CHAPTER VIII
THE KEEPERS OF THE JEWEL HOUSE
One of the most ancient offices under the Crown—The first keepers the Abbot and monks of Westminster, 1042—First official Keeper appointed in 1216 by Henry III—Jewels removed to the Tower—The Bishop of Carlisle as Keeper—John de Flete—Robert de Mildenhall—Thomas Cromwell, Earl of Essex—His romantic rise—A protégé of Cardinal Wolsey—Helps Henry VIII to divorce Katherine of Aragon—And to marry Anne Boleyn—Made Keeper of the Jewel House, 1532—In his portfolio found the famous letter of Anne Boleyn to Henry VIII—Executed on Tower Hill, 1540—The Marquis Winchester—His great rise—Keeper of the Jewels to Edward VI—Hands them to Lady Jane Grey as Queen—Escapes the block and is taken into favour by Queen Mary—Queen Elizabeth also renews these favours—Dies in his bed—Sir Henry Mildmay, Keeper of the Regalia in the reigns of James I, Charles I, and interregnum—Deserts King Charles and joins the Parliamentarians—One of the judges at Charles I’s trial—Grows rich on the proceeds of his office—Dubbed “The Knave of Diamonds”—His flight, capture, and trial—His sentence—His estate confiscated and given to James, Duke of York—His picture after death—Sir Gilbert Talbot appointed by Charles II—His rights and perquisites—Holds the office for thirty years—Sir Francis Lawley—Heneage Montague—Charles Godfrey—Hon. James Brudenell—Lord Lynn—Lord Abergavenny—Lord Glenorchie—Sir Richard Lyttleton—The Earl of Darlington—A break in the ancient office in 1782—Revived in the nineteenth century—Lieut.-Col. Charles Wyndham, who charged with the Scots Greys at Waterloo—Sir Michael Biddulph—Sir Hugh Gough—Sir Robert Low—Sir Arthur Wynne.
ONE of the most ancient offices in the realm is that of Keeper of the Jewel House. His title has varied backwards and forwards during the centuries; at one time and in one reign he has been named the Master and Treasurer of the Jewel House, in another reign or century the Keeper of the Crown Jewels, sometimes he has been entitled the Keeper of the Regalia, and at others, as at present, the Keeper of the Jewel House, but his duties have been always the same, the custody of the Crown Jewels.
In very ancient days, when the emblems of royalty were few and of no great value, it was not necessary to have an officer especially appointed to guard them; the Master of the King’s Wardrobe would take them in charge along with the rich robes that a King wore in those days. So that it is not till 1042 that we hear definitely of anybody being placed in special charge of the King’s Regalia.
The English King who first found it requisite and advisable to place his treasure under special guardianship was Edward the Confessor, and he, being inclined that way, placed it in charge of the Church. It was thus that the Abbot and monks of Westminster became the first Keepers of the Regalia some nine centuries ago. For nearly two hundred years the Abbey of Westminster safely kept its watch and ward, and it was only in 1216, in the reign of Henry III, that the most valuable portions of the Regalia, such as the Crown and Sceptre, were removed to the Tower of London.
The inadvisability in this sinful world of leaving Crown Jewels, intrinsically and historically of great value, only spiritually guarded, was brought into prominence by the theft of certain pieces of Royal plate by the monks in charge. With the removal of the Jewels to the Tower was appointed the first official Keeper. Who he was is not related, but a few years later, under the same monarch, it is clear that the Bishop of Carlisle held the post.
The Bishop was typical of that age, a man of the world, politician, courtier, with an episcopal mitre as an adjunct, or rather as a powerful auxiliary in his dealings with the world in general, and his King and fellow-subjects in particular. There is no record of the Bishop of Carlisle actually heading a charge of cavalry, as did Thomas à Becket in one of his less clerical moments, but he followed the King in his campaigns, whether as a strategical, tactical, political, or spiritual supporter, or whether in all four capacities, careful readers of the history of those days will be able to judge. But whatever his chief rôle or whatever the emoluments of his office, no mean addition came to his purse from the ancient rights and perquisites of the Keeper of the Jewel House.
