The Royals Part 3

Mother knew best how to handle her outspoken younger daughter. She simply ignored her, declining to react to any of Margaret's taunts.

"Mummy, why are you wearing those dreadful hairpins?" Margaret asked her mother one day. "They do not match your hair."

"Oh, darling," said the Queen before gliding off with a smile. "Are they really so awful?"

The two little Princesses shared the small, isolated world of royalty, where everyone tried to entertain them because that's what the King and Queen wanted-especially the King, who felt guilty that the war was depriving his daughters of a normal life. "Poor darlings," he wrote in his diary, "they have never had any fun yet." So he seized every opportunity to amuse them.

When Noel Coward began filming In Which We Serve, In Which We Serve, the movie based on the heroic exploits of Louis Mountbatten and the s.h.i.+p he commanded, HMS the movie based on the heroic exploits of Louis Mountbatten and the s.h.i.+p he commanded, HMS Kelly, Kelly, the King and Queen were invited to visit the set, and they took the two little Princesses, who were entranced by the world of make-believe. the King and Queen were invited to visit the set, and they took the two little Princesses, who were entranced by the world of make-believe.

The King enjoyed the company of the glamorous Mountbatten, despite his excessive ambition and blatant self-promotions. The King secretly envied his cousin's das.h.i.+ng style and easy charm as he sailed along the surface of life without dropping anchor. The King even tolerated Mountbatten's exaggerated vanity and seemed more amused than offended when he took his medals and decorations on tour, producing them with theatrical flourish from a custom-built box with stacks of trays: "Did I show you my Star of Nepal?" The Queen was not so impressed. She distrusted Mountbatten because of his continuing friends.h.i.+p with the exiled Duke of Windsor, and years later, when he was Viceroy of India, she blamed him "for giving away the empire." Nor did she like his sleek, elegant wife, Edwina, who had inherited an immense fortune from her grandfather, Sir Edward Ca.s.sel. From her father she inherited Broadlands, the family estate in Hamps.h.i.+re.

"She's only partly English, you know," the Queen told one of her ladies-in-waiting. "Her mother was half-Jewish." The implication was that the "half-Jewish" part accounted for Edwina's taste in jazz, fast cars, c.o.c.ktail parties, and moonlight swims in the nude-all unacceptable to the Queen, who now saw herself as the embodiment of English respectability.

"The Queen was far too clever to slam with a sledgehammer," said John Barratt, Mountbatten's private secretary. "She despised Edwina, who was named one of the best-dressed women in the world and looked like a gazelle in her Chanel suits, while the Queen made her suits look like slipcovers on fire hydrants. But the Queen never overtly sliced Edwina up. Rather, her cuts were sly and deftly delivered, even in death. When Lady Mountbatten died in her sleep in 1960, the Queen, who by then was the Queen Mother, attended the funeral service in Romsey Abbey but returned to Clarence House to view the burial at sea on television. As Edwina's coffin was lowered into the water, she smiled and said: 'Oh, my. Edwina always did want to make a splash.' "

During the early days of their reign, the King and Queen felt insecure as they struggled to lift the weight of Edward's abdication from the throne. They worried that Winston Churchill was stealing their limelight. "K. and Q. feel Winston puts them in the shade," the Conservative MP Victor Cazalet wrote in his diary of June 1940. After visiting with the King's courtiers, he wrote, "We talk of K. and how Winston quite unconsciously has put them [King and Queen] in background. Who will tell him?"

The motives of Lord Mountbatten, or "Uncle d.i.c.kie," as he was known to the family, were even more suspect. The Queen objected when he started addressing the issue of her elder daughter's future husband. He first raised the subject when Princess Elizabeth was only thirteen years old; the Queen dismissed the discussion as premature, although her mother-in-law, Queen Mary, already had compiled a list of eligible young men to be considered. Her possibilities, all of royal blood, included Prince Charles of Luxembourg, who was considerably younger than Elizabeth, and Prince Gorm of Denmark.

Unfazed, Mountbatten persisted through the years by strategically placing his handsome nephew Prince Philip of Greece at various family affairs. He encouraged the young man, whom he treated as a surrogate son, to ingratiate himself with the King and Queen and to get to know Lilibet, who was his third cousin. Mountbatten suggested that Philip correspond with Elizabeth ("A card here, a note there, would be very nice, my boy") during the war, so by the time Philip was eighteen, he, too, was seeing himself as a potential prince consort.

