The Jewel House: An Account of the Many Romances Connected with the Royal Regalia Together with Sir Gilbert Talbot's Account of Colonel Blood's Plot

CHAPTER VII

Chapter 73,887 wordsPublic domain

THE GREAT TRAGEDY

Tragedy comes to the Crown Jewels—The Parliamentary obsession—The emblems of royalty to be destroyed—Some sensible Lords—The Puritan unmasked—Some excellent bargains for the righteous—The Black Prince’s ruby sold for £4—Concealed and returned to Charles II—Alfred the Great’s Crown melted down—Then 800 years old—Fetched £238—Queen Edith’s Crown—Sold for £16—A glass cup for £102—The golden Dove, emblematic of the Holy Ghost, £26—The three swords another bargain—St. George’s gold spurs for £1 13s. 4d.—The “old horne comb”—A complete list of the Royal plate and jewels with their values—The Robes destroyed—The Restoration—Regalia furnished for Charles II—Cost £320,000 of our money—Included therein “a paire of Trowses and breeches over them”—The presents of plate—The city of Exeter’s gift—And that of the Borough of Plymouth—A wine fountain and its uses—The Great Salts—A golden baptismal font—The pilfering of jewels—James II pays £500 for hire of jewels at his coronation—A new State Crown required—A diadem which cost £110,000—A new Sceptre with the Dove £440—The Sceptre with the Cross £1025—St. Edward’s staff—A new Orb for Queen Mary of Modena—The aquamarine monde of James II—The Maundy Dish—The Alms Dish and flagon of William and Mary—The Imperial Crown of India—Queen Mary’s Crown—The tragedy of 1649 happily wiped out.

THE greatest tragedy which has ever happened to the Crown Jewels occurred during the sway of the Commonwealth. This period, thus misappropriately named, was, it is said by people who know all about these things, merely a national aperient, which as such, they say, served its purpose, but the medicine smells no sweeter to many of us of this day than it did to those who had to swallow it in that bygone age. The Parliamentarians took themselves extremely seriously, and in the solemn attempt to stamp out the monarchy, and all monarchical principles, they with the limited intelligence that permeates the parochially-minded thought to further this fanatical principle by destroying even the emblems of royalty. This though these had become nothing more dangerous than any other articles of wondrous historic value such as are fitly preserved in the British Museum. This class of fanatic might, with ponderous conscientiousness, blow up the Pyramids of Egypt in furtherance of some similar principle.

In solemn conclave, therefore, the House of Commons passed a resolution that all emblems of royalty should be totally broken up, the gold and silver to be melted down, and the jewels sold to the best advantage. True there were a few sensible members of the House of Lords who pointed out that the historic value of the Crown Jewels far exceeded their intrinsic worth, and that to melt down crowns and plate and to disperse jewels of renown was a very extravagant procedure, especially so in an era of strict economy. Nevertheless, broken up and destroyed were the Crown Jewels, and happily we have a list of the portions which fell into the meltingpot, or beneath the hammer of the auctioneer. The House of Commons of those days was liberally primed with what are known as Puritans. A Puritan was doubtless an excellent person according to his lights, but an outside world has since been, perhaps unjustly, somewhat inclined to confound him with another not very popular and more ancient biblical type. It is, therefore, perhaps not unnatural to find that many mundane persons of those days, such as Royalists and Cavaliers, in whispers at the time and later more openly, declared that the disposal of the Crown Jewels was so effected as to give the Members of Parliament and their friends some very handsome bargains.

This, indeed, would not be difficult, for as a matter of policy it was considered inadvisable that any obtrusive popular rush should take place for the possession of these royalist relics. Rather was it endeavoured to demonstrate of what little value they were in the eyes of the simple Republican; therefore, doubtless the sale was little advertised. It would be very interesting to know, for instance, who and how some lucky person secured the Black Prince’s ruby, which is, and was, practically priceless, for £4. It may, of course, have been a Royalist who obtained possession, and who, guarding it carefully, handed it back to Charles II on his Restoration. We should like to think so. But more probably it went at that bargain price to a friend of Parliament, and by him was preserved as a good investment, and eventually was sold back for money, or a substantial benefit, to Charles II. All that really matters now is that the ruby survived those troublous days, and found itself again in a place of honour in the State Crown of Charles II.

