The British monarchy finds itself engulfed in a deep crisis, one that challenges its very survival. The future of this venerable institution now hinges on whether King Charles, Prince William, and the rest of the Royal Family can fully comprehend and address the gravity of the situation.

This isn’t merely a tale of Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor, often deemed the family’s black sheep, entangled in yet another scandal. The recently serialized book by Andrew Lownie, “Entitled: The Rise And Fall Of The House Of York,” sheds light on the deep-rooted sense of entitlement at the core of this debacle. This entitlement extends beyond immense privilege, rivaling that of the world’s wealthiest, to an expectation of complete privacy.

Historically, the narrative of royal families has frequently been marred by tales of indulgence, greed, and all manner of intrigue. For the past two hundred years, however, the British public has largely chosen to overlook these transgressions, adhering to a tradition of courteous discretion.

That era of polite indifference is drawing to a close. Last year marked a significant shift when Labour peer Lord Foulkes raised questions in Parliament concerning Prince Andrew’s role as an international trade envoy, signaling a new era of scrutiny for the royal family.

But, of course, especially for the past two centuries or so, the polite and British thing to do has been to turn a blind eye. 

Not any more. Last year, the Labour peer Lord Foulkes tabled questions in Parliament about Andrew’s career as an international trade envoy. 

He thought it was appropriate, given the former prince’s friendship with Jeffrey Epstein and his association with a whole list of dodgy sheikhs and Eastern European political and business magnates, that questions should be asked. 

But no. Lord Foulkes was told that he was not allowed to ask personal questions in the House of Lords about a member of the Royal Family. It was just not done.

A Victorian journalist, Walter Bagehot, warned against letting too much sunlight in on the magic of royalty. Ever since, that has been the dominant idea of monarchy in this country, but the downfall of Andrew has blown it sky-high.

Now the searchlight of the world’s media, and of social media, is scorching down on the House of Windsor, and many see no ‘magic’ at all. Only greed.

Sadly, the more this story is examined, the more we shall realise that Andrew might not just be a nasty bit of work, but that his sense of entitlement is something he shares with his siblings and family, the majority of whom seem to think they are entitled to live the life of Riley at our expense.

We have yet to know why Prince Edward and his wife Sophie, for example, only have to pay a peppercorn rent for living at the enormous Bagshot Park.

Andrew and Fergie were living in the 30-bedroom mansion Royal Lodge largely on our dime, but this was never made clear until the Epstein scandal blew up. 

And we know next to nothing about the money that other royals manage to slip into their trouser pockets but which in reality comes out of the public purse.

About 20 years ago, when I was working for another newspaper, our editor’s brother-in-law, who was a diplomat in the Foreign Office, got his first appointment as a foreign ambassador.

The Queen and Prince Philip embarked on a three-day visit to the country concerned. The Queen, by most people’s calculations, was one of the richest women in the world. She used to buy racehorses compulsively, the way some of us might buy bars of chocolate.

Yet when they had returned home, the ambassador was astounded to receive a claim for ‘expenses’ for their visit. This was way beyond just the costs that might or might not have been run up during the royal trip. 

The Duke was claiming for the cost of many suits, ten shirts – and much more. The Queen claimed similarly gross amounts. The bill for their three-day trip was thousands of pounds.

The ambassador tried to question this, but he was told by someone in the Foreign Office: ‘They do this wherever they go. Because although the money they receive from the Civil List is public property, their “expenses”, when travelling, go out through the Foreign Office and are never listed, and never questioned.’

My editor wanted to run the story – but pressure was put on him to remain silent.

The strange thing is that, in the ensuing years, the royals, far from becoming more accountable about their finances, have become less so.

That’s largely thanks to George Osborne who, as Chancellor of the Exchequer in 2011, introduced a new way of funding the monarchy. Rather than paying them through the Civil List, he introduced a system by which they would be paid by a Sovereign Grant.

This would be a percentage of rents and revenues from the Crown Estates, but exactly what this percentage was, and how it was all assessed, were to remain secret.

This newspaper has been arguing for years that it is the funding of the Royal Family, and their secrecy about money, that are the real scandals. Much more so than any tawdry instance of adultery or marriage break-up.

Back in 1837, Queen Victoria was asked by the then Chancellor of the Exchequer to surrender the colossal incomes of the Duchy of Cornwall and the Duchy of Lancaster. 

She refused. And in the course of her reign, the rents became serious money, since so much of the land in these Duchies – such as the Manchester Ship Canal and the Llanelli coalfields – had been industrialised.

The result? The royals, despite receiving money from Parliament through the Civil List, were pocketing truly disgusting sums – money that Queen Victoria’s chancellor believed in reality should be paid to the state. 

It allowed them to build Osborne House on the Isle of Wight, Sandringham, with its huge estates in Norfolk, and Balmoral in Scotland. All are now privately owned, but paid for with public money from the Duchies.

King Charles seems to take after his great-great-great grandmother. When he came to the throne, he insisted on being allowed to keep hold of his much-loved countryside manor, Highgrove, which was bought for him out of the revenue of the Duchy of Cornwall. 