When he went to sea, Philip shocked his navy skipper by divulging his uncle's scheme. Vice Admiral Harold Tom Baillie-Grohman was Captain of the battles.h.i.+p Ramillies Ramillies in the Mediterranean during the summer of 1939. As a favor to Lord Louis Mountbatten, he had taken on board the mids.h.i.+pman known as Prince Philip of Greece. He told the young man, who was born in Greece to a German Danish father of the house of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glucksburg and a German mother (Battenberg/Mountbatten), that he would not be able to advance in the Royal Navy as a Greek citizen. Philip understood and said that he wanted to become a naturalized British subject. He knew his career in the British navy would not progress if he didn't give up his Greek nationality. Greece was then a neutral country, and England could not risk having even a distant heir to the Greek throne (Philip was sixth in the line of succession) killed by enemy action while serving on a British wars.h.i.+p. in the Mediterranean during the summer of 1939. As a favor to Lord Louis Mountbatten, he had taken on board the mids.h.i.+pman known as Prince Philip of Greece. He told the young man, who was born in Greece to a German Danish father of the house of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glucksburg and a German mother (Battenberg/Mountbatten), that he would not be able to advance in the Royal Navy as a Greek citizen. Philip understood and said that he wanted to become a naturalized British subject. He knew his career in the British navy would not progress if he didn't give up his Greek nationality. Greece was then a neutral country, and England could not risk having even a distant heir to the Greek throne (Philip was sixth in the line of succession) killed by enemy action while serving on a British wars.h.i.+p.

"Then came the surprise," the Admiral wrote in his diary. "Prince Philip went on to say: 'My Uncle d.i.c.kie has ideas for me; he thinks I could marry Princess Elizabeth.' I was a bit taken aback and after a hesitation asked him: 'Are you really fond of her?'

" 'Oh, yes, very,' was the reply, and 'I write to her every week.' "

The Admiral added to his diary entry in brackets: "I wrote this conversation down directly afterwards and so it is pretty correct."

Two years later, in 1941, Philip, twenty years old, was still corresponding with the fifteen-year-old Princess. During a holiday visit in Cape Town, South Africa, his cousin Princess Alexandra of Greece saw the mids.h.i.+pman bent over his stationery. She asked to whom he was writing.

"Princess Elizabeth of England," said Philip.

"But she is only a baby!"

"But perhaps I'm going to marry her."

Alexandra was crestfallen. "I suspect I was a little in love with Philip myself," she admitted years later. "In my teens, there was a prospect that I might marry him.... Our families discussed it."

Philip had become the ward of relatives when his own family fell apart. His father, Prince Andrew, was the seventh child of George I of the h.e.l.lenes. His mother, Princess Andrew of Greece, was Alice the daughter of Prince Louis of Battenberg, First Sea Lord of England at the outbreak of World War I. His father was a professional soldier in the Greek army. When Turkey invaded Greece in 1922, Andrew was accused of treason for disobeying orders and abandoning his post under enemy fire. He was tried, convicted, and jailed. As he sat in prison facing possible execution by a firing squad, his wife appealed to her powerful British relatives to save her husband's life. The King, George V, remembered what had happened to his Russian cousin ("dear Nicky") and dispatched a s.h.i.+p to Greece to forcibly remove Andrew and his family. The Prince, accompanied by his wife, who was deaf, and their four daughters, boarded the HMS Calypso. Calypso. He was carrying an orange crate that contained his only son, Philip, eighteen months old. He was carrying an orange crate that contained his only son, Philip, eighteen months old.

The platinum blond toddler had been born on a kitchen table on the Greek island of Corfu in a house, Mon Repos, with no electricity, no hot water, and no indoor plumbing. He learned sign language to communicate with his mother, who had turned deaf after catching German measles at the age of four. He also learned English, French, and German but did not speak a word of Greek. After being evacuated from Greece with his family, he spent nine years living outside Paris with his parents, who were royal but not rich. In disgraced exile, they lived in borrowed houses, wore shabby hand-me-downs, and accepted the charity of relatives and friends to feed, clothe, and educate their children.

Within nine months in 1930, Philip's four older sisters, who had been educated in Germany, married German n.o.blemen. One was an SS Colonel on Himmler's personal staff, and the others were Princes who supported the n.a.z.is during World War II. One sister, Sophie, named her eldest son Karl Adolf in honor of Adolf Hitler. With his four daughters securely married, Philip's father abandoned his borrowed home to live on the yacht of his mistress in Monte Carlo, where he became addicted to the gaming tables. He left behind his ten-year-old son. His wife-Princess Andrew-collapsed. After the separation she suffered a nervous breakdown, which in retrospect appears to have been a traumatic menopause. No longer able to care for her young son, she was inst.i.tutionalized in Switzerland.

She emerged a few years later, found religion, and established the Christian Sisterhood of Martha and Mary, an order of nuns who helped the sick and needy in Greece. During the war she sheltered Jewish families in Greece and was posthumously honored for heroism by Israel. Even though she had been married and borne five children, she dedicated herself to celibacy. For the rest of her days she wore a gray habit belted by a white cord and with a veil and wimple.