An object of great interest which was melted down was the Crown of Alfred the Great. This was made of gold wire-work, set with small gems, and weighed 79-1/2 ounces. Even at that time it was nearly 800 years old. Melted down, this crown was sold at £3 an ounce, and fetched altogether £238 10s. 0d. What became of the stones is not stated. Either the despoilers had a disappointment in the Crown of Queen Edith, wife of King Harold, or its value was of set purpose depreciated. This crown had always been held to be of massive gold, but the assayers, it is said, found that it was made only of silver-gilt, but it was set with garnets, pearls, sapphires, and other stones. It weighed 50-1/2 ounces, and was sold for £16 only. This appears to have been a good investment for the fortunate purchaser.

The “large glass cup wrought in figures,” which is mentioned in the inventory as having been sold for £102 15s. 0d., was a very ancient and valuable article. It was not of glass, but was made of agate, and was the great “stone” chalice of Edward the Confessor. It is mentioned by Sporley, and was then six hundred years old, and the date of the sale is nearly three hundred years ago. All trace of this chalice has been lost; it has probably long since been broken and thrown away, unknown and unhonoured.

Amongst the articles to be broken up or sold is a curious item. It is entered as “A dove of gold, set with stones, and pearle, poiz. 8-1/2 ounces, in a box sett with studs of silver gilt.” By some this has been confused with the ampulla or golden eagle, for a dove or an eagle when not very exactly made might resemble each other or any other bird. Very possibly the Parliamentary Commissioners did so mistake this dove for an eagle, and thought they were destroying the ampulla. This, however, as we have seen, was hidden away and escaped the general sacrilege and destruction. This dove was probably merely a holy emblem representing the Holy Ghost, as does the dove on the top of the sceptre.

Amongst the less valuable articles sold are mentioned three swords with scabbards of cloth of gold, which were disposed of for £1 each. Here again somebody secured a great bargain, for these three swords would in all probability be those sent to Henry VIII by the Pope, when he bestowed on that monarch the title of “Defender of the Faith.” These three swords were reproduced from ancient drawings at the Restoration of Charles II, and are now preserved in the Jewel House. They are the swords of Justice, Temporal and Spiritual, and the Sword of Mercy. The point of this latter sword has been purposely broken off about six inches, as an emblem of mercy. The ultimate fate of three original swords is not known. Only a short time ago, however, three swords very like these were dug up at Mitcham when the foundations of a house were being prepared. This spot has long been known as the site of an ancient Anglo-Saxon settlement, and it is probable that there was still a hamlet here in Cromwellian days. It is, therefore, quite possible that someone bought or acquired the swords at the great dispersal, that their history got lost sight of, and that they were lost and buried amidst the natural decay which ordinary buildings suffer in the course of centuries.

One of the King’s military emblems, St. George’s Spurs, are mentioned as having been sold for £1 13s. 4d., they had always been held to be of pure gold, but were sold as silver gilt.

Last of the list comes an almost pathetic article, to wit, one old home comb “worth nothing.” This was probably the comb which may have been used for centuries, and by many Kings, to rearrange their hair after the Archbishop had perchance disturbed it when anointing His Majesty’s head at the coronation.

