The Royals Part 12

In fact, Mountbatten had cautioned him against falling in love. He said Charles could not afford that luxury. "I can still hear him say that falling in love is not an option for the man who would be king," recalled John Barratt. " 'Leave that to your cousin,' Mountbatten advised." He was referring to Prince Michael of Kent, who was sixteenth in line to the throne when he fell in love with Baroness Marie-Christine von Reibnitz. She was hardly an appropriate choice for a man in the line of succession to the British monarchy. She was divorced, a Roman Catholic, and worse yet, a German, whose father had been a n.a.z.i. The royal family has had other n.a.z.is-the Duke of Coburg, brother of Princess Alice, Countess of Athlone, was a n.a.z.i.

"Marie-Christine was tall, blond, and beautiful," continued John Barratt. "Lord Mountbatten thought she would add a bit of glamour to the House of Windsor. So he helped Prince Michael get permission from the Queen to marry. The Queen consented, but she would not attend the wedding, even though it was not in a Catholic church. The Pope had forbidden that. So they had a civil ceremony, and Prince Michael* had to renounce his place in the line of succession." Charles hardly needed a more glaring example of a marriage going haywire than that of his aunt, Princess Margaret, who was creating an international scandal. had to renounce his place in the line of succession." Charles hardly needed a more glaring example of a marriage going haywire than that of his aunt, Princess Margaret, who was creating an international scandal.

The Italian magazine Men Men ran a cover story on the "wild and intimate parties" of the Snowdons, citing an alleged pa.s.sion for p.o.r.nography. The article described the Duke of Edinburgh as being disgusted by what it called the disgraceful behavior of Snowdon, who, the Duke said, "entered society through the tradesmen's entrance." ran a cover story on the "wild and intimate parties" of the Snowdons, citing an alleged pa.s.sion for p.o.r.nography. The article described the Duke of Edinburgh as being disgusted by what it called the disgraceful behavior of Snowdon, who, the Duke said, "entered society through the tradesmen's entrance."

The satirical television show Spitting Image Spitting Image featured the Snowdons in a sketch ent.i.tled "Nightmare Couples." "We paired the most horribly mismatched people we could think of," said Roger Law, the show's talented proprietor. "We had Margaret Thatcher and Johnny Rotten; Roman Polanski and Mae West; Diana Ross and Ian Smith. And, of course, Princess Margaret and Antony Armstrong-Jones." featured the Snowdons in a sketch ent.i.tled "Nightmare Couples." "We paired the most horribly mismatched people we could think of," said Roger Law, the show's talented proprietor. "We had Margaret Thatcher and Johnny Rotten; Roman Polanski and Mae West; Diana Ross and Ian Smith. And, of course, Princess Margaret and Antony Armstrong-Jones."

Esquire magazine reported the Snowdons' sniping at each other, especially over her insistence that even their closest friends observe protocol and treat her with the deference due royalty. magazine reported the Snowdons' sniping at each other, especially over her insistence that even their closest friends observe protocol and treat her with the deference due royalty.

"You address me by my Christian name," protested a newspaper editor, who had known Margaret all her life, "so why can't I address you the same way?"

"You can't, can't, that's all," said the Princess loftily. She insisted on being addressed as "ma'am" or "ma'am darling" and referred to as Her Royal Highness. She exacted abbreviated curtsies from women and small neck bows from men. Once she entered a room, no one was allowed to leave. And if she wanted to party until four in the morning, bleary-eyed guests had to dance attendance. No one sat in her presence without her permission, and if she wanted to sing, no one dared talk. that's all," said the Princess loftily. She insisted on being addressed as "ma'am" or "ma'am darling" and referred to as Her Royal Highness. She exacted abbreviated curtsies from women and small neck bows from men. Once she entered a room, no one was allowed to leave. And if she wanted to party until four in the morning, bleary-eyed guests had to dance attendance. No one sat in her presence without her permission, and if she wanted to sing, no one dared talk.

The Snowdons soon went their separate ways. Margaret built a home on the Caribbean island of Mustique, which her husband never visited. And he held weekend parties at his Suss.e.x cottage, which she never attended. They maintained an open marriage with lovers on both sides. The Princess, who got a reputation as promiscuous, dallied with several of her husband's friends, including rock star Mick Jagger, writer Robin Douglas-Home, actor Peter Sellers, and photographer Patrick Lichfield, who was also a first cousin once removed.* "We're kissing cousins," she said. "So it's okay." "We're kissing cousins," she said. "So it's okay."

Snowdon, too, engaged in extramarital affairs, including a year-long romance with Lady Jacqueline Rufus-Isaacs, the twenty-two-year-old daughter of the Marquess of Reading. But he objected to his wife's romance with the nephew of former Prime Minister Sir Alec Douglas-Home. The romance had started in December 1966 when Snowdon was traveling on a photo a.s.signment for the Sunday Times. Sunday Times. Upon his return, he learned that his wife had spent the weekend with Douglas-Home at his country estate. Snowdon flew into a rage, and Margaret quickly ended the relations.h.i.+p. The aristocrat fell further into alcoholism and drug addiction. A year later he committed suicide. He had begged the Princess to leave her dismal marriage, but she refused. In an exchange of letters with Douglas-Home, she wrote that she was too afraid of her husband: Upon his return, he learned that his wife had spent the weekend with Douglas-Home at his country estate. Snowdon flew into a rage, and Margaret quickly ended the relations.h.i.+p. The aristocrat fell further into alcoholism and drug addiction. A year later he committed suicide. He had begged the Princess to leave her dismal marriage, but she refused. In an exchange of letters with Douglas-Home, she wrote that she was too afraid of her husband: Darling, I can't.... I don't know what lengths he won't go to, jealous as he is, to find out what I am up to, and your movements too. Can I make you happy from a distance? I think we can, just by being there for the other. Promise you will never give up, that you will go on encouraging me to make the marriage a success, and that given a good and safe chance, I will try and come back to you one day. I daren't at the moment. Darling, I can't.... I don't know what lengths he won't go to, jealous as he is, to find out what I am up to, and your movements too. Can I make you happy from a distance? I think we can, just by being there for the other. Promise you will never give up, that you will go on encouraging me to make the marriage a success, and that given a good and safe chance, I will try and come back to you one day. I daren't at the moment.

