “Oh grandpa…”, Charles remarked, chuckling in some awkward kind of embarrassment. “You see… Camilla and I’ve been dating for a couple of months now and… I think… No, I don’t think, I know… I love her. She’s the one, grandpa. My soulmate. The one person in this world who truly understands me, who completes me… She’s warm and funny and loving and… oh, grandpa, I… I just feel like I’m flying! I’ve never felt such bliss and happiness before!”, he gushed and the pure joy in his grandson’s eyes sweetly reminded the elderly King of his own crush on the young Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon who had had the very same effect on him. He had known she was the one almost at once, but it took him quite a while to convince her… It had been worth the wait though, they’d be happily married for 50 years next April and surely everybody agreed that she was the best and most devoted Queen Consort the United Kingdom had ever seen.

“Well, if that’s what you want to ask me, my darling boy…”, he began. “Then of course, you can count on my blessings! Let’s hope your Camilla won’t need as long to say ‘yes’ as your grandmother!”, he chuckled, but couldn’t even think of it any further, as his grandson excitedly jumped up and rushed over to him, hugging him affectionately. “Thank you, grandpa!”, he sobbed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” “But, Charles, darling… have you already got a ring for you girl?”, the King asked and Chalres looked at him as if he was a ghost. “A… ring… um…”, he stuttered, and  his grandfather burst into laughter. “I’ve told you, my lad!”, Bertie giggled. “You have to impress the ladies! Let’s have a look at our little treasure chamber together and find something fit for a future Queen…”

#king charles #queen camilla #royal family #fanfic #fanfiction #queen elizabeth ii #queen mother #king george vi

[plumbob-pudding]

A few months after turning eighteen, Sly flew the nest. Mr. Landgraab had offered him a new position in another factory ( as manager!) and he needed to be closer.

Sly was happy to finally have his own space. He knew Mama and Papa had expected him to quit and help out at Papa and Uncle Bertie's bank, but he wanted to be his own person, besides he wasn't sure said bank will become a reality whereas Mr. Langraab and his money and factories were very much real.

#sims 4 decades challenge #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 legacy #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #ts4 decades challenge #sims 4 simblr #the mosleys #gen 2 #sly is not the heir hehe

[blazeismyname]

Hey. Um.

Brian wakes up one morning. He looks into his arms, his warm embrace holding Jonny. But Jonny is not warm. He's cold. Unmoving. "Jonny?" Brian whispers, feeling his human heart skip uneasily. "Jonny..." He looks into the face of Jonny, soft and still. Jonny had passed the most peaceful death: In his loves arms while asleep. And Brian's heart aches and wobbles, and his lip trembles. He lifts the body out and calls down the hall quietly. "Mama... Mama, you'll want to... want to see this"

Carmilla, of course, comes to her son's side quickly. "Darling- is that-?"" "Jonny.. he's dead. " Carmilla tears up. She's just as uneasy as she leads her son and her son-in-law (assuming Brian and Jonny get married) to the basement. Carmilla hadn't needed anyone to know so soon, but she had coffins ready after what had happened with the royal throuple. "It's for both of you. When your time comes, you lay with him." Carmilla explains that gently, laying Jonny into the coffin. "May I hold him in death? May his body forever lay in the arms of my body? I must know Mama." Carmilla nods. "Whatever you wish, my darling. I'm sure he would've wanted to be lost in your warm metal arms for eternity anyway.'

Brian will not live to see the next sunrise. His heart is pained so deeply now that his love has passed. He, too, dies in his sleep, and everyone in the castle knew when he wasn't downstairs, humming to himself over breakfast at his normal time. This is even more painful for Carmilla, and she can not carry the dead body of Brian for a second time. Tim, Bertie, Lyf, Raph, and Ashes opt to carry his heavy metal body to the coffin, even in their old ages. He's placed under Jonny, arms gently wrapped around. Carmilla sobs quietly, as does everyone as the two prince, the two lovers are laid to rest in their deep dirt grave.

Maybe they had children? Adopted or somehow biological (we know Carmilla and Raph could probably do that when put to it). They just lost their only parent in less than a day... (This one depends on whether we feel it's in character and that they should have kids)

Anyway, happy birthday to me :)

#the consequences of creation and love

[cinamun]

I’m still team Diane “Bertie” Marbery. *sips ghettosa*

For example, I go by my middle name. I’ve never been called my first name EVER in life. People don’t know my first name (unless they went to elementary school or something and saw it on roll randomly or whatever)… Hell, even my family (aunts/uncs/cousins) don’t know my first name. 😂 They just know me by either my middle name or nickname.