Amongst the earlier keepers was John de Flete, who held the post in 1337 in the reign of Edward III, and whose pay we learn was twelve pence per diem. Ten years later, also during the reign of Edward III, Robert de Mildenhall was in custody of the Regalia; whilst in 1418 Henry VI appointed Thomas Chitterne. None of these appear to have been men of any mark, but no doubt honest folks of good repute and good family, who could afford to live comfortably on the income derivable, without having other offices attached to it.
In the reign of Henry VIII we find that the highest officers in the State were appointed Keepers of the Regalia in addition to their more important duties. Amongst these was Thomas Cromwell, Earl of Essex, who, from very small beginnings, rose to be the most powerful personage in the State, only second to his sovereign. Son of a man of humble position, who combined the trade of butcher with that of shearer of cloth at Putney, he, after a turbulent youth at home and abroad, returned with empty pockets to the parental roof at the age of twenty-eight. He then married a lady of equally modest position, and settled down as a combined solicitor and shearer, concerning which combination of professions no doubt there passed a fairly obvious if rude jibe. As law and trade prospered, he moved first to Fenchurch Street and then to Austin Friars.
Thomas Cromwell’s rise to fame commenced in 1523 when he became a protégé of Cardinal Wolsey, by whose influence he was returned for a seat in Parliament. He was a useful man, the Cardinal found, with a working knowledge both of the law and of business, whilst undoubtedly he was above the average in ability. Moreover he had the best of manners, acquired not only from his distinguished clients, but from his experiences abroad. This legal knowledge and these persuasive manners the Cardinal first put to useful service in suppressing the small monasteries, so as to secure funds for the endowment of colleges at Oxford and Ipswich. Wolsey was a great man, and the idea was great and good, but unfortunately the desired result had to be attained by the dubious method of violent despoliation. So entirely had Cromwell become agent for the Cardinal, that Anne Boleyn in a letter addresses him as the “Secretary of My Lord.”
For five years Cromwell was the faithful servitor of the Cardinal, and then came the fall of that high potentate, a crash which threatened to bring to earth his follower with him. But Cromwell was an exceedingly clever person, and in the Commons succeeded in most ably defending his patron without offending his opponents or the King. By thus securing for his great patron a comparatively easy downfall, he added greatly to his own prestige. Wolsey escaped banishment or the block by acknowledging his misdeameanours and consenting to hand over the whole of his property to the King. The King in return for this princely endowment, which included Hampton Court much as we now see it, pensioned the great man off as Archbishop of York, in which seclusion he died two years later.
Cromwell had now caught the King’s eye, and he used his legal knowledge and acquired Court experience to climb the ladder, lately so nearly overturned. The King wished much to divorce Katherine of Aragon, and to marry Anne Boleyn, but the Pope stood in the way. Cromwell, the lawyer, suggested that as no legal obstacles stood in the way of the King, who can do no wrong, the simplest way of disposing of the religious difficulties was to deny the supremacy of the Pope in England and to proclaim himself head of the Church in his own land. Henry VIII followed this advice, threw the Pope overboard, divorced Katherine of Aragon, and married Anne Boleyn.
Naturally these great personal services went not unrewarded, first in his appointment as a Privy Councillor, and next as Keeper of the Jewel House, on April 14th, 1532. The latter was one of the substantial benefits which in pay and perquisites made a man rich in those days. His growing wealth and importance clearly pointed to the enlargement of his house and property at Austin Friars. It is curious to learn that what is thought a modern invention, the moving of a whole house on rollers, was employed by Cromwell nearly four centuries ago. A house belonging to a Mr. Stow was deemed to be inconveniently close to the Cromwellian mansion, so it was with or without consent jacked up on to rollers and bodily moved away to a less objectionable propinquity.
His part in securing the divorce of Katherine of Aragon and the succession of Anne Boleyn brought him still further quick and plenteous rewards. In rapid succession he became Lord Chancellor, the King’s Secretary, Master of Rolls, and lastly Vicar-General, so that he might be in a position to enforce the supremacy of his King over the Church. Sir Thomas More, late Chancellor, and Bishop Fisher, fell beneath the axe on Cromwell’s prosecution, their crime being a refusal to acknowledge the King’s spiritual supremacy.
A little later we find Cromwell one of those who on the fatal May 2nd, 1536, escorted the Queen he had helped to make, the hapless Anne Boleyn, to the Tower. And only a few days later we see him seated a witness at her execution. In his portfolio was later found that most pathetic and well-known letter addressed by Anne Boleyn to the King[16] praying for mercy, which letter was never passed on to the King.
