Produced by deaurider, Barry Abrahamsen, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE JEWEL HOUSE
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: THE KING’S STATE CROWN. Reproduced by permission of
Messrs. Cassell & Co., from a painting made by Mr. Cyril Davenport
(Copyright).]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
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 Here
reproduced for the first Time
BY MAJOR-GENERAL
SIR GEORGE YOUNGHUSBAND
K.C.M.G., K.C.I.E., C.B.
KEEPER OF THE JEWEL HOUSE
ILLUSTRATED IN COLOUR, ETC.
HERBERT JENKINS LIMITED
3 YORK STREET ST. JAMES’S
LONDON S.W. 1 ❦ ❦ MCMXXI
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: HERBERT JENKINS’ BOOK]
The Mayflower Press, Plymouth, England. William Brendon & Son Ltd.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE JEWEL HOUSE 11
II. THE REGALIA IN THE TOWER 34
III. THE REGALIA (continued) 50
IV. THE ROYAL PLATE 61
V. THE KING’S ECCLESIASTICAL PLATE 71
VI. THE REGAL EMBLEMS 80
VII. THE GREAT TRAGEDY 91
VIII. THE KEEPERS OF THE JEWEL HOUSE 109
IX. POMP AND CIRCUMSTANCE 127
X. THE ROMANCE OF THE GREAT GEMS 143
XI. THE CRIME OF COLONEL BLOOD 174
XII. THE ORDERS OF CHIVALRY 191
APPENDICES
A. THE KEEPERS OF THE REGALIA FROM 22
1042-1920
B. LETTER FROM QUEEN ANNE BOLEYN TO 24
HENRY VIII
C. COMPLETE LIST OF THE REGALIA IN THE 228
JEWEL HOUSE
D. SIR GILBERT TALBOT’S MSS. 232
INDEX 250
FOOTNOTES 257
------------------------------------------------------------------------
ILLUSTRATIONS
COLOURED PLATES
The King’s State Crown Frontispiece
The Queen’s State Crown 41
The King’s Orb 47
The King’s Royal Sceptre 86
The Jewel House in Queen Elizabeth’s 16
Reign (double page)
The Jewel House in 1815 19
The Jewel House in 1920 22
The Imperial Indian Crown 38
The Diadem of Mary of Modena 40
The King’s Sceptre before and after the 43
Introduction of the Star of Africa
The Jewelled State Sword 83
The Keeper of the Jewel House in his 109
State Robes
Thomas Cromwell, Earl of Essex 116
The Black Prince with the famous Ruby 144
The Duke of Wellington at the first 158
cutting of the Koh-i-Nur Diamond
Portrait of Colonel Blood 174
Colonel Blood stealing the Crown 181
Facsimile of a Page from Sir Gilbert 232
Talbot’s MSS.
Facsimile of a Page from Sir Gilbert 233
Talbot’s MSS.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE JEWEL HOUSE
CHAPTER I
THE JEWEL HOUSE
When kings began to reign—The Crown of the King of the Ammonites—A Crown
weighing 125 lbs.—The Treasure House of Kings—Egbert the first King
of England—His regalia—King Alfred’s Crown—Edward the Confessor’s
Crown and Staff and Ring—The Crown Jewels first placed in
Westminster Abbey—Henry III removes them to the Tower of London—The
Jewel Chamber in the White Tower—The Jewel House in the reign of
Queen Elizabeth—The Martin Tower turned into the Jewel House by
Charles II—The word “Bolleyn” on the wall—Northumberland and Heriot
prisoners there—A slender guard and the result—Colonel Blood fails
in his attempt on the Crown—Northumberland’s ghost—Narrow escape
from fire of the Jewel House—Removal of Crown Jewels to the
Wakefield Tower—Its former history—Origin of name—The murder of
Henry VI in this tower—The young Princes buried in the basement—The
lesson from St. Patrick’s Jewels—King Edward VII makes the Jewels
secure—The tantalized burglar—The German lady and the Kaiser’s
hopes—The Jewels in the Great War—Their narrow escapes—Their removal
till the end of the War—Return to the Tower—Their wonderful
adventures as recorded.
