What happened inbetween is straight out of a fairytale, a tale of forbidden love, sacrifice and, ultimately, a royal wedding
Princess Lilian of Sweden: Born Lillian Davies in Swansea she married into Sweden’s royal family after a 33-year secret romance with Prince Bertil.
Growing up as a soldier’s daughter in a cramped, terraced house, Lillian Davies could only fantasise about living a fairytale existence.
Yet that is precisely how life unfolded for the girl who would go on to become Princess Lilian of Sweden – she dropped one ‘l’ from her name believing it appeared more refined. Her extraordinary story had fallen into obscurity until researchers, captivated by the former model, investigated her past.
“Raised in Wales, she partook in the war effort and worked at a factory that made radios for the Royal Navy and at a hospital for wounded soldiers,” a spokeswoman for ancestry.co.uk said. Never miss a Swansea story by signing up to our newsletter here
“In the 1940s she became a fashion model and met Prince Bertil of Sweden while at a cocktail party allegedly in honour of her 28th birthday.”
That represented one account of events at least – another suggested the pair met at a nightclub, while a third claimed it was on the London Underground. One tale alleged the prince saved her from an intoxicated sailor, while some maintain they sheltered together during an air raid in the Blitz.
Lilian was born in Swansea on August 30, 1915. After finishing school at 14, she left for London two years later to pursue modelling and acting.
She appeared in advertisements for hats and gloves and secured minor roles in films. She wed British actor Ivan Craig in 1940, though that marriage ended in divorce – it was while still married that she encountered the prince.
In My Life With Prince Bertil, petite Lilian wrote: “He was so handsome, my prince. Especially in uniform. So charming and thoughtful. And so funny.”
Yet their life together was far from straightforward — when the couple first met, Swedish royalty was forbidden from marrying commoners, and King Gustav VI refused to permit his son to wed Lilian, fearing it would threaten the Bernadotte dynasty.
The pair subsequently relocated to France, remaining there until 1957 before eventually returning to Sweden.
Lilian made her first public appearance alongside the prince in 1966, at a celebration marking the birthday of Bertil’s younger brother Carl Johan, while her official royal debut came in 1972 at the king’s 90th birthday celebrations.
Speaking to The Boston Globe in 1985, Lilian took a light-hearted view of the difficulties they had faced.
“In a loving relationship a sense of humour is important,” she said.
“You have to laugh at the pressures in your life. Especially, you have to laugh at yourself. Companionship is one of the things that has made our relationship. We have always enjoyed doing the same things. We take long walks together. I love my husband’s loyalty toward his duties, his job. Besides, he’s a very good chef.”
Following the death of Bertil’s father in 1973, Prince Carl Gustaf ascended to the throne and granted Bertil permission to marry Lilian. The wedding took place on December 7, 1976, at Drottningholm Palace, near Stockholm — concluding a courtship spanning 33 years, with both now well into their 60s.
Bertil said ahead of the big day: “Sometimes I have wished to be someone else, it would have been great to have children. In a way these years have felt like a sacrifice.
“But I could not think of doing anything but what I have done. If I had left the royal court and married, my father would have been left alone with all his duties. But all’s well that ends well.”
Lilian insisted her wedding was “the happiest day of my life.
“I was as nervous as a kitten,” she said.
“I had butterflies in my tummy. When we exchanged vows, I was afraid I wouldn’t even remember my husband’s name.”
She wore a “wonderful” pale blue gown.
Prior to the ceremony, Bertil enquired: “What will you wear on your head? We are of a certain age, so you cannot wear a tiara.”
“He wouldn’t be put off,” said Lilian.
“So I told him I was wearing feathers in my hair. Well, I’ll never forget the astonished look on his face.
“Feathers?” he said. The prince fell silent.
“Actually, I wore a hat covered with feathers that were dyed to match my wedding gown,” Lilian said.
“He told me then that I was a beautiful bride. My husband is an ordinary man. He doesn’t behave like a prince. When I have company, he helps me in the kitchen. We get dressed up for the job, like the Nobel Prize, but as soon as we get home, we get into our favourite clothes, sweaters and trousers.”
Princess Lilian paid dearly for her devotion, and always carried with her the regret of never having had children.
“But now the queen’s children are like my children,” she told The Globe. “It makes up. Well, not quite.”
She struggled with being kept from public view for so many years.
“Sometimes I felt it wasn’t nice,” she said. “But it was nice that we were together, anyway.”
The royals may have been hesitant to acknowledge Lilian, but she captured the hearts of the Swedish public.
Magazine features showed the pair enjoying golf and riding on the prince’s motorbike.
When Bertil required a walking frame following surgery, she affectionately nicknamed it his “Bugatti”.
His and Lilian’s “first priority” was that “we always loved one another. We were comrades,” he said.
“We were friends. We helped each other. And all that loyalty still continues. I was never bitter about not being able to marry. It was difficult for my father to give us permission to marry. I understand that. I had promised my father that I’d stay with him, to help him with his work,” he added.
“He was a wonderful man. I could talk to him about anything. Nothing ever embarrassed him.”
Bertil fulfilled his obligations and waited. For 33 years.
“That’s a long time,” he said. “But we were happy together, so it was not as bad as it may seem. We had a pleasant life. What was difficult was that she was not allowed to appear at my side in public. That hurt me. But what could I do?”
The couple “got used to it”.
“She had courage,” Bertil said. “That gave me courage. Now that the Swedish people know her, they love her. Even my father was kind to us. I know he liked her.”
Then aged 73, he had given up the motor racing he loved in the 1930s.
“I’ve always thought the sportsman was a happy man,” he said.
“I loved sports – any kind of sports. A sportsman is competitive. I like competition, especially on the Olympic level. The rivals are at war with each other.
“Yet the overriding spirit is unity. I do love unity.”
Bertil passed away in 1997 and Lilian died aged 97 in 2013 following a battle with Alzheimer’s disease.