For four more years the sun shone on the erstwhile solicitor and shearer, and he became first a Knight of the Garter, then a Baron and Lord Great Chamberlain, and finally Earl of Essex. Great riches and territory too came to him from the suppression of the greater monasteries and the confiscation of their property. But in 1540 the sun set on this phenomenal career, for on June 10th of that year, accused of high treason by the Duke of Norfolk, attainted by Parliament, he passed silently to that same block on Tower Hill to which he had assigned so many.
In the days when great officers of State held the lucrative office of Keeper of the Jewel House in addition to their other benefices was one William Paulet, who later became 1st Marquis of Winchester. Of good birth and a country squire, he was knighted in 1525, and the same year made a Privy Councillor. Shortly after he became a Member of Parliament as Knight of the shire of Hampshire, and also secured the curious appointment of “Surveyor of the King’s widows, and Governor of all idiots and naturals in the King’s hands.” This apparently led by easy degrees to Controller of the Royal Household. In 1536 Sir William Paulet was one of the judges at the trials of Sir Thomas More, and Bishop Fisher, and also of the gentlemen with whom Queen Anne Boleyn was accused of too familiar consort.
A year later the Knight became a Baron, under the title of Lord St. John, and Treasurer of the Royal Household, whilst not long after he became a Knight of the Garter and Lord Chamberlain. When Henry VIII died he was Lord President of the Council, and must have sincerely thanked God that he had so far survived and prospered and had seen the end of that monarch’s reign, with his head still on his shoulders. The Lord President was one of the eighteen executors of Henry VIII’s will, appointed to act as a council of regency during the minority of the boy King, Edward VI. In 1550 St. John sided with the Duke of Northumberland in the overthrow of Somerset, the Lord Protector, and as a result found himself on the winning side with an earldom, that of Wiltshire thrown in. He received also the offices of Lord Treasurer and Keeper of the Jewel House. A year later we find plain William Paulet of a few years ago created Marquis of Winchester.
When Edward VI died, the Marquis, as Keeper of the Jewel House, handed over the Crown Jewels to Lady Jane Grey, and saluted her as Queen. Nine days later, however, he was amongst the Lords who from Barnard’s Castle, which lay on the river-bank close alongside the Tower, proclaimed Queen Mary the rightful sovereign of these realms. Nor did the new Queen resent the late temporary aberration, but took him to her stony heart, and not only confirmed him in all his offices, but added that of Lord Privy Seal. The Marquis was really a wonderful person, for though his next appearance in history is as one of those who conducted the Princess Elizabeth to the dread doom of imprisonment in the Tower, we next discover him, a man well stricken in years, riding through London proclaiming the same princess Queen of England. Nor did Queen Elizabeth at once say, “Off with his head”; on the contrary, she confirmed him in his appointment of Lord Treasurer. Though now upwards of seventy years of age he was made Speaker of the House of Lords, and died in harness in 1572 at the venerable age of eighty-seven. The secret of this long life, apart from physical fitness, was the possession of the gift which perhaps we now call tact. If any proof were needed, it is only necessary to record that a plain squire rose to be a marquis and lived through four reigns during which heads fell as plentifully as apples in an autumn gale, and yet eventually died peacefully in his bed.
One of the best known Keepers of the Crown Jewels is Sir Henry Mildmay, who was appointed to the office in April, 1620, by James I, and retained that office not only through the reign of Charles I, but also through the Commonwealth, and was only dispossessed of it by Charles II on his Restoration in 1660. Besides being Keeper, or as he was termed Master and Treasurer of the Jewel House, Sir Henry was a Member of Parliament for Westbury in Wiltshire, and also at another period for Maldon in Essex. He was a _persona grata_ with James I, and also, it would seem, with Charles I during the first fifteen years of his reign. But Sir Henry then forsook his sovereign and became one of the Committee of the Commons. His defection was considered so important that he was, by the Parliamentarians, continued in his office, in so far as concerned the drawing of the salary and emoluments thereof, though the situation was somewhat grotesque since he was of the party which was in open arms against the King, whose Crown Jewels he was supposed to guard.
