Reflecting on their courtship many years later, Philip said: "I suppose one thing led to another. I suppose I began to think about it seriously... oh, let me think now, when I got back in 1946 and went to Balmoral. It was probably then that we, that it became, you know, that we began to think about it seriously, and even talk about it...."

After spending time at Balmoral in August 1946, Philip proposed and Elizabeth accepted-secretly. This was the first time she had acted on her own without first consulting her parents. She then caused the first real argument she ever had with them by insisting she wanted to marry the penniless Greek Prince. She knew that the Royal Marriages Act of 1772 specified that descendants of King George II had to get the permission of the monarch to marry and that permission had to be "declared in council" before the marriage could take place. Elizabeth wanted her father's permission, but he did not want to give it. He confided his discomfort to his equerry, who shared the King's opinion of the brash young man and agreed that the King should delay making any decision.

Elizabeth's only ally within the royal family was her grandmother Queen Mary, whose arranged marriage to King George V had grown into a loving union that had produced five children. So when Prince Philip was ridiculed in her presence, she was not receptive. She frowned when he was derided as a product of "a crank school with theories of complete social equality where the boys were taught to mix with all and sundry." Queen Mary said nothing and stared straight ahead.

"What sort of background would this be for a son-in-law to the King?" she was asked.

"Useful," she said curtly.

The cautious King consulted his courtiers about the possibility of his daughter's marrying Philip of Greece, and the courtiers reported back the results of a Sunday Pictorial Sunday Pictorial magazine poll, showing that 40 percent of Britain's cla.s.s-conscious readers did not favor the marriage because Philip was "a foreigner." magazine poll, showing that 40 percent of Britain's cla.s.s-conscious readers did not favor the marriage because Philip was "a foreigner."

A century earlier, when Prince Albert came to England as Queen Victoria's husband, the courtiers called him "that German." They called his aides "German spies." Now, more than one hundred years later, the courtiers exhibited a similar xenophobia. They called Philip "Phil the Greek."

Philip labeled himself as Scandinavian, "particularly Danish," he told an interviewer. "We spoke English at home... but then the conversation would go into French. Then it went into German on occasion because we had German cousins. If you couldn't think of a word in one language, you tended to go off in another."

The daughter of the d.u.c.h.ess of Marlborough remembered her brothers mocking Philip behind his back for not being an aristocrat. "He did not know the country life," she said. "He came from the other side of the tracks, which attracted Elizabeth. That and the fact that he was dead glamorous, absolutely drop dead glamorous. Although he was never quite digested into the British establishment, he decided in time to become just as pretentious, dull, and stuffy as the rest of us, while pushing his own personality uphill."

Elizabeth stood fast against her father's disapproval. She argued that she hadn't asked to be born and that if she, as an accident of birth, had to spend her life doing her duty as Queen, the least he could do was let her marry the man she loved. "After all, you married Mummy," she said. "And she wasn't even royalty. Philip is." The King sighed and said he felt Elizabeth was too young to get married. The Princess invoked Queen Victoria. "She was only twenty years old when she married Prince Albert, and look how happy that marriage was."

The King was not persuaded. As a father, he fretted about Philip's commitment to fidelity. He had been apprised of some of the young lieutenant's sh.o.r.e leaves with his navy buddy Michael Parker and their visits to brothels in Alexandria; he did not like the sound of Philip's continuing relationship with his childhood friend Helene Foufounis Cordet, and he heartily disapproved of Philip's midnight crawls through London's West End with his cousin David Milford Haven. But the King was growing anxious over his daughter's increasing willfulness and determination to marry Philip. She knew that because she was heir presumptive, her marriage required her father's approval as well as that of the government and the Commonwealth. Yet she alarmed her father when she intimated that if he did not give her permission to marry Philip, she would follow the footsteps of her uncle, the Duke of Windsor, who abdicated to marry the person he loved.

The Princess's apparent willingness to put love before duty was noted even by the U.S. Amba.s.sador to the Court of St. James's, Lewis Douglas, a close friend of the royal family. He informed the State Department in a 1947 memo: ... it was learned that Princess Elizabeth had determined to marry [Prince Philip] and declared that if objections were raised she would not hesitate to follow the example of her uncle, King Edward VIII, and abdicate. She has a firm character. ... it was learned that Princess Elizabeth had determined to marry [Prince Philip] and declared that if objections were raised she would not hesitate to follow the example of her uncle, King Edward VIII, and abdicate. She has a firm character.

More than forty years later, one of the King's former aides quaked at the mention of the 1936 abdication by the Duke of Windsor, which is still considered a sacrilege within royal circles. "The Princess did not threaten to do that... exactly, exactly," the aide said in an effort to "clarify" the record. "She only indicated that she could understand the romance behind her uncle's rationale. That's a far cry from declaring her intention to abdicate."

In public, Elizabeth could no longer hide her feelings. Her adoration of Philip was so obvious that rumors began circulating, prompting the foreign press to report that the couple were "informally engaged." The British press did not dare to make such a conjecture. Still, nervous about world opinion, the King told the Palace to officially deny the report. Five such denials were issued in the fall of 1945.

After Philip proposed to Elizabeth, he applied for naturalization as Lieutenant Philip Mountbatten, RN. First he took his uncle's advice, then his name. Years later Philip discounted his uncle's influence. "I wasn't madly in favour [of the name]," he told a biographer in 1971, "but in the end I was persuaded, and anyway I couldn't think of a better alternative.... Contrary to public impression, Uncle d.i.c.kie didn't have that that much to do with the course of my life." much to do with the course of my life."