The Snowdons' marriage became a dog's bone as they wrestled it to the ground. They chased it, gnawed it, and bit it. At the beginning they had nipped each other like frisky pups; now they snarled like pit bulls.

Both chain-smoked and drank too much. Margaret, who suffered from migraines, started drinking gin and tonics for breakfast. She took pills to sleep and became so depressed, she went to a psychiatrist. Snowdon, who spent weeks at a time away from her, wanted a divorce, but she refused. She saw no need to disturb their life. Their enmity triggered vigorous s.e.x, she confided to friends, and she relished it. She treasured the framed collage that Tony had made for her when they first became lovers. He had collected bits of leaf, a peac.o.c.k feather, a coin, words cut out of a magazine, and a crown floating above a small pink satin bed. The puzzle, which apparently carried an intimate message, was signed with a picture of a pony. Crossing out the letter P, P, he had inserted he had inserted T T for Tony. Margaret hung the collage in her bathroom. for Tony. Margaret hung the collage in her bathroom.

Devoutly religious, she believed a dreadful marriage was better than a divorce, especially for their son and daughter. At first she and her husband had not wanted children. "After we got married, Tony changed his mind," she said. "So I gave him two children." Now she wanted to keep the marriage together because of six-year-old David and three-year-old Sarah. Margaret also knew that a member of the House of Windsor was forbidden to divorce. And for her, divorce seemed inconceivable. "I do not say I don't want a divorce," she told a friend. "But I believe it is my duty to keep my solemn vows-my duty to my family, myself, and my country." Snowdon appealed to the Queen, saying his marriage to her sister had become intolerable.

The Queen, who s.h.i.+ed away from any kind of family confrontation, wouldn't address the subject of her sister's marriage until the Daily Express Daily Express published rumors of a rift. Then the Queen's advisers recommended she meet with the Snowdons. Reluctantly the Queen invited the couple to Buckingham Palace after business hours on the evening of Monday, December 18, 1967. Margaret told a friend that the meeting was published rumors of a rift. Then the Queen's advisers recommended she meet with the Snowdons. Reluctantly the Queen invited the couple to Buckingham Palace after business hours on the evening of Monday, December 18, 1967. Margaret told a friend that the meeting was "en famille" "en famille" and included Prince Philip and the Queen Mother. and included Prince Philip and the Queen Mother.

Philip bluntly declared himself in favor of an informal separation. He compared the Snowdon marriage to a barnacle on the bottom of the monarchy. The only solution, said the seaman, was a wire brush. Margaret snuffled, and the Queen Mother, who avoided anything unpleasant, was teary but noncommittal. Her silent presence bolstered the Queen, who had said she needed everyone behind her for this decision. Snowdon, who wanted a clean break, sat silently. Tucked in his jacket were three of Margaret's love letters from Robin Douglas-Home. After listening impa.s.sively, the Queen said she wanted time to consult her advisers. With no decision reached, Snowdon left. Margaret stayed behind and later told her friend Sharman Douglas that the Queen's parting advice was: "Why don't each of you go your own way-but please be quiet about it."

Snowdon felt trapped, and he reacted like a caged animal. With no escape in sight, he struck back with pitiless cruelty. He humiliated his wife at every turn, often in front of other people.

On a trip to Corfu, Greece, after a long boozy lunch with friends, he suggested that he and Margaret rest for a few hours before their dinner engagement. So they retired to separate bedrooms for a nap. An hour later the doorbell of their suite rang.

"Margaret told me that she called to Tony to answer the door, but he pretended to be asleep," said a friend. "The bell kept ringing, so finally she got up. She was in her nightie with her hair in rollers. Six people were standing at the door; they said that Tony had invited them for tea. Margaret realized that Tony had set her up simply to make her look foolish."

The Princess retaliated in London by tipping a pot of coffee over his negatives. "Oh, so sorry," she said with singsong sarcasm. At a New York City party given by Sharman Douglas, Margaret held court on one side of the room, Snowdon entertained friends on the other. The hostess, whose father was U.S. Amba.s.sador to Great Britain in 1947, shuttled between them. Greeting Margaret, she inquired about the Queen.

"Which Queen are you referring to?" said the Princess, waving her cigarette holder. "My sister, my mother, or my husband?"

At the end of the evening, the Princess wanted to thank the kitchen staff. She expected her husband to accompany her, so she sent an aide to fetch him.

"Sir, Her Royal Highness is ready to go into the kitchen."

Snowdon ignored the man and continued talking.

The aide waited. He cleared his throat and tried again. But Snowdon kept chatting. Finally the aide interrupted.

"Sir, I beg your pardon, but Her Royal Highness is ready to go into the kitchen."

"Really?" snapped Snowdon. "And what is she going to do in there? Scramble some eggs?"

A week later the Snowdons attended a private dinner party in London. "It was ghastly," recalled their hostess. "When we sat for dinner, Tony put a bag over his head. The first course was served. He did nothing. n.o.body addressed a word to him, just pretended he wasn't there. Finally Princess Margaret said, 'Why are you wearing a brown bag over your head?'

