Ostensibly, the reason for Rainier’s visit was to go with Donat to Johns Hopkins for a checkup at the university hospital. There was also talk of visiting friends on the east coast and some fishing in Florida.
While Father Tucker was let in on the secret before they sailed, the only other people wise to Rainier’s marriage plans—besides Grace who, by this time, had good reason to believe from their correspondence that Rainier’s intentions were serious—were his closest advisers at home.
After all, the possible marriage of the Prince of Monaco was an affair of state.
According to the Franco-Monegasque treaty of 1918, the engagement announcement of anyone in line for the Monegasque throne must be preceded by a formal request for permission from the French government. Of course, French government consent is nothing more than a rubber stamp. But in 1920, when Princess Charlotte announced her engagement to Count Pierre de Polignac without first seeking such permission—even though her grandfather was sovereign prince, her father was hereditary prince, and she was only number three in the line—a strong letter was promptly sent from the French Foreign Minister to the Minister of State that rules of protocol had to be observed.
And Rainier would, of course, observe them now.
Some time in early November, he discussed his plans with the Minister of State who then spoke to the French Consul General in Monaco.
On November 30, 1955, eight days before Rainier sailed from Le Havre, the French Consul General wrote to the Minister of State, “On the eve of SAS Prince Rainier’s departure for the United States where he intends to propose marriage to une Americaine”—the fiancée to be is not named—“my government suggests that this is perhaps a good opportunity to bring your attention to the 1920 precedent.”
The Minister of State duly passed that letter on to the Prince.
Grace’s name does not appear on any official correspondence at this point because Rainier had not yet revealed it, even to his Minister of State.
He’d decided that no one should know her identity for a couple of reasons. It would be extremely embarrassing to both Grace and himself if word leaked out before he had the opportunity to propose. And, if she accepted, protocol again dictated that a formal announcement would have to be made in Monaco before, or at least at the very same time, that it was made in the US.
So, right up to the point where he arrived at her front door on Christmas Day, it was only Grace and Father Tucker who knew precisely what Rainier had in mind.
As the week after Christmas wore on, as Grace and Rainier were seen together in Philadelphia and on December 27 in New York, the press began adding one and one and coming up with two.
The official version of the story is that he proposed to her on New Year’s Eve.
The truth is that he did it a few days after Christmas.
He asked her quite simply, “Will you marry me?”
And she answered quite simply, “Yes.”
But they couldn’t tell anybody because this was not just an ordinary marriage, this was a Prince, and head of state, asking her to become his Princess.
Before the world could be told there were all sorts of hurdles to clear.
First, there was her father. A man known for usually speaking his mind, Jack Kelly pulled Rainier aside and said he hoped the Prince’s intentions were serious.
Rainier answered, “I want to marry her,” without explaining that Grace had already said yes.
Kelly gave Rainier his permission right away, but then cautioned him, “I hope you won’t run around the way some princes do because if you do you’ll lose a mighty fine girl. Don’t forget, she’s got Irish blood in her veins and she knows what she wants.”
Next came Ma Kelly, who intended that Grace and Rainier should be married in Philadelphia. “That’s how it is in America. The girl’s parents arrange the wedding and Grace always promised me she wanted that.”
Rainier had to explain that this would not be just an ordinary wedding, that Grace would become the Princess of Monaco and, in that regard, she now had responsibilities to the Monegasques.
It took some time but Ma Kelly eventually gave in.
Then there were the negotiations for the marriage contract. A multi-paged legal document was drawn up over the next few weeks by lawyers in Monaco acting for the Prince and attorneys in New York acting for Grace. Conforming to European custom, it specifically outlined the rules that would govern the material side of their marriage.
In France and in Monaco, contractual agreements to establish rights to property, as defined by the Napoleonic Codes, are a traditional part of any marriage. There are three basic types: communal property, a specific division of property, and a total separation of property. Most people marry under the first clause. In fact, in France, unless you specifically request otherwise, you automatically get a communal property agreement. The second arrangement is one wherein all the material things that each party brings to the marriage remain their own, but everything acquired after the marriage is shared. The third is simply an agreement that everything brought to the marriage plus everything acquired during the marriage will belong to one partner or the other.
It was this third clause, known in French as separation des biens, under which Grace and Rainier were wed.
“It was the right thing for both of us,” Rainier explained. “But it was absolutely a normal standard marriage contract and there was nothing out of the ordinary about it.”
If not out of the ordinary for a certain class of European—most of France’s wealthiest people are married under this clause—it must have seemed quite odd to the Kellys of Philadelphia, especially because the contract stipulated that Grace would have certain responsibilities towards household costs.
In other words, she would have to pay some of their bills.
But again, that’s a normal practice under such a contract.
Finally, there was the matter of a dowry.
According to the contract, it would be paid by the Kellys to the Prince for his taking Grace as his wife. Dowries are also the norm among older European families, not just French or Monegasque, although they were hardly an everyday occurrence in East Falls in 1956.