Sir Henry was nominated, and sat as one of the judges who tried Charles I, but he with some courage or address escaped signing the death sentence, and afterwards claimed that he only accepted nomination in hopes of saving the King. Throughout the Commonwealth he remained Keeper of the Jewel House, though there were no jewels to guard, for these had been broken up, defaced, destroyed, and sold by the order of Parliament. But being one skilled in the etiquette of courts, he made himself useful as Master of Ceremonies to Foreign Ambassadors, and continued to enjoy the rich perquisites attaining to the office of Keeper of the Jewel House.
For forty years Sir Henry Mildmay had grown fat and prosperous on the proceeds of his office; indeed, he became a very rich man with great estates and much ready cash to spend. But in 1660 Charles II was restored to the throne, and Sir Henry Mildmay was immediately pounced upon to produce the crowns and robes, sceptres, and jewels belonging to the kingly dignity, of which he was the reputed guardian. At the time the general impression was that Sir Henry had appropriated these to his own purposes and sold them to his own advantage; he was in consequence dubbed “the Knave of Diamonds.” As however has since become clear the royal emblems, or such as remained, were disposed of under the orders of Parliament. It may, however, be conjectured that Sir Henry, in accordance with the usages of the age and the rights of his office, secured a goodly percentage on the sale prices. His detractors averred that he had himself valued and bought in the Crown Jewels at the exceedingly low prices they fetched, and at his leisure disposed of them at great profit. There is, however, no recorded proof of this.
But Sir Henry Mildmay, whether he had a guilty conscience or not, thought discretion the better part of valour, and attempted to escape abroad. He was, however, caught by Lord Winchelsea at Rye in Essex and sent back to London. He was tried in 1661 at the Bar of the House of Commons, and sentenced to be degraded from all his honours and titles. Furthermore, he was sentenced to be annually drawn on a hurdle through the streets of London from the Tower to Tyburn, then passed under the gallows, and again dragged back to the Tower. This penalty was to be exacted on each anniversary of the day on which sentence had been passed on Charles I, that is January 27th. Whether Sir Henry ever took this ride is not clear, but probably he did more than once, for it was only in 1664 that the Lords in mitigation ordered him to be transported to Tangiers. On the way to his exile, however, he died at the town of Antwerp. His vast accumulations of wealth were forfeited to the Crown, his estate at Wanstead being of sufficient importance to be assigned to James, Duke of York.
There was a strong rumour at the time that Sir Henry Mildmay had been either hanged or beheaded, which rumour caused his relations and descendants great annoyance. As proof to the contrary they produced a painting of the dead knight, which still exists, showing him lying on his back on his death-bed. The clothes have been drawn down and his neck bared, so as to clearly show that no trace of cord or axe was upon it, and that he died no felon’s death. Naturally a picture of this sort is no proof in a court of law, for the artist might with ease omit all signs of violence; but history bears out the contention that Sir Henry Mildmay died a natural death.
Whatever the merits or demerits of Sir Henry Mildmay may have been, Charles II had too many Royalists with claims on his generosity to retain in office one who had evidently been hand-in-glove with those who had kept the King from his father’s throne, and in exile for so long. Amongst those with such a claim was Sir Gilbert Talbot, who had followed the King’s fortunes in France, and was now back in England in impoverished circumstances. On his application for an appointment the King made him Keeper, or as he was then styled, Master and Treasurer of the Jewel House. We are indebted to a very interesting manuscript dictated in 1680 by Sir Gilbert Talbot for a detailed account of the ancient rights and perquisites belonging to the office. These he obtained from Sir Henry Mildmay, and it is expressly stated that they were the same as enjoyed by Thomas Cromwell, Earl of Essex, in the reign of Henry VIII. Facsimiles of some of the pages of the manuscript are given, but it is of historic interest that they should be recorded in full, and these will be found in the Appendix. Sir Gilbert Talbot held the office for thirty-one years, and as is duly related elsewhere, was in office when Colonel Blood made his attempt to steal the Crown and other portions of the Regalia. Sir Gilbert and his connection with his office enters so much into other parts of this book that it is not necessary here to say more about him.
When Sir Gilbert Talbot died in 1691 the office of Master and Treasurer of the Jewel House fell in succession to persons of various degrees and ranks, of whom little can be gathered from modern books of reference.