" 'Because I can't stand the f.u.c.king sight of you,' he said." He left a note on her dressing table headed "Twenty Reasons Why I Hate You."

No one was spared the bickering. In front of friends, Snowdon belittled his wife's appearance and her taste in clothes, especially her shoes, which she had custom-made to make her look taller.

"Oh, ma'am, what a pretty parachute silk," he said as she swept into their drawing room for a dinner party. She was wearing a flowing blue chiffon caftan designed to conceal her recent weight gain. He looked down at her high-heeled platform shoes. "Oh, and I see we have on our finest little prewar peep-toes." Later, he said, "You look like a Jewish manicurist."

At the beginning of their marriage, Snowdon helped his wife perform her royal duties, for which she received an allowance of $45,000 a year. "He was very good for me-then," recalled the Princess, who admitted that he charmed where she offended. She once shocked the head of a children's organization by announcing, "I don't want to meet any daft children." Later he chafed at the indignity of escorting her to hospital openings, s.h.i.+p launchings, and tree plantings. He especially resented the implication that he was a kept man. "I support myself," he told reporters. "I pay $2,500 a year in taxes."

By then he had resumed his career as a photographer with the Sunday Times. Sunday Times. "Photograph by Snowdon" was a prized credit line for the newspaper. He enjoyed access to people unavailable to other photographers. The actress Vivian Merchant attributed this entree to his marriage, not his talent. "Of course, the only reason we artistes let you take our pictures," she told him one evening at a dinner party, "is because you are married to her." She stabbed a finger toward Princess Margaret. Snowdon seethed. "Photograph by Snowdon" was a prized credit line for the newspaper. He enjoyed access to people unavailable to other photographers. The actress Vivian Merchant attributed this entree to his marriage, not his talent. "Of course, the only reason we artistes let you take our pictures," she told him one evening at a dinner party, "is because you are married to her." She stabbed a finger toward Princess Margaret. Snowdon seethed.

His troubled marriage was known to journalists, who gossiped among themselves but never committed their stories to print.

"I remember going to Kensington Palace to look at a photo shoot," recalled a Times Times staffer. "Snowdon and I were sitting down, poring over proofs. I did not know the Princess had entered the room until I heard her high-pitched voice over our shoulders. staffer. "Snowdon and I were sitting down, poring over proofs. I did not know the Princess had entered the room until I heard her high-pitched voice over our shoulders.

" 'What pretty pictures,' she said.

" 'Oh, G.o.d,' said Snowdon, hissing with irritation. He refused to stand up. Just jerked his head toward Her Royal Highness and said, 'Meet the chief Sea Scout.'*

"It was a biting remark, incredibly rude, and intended only to humiliate her," said the embarra.s.sed reporter. "He then ignored the Princess for the next fifteen minutes until she finally left the room. He sighed with relief."

The couple's carping made their friends uncomfortable. "The marriage could never have worked," said one woman. "There was an evil fairy at Margaret's christening, and Tony, who is admirable and interesting, is hugely demanding. Both of them wanted to be stars, and their stars collided. He was more talented, but her appet.i.te demanded constant attention, which he could not and would not give. She has a male ego in that it's voracious. He's got one, too, but he deserves his plaudits. She just demands hers." The British press maintained an official silence about the royal marriage because the Princess, then fifth in line to the throne, is the Queen's sister. "The British penchant for gossipy b.i.t.c.hiness cannot be offloaded on the monarch, who is inviolate, dull, and worthy," said British writer Andrew Duncan. "The younger sister, therefore, becomes the outlet for hypocrisy."

At first the stories that leaked into print protected the Princess more than the commoner she married. McCall's McCall's magazine reported the Earl of Snowdon had attended a party "wearing too much makeup." At another party, magazine reported the Earl of Snowdon had attended a party "wearing too much makeup." At another party, Private Eye Private Eye reported him "racing across the room to Rudolf Nureyev and greeting him with a kiss full on the lips." The satirical magazine referred to Lord Snowdon as a dog on a leash: "The Princess is continually losing her husband. He slips off his lead and vanishes, often for weeks on end." The magazine suggested the Queen was so angry at her pet.i.te brother-in-law that she did not speak to him for eighteen months after his outrageous performance during the 1969 Christmas dinner at Sandringham: "It was then that the minuscule genius climaxed the evening by leaping onto the dinner table, crying, 'And now-it's Tony La Rue,' and commencing a lively striptease." The next year Princess Margaret went to Sandringham alone with her children while her husband spent the holiday in a London hospital having his hemorrhoids removed. reported him "racing across the room to Rudolf Nureyev and greeting him with a kiss full on the lips." The satirical magazine referred to Lord Snowdon as a dog on a leash: "The Princess is continually losing her husband. He slips off his lead and vanishes, often for weeks on end." The magazine suggested the Queen was so angry at her pet.i.te brother-in-law that she did not speak to him for eighteen months after his outrageous performance during the 1969 Christmas dinner at Sandringham: "It was then that the minuscule genius climaxed the evening by leaping onto the dinner table, crying, 'And now-it's Tony La Rue,' and commencing a lively striptease." The next year Princess Margaret went to Sandringham alone with her children while her husband spent the holiday in a London hospital having his hemorrhoids removed.

"The Queen has always been very fond of Lord Snowdon," said a member of her staff, dismissing the magazine's suggestion of displeasure. Years later, when Her Majesty met an Oscar-winning cinematographer, she asked him what he did in films. He said he was director of photography.

"Oh, how terribly interesting," the Queen was said to have replied. "Actually, I have a brother-in-law who is a photographer."