So it still stands…Diane & Bertie gotta be the same woman! Hell, Eva still may know her as Bertie but when he asked what is your moms name, she gave him her government as any of us would. If someone is asking me what my parents names are, I’m saying their governments too. Like if my professor asked me what my mamas name is I’m not about to be like it’s “Cookie,” Imma be like Carol. Carol Baskins... Ya feel me?

😂 Pleeeaassseeee don’t ask me why that popped in my head. It’s after 5pm and my mind be on something else. It was a rough day. 😩

BUT BUT BUT!!! I think once Eva realized that Jayce was coming from a wholesome place after his explanation

I think she was intrigued and was trying to help solve whatever mystery she thought she may have been involved in. She was very clear about her mom's last name not being Carruthers, but doesn't mention a nickname that might be more familiar?

We didn't see how this conversation really ended so hennything is possible at this point in the game!

#I have an uncle whose nickname is rock #istg I do not know that man's government name #LMFAOOOOOOOOOOO #why are we like this as a culture???? #story stuff

[unsat-and-strange]

it's so stupid late and I just got off watch but I have a duty I take more seriously than my actual money paying job: sharing the doodles I did on watch

assorted notes including a potential drawing series maybe??? I'm sorry but the war trio is so deep in my skull

ivy got used to having short hair when she was a mouse and so post curse she cut it (raphaella approves)

creature jonny sitting on things he shouldn't

Brian wandering the castle (please mama I put PANTS on for this)

lyf making berties crutch (plus aftermath)

Tim gets cool scars on his eyes because I said so.

maid bertie @blazeismyname YOU BROUGHT THIS ON YOURSELF

ivy and raph cause I like them :) raph still cuts up cheese for ivy

idea for an animatic????? @rocksanddeadflowers may I humbly suggest passerine by the oh hellos for tim and Bertie please the second verse is so burning down your armies camp and running into the wasteland in hopes of a better place coded

#MY PALMS AND FINGERS STILL REEK OF GASOLINE #FROM THROWING FUEL TO THE FIRE OF THAT GRECO ROMAN DREAM #PURIFY THE HOLY ROCK TO MELT THE GUILDED SEAMS #IT DONT BRING ME RELIEF NO IT DONT BRING ME NOTHING #CAUSE you were the song that I'd always sing... you were the light that the fire would bring #cause I can't shake this feeling that I was only pushing the spear into your side again #please tell me y'all see my vision it is so them they are besties and wracked by guilt and I need to learn animation #good GOD I NEED TO GO TO BED #3 and a half hours of sleep let's goooooo #ebb rambles #ebb draws stuff #the consequences of creation and love #the mechanisms

[dancemachinetrait]

September 19th, 1910- Letter extract, Daisy Gillespie to Clem Gillespie

Mother and Mrs Yates are telling everyone the two of you have gone to take up a secretarial course. I know you’d be amused that they’ve finally found common cause. It’s certainly the first time I’ve ever seen them co-operate.

Things are strange here. I think Mama suspects I know where you are, but she won’t ask me- at least, not directly. That’s a relief as I’d find it hard to tell her a direct untruth. 

The most important news is that Jem was accepted into Brindleton College on a full scholarship! Mama has told everyone in the village a dozen times over and took him into Greater Windenburg to have his uniform fitted, even though he doesn’t start for almost a year. Papa has been telling him he mustn’t grow another inch, and Jem has resolved to give up his bedtime glass of milk ‘in order that I shan’t grow any more’ (although I think this is only an excuse as you know he hates milk).

Mama made Jem walk up and down the parlour in his uniform to show us all. Biddy fell about laughing and got sent upstairs and Papa hummed Burlington Bertie, which made me think of you. I couldn’t help but think of what you would have said. It does seem silly to make a ten-year-old boy wear a top hat, but then I suppose I don’t know anything about being a gentleman.

I’m glad there is a little while until Jem leaves. It will be strange when it’s just me and Biddy. I know she’ll miss Jem, too- the two of them are thick as thieves. Of course she will be starting at the village school next year as well. That will be a relief really. She was always headstrong, but since you left lately she’s become a bit of a terror. She got a tin of molasses out of the larder and by the time Mother found her half of it was in her hair and wouldn’t come out! You’ve never heard such ructions. In the end Mother had to cut her hair quite short and she cried bitterly at first, but I showed her some fashion plates of little girls with shingled hair from one of my magazines and told her none of the village girls had anything a bit like it, and that perked her up in no time. It really does look pretty on her, but then she always was the prettiest of us. I suppose you won’t mind me saying that, now that you…well, you know. 

Perhaps showing her the magazines worked a little too well. This afternoon I caught her walking up and down the pasture wall with a book on her head, and when I asked her what she was doing she said she was practising to be a mannequin for the House of Worth.

