CHAPTER IX

POMP AND CIRCUMSTANCE

The salary of the Keeper £50—His perquisites—Rooms in all the King’s houses—And at the Tower of London—His table provided from the King’s kitchen—Beer, wine, and spirits as seemed good to him—The King’s New Year gift money—Presents from the Ambassadors—Perquisites and privileges—How they were encroached upon—How the King decided—The King and Sergeant Painter—The Court Jeweller’s fee—A breeze with the Queen’s Household—The Keeper and the Crown—The Keeper a Privy Councillor—His official robes—“He hath no superior officer”—Pilfering of the Royal Jewels—The office worth £10,000 a year—The Keeper’s modest salary now—But no fear of the block on Tower Hill.

IN ancient days in England the salaries of dignitaries and holders of offices under the Crown were comparatively small, but the emoluments direct and indirect were often very valuable. Thus the official salary of the Keeper of Jewel House was, up to Tudor and Stuart days, only £50 a year, paid annually in arrears. But since it is manifest that no one could live, however economically, and keep up his position on this nebulous income the kings of those days allowed, what we now think vulgar, that is perquisites. Three hundred years hence, perchance butlers and hall-porters will be as much above the region of subsidiary salaries as is now the Lord Chancellor or the Master of the Horse, and as is, also from reliable information, the Keeper of the Jewel House. In this respect the Keeper of the King’s Treasure in those days fared by no means indifferently, his salary of £50 being a mere bagatelle which might almost have been dispensed with. To start with, apartments were reserved for him in all the King’s palaces, as well as at the Tower of London, for it was his duty to travel with the King wherever he went, and to take with him such articles of the Regalia and Royal plate as the King might have occasion to require. When in London the Keeper would reside in the Royal Palace, whilst his deputy was quartered at the Tower in immediate charge of the Regalia. Thus he lived rent free, though perhaps not always under the most comfortable conditions according to modern ideas, for there were a large number of similar officials in the King’s retinue, and each wrangled with another as to who should have this accommodation or that, and who should have precedence in this minor matter, as in greater.

The Keeper of the Regalia not only lodged free of charge, but also was his table plenteously provided from the King’s kitchen and from the King’s cellar. The allotment of solid refreshment laid down sounds almost immodest, being no less than fourteen “double-dishes” per diem. What a double dish was is not quite clear, but at the Coronation of James II there is a great enumeration of the “singular dishes,” and the diagram of the table shows all these dishes to be round in shape. Presumably, therefore, a double dish was oblong in shape, was twice the size, and held twice as much as a singular dish. And whereas our forefathers thought little of the light viands of these days, we may conclude that the fourteen double dishes held little but solid meats and puddings. Though appetites seem to have been large in those days, there appears to be an ample margin in this allowance for the Keeper not only to feed himself and a moderate following on a fairly liberal scale, but also to entertain his friends. Nor was the allowance of liquid refreshment less liberal; for in this respect we learn that the Keeper was allowed as much beer, wine, and spirits as seemed good unto him, and presumably to his guests.

Apart from these creature comforts more substantial benefits in hard cash accrued to the guardian of the Regalia. His Christmas box was a handsome money present which came out of the King’s New Year gift money. This gift money, which usually amounted to £3000 in gold, was presented to the King by members of the nobility, each according to his quality, and the Keeper received it on behalf of His Majesty for redistribution. Out of this sum he was entitled to keep one shilling in the pound as his own share, and to make what profit he could in distributing the remainder in silver, the ratio between the gold pound and its exchange into silver being a sensible source of profit. It was calculated that this percentage and rate brought in from £300 to £400 every New Year to the Keeper, which we must not forget was equal in value to £3000 to £4000 at this date.

The highest in the land in days of old were not above taking presents, or as we should now vulgarly call them, tips; indeed, these were a recognised source of income. The Earl of Essex, when Keeper of the Regalia in the reign of Henry VIII, saw nothing derogatory in taking presents of money from foreign ambassadors, for it was the custom that he should do so, and it was as much an obligation on the part of those ambassadors to gratify the Earl of Essex as it is in our day to gratify the present Earl of Essex’s butler. The occasion used for this gratifying exchange of courtesies was when the Keeper carried presents from His Majesty to these ambassadors, and these occasions must have been frequent or else the gratifications must have been liberal, for on an average the Keeper counted on making another £300 a year in this way, and again we must multiply that sum by ten to get its present value.