Some years ago a book intending to do nothing more than sensationalize Grace and Rainier’s life together made the claim that Rainier forced an otherwise reluctant Jack Kelly to pay $2 million for the right to see Grace married to the Prince of Monaco. That is not true. Having seen the marriage contract, which is in Prince Rainier’s private files, I can state categorically that, while certain financial arrangements were made, a $2 million dowry was not involved.
For the sake of accuracy, the author of that particular book acknowledged assistance from various people who now say they’ve never spoken to him or that when he contacted them they refused to cooperate. Some of the most startling quotes in that book are attributed to dead people. And, if that isn’t enough to cast serious doubt on the accuracy of the author’s reporting, there are also gross errors of fact. Among them, the statement that the only reason Dr. Donat went to the States with Rainier was to personally administer a fertility test to Grace before a marriage could be planned. After all, the argument went, if she could not bear children he could not marry her.
Rainier wrote off this utter nonsense as total fiction. “It was very much the fad in the mid-1950s for Europeans to have a thorough medical check-up in the United States. Lots of people I knew were going to places like the Mayo Clinic. My friend Robert Donat, who was a surgeon in Nice and had taken out my appendix, suggested that as long as I was going to the States anyway, why didn’t I take a few days and get a check-up. He wanted me to go to Johns Hopkins. I decided, why not, as I’d never had a general health check-up before. So I went with him to Baltimore. I spent three very boring days sitting in the hospital there getting poked and prodded.”
Just as quickly, he dismissed any discussion of Grace’s fertility.
To begin with, he rightly pointed out, there is no such thing
as a simple fertility test for women.
According to a noted gynecologist contacted in London through the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists, you never know for sure if the equipment works until you give it a try. A doctor can check to see that a woman ovulates, and can take X-rays to see that her Fallopian tubes are clear, and that there are no obstructions to fertilization. But that’s about it. So any scene that describes Grace with her feet in the stirrups while two doctors poke and probe to make certain that she can bear the heir to Rainier’s throne is not only extremely tacky, but pure invention.
All the more so because no physical examination of any kind was required of her.
Many years later, in the case of Princess Diana, it’s known that a physical was demanded by the British crown before she could marry the heir to the throne. A gynecologist certainly checked to see that everything was in order. Equally important, doctors also traced her family medical history to make sure that there were no genetic diseases, such as epilepsy or hemophilia, which might be passed on.
Yet, where Grace was concerned, Rainier was frank. “She didn’t go through any special medical tests whatsoever. As far as I know she didn’t even have a simple check-up before we got married. And there definitely was no fertility test.”
What’s more, Rainier said, the excuse that she needed to be capable of bearing children or the wedding was off, is just as ludicrous. “Had she not been able to bear children there was another option available to us. We could have adopted a child. The law is quite clear. According to the treaty with France, should there be no natural heir to the throne, the ruling sovereign may adopt a child to perpetuate the reign.”
On Tuesday night, January 3, 1956, Grace and Rainier went to the Stork Club in New York with some friends.
Jack O’Brian, the theatre critic for the Journal-American newspaper, spotted them across the room and sent a note to their table with the waiter. It read, “Dear Grace, I understand you’re planning to announce your engagement on Thursday or Friday. Answer here please.” At the bottom he drew two boxes, one marked for each day.
After showing it to Rainier, Grace went to O’Brian’s table. She told him, “I can’t answer your question tonight.”
He asked, “When can you answer it?”
After a short pause she said, “Friday.”
The official announcement was made on Thursday, January 5, first in Monaco and then a few minutes later at a luncheon Jack Kelly hosted for Philadelphia dignitaries at a local country club.
On Friday morning, as she’d hinted to O’Brian, it was front-page news.
“I’ve been in love before,” Grace told the press, “but never in love like this.”
Later she would confess, “By getting married I was stepping straight into a new, unknown world and that was, I have to say, a little frightening. But I was ready for making a change in my life. And so was the Prince. I think we were lucky enough to meet at the right moment. I’ve always thought that a man who marries a famous woman, a woman more famous than him, can lose his own identity. I didn’t want a future Mr. Kelly, if you see what I mean. I didn’t want to take a husband. I wanted to become someone’s wife.”
The magic of their engagement captured the public’s imagination to such an extent that even today theirs is still considered one of the greatest love stories of the 20th century.
“We were both old enough to know what we wanted,” Rainier said. “And once we saw each other again in Philadelphia I think we both realized that what we wanted to do was make our lives together. Neither of us were children. We both understood what marriage meant. Both of us had gone through difficult times but both of us had learned from those difficult times that what we were each looking for was marriage. We discussed it and we thought about it and we decided to go ahead with it. We fell in love. A lot of people couldn’t believe that. A lot of people never thought it would last. I guess we fooled them.”
GqH
They also fooled the supposed “Curse of the Grimaldis.”