"How terribly coincidental," the cinematographer responded. "I have a brother-in-law who's a queen." Her Majesty moved on without saying another word.

Behind the rumors about the Snowdons' royal marriage lay a sordid mess of drinks, drugs, bright lights, and wild nights. "But worse than anything were the cracking rows," recalled a former lady-in-waiting for the Princess. "Dehumanizing to them and to those around them. Tony traveled on photographic a.s.signments-Tokyo, Melbourne, New York-as much as he could to get away, and Margaret longed for him to go. But after a week without him, she'd get bored."

During a three-week a.s.signment in India, Snowdon did not contact his wife. After the first week, the Times Times photo editor began receiving daily calls from the Princess, inquiring about her husband, who cabled the newspaper three times a day but didn't communicate with her. When the photo editor was unavailable, his a.s.sistant took the calls from Kensington Palace and left messages on the editor's desk: "HRH called," or "It's ma'am-again." By the end of the third week, the messages from the a.s.sistant reflected the maddening frequency of the calls: " photo editor began receiving daily calls from the Princess, inquiring about her husband, who cabled the newspaper three times a day but didn't communicate with her. When the photo editor was unavailable, his a.s.sistant took the calls from Kensington Palace and left messages on the editor's desk: "HRH called," or "It's ma'am-again." By the end of the third week, the messages from the a.s.sistant reflected the maddening frequency of the calls: "Please ring the royal dwarf." ring the royal dwarf."

The disintegration of Princess Margaret's marriage put subtle pressure on Prince Charles, whose only responsibility in life was to marry well and reproduce. He was constrained by two pieces of eighteenth-century legislation: the 1701 Act of Settlement, which prohibits the heir from marrying a Roman Catholic; and the 1772 Royal Marriages Act, which requires the heir to receive the sovereign's permission before marrying, unless the heir is older than twenty-five. Then he must declare his intention to marry and proceed only if, after twelve months, both Houses of Parliament do not object. Born to be King, Charles knew that he needed to give the country a Queen and insure the continuation of the House of Windsor. Since he had been three years of age his future marriage had been a running story in the press, which did not hesitate to suggest suitable candidates for him. The need to make a perfect match was reinforced by every royal occasion during the seventies.

The death of the Duke of Windsor in May 1972 revisited the shame of the former King's abdication and the lonely exile forced on him-all because of an inappropriate marriage. Despite the hostility of his family toward the Windsors, Charles felt sympathy for the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess. He had accompanied his parents on an official trip to Paris and visited briefly with his great-uncle ten days before he died.

Knowing the seventy-seven-year-old duke was terminally ill, the Queen agreed to see him during her five-day state visit to France. Despite urgent calls from the Duke's doctor, Jean Thin, the Queen would not rearrange her schedule. The doctor implored the Queen's secretary to relay how gravely ill the Duke was. "He's on the verge of death," said the doctor. The next day, the doctor received a call from the British amba.s.sador, Christopher Soames, who was concerned that the Duke's death might interfere with the Queen's state visit.

"Now, look here, doctor," Jean Thin recalled the amba.s.sador saying. "The Duke has got to die before or after the Queen's visit but not not during the visit. Do you understand?" during the visit. Do you understand?"

A reporter questioned the Queen's secretary about Her Majesty's apparent callousness toward the Duke of Windsor. The Queen's secretary told the reporter, "You know he's dying. I know he's dying. But WE WE don't know he's dying." don't know he's dying."

Charles, who accompanied his parents to the Windsors' home in the Bois de Boulogne outside Paris, had been jolted by the sight of the fragile old man, wasted by throat cancer. Although racked and emaciated, the former King had insisted on getting out of bed to pay proper homage to his sovereign. Charles was touched by his gallantry.

The d.u.c.h.ess of Windsor, who had been reviled by the royal family, found the Queen cold and remote. "Her manner as much as stated that she had not intended to honor him with a visit," the d.u.c.h.ess told the Countess of Romanones, "but that she was simply covering appearances by coming here because he was dying and it was known that she was in Paris."

Upon the Duke's death, Charles wanted to extend kindness to the d.u.c.h.ess, who had been vilified for so long by the royal family. He graciously offered to meet her plane in London and to escort her to her husband's funeral, but the Palace said no. The Queen's courtiers explained that as heir apparent he would embarra.s.s the throne by making such a royal gesture to a twice divorced commoner. "It might be misinterpreted," said the Queen's secretary. Charles realized that the obstacle continued to be the Queen Mother, and he could not offend his beloved grandmother. So the Earl Mountbatten of Burma was dispatched to meet the d.u.c.h.ess. She was invited to stay in Buckingham Palace, but only for the duration of her husband's funeral.

"Immediately afterward, everyone in the royal family went to Windsor and left the d.u.c.h.ess by herself," recalled one of the Queen's stewards. "I was working in the gold-and-silver pantry then and I remember them all-the Queen Mother, the Queen, and Princess Margaret-planning to leave for the country without the d.u.c.h.ess of Windsor. It was despicable to treat her like that after all those years. I can still see her thin and withered face peeking out from the window sheers of Buckingham Palace after everyone left. She looked so alone and bereft."

For Charles, the importance of marrying well was again underscored in November 1972, when he and his sister held a dinner party to celebrate his parents' silver wedding anniversary. The country paused to honor the Queen's twenty-five-year marriage to Prince Philip in a celebration that lasted all day. Schoolchildren were given a holiday, and the Queen invited one hundred couples to attend a commemorative service in Westminster Abbey. Although the couples were all strangers, they shared Her Majesty's wedding date. So she invited them to pray with her. At the end of the service, the Duke of Edinburgh moved into the center aisle and crooked his arm to escort his wife out of the Abbey, just as he had on their wedding day. But Her Majesty was no longer looking in his direction, so the arm was not taken. The couple walked out side by side, smiling but not touching, a reflection of their marriage, which was an effective partners.h.i.+p-congenial, but not intimate.

