Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1963)

r The Queen of Hollywood tears the town apart in her national * 1 bestseller THE WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT Photoplay’s Columnist promised toted all. She has — and her smash hit bestseller is the wildest surprise of the year. Eddie Fisher, Elizabeth Taylor, Doris Day, Marlon Brando, Elvis Presley, and Grace Kelly are among the cast of hundreds. And you’ve never read anything about them that compares with The Whole Truth and Nothing But. No surprise at all Hedda’s book became the country’s top bestseller less than 6 weeks after publication. The only surprise is if you haven’t read it. ‘’Simply superb,” writes the book reviewer of the Boston Herald. “Better, by far, than her daily column, for here, after all, she can say so much that had to be expunged from the papers. Indeed, she could not be more candid ... A wonderful, wonderful book about a town that once was wonderful.” Better get your copy now — before someone else tells you the best stories. To any bookstore or to DOUBLEDAY & COMPANY, INC. Dept. 3-WK-O, Garden City, New York Rush me a copy of THE WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT today. I’m enclosing my check or money order for $4.95. 1 understand that you will pay all postage charges, and that I may return the book within 10 days for prompt full refund if not completely satisfied that Hedda Hopper’s book is the best inside story of Hollywood I’ve ever read. CITY ZONE STATE J change my feelings for you.” Kingly love. Bryanston Court. She tells David that there’s another woman in Ernest’s life, and that she will seek a divorce. The King arranges for a solicitor to handle the details. The garden at Fort Belvedere. David says that he’s invited Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin to dinner at York House and insists she be present. “It’s got to be done,” he explains. “Sooner or later my Prime Minister must meet my future wife.” She pleads with him, “David, you mustn’t talk this way. The idea is impossible. They’d never let you.” But he replies, “I’m well aware of all that, but rest assured, I will manage it somehow.” York House. The dinner with the Prime Minister goes well. Later, Baldwin admits he was “intrigued” by the encounter. But Mrs. Baldwin’s comments, according to one writer, were less favorable: “For her, and for women like her throughout the Empire, Mrs. Simpson had stolen the Fairy Prince.” Aboard the yacht “ Nahlin .” She joins David for a summer cruise along the Dalmatian Coast, Greece, the Aegean Isles and the Bosporus. At a tiny fishing village on the Adriatic, thousands of peasants sing to them of the love of a King for the woman of his choice. The King’s study at the Fort. David shows her a letter from his private secretary, Alexander Hardinge. It makes three points: 1) the British press won’t keep silent much longer on the subject of his friendship with Mrs. Simpson; 2) the Cabinet may resign, a general election would then have to take place, and the chief issue would be the King’s personal affairs. This would cause inestimable damage to the Crown. Mrs. Simpson must go abroad without any further delay. “I’m going to marry you!” She tells the King that she’ll leave the country immediately, but he asserts, “You’ll do no such thing. I won’t have it. They can’t stop me. On the throne or off. I’m going to marry you. I’m going to send for Mr. Baldwin to see me at the Palace tomorrow. I’m going to tell him that if the country won’t approve our marrying, I’m ready to go.” In the months that followed, David remained steadfast to his purpose: either he would reign with her as his wife — and by his side — or he would not reign at all. When he was with her or when he was exposed to public view, he was always calm, firm and courageous. But in private, alone, he suffered terribly. One night, according to writer Pierre Berton, the King walked to his room at the Fort with his legal adviser, Sir Walter Monckton. “Well, I’ll leave you now. Sir,” Monckton said. “No, don’t go, Walter,” the King beseeched. “Do you mind just sitting here until I fall asleep?” The solicitor sat in silence as the King prepared for bed. Then suddenly David buried his face in his hands and began to cry. On December 11, 1936, the inevitable day of abdication came. Over the radio she heard David’s voice saying the words that she’d hoped and prayed he’d never have to say: “I now quit altogether public life.” Then, although he was officially address ing himself to his half-billion subjects, David spoke directly to her: “You must believe me when I tell you I have found it impossible to carry the heavy burden of responsibility and discharge my duties as King as I would wish to do, without the help and support of the woman I love.” Tears flowed from her eyes as she heard these words, Somehow, part of a speech from Shakespeare’s “Richard II” — Richard’s words to his subjects when resigning the Crown — echoed in her ears: . . . Throw away respect, Tradition, form, ceremonious duty, For you have but mistook me all this while: I live with bread like you, feel want, Taste grief, need friends. . . . and then an even more bitter echo — from Lord Byron — pointing up poignantly the tremendous sacrifice David was making: Man’s love is of man’s life a thing apart, ’Tis woman’s whole existence. David had given up the throne for her, but he had not realized that the bonds tying him to his family would also be cut — irrevocably. “The drawbridges are going up behind me. I have taken you into a void,” he told her as the grim realization of their isolation was made clear to him. On May 12, after he listened to the broadcast of his brother’s coronation, he turned to her and said, “You must have no regrets — I have none. This much I know: what I know of happiness is forever associated with you.” On the day she and David were married, there were no members of his family at the wedding. They even tried to stop the Reverend R. A. Jardine from officiating at the ceremony by revoking his license, but he ignored their action and performed the marriar anyway. Many years later, in 1956, the Windsors were interviewed on television. David said, “We feel that there is no more wasteful or foolish or frustrating exercise than trying to penetrate the fiction of what might have been. But I do know what has been in the years since we were married. They have been rewarding years, years of great happiness, years of no regrets, and years when we have preferred to look into the future. . . “Don’t you remember,” his wife chimed in, “we always said we would never talk about what might have been? In fact, I think we arranged that pact on our honeymoon.” “It is a vow,” David nodded, “we have never broken.” More recently, when asked by Elsa Maxwell (after he’d just returned from a trip to England) if he’d enjoyed going home, he answered softly, “Why, Elsa, home to me is where the Duchess is.” But once in a while the past comes bubbling up, as it did recently when the Windsors were dinner guests on Long Island and the conversation got around to the Profumo case, involving the Minister for War and Christine Keeler, Britain’s new “Cabinetmaker.” “Where Profumo made his mistake,” sounded off one guest, “was to have lied to Parliament about his romance. That lie cost him his job.” Edward dissented. “I told the truth,” the ex-King of England said wryly. And then he and his wife produced fixed smiles on their faces, and someone 90