Royal Legacy: How the royal family have made, spent and passed on their wealth

by McClure, David

  The Queen's solicitor might also have mentioned that Brown was not the first person to claim to be Princess Margaret's love child. Around January 1992 Peter Townsend was approached at his home outside Paris by a well spoken man with a Welsh accent called Philip Thomas who claimed to be the son of the princess and Townsend. The former Group Captain reported the "bizarre visitor" to the Queen Mother's private secretary hoping the matter would all blow over. But a year later he received a letter from Thomas requesting his support in getting Buckingham Palace to respond to his claim to royal blood. This time, Townsend was obliged to engage a solicitor and after considering all the options - including sectioning the claimant - it was decided that the best course of action would be to avoid any unpleasant publicity and a short letter was duly dispatched asking Thomas not to communicate with Townsend again. This appeared to do the trick in the short term but Thomas did occasionally emerge in the media repeating his claims. Townsend died of stomach cancer in June 1995.7

  Back in the High Court, Frank Hinks told the judges that Robert Brown's claim was both "frivolous” and “vexatious.” Geoffrey Robertson responded by arguing that Brown was "a perfectly rational man who seeks peace of mind." His client was simply exercising his right as a member of the public to inspection as provided for in sections 124 and 125 of the 1981 Supreme Court Act. Neither section 124 nor rule 58 of the non-contentious probate rules made an exception for royalty and the fact that the royal family might occupy a special status in society should not be a reason why public inspection should be undesirable. Indeed, he argued, the status of the royal family made it more - not less - legitimate that the public should be able to inspect their wills.

  He offered a number of reasons for this - which in terms of our wider story might be seen as providing a key insight into why the royal family have traditionally been so secretive about inheritance. In the first place, royal wills should be open in the interest of history: historians should be allowed access to such an important royal archive in order to record the nation's narrative. Linked to this argument was the interest of the media who performed a watchdog role in reporting on the workings of the tax arrangements for senior royals. Another consideration, argued Robertson, was what he called the "transparency interest:” anyone should be able to see that "nothing is being done improperly or unlawfully, that appropriate procedures have been followed and that there is nothing in the bequests or signatures of those witnessing the will from which an inference could be drawn of undue influence or foul play." This of course is the principal justification for why all wills are open to public inspection.

  Robertson went on to argue that there is a public interest in verifying the probate figures in the cases of royal wills where a court has ordered that no figures should appear on the grant of probate document or no copies of the grant should be made public. The reason for this is "to ensure that those who are given charge of national assets should not mix them up with their disposal of personal property." He did not mention her by name but Queen Mary was an obvious example of a royal whose estate was never given a clear net probate value and who appeared to “shape-shift” public and private jewellery.

  He also submitted that there is a public interest in checking whether a will indicates the existence of unrecognised offspring who might have a hereditary claim to some form of royal provision. In a separate point, he argued that Lady Butler Sloss, the former President of the Family Court, might have been misled in deciding to seal the wills if she did so merely on the basis of convention. He told the court that there was no proper basis for this practice and it amounted to nothing more than a smokescreen: "A secret, unconstitutional and unlawful practice has grown up of the attorney general going to the court and asking to put royal wills outside the law." He added that parliament had never legislated to grant secrecy to royal relations and that this practice had been invented in 1911 to conceal the will of Prince Francis, George V's brother-in-law, who had given family jewels to a mistress.8 This was a reference, of course, to Prince Francis of Teck, the black sheep of the family whom we met in Chapter Three.

  The final outcome was long coming. Amber Melville Brown and Mark Bridges had to wait another three months before on 5 July 2007 Sir Mark Potter delivered his judgement: “[while] the Plaintiff's claim is made in good faith in the sense and to the extent that he has a genuine belief that he is or may be the offspring of Princess Margaret, I am equally satisfied that there is no rational basis whatever for such belief, as his own evidence clearly demonstrates.” After weighing up all these arguments in a sixty-nine paragraph-long judgement, Sir Mark concluded that Robert Brown's claim should be struck out as "vexatious and an abuse of process, made as it is solely for the purpose of seeking to establish an imaginary and baseless claim.”9

  Following the hearing, a disappointed Robert Brown addressed the throng of media on the steps of the Royal Courts of Justice. Despite the reversal he remained defiant: "It is deeply worrying, but I have a need to resolve this. It is simply a matter of identity. It is not an attempt to embarrass the royal family." But would he appeal the decision? Indeed could he afford to?

  In deciding whether to go the Appeal Court, Brown would have had to weigh up a number of competing considerations. On the one hand, he would have realised by now that the only way to unlock his supposed mother's will was to get hold of the documentation behind the sealing orders and having unsuccessfully tried various freedom of information requests, the only realistic way to obtain this core evidence (and thereby challenge the former president’s decision) was through an order from the appeal court. On the other hand, there were costs. Engaging high profile solicitors and counsel did not come cheap and even if he was cushioned to some degree by his remaining private savings in Jersey and by the possibility of a conditional fee arrangement ("a no win, no fee deal") with his solicitors, going to the appeal court remained a perilous business.

