King Charles, the disquiet at Highgrove and the gardeners' exodus

Times

a day ago

T he King appeared in a circlet of feathers and a scarf draped ceremonially around the shoulders of his cream suit. It was a nod to the traditional cultures and forms of healing that underpinned his inaugural 'Harmony Summit' at Highgrove House last weekend — an event attended by indigenous tribesmen, herbalists and craftspeople.
There could have been no more fitting backdrop to the event than the gardens at his nine-bedroom residence in Gloucestershire. For 45 years, Highgrove has served as a laboratory for the King's belief that humanity should work with nature, not against 'her'. He still regularly spends time at the house, tending to the exotic flowers and plants that are his pride and joy.
Yet as 'sacred smoke' spiralled over the apple trees, elders read spiritual incantations to honour Mother Earth and the Amazon Prime documentary cameras whirred, an inconvenient truth was hidden. For, despite the King's pronouncements, life at the gardens has at times been far from harmonious.
In summer 2021, Charles signed a deal to preserve his influence over the property when he became King, a legal and technical necessity as it was due to be inherited by his son, William. Since then, he has remained involved on the most minute level, supervising everything from the size of peaches to the shade of roses. He does this by attending walkabouts at the property, then sending notes in thick red ink to garden staff who are expected to act before his next return.
The memos are often strikingly specific and emotional — demanding, for instance, that staff move a single, unacceptable ragwort from the perimeter of his swimming pool; telling them their failure to cultivate his beloved delphiniums had caused an almighty disappointment and spoilt one of his favourite moments of the summer; and even correcting grammar. Others are more positive: Charles expressing his giddy delight at the progress of a particular specimen, or affixing several exclamation marks to an upbeat comment.
'In the background, the King has entrusted a manager to become his go-between with the gardeners, many of whom say his requests are impossible to fulfil given the lack of resources. Others have complained of poor conditions, including pay as low as minimum wage. Charles is shielded from some of the issues, but not all. He was sufficiently aware of staff problems that, after the invasion of Ukraine, he dashed off a note proposing that war refugees could be recruited to help out.
Of 12 full-time gardeners employed in 2022, 11 have left, including two heads of gardens and a deputy head gardener who departed within the space of a year. One had served the King for decades. Another failed his probation after revealing a lack of knowledge about a particular flower, instantly losing Charles's trust. The monarch said of him: 'Don't put that man in front of me again.'
In late 2023, one staffer launched a grievance against the gardens' management, saying the team was overwhelmed, under-resourced and constantly struggling to fulfil the King's requests. His complaint said staff had developed physical injuries trying to keep up, and that the team suffered from low morale. It added: 'There is little management of HMTK [His Majesty the King's] expectations, and I know I would not be allowed to say we are understaffed.'
In turn, The King's Foundation, which now runs the gardens, commissioned an external investigation. It found evidence of 'staff shortages' and 'poor' management practice; that pay was an 'issue for recruitment and retention'; and that churn was so severe the gardens had been given 'carte blanche' to hire temporary workers. It recommended 'management training for all managers', 'mental health support and counselling' and a pay review. Yet insiders say issues have persisted.
Charles's charity has done away with the title of 'head of gardens', appointing only a 'head gardener' after successive departures, and removed the role of deputy head gardener. Two more staff walked out around the start of this year. In turn, the gardens have continued to rely on staff sent from Charles's other estates, as well as career-changers and local volunteers.
The fact Highgrove is a demanding workplace has been hinted at in the past. Almost two decades ago, The New York Times published an article entitled 'Organic looks easy, if you've got a royal staff'. In it, the newspaper's gardening columnist said the eight gardeners 'may seem like a lot until you grasp the amount of labour involved', pointing out that their productivity was hard to believe given they are not allowed to use pesticides. Yet today is the first time that concerns have surfaced publicly.
Last night, the palace declined to comment. The King's Foundation adopted the same approach but a source close to the charity said it was entirely natural that Charles retained a keen interest in the gardens. They said staff had been given pay increases and the proposals contained in the grievance report had been mostly implemented. The source added that there were no longer any vacancies within the gardening team, and only injuries that could occur 'within any working garden' had been reported.
On July 1, 2021, Charles, as Prince of Wales, signed a deal to protect his life's work.
Highgrove had long been his private home, although his real refuge was its outdoors. He had spent decades cultivating the gardens, transforming unloved pastureland into a world of buttercups, birdsong and cherry trees — a process that felt to him like a 'form of worship'.