We are indebted to Sir Gilbert Talbot, who was Keeper of the Jewel House in the reign of Charles II, for an exact account of the ancient rights and privileges of his office. These he had received from Sir Henry Mildmay, who was Keeper in the reigns of James I and Charles I, who in his turn passed on what had been enjoyed by Thomas Cromwell, Earl of Essex, Keeper in the reign of Henry VIII.

Sir Gilbert Talbot’s preamble reads:—

“The Master of the Jewel House holdeth his place by Patent, for life, under the Broad Seal of England to enjoy all the perquisites and privileges which any of his predecessors at any time enjoyed.”[19]

These are as follows:—

1. A fee of £50 per annum out of the Exchequer.

2. A Table of 14 double dishes per diem.

3. £300 per annum out of the New Year’s gift money.

4. The carrying of presents to Ambassadors.

5. The small presents at New Year’s tide.

6. Anciently Treasurers of the Chamber which office was a branch of the Jewel House.

7. Frequently Privy Councillors, as were Cromwell and the two Cary’s.

8. Right to buy, keep and present all his Majesty’s Jewels (when given).

9. Choice of his under Officers.

10. Choice of the King’s and Queen’s Goldsmiths and Jewellers.

11. £20 in gold, upon signing of the Goldsmith’s bill.

12. Lodging in all the King’s houses.

13. A close wagon (when the Court moveth) for his own goods; and two carts for his officers.

14. Precedence in Courts and Kingdom.

15. Privilege of the Drawing room.

16. Robes at the Coronation.

17. In Procession place before all Judges.

18. He putteth on, and taketh off the King’s Crown.

19. He keepeth all the Regalia.

20. He hath lodgings, etc., in the Tower.

21. A servant there to keep the Regalia.

22. He hath no superior Officer.

23. He furnisheth plate to Ambassadors and all great Officers.

24. He remandeth it when Ambassadors return; and Officers remove or die.

25. He provideth a Garter and plain George for Knights of the Garter.

Having thus recounted his rights and privileges, Sir Gilbert Talbot in a long petition to King Charles II pointed out how these had been encroached upon through, he avers, the machinations of Hyde, the Lord Chancellor. The first great grievance was that his “14 double dishes” per diem, which we have seen carried in their wake as much bread, beer, and wine as seemed good to the Keeper, were discontinued, and in place thereof he was given a meagre £120 per annum as board wages. This was indeed an economy for the Treasury, for the scale of board wages had formerly been fixed at 35s. per diem on such occasions as the fourteen double dishes, etc., could not on the line of march, for instance, be supplied. 35s. a day came to a matter of £641 per annum, so that the Keeper stood to lose each year on the deal. Naturally this raised his wrath.

In connection with the next item of complaint, Sir Gilbert Talbot did somewhat better. His right of old was £300 out of the money presented to the King by the nobles in accordance with their patents at the New Year. The total sum thus presented was, we have seen, about £3000, so that the Keeper’s percentage was liberal enough; but in addition, though the Keeper received the £3000 on behalf of the King in gold, he was allowed to disburse it to those to whom it was distributed in silver, whereby he calculated to make another shilling in the pound profit, making a total of £450. King Charles, evidently bored with details, and the persistence of Sir Gilbert, compounded for £400 yearly, and that sum became the Keeper’s fixed perquisite under this head.

Then came a very knotty point. Formerly, apparently, the Keeper of the Jewel House received the equivalent of £300 per annum for “carrying presents” to the foreign ambassadors. These presents consisted of plate, and the Keeper not only carried them, but made his percentage out of the goldsmiths on their value, as well as receiving such gratuities or favours as the ambassadors might give him in return compliment. But the Duke of Buckingham having prevailed upon Charles I to make these presents in the form of jewels instead of plate, and the Keeper of the day, who was Sir Henry Mildmay, having incautiously remarked that he knew nothing about the purchase of jewels, this useful addition to his income was taken from him and given to the Lord Chamberlain, who possibly knew no more about jewels, but gladly added this item to his income.

