Who Lives in St James's Palace

Who Lives in St James's Palaceの見逃せないポイントを一挙に解説しました。

Let’s be honest, if you stroll past St James’s Palace in London, you’re probably thinking, “Wow, that’s old. And brick. And probably full of people who iron their shoelaces.” And you’d be partially right. But the reality is way more hilarious and human than you’d expect.

This isn’t like Buckingham Palace, which is basically the office building of the monarchy—all state banquets and tourists taking selfies with the guards. St James’s is more like the family basement apartment of the royal world. It’s where the slightly weird relatives live, the ones who have a key to the main house but also a very specific collection of ceramic frogs.

The Head of the House: Princess Anne (The Boss Aunt)

First up, you’ve got Princess Anne. She is the palace’s most famous resident, and she is basically the aunt who shows up to Christmas dinner in sensible shoes and fixes the Wi-Fi while everyone else is arguing about politics. She lives in a set of rooms so understated that you’d probably walk past them thinking it was a janitor’s closet.

Heard she once told a reporter, “It’s just a house.” Classic Anne. She’s the kind of person who probably answers the door herself if the takeaway arrives, and the delivery driver has no idea he’s handing a korma to a literal princess. Can you imagine the tip? Probably a firm handshake and a “thank you, very efficient.”

The Other Neighbors: The Royal “Roommates”

You also have a bunch of minor royals and senior courtiers. Think of them as the roommates who post up in the living room. There’s the Queen’s cousin, the Duke of Kent, who lives here. He’s the guy who shows up to every royal event and everyone goes, “Oh right, he’s still around.” He’s like that friend who’s always at the party but never posts on Instagram.

Then there are the Gentlemen Ushers and Queen’s Messengers. Their titles alone sound like characters from a fantasy novel. One guy’s job is literally to carry diplomatic bags. Imagine telling people at a pub, “I’m a messenger for the Queen.” They’d assume you’re a spy or you just deliver very polite mail.

The Ghosts (Because You Knew They Were Coming)

No old palace is complete without a ghost story, and St James’s has a doozy. They say the spirit of Lord Guilford—a guy from the 1700s—still wanders the corridors. He apparently likes to slam doors and rustle papers. This is the ghost equivalent of a grumpy coworker who mutters about the office printer being too slow.

So imagine Princess Anne trying to sleep, and suddenly a ghost starts banging around in the kitchen. She’d probably just shout, “Oh, stop being ridiculous, Geoffrey!” and roll over. Royals don’t have time for spectral drama—they’ve got charity dinners to attend and hats to maintain.

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The Guards: The Ultimate Housemates

Outside, you’ve got the Beefeaters and the Foot Guards. They are the security guards who are also a tourist attraction. They stand there, stone-faced, while a Japanese tourist takes 47 photos of their hat. You know one of them is thinking, “My feet hurt, I need a sausage roll, and Brenda from accounting just texted me.”

But here’s the funny bit: they don’t actually guard the palace 24/7. Most nights, the palace is locked up, and the guards patrol the courtyard. So if you live in St James’s, your view is a guy in a bear-skin hat checking his phone for a minute. It’s like living in a very expensive dorm where the RA has a sword.

The Day-to-Day Reality: Normal Weirdness

What’s it like to actually live there? You cannot order takeout. Because the takeaway driver would get stopped by a guard, and then you’d have to go down and sign for your pizza like you’re accepting a nuclear code. “Yes, I ordered a large pepperoni. No, you may not take a photo of the tapestry.”

You also have to deal with the tourists constantly asking you for directions to Buckingham Palace. If I lived there, I’d probably just point randomly and say, “It’s that way, about three cups of tea from here.” And the laundry situation must be a nightmare. Where do you hang your socks in a 16th-century building? On the head of a statue of Henry VIII? “Sorry, Henry, just need to dry these socks. They’re from M&S, not Savile Row.”

So, the Final Takeaway

In short, St James’s Palace is a mix of a museum, a family home, and a very exclusive shared flat. It’s got Princess Anne, some ghosts, a guy delivering diplomatic bags, and a guard who’s probably dreaming of chips. It’s not glamorous in a Hollywood way. It’s glamorous in a “my wallpaper is 400 years old and I can’t use a toaster without setting off a fire alarm” kind of way.

Next time you walk past, give it a little nod. You’re basically walking past a very posh, very old version of your aunt’s house. And just like your aunt’s house, the Wi-Fi is probably awful, but the stories are brilliant.