TIM GRAHAM PHOTO LIBRARY/GETTY IMAGES
Yet with his mother's health declining and Charles's 50-year wait for the throne nearing its end, those around him turned to an awkward fact of the original purchase. Technically, it was not his for ever. He had bought Highgrove via the Duchy of Cornwall, the 1,000-year-old private estate that belongs to whoever is heir to the throne. That would soon be William.
To preserve his access to the place he loved, Charles created a new company, Highgrove Nominees Limited, which had one shareholder: 'His Royal Highness Charles Philip Arthur George The Prince of Wales.' He entered into a 20-year agreement to rent the estate through the company. His landlord: the Duchy of Cornwall, which, under his control or his son's, would have to honour the deal. The price agreed was £340,000 per year.
As a result, Charles could keep the residence, a balustraded manor built in the 1790s, until the age of 92, while subletting the gardens to The Prince's Foundation (now The King's Foundation), which would oversee their day-to-day management while he attended to royal duties. It would also raise funds through an expanded offer of tours, classes and branded goods, making Charles less reliant on wealthy individuals for potentially embarrassing donations.
Farrer & Co, the royals' lawyers, put finishing touches on the final agreement. Alastair Martin, keeper of the records of the Duchy of Cornwall, applied the wax seal, granting Charles's assent. Finally, the prince could breathe a sigh of relief.
In actual fact, it was only the start of more problems.
Today's article is based on interviews with eight sources who have worked as royal gardeners or have detailed knowledge of the estate's inner workings. None has spoken on the record, mostly because of concerns about breaching the non-disclosure agreements they had to sign with both the charity and the royal household. Some expressed concern about doing anything that would require them to revisit, or speak publicly about, a painful period of their lives.
Those we spoke to were united in their conviction that Highgrove was in a state of dysfunction, but not in their diagnosis as to why. Some point to Charles's meticulous approach. They acknowledge that many find his passion inspirational or endearing, but say his feedback — the flashes of frustration, the specificity — can be demoralising and, given his unique status, impossible to object to.
Others talk about Constantine Innemée, the executive director of Highgrove and one of Charles's most trusted advisers. Under his leadership, staff are told to prioritise Charles's wishes — even if they seem impractical. According to the 2023 grievance, on one occasion Innemée 'shouted at' one gardener who had sought to tell the King about staffing issues. Innemée insists he was being 'firm', and the grievance report made no finding on the matter.
Constantine Innemée watches on as the Beckhams and the King speak at Highgrove in February
FINNBARR WEBSTER/GETTY IMAGES
Low pay is a running sore, with wages poor even by industry standards. At times as many as half of the garden's employees have been paid minimum wage. Charles is aware of the churn. Yet the monarch's determination to realise his vision has remained undimmed.
'There was nothing here at all.' So Charles recalled when he granted his friend, the gardener and broadcaster Alan Titchmarsh, a tour of Highgrove several years ago — an interview in which he explained his decision in 1980 to buy the house and the fields encircling it from Viscount Macmillan, son of the former prime minister Harold Macmillan.
The prince was a 31-year-old bachelor with time on his hands. He turned to the Marchioness of Salisbury, a horticulturist, to design the gardens based on their shared principles of organic farming and sustainability. A team of gardeners was hired. On spare weekends, Charles would tend to the gardens himself. He told Titchmarsh: 'I actually planned everything in this myself, I did the whole thing, I chose all the plants.'
Alan Titchmarsh at Highgrove for a BBC programme in 2011
SPUN GOLD/BBC
In the early years, Charles was as selective with those he invited to the estate as he was with the botany. It was his private home, not an official residence. Meanwhile, the gardens prospered. Successes included the kitchen garden — 'a mass of strawberries, raspberries and gooseberries' — the arboretum — a woodland of sapphire and purple bulbs — and the stumpery, decorated with ferns and wood-carved sculptures. They were joined by the Sundial Garden, showcasing Charles's beloved delphiniums, and the Thyme Walk.
As the garden thrived, Charles began opening up his creation. In 1990, he founded Duchy Originals, a company that sold organic food some of which was grown on site. For many years, such products were the closest most members of the public got to the gardens. Those who belonged to a charity or garden club could apply to visit but waiting lists were long and only minimal numbers were admitted. That changed in the 2010s. As he sought to widen the reach of his personal philosophy of 'harmony', Charles opened up the gardens to paid public tours. Hundreds, then thousands, then tens of thousands visited during the summer months. By June 2021, 40,000 people were visiting a year.