The Keeper of the Jewel House was entitled to twenty-eight ounces of silver-gilt plate every New Year’s Day as part of his emoluments. This he took either in kind or cash, as seemed good to him. Nobody seems to have interfered with this item, but the Lord Chamberlain, Lord Manchester, is in Sir Gilbert Talbot’s bad books over a cognate matter. Apparently certain nobles had yearly, probably as a sort of tribute for their patents, to make small presents of gold to the King on New Year’s Day. These can have consisted of little more than a few coins, for the total amount only came to £30 or £40. Each offering of gold was contained in a purse, and both the gold and the purses were handed on to the Keeper as his perquisite. Lord Manchester claimed these purses, but not the gold, as his own, as did his successor the Earl of St. Albans. But the Keeper complained to the King, and contested this claim: so the King, who was for a pleasant life and as few worries as possible, decided that the purses by ancient right belonged to the Keeper, but that if he was a wise knight he would give five or six of them yearly to the Lord Chamberlain as a peace offering. This accordingly he did, and all parties appear to have been contented.

Anciently the Keeper of the Jewel House was also Treasurer of the Chamber, his title then being Master and Treasurer of the Jewel House. But on the Restoration, with so many faithful but needy Royalists to be provided for, the office was divided, and the Keeper felt this deeply; for apparently the Treasury portion was the richer, indeed it became five times more valuable as a source of income than the Jewel House.

The choice and appointment of his subordinates was, and is, the right of the Keeper of the Jewel House, and the reason for this was somewhat curiously demonstrated. Apparently on one occasion a vacancy having occurred, a certain Sergeant Painter went direct to the King and asked him for the post. Charles II, with his usual good nature, at once consented. Painter armed with this authority came to the Keeper and demanded the appointment. But Sir Gilbert Talbot refused to accept him, and said he would take the King’s orders himself. Going to the King, Sir Gilbert asked whether His Majesty had appointed Sergeant Painter to the vacancy in the Jewel House. The King said he had done so. Sir Gilbert pointed out that by right all such appointments were made by the Keeper, so that he might be sure of the honesty and loyalty of those under him who were guarding the Jewels and plate. “Well,” said the King, “for this time let it pass, and I will invade your right no more.” Sir Gilbert then asked if the King would be security for all the Jewels and plate entrusted to Painter. To which the King replied, “No, indeed will I not; and if that be requisite I recommend him not.” Having made this remonstrance to draw attention to his rights, the Keeper withdrew his objections, and calling up Sergeant Painter appointed him to the post.

One of the handsomest perquisites of the Keeper was the appointing of the Goldsmiths and Jewellers to the King and Queen. These appointments were worth £800 each to him, that being the sum paid him for this privilege by the firms appointed. During the confusion of the Restoration the Keeper nearly lost this valuable addition to his income, for a Groom of the Chambers, named Coronell (Colonel?) Blage, annexed the right and offered the appointment to Alderman Backwell for £800. The Alderman, however, hearing that the right of appointment had heretofore belonged to the Keeper of the Jewel House, drew back and informed the Keeper. That officer at once intervened with such emphasis that “Mr. Blage deserted his pretensions,” and the £800 went to its lawful assignee. The Keeper no longer appoints the Court Jewellers, and nobody gets the £800 for doing so.

The Court Jewellers and Goldsmiths, according to ancient custom, made to the Keeper a present of £20 in gold when he signed their annual bills. This was in the bad old days doubtless a bribe, so that the bill might not be too closely scrutinised. We may also be well assured that the £20 did not come out of the Jeweller’s pocket, but was fully covered by adding a little here and there to each item in the bill. It is refreshing to learn that as early as the seventeenth century, some Keepers recognising the questionable nature of this £20 present, refused absolutely to take it, and checked the bills honestly. Needless to say that at the present day the Keeper is put into no such invidious position; in fact he never sees a bill, all these being discharged by the Lord Chamberlain, who, it is hardly necessary to mention, does not receive a £20 honorarium from Messrs. Gerrard, the Court Jewellers, for doing so.

In the days when the Keeper of the Regalia followed the King wherever he went, rooms were reserved for him, his officers, and his servants, in all the King’s palaces. Then breezes, as might now, arose amongst the various Court officials as to the apportioning of the available accommodation. Thus we find the Keeper recording that, in 1660, the lodgings provided for him at the Palace in Whitehall were rude, dark, and intermixed with those of the Queen’s Household. The dining-room was “a kind of wild barn, without any covering beside rafters and tiles. The Keeper’s lodgings were two ill chambers, above stairs, and the passage to them dark at noon-day.”

Perhaps naturally under these mixed conditions, and tempers being shortened by the rain pouring through the tiles during dinner, the relations between the Keeper, who was a member of the King’s Household, and the members of the Queen’s Household, became colder and colder, till at length each flew to their titular heads. The Queen’s Household no doubt had excellent grounds of complaint, as had also doubtless the Keeper, and thus both were even. But the Keeper, being an astute person, played a final tramp card; he said he could not be responsible for the King’s plate and treasure with so many people in and out who were not under his orders. It was really not safe, he said; it was absolutely essential that he should have the whole set of lodgings to himself. So out went the Queen’s Household, and the Keeper and all his officers were installed in a compact and unassailable mass.