Having given up his royal t.i.tle, Philip next renounced the Greek Orthodox Church to join the Church of England. On December 16, 1946, The New York Times The New York Times reported on the front page that "only politics, which has blighted so many royal romances, is delaying the announcement of the engagement of Princess Elizabeth, heiress to the British throne, and Prince Philip of Greece." Again the Palace issued a denial. reported on the front page that "only politics, which has blighted so many royal romances, is delaying the announcement of the engagement of Princess Elizabeth, heiress to the British throne, and Prince Philip of Greece." Again the Palace issued a denial.

The King was beside himself. Becoming increasingly irritable and bad tempered, he drank heavily from the whiskey decanter that he insisted be placed next to his plate at every dinner. His war-weary country, though, was still sc.r.a.ping by on rations for food and fuel. Besides these shortages, Britain was beset by another problem: with millions of military being demobilized, the ranks of the unemployed swelled. And with Winston Churchill banished in defeat, the King was forced to deal with a new Prime Minister in Clement Attlee and a Labor government that the conservative monarch considered "far too socialist." (When someone told Churchill that Attlee was a modest man, Churchill agreed: "He has every reason to be modest.") The King wrote gloomily in 1946, "Food, clothes and fuel are the main topics of conversation with us all." He grew impatient with everyone, especially his cousin d.i.c.kie Mountbatten, who strutted like a peac.o.c.k after the new Labor government appointed him Viceroy of India, where he was to oversee that nation's progress to independence. The Queen complained that d.i.c.kie was "showing off his medals again" and getting more coverage on Movietone News* than the King. Years later she would ridicule Mountbatten's two-column entry in than the King. Years later she would ridicule Mountbatten's two-column entry in Who's Who Who's Who as overblown and characteristically pompous. She became especially annoyed when he insisted on having his own honors list so he could bestow knighthoods in India just as the King did in England. She expressed her objection to Prime Minister Attlee, who agreed with her. "No one in a century has had such powers," Attlee said, "but he insisted as a precondition to accepting the job." As irritated as the King was, he felt that his biggest problem was not Mountbatten but his nephew Philip and the problems he posed as consort to the future Queen of England. as overblown and characteristically pompous. She became especially annoyed when he insisted on having his own honors list so he could bestow knighthoods in India just as the King did in England. She expressed her objection to Prime Minister Attlee, who agreed with her. "No one in a century has had such powers," Attlee said, "but he insisted as a precondition to accepting the job." As irritated as the King was, he felt that his biggest problem was not Mountbatten but his nephew Philip and the problems he posed as consort to the future Queen of England.

His beloved daughter was balking at having to leave her secret fiance at home to accompany her family on a ten-week tour of South Africa, which would include her twenty-first birthday. But the King insisted. The trip had been planned for four months to thank the South Africans for throwing out their Prime Minister and supporting Great Britain during the war. The King believed that the wounds splitting South Africa could be healed by the balm of royalty. As the first monarch to travel with his family, he wanted Elizabeth by his side as he opened the Union Parliament in Cape Town. Expecting a royal reception from the Africans, he decreed a ration-busting wardrobe for himself and his family, consisting of pearls and diamonds, cloths of gold, and endless yards of silk and satin, which required weeks of fittings and interminable work by dozens of seamstresses. The ordinary Briton received an annual clothing ration of 48 to 66 coupons. But the royal family received 160 extra coupons a year. For their South Africa wardrobe, they were issued 4,329 coupons. The New York Times The New York Times described the result as "the most sumptuous wardrobe ever worn by British royalty." described the result as "the most sumptuous wardrobe ever worn by British royalty."

On her twenty-first birthday Elizabeth was to make a coming-of-age speech in which she, as the future monarch, dedicated herself to her countrymen. The speech was broadcast around the world. Dutifully she rehea.r.s.ed it, but each time, she said, the solemn words made her cry: I declare before you that my whole life, whether it be long or short, shall be devoted to your service and the service of our great Imperial Commonwealth to which we all belong. I declare before you that my whole life, whether it be long or short, shall be devoted to your service and the service of our great Imperial Commonwealth to which we all belong.* But I shall not have strength to carry out this resolution unless you join in it with me, as I now invite you to do; I know that your support will be unfailingly given. G.o.d bless all of you who are willing to share it. But I shall not have strength to carry out this resolution unless you join in it with me, as I now invite you to do; I know that your support will be unfailingly given. G.o.d bless all of you who are willing to share it.

Finally, against his better judgment, the King relented. He agreed to allow his daughter to marry Philip, provided Philip, who changed his name, his nationality, and his religion, was deemed acceptable by the British establishment. His uncle quickly introduced him to Britain's most powerful press lords, who agreed that his relationship to Queen Victoria (he, like Elizabeth, was a great-great-grandchild) and his service in the Royal Navy qualified him as suitable. Still, the King declined to announce the engagement. He ordered absolute secrecy about any future plans until after the tour of South Africa, hoping against hope that Elizabeth might change her mind. He instructed the Palace to keep denying the rumors swarming around the couple, and he demanded total discretion from Philip. He forbade him to be seen with Elizabeth in public until after the royal family returned in 1947. He had told Philip that he could not see the family off at Waterloo Station, and he could not go aboard their ship at Portsmouth to say good-bye. The King would not allow his future son-in-law to attend the bon voyage luncheon at Buckingham Palace with the royal household staff or to be at the pier to welcome the royal family home ten weeks later. He did say Philip could write his fiancee during the trip, and he allowed him to attend his engagement party with the royal family and Lord and Lady Mountbatten at their London home on Chester Street two nights before departure. There the two families secretly celebrated the announcement, which would not be made official for several months. That night the King drank heavily.