WHEN Kings first began to reign on earth they wore on their heads and
carried in their hands the emblems of royalty. To give them dignity, the
seats they occupied were raised and glorified and became thrones.
Thousands of years ago the crown became the mark of sovereignty, for did
not Saul fight his last battle wearing his crown, and with the bracelet
on his arm? Whilst the prophet Samuel in his book records that the crown
of the King of the Ammonites, taken in battle by King David, was of pure
gold, studded with precious stones. The prophet also commits himself so
far as to add that this crown weighed one talent. Perhaps in this detail
we may make allowance for Eastern hyperbole, a talent being equivalent
to 125 lb., or the weight of two fair-sized portmanteaux. It is not
reasonable to assume that even the most muscular King would with
equanimity thus handicap himself whilst waging war. The throne of
Solomon has become historic, made, we are told, of ivory overlaid with
gold with a lion standing on each side, and twelve lions guarding the
sides of each of the six steps that led up to it. As the value and
number of kingly emblems increased, it became necessary to deposit them
when not in use in a place of security strongly guarded, which came to
be known as the Treasure House of the King. In ancient days it was not
unusual to place the Regalia in some holy place, such as a church or
cathedral, where the sanctity of the building was held to be an
additional safeguard; but more usually it would be kept with the King in
his castle.
Egbert, the first King of England, was crowned nearly eleven hundred
years ago, in A.D. 827, and King George V, the present King of England,
is his direct descendant. The English monarchy is the oldest in Europe,
and the English Royal Family had a longer pedigree than that of any
European potentate, even before the Great War. The kingly emblems in
King Egbert’s days were few and of no great value, probably nothing more
than a crown and a sceptre. The crown of King Alfred was made of gold
wire, and was, when broken up and melted down by the Commonwealth,
valued only at £238 10s. 0d. Edward the Confessor, besides a crown, had
a staff or long sceptre, a replica of which is now amongst the Crown
Jewels. He also had a Coronation ring set with a large and very fine
sapphire, which same sapphire may be seen in the cross paté on top of
King George V’s State Crown.
As the Crown Jewels increased in number and value, the King ceased to
carry them about with him on all occasions, and they were handed over to
the safe keeping of the Abbot and monks of Westminster. In Westminster
Abbey can still be pointed out the Chapel of the Pix, where the regal
emblems were kept. It is not improbable that Edward the Confessor
inaugurated this manner of safeguarding the Regalia when not in use, and
his successors for two hundred years followed his example. But though
Westminster Abbey proved a sure sanctuary against robbers and marauders
from the outer world, unfortunately within the sacred walls were those
inured to sanctity, and who were by no means indisposed to profit in so
obvious and mundane a matter as disposing of the Crown Jewels. Probably
the Treasure Chamber was rarely inspected or visited, and as the monks
themselves were the guardians, inconvenient inquiries might easily be
disposed of, unless and until certain portions of the Regalia were
required for the King’s personal use. It was doubtless some such demand
which led to the discovery that the Treasure Chamber had been broken
into and some of the Regalia had disappeared.
The chief regal emblems, such as the Crown and Sceptre, had been
transferred to the Tower by Henry III, but the lesser yet very valuable
pieces of plate were still at Westminster. The theft was brought home to
a monk named Alexandre de Pershore, who had sold the plate to a
travelling merchant named Richard de Podelicote. As a result the Abbot
Wenlock and forty-eight monks were tried and sentenced to two years’
imprisonment in the Tower. This was in the reign of Edward I, and as a
result the King decided that Westminster Abbey was not altogether a safe
place for any portion of so valuable a collection of plate and jewelry,
and ordered it all to be transferred to the Tower of London. An official
Keeper of the Regalia, whose duty it was to guard and have sole custody
of the Jewels, had already been appointed by Henry III, and henceforth a
divided control ceased.
From that day, some seven hundred years ago, the grey old walls of the
Tower of London have been the outer casing of the casket which has
contained the Crown Jewels of thirty-two Kings and Queens of England.