The Keeper of the Jewel House has always been, and is to this day, a member of the Sovereign’s Household. In former times he held certain rights. privileges, and precedence, but these in the course of ages have mostly melted away, though his warrants of appointment have from time to time stated that he was to enjoy all the rights and privileges of his predecessors. For instance, one of the rights, or rather, as we should now style it, one of the duties of the Keeper, was never to let the crown out of his keeping. So definite were his instructions that he had personally to take the crown from the Tower to the King’s Palace, and with his own hand place it on the King’s head. He had then to follow the King wherever he went, say to the opening of Parliament, never allowing the crown to be out of his sight. On the return to the palace he was to take the crown off the King’s head, and return with it to the Tower. This procedure is now much altered. The Keeper of the Jewel House, on demand of the Lord Chamberlain, hands over the crown to him or his representative, takes a receipt for it, and has no further responsibility till the crown is returned to him.

In Tudor days the Keeper of the Jewel House was generally made a Privy Councillor, and if not already of higher rank was created a Knight, and ranked as the senior Knight Bachelor of the Kingdom. At a coronation he wore a robe very like that of a Baron, but with a crown embroidered in gold on his left shoulder. A robe very like this is still the official robe of the Keeper; it is, however, of crimson silk more like that of a Knight Grand Cross of the Bath, with a golden crown embroidered on the left shoulder. The whole costume may be seen in Sir George Naylor’s book of the _Coronation of George IV_.

In precedence the Keeper ranked after Privy Councillors and before all Judges, and had, as at present, the private entrée at all State functions at Court. As late as the seventeenth century none below the rank of Baron, and the Keeper of the Jewel House who ranked as a Baron, were allowed this privilege.

A very curious privilege which the Keeper of the Jewel House still retains is that “he hath no superior Officer in Court or Kingdom.” He receives no orders except from the King himself or conveyed to him through the Lord Chamberlain. The origin of this rule is not far to seek, for otherwise, in less settled days, anybody who was in a position to do so might have ordered the Keeper to hand over portions of the Regalia or Royal Plate. As a safeguard against the Keeper or his officers tampering with the Crown Jewels, it was open to a committee detailed by the Lords of the Treasury to inspect the Regalia at such times as they might think fit. In spite, however, of these precautions there is very conclusive evidence that the regal emblems were constantly being tampered with, valuable stones extracted and coloured glass inserted to replace them. Who committed these abstractions, whether the Keeper himself or whether by the King’s command, is not certain; perhaps more probably the losses were due to the Crown Jewels being insufficiently protected and guarded. As late as the reign of James II we have a record of the new King paying as much as £500 for the _hire_ of Jewels for the day of his Coronation, presumably to replace pieces of coloured glass found in the regal emblems. A somewhat notable instance of this is the large, faceted globe or monde which used to be on the top of the King’s Crown. This was always described as a very valuable aquamarine, and is portrayed on the crowns of several sovereigns. Unhappily, on examination the magnificent aquamarine was found to be of glass, the real stone having been removed in some previous reign and replaced by a worthless imitation. This glass replica, as before mentioned, is shown as a curiosity amongst the Crown Jewels.

To emphasise the position of the Keeper of the Regalia he was frequently made a Privy Councillor, and amongst those specially mentioned as such, are Thomas Cromwell, Earl of Essex, and the two Cary’s, probably father and son, who succeeded each other. Taken as a whole, therefore, it is evident that the office was both in dignity and emoluments a very valuable one, and as such naturally much sought after. It is calculated that, allowing for the difference of value then and now, that about £10,000 a year would be the present equivalent of the Keeper’s pay and emoluments. Both Thomas Cromwell and Sir Henry Mildmay became very rich indeed, whilst Sir Gilbert Talbot died by no means a pauper.

Compared to this brilliant and opulent past the present may seem a less entrancing vista for the Keeper of the Jewel House; but times and customs have changed, and an old officer with £300 a year added to his pension, with snug quarters provided by the King in the Tower of London, finds himself in a more honorable and less precarious position than his ancient predecessors with their bribes and perquisites, but surrounded by jealous enemies, and always with the block on Tower Hill upon the near horizon.