While Philip's mother was incapacitated, his maternal grandmother, the Dowager Marchioness of Milford Haven, stepped in to care for the ten-year-old boy, who was sent to England. She shared the responsibility for Philip with her eldest son, George, the Marquess of Milford Haven. His wife, Nada, who bathed her feet in champagne, was as exotic as Edwina Mountbatten. Both were rich, restless, and reputed to be s.e.xually adventurous. During the 1934 custody trial for Gloria Vanderbilt in New York City, a maid testified to seeing evidence of a lesbian relations.h.i.+p between young Gloria's mother and Nada. "She put her arms around Mrs. Vanderbilt and kissed her," said the maid. The lurid testimony about "kissing on the lips" was not reported in the British newspapers because the Milford Havens were close to the British royal family and the press would not report anything that reflected negatively on the monarchy. That royal protection extended to Nada's husband, George Milford Haven, who was bis.e.xual and obsessed with p.o.r.nography. According to his personal financial records, he spent more than $100,000 ama.s.sing a vast collection of alb.u.ms of erotic photographs and sadom.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.tic books dealing with incest, h.o.m.os.e.xuality, b.e.s.t.i.a.lity, and family orgies, where mother and son joined father and daughter in s.e.xual relations. George invested a fortune in buying catalogs for artificial genitalia, aphrodisiacs, horsewhips, and instruments for self-flagellation. After his death, part of his p.o.r.nography collection ended up in a private case in the British Museum. He was only forty-six when he died of cancer in 1938, and his task of looking after Philip fell to George's younger brother, Lord Louis Mountbatten. "That's when Uncle d.i.c.kie took over," said Philip. "Before that no one thinks I ever had a father.... Most people think that d.i.c.kie's my father, anyway."

Within ten years Philip had attended four schools, all paid for by various relatives. One rich aunt financed his first two years at The Elms, a school for wealthy Americans in St. Cloud, near Paris. His British relatives paid for his next four years at the Old Tabor School, Cheam, in Surrey, one of England's oldest, most traditional preparatory schools. Then his sisters decided he should be educated in Germany, so at the age of twelve-in 1933-he was enrolled in Schloss Salem in Baden, a school run by a brother-in-law. "Scholars.h.i.+p was not important when Philip and I were going to school at Salem," recalled actress Lilly Lessing. "The emphasis then was on courage, honesty, and taking care of people who were weaker than you... and Philip, who was very athletic, excelled even then. He was very much influenced by Dr. Kurt Hahn-we all were-but Dr. Hahn was Jewish, so he had to leave Germany. He sought refuge in Scotland, where he started Gordonstoun, and Philip followed him a year later."

Kurt Hahn, who was described by some former students as "strong and dogmatic, probably a repressed h.o.m.os.e.xual," ran an experimental school that became the forerunner for Outward Bound. All discussion of s.e.x was forbidden at Hahn's school, where the military curriculum included a rigorous regime of exhausting exercise, two icy showers a day, and bracing hikes before breakfast. Philip, who became one of Hahn's most devoted followers, thrived at Gordonstoun, earning good grades and excelling at sports. He became captain of the cricket and hockey teams.

In his five years at Gordonstoun, his family never visited him once, and without a home of his own, he was shuffled off to relatives for holidays. He received some spending money from one of his uncles, the Crown Prince of Sweden, but it was never enough to cover all his expenses. Frequently he had to borrow clothes from his friends, who remember scrambling to find him a suit, cuff links, and collar studs so that he could be dressed properly for the wedding of his cousin Marina to the Duke of Kent.

After graduation from Gordonstoun, Philip wanted to join the Royal Air Force and become a fighter pilot. But his uncle d.i.c.kie steered him into the navy, saying it was the only branch of military service acceptable to the aristocracy. "The RAF is for the working cla.s.s.... All of our best kings have served in the Royal Navy," said Mountbatten. "I firmly believe that a naval training is the best possible training for royal duties." So Philip enrolled in the Royal Naval College at Dartmouth.

He was quite candid about why when he met the political diarist Sir Henry ("Chips") Channon. While visiting his mother in Athens, Philip spoke openly to Channon about his reasons for not becoming a fighter pilot, and Channon recorded the conversation on January 21, 1941: "I went to an enjoyable Greek c.o.c.ktail party. Philip of Greece was there. He is extraordinarily handsome. He is to be our Prince Consort, and that is why he is serving in our Navy."

By then the young mids.h.i.+pman knew his life's direction and was steering himself toward an arranged marriage to the future Queen of England. Yet three years before, he had fallen in love with the most photographed girl in the world. Her name was Cobina Wright Jr., and Philip was bewitched. He met her in Venice during a holiday visit to his aunt Aspasia, the widow of King Alexander of Greece.