Thousands of people poured into the City of London to hear the Lord Mayor praise the Queen as an unfailing example in public and private life. "Through the medium of television you have allowed us to look into your uncurtained windows more freely than any generation before," he said. "Of the many great services which you tendered to your subjects in these twenty-five years, that vision of this happiness in family life which you and your consort and your children so evidently enjoy yourselves must have strengthened the unity of every family in the land."

Even Willie Hamilton offered his congratulations. Parliament's most outspoken critic of the monarchy surprised people with his tribute. Seconds later, though, he criticized the commemorative plates and spoons being hawked on the street and slammed "the sordid, greedy commercialization of the event and the money-grubbing loyalists, who are busy cas.h.i.+ng in on the irrational sentiment worked up on this unusual royal occasion." He suggested that the Palace should have stipulated all profits be donated to charity, particularly to children who were born deformed because their mothers had taken the drug thalidomide. The Palace ignored his suggestion.

"I looked like a crank then," he recalled. "Twenty years later, I looked like a prophet."

The Queen was so pleased to share her wedding anniversary that she ventured from her customary reserve and circulated among her subjects, trying to make small talk. People were agog; their sovereign had never been known to speak to ordinary people. This was the first royal walkabout London had ever seen, and flag-waving Britons cheered as the Queen, the Duke of Edinburgh, Prince Charles, and Princess Anne melted into the crowd, greeting people and trying to make the royal family appear less remote.

Stressing her commitment to family life, Her Majesty made a short talk of lace-capped innocence. "A marriage begins by joining man and wife together, but this relations.h.i.+p between two people, however deep at the time, needs to develop and mature with the pa.s.sing years. For that, it must be held firm in the web of family relations.h.i.+ps, between parents and children, between grandparents and grandchildren, between cousins, aunts, and uncles."

When she spoke those words, most Britons, according to a 1972 Harris poll, believed it was the monarchy that set the standard of morality for the country, even more so than the church. Such confidence in the Crown prompted the Queen to send a "gracious message" to Parliament asking for a pay raise. Although one million people were out of work at the time, no member of Parliament, except one,* wanted to deprive the sovereign of her tax-free allotment from the Civil List. wanted to deprive the sovereign of her tax-free allotment from the Civil List.

"Why should she get millions when old-age pensioners will die of cold and starvation this winter?" Hamilton asked from the floor of the House of Commons. Outraged Tories rushed to their feet, shouting in protest. The Labor MP paid no attention. "And look at this," he thundered, waving a list of the Queen Mother's staff of thirty-three, including five Ladies of the Bedchamber and eleven Women of the Bedchamber.

"What the blazes do they do? What size bedchamber is this? All right, the Queen Mother is an old-age pensioner and we say, 'Yes, she has always got a pleasant smile on her face.' But my G.o.d. If my wife got that pay, she would never stop laughing."

Tory members stamped their feet in protest. To criticize the expenditures of the Queen Mother sounded blasphemous to them. "This is an obscene speech," yelled one Conservative MP. But Hamilton pushed on, objecting to the raise proposed for Princess Margaret. "For this expensive kept woman?" he roared. "She should be sacked."

Not even Her Majesty was immune. Hamilton harrumphed: "There are one thousand women in my const.i.tuency who could do the Queen's job."

At first the Palace had tried to ignore Hamilton and dismiss him as a nuisance. "He's a b.l.o.o.d.y communist," said Prince Philip, who had been criticized in Parliament for saying that England should worry more about its deserving rich than its hopeless poor. Outrage in the House of Commons* over that comment forced the Prime Minister, James Callaghan, to remind critics of a long-established custom "to speak with respect of members of the royal family." There was no such rebuke from the Prime Minister after Willie Hamilton's attack. over that comment forced the Prime Minister, James Callaghan, to remind critics of a long-established custom "to speak with respect of members of the royal family." There was no such rebuke from the Prime Minister after Willie Hamilton's attack.

"He's just a common little Scotsman," said Princess Margaret, spitting out "common" like a fur ball. Her cut-gla.s.s accent sliced the word with contempt. For her, the rigid dictates of the cla.s.s system ruled. People were defined solely by bloodline-not character, education, wealth, or accomplishment. Birth determined worth. And royalty stood at the top of humanity's ladder. Everybody else scrambled below with no hope of ascending. The Princess spared no one, not even her paternal grandmother. "I detested Queen Mary," she told Gore Vidal. "She was rude to all of us, except Lilibet, who was going to be Queen. Of course, she [Queen Mary] had an inferiority complex. We were royal, and she was not." little Scotsman," said Princess Margaret, spitting out "common" like a fur ball. Her cut-gla.s.s accent sliced the word with contempt. For her, the rigid dictates of the cla.s.s system ruled. People were defined solely by bloodline-not character, education, wealth, or accomplishment. Birth determined worth. And royalty stood at the top of humanity's ladder. Everybody else scrambled below with no hope of ascending. The Princess spared no one, not even her paternal grandmother. "I detested Queen Mary," she told Gore Vidal. "She was rude to all of us, except Lilibet, who was going to be Queen. Of course, she [Queen Mary] had an inferiority complex. We were royal, and she was not."

As royalty, Margaret did not carry cash. Nor did she pay her own bills. She didn't even own a credit card. Her finances were handled by the head of her household, who managed her allotment from her Civil List. She complained constantly about her paltry allowance and was not above bartering.