Around the end of the 13th century, Prince Rainier I gained the reputation among the Grimaldi clan as a great sailor and lover. He was awarded the title, Admiral General of France for his naval exploits. But in his amorous conquests he fared less well. After one of his battles he’s said to have kidnapped a beautiful Flemish woman whom he took as his lover and then betrayed. Shortly thereafter she is said to have turned herself into a witch. To repay her unhappiness, she cursed him and all those who followed with the prophesy, “Never will a Grimaldi find true happiness in marriage.”
It’s possible that Charles III wasn’t happy in his marriage. Or that Albert I wasn’t happy in either of his. Perhaps Louis II and Charlotte were equally unhappy in wedlock.
But when the curse was mentioned to Rainier, he grinned broadly and said, emphatically and without any hesitation, “Yes, we beat the curse too.”
GqH
The morning after their engagement was announced, Rainier got up early and came down for breakfast, only to find Jack Kelly already there.
His future father-in-law jumped up to give Rainier a hearty slap on the back. “Sleep well, sonny?”
Rainier understood what Kelly was telling him. He smiled, “Very well, Dad.”
And their friendship was secured.
Chapter 6
Making Plans
Rainier returned to a joyous Monaco to prepare for the wedding while Grace headed west to Hollywood to make her final motion picture, the Cole Porter musical version of The Philadelphia Story, called High Society.
But within a few months, Rainier returned to the States, renting a small villa in Hollywood so that he could be with her.
The diamond engagement ring she wears in the film is the “friendship” ring Rainier gave her when he asked her to be his Princess.
Over the next few months the press never let up. They followed him wherever he went, peeked over his shoulder as he planned every stage of their wedding, and followed her wherever she went, as she bought what must have been the most written-about trousseau of the century.
She started at Neiman Marcus in Dallas, the Texas oil millionaires’ favorite store. They made suits for her, several gowns, an assortment of street clothes, an entire wardrobe of sports clothes, and even a yachting outfit, although she ordered it without the traditional pair of sailor’s shorts. The bridesmaids’ dresses, in yellow silk organdie over taffeta, were also made at Neiman Marcus. Lingerie came from Los Angeles, where one press report vividly described her purchase as, “wispy thin silk, lace edged nightgowns, negligee and foundation garments in pink, peach or black.”
Other undergarments, including nylon stockings, came from New York.
So did her everyday dresses, purchased from an unnamed Manhattan wholesaler.
Her shoes were bought at Delman’s on Fifth Avenue. “Not too high in the heel,” the papers said. At one point, a story appeared that they were flats, so as not to make her look taller than Rainier. Actually, they had 2½” heels.
One of the shoes in that pair, the right one, also had a copper penny hidden in it for good luck.
Her hats—a travel turban of white silk jersey, a delicate yellow straw toque plus a white tulle creation cut in baby tucks for the crown and veiling for the brim—were made by Mr. John, a well-known New York designer.
But the best frock of all came straight from MGM. As a gift, the studio not only gave her all the clothes she wore in High Society, they also asked their Academy Award–winning chief costume designer, Helen Rose, to create her wedding dress.
GqH
On the night of April 3, 1956, Grace Kelly dined with her parents at the Ambassador Hotel in New York. She had to go out for dinner because her Fifth Avenue fridge was empty. She couldn’t even make a cup of coffee for herself early the next morning before she left for Pier 84 on West 44th Street.
There was a light drizzle that morning.
Still, a good-sized crowd of well-wishers were waiting at the pier w
hen she arrived in a limousine to board the USS Constitution.
The press also came out in force. She’d previously agreed to meet them for 20 minutes inside the ship’s Pool Café. The idea was that reporters would be allotted some time with her, then a session with photographers would take place. Then, just before the ship sailed, she’d agree to appear on deck for television and newsreel cameras.
But because of the weather, all three groups jammed into the room at the same time.
Nearly 250 people fought for space in a bar that was meant to hold 50.
“This is frightening,” she gasped as microphones were shoved into her face and flashbulbs went off, non-stop. “I’m flattered at all this attention, but I wish all of you would be more considerate of one another.”
Questions were hurled at her from all sides of the room, rapid-fire, one right after another.
q: Miss Kelly, Miss Kelly, will you now give up your career?
a: I feel I am starting a new one.
q: Miss Kelly, does that mean you won’t make any more movies?
a: Right now I’m too interested in my marriage career to think about the movies.
q: Miss Kelly, will you love, honor, and obey?
a: Whatever His Highness wishes is fine with me.
q: Miss Kelly, what will it be like to be a princess?
a: I intend to take each day just as it comes.
q: Miss Kelly, Miss Kelly, please, will you wear something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue?
a: Yes, I hope so. But I haven’t figured out exactly what, yet.
q: Miss Kelly, has the Prince called to wish you a bon voyage?
a: We haven’t talked by telephone but we hear from each other every day by letter.
At precisely 11 a.m., with a blast of the ship’s horn and the tug boat’s sirens, with a ton of yellow confetti and a thousand colored streamers thrown from the upper decks, and with the sound of a band playing Dixieland jazz on the promenade deck, the USS Constitution slipped out of her berth into the Hudson River, swung downstream and sailed for Monaco.
Grace of Monaco Page 6