Philip had grown up around royalty-in addition to his uncle the Crown Prince of Sweden, another uncle was the exiled King of Greece, who was married to Princess Marie Bonaparte. She had once been the lover of the Prime Minister of France and later a disciple and patroness of Sigmund Freud. Philip's cousin Princess Alexandra married the King of Yugoslavia, and his favorite cousin, Princess Frederika, granddaughter of the Kaiser and a former Hitler Youth member, became Queen of Greece. As a child Philip had spent time at Kensington Palace in London, the royal palaces of Bucharest and Sinaia, and the royal residence in Transylvania, visiting his cousin Prince Michael of Rumania. He called Queen Marie of Rumania "Aunt Missie." He also visited another aunt, Queen Sophie of Greece, who was the Kaiser's sister.

Accustomed to White Russians with gray teeth and European royals with high cheekbones, Philip had never experienced the dazzling megawatt glamour of American movie stars. Cobina Wright Jr. was all of that and more. She was Hollywood and and high society, which was America's version of royalty. A spellbinding blond beauty, she had appeared on the covers of high society, which was America's version of royalty. A spellbinding blond beauty, she had appeared on the covers of Life Life and and Ladies' Home Journal Ladies' Home Journal as part of the Brenda Frazier debutante set. "That was when society really mattered," said her mother, Cobina Wright Sr., a society columnist for the Hearst newspapers and a social mountaineer on the level of Philip's uncle d.i.c.kie. as part of the Brenda Frazier debutante set. "That was when society really mattered," said her mother, Cobina Wright Sr., a society columnist for the Hearst newspapers and a social mountaineer on the level of Philip's uncle d.i.c.kie.

"My little Cobina was more than just a mere starlet," she said. "After all, her father-my former husband-was a multimillionaire who was in the Social Register. Social Register." Following a nasty public divorce, Cobina Sr. lost her lofty listing in the Social Register. Social Register. Without her husband's money she was forced to earn a living, which she did by collecting the celebrities of her day-generals, politicians, movie stars, and those she breathlessly described as "the creme de la creme of society." Without her husband's money she was forced to earn a living, which she did by collecting the celebrities of her day-generals, politicians, movie stars, and those she breathlessly described as "the creme de la creme of society."

"Mother was-well, so boisterous, so aggressive, always striving so hard to get to know the most famous, the most important people, that it used to embarra.s.s me," her daughter said.

An enterprising stage mother, Cobina Wright Sr. was grooming "little Cobina" for a career in the movies to be capped by an ill.u.s.trious marriage. "Certainly, Cobina is the 'most' girl," she said in 1938. "Most photographed, most publicized, most sought after." By then her promotions had persuaded press agents to dub her eighteen-year-old daughter as "Miss Manhattan of the New York World's Fair," "the Best Dressed New York Supper Club Hostess," and "the Most Beautiful Girl in Palm Beach." She also made sure her daughter was described as "the darling of high society."

At the time Cobina Jr. met Prince Philip, she was singing in nightclubs, modeling for John Robert Powers, and working under contract to 20th Century Fox, along with Linda Darnell and Gene Tierney, later the sultry lover of John F. Kennedy and future wife of Oleg Ca.s.sini.

Philip was attracted the minute he saw the stunning young woman sitting in Harry's Bar in Venice with her mother and an Italian Countess. He was struck by her blinding good looks. She had none of the stony haughtiness of his royal European female cousins and looked more beguiling than the snooty young women of the aristocracy who were pursuing him so aggressively. This young woman combined the sunny insouciance of California beaches with the sleek sophistication of Manhattan nightclubs. Blond, lithe, and graceful, she was as bright and s.h.i.+ny as a new American penny. Her long, lean, leggy beauty matched his own. He immediately left his cousin, Princess Alexandra, and strode across the room to Cobina's table, where he nonchalantly accepted the curtsies of the two older women, who jumped up as he approached. They had recognized him at once and were enthralled to be in his presence. Young Cobina did not know who he was, but she stood up anyway and started to curtsy like her mother. Philip quickly extended his foot as if to trip her.

"Don't you dare," he said. "I'm just a discredited Balkan prince of no particular merit or distinction. My name is Philip of Greece."

"Just Philip of Greece? No last name?" she asked.

"Just Philip of Greece," he said.

Little Cobina was intrigued as Philip tried to explain that, traditionally, royal princes did not have last names because everyone in the land was supposed to know who they were. Only the lower orders needed last names for identification. "Because there are so many of them," said Philip, smiling, "and so few of us."

He told her how he always crossed out "Mr." at the top of the Admiralty forms and wrote in "Philip, Prince of Greece." Somehow he managed to sound almost democratic and down-to-earth as he described the imperial prerogatives that separated royals from commoners. He dismissed the ceremonial rights as bothersome, and Cobina was charmed. Philip was so entranced that he stayed in Venice for the next three weeks to be her escort. They accepted every party invitation her mother engineered, dancing and dining and drinking other people's champagne. Later, Cobina Sr. said the couple spent "pa.s.sionate" evenings in gondolas on the Grand Ca.n.a.l. "Afterward Philip followed me to London," confided her daughter.