"One Christmas someone gave her a huge gift basket with all sorts of bubble baths, perfumes, oils, and lotions that took two people to carry," said William C. Brewer, a former a.s.sociate of Crabtree & Evelyn, the fragrance company. "The Princess and her lady-in-waiting came into our shop in Kensington the day after Christmas with the mammoth gift. I knew it was Princess Margaret from the springalator platform shoes. She had come to return the gift, and she refused to accept a store credit. 'I want cash,' she said. What could we do? Although it's against store policy, we gave her a cash refund because she's Princess Margaret. The lady-in-waiting took the money and the two of them walked out."

Margaret expects to be accommodated because she is royalty. Her mother and her sister have the same expectations. When they are invited to be houseguests (or, more accurately, when their ladies-in-waiting call their friends who have large country estates and inquire about the possibility of a royal visit), advance people arrive to make sure that the weekend premises will be suitable, not just for security, but for royal comfort.

When the Queen Mother visited British barrister Michael Pratt, he told friends that her lady-in-waiting arrived beforehand with a list of instructions: gin and tonic in the bedroom, no noisy children, and bronco paper fanned out in the bathroom. "Bronco paper is a heavy, rough, brown paper that is abrasive and good for cleaning motor oil off the linoleum," recalled one of Pratt's friends. "Most people want only the softest toilet tissue for their b.u.ms, but that old horse insists on having sandpaper wipes from World War Two when the country was on rations. They don't even sell bronco paper anymore. You have to special-order it on Walton Street, or else fake it by slos.h.i.+ng tea on white fax paper."

Princess Margaret's friends, who describe her as the houseguest from h.e.l.l, also receive a list of instructions: tune the piano, get lots of Ella Fitzgerald records, import some young men who like to sing and dance, and have a recording of "Scotland the Brave" by the Royal Highland Fusiliers. Most important: provide potables-Gordon's eighty-proof gin and tonic for midmorning through midafternoon, and from midafternoon until midnight, Famous Grouse Scotch whiskey. "You must make sure she has jammy dodgers for tea," said one of Margaret's hostesses. "Jammy dodgers are little circular sandwiches cut out of white bread with raspberry jam in the middle. The raspberry preserve must be seedless because Her Royal Highness does not like seeds stuck in her teeth, so you have to purchase imported preserves.

"Royal weekends are such a nightmare. The worst pressure is if you have the Queen to stay. Then you must lock your cats in the stable because Her Majesty abhors cats. You have to have barley water for her because that's what she uses to cleanse her face. You have to send your children away because the royals can't stand children. My son hates when the royal family descends on us, especially Margaret. He says she's like the front of Notre Dame-all gargoyles-and should have water spouting out of her mouth.

"All members of the royal family believe the prestige they bring to their hosts justifies the inconvenience and expense of their visit. It's an arrogant a.s.sumption but indisputably valid because I don't know anyone within the aristocracy who has ever turned them down, myself included. Lord Douglas of Neidpath threatens to bar Margaret's next visit, but so far he hasn't."

The prospect of a royal visit can turn a household upside-down. "Every time that call came from the King's [George VI's] equerry or the Queen's [Elizabeth's] lady-in-waiting, my mother would go into a faint," recalled the daughter of a marquess. " 'Oh, G.o.d, oh, G.o.d, they want to come for tea.' You couldn't say no. You just couldn't. So we'd rush around for biscuits, unearth the Earl Grey, and find some clotted cream. Then we got cleaned and sc.r.a.ped the horse muck off our shoes. We dreaded their arrival, but we were ready.

"In they'd pounce. The first visit I remember was King George VI, Queen Mary, the Countess of Athlone [Queen Mary's sister-in-law], Princess Elizabeth, Prince Philip, and Princess Margaret. I was eight, my brother was three. We stood to attention when they arrived. I had to curtsy to the floor and he had to bow with his neck, bringing his chin to his chest...."

Over the years Princess Margaret came to rely on the largesse of rich friends like the Aga Khan and Imelda Marcos to provide villas and yachts for her pleasure. She especially enjoyed visiting Italy and regularly invited herself to stay with Harold Acton at La Pietra in Florence and Gore Vidal in Ravello. She also expected to be paid to attend certain overseas charity events and demanded first-cla.s.s accommodations-planes, hotels, limousines, hairdressers-in addition to a personal appearance fee. She acted as though this were her due. The royal presence deserved royal compensation, especially from rich Americans.

"I remember when one of her best friends arranged for Princess Margaret and Lord Snowdon to be guests of honor at a charity ball in New York," recalled writer Stephen Birmingham. "The Snowdons charged us $30,000 as their personal appearance fee, but we couldn't pay them because we couldn't raise enough money from ticket sales. They left New York feeling exploited and we felt robbed. Worse, the Princess never spoke to her friend again-all because of a lousy $30,000."

Even her friends described her as temperamental. "Margaret is operatic," said one man. "I've known her all my life. I've escorted her places, been entertained in her home at Kensington Palace, even stayed with her in Mustique. Yet I'm utterly dispensable. I'm there only for her entertainment and amus.e.m.e.nt when she needs to be entertained and amused. Beyond that, I'm nothing to her. I'm not otherwise acknowledged.... I stayed up one night drinking and singing songs with her-G.o.d, how she loves to sing, fancies herself better than Barbra Streisand-and two nights later I saw her at the Palace for a big party. She walked in and strode past me as if I were a marble column. Not so much as a glance, nod, or a smile. That's royalty. It's beyond arrogance. It's total indifference to another human being."

