Love affair that could not speak its name
THREE terrible years ended yesterday for Peter Wooldridge Townsend, the handsome and gallant airman for whom the fairytale of the Princess and the war hero almost came true.
Last night’s statement by Princess Margaret brought the curtain down on an ordeal of silence more absolute than any monk’s vow.
Peter Townsend, 40, was the epitome of the fighter ace, with a DSO, a DFC and Bar, and at least 11 enemy aircraft to his credit.
During his war service, he met the beautiful Rosemary Pawle. They married within about two months of meeting and had two sons.
The unexpected factor which changed their lives — and the life of Princess Margaret — was the decision of the late King George VI to appoint equerries from among the band of young men who had served their country well. The job was for three-monthly periods and Townsend was the second Air Force Equerry.
But the King was so delighted by the gaiety, the charm, the sincerity and the efficiency of this particular young hero that he decided to keep him on permanently.
It was a full-time job and he had much less time to spend with his family. So it did not come as a great surprise to a lot of people who knew the Townsends when their marriage broke up after nine years.
As the innocent party, he was given custody of the children. Soon after, the cauldron of rumours about a romance between Princess Margaret and Group Captain Townsend began to bubble ominously.
In spite of trenchant opposition from a section of the Court circle, the Queen and the Queen Mother had declared their confidence in him by appointing him Comptroller of the Queen Mother’s household. He was to go with the Queen Mother and Princess Margaret on an official visit to Rhodesia. But the cauldron boiled over and, in newspapers outside Britain, the romance between the war hero and the Princess became front-page news.
So the second phase in Peter Townsend’s career came to an end.
To keep him away from scandal, he was sent to the obscure Belgian city of Brussels as Air Attaché. Then began a period of strain that, in a sense, was an even greater one than he had undergone during the Battle of Britain.
For 28 months, he has been under the pitiless magnifying glass of world publicity, forced to endure it, unable to speak.
It was during this period that his real strength of character was shown. For more than two years he was forced to live within himself. Even at the Riding Club, where he was among friends, there were people who made it difficult for him. ‘Well, Peter, is it Yes
or No?’ they would taunt. With a slight smile he would turn politely away and forever afterwards keep the questioner at a distance.
On occasions, he worked off his frustration by borrowing a Belgian Air Force Spitfire and throwing it around the sky.
And now, for the past 19 days, the couple have been discussing the big question — yes or no? It began on October 13, when Group Captain Townsend went to Clarence House at 6.30pm for a lovers’ meeting. The whole world said: ‘ This must be it. An engagement announcement is imminent.’ The powers-that-be thought differently. The couple filled their days with each other endlessly agonising over their future. The beginning of the end came last Thursday.
As a watery sun shone on Lambeth Palace, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Geoffrey Fisher, and the Princess talked for 40 minutes.
The Archbishop had made it clear that she could never be married in the presence of her sister or her mother. He spoke compassionately of the illimitable consequences of the marriage — consequences to make the word ‘love’ seem small.
Last Friday, the Princess went to Buckingham Palace for a final talk with the Queen. Then she spent a few, last, desperate hours with Group Captain Townsend at Uckfield, Sussex. The decision was made, spoken, accepted. Now the waiting world must be told it was over. From London, Princess Margaret summoned her mother’s private secretary, Captain Oliver Dawnay.
A statement was drafted, and returned to Buckingham Palace for approval. At 11 o’clock on Sunday night, Captain Dawnay returned to Uckfield and read over the statement to two silent people.
The statement that was to amaze the world started with the words: ‘I would like it to be known . . .’ Yesterday was the first of many empty days for Margaret and Peter Townsend.