Contents
Cover
Title page
June 1st 1939
June 21st
June 22nd
June 23rd
June 27th
Later
July 15th
July 22nd
July 23rd
July 24th
July 25th
July 31st
August 1st
August 22nd
August 25th
August 26th
August 29th
September 3rd
September 4th
September 5th
September 6th
Later
October 1st
October 13th
October 14th
Later
November 10th
November 11th
November 19th
November 28th
December 2nd
December 4th
December 7th
December 10th
December 16th
December 27th
December 31st
January 15th 1940
January 19th
February 7th
February 12th
March 4th
April 12th
April 21st
April 22nd
May 14th
May 20th
June 5th
June 6th
June 9th
June 10th
July 15th
July 18th
August 15th
August 17th
September 8th
September 12th
September 16th
September 24th
October 1st
October 8th
October 14th
October 24th
November 2nd
November 16th
December 18th
December 22nd
January 11th 1941
March 3rd
April 19th
April 26th
May 4th
July 23rd
July 27th
September 3rd
September 8th
September 15th
October 18th
October 29th
November 3rd
December 5th
December 6th
December 9th
December 12th
December 15th
December 16th
December 18th
December 23rd
December 24th
January 10th 1942
February 11th
March 14th
April 14th
April 24th
Later
April 26th
May 3rd
Later
July 5th
July 26th
August 5th
August 26th
October 20th
October 28th
November 24th
December 4th
January 7th 1943
January 22nd
February 27th
March 5th
April 22nd
May 5th
May 12th
May 20th
June 4th
July 3rd
July 18th
July 30th
August 14th
September 11th
October 15th
November 23rd
November 30th
December 3rd
December 5th
December 19th
December 28th
January 11th 1944
February 8th
Later
February 29th
March 16th
Later
April 3rd
April 24th
May 15th
June 10th
June 14th
June 19th
June 28th
July 3rd
July 5th
July 23rd
August 25th
September 9th
September 20th
October 5th
October 26th
November 4th
November 8th
November 27th
December 5th
January 24th 1945
February 4th
February 11th
March 3rd
March 4th
March 7th
March 20th
April 13th
Later
April 30th
May 1st
May 5th
Later
May 6th
May 7th
Later
May 8th, VE Day
May 9th
May 25th
June 6th
July 5th
July 26th
August 2nd
August 5th
August 7th
August 10th
August 14th
August 16th
August 18th
September 3rd
September 16th
October 26th
November 17th
December 23rd
January 2nd 1946
January 3rd
January 24th
March 1st
March 26th
April 19th
May 25th
June 3rd
July 26th
August 9th
August 10th
August 12th
August 19th
August 26th
August 28th
September 4th
September 7th
September 11th
October 27th
November 1st
November 5th
December 2nd
December 11th
January 14th 1947
January 16th
January 21st
February 2nd
Our visit to South Africa
Going home
May 14th
May 15th
May 24th
June 13th
July 1st
July 2nd
July 9th
Afterword
My Stroy – a series
Copyright
June 1st 1939
This is the first ever diary of Her Royal Highness, Princess Margaret Rose.
Sometimes I wake early and can’t get back to sleep, because my head’s too full of things I want to do. So I thought it would be nice to have something to do that doesn’t make a noise. I’m always getting told off for too much noise.
I have this chunky notebook with a photo of me and my sister, Lilibet, on the front. There are no dates in it, so it’s not a proper diary, but that’s good. It means I don’t have to write in it every day. I get a bit fed up with things I have to do. There are far too many of those.
Ruby and Bobo, our nursery maids, and Allah, our nanny, are fast asleep. So is my sister.
Lilibet is Her Royal Highness, Princess Elizabeth, and she is a Very Important Person, because one day she’ll be the Queen of England. Poor her, that’s what I say.
She’ll be a very good queen, because she’s a very good person. She’s sensible and obedient, and everyone considers her responsible and serious.
She’s not a bit like me!
June 21st
Oh dear, I’m not very organized about this diary business. It’s weeks since I started it. But while Mummy and Papa have been away in Canada and America, our governess, Crawfie, has kept us so busy. Lilibet thinks Crawfie does it so we won’t miss Mummy and Papa too much, but they’ve been gone more than six weeks. That’s a long time to be without your moth
er and father. But when your parents are the King and Queen of England, you must expect sad times and just keep smiling. It isn’t always easy.
We have lessons, of course, and walks, but we’ve also had lots of outings to keep us cheerful. The best ones were a boat trip on the River Thames, visits to the Royal Tournament and the Royal Mint (we were presented with some special coins), and some glorious picnics.