Ignoring the marriage that awaited him with Princess Elizabeth, Philip gave his heart to the American beauty. He proposed to her, insisted they consider themselves engaged, and looked upon Cobina Sr. as his future mother-in-law. He even inscribed a photograph of himself: "To my dear Madre, from Philip." He vowed to pursue her daughter to the United States.

"I shall come to America and get a job," he said, "and take the name of Augustus Jenks."

Cobina Sr. was ecstatic that a prince was proposing marriage to her daughter. That he sprang from one of Europe's most discredited royal families and lived on charity was only a slight concern. "A prince without a princ.i.p.ality" was how she described the handsome young Viking. With or without money, he was still royalty. So she was determined to encourage his affair with her daughter. She gleefully accepted his suggestion that he leave Venice to follow them to London, and she was flattered when he invited himself to share their invitation from British actress Bea Lillie for a weekend at her country home.

"Philip gave me an impression at the time of a huge, hungry dog," said his cousin Alexandra, "rather like a friendly collie who had never had a kennel of his own and responded to every overture with eager tail wagging."

After three weeks in Venice, Cobina and Philip spent another week in England, dining, dancing, and walking London's streets, hand in hand. They cried as they watched the French film Mayerling, Mayerling, a sad romance starring Charles Boyer and Danielle Darrieux. The night before Cobina and her mother sailed for America, Philip went to the Claridge Hotel to say good-bye. He gave Cobina a small gold bracelet with the words "I Love You" dangling close to a Greek flag. He cried again as he kissed her good-bye. a sad romance starring Charles Boyer and Danielle Darrieux. The night before Cobina and her mother sailed for America, Philip went to the Claridge Hotel to say good-bye. He gave Cobina a small gold bracelet with the words "I Love You" dangling close to a Greek flag. He cried again as he kissed her good-bye.

For the next three years he wrote to her twice a week. "They were impa.s.sioned love letters," said Gant Gaither, one of Cobina's lifelong friends. "He said he planned to woo her to marriage, no matter what. He desperately wanted to marry her, but Cobina Jr. just wasn't all that interested."

Other friends confirm the romance. "No question about it," said writer Stephen Birmingham, who spent hours with Cobina Jr. in 1973 to write an article for Town & Country. Town & Country. "She did have an affair with Prince Philip, and her mother wanted her to marry him, but she just didn't want to. She fell in love with Palmer Beaudette instead and married him in 1941. Her mother never forgave her." "She did have an affair with Prince Philip, and her mother wanted her to marry him, but she just didn't want to. She fell in love with Palmer Beaudette instead and married him in 1941. Her mother never forgave her."

Cobina Sr. kept writing to the young Prince long after her daughter had discarded him to marry Beaudette, an heir to an automobile fortune. The resilient Prince, still serving in the Royal Navy, resumed correspondence with his cousin Princess Elizabeth of England. But for the rest of his life, he, like his father, would be susceptible to the charms of actresses.

"At that time, most girls had someone they wrote to at sea or at the front," recalled Elizabeth's governess, Marion ("Crawfie") Crawford. "I think at the start she liked to be able to say that she, too, was sending off an occasional parcel and writing letters to a man who was fighting for his country."

One day Crawfie noticed Philip's photograph on the Princess's mantelpiece.

"Is that altogether wise?" Crawfie asked. "A number of people come and go. You know what that will lead to. People will begin all sorts of gossip about you."

"Oh, dear, I suppose they will," the Princess replied.

The picture disappeared a few days later. In its place was another one of Philip with a bushy blond mustache and beard covering half his face.

"There you are, Crawfie," said the Princess. "I defy anyone to recognize who that is. He's completely incognito in that one."

Rumors started anyway, and soon the backstairs gossip ended up in a newspaper item that it was Prince Philip of Greece whose photograph graced the bedroom of Princess Elizabeth. Uncle d.i.c.kie was delighted.

"Dear Philip" and "Dear Lilibet" letters crisscrossed from Windsor Castle to destroyers in the Mediterranean, the Straits of Bonifacio, Algiers, Malta, Suez, Ceylon, and Australia. The mids.h.i.+pman, who had formally renounced his claim to the Greek throne, was promoted in 1942 from the rank of sublieutenant to lieutenant. The next year Philip returned to England and did not go back to sea for four months. During that time he was invited to Windsor Castle for Christmas. Years later he said he accepted the invitation "only because I'd nowhere particular to go." He told risque jokes to Queen Mary, who p.r.o.nounced him "a very bright young man." He regaled King George VI with reports of German aircraft dive-bombing his s.h.i.+p off Sicily and bragged about dodging mines and torpedoes, accentuating his part in helping win a great victory. "It was a highly entertaining account," the King said later. Knowing that Philip had been cited for valor, the King had listened attentively, but there was something about the brash young man with his loud laugh and blunt manner that irritated him. As an overprotective father, he could not envision his beloved Lilibet marrying any man, and certainly not one as rough as Philip. Even worse, he wasn't rich and didn't dress like a gentleman. "His wardrobe is ghastly," said the King. "Simply ghastly."