The village is much the same as ever. Paul Farber and Sybil Copeland were married last Sunday. Myrtle was head bridesmaid and looked like thunder. I suspect she’s chafing that Sybil is married before her, and her not even engaged. I think she and Justice Bowlinger have had a lover’s quarrel; she hasn’t been boasting about him nearly as much lately.

Eli has been teaching me songs in Yiddish (his mother’s language) and Ladino (his father’s). I’d never heard either before. I’m sure I make an awful mess of them, but he’d never say so. He’s begun calling me Margeritke, which means daisy, after one of the songs. Daisy is such a prosaic name, the sort of name you give to cows, but Margeritke seems quite different.

He laughed a good deal when I showed him your picture, but he swore he wasn’t making fun. He said you looked more natural in men’s clothes than you ever did in skirts.

I must go to bed now; I have to be up early to milk Betsy. Oh! and I enclose a portrait of Jem in his uniform. Mama had so many copies made, I don’t think she’ll miss one.

Your loving sister,

Daisy

previous | next | beginning

#decades challenge #history challenge #ts4 history challenge #s4 history challenge #decades legacy #gillespie legacy #gen1

[ukfanpage]

Edward VIII's letter to his mother Mary just after his abdication

Most darling Mama

It is difficult to write much this evening but I want you to have these few lines from me to say God bless you for all your understanding throughout these last trying days and especially for your sweetness to me last night. 

I loved our last few minutes together and at last being able to bring dear Papa into out talk. We were different in many ways and yet you know how devoted I was to him and I cried when you said he was human. 

It would have been hard for him to understand what I have done – you do so much better and I love you for it and hate to think of the strain that this last month has been to you. As I told you again last night I have known for two years that I could not carry on without Wallis and so my mind was so firmly made up and that made any decision easier. 

It was a big thing to do but I know it will be best for all in the end and Bertie will make a fine King and will be able to carry on without any upset and will find that I have left the Crown and the throne as Papa left it on the same high level it has maintained for so many centuries. 

The only terribly hard thing for me is that I can’t see Wallis until April 27th but she and I can take that separation with the knowledge of the great love, happiness and companionship which we are so sure we can give each other. We do want to return to England as soon as is convenient to Bertie and suitable to the country, for we know there is no other worth living in. 

But you and he also know that we will never do so without his asking us. We will await his word and if we can help him and you in any way it will only increase our happiness. 

Oh! Mama darling my heart is so full tonight. Full of lovely and sacred feelings for Wallis and devotion to you my mother who has been as grand as she has throughout this crisis. I will write again soon and until then God bless you. 

Always your most devoted and loving, 

David

#united kingdom #uk monarchy #british royal family #england #queen mary of teck #queen mary #brf #edward viii #king edward viii #abdication

[bellabeth]

WEDDING Berizabeth-fanfic

A week and a half later, Elizabeth was stood in the back of a church, awaiting the moment she would be summoned to walk the long walk to the man who was to become her husband by the end of the next hour. She swayed slightly from side to side as she let her gown dance around her curves.

It was a classic white tulle, the waistline cut perfectly under her bust that accentuated her natural form in a way that the dresses her mother put her in never had. She felt really beautiful that day.

She felt like a woman. She felt like a bride, and one about to get her happy ending.

She hoped it would be a happy ending. today was hers and Bertie’s to enjoy without the worries. So, God damn it, she would enjoy it.

"Lizzie! You look beautiful!" Mary’s gushing gasp brought her from her thoughts as she spun around to face her maid of honour. Mary was dressed in a pale lilac, her hair tied back in a bun with a few loose strands framing her face. Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you, Mary," she replied, "You do too."

She stepped forward, taking her friend’s hands in her own.

"How are you feeling?"

Before Elizabeth could respond, her soon-to-be mother-in-law, and the Lady Mabell Airlie appeared. "How are you feeling?" Queen Mary said

Elizabeth could not help but giggle. "A little nervous but mostly excited, your Majesty," she replied with a smile that most certainly met her eyes.

My dear, you must call me mama now!" He corrected her, stepping forward. She brought Elizabeth into an embrace, a very maternal one and Elizabeth found herself melting into it. Queen Mary stepped back a little, cupping her face in her hands. "You look a little peaky, though… are you sure you are well?" Concern danced across her face.

"Just nerves, I…" Elizabeth said, clearing her throat, "I am okay. Is Bertie well?"

