In June 1939, George VI and Queen Elizabeth headed to Canada and the United States. It was ostensibly just another state visit, but everyone involved in it knew that it was an occasion of enormous political, even historical, significance. With the threat of European war imminent, it was essential that American influence be brought to bear, courtesy of President Franklin D. Roosevelt, but there were numerous issues at hand. Firstly, most Americans supported neutrality rather than getting involved with what they perceived as an expensive, dangerous conflict that had nothing to do with them, and secondly the relatively new king — “Bertie” — was a nervous, uncertain monarch, cursed with a crippling stammer, who was not regarded as much of an ambassador for Britain. To make matters worse, virtually everyone openly regretted the abdication two and a half years earlier of his more charismatic brother, the Duke of Windsor.
By rights, the trip should have been disastrous. Yet it instead proved to be revelatory. Bertie and FDR cemented a warm friendship that led to the president aiding Britain far beyond the conventional bounds of neutrality at the outbreak of war, and, when the Japanese struck at Pearl Harbour, ensured that American support was fulsome and entirely committed. It is no exaggeration to suggest that the few days that the two men and their wives spent together at Roosevelt’s country home of Hyde Park, New York was vital in leading to this relationship. But why, exactly, did they get on so well?
Hampstead Theatre can punch considerably above its slender weight when it comes to new writing
Richard Nelson’s new play Springwood, based on his screenplay for the 2014 film Hyde Park on Hudson, attempts to answer this question, and does so with wit, economy and, in a quietly understated way, parallels the ongoing “special relationship” between monarchy and politicians. (Lest we forget, Donald Trump is a considerably bigger fan of the royal family than many of their subjects are.) Nelson, directing his own play after original choice Stanley Tucci had to drop out due to filming commitments, is not attempting to reinvent the wheel dramatically, but manages to construct an elegantly poised and incisive drama that showcases a series of excellent performances by a crack cast, and once again demonstrates that Hampstead Theatre can punch considerably above its slender weight when it comes to new writing.
The biggest name in the cast is the legendary Robert Lindsay, who essays a credible American accent and charisma to spare as FDR. He is portrayed as a paternal, warm figure, father to the nation and, when called upon, to the nervous, stuttering monarch in his midst, but also someone who is keenly aware of the demands of realpolitik, advising George VI that it will take a great deal of time and diplomacy to bring in the US behind Britain should war beckon. But the scene-stealer, perhaps surprisingly, is Andrew Havill as Bertie. Havill was in Hyde Park on Hudson, playing the journalist James Cameron, but here he is given full reign (pun fully intended) to delve into the insecurities and fears of the reluctant king. There is a striking moment where he shouts at his wife — Rebecca Night’s excellent Elizabeth — not to compare him to his brother, the man who gave up the throne, but rather than it seeming like a moment of rage, Havill skilfully suggests the monarch’s sense of fraudulence. Uneasy lies the head, and then some.
It says a lot for Nelson’s Rolls-Royce production that it can corral actors of the calibre of Jemma Redgrave (as Eleanor Roosevelt) and Rachel Pickup (as Roosevelt’s “governess” Daisy) and have them work beautifully as part of the ensemble, giving everyone their moment to shine, not least the John Gielgud-esque John Mackay, quietly drawing attention in the relatively small part of the drily observant Cameron, now transformed into a British embassy official. Tom Piper’s design easily conveys the sense of a private home rather than a palace — in the best running joke, the words “the walls here are very thin” comes to cover a multitude of social sins and sexual faux pas — and the audience responded warmly to Nelson’s witty and wise dialogue.
I headed to Hampstead with a particularly vested interest in this subject as the incidents in Hyde Park made up part of my 2023 book The Windsors at War. As someone who has written about the period and researched it in detail, I can only say that Nelson’s grounding in historical fact is excellent, and that his dramatic liberties are limited and done with taste and intelligence. If you are looking for grandiose show-stopping moments of high emotion, you may want to go elsewhere. But for a carefully wrought and intelligent examination of presidential-monarchical relations, Springwood more than hits the spot.