Lord Mountbatten's valet, John Dean, agreed. "Prince Philip did not seem to have much in the way of civilian clothing," he recalled. "His civilian wardrobe was, in fact, scantier than that of many a bank clerk.... I think he had to manage more or less on his naval pay. He did not bring much with him when he came to London, sometimes only a razor.... He did not have his own hairbrushes.... Either he was not too well looked after in the navy, or he was careless, for often he did not have a clean s.h.i.+rt. At night, after he had gone to bed, I washed his s.h.i.+rt and socks and had them ready for him in the morning. I also did his mending."

Philip's father, sixty-two years old, died in 1944 in the arms of his rich mistress. He had not seen his wife or son for five years. Penniless, Prince Andrew left his only son an estate that consisted of a battered suitcase filled with two moth-eaten suits, a worn leather frame, and a set of ivory shaving brushes. Philip did not get around to collecting his meager inheritance until 1946. Then he had the suits altered to fit him so he would have civilian clothes to wear when not in uniform. But the s.h.i.+ny gabardine hand-me-downs did not impress His Majesty, who counted a man without tweeds or plus fours as a man without breeding. Elizabeth had insisted that her father invite Philip to join them for a grouse shoot at Windsor, but the King balked because Philip did not own plus fours. Philip didn't know what they were. The King explained that the trousers were so called because they were four inches longer than ordinary knickerbockers-the baggy knee pants that golfers wore.

"Then he can wear a pair of yours," Elizabeth said to her father.

The King grudgingly agreed. He still retained reservations about the young man who never wore pajamas or bedroom slippers, had no formal clothes, and was unembarra.s.sed by his scuffed shoes. The King felt that Prince Philip had been reared as a commoner, not as a royal.

The King's private secretary, Sir Alan (Tommy) Lascelles, dismissed Philip as a hooligan. "He was rough, ill-mannered, uneducated, and would probably not be faithful," he said, according to writer Philip Ziegler.

The monarch marked a man by what he wore and could not understand his lack of interest in b.u.t.tons and bows. While Philip was always courteous and deferential to "Uncle Bertie and Aunt Elizabeth," he was still too a.s.sertive and familiar to suit the King. As far as the Queen was concerned, Philip made himself too too much at home; she rebuked him several times for ordering the servants around. Neither she nor her husband realized then that their gawky seventeen-year-old daughter had marked the young man for marriage. much at home; she rebuked him several times for ordering the servants around. Neither she nor her husband realized then that their gawky seventeen-year-old daughter had marked the young man for marriage.

"I realized they were courting long before it got in the newspapers," said Charles Mellis, who for twelve years was chef on the royal train. "I saw something of the way they laughed, teased, and looked at each other while traveling together. And I shall never forget the time I heard the Queen Mother call out to them, 'Now, you two, stop kicking each other under the table and behave properly.' "

Princess Margaret teased her sister unmercifully about having a crush on Philip, but the King and Queen seemed oblivious. They noticed that Elizabeth was growing up in 1944 when they attended a small dinner dance given by the d.u.c.h.ess of Kent. There they saw Philip dancing almost every dance with their elder daughter and being photographed helping her with her fur coat. But they never considered the prospect of marriage until shortly after Elizabeth's eighteenth birthday, when Uncle d.i.c.kie nudged his cousin King George of Greece to broach the subject with her father. King George VI turned on Mountbatten, saying he "was moving too fast." Later, in a letter to his mother, Queen Mary, he wrote: We both think she is far too young for that now. She has never met any young men of her own age.... I like Philip. He is intelligent, has a good sense of humour and thinks about things in the right way.... We are going to tell George that P. had better not think any more about it at present. We both think she is far too young for that now. She has never met any young men of her own age.... I like Philip. He is intelligent, has a good sense of humour and thinks about things in the right way.... We are going to tell George that P. had better not think any more about it at present.

Philip's plotting uncle was not to be discouraged. He seized the promise implied by "at present" and began campaigning to get Philip to switch his citizens.h.i.+p and religion so he would be perfectly situated for a royal marriage later. With British troops engaged on the side of the Greek government in the civil war, Mountbatten was told that making Philip a British subject might be misinterpreted and indicate British support for the Greek royalists or, conversely, be misconstrued as a sign that Britain regarded the royalist cause as lost and was giving Philip some sort of sanctuary. So the issue had to be postponed until the Greek general election and plebiscite on the monarchy had been held in March 1946.