"He is nervous but excited to see you," Mabel chimed in, "As for you, I should fetch you some water." Before Elizabeth could even begin to protest at the idea, Mabel had swum out of the room, returning mere moments later with a cup of water. "Nerves are quite normal, but we do not want you becoming indisposed on your wedding day," she told her, handing the bride the cup.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said, as she sipped at the cold liquid. She took a deep sigh as she turned back to the mirror to admire herself. She had to admit her complexion was rather pale, but besides her peakiness, she thought she really looked beautiful, and within the hour, she would be Bertie’s wife. She was excited, terrified, and all the emotions one would expect to feel while awaiting the inevitable aisle walk.

"We should take our seats," Mabel said, turning to Queen Mary. The latter moved forward towards Elizabeth, laying a hand on the younger woman’s shoulder before placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Your mother will be through in just a moment, and we shall see you shortly," she said, "Do not fret, this is a happy day."

Elizabeth nodded, giving Queen Mary a smile. "I am happy," she replied, her sentiment genuine, "Me and Bertie…" she broke off, letting her thoughts drift wistfully.

Mabel chuckled, then swam out of the room to take her seat in the church with her husband. Mary (His sister) came back in on cue, Cecilia clipping at her heels.

Elizabeth’s mother was grinning, the most proud she had ever seen Cecilia Cavendish-bentinck and Elizabeth could not help but smile as she stepped forward and into her mother’s embrace. "My darling girl, the day is here. You are beautiful, and marrying," Cecilia stroked carefully through Elizabeth’s soft curls that fell long down her back. "I am so pleased for you. I hope you know I am proud, and I love you."

"I do know, Mama. I love you too," she replied, her voice muffled slightly by the embrace.

Queen Mary looked at Lady Mabel for a moment and then spoke "I shall take my seat. I trust I can inform the Minister that you are ready?

Honey, are you ready? His father asked as he entered.

Elizabeth pulled out of her mother’s arms and he smiled at his father "Yes, I am ready." She placed her arm through the crook of her father’s elbow, standing in procession behind Mary who would enter first. Queen Mary dashed back through and a few moments later, the strong quarter began.

Bertie was making every mental effort not to fiddle with his cravat as he waited at the front of the church in front of their families and friends. George was stood to his side as his Best Man, "Stop fussing! You look fine! Better than fine, in fact! She will be here in a moment!" His brother admonished, which quickly made him stand up tall.

But, he was still grateful when his mother came back in, signalling to the string quartet, and the sight of his sister making her way down the aisle reassured him that Elizabeth would shortly be arriving.

If one described his reaction to seeing his bride as being jaw-dropping, that was rather an understatement. When Elizabeth parted the drapes and started the walk towards him, as she entered on her father’s arm, Bertie’s eyes widened, his lips parted, and his heart skipped several heartbeats that scientifically speaking, would ordinarily lead to his premature demise. But he kept living, at the sight of his Aphrodite herself.

He smiled at her, his heart in his eyes as she approached him.

When she finally reached his side, her father releasing her for him to take her hand, he knew he had speak, he could not very well stay silent without telling her how spectacular she looked. "You look beautiful," his words came out as a whisper that only she would hear.

"Thank you," she whispered back, returning his smile, "You look very handsome yourself." His smile turned cute and boyish, but before he could respond, the Minister signalled for the congregation to be seated once more.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Congregation, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of this man and this woman, in holy matrimony."

He turned to Bertie first. "Albert Frederick Arthur George, do you take Elizabeth Bowes lyon to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honour and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Bertie replied confidently.

The Minister nodded, then turned to Elizabeth. "Elizabeth Bowes lyon, do you take Albert Frederick Arthur George to be your wedded husband to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honour and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him so long as you both shall live?"

Elizabeth smiled, then said, "I do."

The Minister glanced to George, who withdrew the ring from his jacket’s inside pocket and handed it to Bertie. The Minister nodded to him, prompting his next move.

Bertie lifted Elizabeth’s left hand, pinching at the fingers of her glove to carefully tease it from her. He hovered the ring near her fourth finger.

"Repeat after me," the Minister then said, "With this ring, I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

Bertie subtly cleared his throat, then responded, his gaze meeting Elizabeth’s, "With this ring, I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen." Then, he diligently pushed the wedding band onto her finger, taking relish in the brief moment where their hands touched unobstructed by gloves.

"Now, let us pray," the Minister said, prompting for Bertie to take hold of her other hand, guiding them both down onto the pew for prayer. The Minister issued them both with communion and then started the prayer.

"And stand," the Minister said afterwards. Addressing both the couple and the guests, he announced, "With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you, husband and wife."

Bertie smiled. And Elizabeth smiled.

"If the Bride and Groom could follow me to sign the Register," he said, his voice more hushed. Bertie took Elizabeth’s hand, refusing to let her go as they were escorted into a side room. Queen Mary and Cecilia were escorted behind, as witnesses.