  In the end, he decided to take the risk. After a preliminary hearing on 17 October, the panel of three appeal judges met again on December 17 to resolve among other matters the key issue of the disclosure of the evidence surrounding the original sealing orders. The appellant wished to see it but the respondents were reluctant to release it.

  The most senior of the three judges, Lord Phillips, took pride of place on the bench as presiding judge sitting on a pointed, high-backed chair in front of the royal crest in the middle of the raised dais. He had precedence over the other two by virtue of his status as Lord Chief Justice - in effect, the most senior judge in the land. He had gained that position in 2005 after five years as Master of the Rolls and head of civil justice where he had won a reputation as a reformer and moderniser. He implemented a raft of reforms first outlined by his predecessor Lord Woolf designed to make civil justice quicker and cheaper. He took the unusual step of going on BBC television to lobby for more money for the courts and later put the case for the modernisation of court dress, arguing that wigs should be scrapped in civil cases and that judges should wear French-style robes.

  Sitting to his right on the panel of judges was the fully robed Lord Justice Dyson, an experienced former Queen’s Bench judge who would later be appointed Master of the Rolls, and on his left Lord Justice Thorpe, an expert in family law from his many years sitting as a judge in the Family Division.

  Once the hearing got under way, the thorny issue of disclosure soon dominated the proceedings. Hinks began by repeating the executors' standard argument: since Lady Butler Sloss had made her original ruling on the basis of the private interest (or locus standi) to see the will, then no disclosure should be made until that issue was resolved. If Brown’s appeal succeeded, then the executors would "put in detailed evidence of the history and justification" but to require this before the issue of locus standi had been settled would run the risk of the case being “seriously derailed."10

  But in the course of making this dry legalistic point, Hinks disclosed one new piece of information. Around the time of the death of Princess Margare
t, the Senior District Judge in the Family Division had drawn up a lengthy document that reviewed the practice of sealing royal wills. This involved a system of checks and balances that was highly confidential. "The primary reason and purpose of the sealing royal wills," Hinks stated, was "to protect the privacy of the sovereign." This special procedure was discussed by the Attorney General, solicitors for the Treasury and lawyers for Buckingham Palace before the President of the Family Division finally approved it. The conclusions of the written document were kept secret and Lady Butler Sloss's successor, Sir Mark Potter, was not told of their existence.

  In response Geoffrey Robertson told the court that the decisions to seal the two wills "were made without jurisdiction, according to a practice direction that does not exist as far as the law is concerned.” He went on to argue that they were taken "in utter secrecy" and were "quite plainly unlawful and unconstitutional."11

  It is interesting to note that this revelation went unreported at the time, most probably because the press tends to follow just the opening and closing stages of long trials. The news was only picked up a month later on 23 January 2008 when the Daily Telegraph ran a piece headlined "Queen had her mother's will sealed in secret'" which quoted from a transcript of the December 17 hearing.

  The three judges met for the final time on 8 February 2008 and the secrecy surrounding the original orders to seal the wills featured prominently in their closely-argued judgment:

  “The problem is, however, that the process under which the late President [Lady Butler Sloss] made the orders was not transparent, nor the criteria applied by the former President plain.” Robert Brown's appeal, according to the judgment, raised two important issues about the royal family:

  “iv) Was it appropriate to have a special practice in relation to royal wills? If so:

  v) What, if any, information about that practice should be made public?”

  The judges concluded that if Robert Brown was not allowed to challenge the 2002 orders, then it was hard to see how anyone else could do so:

  “If Sir Mark Potter is right,” as Judge Dyson had stated in his earlier ruling giving permission to appeal, “it follows that the President's application of Rule 58 to members of the Royal Family will never be capable of being considered by a higher court.”

  The key question was whether Sir Mark Potter was right to strike out Brown's claim (thereby blocking him from raising the issues listed above). The panel of judges decided he was not right. Until those issues had been resolved it was impossible to say that Brown’s claim was doomed to failure. In a final paragraph, the judges came to the following decision:

  “It is unfortunate that the important issues to which we have drawn attention should be raised by an application made by a person motivated by a belief that is both irrational and scandalous. We have, however, concluded that the appellant was and is entitled to have a substantive hearing of his claim to inspect the wills. For these reasons this appeal is allowed.”

  Robert Brown was in court with his solicitor Amber Melville Brown to hear the judgement. When the happy couple left through the iron gates of the Royal Courts of Justice – he wheeling his heavy trolley full of document boxes, she carrying a copy of the judgment and other court paperwork - they were immediately engulfed by the waiting reporters, photographers and cameramen. Brown was naturally overjoyed at the ruling: "I am delighted we have won this case. It is a victory for openness and justice. I continue to seek the truth." But in a later separate interview with ITN, he gave a hint of his conflicted feelings: "I don’t want to embarrass the royal family…It is not easy. I would just put a plea to Her Majesty that if I am wrong, please get someone to tell me authoritatively and if I am right please tell me because I do not want to live with this for the next 20 years as it is not good for my CV and it’s not good for anything.”