Aboard ship, the Queen took comfort in the kindness of Surgeon Rear Admiral Henry "Chippy" White, who accompanied the royal family to South Africa, where he retired the following year. "Chippy White, whose son was my uncle, was knighted for his service to the King," said Hugh Bygott-Webb, "but I don't think that KCVO [Knight Commander of the Victorian Order] included his affair with the King's wife. Now, I have no absolute proof of this love affair with the Queen, who later became the Queen Mother, but their romance, accompanied by love letters, has been a.s.sumed within the family for years and years. The letters remain in the family and always will."

In photographs taken during the South African tour, the Queen beamed while her daughter Elizabeth looked bored and distracted, except during the celebration of her twenty-first birthday on April 21, 1947, in Cape Town. Feted with salutes all day and a grand ball and fireworks in the evening, Elizabeth spent the morning opening birthday presents of extravagant proportions: a platinum brooch in the shape of a flame lily set with three hundred diamonds and paid for with one week's pocket money collected from forty-two thousand Rhodesian schoolchildren; a pair of diamond flower-petal earrings from the members of the royal households, who barely made 1,000 ($2,000) a year; a diamond-studded badge of the Grenadier Guards, her favorite regiment, of which she was the Colonel; and from her parents a twin pair of Cartier ivy-leaf brooches covered with two thousand pave diamonds surrounded by two five-carat diamonds in the center. The state gifts from South Africa, worth more than $1 million at the time, were equally lavish: the King received a gold box full of diamonds to put on his Garter star, and the Queen was given an engraved twenty-two-karat gold tea service. Princess Margaret received a necklace of seventeen graduated diamonds, and Elizabeth was given a silver chest containing twenty-one graduated brilliant-cut diamonds, some weighing ten carats, interspersed with baguettes.

Laden with jewels, the royal family returned to England in May 1947. But the King still wouldn't announce his daughter's engagement. He excluded Philip's name from the Royal Ascot house party at Windsor Castle, but on July 8 Philip, who was teaching at the Royal Navy Petty Officers School at Kingsmoor, phoned the King. He asked permission to go to Buckingham Palace that evening to give Elizabeth a three-carat diamond engagement ring that had belonged to his mother.* The King consented and graciously invited his future son-in-law for dinner. Philip drove his sporty MG ninety-eight miles from Wiltshire to London. Two days later the engagement was announced by the same Palace spokesman who had been denying it for two years. The King consented and graciously invited his future son-in-law for dinner. Philip drove his sporty MG ninety-eight miles from Wiltshire to London. Two days later the engagement was announced by the same Palace spokesman who had been denying it for two years.

"We got engaged," said Elizabeth's dresser, Margaret "BoBo" MacDonald, on the day the betrothal was announced. So close was she to Elizabeth that she frequently talked of herself and her future sovereign as a single person. The Scotswoman, who had been with Elizabeth since she was born, would accompany her on her honeymoon and serve her morning coffee every day until BoBo died in 1993, forty-seven years later.

The wedding was set for November 20, 1947, but again over the King's objections. Citing the coal shortage and the country's economic collapse, he suggested a quiet ceremony at St. George's Chapel in Windsor to minimize the expense of pomp and ceremony. But Elizabeth and her mother insisted on a big wedding. The King tried to stall the inevitable by suggesting June of the next year, when, he said, the weather would be warmer. Elizabeth said she didn't care if it snowed: she was getting married in November.

The British press reported the engagement as the love match of the century. "This is no arranged marriage," said the Daily Mail. Daily Mail. "The couple is well and truly in love," said the "The couple is well and truly in love," said the Daily Telegraph. Daily Telegraph. Skeptical Americans did not try to dispute the matter. "The world, seeing this pretty girl and young navy officer together, will like to think of this as a love match rather than as any union dictated by politics," declared an editorial in Skeptical Americans did not try to dispute the matter. "The world, seeing this pretty girl and young navy officer together, will like to think of this as a love match rather than as any union dictated by politics," declared an editorial in The New York Times. The New York Times.

Arranged marriages were not foreign to Philip. Until 1923 such marriages had been the rule for royalty, not the exception. Love was seldom an option, as he knew from the marriages of his parents, his two Mountbatten uncles, and all of his cousins, including Marina, the impoverished Greek Princess who had been imported to England to straighten out the bis.e.xual Duke of Kent. Ever pragmatic, Philip, too, was marrying for a reason.

"Why do you think I'm getting married?" he asked Cobina Wright. "I'll tell you: It's because I've never really had a home. From the time I was eight, I've always been away at school or in the navy."

Almost a quarter century later, Philip admitted publicly that his marriage to Elizabeth had been arranged. "There was their excursion to South Africa, and then it was sort of fixed up when they came back," he told his biographer, Basil Boothroyd, in 1971. "That's what really happened." By then he had been married to Elizabeth for twenty-four years, provided a male heir to the throne, and become resigned to his role as Consort. Beyond that, he had learned to be discreet about the life he led with other women.

