The Princess & the Pianist

She was a princess of the Swedish blood royal, he was a poor but honest piano player. They met in a London nightclub where he was a paid performer. He proposed, and she accepted. But the princess' mother forbade the marriage, and the lovers sadly parted.

The story was old as Grimm and as new as television. It all began when 22-year-old Princess Margaretha, granddaughter of Sweden's King Gustaf VI Adolf, went to London last fall to brush up her English. The princess did not stay with her distant relatives at Buckingham Palace, but boarded at $14 a week with the family of an old friend in Hampstead. She took an unpaid training job as a therapist in a London hospital, traveled to and from work on the underground. Mayfair, which had seen its share of foreign princesses, liked but was not dazzled by shy, willowy, fresh-faced Margaretha. "She was a nice person--very agreeable always, you know--but not tremendously smart in her clothes or anything like that," said one acquaintance.

Innocent Affair. One day last fall Margaretha and some friends dropped in at the Casanova Club, one of the upholstered haunts of the Princess Margaret set. There, playing a lively jazz piano, was 25-year-old Robin Douglas-Home. Tall, blond and thinly handsome, Robin was no ordinary pianist. He was nephew of the Earl of Home, who is currently the Tory leader in the House of Lords. Robin is a close friend of that young cutup, the Duke of Kent, and a frequent escort of his sister Princess Alexandra. After five years as an officer in the Seaforth Highlanders, Robin was training to be an advertising copywriter by day (at $40 a week), working as a pianist at night (at $84 a week). Soon Robin was taking Margaretha to dinner; once, dressed as Little Jack Horner, he took Margaretha (dressed as Little Red Riding Hood) to a ball sponsored by Princess Margaret. When Robin moved over to the cocktail bar at the posh Berkeley Hotel, Margaretha came and listened until he finished his 7-to-9-o'clock stint. Early this year he wrote her mother Princess Sibylla, asking for Margaretha's hand. Margaretha abruptly returned to her palace in Sweden.

Last week the London press got wind of the story of the princess and the piano player and spread it all over their front pages. In Stockholm, Baron Carl-Reinhold von Essen, Master of the Royal Household, made a formal statement: "It was a little innocent affair in London, as so often happens between young people, and the whole matter was declared ended with the Princess Sibylla's reply to the Englishman's letter of proposal. This reply was very polite but definite. The proposal was, from the Swedish viewpoint, to be considered impossible."

Two Years. This snooty reply satisfied no one in either country. The people plainly were on the side of love. In Britain, the thwarted romance of Princess Margaret and Group Captain Peter Townsend was echoed in the caption of the most-talked-about cartoon of the week: "Oh, don't say we're going to have to go through it all over again in Swedish!" The suggestion that Douglas-Home was not socially acceptable bridled many. Sneered the Daily Express: "The Berna-dottes are of good French middle-class origin, and have been royal since 1810.* The Homes have been noble since 1473." Even the Swedish Morgon-Tidningen agreed: "Four hundred and fifty years ago an Earl of Home would not even have looked at a Bernadotte."

Baron von Essen quickly shifted ground. It was only, it seemed, a question of money. Said he: "We cannot imagine her living in a tiny flat in London and waiting at home every night while her husband goes out to play a piano for a living. Think of your own Princess Margaret. You would not like that; nor would we. It might be different if Mr. Douglas-Home were a Schubert or a Beethoven." Princess Margaretha herself, he explained, has no major income of her own. He concluded: "If and when these practical obstacles are removed, the Swedish royal house has no objection to a union--provided the Princess still is interested." Old King Gustaf himself issued a statement saying, "The King has not imposed any ban on the marriage in question."

In London, young Robin firmly refused a handsome offer from a Stockholm restaurant for his piano-playing services, another at $1,000 a week from a Manhattan nightclub, dreamily played Our Love Is Here to Stay for the Berkeley's patrons, called Sweden three times long-distance, and confided to friends that Margaretha had said she would marry him if after two years they were still in love.

* Jean Baptiste Bernadotte, a marshal in Napoleon's army, married Desiree Clary, the Marseille girl who was Napoleon's first love. When Sweden found itself without an heir to the throne in 1810, the Riksdag chose Bernadotte, partly to appease Napoleon, partly because Bernadotte had made a good impression as an adversary by his kindness to Swedish prisoners.

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