He is no more entitled to ‘own’ this house in Gloucestershire than I am, but he regards it as his sacred right to live there, while simultaneously owning his grandmother’s Castle of Mey, Balmoral, Sandringham and a string of properties in Romania.

We do not know whether Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor will be found to have behaved in a criminal way, or what the end of his story will be. But we do know that this must be the end of a particularly greedy chapter in royal history – from the reign of Queen Victoria to the reign of Charles III.

The Epstein and Andrew story shows how important it is that the Windsors’ finances should be a matter of public record. 

It is absurd that the sovereign should continue to help himself to the money from the Duchy of Lancaster, and that William, the present Prince of Wales, should pour all the rents and incomes from the Duchy of Cornwall into his own pockets.

We know thanks to some dogged work by investigative journalists that some of the millions taken by the Royal Family through the Duchies of Lancaster and Cornwall came through rents paid by the NHS, schools and the Armed Forces. This is guaranteed to stoke public unease in the long term.

When we criticise the male members of the Royal Family, we tend to say: ‘But Princess Anne is different.’ While it is true that she works hard, and is notably more intelligent than her brothers, even she has enjoyed a life of almost grotesque wealth and privilege.

Despite the hundreds of houses and grand country properties she could have made use of, she was set up in Gatcombe Park in Gloucestershire, bought for her with a 500-acre estate by the Queen in 1976 as a wedding present. 

It is a palace, the estate has since been expanded and it must cost a fortune to run – yet we are never told where Anne’s money comes from or how she can afford to live there.

Nor do her children, Zara and Peter Phillips, seem to have much shame when it comes to making an extra bob or two from their royal status, even if they do not use the HRH titles. 

One thinks of Peter’s absolutely cringeworthy advertisements for a China-based dairy company for transmission on Chinese TV, which showed him accepting a glass of milk from a butler in a stately home, giving the impressions that it was Buckingham Palace.

Given what the Foreign Office knows about the Chinese government, its aggression and espionage, cruelty to dissidents, casual imposition of the death penalty for political crimes, do we really want our royals cosying up to the Chinese in this way? Yet Mr Phillips’s advert ends with the tag ‘British royal family member, Peter Phillips’.

Meanwhile, his sister Zara has longstanding associations with luxury brands such as Rolex, Musto and Land Rover, which she is paid to promote. Of course Zara needs to make a living, but if we noted similar behaviour in Sarah Ferguson, for example, we’d say it was tacky.

It was Jacob Rees-Mogg who said that the Andrew saga was a crisis for the monarchy because our monarchy depends on being held in affection. He is correct.

Although the late Queen seemed to be a shy, rather stiff person, she had, by the end of her reign, won huge public affection as well as respect. 

That was in part because she and her family were spared too much aggressive scrutiny when it came to their finances (though not necessarily their personal lives). 

Now that the curtains have been ripped away, now that Andrew Mountbatten-­Windsor has been paraded on the front pages of all the newspapers in the world as someone who very definitely has questions to answer, where does it leave the public’s affection for the other royals?

Their immunity is gone and the full extent of royal greed is just beginning to emerge.

I am still – just – a monarchist. I still think there is something rather wonderful about having a Head of State who is connected, by family ties through the generations, to our national history.

I hope that, in common with most people in Britain, I am generous enough to recognise that many members of the Royal Family continue to do a great job, promoting charities, performing ceremonial state functions, encouraging the arts and speaking not just to the minds but also to the hearts of the population.

But this historic link with our past, a bond of national unity, will survive only if it allows itself to be subject to scrutiny and if from now onwards it learns to live more modestly.

When a Roman Catholic cardinal becomes the Pope, he is immediately transported into the palatial setting of the Vatican, and his summer palace at Castel Gandolfo. He is surrounded by priceless treasures and works of art. But these things are the trappings of his office – they are not his private possessions.

And no Pope of modern times has ever confused the two things – the palaces and treasures that go with the office, and the belongings of the private individual, who probably owns very little.

Why can’t the royals of our country not make a similar distinction?

Charles Mountbatten-Windsor did not become our Head of State because we thought he was the best man for the job, or because he was elected.

He became Head of State because he was the son of Elizabeth II.

As a monarchist, I do not grudge him any of the trappings of office – the gold coaches, the Changing of the Guard, the grandeur of Windsor Castle and Buckingham Palace. These go with the job, just as the Pope’s treasures go with his.

Prince William should make it clear at once that he intends to renounce at least some of the monies from either the Duchy of Cornwall or the Duchy of Lancaster. It would go some way to paying off our national debt!

The details of how the Sovereign Grant is spent should also be made public. The Press and Parliament should be allowed to ask questions of the royals in just the same way they ask questions of anyone else.

To go on in the old way, the Andrew way, is not a recipe for a strong monarchy. It is to pave the way for a republic. And unless there is change, that could come much faster than any of the House of Windsor realise.