"This is not to say that he wasn't fond of Elizabeth when he married her," said his friend Larry Adler, the American harmonica player who moved to England after being blacklisted as a suspected communist* in America. He belonged to Philip's male luncheon group known as the Thursday Club. "Was he in love with Elizabeth? No, but he had a great deal of respect for her." in America. He belonged to Philip's male luncheon group known as the Thursday Club. "Was he in love with Elizabeth? No, but he had a great deal of respect for her."

So much so that when someone suggested Philip was marrying the ugly duckling and that Princess Margaret was far prettier than her sister, he flared. "You wouldn't say that if you knew them. Elizabeth is sweet and kind," he said, "just like her mother."

As soon as the engagement was announced, Uncle d.i.c.kie, writing from India, bombarded his nephew with advice about how to arrange the wedding and how the new household should be run. He offered Broadlands, his home in Hampshire, for the honeymoon, suggesting Philip and Elizabeth use Edwina's suite. It featured Salvador Dali paintings and a magnificent four-poster Tudor bed with an ivory satin headboard and "those lurid pink satin sheets." Philip accepted his uncle's hospitality, but for only a few days. He said his bride wanted to spend most of the honeymoon at Birkall, the small royal house on the twenty-four thousand acres of Balmoral in Scotland. Then he cautioned his mentor: "I am not being rude but it is apparent you like the idea of being the General Manager of this little show, and I am rather afraid that she might not take to the idea quite so docilely as I do. It is true that I know what is good for me, but don't forget that she has not had you as Uncle loco parentis, loco parentis, counsellor and friend as long as I have." counsellor and friend as long as I have."

Unperturbed, Mountbatten wrote to Winston Churchill and asked him to take Philip to lunch to impress upon him "how serious it was, marrying the heir to the throne." Churchill, who was out of office then, agreed to tutor the young man for the sake of the monarchy.

Already Philip had been shut out of the wedding plans. He was permitted to choose his cousin David Milford Haven as best man, but of the 2,500 invitations, Philip was allotted only 2. These he gave to his navy shipmate Michael Parker and to Helene Cordet's mother. Cobina Wright Sr., the mother of his first lover, appeared on the official guest list as the society columnist for the Hearst newspapers. Beyond that, Philip was not allowed to partic.i.p.ate in the wedding planning. This was not simply a marriage ceremony, but an affair of state that would focus world attention on the British monarchy. Consequently the King and Queen told him that his sisters and their German husbands, some of whom had supported Hitler's Third Reich, could not possibly be included. So they remained in Germany and listened to the service on the radio in Marienburg Castle, south of Hanover. Princess Margarita of Hohenloe-Langenbourg, Princess Theodora, the Margravine of Baden, and Princess Sophie of Hanover telephoned their brother to congratulate him. "We sent him jointly as a present a gold fountain pen with our names engraved upon it," said Princess Sophie.

The Duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Windsor, who had visited Hitler in Germany, were also excluded from the invitation list. Although the exiled Duke was Elizabeth's favorite uncle, he had embarra.s.sed the royal family earlier in the year by selling his memoirs and publishing A King's Story. A King's Story. The Queen suggested to the Foreign Office that the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess might consider scheduling a trip to America during November, which would preclude their attending the wedding. The Foreign Office delivered the suggestion, but the Duke replied that he and the d.u.c.h.ess did not want to be away at that time. The Palace insisted. Further, it instructed him that, if asked, he was to deny that he and the d.u.c.h.ess had not been invited to the royal wedding. In the end they went to America, where they pointedly did not listen to the ceremony. The Queen suggested to the Foreign Office that the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess might consider scheduling a trip to America during November, which would preclude their attending the wedding. The Foreign Office delivered the suggestion, but the Duke replied that he and the d.u.c.h.ess did not want to be away at that time. The Palace insisted. Further, it instructed him that, if asked, he was to deny that he and the d.u.c.h.ess had not been invited to the royal wedding. In the end they went to America, where they pointedly did not listen to the ceremony.

After the Queen vetted the invitation list, she addressed the issue of Philip's mother, whom she considered "pleasant but odd... definitely odd." The plump, winsome Queen with her baby blue feather boas and rippling giggles contrasted sharply with the gaunt, somber Greek Princess in her stark religious garb. The two women never had established a rapport, although they shared similar traits of courage and conviction. During the war, both demonstrated bravery: the Queen by accompanying her husband from Windsor Castle to Buckingham Palace every day to risk being bombed like her subjects, and Princess Andrew by hiding a Jewish family in her Athens home during the German occupation of Greece. Years after her death, the Princess was cited for valor by the state of Israel. But the Queen, unaware of Princess Andrew's heroism in 1947, viewed her as eccentric and overly religious.

Concerned about appearances at the royal wedding, the Queen sweetly asked Philip if he thought his mother would be wearing her nun's habit. As mother of the bride, the Queen said she herself would be wearing a dress of apricot-and-golden brocade, gracefully draped and trailing. Philip understood immediately that his mother's dour gray robe, white wimple, cord, and rosary beads would have to be closeted for the occasion. So on the wedding day Princess Andrew sat with the royal family in Westminster Abbey, wearing a hat and a simple silk dress, which the Queen later p.r.o.nounced "very pretty and most appropriate."

On the morning of his wedding, Philip expressed his apprehension about marrying a woman who was destined to become an inst.i.tution. "We had breakfast together," recalled a relative, "and he said, 'I don't know whether I'm being very brave or very foolish.' "

King George VI and his Queen had turned their own wedding into a spectacle, so they knew better than anyone the importance of producing a grand ceremony for their subjects. They understood how to rouse the people with a fanfare of silver trumpets and golden coaches. They recognized that such a ritual of imperial monarchy would distract people from the misery of their humdrum lives and unite the Commonwealth in celebration. Everyone would feel joyously invested in the royal family, which, in turn, would strengthen the monarchy's emotional hold on its subjects.

