So, where did the Windsors go?

 They fled.  Off into the land of luxury and empty promises.  

So much for the happily ever after the fairy tales promised a young Wallis.  So much for David's dream of living forever with his love.  Do you know the one thing he never factored into his equation? That once you have that kind of power and lose it, you spend the rest of your life trying in vain to fill the vacuum created by its' absence.

So, what was next? They weren't hurting for money, as the Duke was notoriously penurious (but not with his beloved Wallis!).

Jewels.

And those were just two pieces in her collection, which was later valued in the millions, when it was finally auctioned off at Christie's. So! When fairy tales fail, try a little diamond therapy!

Fashion.

Wallis was obviously not a beauty, but she sure knew how to make the most of her assets.

What about the Duke?  Get a load of these images:

That last suit ... um ... well .... well ...???

It must have been some kind of fashion statement.  Now, what kind of fashion? I really don't know.

👍

So, apart from Harry Winston's jewelry designs, and fashion, the Windsors pursued pleasure.  They became a part of what most people called the "cafe society".  But, it truly was a group of wealthy people who traveled restlessly, seeking the next party; the next 'oh my god !' Event.  (With a capital E).  Can you imagine a life without purpose? Of any kind? Don't get me wrong folks.  I'd love to be independently wealthy.  But, to remain idle for the rest of my life? I'd rather play Russian Roulette with an Uzi sub nine millimeter.  

Their entire life became rather meaningless.  Now, I know that some of you are thinking:  but, they had each other! It was true love! Was it? I don't know.  I do think that the Duke lived for his Duchess.  I do think that he remained faithful to her, which was extraordinary after his sexual adventures.  

But, what of Wallis? Was she ... happy? Was she fulfilled? Well, she certainly had financial security with her Duke.  She certainly enjoyed notoriety for the rest of her life.  But, did she enjoy it? Was she fulfilled?  I would have to say no way in hell.  

Recently, letters of Wallis have been found, which place a different complexion on her relationship with the Duke:

I feel tired and licked by it all--I can't think of what sort of mess I am leaving for--I am sorry for myself--I am sorry for the King--I hate stuffy British minds and last but not least--I don't understand myself which is the cause of all the misery.  Give me courage.  I'm so lonely 215 Tuesday.  Love, Wallis.

This letter was written to Ernest, during her stay in Ipswich, prior to her divorce. 

In another letter, Wallis offers Ernest this sentimental thought:

Wherever you are, you can be sure that never a day goes by without some hours' thought of you and again in my prayers at night.  With all my love, Wallis.

This letter was written after her marriage to David.  

So, what is the truth? I think that Wallis was backed into a corner.  I think that she seized on the only life line available--and that was marriage to the newly created Duke of Windsor.  

They were politely encouraged to settle outside of England, and so they did, eventually living in a Villa on the French Riviera.  Poor old exiled things.  I feel so sad for them!! I'm beside myself with grief for their empty emotionally impoverished lives devoid of purpose and meaning!

No, really.

Really!

Man, life really sucks in Cap D'Antibes.

Ye Gods, these poor people! A fate worse than death!

And yet? 

And yet.  

What is a life filled with pleasure, and no motivation to get up in the morning except to wear the right clothes, and walk another one of your pug dogs? Honestly, folks, not one you would probably want to live.  You have to remember, that he was once an emperor, and now he was just a sad little ex-pat, living with his paramour, and going to a never ending series of parties, soirees, and tee times (even though he was a terrible player, by all accounts).

And, then came WW2, temporarily ending this French idyll.  The Duke was given a job with the British Government, acting as a liaison with the French army, and when he grew bored with that, he didn't do it anymore.  Honestly, he decided he liked Paris better--at least until Germany invaded, and then like it or lump it, he and his Duchess had to haul ass to Spain.

Unfortunately for the Duchess, she'd had to leave in such a hurry, that she was compelled to leave certain essential items behind.  Like these really cool sheets (sorry..."linens") she just couldn't live without.  Do you know, that when they eventually reached the relative safety of Portugal, she actually arranged to send one of her maids back to Nazi-infested Paris to get her goddamned flats and pillow cases? Those must have been, life, 5000 thread count, or something.  Hey, man, that kind of thing is important! Who cares that the world is blowing itself up? One simply must have a good soft bed with familiar sheets.

Jesus.

So, where did these entitled little exiles-on-the-run live? Well, they stayed with a wealthy pro-German businessman in his mansion, sunning themselves in Portugal, while the English government flailed around, figuring out what to do with them.  While the Windsors were there, records indicate that the German high command hatched a bizarre plot, codenamed "operation Willi," to extricate the Duke from Portugal, and keep him in German-friendly territories.  After that, was it possible to make him a 'Nazi king'? We'll never know folks.  

But, what in the hell would the Brits do with their former king? Churchill and his brother Bertie finally found a solution-- of sorts-- to make the Duke governor of the Bahamas. So, further into obscurity go the two lovers.  The Bahamas! The Horror!