A list of the chief portions of Regalia, broken up and sold by order of Parliament, with the prices realised, mentioned in _The Crown Jewels of England_,[10] may be of interest:—

“A true and perfect Inventory of all the plate and jewells now being in the upper Jewell-house of the Tower, in the charge of Sir Henry Mildmay, together with an appraisement of them, made and taken the 13th, 14th, and 15th daies of August, 1649:

The Imperial crowne of massy gold, £1110 0 0 weighing 7 lbs. 6 oz., valued at

The queenes crowne of massy gold, £338 3 4 weighing 3 lbs. 10 oz.,

A small crowne found in an iron chest, £73 16 8 formerly in the Lord Cottington’s charge (from other accounts this appears to have been the crown of Edward VI.),

——the gold, the diamonds, rubies, £355 0 0 sapphires, etc.,

The globe, weighing 1 lb. 5-1/4 oz., £57 10 0

Two coronation bracelets, weighing 7 £36 0 0 oz. (with three rubies and twelve pearls),

Two sceptres, weighing 18 oz., £60 0 0

A long rodd of silver gilt, 1 lb. 5 oz., £4 10 8

The foremention’d crownes, since y^e inventorie was taken, are accordinge to ord^r of parm^t totallie broken and defaced.

_The inventory of that part of the regalia which are now removed from Westminster Abbey to the Jewel House in the Tower._

Queene Edith’s crowne, formerly £16 0 0 thought to be of massy goulde, but, upon trial, found to be of silver gilt; enriched with garnetts, foule pearle, saphires and some odd stones, poiz. 50-1/2 oz., valued at

King Alfred’s crowne of goulde wyer £248 10 0 worke, sett with slight stones, poiz. 79-1/2 oz. at £3 per oz.,

A goulde plate dish, enamelled, etc., £77 11 0

One large glass cupp, wrought in £102 15 0 figures, etc.,

A dove of gould, sett with stones, and £26 0 0 pearle, poiz. 8-1/2 oz., in a box sett with studs of silver gilt,

The gould and stones belonging to a £18 15 0 collar of crimson and taffaty, etc.,

One staff of black and white ivory, £4 10 0 with a dove on the top, with binding and foote of goulde,

A large staff with a dove on y^e top, £2 10 0 formerly thought to be all gould, but upon triall found to be, the lower part wood within and silver gilt without,

Two scept^rs one sett with pearles £65 16 and stones, the upper end gould, the 10-1/2 lower end silver. The other silver gilt with a dove, formerly thought gould,

One silver spoone gilt, poiz. 3 oz., £0 16 0

The gould of the tassels of the livor £13 0 0 cull’d robe, weighing 4 oz., valued at £8, and the coat with the neck button of gould, £2, the robe having some pearle, valued at £3, in all

One paire of silver gilt spurres, etc., £1 13 4

All these according to order of Parliament are broken and defaced.”

The ancient coronation robes destroyed at the same time are catalogued and valued as follows:—

“One common taffaty robe, very old, £0 10 0 valued at

One robe, laced with goulde lace, £0 10 0

One livor cull^ed silk robe, very old £0 0 0 and worth nothing,

One robe of crimson taffaty, sarcenett £0 5 0 valued at

One paire of buskins, cloth of silver £0 2 6 and silver stockings, very old, and valued at

One paire of shoes of cloth of gold, at £0 2 6

One paire of gloves embroid^ed w^th £0 1 0 gould, at

Three swords with scabbards of cloth £3 0 0 of goulde, at

One old combe of horne, worth nothing, £0 0 0

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Total in the chest, £4 11 0”

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The old Regalia having thus been wantonly destroyed, it became necessary when the monarchy was restored to make anew the emblems of royalty. This work was entrusted to Sir Robert Vyner, the Court Jeweller, with instructions that he was to follow as closely as possible the fashions of those destroyed.

The order included two crowns, one the Crown of England, known as St. Edward’s Crown, with which the King was to be crowned, and the other a State Crown which the King in accordance with ancient custom would wear on all other State occasions during his reign. Two sceptres also were to be made, one the Sceptre with the Cross and the other the Sceptre with the Dove. The Orb of gold set with jewels and surmounted by a cross came next; then St. Edward’s Staff, which is to guide the King’s footsteps, and the Armilla[11] and Ampulla.[12] The bill for these, together with some minor portions of the Regalia, amounted to £32,000, or about £320,000 at the present purchasing value of the sovereign.

