Louis Roney: Grace's place

French composer Charles Gounod wrote the opera “Faust” in 1859, and it soon became the worldwide favorite of all operas. On the 100th anniversary of Faust’s first performance, I was invited to sing the title role of Faust with the Paris Opera in a big Monte Carlo production.

The well-known “Faust” story is that of an old sorcerer who trades his soul to the devil in return for his lost youth.

In Monaco, Princess Grace was the Opera Patroness. Shortly before that, Grace Kelly had forsaken a major movie career and had crossed the ocean on a liner with her Philadelphia family to marry Prince Rainier of Monaco, thus becoming “Princess Grace.” Prince Rainier was the rather stolid son of Prince Phillip of Monaco, and needed an infusion of money very badly to run his tiny principality. Rainer had made a trip to the U.S. to “look over” a couple of potential brides with big bucks, and Grace was the one who decided that she wanted to accept his offer.

Her father, a very well off “main-line “ Philadelphia builder from Ireland, provided plenty of loot to foot the bills. The liner moored off the Monaco coast, and the Kelly family came to shore in the prince’s lavish motor yacht.

Later, when I sang “Faust” in the Monte Carlo “Royal Opera,” Grace and

Rainier sat almost onstage in the Royal Box. At the big reception in the lobby following the performance, Grace was delighted to learn that I was an American and spoke English.

“I’ve been breaking my head long enough trying to say everything in French,” she said with a laugh. She asked me if I would like to come to the Palace the next day to see the quarters where she and the prince lived. (By the way, the famous

Monte Carlo gambling casino shares its big lobby with that of the opera house, so that between the acts theater-goers can indulge in gaming.)

I readily accepted Grace’s kind invitation. At the appointed time, I approached a uniformed guard on the steps of the Palace and told him that I wanted to see the Princess. In French he muttered something like, “You and who else?” and then he called the princess’ office to ascertain just who I was. The palace itself was not a very large building, and the grounds were about the size of a football field.

Grace was quite charming and warm when we shook hands. She showed me through the “receiving rooms” in the front of the palace, and then we went out on the balcony overlooking the Mediterranean – sensational! The royal dining room was quite posh, and many a head of state, including Winston Churchill, had dined there.

Prince Rainier had just left for Paris where he maintained a large apartment, and, one heard, a longtime gorgeous mistress. Princes act like princes – married or not – it seems. Grace, too, had reputedly had a slew of Hollywood lovers, including Bing Crosby with whom she had made “The Country

Girl,” which won her an Oscar.

Princess Grace was tragically killed in an auto accident some time later with her daughter in the car. Thus came to an end the story of a pretty Philadelphia girl who chose a small European throne over a glamorous Hollywood career, and Grace never seemed to regret her decision.

In later years, I many times drove down the little road from the Grande

Corniche where Grace was killed and always paused to recall the horrible turmoil of her roadster crumpled in a heap at the bottom.