Palatial digs for rent, courtesy of landlady Liz
LONDON— Pay to the order of: Elizabeth R.
Presumably that’s what would be written on the monthly rent cheque for a loverly central London flat-seeking tenant.
Great location: St. James’s Palace, just off the Pall Mall.
Posh neighbours: Princesses Anne, Eugenie, Beatrice and 79-year-old Alexandra — granddaughter of King George V and Queen Mary, bridesmaid at the wedding of then-Princess Elizabeth and the Duke of Edinburgh.
Cost: £250,000 a year, or 20,000 (about $40,000) per month.
Which is not, in fact, a king’s ransom as London prices go. Might be considered dirt cheap for, say, a nouveau-riche American dad looking to situate a daughter within royal-digger striking distance of a bachelor prince. Harry’s got a pad right next door in his father’s official residence, Clarence House.
Kate & William & George & Charlotte are over at Kensington Palace, when in town.
For the first time in history, the British monarchy is taking in lodgers within the walls of St. James. Apartment 29B actually was put on the rental market last year, though it’s unclear if anyone has yet taken the lease. Now the larger Apartment 29A is about to hit the to-let listings. Not exactly a bedsit either: five bedrooms spread over four floors, with open fireplaces and a grand staircase, at one time occupied by the Ministry of Defence.
Unfurnished, so bring your own Chippendale chairs and Aubusson rugs. Billy bookcases from Ikea just won’t do.
Tenancy, of course, especially for farmers, is a long-established system in England, with the Crown as landlord. Prince Charles derives an annual income of millions of pounds from the Duchy of Cornwall. And the monarchy’s rental income from across the realm last year rose to £2.8 million ($5.5 million). But why would the Crown be turning itself into a money-grubbing landlord for the proletariat, and using the most senior “Palace of the Sovereign” to do so? This is still, after all, at least formally, the official residence of the Queen, though monarchs have bunked down at the far uglier Buckingham Palace since 1837. It’s where Anne Boleyn spent the night before her coronation. The initials HA — Henry VIII and the doomed Anne — are carved, entwined in a lover’s knot, over a couple of hearths in the state apartments. High Commissions still present their letters and ambassadors formally accredited to “The Court of St. James.”
Seems the frugal Queen — or at least under assessment from accountants — has a cash-flow problem whilst money is urgently needed for repairs to crumbling brick-pile castles around the kingdom and essential renovations to St. James’s itself.
Now, the Queen is obviously wellheeled, with an annual income of $420 million that comes out of the Privy Purse (she voluntarily pays income tax). As a staunch monarchist, I don’t begrudge the hardworking Liz a penny of it. (In September, Her Majesty will overtake Queen Victoria as the longest-reigning sovereign, entering her 65th year on the throne.) The Queen also has a personal fortune that includes a treasure trove of privately owned jewelry — its value unknown because she’s never permitted a gemologist to study the rocks. The bling-baubles are kept in a converted air-raid shelter 40 feet under Buckingham Palace.
For the most part, Elizabeth holds the royal estates and their contents in trust, on behalf of a nation. I suppose there’s nothing stopping her from dipping into the Crown Jewels on display at the Tower of London, when in the mood. But the “Regalia” is worn only on state occasions and the Coronation Crown hasn’t been removed from its velvet niche since 1953.
As crowned heads go, Elizabeth R. is a relative pauper, nowhere near the Top 10 rich, a list headed by the King of Thailand, Bhumibol Adulyadej. He hauls down $30 billion a year. But I doubt old Bhumi would fill a ballroom outside old Siam, or drop a ceremonial puck at centre ice, as the Queen did for an NHL game in 2002.
Anyway, meandering off track here.
Londoners can now lease a flat at St. James Palace to the tune of $40,000 per month. Seems the Queen has a cash-flow problem
The St. James sublet details are revealed in the Queen’s Annual Report, published this week. The document states: “Every opportunity is taken to supplement the Sovereign Grant through growth in the number of properties available for commercial letting and reducing the number of vacant properties within the security cordon.”
I think that means: Expect a thorough background check if seriously interested in the St. James digs.
And it’s not unprecedented, this letting to the masses. During the Queen’s Jubilee and London Olympics, the Palace allowed businesses to rent its Throne Room, Tapestry Room and Queen Anne Room. Class for rent.
Although if you have to rent it, you don’t have it. Meanwhile, back at the farm . . . Wimbledon, actually, where Princess Beatrice is apparently eyeing a six-bedroom mansion situated on a private road across from the exclusive Royal Wimbledon Golf Club: four storeys, indoor pool, steam room, media (I don’t know what that means) and wine-tasting rooms. Plus a vast landscaped garden. The crib is listed at £6.95 million. Beatrice is 26 years old and, far as I can tell, does nothing for a living, part of that idle and entitled aristocratic set.
Come to think of it, not sure I’d want her as a St. James maisonette neighbour, the House of Slackers. Though she’d be handy to go over and borrow a cup of pearls from.