Edward and Sophie have two grown-up children. They live in a 120-room Tudor gothic mansion set in 51 acres near Windsor. Alexandra is frail and elderly. She has the use of a six-bedroom, six reception rooms house, complete with two-room thatched summer house, gardener’s cottage and stables in the middle of Richmond Park. Andrew and Sarah are divorced and he continues to occupy a 30-room property, also at Windsor .
By now you’ve guessed. This is the Monopoly board existence of members of our royal family. Except theirs is a game with a difference. When you land on a square in Monopoly and it does not belong to you, you can either buy it yourself or pay rent to the owner. The higher its value the greater the amount you must cough up. Not in their “By Royal Appointment”’ version. Here, where the squares are adorned with silk and the pieces are made from real silver, there is virtually nothing owed. With the recent focus on Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor’s living arrangements (the latest is that he will be offered a temporary home at Sandringham by the king while his more permanent home on the Norfolk estate is readied) , the spotlight is now on the rest of the family. So, what is the truth about the royal finances?
In 2007, Prince Edward and Sophie paid £1.36m of the costs of Bagshot Park’s improvements (with the Crown Estate covering the rest of the £3 million refurbishment costs), and in return received a 150-year lease on Bagshot Park costing an annual £5,000. Thatched House Lodge must rank as the most splendid “country house in London”, situated amid the rolling acres of a nature reserve, with deer for company, protected by wrought iron locked gates, a private drive and round-the-clock guarding, but for that Princess Alexandra pays £2,700 a year.
As for Andrew and Fergie, Andrew paid £1m up-front and spent £7.5m on renovating Royal Lodge but for that he was granted a 75-year lease for a peppercorn or token sum.
Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell in the countryside near Balmoral
DOJ
It is because of Andrew’s friendship with the late convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein that we’ve now become more aware of the privileged lifestyles enjoyed by him and his relatives. By stripping Andrew of his titles and ordering him and his ex-wife to leave Royal Lodge, which is part of the Crown Estate, King Charles was responding to public pressure. Indeed, the unprecedented, in modern times at least, move against one of their own earned the King public acclaim.
Unfortunately for the King, while he was purging the royal family of one problem, he may unwittingly have sparked another one — that is much bigger and could have disastrous consequences for the monarchy’s future.
Having been alerted to Andrew’s financial and living arrangements, MPs and the media are focusing on the entire royal establishment, how it is funded and what taxpayers receive for their money. Everyone is piling in, even David Dimbleby, the broadcaster whose mellifluous tones reported on royal events and was associated so closely with their grandeur and significance.
Dimbleby recently presented a prime time, three-part BBC documentary series in which he complains about the Royals’ “vast wealth” and how their funding remains largely hidden and is not subject to public scrutiny. What’s the Monarchy For? examines whether they deserve their padded luxury and what benefits they bring.
Europe’s most costly monarchy
If that’s not bad enough, a more concerted probe into the royal homes owned by the Crown Estate is being led by the National Audit Office, reporting to the powerful Commons Public Accounts Committee. On the back of revelations about Andrew and coinciding with a sulphurous mood of a populace buffeted by the headwinds of rising cost of living, tax increases and a chronic housing shortage, the timing could not be worse. Not to mention a lack of state education and healthcare facilities, of the sort that properties on the scale of Bagshot Park and Royal Lodge could help fulfil (Bagshot Park was due to become a conference centre until it was determined mysteriously that the endless corridors, and what must seem countless rooms, were more appropriate for a family of four).
To quote the Chancellor explaining her latest round of unpopular budgetary measures, we must “all do our bit” — to everyone it is being said loudly, except the royal family.
A detailed report in 2024 from the anti-monarchy group Republic put the cost of the monarchy at more than £500m annually. That covers everything — expenditure, buildings, security and profits from the Duchies of Cornwall and Lancaster. A substantial portion hails from the Sovereign Grant (comprising profits from the Crown Estate’s £15bn property portfolio, which covers a large swathe of London’s St James’s and pockets dotted around Britain — many tenants of which do not benefit from the generosity extended to the royal family when it comes to their own residences).
Tellingly, given Republic’s antecedents, their study was not challenged. It has prompted Norman Baker, the former Lib Dem MP, to highlight in a new book, Royal Mint, National Debt: The Shocking Truth About the Royals’ Finances, that the bill for maintaining the UK royal family “is undoubtedly much higher than that of any other European monarchy”.