Mindful of the animosity toward his own German roots, Mountbatten worried about Philip's guttural surname-Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glucksburg-and his ties to his sisters and their German husbands, who supported Hitler's Third Reich. Philip was especially close to his brother-in-law, Berthold, the Margrave of Baden. Mountbatten also fretted about Prince Philip of Hesse, for whom Philip had been named. That German relation was. .h.i.tler's personal messenger and functioned so effectively for the Fuhrer that he was awarded an honorary generals.h.i.+p in the Storm Troopers. Until his death in 1943, another of Philip's uncles-Prince Christopher of Hesse-was the head of the secret phone-tapping service in Goring's research office; this unit eventually became the Gestapo, the n.a.z.i's secret state police.

Mountbatten was determined to put as much distance as possible between Philip and his German roots. The wily uncle knew how crucial it was for his nephew to be accepted by the British establishment, so he wrote to the British Commissioner of Oaths, saying that Philip had lived most of his life in England and joined the Royal Navy before the war with the intention of making it his life's career. "He has been brought up as an Englishman who rides well, shoots well, and plays all games such as football with more than usual ability," wrote Mountbatten.

He then wrote to Philip, saying that he was proceeding "full steam ahead" on the naturalization process so that Philip would be "totally acceptable" to pursue his romance with Princess Elizabeth. Philip pleaded with his uncle to slow down.

"Please, I beg of you," he wrote, "not too much advice in an affair of the heart or I shall be forced to do the wooing by proxy."

Philip knew how upset the King and Queen were about the article that had appeared in The New York Times The New York Times ent.i.tled "Marriage a la Mode" and a.s.serting that the most likely candidate for the hand of Princess Elizabeth was Prince Philip of Greece. The story had been officially denied by the Palace. But factory workers in England, depressed by six years of war, were starved for romance. When their future Queen made her first public appearance after the unconditional surrender of Germany in 1945, the crowds startled her with their boisterous shouts: "Where's Philip?" "How's Philip?" "Are you going to marry Philip?" ent.i.tled "Marriage a la Mode" and a.s.serting that the most likely candidate for the hand of Princess Elizabeth was Prince Philip of Greece. The story had been officially denied by the Palace. But factory workers in England, depressed by six years of war, were starved for romance. When their future Queen made her first public appearance after the unconditional surrender of Germany in 1945, the crowds startled her with their boisterous shouts: "Where's Philip?" "How's Philip?" "Are you going to marry Philip?"

"It was horrible," she later told her sister.

"Poor Lilibet," said Margaret. "Nothing of your own. Not even your love affair."

FIVE.

By 1945 the House of Windsor had been remodeled. The Windsors had repainted their dark German foundation with bright British colors and fas.h.i.+oned the exterior with an attractive new facade. The false front concealed the family flaws and allowed the renovated German house to look decidedly English-so English that by the end of World War II, the dynasty designed by dodgery was never more popular. Having removed itself from politics and no longer in danger of being damaged by factional disputes, the inst.i.tution stood as a model of respectability. The monarchy, personified by the royal family, symbolized duty, decorum, and decency.

After the Allies crushed n.a.z.i Germany, Britons discarded their courageous wartime leader Prime Minister Churchill, but they embraced their shy little monarch. On the day Germany surrendered, crowds surrounded Buckingham Palace, cheering and shouting for their beloved King and Queen. The royal family, which embodied Britain's sense of high moral purpose, had become the center of life in the United Kingdom. As the royal couple stepped out onto the balcony to wave, a voice in the throng shouted: "Thank G.o.d for a good King!" Deeply moved, George VI stepped forward and stammered: "Th-th-thank G.o.d for a g-g-good people!"

With the war finally over, the King wanted to make up for lost time with his family, especially with his elder daughter. He planned picnics at Sandringham and shoots, hunts, and deer stalks at Balmoral so she could take part in his favorite pursuits. Elizabeth enjoyed spending time with her father, but the nineteen-year-old heir presumptive, who had been confined to Windsor Castle for six years, longed to sample the swing music of London nightclubs.

The dutiful daughter was growing up. She had her own lady-in-waiting, her own bedroom suite, and her own chauffeur-driven Daimler. She had never gone to school or visited a foreign country and had yet to draw her own bath, prepare a meal, or pay a bill; but she was selecting her own clothes. While her future subjects were still restricted to clothing coupons and wearing skirts made of curtains and trousers cut down from overcoats, she had her own couturier and was ordering strapless satin evening gowns.

"I'd like a car of my own, too," she told a friend, "but there's so d.a.m.n much family talk about which make I must have that I don't think I'll ever get one."

Everything pertaining to Elizabeth was subject to intense discussion. Her father was not a man of initiative. Afraid of putting the wrong foot forward, he worried constantly about appearances and what people might think. He did not feel secure about making a decision until he had consulted all his courtiers. His wife, who rarely worried about anything, could not always make up her mind about what was best for their older daughter. So whether it was a car, a fur coat, or a new horse for Elizabeth, it was never a casual decision for her parents.