The power of such pageantry was not lost on Winston Churchill, who described the impending nuptials in 1947 as "a flash of colour on the hard road that we travel." The New York Times The New York Times noted the need for "a welcome occasion for gaiety in grim England, beset in peace with troubles almost as burdensome as those of war." The next day a little girl in Brooklyn broke her piggy bank to send the Princess a turkey as a wedding present "because she lives in England and they have nothing to eat in England." noted the need for "a welcome occasion for gaiety in grim England, beset in peace with troubles almost as burdensome as those of war." The next day a little girl in Brooklyn broke her piggy bank to send the Princess a turkey as a wedding present "because she lives in England and they have nothing to eat in England."

With only four months in which to stage a wedding extravaganza, the King and Queen concentrated on the costumes-the heralds in medieval scarlet-and-gold livery, the cavalry in shining helmets topped with plumes, the glistening swords, the sparkling medals, the crimson sashes, the gleaming breastplates. All were removed from prewar storage bins, where they had been sitting since 1939. Once again, clothes dominated the royal family's discussions as ration coupons were collected from cabinet members to insure that Princess Elizabeth had a proper trousseau and a stunning wedding gown. She told her couturier, Norman Hartnell, that she wanted to walk down the aisle in something unique and magnificent. She swore him to secrecy and threatened to go to another couturier if descriptions of her bridal gown were leaked to the public before the wedding. The royal designer insisted his workers sign secrecy oaths and whitewash the workroom windows, which were curtained with thick white muslin so no one could look in. Hartnell, who said he was inspired by Botticelli's "Primavera," envisioned Elizabeth in acres of ivory satin and tulle embroidered with ten thousand seed pearls and small crystals, which required two months of work by ten embroiderers and twenty-five needlewomen.

During the wedding, two sewing women were to be stationed in the Abbey in case the dress needed st.i.tching. The bride's tulle veil was fifteen yards long and contained one hundred miles of thread. So Elizabeth was given an additional clothing allotment of one hundred coupons, plus twenty-three extra coupons for each of her eight bridesmaids. She also received from various well-wishers three hundred eighty-six pairs of nylon stockings-a most precious commodity for young women living through England's postwar reconstruction.

Expense was not considered when Elizabeth selected her trousseau. For her wedding night she chose a nightgown and robe set from Joske's department store in San Antonio, Texas, that cost $300, twice as much as most Americans earned in a month. The pale ivory Georgette gown had forty yards of silk with satin roses embroidered across the bodice; the brocade robe was patterned with tiny lords and ladies bowing in minuet, all hand st.i.tched. The head of the store's gift-wrap department scrubbed up like a surgeon before she touched the precious parcel.

At the wedding, the Archbishop of Canterbury declared that the ceremony for Princess Elizabeth was "exactly the same as it would be for any cottager who might be married this afternoon in some small country church in a remote village in the Dales: the same prayers are offered; the same blessings are given." The differences: the twelve wedding cakes at the royal reception, including one nine feet high that Philip cut with his sword, each slice containing a week's sugar rations for the average family; 2,666 wedding presents, including a Thoroughbred horse, a mink coat, a twenty-two-karat gold coffee service, a television set, a fifty-four-carat pink diamond said to be the only one of its kind in the world, and a plantation and hunting lodge in Kenya.

Led by a procession of eighteen horse-drawn carriages, the royal guests included six kings, six queens, seven princesses, one princess regent, one prince regent, one Indian rajah, one crown prince, one crown princess, seven counts, six countesses, eleven viscounts, fourteen dukes, and eleven d.u.c.h.esses, who accounted for most of the sixty-seven diamond tiaras worn.

"The jewelry at that wedding was staggering," recalled the Danish Amba.s.sador's daughter, who attended with her father. "I was breathless and gaping at the stupendous display. It was prewar dimension. Everyone had gone to the bank to get their jewels out of the vault. Diamond tiaras looked like beanies, and the former d.u.c.h.ess of Rutland had her entire head wrapped in diamonds. She said it was her grandmother's belt. A woman wearing a turban made of pearls the size of cherries pa.s.sed another lady weighted down with bunches of cabochon emeralds cascading down her shoulders like grapes on a vine. The Indians wore breastplates of rubies and diamonds and wrapped their arms from wrist to shoulder in sapphires."

Overnight, the impecunious bridegroom, who was earning eight guineas a week as a navy lieutenant, became a n.o.bleman with rank, t.i.tle, and position, ent.i.tling him to layers of shining gold epaulets. He acquired a valet, a social secretary, and an equerry, plus a royal residence at Clarence House with 50,000 (about $100,000) for refurbishments, and a castle (Sunninghill Park) for country weekends. Before the couple could move into the castle, the Crown property on the edge of Windsor Great Park went up in flames-the first of many unexplained fires to haunt the House of Windsor.

"Oh, Crawfie, how could could it have happened?" Elizabeth wrote to her former governess. "Do you really think someone did it on purpose? I can't believe it. People are always so kind to us...." it have happened?" Elizabeth wrote to her former governess. "Do you really think someone did it on purpose? I can't believe it. People are always so kind to us...."