  Standing at his side Amber Melville Brown cut a striking figure for the photographers in her stylish black suit, knee-length boots and blonde bobbed hair. Her comment on the judgement went to the central tenet of their case: "[there is] a statutory presumption in favour of the openness of wills in the UK and a constitutional principle of open justice…Yet there is nothing open about these wills, whether it's what's in them, why they were closed and under what procedure this was done. They are quite simply shrouded in mystery. By winning this appeal, Robert Brown may be able to peel away some of the layers of secrecy and put himself, and the public, a step closer to the truth." She added: "Robert Brown's success on this appeal means that the court will be asked to consider whether it is desirable and appropriate in this day and age that mystery should give way to transparency and that conventions that belong in the dark ages should be brought into the light."12

  Now that the case was over and the court reporting restrictions lifted the media were able to comment freely on what the judgement had revealed. They went to town on Frank Hinks's bombshell that there had been a secret agreement to keep the royal wills under wraps with the headlines thundering Queen 'had her mother's will sealed in secret: Are the secrets of the Royal Family wills about to be revealed?" (the Daily Telegraph) and “Accountant lifts veil from royal wills" (the Guardian). On the whole the coverage was sympathetic to Robert Brown although the Express On Sunday branded him a “royal fantasist" while acknowledging that he had "struck a blow for equality and an equally powerful one against secrecy."13 The Guardian went so far as to publish a leader entitled "In Praise of Robert Brown" which argued that “In a monarchy operating under the law, the wealth of the royal family is a very proper subject for public transparency. Mr Brown may or may not be who he claims to be, but he has stood up bravely for a principle that matters.”14

  In all this extensive coverage and comment, one significant revelation slipped under the radar. In resisting pressure to release all the documentation Hinks had disclosed that the Attorney General was consulted in the run up to the sealing of the wills when the "special procedure" document was drawn up. Why was “the crown’s solicitor” involved? Was he just there – as Sir Mark Potter stated in his original 2007 ruling - to safeguard the public interest in a case of sealing two royal wills where otherwise there would be no public representation? If so, then it seems odd that his role in the “special procedure” was kept hidden from the public until the appeal hearing.

  15.THE STORMING OF THE PALACE - 2008

  "There must be a suspicion that the reason that the royal family has been so determined to keep the wills secret is that, if the public realised how much money is being passed from generation to generation, they might question how much is being handed to them from the public purse"

  Norman Baker MP1

  When Robert Brown won his appeal in February 2008 to make an application to unseal Princess Margaret's will the only prominent MP to comment on the judgement was Norman Baker. In a typically forthright interview on the day of the ruling, the member for Lewes told ITN:

  "Every other will is public. Why should the royal family be any different? This particular case here involving Robert Brown - I have no idea whatsoever if his claim is justified or not and frankly I’m not interested. What I am interested in is his right to inspect that will in the same way as he would have a right to inspect any other will of any other person in the country".2

  Norman Baker was no newcomer to the cause of unsealing royal wills - or indeed to investigating wider succession matters and the royal finances. As a committed republican, he had followed Brown's campaign closely and raised the matter in the Commons as early as 2006. His office had even been in contact with Brown over the wording of questions.

  Shortly after the appeal court judgment on 8 February 2008, Baker tabled a written question to the cabinet minister Jack Straw: “To ask the Secretary of State for Justice what representations he has received from lawyers acting for the royal family on publication practice on royal wills in the last ten years.”3

  Given the revelations in the Brown case about the secret agreement between the government, the High C
ourt and palace lawyers, Baker was no doubt fishing for evidence of special privileges being granted to the royal family. Sidestepping this potential elephant trap the Justice Secretary delivered a carefully worded response:

  “Neither my predecessors, nor I have received any representations from lawyers acting for the royal family on publication practice on royal wills in the last ten years. An application to seal a royal will is made to the Principal Registry of the Family Division and is decided by the President. In the last ten years there have been two such applications; namely those in respect of Her Royal Highness Princess Margaret, Countess of Snowdon, and Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother.”

  It is worth noting that Jack Straw referred only to his "predecessors" as Justice Secretary (formerly the post of Lord Chancellor) rather than the Attorney General who we now know was involved in the 2002 procedure to seal the royal wills. Baker was well acquainted with the cat and mouse game of parliamentary questions and the less than candid responses. He has been described as "one of the most prolific questioners in British parliamentary history."4 In his first three months as an MP he asked more written questions to ministers than his Conservative predecessor had in twenty-three years and after a decade in the house, his tally of PQs had risen to eight thousand. In 2001 the Spectator magazine awarded him the title of Inquisitor of the Year.

  His critics have suggested that “Stormin’ Norman’s” inquisitorial technique owed too much to the scatter gun. In 2006-07 he asked fifty-four written parliamentary questions about the death of David Kelly, the inspector of Iraqi weapons who died in mysterious circumstances after he was outed leaking information to a BBC reporter. Unhappy with the Hutton inquiry which concluded that Kelly had committed suicide he wrote his own investigation into the affair - "The Strange Death of David Kelly" - arguing that Kelly was the victim of a conspiracy and could possibly have been murdered. Some members of Kelly’s family disagreed with his findings and one recent author who picked over the case accused him of slipping into a conspiracy theory mindset.5