The most exciting outing was a ride on an underground train! Lilibet and I call it the tube, because that’s what the people who use it every day call it. I tried to pretend I was a working lady, but it was difficult because there were policemen with us, and photographers kept calling out. Crawfie was very proper and just walked us straight through the crowd. I was allowed to hold my own ticket.
But there’s another exciting outing planned for early tomorrow! Mummy and Papa are sailing home and we are to sail to meet them!
I can’t wait.
June 22nd
I’m supposed to be resting for ten minutes while Mummy and Papa say goodbye to the captain of this ship. It’s called Empress of Britain, which is sort of what Mummy is!
This morning Lilibet and I sailed on a Royal Navy destroyer called HMS Kempenfelt. It was so exciting when at last we saw Mummy and Papa waving to us. We were so happy to see them again – so happy I almost forgot to curtsey! I’m glad I remembered, because lots of people were watching. Mummy always says it’s important for us to behave properly in public. Lilibet never makes a mistake, but then, she always behaves properly, even in private.
When we were alone, we had such hugs! Papa said I’ve grown, which I’m pleased about. It’s not nice being the smallest person in the palace.
Everyone talked at once, and then it was lunchtime. The ship’s saloon was decorated with dozens of balloons. It was so bright and happy. And that was just how I felt inside – full of balloons!
The captain took us on to the bridge as we sailed towards the harbour. The bridge is where they drive the ship. It looked very complicated, but I didn’t have a chance to examine all the dials and buttons. Papa drew Lilibet and me forward so we could join them in waving to all the people who had come to welcome him and Mummy home.
It looks as if every person in Britain has come to Southampton!
Next we’re travelling to London by train.
June 23rd
Crawfie came and spoke to Allah this morning. I was so tired I could hardly open my eyes.
Then Allah whispered, ‘No lessons this morning, Margaret.’ She’s allowed to call me ‘Margaret’ in private. ‘Her Majesty told Miss Crawford you need to rest.’
I suddenly remembered yesterday. I leapt out of bed and ran to shake Lilibet. ‘Wake up! Let’s go and see Mummy and Papa!’
She sat up. ‘May we, Allah?’
Allah nodded. ‘His Majesty sent a message to say he can’t wait to see his girls!’
What fun we had! It was just like in the old days in our house in Piccadilly, before Papa became King and we moved to Buckingham Palace. Lilibet’s too grown up for pillow fights (she’s thirteen), but I’m not!
It’s so lovely to have us four all together. Papa couldn’t stop grinning as we rode home in the carriage from the station yesterday. I was silly to think that every person in Britain was in Southampton. There were thousands more on the London pavements. Mummy said her arm ached from waving. I don’t know how she manages to keep smiling without stopping. I can’t. It makes my face ache. Also, Lilibet and I rode facing backwards, which always makes me feel peculiar, what with the carriage bouncing and the horses’ heads bobbing as the guardsmen ride alongside. Then it was upstairs for a balcony appearance.
Before we stepped on to the balcony, Lilibet said, ‘Remember not to push to the front, Margaret. The people have come to see Mummy and Papa, not us.’
She shoved me in the right direction. Helpful, but irritating. I got my own back by being last to leave the balcony, and turning to give the people a final wave. Lilibet kept smiling, but I think she was annoyed.
June 27th
Lilibet knows about my diary. She came up behind me while I was lying on the floor, writing. She didn’t say anything, and she’s never mentioned it. See? She’s such a good person. I’d have asked about it if it had been hers, and I know my fingers would have been itching to get hold of it. But not Lilibet. She tries so hard to behave well, and she’d think it was sneaky to take a peek.
But still, I’ll keep it hidden. These are my true thoughts, and I’m sure there’ll be some I’d rather people didn’t see.
I must change now for swimming. We’re entering some races at the Swimming Bath Club in Mayfair on Thursday. It’s fun there, because we swim with other children. We’re usually allowed time to just mess around, as Ruby calls it, and it’s so much better when there’s more than two of us. Lilibet says I shouldn’t grumble about us being alone, because we’re fortunate to have our own swimming pool here in the palace. Most children only go to the public baths – if they’re lucky. I didn’t think about that until she said it.
Later
We did really well, considering we’re not used to racing. Mummy presented the prizes, of course, and there were lots of photographs. All those flashing lights! I got a silver cup and Lilibet got a shield. We were going to put them on the nursery mantelpiece, but Papa said they must have pride of place in the drawing room. He’s such a darling.