Princess Michael of Kent* became known as the Pushy Princess after insisting that Thorn EMI (a record company) send her ten color television sets for her servants' quarters before she'd attend a c.o.c.ktail party. The TV sets arrived-and so did the Princess-for-hire. became known as the Pushy Princess after insisting that Thorn EMI (a record company) send her ten color television sets for her servants' quarters before she'd attend a c.o.c.ktail party. The TV sets arrived-and so did the Princess-for-hire.

She showed a basic understanding for the commerce of royal patronage. Walking by Mozafarian Jewelers on Beauchamp Place in London, she spotted a decorative ivory bear in the window. "It cost $1,000," said the owner's daughter, "and she wanted it. So my father said, 'Wrap it up for her.' " The Princess walked out with the fanciful object, and her personal secretary sent a thank-you note, which the owner then displayed in a gold frame.

The British royal family appears eccentrically tightfisted to the people who serve them. "Prince Charles doesn't like to spend money," said his former valet Stephen Barry, "and he moans about the price of everything."

Like his mother, Charles counts the chickens in the freezer at each one of his palaces and insists that leftovers be warmed and served, "night after night," according to one of his secretaries, "until there is no food left. He cannot abide waste." He also squeezes his toothpaste with a sterling silver implement called a mangle so he can get the last drop. Then he insists the tubes be recycled.

"All the Windsors are mean as cat's p.i.s.s," said John Barratt. "All of them-from the Queen on down, and she's the leader of the miserly lot. They pay little to staff * * because they think it's an honor for us to serve them. They give miserable presents-and then only at Christmas. The Queen once gave her laundress a bag of clothespins, which was her idea of a practical gift. She gave her seamstress a heavy horseshoe magnet to pick up the pins she dropped on the floor during fittings. Her Majesty does better for friends, of course, especially if they're famous. She gave Noel Coward a solid gold crown-encrusted cigarette case for his seventieth birthday, a bizarre present from someone who professes to hate smoking, but lavish. The usual present from the Queen is a photograph of herself or one of her with the Duke of Edinburgh in a sterling silver frame with the royal crest. because they think it's an honor for us to serve them. They give miserable presents-and then only at Christmas. The Queen once gave her laundress a bag of clothespins, which was her idea of a practical gift. She gave her seamstress a heavy horseshoe magnet to pick up the pins she dropped on the floor during fittings. Her Majesty does better for friends, of course, especially if they're famous. She gave Noel Coward a solid gold crown-encrusted cigarette case for his seventieth birthday, a bizarre present from someone who professes to hate smoking, but lavish. The usual present from the Queen is a photograph of herself or one of her with the Duke of Edinburgh in a sterling silver frame with the royal crest.

"When it comes to those who serve them, Princess Margaret gives the same kind of frightful present as the Queen. Margaret gave one of her elderly ladies-in-waiting a lavatory brush because the poor dear didn't have one in her loo when she visited."

The Princess spent weeks before Christmas choosing appropriate gifts for her family, her friends, and her staff and wrapped each present personally. She selects sensibly but has been known to splurge for special employees. One year she gave her detective a video compact disc player and her chauffeur two s.h.i.+rts from Turnbull & a.s.ser. That same year her butler, who had been hired only a few weeks before, received a less extravagant gift. "It was a very nice silk tie from Simpson's," he said. "The Princess explained that I would have received a little something more had I been with her longer."

"The Queen gives the spare minimum," recalled Barratt, "blow heaters, bath mats, a shovel. She would ring up and ask what Lord Mountbatten would like. I'd tell her that he needed new spurs. So she'd give him spurs. It's a very useful way of giving a present, although it lacks spontaneity. But then spontaneity would be out of character for the royal family, where everything is programmed."

The Queen seemed hardworking to her subjects, who appreciated her frugality. They took comfort in her conscientiousness as she recycled her wardrobe and pa.s.sed her castoffs to her sister and her daughter. They nodded approvingly when one of her corgis killed a rabbit at Balmoral, and she carefully presented the b.l.o.o.d.y animal to her chef. "We can eat this," she said. They saluted her practicality when she gave each of her staff at Sandringham a pot of chrysanthemums for Christmas with the instruction: "Give the pot back to the gardener when the plant dies." They approved of the memo she wrote to the Head of the Household to change the forty-watt light bulb in her bedside lamp to one of sixty watts-"but not until this one is finished." They liked her small efforts to conserve, especially during the droughts of the 1970s. When she alerted her households to save water, signs promptly went up in the lavatories of Buckingham Palace: "Don't pull for a pee."*

Her subjects accepted certain extravagances as basic necessities for the Queen such as her luggage-172 custom-made trunks of hand-tooled leather that carried her feather pillows, her hot-water bottles, her favorite china tea set, and her white leather lavatory seat.

Her arch, stilted manner was interpreted as dignified, even when she appeared to be totally out of touch. On a visit to Budapest she toured a homeless shelter and saw a line of unshaven men sitting on a bench outside. She said, "It must be so nice here in the winter." She tried to relate to a group of housewives in Sheffield, England, by saying, "I find it difficult keeping my floors clean, too."

Recognizing that Her Majesty's world was remote and rarefied, her courtiers inst.i.tuted regular luncheons at the Palace to introduce her to interesting people. "It's supposed to be a hedge against high huckletybuck," said an actor who has been a regular guest, "but I haven't seen a change in ten years' time.... She's still the Queen, who sent six half bottles of non nonvintage champagne to Winston Churchill on his deathbed... she's the wealthiest woman in the world, and this, of itself, tends to make one so aloof and distant as to be unapproachable. Poor woman cannot relate on a human level... just doesn't know how... making small talk pains her." The Queen's opening remark to one luncheon partner ill.u.s.trated the vast distance between monarch and subject: "You can have no idea," she said, "how much work is involved in maintaining a private golf course."