The morning before the wedding, Philip knelt before the King, who unsheathed his sword and, tapping each shoulder, knighted his future son-in-law with the Order of the Garter. Within the British honors system, the cornflower blue sash and eight-pointed star of the Garter is recognized as the highest accolade* a monarch can bestow. In a letter to his mother, the King said he had given the honor to Elizabeth eight days earlier so that she would have precedence over her husband. a monarch can bestow. In a letter to his mother, the King said he had given the honor to Elizabeth eight days earlier so that she would have precedence over her husband.

Previously Philip had been reduced to the status of a commoner when he was forced to renounce his Greek name, t.i.tle, nationality, and religion. Now he was rewarded with three exalted British t.i.tles-Baron Greenwich, Earl of Merioneth, and Duke of Edinburgh. The t.i.tle of Prince of the Realm was withheld and would not be conferred until 1957. But before his wedding day Philip was granted the distinction of being addressed as His Royal Highness. This rankled some of the n.o.bility, who still point out that Britain's dukes not born of royal blood are to be addressed as His Grace, not as His Royal Highness. But the King was determined to enn.o.ble his twenty-six-year-old son-in-law so that his daughter would have the status of a peer's wife. The King also wanted to make sure that his grandchildren would be born of n.o.ble blood. "It is a great deal to give a man all at once," he said, "but I know Philip understands his new responsibilities."

On the day of the wedding, the bridegroom, suffering from a cold, swore off cigarettes at the request of the bride and promised never to smoke again. He arrived at the church early with his best man, who later wrote that both of them were so hung over from the previous night's bachelor party that they had had to steady their nerves with a gin and tonic.

The jokes had been rough and the drinking serious that evening, particularly after Vasco Lazzolo, a portrait painter, who was convinced that Philip was marrying Princess Elizabeth to advance himself, rose unsteadily from his chair to propose a toast. He lifted his brandy gla.s.s and glared at the guest of honor. "For what you are doing, I think you are an absolute s.h.i.t," he said. He threw his gla.s.s into the fireplace and lurched from the room.

"That was quite a party," recalled Larry Adler many years later, "and Philip certainly didn't enjoy it as much as the rest of us. He was just too scared. I remember him looking white as a ghost and shaky the whole evening. He was d.a.m.ned frightened. The King had laid down the law to him about a lot of things, from fast cars to other women.

"Philip had had a minor automobile accident shortly after the engagement announcement which made the papers. He was driving fast, skidded, hit a hedge, and banged himself up a bit. This caused excessive press comment at the time and made him look like a reckless, pub-crawling playboy. Naturally, the King was annoyed. Then there was the Helene Cordet affair, which surfaced right before the wedding, when she was described in the French press as the 'mystery blond divorcee' whom Philip had visited in Paris the year before. Since then, Helene is always the first name mentioned as one of Philip's mistresses and the mother of his illegitimate children. Of course, he and Helene claim that they're merely childhood friends who grew up together in Paris. He gave her away when she married the first time in 1938, and he's G.o.dfather to both her children, so who knows?"

Adler smiles and shrugs when talking about his old friend's relationship with Helene Cordet, who worked in a Paris dress shop before moving to London to open a nightclub and become a cabaret singer. Her parents, staunch Greek royalists, had helped support Philip's parents during their exile in France when Philip was growing up. "Mercifully, he spared us the personal details of his relationship with Helene," said Adler in 1992. "But we made certain a.s.sumptions at the time, and whether we were right or wrong, we understood why the King was agitated about his daughter falling in love with a bounder like our old pal. As I told Philip then, be glad your zipper can't talk."

Despite his friends' insinuations, Philip stayed married to Elizabeth, but he conducted discreet affairs with many other women, most of whom were aristocrats or actresses. One mistress reportedly bore his child as a single woman and never divulged the name of the child's father. Her refusal to name the man whipped up more rumors. By 1989 the stories of Philip's alleged illegitimate children forced Helene Cordet's son, Max, to make a public statement.

"I have heard these rumors all my life, but they are ridiculous," he said. "My father-my real father-[Frenchman Marcel Boisot] lives in Paris and it is silly to say otherwise. This all goes back to my mother's childhood with Philip. Nothing more to it than that."

His mother admitted that Philip paid for her son's tuition at Gordonstoun, but she said it was because she was dest.i.tute, not because Philip was her son's father. By then, though, the rumors, repeated for so many years, carried their own currency.

"I don't care what Max Boisot says now," said his cla.s.smate James Bellini in 1994. "I went to Cambridge with him and we all thought then that he was one of Philip's b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. We talked about it all the time. Before Cambridge, Max attended Gordonstoun, the same school in Scotland that Philip attended and to which he sent his sons, Charles, Andrew, and Edward. And don't forget, Philip was also G.o.dfather to Max, which traditionally is the way royalty stands up for its illegitimate children. This is their way of giving their b.a.s.t.a.r.d offspring a tenuous tie to royal circles. Take a close look at the royal G.o.dparents of the aristocracy and you'll see the b.a.s.t.a.r.d sons and daughters of the monarchy."

While Philip had been intimate with many women before his marriage, his relationship with Helene Cordet was never the pa.s.sionate love affair that was alleged. She publicly denied having a romance with Philip, but her coy denials seemed calculated toward publicity to launch her career as a London cabaret singer. She later cashed in on her relationship with Philip by writing a book ent.i.tled Born Bewildered. Born Bewildered. She intimated that she had not been invited to the royal wedding because she was the "mystery blonde" he had been romancing in Paris. Helene was not invited because she was divorced, and at that time, divorced persons were not allowed in royal circles. She intimated that she had not been invited to the royal wedding because she was the "mystery blonde" he had been romancing in Paris. Helene was not invited because she was divorced, and at that time, divorced persons were not allowed in royal circles.