Sir Edward Walker, Garter Principal King-at-Arms in the reign of Charles II, gives an interesting and detailed account of this restoration of the Regalia.[13]

“Because through the Rapine of the late unhappy times, all the Royall Ornaments and Regalia heretofore preserved from age to age in the Treasury of the Church at Westminster, were taken away, sold and destroyed, the Committee mett divers times not only to direct the remaking such Royall Ornaments and Regalia, but even to sette the form and fashion of each particular: all which doe now retayne the old names and fashion, although they have been newly made and prepared by orders given to the Earle of Sandwich, Master of the Great Wardrobe, and S^r Gilbert Talbott, Kn^t., Master of the Jewell House.

Hereupon the Master of the Jewell House had order to provide two Imperial Crownes sett with pretious Stones, the one to be called St. Edward’s Crowne, wherewith the king was to be crowned, and the other to be putt on after his Coronation, before his Ma^ties retorne to Westminster Hall. Also

An Orbe of Gold with a Crosse sett with pretious Stones.

A Scepter with a Crosse sett with pretious Stones, called St. Edward’s.

A Scepter with a Dove sett with pretious Stones.

A long Scepter, or Staffe of Gold with a Crosse upon the top, and a Pike at the foote of steele, called St. Edward’s staffe.

A Ring with a Ruby.

A Paire of Gold Spurrs.

A Chalice, and Paten of Gold.

An Ampull for the Oyle and a spoone.

And two Ingotts of Gold, the one a pound and the other a marke for the King’s 2 Offerings.”

Besides these obvious tokens of royalty there were and are a host of minor insignia which take their part in the Coronation ceremony, down to the garments which the King wears next his person. Amongst these appears a shirt of fine linen, to be left open in the place where the Archbishop would anoint the King. The Master of the Great Wardrobe had also to produce “a paire of Trowses, and Breeches over them, with Stockings fastened to the Trowses, all of Crimson Silke”; and amongst other things a pair of linen gloves, which appear very modestly amidst so much splendour.

To supplement these strictly regal emblems the people came forth gladly with offers of plate to replace what had been melted down. As the solitary piece of plate, left no doubt by an oversight by the despoilers, was Queen Elizabeth’s gold salt cellar, which is now in the Tower, much had to be supplied to set the Royal table again on a regal scale. Devonshire, as we have seen, came forth nobly in the cause, the two finest pieces of plate coming from the loyal citizens of Exeter and Plymouth. Exeter presented a State salt cellar, described in a former chapter, and the Borough of Plymouth supplied the wine fountain already described, both well in keeping with the jovial days which wiped out the recollection of the dismal period of the Commonwealth. It is a genial picture to imagine King Charles with his jovial courtiers stemming the tide set loose by the loyal Borough of Plymouth, and taking salt with his almonds out of the Great Salt.

In accordance with the fashion of the age, the plate on a dinner-table appears to have consisted very largely of great salt cellars. These were made of great size, so that besides furnishing a modicum of salt, which was a precious thing in those days, they gave a rich tone to the festive board. In the Jewel House are no less than eleven of these great gold salt cellars, all of which are known as St. George’s Salts, and all of which formed a portion of the Royal Plate of Charles II.

To that popular monarch was also presented a gold christening font, with the hope shared by all his loyal subjects that many children of His Majesty would be christened from it. The fates decided otherwise, but the font remained a Royal font, and many infant princes and princesses were christened in it up to the days of Queen Victoria.

The Regalia seems to have been somewhat hardly used in Charles II’s reign, or Sir Gilbert Talbot, the Keeper, must have much neglected his charge. Doubtless a good deal of damage was done to the State Crown and the Orb, and also to the Sceptre, when Colonel Blood tried to carry them off. Several stones were then lost, we know, but that would not account for the heavy bill which had to be paid when James II came to the throne.