First, Bertie signed, then so did Elizabeth. Then, they were legally married, both parties exceedingly happy as they were led back into the main church and down the aisle, to greet their guests. And sure enough, the guests were there, rice and seeds tossed over them in celebration as they were escorted to the carriage that would take them to Buckingham Palace for the celebrations.

It was about thirty seconds after they had waved to their families and friends and the carriage had begun to move when Elizabeth had reached for Bertie’s hand, and was reassured when he gave hers a gentle squeeze.

"Mrs Windsor," he mused, a smile on his face.

"Mr Windsor," she replied, chuckling slightly before being silenced as he leaned in to press his lips to hers.

The journey to Buckingham palace did not last long and sooner than either of the newlyweds would have liked, the carriage came to a halt outside of the house front.

Bertie alighted first, then turned and held a hand out for Elizabeth, who graciously took his hand as she climbed down, using her free hand to scoop her skirts a little to prevent tripping. They were greeted by both of their immediate families before being escorted indoors for the wedding breakfast.

When they entered the house, the mothers were naturally the first to approach them. Cecilia gave Elizabeth a sort of awkward embrace and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Congratulations, my dear," she said, a smile pulling at the matriarch’s lips, "I hope married life will treat you well."

"Thank you, Mama," Elizabeth replied with a smile. She felt Bertie brush a hand down her arm in reassurance. Queen Mary was the next to approach them, first embracing Bertie tightly, then doing the same with Elizabeth.

"Thank you, mommy," Bertie said, wrapping his arm around his mother’s form.

Swiftly escorted into the dining room, surrounded by their families, the wedding breakfast was wonderful. The ceremony was wonderful. And both Bertie and Elizabeth were treasuring every ounce of their day to their memory.

Eventually, it became time to cut the cake and celebrate their union in the way of sweet treats. For good measure, after releasing the knife onto the table, Bertie swept her into a passionate kiss, grateful that while it was not strictly proper, it was their special day and they no longer had to skirt the rules of propriety with one another.

Elizabeth deepened the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck as she played with the hair at the nape of his neck. They only then pulled apart, remembering that their families were watching them. Well…there would be time for privacy later on.

It swiftly became apparent that the reception was reaching its end and Bertie and Elizabeth's departure was imminent.

As the carriage was brought round to take them to their new home that they would inhabit as husband and wife, Elizabeth (with the help of her maid and Mary) into one of her day dresses from her trousseau. This one was of a mint green and it was one of her favourites. She had always favoured the colour green

As she descended the stairwell, arm in arm with Mary and approaching the doorway where Bertie stood in wait for her, she could not help the girlish smile that crept up her face and reached her eyes at the sight of the man who she could now call her husband. He smiled back at her as she came towards him. "You look beautiful, Lizzie," he said quietly.

"glad you are happy, you're really lucky to make her accept you, brother," Mary quipped.

Bertie rolled his eyes and shot a playful glare towards his sister.

"Well, I do not wish to know any details from later on, but I sincerely hope it is enjoyable," Mart added before she swept away, skirts swishing around her as she ventured down the corridor to gather the families to wave them off.

Elizabeth blushed a deep crimson at her friend’s words as she looked back at Bertie, who simply laughed. He held out his arm as he witnessed the mothers start to appear before they all were herded out of the house and the couple into the carriage.

LATER THAT NIGHT

When they had reached their new home in Bloomsbury, Elizabeth was introduced to the staff - notably the butler, Mister Dunwoody, and Violet (her maid)

She had bathed quickly, and perused the nightgowns Madame Lissett had made for her. She tried to retain her blush to light pink spots on her cheeks only when she saw just how sheer many of the garments were. Her eyes went to the pastel yellow one, her fingers brushing against the thin material but she eventually decided that their wedding night was not the occasion for yellow, no matter how much she knew her new husband would like to peel it from her body…

She shook her head free from those thoughts and picked up a greenish gown and stepped into it, before tying her robe around herself - well, she would keep the little modesty she could have for as long as she could…even if it was not the first time they would…

"Shush…" she hissed to herself. She then turned to Violet and gave a smile, "You may finish now, thank you for your help," she said to the girl.

But Miss—Madam, rather, your hair," Violet began to protest, gesturing to her updo.

"Do not worry, I shall do it myself," she replied with a smile, "Good night"

She watched as Violet went to the door, gave a small bob of a curtsy (she had tried to insist such formality was unnecessary long ago but her maid simply insisted back.) "Good night," the girl replied.

Elizabeth was not left alone for long but it felt like hours as she fiddled with the tie of her robe, pacing the room. It may not have been her and Bertie’s first experience of the marital bed, but in a way it was…as husband and wife, at least. She eventually settled and perched on the edge of the bed, as she carefully pulled her hair free from her coiffure, letting it fall down her back with such abandonment that she would ordinarily tie into a braid for sleeping in.