Sir Francis Lawley, doubtless an ancestor of the present Lawleys, was next in charge of the Crown Jewels for six years, and was succeeded by Heneage Montague, probably a cadet of the family of Montagu, who a few years later became Duke of Manchester.
Montague was followed by Charles Godfrey, who was Keeper through parts of three reigns, those of William and Mary, Anne, and George I. Then came the Hon. James Brudenell, a son of Lord Brudenell, a title now merged into that of the Marquis of Ailesbury, who held the office for fourteen years during the reigns of George I and George II. The Hon. James Brudenell was succeeded by Charles Townshend, Lord Lynn, who was nine years Keeper in the reign of George II.
The next in succession was William Neville, Lord Abergavenny, an ancestor of the present Marquis of Abergavenny, though the family now spells the name Nevill without the final “e.” This Keeper was in office for six years in the reign of George II.
He was succeeded by John Campbell, Lord Glenorchie,[17] a son of the Earl of Breadalbane, who had custody of the Crown Jewels for eleven years in the reign of George III. Next in succession came Sir Richard Lyttleton, who held sway for thirteen years and through parts of two reigns. Next came Henry Vane, Earl of Darlington, who retained the post for close on twenty years. Whether this nobleman was inefficient, or eventually suffered from senile decay, is not recorded, but evidently a Keeper was deemed a superfluous person, for on his death came a break in the ancient office which had then existed for seven hundred years, and even through so unfavourable a period for Royal offices as the Commonwealth.
When Lord Darlington died in 1782 the office of Keeper of the Regalia was suppressed under an Act of Parliament, known as Stat. 22 Geo. III, c. 82, and his duties were transferred to the Lord Chamberlain. It is reasonable to conjecture that the pay and perquisites also went to the Lord Chamberlain.
For forty years or more the office of Keeper lay dormant, whilst the Lord Chamberlain remained responsible for the safety of the Crown Jewels. It was not indeed till the reign of Queen Victoria that the question arose of the suitability of this arrangement, for naturally the Lord Chamberlain has much else to do, and cannot give his personal guardianship to so great a responsibility. It was the Duke of Wellington, who was then Constable of the Tower, who brought the matter to Her Majesty’s notice, and Queen Victoria thereupon decided to revive the office of Keeper of the Crown Jewels. Appropriately, too, Her Majesty decided that in future this charge should be entrusted to an old and valiant soldier. Her first choice, therefore, was Lieut.-Colonel Charles Wyndham, who had charged with the Scots Greys at the Battle of Waterloo, and is, it is said, one of those portrayed in the famous and historic painting by Lady Butler, known all over the world, “Scotland for Ever.”
No less than seven officers were one after another appointed by Queen Victoria during her long reign, each serving till he died or was promoted elsewhere. Colonel John Cox Gawler, late 73rd Foot, succeeded Colonel Wyndham, and was in his turn succeeded by Captain Arthur John Loftus, late 10th Hussars. Then came Lieut.-General Sir Michael Biddulph, G.C.B., a very distinguished officer who, after a few years as Keeper of the Crown Jewels, was transferred to the House of Lords as Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod, a post he held to his death. Sir Michael Biddulph was succeeded by Lieut.-General Sir Frederick Middleton, K.C.M.G., C.B., known to many previous generations of Gentlemen Cadets as Commandant of the Royal Military College, Sandhurst. The last appointment made by Queen Victoria was that gallant old soldier, General Sir Hugh Gough, one of the great soldier family of Goughs, who had won the Victoria Cross as a subaltern in the Indian Mutiny with Sir Deighton Probyn, Sir John Watson, Sir Charles Gough his brother, and Sir Sam Browne.
King Edward’s only appointment during his short reign was General Sir Robert Low, G.C.B., who ended a long and distinguished career as a soldier by the remarkable military achievement known as the Relief of Chitral, certainly one of the most complete strategical and tactical successes recorded amongst our smaller wars.
The office has twice fallen vacant during the present King’s reign. His Majesty’s first selection, when Sir Robert Low died, was General Sir Arthur Wynne, G.C.B., who had distinguished himself in many a war from the Jowaki Expedition of 1877 and the Afghan War which immediately followed it, down to the South African War of 1899-1901. Sir Arthur retired from the office of Keeper of the Jewel House after five years, and was succeeded by the present holder.[18]