Oh.  Those poor, poor lovebirds, stuck sitting on a beach in the Caribbean, sipping an ice cold brewski, while the Allied stormed the beach at Normandy.  No, wait.  Not a brewski--they wouldn't have done that--make those Cosmopolitans and Martinis. 

Actually, their lives in the Bahamas were relatively quiet and pleasant.  Here the Duke could live with Wallis as his relative equal.  And, for a time, he did his job pretty well--at least until he got bored.  Usually, he left the paperwork for his aides, and went to play some more golf.  

However, there was one rather embarrassing crisis that occurred while David was governor, and this involved a prominent businessman by the name of Sir Harry Oakes, who was brutally and bizarrely murdered on July 8th, 1943.  Now, even today, this remains an unsolved case.  Remember, this was in the era prior to DNA, blood trace analysis, and Lazarium (the light show, not a forensic marvel).  

So, how was he murdered, you might ask? Ok, for the ghouls out there (and I am one of them), I'll share the grisly, albeit really strange details.  Harry was found, murdered in his bedroom.  Police thought that the murder had taken place shortly before, or shortly after midnight.  At first glance, his body had been burned after death, and then someone had strewn feathers (probably from one of the pillows) all over him.  Oh-kay.  Uh huh.  Sure.  No, that's not weird.  Later forensic analysis found that Oakes had been struck with a mining pick, AND an ice pick.  Ewwww.  And then, most likely to destroy evidence (?) someone had set his body on fire with pesticide as some kind of demented accelerant.  Again, ewwwww.

Nothing bizarre there, folks, just a straight up murder.  Uh huh.  Anyone who reads enough Agatha Christie, or watches enough procedural crime shows could tell you, that this was a crime of passion.

At first, the Duke as governor, tried to limit the press coverage of the crime, but to no avail.  Then, David called in American police from Miami (uh, why?), to investigate.  The detectives botched the job rather badly.  Their prime suspect was a man named Count Alfred de Maringy--who was also Oakes' son in law.  Apparently, there was bad blood between the two men, as Oakes suspected de Maringy of being an opportunist, who didn't love his daughter, only her considerable fortune.  Now, I believe there was truth in this.  After all, de Maringy had a long history of involvement with rich women, and had been married a couple of times prior to his relationship with Oakes' daughter.  

In due course of time, Alfred was tried for the murder of Harry Oakes.  After a lengthy trial, it was determined that shoddy police work, and fabricated evidence rendered a verdict in the proceedings impossible.  He was acquitted of all charges, and the case, as previously stated, remains unsolved.

Now, the whole debacle could have been avoided, had David simply allowed the Bahamian police to do their jobs.  After all, it was their own balliwick, so to speak.  But it didn't turn out that way, and he bungled it.  The affair was a great embarrassment for the British government, who didn't exactly need this kind of press smack dab in the middle of World War Two. Umm, I suppose the Duke had a tiny problem with race and nationality? Perhaps.

And, yet, in spite of the fact that the Duke hated paperwork, and couldn't really handle murder inquiries, he didn't do too badly--playing golf, and cutting ribbons, I mean.  The work was not at all challenging, and the people seemed to like him.  Heck, they could have remained there, but Wallis (and the Duke) found the Bahamas to be a "backwater," and they left as quickly as they could, as soon as the war was over, to return to their lives in France.  Not England? Nope.  The British government didn't want them living in the same country.  No nation may have two kings, even if one of them quit his job.

And, so, to Paris, and the Bois de Bourlogne.  Ah these poor wayward souls.  What trials! What tribulations! What luxury:

Not a bad little shack, was it?

I mean, just, well OMG.

Oh, Bessie Wallis.  The sacrifices you made!

Check out this short and lovely documentary on "The Other House of Windsor":

And, this truly was an end to the albeit abbreviated story of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor.  He died of throat cancer circa 1972, and she died a little over ten years later.  Actually, Wallis' life was pretty sad those last eleven years--she suffered increasingly from dementia (most likely Alzheimer's), and was bed ridden for much of this time.  It's also quite sad that her attendants and lawyer began to rip off furnishings and baubles from the estate, largely due to her incapacity.  After her death, her famous jewelry collection was auctioned off at Christies,' bringing in millions for charity.  Well, that was good, at any rate, right?

So, what do we conclude from this? Nothing major.  It's just a sad and rather bittersweet story, isn't it? And, it's also a lesson for me of how important it is to live with purpose, and creativity.  Did the Windsors have those things? I don't know.  I hope so.

For those of you who have a little more interest in the other side of the story, i.e. what happened to this couple in the aftermath of the abdication, let me recommend a wonderful documentary to you, produced by a grand nephew to the Duke:

This dates from 1996, but I still think it's one of the best films on "What happened to the Windsors?"