Again, publication of Baker’s work is something the royals could definitely do without right now. He makes the contrast with other royal families: in the Netherlands, the heir to the Dutch throne, Princess Catharina-Amalia, announced when she was 18 that she would renounce her £1.4m a year in income and expenses while she was a student; in Sweden, the king removed royal titles from five of his grandchildren; in Denmark, the queen took them away from four of her grandchildren, saying it was “for their own good”, and in Copenhagen, Crown Prince Frederik and his wife, Princess Mary, take their young children to state school by cargo bike. Writes Baker: “You can never imagine this normality, that informality, with the British royal family.”
Lifting the veil on royal wealth
We’ve been here before. Down the decades there have been repeated attempts to penetrate the opaque, deliberately secret nature of the royal finances. Some had limited success but in general they were politely rebuffed — a combination of royalty, fawning political leaders and officialdom combining to see them off.
This feels different, and not only for the aforementioned reasons. The Labour government holds an overwhelming majority and dominates proceedings in the Commons — the Public Accounts Committee is firmly in its grasp — and is in charge for a five-year term. Societal attitudes are shifting — thanks to social media, ordinary folks are nowhere near as cowed and respectful as they once were. You only have to look at the Arab Spring and the role social media played in overthrowing some of history’s most autocratic rulers to see how the balance can dramatically alter.
Then there is the extent of the royal houses collection, the sheer scale of which is only beginning to register with the wider public: 22 residences listed on the official royal website, including Buckingham Palace, Kensington Palace, Windsor Castle, Clarence House, St James’s Palace, Balmoral, Sandringham, Holyrood house, Gatcombe Park (home of Princess Anne), the King’s Highgrove and the equally, not-so-humble “gaffs” of Andrew, Edward and Alexandra; a further 12 that aren’t shown on the royals’ website, among them Forest Lodge (the new home of William and Catherine), Adelaide Cottage (their previous home), Frogmore House, Nottingham Cottage, Anmer Hall (William and Catherine’s Norfolk home), Dolphin House in the Scilly Isles, Dumfries House in Ayrshire (LINKwhich the King recently announced will be turned into a wedding venue), Tam-Na-Ghar at Balmoral. There is also an 18th-century Saxon house and cottages in Transylvania (the King is related to the former Romanian royal rulers).
Forest Lodge, formerly known as Holly Grove, Windsor Great Park, Berkshire
Getty Images
As Baker points out, there are 11 working royals, eight of whom are in couples. “That would imply a need for seven residences, with, being generous, an additional country retreat [for the King and Camilla, and William and Catherine], so nine in total. Yet, between them, they have access to around four times as many properties.’
In the royal line-up as well are the “grace-and-favour” apartments (provided rent-free in other words) to servants and former servants and anyone else the King wants to put up. At the last public estimate there were 272 of those.
That figure is cautionary. Because we simply do not know. Herein lies another problem for the royals and their retinue. Not only do we live in an age where forelock-tugging is not what it was, but this is also a period of heightened expectations of openness and transparency. People increasingly feel they have a right to know.
That was not the case previously. In the past, the words “private and confidential” were deterrent enough; today they act as a red rag. In this context, “no” is not an acceptable answer.
Which is where Prince William finds himself. The heir to the throne and Catherine are PR-savvy, more so than any of their predecessors. They are closely in tune with the zeitgeist and exhibit deft image-enhancing touches. They’re not afraid to use the media when it suits them to publicly voice their concerns and share personal information.
William, Prince of Wales and Catherine, Princess of Wales in September 2025
REUTERS
This creates three issues. One is what they know and we don’t. Put simply, we have little real idea of the royal family’s wealth.
While William has indicated his desire for a slimmed-down monarchy, akin to those Scandi models, he runs the risk of splitting his own family, of casting some relations into the wilderness, reducing them to commoners. Alienation brings with it the threat of spilling the beans, of a royal turning rogue. William and Catherine endured that with Harry and Meghan on Oprah — this could spark a repeat, or repeats if more than one breaks cover, and accepts what are bound to be lucrative offers.
Then there is William and Catherine themselves. The Crown Estate is keen to stress they are paying “market rent” on Forest Lodge, their eight-bedroomed new “forever” home, having paid for its refurbishment. Independent valuers from Hamptons and Savills estate agents were appointed to value the property, and William and Kate received independent legal and property advice, as did the Crown Estate.
That may be so, but there is also the matter of perception. However it is presented, for some Forest Lodge is sumptuous and extensive. They will, to use their word, be “forever” criticised. He is the future king, and eight rooms, albeit with tennis court, pond and gardens, is fair enough. But then the couple could have chosen any of the others that also lie empty.
If he wants to streamline the royal family, surely William should also reduce the properties at their disposal. For Royal Monopoly to prove popular, it requires fewer squares and more Community Chest than Chance. Oh, and, in Andrew’s case, no “Go to Jail”.