The next month, Charles signed his deal with the Duchy of Cornwall, as part of which he leased the gardens to The Prince's Foundation. The small print made clear that, even as his charity took responsibility for management and finance, Charles had the right to view the 'gardens at any time without notice', hunt 'all games, hares [and] rabbits' as he pleased and 'fell, cut and carry away [any] saplings'. It would also work to 'ensure [his] privacy' when he was in residence, prevent 'any prejudicial effect on the reputation of … His Highness or any member of the Royal Family' and give him sole access to the swimming pool.
Crucially, whereas Charles had once managed the gardeners directly, this responsibility now fell to Constantine 'Costa' Innemée, a Dutchman who grew up in the Hague. After graduating in journalism at Napier University in Edinburgh in 2011, he started his career as a press officer at The Prince's Foundation. There he caught the eye of Michael Fawcett, the head of the charity and the man Charles once said he could 'not live without'. Fawcett quit in November 2021 over the 'donations for honours' scandal that bedevilled the foundation.
Charles and Michael Fawcett in 2019
ANDREW MILLIGAN/PA
Innemée's ability to pre-empt the King's wishes and deliver quickly won him swift promotion. In 2021, he became Highgrove's executive director. The brief was clear: to transform the gardens into a cash-cow capable of funding Charles's other projects. He resolved that Highgrove would open itself up to private dining, including black-tie dinners and galas, practical classes such as 'sound healing' and candle-making, and more tours — with groups visiting every half hour in peak months. In retail, he widened the range of goods from the usual gin and jam to stationery and jewellery, as well as panama hats and tweed caps similar to those worn by Charles. Innemée deferred to Charles on horticulture, yet this arguably sensible division of labour would create its own tensions.
As he prepared to ascend the throne, and then as monarch, Charles was busier than ever. But he continued to exercise strict control over the gardens. He did so through morning walkabouts supervised by Innemée and attended by a selected gardener. Hands tucked behind his back, he ambled from plant to plant, issuing instructions to be written up and acted on before his next return. In between visits, gardeners were to send detailed updates, which had to comply not only with precise botanical standards but also grammatical ones. Memos were to be addressed to 'YRH' (Your Royal Highness) and later 'YM' (Your Majesty) and avoid phrases Charles saw as improper.
In turn, Charles responded with his characteristic handwriting on thick paper cards. Why were the name tags missing from his favourite magnolia? Why had the gardeners failed to save his beloved evergreen azalea? Why was a particular cherry tree failing to grow? Why had the delphiniums been cut back when doing so would harm their progress — and, for that matter, were they being fed enough seaweed, in line with his instructions? Was the public restaurant serving the particular kind of waxy potato that was his favourite?
At times, Charles struggled to contain his frustration, asking staff why his acers had been left in a disgraceful state, or why they had failed to find a pink version of a cornus as requested. When one staffer misspelt the name of a Japanese deciduous shrub, he underlined the incorrect letter and sent a two-lettered objection: 'No!' The same passion, it should be said, could give way to tiggerish charm, as Charles expressed his gratitude and excitement about the progress of everything from salad leaves and onions to netting for his delphiniums.
The King's intense approach and unapologetic demands for high standards provoked varying reactions. Some garden staff told us his attention to detail was unsurprising and only natural. One said: 'He's always been a gardener. If you were employed by somebody that wants stuff a certain way, I don't think that's a ridiculous demand. They're paying you and they ask you, 'I want an avenue of trees along here', I don't think that's an unreasonable thing to ask people who you're employing.' Another individual still close to Charles pointed out that he would offer positive feedback and genuine enthusiasm with equal vigour. Others took a less charitable view. One gardener said staff were treated like 'dirt', adding: 'There was anger boiling at the surface … very impatient, no politeness at all.' This person said the King's position made it impossible to speak up: 'It was like, you should be thankful that we've given you a job, and you work for the King, the highest person in the country.'
Sources claim Innemée struggled to absorb Charles's anxiety or dilute more impractical requests. As one former gardener described it, if the King wanted a plant to be moved from A to B but the gardener's professional opinion was that it would die as a consequence, Innemée's position would be to insist on it anyway.
As the gardens developed, the permanent staffing numbers remained the same at 12, only a handful more than the eight there had been almost 20 years prior. The budget for the gardens, which were expected to deliver seven-figure turnover and profit, had been transferred to the foundation and was in the low hundreds of thousands of pounds. Money was tight. One staffer concluded: 'Look, I just can't get this done.'