Would you do that tonight?

Her train of thoughts were broken by a light knock on the door and the voice of her husband through the oak. "Elizabeth? May I come in?" He asked.

Her instinct was to nod though of course he would not see. Instead of calling out however, she went to the door and opened it. He was frozen in front of her, hand raised as if he had only just knocked, or prepared to knock lightly again. He had discarded of his formal clothing, leaving him in only his shirt, trousers and boots. His gaze drifted over her form and she gulped suddenly as his gaze then met hers.

"You…you look amazing," he said, his voice hoarse.

Elizabeth pulled at the sleeves of her robe, as she stepped aside to let him enter the room. Which he did - and closed the door behind him.

"Thank you…" she said quietly.

Bertie could tell she was nervous and he had to admit, so was he. But this was not the first time they would lie with one another. But even so, he wanted to make sure she was comfortable and that if she did not wish to, they did not have to do anything that night.

"If you do not wish to…" he started, noticing her nerves, "I would never force you to…what I am trying to say is, we do not need to do anything tonight—"

"Kiss me," she blurted out.

The command came as a surprise but he did not need to be told twice. He came towards her in two long strides, cupping her face in his hands as he pressed his lips to hers. He felt her hands grab onto the collar of his shirt, fisting into the material as she pushed back into the kiss. He deepened it, teasing at the corners of her lips and she parted for him, allowing him to slip his tongue inside, to dance with her own.

He walked her backwards, kissing her still and his hands travelled down, feeling for the tie of her robe. He found it and parted their kiss only to pull on it, as if like opening her like a present. He kept her gaze as he slipped the outer garment from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

His gaze grew heated and darkened as he looked over her form. "God…" he breathed, "You are breathtaking."

Elizabeth looked up at him, keeping her gaze fixed on his as she reached forward, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing over his head. Bertie instinctively started to fist into the sheer fabric of her nightgown but she shook her head. "You first," she whispered, her nerves not so present in the face of her lust. And her lust was most certainly present. Her eyes, usually a bright blue, were now dark and dilated as they looked back at him.

Her fingers moved lower, reaching blindly for the fastenings of his trousers. In her determination to keep her eyes on his, she palmed over where he was already hard, and he let out a most guttural groan.

Her nerves seemed to come back as she withdrew her hands quickly, but he reached out, taking her hands in his own. "That was not bad, but let me help you," he told her

"Okay," she said, her voice barely a whisper. She watched as he removed his boots quickly, then taking her hand in his own again, guided hers to the fastenings and she made fast work, pushing his trousers down so he could step out and be truly bared to her. She took hold of his shoulders then, turning them so that he was the one up against the bed and pushed him down onto the mattress.

He held himself up on his elbows as she climbed up to hover above him, her hair falling past her shoulders and tickling his torso slightly when she leaned down to kiss him again. One hand held her at her waist, keeping the kiss, while the other caressed her hair

He was painfully aroused but at the same time, possessed of a strange sense of calm. This dance had ceased to be about him, or her, it was about them, and god… the way she was taking command was enough to make any green boy spend early if he was not so calmed by the feel of her luscious curves in his arms.

In one swift motion, he bucked up against her hips and switched their positions so that she was the one on her back and he above her. His hands took fistfuls of her gown and slid upwards, tantalisingly slow as his fingers brushed against the skin of her thighs, then her hips and up the sides of her torso.

As each part of her body was exposed to him, he peppered her skin with kisses. Her legs, her hips, her abdomen, her breasts. He knew she was self conscious about her stomach in particular, so made sure to make her know how much he worshipped her. Body and soul. Every inch.

Eventually, he was able to pull the gown over her head and he pressed his lips to hers again. One hand ventured lower still, his lips still keeping her quiet amidst his kisses as his hand travelled down, down, down.

He parted from her, holding her gaze as he traced down the inside of her thighs, pushing her legs further apart so that he could kneel between them. His fingers pushed up further, until he was touching her there.

"Bertie!" She gasped, as she bucked off the bed and against where his fingers stroked her. He found her spot, rubbing gently in such a way that made her squirm and ache for more. He continued as he kissed her again and when his lips were against hers, he slid one finger inside.

She grasped onto his shoulders, her gasps muffled by his deepening kisses all the while he pleasured her.

He added another finger, pushing deeper inside of her and she could feel her core tightening all the while. Until it broke, and she let go against his touch. Her hands slipped around his neck, tickling the hair at his nape as she clung onto him, pulling him closer. "Bertie…" she whispered, as he withdrew his fingers, leaving her feeling rather hollow, "I need you."