The Crown of England, known as St. Edward’s Crown, which had been new made for Charles II, and should never have left the Jewel House in the Tower until the next King was crowned, had evidently had the valuable stones pilfered out of it and worthless imitations set in their places. To replace these gems appears to have been beyond the finances of James II and his Parliament, for it is on record that the sum of £500 was paid for the _hire_ of jewels for the Coronation ceremony, probably from the Court Jewellers. In addition, £350 was paid for additional gold and workmanship.

Apparently, too, the State Crown of Charles II, which had been battered in by Colonel Blood, was not in serviceable condition, for a new one had to be made at a cost of £7870. Many of the old gems, including the Black Prince’s ruby, were doubtless used, but the bill mentions that it includes fresh jewels. The Crown and Diadem of his Queen, Mary of Modena, are not mentioned in this bill; the cost of these may therefore have been otherwise defrayed, possibly by the King out of his Privy Purse. Both are now in the Jewel House, and the diadem alone is said to have cost £110,000, a very large sum indeed in those days.

A new Sceptre with the Dove was made, richly jewelled, and costing £440; as well as a Sceptre with the Cross, at a cost of £1025. Both of these were probably made for Mary of Modena, and may be seen amongst the present Regalia. St. Edward’s Staff, costing £225, is also charged for, though one had been made for Charles II, and this latter is in the Tower. Also appears in the list one Orb, costing £1150, probably made for Queen Mary of Modena, and now in the Jewel House. A pair of gold spurs, known as St. George’s Spurs, are shown as supplied, the price being £63 7s. 6d. For the bracelets the charge appears to have been £44 18s. 6d., and for a chalice and palten £277 6s. 3d. These latter are not to be found in the Jewel House now.

The bill also includes repairs to the Ampulla, or Eaglet of Gold, and the Anointing Spoon, for which the charge is £102 5s. 0d. for the ampulla, and £2 for the spoon. The total bill for these items comes out to the handsome figure of £12,050 3s. 5d. Whoever made out this bill, and whichever Keeper signed it, must have known that they had a very complacent Treasury to deal with. St. Edward’s Staff, the gold spurs, the gold bracelets, are all charged for, though they had already been made and presumably paid for in the previous reign. The ampulla, too, had been repaired and restored by Sir Robert Vyner only a few years before. All these, which to-day are in the Tower, seem to bear silent witness that somebody was paid twice over.

What James II said to Sir Gilbert Talbot over this, or what reply Sir Gilbert Talbot made to His Majesty, history does not relate. But the whole incident shows how very loosely kept were the Crown Jewels as recently as three hundred years ago. Indeed, to be strictly just, they were never really secure till the reign of Edward VII, and in the intervening centuries a fairly regular disappearance of gems and their replacement with coloured glass seems to have been the rule rather than the exception.

A piece of ecclesiastical plate added to the Royal treasure in the reign of Charles II was the Maundy Dish,[14] from which the Maundy money has since that reign been distributed on Maundy Thursday, the day before Good Friday. William and Mary have inscribed their monogram and crest on the dish, but the plate-mark shows that it belonged to the reign of Charles II.

Two other pieces of church plate which were added by William and Mary are a very handsome alms dish and flagon.[15] These have W.M. for William and Mary, surmounted by a crown embossed on them.

King George V and Queen Mary have added two of the finest and most important additions to the Regalia. These are the Imperial Crown of India and Queen Mary’s State Crown, which have already been fully described.

Thus, though it has taken some centuries to accomplish, the devastation wrought by the Commonwealth on the Regalia has been more than repaired. The Crown Jewels of the King of England are at this time more magnificent and of far greater value than they have been in any former reign—nay more, they are of greater value both historically and intrinsically than the Crown Jewels of any other monarch.