Years later, Helene's granddaughter told her to stick to the story of the affair with the Queen's husband. "Don't keep denying that you and Philip had more than a friendship going," said her granddaughter. "I like people thinking I'm royal and Philip is my grandfather."

Elizabeth, a virgin when she married, was the pampered, protected daughter of Puritan parents, whereas Philip, the son of separated parents, was reared by relatives who had been exposed to an atmosphere of decadence and amorality. Elizabeth had grown up with the comforting scent of Palace beeswax and fresh roses, while Philip was accustomed to the itinerant smell of mothb.a.l.l.s from borrowed clothes in storage bins and battered suitcases hastily packed and unpacked. The twenty-six-year-old bridegroom, who had traveled through Europe, Australia, and the Middle East, was marrying a twenty-one-year-old woman who had never been outside Great Britain until the royal family tour of South Africa. Poorly educated, she had never attended school and received hourly tutorials only in British history and heraldry. She had studied Walter Bagehot's writings on the monarchy and had mastered the hereditary peerage with all its complex t.i.tles of antiquities. She spoke excellent French* but barely understood mathematics and science and knew little about the natural world beyond dogs and horses. She disliked poetry, except for the rhymes of Rudyard Kipling and Alfred, Lord Tennyson. The only poem she ever memorized was the childish verses of "They're Changing Guard at Buckingham Palace" by A. A. Milne. but barely understood mathematics and science and knew little about the natural world beyond dogs and horses. She disliked poetry, except for the rhymes of Rudyard Kipling and Alfred, Lord Tennyson. The only poem she ever memorized was the childish verses of "They're Changing Guard at Buckingham Palace" by A. A. Milne.

"I was never able to imbue her with enthusiasm for modern verse," said her governess, Marion Crawford. " 'Oh, do stop!' she would say while I was reading from the works of some modern poet. 'I don't understand a word of it. What is is the man trying to say?' " the man trying to say?' "

Outside the Palace, Elizabeth felt self-conscious about the gaps in her education. She once asked if Dante was a horse, because she had never heard of the medieval poet.

"No, no, he isn't a horse," was the reply.

"Is he a jockey, then?" she asked.

She blushed when told that Dante Alighieri was the Italian cla.s.sicist who wrote The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, a masterpiece of world literature. Horses were what she knew best. a masterpiece of world literature. Horses were what she knew best.

Elizabeth's husband-to-be was neither a prodigy nor a scholar, but he at least had acc.u.mulated twelve years of formal schooling, plus several years of naval training, and he never experienced her hesitation in talking to people. With confidence bordering on arrogance, he could walk into a room without introduction, breezily announce himself, and approach the prettiest girl to say, "Well, this is a much more attractive audience than the one I've just left." Philip chatted with anyone about anything, while Elizabeth worried constantly about what to say. "If only I could do it as well as my mother does it," she said.

Receiving lines made her uncomfortable as she tried to manufacture small talk. Faced with a moment of silence, she once said, "Well... I can't think of anything more to say about that."

Confiding in a friend, she said, "Believe it or not, I lie in my bath before dinner, and think, Oh, who am I going to sit by and what are they going to talk about? I'm absolutely terrified of sitting next to people in case they talk about things I have never heard of."

A few years later Philip, too, would acknowledge his ignorance. "I regret to say that all my degrees are honorary ones," he told students at the University of Delhi in India. Later he addressed the subject with students at the University of Wales. "My generation, although reasonably well schooled, is probably the worst educated of this age. The war cut short any chance there was of acquiring a higher education. I'm part of this lost generation trying to make up for what it missed between 1939 and 1945."

When he and Elizabeth received honorary doctor of law degrees from London University, she, too, sounded humble. "There is one piece of fortune which we have never known," she said. "We have never known a university from within...."

The King, a simple, uneducated man, prized his daughter's lack of sophistication and wrote in his diary how much he would miss the charades, games, and parlor singsongs they had shared at Windsor Castle. At her wedding reception, he rose from his chair, raised his gla.s.s, and, pointedly ignoring the bridegroom, saluted his beloved daughter. "To the bride," the King said with tears in his eyes. A few days later he sent her a touching letter: ... I was so proud of you & thrilled at having you so close to me on our long walk in Westminster Abbey, but when I handed your hand to the Archbishop I felt that I had lost something very precious. You were so calm and composed during the Service & said your words with such conviction, that I knew it was all right. ... I was so proud of you & thrilled at having you so close to me on our long walk in Westminster Abbey, but when I handed your hand to the Archbishop I felt that I had lost something very precious. You were so calm and composed during the Service & said your words with such conviction, that I knew it was all right. I am so glad you wrote & told Mummy that you think the long wait before your engagement & the long time before the wedding was for the best. I was rather afraid that you had thought I was being hard hearted about it. I was so anxious for you to come to South Africa as you knew. I am so glad you wrote & told Mummy that you think the long wait before your engagement & the long time before the wedding was for the best. I was rather afraid that you had thought I was being hard hearted about it. I was so anxious for you to come to South Africa as you knew. Our family, us four, the "Royal Family," must remain together with additions of course at suitable moments!! I have watched you grow up all these years with pride under the skilful direction of Mummy, who as you know is the most marvellous person in the world in my eyes, & I can, I know, always count on you, & now Philip, to help us in our work.... Our family, us four, the "Royal Family," must remain together with additions of course at suitable moments!! I have watched you grow up all these years with pride under the skilful direction of Mummy, who as you know is the most marvellous person in the world in my eyes, & I can, I know, always count on you, & now Philip, to help us in our work.... Your leaving us has left a great blank in our lives but do remember that your old home is still yours & do come back to it as much as possible. I can see that you are sublimely happy with Philip which is right but don't forget us is the wish of Your leaving us has left a great blank in our lives but do remember that your old home is still yours & do come back to it as much as possible. I can see that you are sublimely happy with Philip which is right but don't forget us is the wish of Your ever loving & devoted Your ever loving & devotedPapa

SIX.