He smirked at her as he positioned himself and he held her sweetly as he pushed himself in. She was no longer such an innocent, but still, he wanted to make sure she was ready. He looked at her, waiting - trying to keep his patience.

"Move," she moaned as she pulled his body somehow even closer to her own.

He did. He started off gentle, then his own desire combined with her impulsive meeting of each of his thrusts sped him up into a pace that she matched just as easily.

It was not long until he was able to watch her reach her climax, and he was able to hold back for just enough to see her scream his name and tremble beneath him. He smiled, and with a final thrust and a passionate kiss, he came, spilling his seed deep inside her. When he came back down, he collapsed against her, rolling to the side and bringing her into his arms as he pulled the sheets over them.

"My beloved and dear wife, I love you so much," he whispered as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

Elizabeth giggled, glancing up at him, meeting his gaze. "And I love you, my husband" she replied.

She then rested her head against his chest, one hand absently tracing the hair that lay there before they both succumbed to their slumber, tangled in one another’s arms.

.

.

.

.

I know, a lot of "Mary" kahsjsja bye

#king george vi #queen mother #queen elizabeth the queen mother #fanfic #love #royal couple #wedding

[ginandoldlace]

On 5th April 1860, the confirmation of Queen Victoria's second son, Prince Alfred, took place at Windsor Castle.

Queen Victoria’s journal:

“Saw dear Affie for a moment. He did not come to breakfast. — Afterwards we walked with the visitors, Alice, Bertie & the little girls down to St. George's Chapel & showed them the beautiful monument of dear Aunt Gloucester, which is now finished, & with which they were greatly delighted. Fine, but a very high wind. — Dressing, I, in a striped blue satin dress, Alice, in lilac & the little girls in green. We all assembled at 12 in the Audience Room, dear Mama & Marie L. joining us. Albert then fetched up Affie, who was in his uniform, & proceeded to the Chapel, we & Affie going in first. Everything just as at the 3 previous Confirmations, with the exception of Mr Onslow being within the altar rails. The Bishop of Chester, as Clerk of the Closet, stood behind me. The service was very impressive, & dear Affie was much impressed & overcame when I kissed him & pressed his dear beautiful face between my hands. A very fine Chorale "Oh, happy bond that seals my vows" was sung by the St. George's Choir, & the Arch Bishop's Charge was very good & to the purpose. After the service was over we talked to the Company & then went into the King's Room, where all Affie's presents were laid out. We gave him a fine clock, a seal, a telescope, &c, & Mama a fine watch chain. At ¼ to 2 we all sat down to luncheon, including dear Mama. The Baby appeared, looking a great duck. Afterwards we took leave of all our guests. — Took a walk with Affie. — Received a telegram from Victor, saying his father was better, but he had been almost despaired of. — Saw Major Cowell, to whom we gave a fine silver vase, & Mr Onslow (whom I like so much) a silver inkstand. — We dined alone with our 3 children, & afterwards when Alice & Affie were gone, had a long talk with Bertie, whom we found very sensible & right minded, with good & right feelings. Thus ended this important day. —“

[missmarymaywindsor]

among her daughters-in-law alice duchess of gloucester, queen mother aka duchess of york, princess marina duchess of kent.

with whom she had the best relationship?

i know she disliked simposon duchess of windsor

Hi @abigaaal !

You are certainly correct! I think we can all agree without a shred of doubt that QM did NOT like Wallis Simpson!

As for the rest of her daughters-in-law I do believe she liked and got on well with all of them. I know Elizabeth and Alice referred to QM as ‘darling Mama’ though I have not seen Marinas letters, and I think referring to your mother-in-law as ‘mama’ in such high society circles was fairly common. I know Princess Mary also referred to her own M-I-L in such fashion, as did QM with Queen Alexandra.

From what I have read, my opinion is that Alice of Gloucester was her favourite, followed by Elizabeth then Marina - however I think the margin between all of them was very small. She had things in common with all them though I think she found Alice the most down-to-earth.

She had certainly known Elizabeth the longest as she married Bertie in 1923, and Alice and Marina didn’t appear on the scene until the early to mid 1930s respectively. Elizabeth as I understand it was the undisputed favourite of George V, though this may be because he died so early into the marriages of his two younger sons. Though in the days Bertie was proposing to Elizabeth (3 times!! so yes I do mean days - if not months and years) QM as I understand was very very keen for Elizabeth to say yes as she thought she’d be a fantastic match for Bertie. And much later on she knew undoubtedly that Elizabeth would be a wonderful Queen.