Insiders recall that, after the foundation took over, staff had their contracts transferred from the household to the charity, making them answerable to Innemée. The head of gardens was one of the first to walk out. Junior staff ­followed, many citing low pay. In the days when Charles ran the estate himself, sources say he had from time to time ­written cheques to top up salaries and pay for unexpected costs. The moment he transferred it to his charity, this stopped.
By March 2022, out of 12 staff, three were on an hourly wage of £8.91, the minimum wage; two were on £9.50, the minimum wage for the following year; and one, a student, was on £8.36. Innemée did permit modest pay increases for some of the replacements, but sources say gardens elsewhere remained more competitive. One source said low pay was a 'notorious' fact of royal life and a sacrifice people were willing to make because of the 'kudos' on one's CV. Yet in the modern era, and with staff now answering to a charity, not the household, fewer appeared willing to tolerate it.
In the middle of 2023, as the situation deteriorated, some gardeners turned to Innemée, hoping he might use his relationship with the King to secure more resources. By then, Charles was not only managing the gardens from afar but, from time to time, asking for help on his private property, which was not covered by the charity.
This included asking staff to tame plants growing by his pool or his personal study, and requesting that fruit be poached and made into jam at the house. Such requests appear to violate the terms of the agreement through which the charity is present at Highgrove. Sources now say they were made because the public-facing gardens offered a view of the private area and the King wished for visitors to see high standards everywhere. On a more immediate level, they added to the demands faced by staff.
On one occasion, a gardener took the opportunity during a walkabout to tell Charles that if he wanted to cultivate his magnolias in a particular way, he would need a specialised — that is, a new — member of staff. Later, according to the grievance, Innemée summoned this person, allegedly 'screaming' at them and subjecting them to a 'humiliating' dressing-down. Innemée insists he was firm on this occasion but did not overstep the mark. The subsequent report did not make a finding either way.
In November 2022, the first of two head gardeners left. According to a source, 'HMK [His Majesty the King] did not like him.' Others said he resigned because he could not bear to deal with the charity's politics. A short time later, a deputy gardener made the technical error during a walkabout — apparently about magnolias. Charles insisted he be removed immediately. At the end of the man's probation period he was told by Innemée that he had not passed, with foundation sources now claiming he was not at the 'level required for the role'.
Charles was, at the least, aware of the staffing shortages. He proposed remedying them with elderly volunteers, who he said had done a terrific job at Ray Mill, his wife Camilla's home in Wiltshire, or refugees from the war in Ukraine. The estate duly put out a call to 'local green-fingered enthusiasts' who could 'play their part in caring for our green space'. In keeping with Charles's suggestion, Highgrove said it was specifically searching for 'semi-retired and retired men and women'. The King would be updated on individual staff departures and where they were leaving for.
By August 2023, one senior gardener had had enough, submitting a grievance claiming that: 'There is little management of HMTK expectations, and I know I would not be allowed to say we are understaffed. I once gave advice regarding a staffing requirement for propagation and I was shouted at by [Innemée] and reprimanded after the walkabout. There has been an ongoing issue with staff shortages and this has created negativity and low morale within the team.'
The King's Foundation retained the services of WorkNest, an independent HR consultancy, to investigate the allegations. It did not uphold personal complaints about Innemée, who denied his conduct amounted to bullying or harassment, but upheld the fact that there were severe staff shortages and poor management practices, including in relation to the man who made the error about magnolias. Its final report recommended Highgrove provide 'management training for all managers'; offer 'all employees' mental health support and counselling; manage probation periods in a 'fair' way; and review pay if it continues to be 'an issue for recruitment and retention'.
Those who remain at the gardens say similar issues persist. The gardens are now on their third head gardener in as many years, the deputy role has never been filled and two gardeners are said to have left late last year. One person told us they could not bear to discuss their time at Highgrove, saying that for mental health reasons they had to consign that period in their life to the past.
Meanwhile, accounts for The King's Foundation for the last financial year stated that 'trading income exceeded donation income for the first time due to strong retail and garden tour sales'. They singled out Highgrove, where turnover, at almost £6 million, was higher than any of Charles's other properties.
In a statement, the foundation cited many 'positive' developments at Highgrove since assuming management including higher profits and visitor numbers. It said the public 'enjoy discovering' the King's 'personal impact' on the estate, adding that there were 'high satisfaction rates' among staff.
The King remains as committed to his estate as ever. Despite all the money, and legal complexity, he has always had a simple recipe for the estate: 'harmony' — between humanity and nature, if not always between his own staff.