The Jewels were probably first placed in the White Tower, that being the
central keep of the Tower of London, itself then, and for many centuries
after, the strongest fortress in England. On the north side of the crypt
of St. John’s Chapel, which is in the White Tower, there is a small
chamber with only one entrance and with no windows. This chamber, which
some erroneous person for long marked as the cell of Sir Walter
Raleigh,[1] would in those days have been an ideal place for the safe
storage of the Regalia. It is not only an inner sanctuary, but also it
was guarded without all round by soldiers and by battlements. A monk
might pilfer the plate, but he had to get it past the soldiers and out
of the fortress to profit by his prowess. In this sanctuary, in the
crypt of St. John’s Chapel, the royal emblems and plate may well have
remained for several reigns, and perhaps some centuries, but as the
Regalia increased in quantity these restricted quarters would have been
found too small to conveniently and suitably house them. Thus we find in
an accurate survey of the Tower of London, made in 1597, in the reign of
Queen Elizabeth, that a special Jewel House had been built outside of
and adjoining the south face of the White Tower. This Jewel House was a
long low building with a flat, castellated roof, whilst at the western
end was a tall turret. There were two entrances, one through the turret
and one in the middle of the south wall. The building was evidently one
of two storeys, as two tiers of windows are shown, with two lights on
each floor.
[Illustration: A True and Exact Draught of the TOWER LIBERTIES,
survey in the year 1597 by _GULIELMUS HAIWARD_ and _J. GASCOYNE_.
PLAN OF THE TOWER OF LONDON SHOWING THE JEWEL HOUSE
IN 1597 IN THE REIGN OF QUEEN ELIZABETH (W);
IN 1660 IN THE REIGN OF CHARLES II (I); IN 1920 IN THE REIGN OF GEORGE V
(s)]
The Regalia remained in this Jewel House through the reigns of James I
and Charles I, but with the tragic death of this last unhappy monarch
the need for a Jewel House disappeared, for by orders of the Parliament
all regal emblems were broken up, destroyed, or sold for what they would
fetch. Unused and uncared for, the old Jewel House fell into decay and
disrepair, and became no longer a place of safe keeping. Thus when the
Restoration came and Charles II ascended the throne of his forefathers,
a new Treasure House had to be found. The place fixed upon was the
Martin Tower, which forms the north-east bastion of the inner ballium
wall of the Tower of London. Who Martin was, or why this tower was named
after him, has escaped all researches, but it is of interest to note
that the Middle Tower was at one time called the Martin Tower, and the
inference seems to be that some well-known personage who had long lived
in the Tower of London first occupied quarters in the Middle Tower and
afterwards those in the Martin Tower, and that on his death from long
association his name attached itself to his last residence.
When Charles II came to the throne, all the regal emblems, such as the
Crown, the Sceptre, and the Orb, had to be remade to replace those
destroyed by the Commonwealth, whilst the royal plate had also to be
renewed. Naturally, therefore, it took some time for the Regalia to
arrive at its former excellence and value; during the early years of the
reign it could be easily housed, and was apparently not considered to be
of sufficient importance to be guarded by soldiers. It was thus placed
in the lower floor of the Martin Tower, which in former reigns had been
used more frequently as a place of imprisonment for the more important
or more affluent prisoners. Inscribed on one of the walls inside is the
word “Bolleyn,” which for long was held to be the mark of Queen Anne
Boleyn, and as such held up as proof that the unhappy lady was
imprisoned in the Martin Tower. But a closer examination of the records
of those days shows conclusively that the Queen was never imprisoned in
that particular tower; on the other hand, during this examination it
became sufficiently clear that her brother, George Boleyn, Viscount
Rochford, was probably a prisoner here, and the inscription may very
possibly have been carved by him. Another mark of an old prisoner in the
Martin Tower is the sundial on the south wall, ascribed to Heriot the
astronomer, who together with Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, known
as “Hotspur,” was for long a prisoner here.[2]
The sole guardian of King Charles’ new Crown Jewels in the Martin Tower,
unaided by sentries or yeomen, was an old man named Talbot Edwards, then
nearly eighty years of age, who was Assistant Keeper of the Jewel House
under Sir Gilbert Talbot. Edwards and his family occupied the upper
storeys of the Martin Tower, but Sir Gilbert Talbot lived chiefly at the
Palace at Whitehall, it being one of his duties to reside always in
whichever palace the King happened to be occupying from time to time.