We know Alice and QM were close only I think because of the memoir written by Alice (which is FABULOUS btw - if you haven’t read it I would absolutely recommend it). Marina however doesn’t have the luxury of being as well written about unlike her sisters-in-law, with one being a Queen of England and the other as I’ve mentioned writing her own story, though by all means Alice was still discreet. So when it comes to Marina I’m afraid we know a little less about her relationship with QM. I also have to confess I’m not much of an expert when it comes to Marina, if anyone else has any light to shed on it please do comment!

Ultimately, I think she liked each D-I-L for who they were and how happy they made her sons (and of course they were of the appropriate marrying variety unlike Simpson).

Hope this helps! ♥️

#ask me anything #british royal family #brf #queen mary #george v #mary of teck #queen elizabeth the queen mother #Queen mother #princess marina #Duchess of kent #Duchess of Gloucester #princess alice #alice Duchess of Gloucester #Marina Duchess of kent

[for-valour]

sorry for the following solemn question, was there any story the day bertie died? the only one i that i know is that lilibet didn't know until hours later when philip broke the news to her because they were in kenya. what about queen mary, queen mum, and margaret? this come to my mind after watching https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qHXla__FEiY the way the queen mum actress runs while crying his name just broke my heart.

Thanks for your question - and really sorry it took me ages to get back to you 😣. I've written a little bit about how Margot, May and Elizabeth were all affected by Bertie's death, and I hope I'm answering this correctly!

Princess Margaret Princess Margaret was at Sandringham when her father died. She recalled hearing him laugh 'heartily at a joke he had just heard' and then go happily to bed at 10:30pm. When she learned of his passing in the morning, she was absolutely distraught. It is said that she was even prescribed sedatives to help her sleep at night, and Christopher Warwick wrote (in his 2017 biography, Princess Margaret: A Life of Contrasts) that she would frequently weep and cry out, 'Why did he have to die so young?'

A couple of months after Bertie’s death, Margaret wrote to a family friend, 'He was such a wonderful person, the very heart and centre of our happy family. Everything seemed to come from him and no-one could have had a more devoted and thoughtful father. He was always so very much alive so that at this lovely Easter time he doesn’t feel so very far away and one is comforted by all thoughts of happiness for him and his love for us all.' Even the fact that Margaret’s own funeral was held on the 50th anniversary of Bertie's death also shows just how close she held her father in her heart - right until the very end.

The Queen Mother When The Queen Mother was praised for her courage in getting through her husband’s funeral without crying, she replied: 'Not in private.' In fact, she was so heartbroken after his death that she travelled all the way to Caithness in Scotland to be allowed to mourn alone (I've actually been there and it is *very* remote). This was also the time when she discovered Castle Mey, which she bought to escape to ‘occasionally when life becomes hideous’ - which I imagine was linked to those dark days when she felt the loss of Bertie all over again.

She said in a letter to Queen Mary: 'I flew to his room and thought he was in a deep sleep, he looked so peaceful — and then I realised what had happened.' She also further confided in her mother-in-law, 'I know that you loved Bertie dearly, and he was my whole life, and one can only be deeply thankful for the utterly happy years we had together. He was so wonderfully thoughtful and loving, and I don’t believe he ever thought of himself at all… I cannot bear to think of Lilibet, so young to bear such a burden — I do feel for you so darling Mama — to lose two dear sons, and Bertie still so young and so precious — it is almost more than one can bear…'

Queen Mary Having already lost two sons (Prince John at the age of 13, and Prince George in an RAF plane crash just before his 40th birthday), the death of a third child, her beloved Bertie whom she was so close to and so proud of, deeply traumatised her. Queen Mary said to Princess Marie Louise: 'I have lost three sons through death, but I have never been privileged to be there to say a last farewell to them.' Mary herself also remarked that she spent a lot of time talking to her daughter-in-law (the grieving Queen Mother) 'of much that was in our poor tattered hearts.'

Queen Mary’s health was already struggling in the early 1950s, and it wouldn't be surprising that she suffered further after King George VI's death. The sombre photograph of her, Queen Elizabeth and The Queen Mother in mourning dress was taken whilst they were stood at King’s Cross Station in London, awaiting the arrival of Bertie’s coffin from Sandringham for the ‘Lying-in-State' at Westminster Hall. Contrary to popular belief it was not taken on the day of the funeral itself, which she was too unwell (and perhaps too distressed?) to attend.

Sources: Princess Margaret: A Life of Contrasts, by Christopher Warwick. The Queen Mother: The Official Biography, by William Shawcross. Photos: Getty, National Portrait Gallery.

#king george vi #george vi #god save the king #the british royal family #the monarchy #the british monarchy #the royal family #albert duke of york #the queen mother #queen elizabeth the queen mother #princess margaret #queen mary #queen mary of teck #the king's speech #the house of windsor #long live the king #the british empire #queen elizabeth ii