"They wanted the best for her," recalled Crawfie, her governess, "and it is never easy for parents to decide what that best is."

The only topic the King and Queen quickly reached agreement on was Philip of Greece. They felt their daughter was far too interested in the navy lieutenant, but only because she had not met any other men. So they started organizing tea dances, dinner parties, theater outings, and formal b.a.l.l.s so she could meet the eligible sons of the aristocracy. They also invited the single military officers stationed near Windsor Castle. Elizabeth p.r.o.nounced the chinless aristocrats as "pompous, stuffy, and boring," and her sister dismissed the officers as afflicted with "bad teeth, thick lips, and foul-smelling breath." Her parents' diversionary tactic was not lost on her grandmother Queen Mary, who referred to the cl.u.s.ter of young officers suddenly popping up at the Palace as "the Body Guard." Queen Mary's lady-in-waiting thought the King was simply an overpossessive father who could not face the prospect of his elder daughter's falling in love. "He's desperate," she said.

In 1946, when Philip returned to England, Elizabeth invited him to visit the family at Balmoral. She had not seen him for over three years. It had been Christmas of 1943 when he had chased her through the corridors of Windsor Castle, wearing a huge set of clattering false teeth that made her scream with laughter.

"I once or twice spent Christmas at Windsor, because I'd nowhere particular to go," Philip admitted many years later. "I suppose if I'd just been a casual acquaintance, it would all have been frightfully significant. But if you're related-I mean, I knew half the people there, they were all relations-it isn't so extraordinary to be on kind of family relations.h.i.+p terms with somebody. You don't necessarily have to think about marriage."

At the time, Elizabeth had delighted in her cousin's* juvenile antics and practical jokes, especially when he offered her nuts from a can and a toy snake popped out or when he handed her dinner rolls and made what she called "rude intestinal noises." She had laughed so hard at the time, she couldn't continue eating. Drawn to Philip's broad slapstick humor and his handsome good looks, she could hardly wait to see him again. She began asking her governess about love and marriage. juvenile antics and practical jokes, especially when he offered her nuts from a can and a toy snake popped out or when he handed her dinner rolls and made what she called "rude intestinal noises." She had laughed so hard at the time, she couldn't continue eating. Drawn to Philip's broad slapstick humor and his handsome good looks, she could hardly wait to see him again. She began asking her governess about love and marriage.

"What, Crawfie," she asked, "makes a person fall in love?"

"I would try to explain to her the deep common interests that cannot only first draw a man and a woman together immediately, but hold them together for life," said the governess. "The Princess listened attentively."

"I guess it really started in earnest at Balmoral [in 1946]," Philip said, recalling the pretty twenty-year-old Princess, who still laughed at his jokes.

"I still recall the occasions when Prince Philip was an honored guest of Princess Lilibet-as we all called her-at those after-the-theater parties when he was on leave from the navy," recalled Rene Roussin, the former royal chef. "Then I would be asked-as a special request from the Princess-to send up some lobster patties, of which Prince Philip was especially fond."

After Philip had spent several days with the royal family at their Scottish castle, the King felt he had overstayed his welcome. "The boy must go south," he told his favorite equerry, RAF Wing Commander Peter Townsend. So Philip left. He later invited Elizabeth to visit him at the Kensington Palace apartment of his aunt the Marchioness of Milford Haven and the Chester Street home of the Mountbattens. He also took Elizabeth to visit Mountbatten's older daughter, Patricia, and her new husband, John Brabourne, at their modest cottage in Kent.

"It was an absolutely foreign way of life for her," recalled Brabourne. "She had never lived that sort of existence, and she was enchanted, though her maid could not believe it when she saw where we lived."

Philip also took Elizabeth to Coppins, the home of the d.u.c.h.ess of Kent, in Buckinghams.h.i.+re, where he had spent many of his sh.o.r.e leaves. The Greek d.u.c.h.ess, known as Marina, who had been imported to marry the h.o.m.os.e.xual Duke of Kent, was one of Philip's favorite relatives. After several visits to Coppins, Elizabeth trusted her enough to confide, "Daddy doesn't want me to see too much of Philip or anyone, so please don't tell him." The d.u.c.h.ess never did.

Philip's cousin Alexandra, who knew about the couple's secret visits to Coppins, remembered his pa.s.sion for Cobina Wright Jr. and wondered if he was simply toying with Elizabeth.

"I only hope Philip isn't just flirting with her," she told Marina. "He's so casual that he flirts without realizing it."

"I think his flirting days are over," replied the d.u.c.h.ess. "He would be the one to be hurt now if it was all just a flirtation or if it is not to be. One thing I'm sure about, those two would never do anything to hurt each other."