Wouldn’t it be lovely if every country had a king like Papa? I feel sorry for the German people. They don’t have a king or queen. Instead they have a leader called Herr Adolf Hitler. Although Mummy and Papa don’t discuss him much, one of the footmen, who we really like, said, ‘I expect His Majesty will talk about nothing else but Herr Hitler when he meets the prime minister today.’ He was taking the dogs for a run and Lilibet and I tagged along. Not everybody likes our corgis, because they can be snappy, but he does. He takes a ball and plays with them. That’s why we like him. I call him Buttons, because he looks just like Buttons in my Cinderella book.
Lilibet said, ‘Herr Hitler’s a bad man, isn’t he?’ and Buttons said, ‘He’s bad for Germany, that’s for sure, Ma’am, and he’s bad news for us, he is. That’s if there’s a war.’
War. Ugh. Horrid word.
After tea, Lilibet and I went upstairs to groom our horses. We keep them on the nursery landing. Some are on wheels, and some stand on their own four legs. They all have saddles and bridles. We groom them all every evening, and feed them and give them water. Well, not really, of course, just pretend. We know how to do it properly, because we watch the grooms look after our ponies when we’ve been riding.
Actually, Lilibet sometimes sits on the floor with her back against the wall and cuddles Dookie or Jane or one of the other dogs. She doesn’t play much these days. It’s because she’s almost grown up. She even wears silk stockings, instead of socks. I’m glad I don’t, because I’d rip them to shreds in no time. But what fun to be grown up. Parties, music and dancing, and lovely clothes, too. And visits to the ballet!
July 15th
We’re off to sea again! Papa says the royal yacht is almost as old as he is, and this is probably our last chance to sail in her. We’re going to visit the Royal Naval College at Dartmouth, in Devon, where Papa did part of his naval training.
July 22nd
We’ve had a lovely trip so far, except that Lilibet and I are expected to carry on with lessons while we’re travelling. Honestly, we never get a holiday from work. Lilibet groaned when she realised it was arithmetic first (she didn’t let Crawfie hear), so I decided to waste time. ‘Crawfie,’ I said, ‘I simply must tell you about my dream last night!’
The dream was actually quite dull, and I can hardly remember it. But I did what Crawfie always tells me to do, and used my imagination. She kept saying, ‘Oh, Margaret, do stop,’ and, ‘Margaret, don’t be ridiculous,’ but I know she enjoyed my tale. Lilibet struggled not t
o laugh, because she knew what I was up to. It worked. We wasted nearly half the lesson!
Later on some of the officers taught us a dance called the Lambeth Walk. The best bit was that every time the words went ‘… doing the Lambeth Walk’, we all had to shout ‘Oy!’ They said I picked up the steps really quickly. I think Lilibet did, too. When they taught us another dance, the Palais Glide, we joined together and danced in a row. It was more difficult than the Lambeth Walk. Lilibet did better than me because she concentrates more than I do, but we both ended up laughing at the way our legs kept getting muddled.
The ship sailed into the River Dart, and we moored near Dartmouth Castle. Our ship, the Victoria and Albert, is surrounded all the time by dozens of sailing and rowing boats. They look like toys compared to our ship. They’re full of friendly people, waving and cheering. Dartmouth is a pretty village, with painted cottages clinging to the hillside. I wanted to leap ashore and run up the hill, but we had to be received officially at the castle’s quay. Lots of hands to shake. As usual, I was the last in the shaking-hands line. Papa’s first, being the King, then Mummy, then Lilibet – partly because she’s older than me, but especially because she’s the heir to the throne. As I said, she’s a Very Important Person. I’m just number two in line for the throne.
Tomorrow we visit the college. Papa’s second cousin, Uncle Dickie – he’s really Lord Louis Mountbatten – is dining on board tonight.
July 23rd
What a lovely day! It’s been so much fun. Lilibet says it’s been one of the nicest days she’s ever had in her life. (And I know why!!!)
As it’s Sunday, we were supposed to attend a service in the college chapel, but Uncle Dickie sent a message saying that Lilibet and I shouldn’t go, because some of the cadets have mumps. I once saw someone with mumps, and it wasn’t a pretty sight. He had great swellings each side of his face, and Mummy said the poor boy felt really ill. I don’t want that. What’s worse is you have to stay indoors for absolutely ages, resting, which would be ghastly.
So off Mummy and Papa went, escorted by some very smart cadets. They’re young men who are training to become naval officers.
Lilibet and I were taken to the Captain’s House to wait for our parents. The captain’s the person in charge of the college. His family are the Dalrymple-Hamiltons, who we haven’t met before.