The Queen was better on paper than in person, especially on matters of taste. When she received letters of protest objecting to a Danish director coming to England to film The Love Life of Jesus Christ, The Love Life of Jesus Christ, she, too, objected. Her press secretary said, "Her Majesty finds this proposal as obnoxious as most of her subjects do." The director was not allowed to film in the United Kingdom. When British newspapers offered huge sums of money for the life story of the Yorks.h.i.+re Ripper, who had terrorized northern England for five years, killing women, the Queen registered her "sense of distaste." She wrote to the mother of one of the victims, who had complained about the murderer's profiting from his crimes. The Queen agreed, and the newspapers withdrew their bids. she, too, objected. Her press secretary said, "Her Majesty finds this proposal as obnoxious as most of her subjects do." The director was not allowed to film in the United Kingdom. When British newspapers offered huge sums of money for the life story of the Yorks.h.i.+re Ripper, who had terrorized northern England for five years, killing women, the Queen registered her "sense of distaste." She wrote to the mother of one of the victims, who had complained about the murderer's profiting from his crimes. The Queen agreed, and the newspapers withdrew their bids.

Her subjects felt that Her Majesty was the best representative of the world's most prestigious surviving monarchy, and as such, she was ent.i.tled to extraordinary wealth. With the exception of the fiery Willie Hamilton, few people begrudged her her $400 million fortune.* So, with little dissension in 1972, Parliament voted to give her the tax-free raise she requested for herself-$3 million a year-and the tax-free raises for her family: the Queen Mother was raised to $237,500; Prince Philip to $162,500; Princess Margaret to $87,500; and Princess Anne to $37,500. Because Prince Charles received an annual income from the Duchy of Cornwall, he was not included on the Civil List. So, with little dissension in 1972, Parliament voted to give her the tax-free raise she requested for herself-$3 million a year-and the tax-free raises for her family: the Queen Mother was raised to $237,500; Prince Philip to $162,500; Princess Margaret to $87,500; and Princess Anne to $37,500. Because Prince Charles received an annual income from the Duchy of Cornwall, he was not included on the Civil List.

The pressure on Charles to marry grew in 1973 when Princess Anne became engaged to Captain Mark Phillips. Reporters suggested that Charles had been bested by his sister, who was marrying before him. Anne chose her brother's twenty-fifth birthday, November 14, 1973, as her wedding day, but Charles did not feel honored. He was aboard the frigate HMS Minerva Minerva when he received the news of her engagement in a letter from his father. "I was crestfallen," Charles admitted. "I reacted with a spasm of shock and amazement." when he received the news of her engagement in a letter from his father. "I was crestfallen," Charles admitted. "I reacted with a spasm of shock and amazement."

Growing up, he and Anne had become close, especially after their royal tours of Australia and the United States, when they represented the Queen. On those trips, Anne, who seemed selfish and arrogant, made Charles look good. He was ingratiating; she was dismissive. He tolerated tedious questions from reporters; she refused. He smiled for photographers; she swatted them like nasty flies. "b.u.g.g.e.r off," she ordered, holding up her hand when cameras pressed too close. In Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C., Charles asked the Speaker of the House of Representatives why the bald eagle had been selected as the country's national symbol. Anne crinkled her nose in disgust. "Most unfortunate choice, isn't it?" she said.

"Anne was awful," recalled the wife of the a.s.sistant Chief of Protocol in the Nixon administration. "She did not speak to anyone. Charles was stupid but rather sweet. During their visit to the U.S. in 1970, Charles asked the British Amba.s.sador, 'Do the Catholics and the Protestants fight each other over here as much as they do in Britain?' The Amba.s.sador cringed with embarra.s.sment."

When Princess Anne was asked how it felt to have Buckingham Palace as a private property, she shrugged. "Don't know," she said, irritated by the question. "It's not private property. The Palace belongs to the Crown."

Charm eluded Anne, who didn't stifle yawns when bored or pretend to be amused when she wasn't. She had her father's blast furnace personality and his "the only good reporter is a dead reporter" att.i.tude toward the press. She was terse, tough, and unemotional, a far cry from her grandmother. The Queen Mother preferred the sweet, malleable Charles to his blunt sister, but Anne won the affection of her aunt, Margaret, who envied her independent spirit.

"Anne's much more positive than I was," said Princess Margaret, who understood the difficulty of growing up as royalty's second child. "She's much tougher, too, and has been brought up in a different atmosphere, and went to school."

Charles, who valued his sister's no-nonsense strength, was heartsick to lose her to marriage. "I can see I shall have to find myself a wife pretty rapidly," he wrote to one friend, "otherwise I shall get left behind and feel very miserable!" To another he said: "Everyone is becoming engaged left, right and centre.... I am now becoming convinced that I shall soon be left floundering helplessly on a shelf somewhere, having missed everyone!"

p.r.o.ne to melancholy, the Prince of Wales fell into a deep depression, which he acknowledged in long, self-pitying letters to friends. "I suppose the feeling of emptiness will pa.s.s eventually," he wrote. He kept to himself as much as he could on board s.h.i.+p and poured his distress into his diary.

To his s.h.i.+pmates he tried to appear jaunty about his sister's engagement, but he could not conceal his resentment. "Anne couldn't marry her horse, so she's marrying Mark," he said about his future brother-in-law, an accomplished equestrian in the Queen's Dragoon Guards. Years later the writer Auberon Waugh described Phillips as "Princess Anne's grinning, speechless husband, who, if you whistle at him, wets himself." Charles agreed and called him "Fog" because he was "so thick."