Serial Story

As the royal tender approached Mersey Lock near Manchester one day last week, Princess Elizabeth and the Duke of Edinburgh watched from the tender's bridge. Suddenly an eddy caught the craft and pushed it toward the concrete wall of the lock. Passengers and reporters stared at the wall, bracing themselves for the bump. But one reporter, a mustached man who looked more like a diplomat, kept his eyes fixed on the royal couple.

Next day, under such screaming Page One headlines as PRINCESS IN MERSEY

CRASH, the British press carried Reporter Louis Wulff's second-by-second account of what other reporters had missed: "The Princess saw that the tender would bump, and clutched instinctively at the brass rail . . . The Princess and Prince Philip smiled when the inevitable bump came, and then Prince Philip . . . exchanged a sympathetic word with the master . . ." It was only a little bump, but to Britons who never tire of reading about their royal family, it was big news.

Soft Shoes. Most of this big news is written by Louis Wulff, court correspondent for Press Association, the top British domestic news agency. At 44, Wulff has been writing Britain's favorite serial story --the lives & loves of its kings & queens-- for 20 years. Though Wulff is not permitted to interview the King and his family, his accurate, inside stories of the royal doings fill columns in the British press. Press Association's Wulff and Louis Nichols of Exchange Telegraph, the other major domestic news service, are the only two permitted to cover the palace beat.

At 10:30 every morning they soft-shoe along the thickly carpeted corridor to the Buckingham Palace press office. There Commander Richard Colville, the royal family's press secretary, hands them the day's terse official announcements. For anything except routine news, Colville is usually of little help. Says he: "We are not publicity agents for the royal family. We are here to tell the press how far they cannot go." Thus Wulff has to tap his own pipelines for color, and often comes up with a scoop or a more readable story than Nichols, a comparative newcomer.

When the royal family thinks of the press, it usually thinks of Wulff. By royal request, he handled the press arrange ments for the wedding of Patricia Mountbatten, Lord Louis' daughter. The King has awarded him the M.V.O. Fourth Class (Member of Royal Victorian Order) and "said some very nice things" about Wulff's work, which sometimes consists of not telling the news. Example: he withheld a story on the King's illness until it was officially released.

Nonsense. Son of two circus troup ers, Belgian-born, English-educated Louis Wulff has worked for Press Association ever since he was 16. He started as a $5-a-week messenger boy, now does well enough to have a flat in London and a country home. Wulff's only serious fluff was the announcement of the royal engagement in 1947. When his office woke him up at 2 a.m. to tell him that the Daily Mail was predicting a betrothal that day, Wulff replied: "Nonsense." Press Association put out the denial over his by line -- just as the palace announced the engagement.

Reporter Wulff's strong affection for the royal family has sometimes sweetened his copy and his Silver Wedding, latest of the four bestsellers (150,000 copies each) he has written about the royal family.

Once another reporter told Wulff: "I wouldn't have your job for the world -- too many strings attached." Beamed Wulff: "Ah, but golden strings, golden strings."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.