A few months after their wedding Prince Philip complained that his young wife wanted s.e.x constantly. He said he was astonished to find her insatiable. "I can't get her out of my bed," he said. "She's always there. She's driving me mad." few months after their wedding Prince Philip complained that his young wife wanted s.e.x constantly. He said he was astonished to find her insatiable. "I can't get her out of my bed," he said. "She's always there. She's driving me mad."

Philip made these complaints during his 1948 visit to the South of France while his wife remained in England. He was traveling with his cousin David, the Marquess of Milford Haven, who was his best man and closest friend. They were staying in the Monaco apartment of an English friend, who entertained them and other visiting British n.o.bility. Philip's grousing shocked everyone, including his cousin, who criticized him in front of other guests for being indiscreet.

"Real swordsmen don't discuss their fencing partners," said Milford Haven.

"Prince Philip complained that he could not keep Princess Elizabeth out of his bed, that she was at him s.e.xually all the time," recalled the d.u.c.h.ess of Leeds, who was also vacationing in Monaco.

The Duke of Leeds reported Philip's caddish behavior to his brother-in-law, Oliver Lyttleton, a leading Tory Member of Parliament, and strongly recommended an official sanction.

"We all thought that Philip was singularly unpleasant to discuss his wife in such an open manner," said the Duke of Leeds. "He was a disgusting man."

"My in-laws were stunned by Philip's total lack of discretion," said Nigel Dempster, the Daily Mail Daily Mail gossip columnist, who married the daughter of the Duke of Leeds. "It wasn't that Philip was lying, but that he was telling the truth too bluntly. My aristocratic in-laws couldn't deal with the image of the randy little s.e.x-crazed Princess who would one day be their Queen." gossip columnist, who married the daughter of the Duke of Leeds. "It wasn't that Philip was lying, but that he was telling the truth too bluntly. My aristocratic in-laws couldn't deal with the image of the randy little s.e.x-crazed Princess who would one day be their Queen."

Philip was partly forgiven that summer when the Palace announced that Princess Elizabeth was canceling her schedule for six months. The official bulletin of June 4, 1948, read, "Her Royal Highness the Princess Elizabeth, d.u.c.h.ess of Edinburgh, will undertake no public engagements after the end of June." The message indicated that the Princess was pregnant.

"Royal decorum prohibited using the actual word," said biographer Anthony Holden. "You had to read between the lines to understand that she was pregnant. In those days, physicians referred to pregnancy as 'confinement,' and the due date of birth was the EDC, or estimated date of confinement. After the birth, she started breast-feeding, but that news wasn't reported either because the word 'breast' was taboo in relation to royalty. This antediluvian mentality was prevailing thirty years later when I wrote a biography of the royal baby Prince Charles and mentioned that his mother had breast-fed him. I submitted my ma.n.u.script to the Palace for corrections, and John Dauth, press secretary to the Prince, rang me up in near hysteria.

" 'The sentence about breast-feeding must be deleted. Absolutely and at once.'

" 'But why?' I asked.' "

" 'One never mentions the royal b.r.e.a.s.t.s.' "

" 'Perhaps I could paraphrase and say, "The Princess fed the baby herself"?'

" 'That still implies the royal b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and the royal b.r.e.a.s.t.s must never be exposed.' "

"In the end," said Holden, chuckling over the prudish restraints of royal protocol, "I deleted the sentence."

When the heir became apparent, Prince Philip looked like a hero. Not only had he ensured the line of succession and the continuation of the monarchy, but he had also produced a boy. The future King, Charles Philip Arthur George, was born by cesarean section at Buckingham Palace six days before his parents' first wedding anniversary at 9:14 P.M. P.M. on November 14, 1948. He was taken by forceps and weighed seven pounds six ounces. on November 14, 1948. He was taken by forceps and weighed seven pounds six ounces.

His mother had insisted he be delivered in her suite at Buckingham Palace and not in a makeshift hospital wing. "I want my baby to be born in my own room, amongst the things I know," she said.

When she was a child, Elizabeth had told her governess, "I shall have lots of cows, horses, and children." When the twenty-two-year-old Princess became pregnant, Crawfie could not quite believe that she was going to have a baby.

"Are you frightened at all, Lilibet?" she asked. "What do you feel about it?"

Elizabeth said she was looking forward to the experience. "After all, it is what we're made for."

One morning her governess found her depressed after reading a newspaper account about the divorce of an acquaintance of hers who had small children.

"Why do people do it, Crawfie?" Elizabeth asked her governess. "How can they break up a home when there are children to consider?"

Crawfie tried to explain that some personalities were incompatible and some homes unhappy, but the Princess, who had been raised in a royal palace by loving parents and servants, did not seem to understand.