The chamber in which the Jewels were placed was semi-circular in shape
with one door, and with very thick walls. In the outer or thickest wall
was made, or already existed, a recess which, when a cross-wired door
had been added, formed a cupboard, the front of which was open to view.
This arrangement was made not only so that the Jewels might easily be
inspected, but also because it was one of the perquisites of the
Assistant Keeper to show the Crown Jewels to visitors for such fees as
he could inveigle out of them. There were no guards either of soldiers
or yeomen on the Regalia; which fact, becoming known to the notorious
Colonel Blood, that worthy with two accomplices attempted to steal the
Crown Jewels, as is recorded in due course.[3]
[Illustration: THE JEWEL HOUSE BY THE MARTIN TOWER, 1815]
The attempt, though it very nearly succeeded, failed rather through good
fortune than from any wise precaution. It, however, brought to notice
the insecure manner in which the Regalia were kept, much as the theft of
the St. Patrick’s Jewels in Edward VII’s reign drew similar attention,
and it was decided in due course to build a new Jewel House specially
constructed to ensure security. The site chosen was just below the
Martin Tower on its western side, between that tower and the then
existing Armoury. This site was not an ideal one, so that quite early
after its occupation reports were made that the new Jewel House was
liable to be endangered by sparks from the chimneys or furnaces of the
Armoury, which was only a few feet away. A guard of soldiers was now
placed on the building, and yeomen warders were detailed, or hired by
the Assistant Keeper, to aid him in his duties. The guard furnished a
double sentry on this post, which was afterwards reduced to a single
sentry. But this sentry declared that he nightly saw the ghost of the
Earl of Northumberland walking up and down what is now known as
Northumberland’s walk, a narrow beat along the edge of the ramparts
running each side of the Martin Tower. When one sentry had seen the
ghost, others also were ready to declare that they also had seen it, so
that as time went on and the superstition grew, the post became
decidedly unpopular amongst the soldiers, whilst some even refused to go
on it alone. The sentry was therefore again doubled, and the Earl and
his midnight walks faded away into the mists of antiquity.
As illustrating how persons who are determined to see ghosts may succeed
in doing so, this is a very useful incident. This Henry Percy, Earl of
Northumberland, known as “Hotspur” from his fiery temper, who for
thirteen years was imprisoned in the Martin Tower, lived there in ease
and such comfort as wealth could in those days command, and eventually
left under a salute from the great guns of the Tower, a guard of honour,
and an escort to Northumberland House, at the head of what is now
Northumberland Avenue. There was no tragedy whatever about his long
sojourn in the Tower. His father, however, another Henry Percy, Earl of
Northumberland, was without doubt murdered in the Bloody Tower, so that
if the Northumberland ghost had taken his nightly walks about the Bloody
Tower there would have been some sensible connection. Evidently the
ignorant soldiery of the day mixed up the two Earls of Northumberland,
and imagined the wrong one nightly pacing the portion of the ramparts,
which he had probably never even seen in his lifetime, for the Martin
Tower and the Bloody Tower are on opposite sides of the fortress and
quite invisible one from the other.
Another ghost sworn to in the Martin Tower is that of Queen Anne Boleyn.
A worthy warder a century or so ago under sworn testimony gave an
account of how Anne Boleyn had appeared at suppertime, in the form of a
bluish grey column, like smoke in a glass tube. How exactly the Queen
was recognised in this disguise is not stated, but the main point is
that Queen Anne Boleyn was never imprisoned in the Martin Tower. She
went straight to the Lieutenants’ Lodgings and from there to her
execution. As has been already mentioned, however, her brother, George
Boleyn, Viscount Rochford, was undoubtedly a prisoner in the Martin
Tower, and on one of the inner walls is roughly engraved the name
“Bolleyn.” History and records and tradition doubtless became somewhat
mixed as the centuries passed, so that warder after warder, on taking
over these quarters, heard from his predecessor that the engraving had
been made by Queen Anne Boleyn. A bowl of punch, and a lively
imagination, would produce the rest of this ghost story.
Inside the new Jewel House a strong cage was constructed, through the
bars of which by light of dim lanterns the Crown Jewels could be seen at
certain hours by those who had passes, and were prepared to pay a fee
for the same. That the tremors of those who feared danger from fire were
not unfounded eventually proved only too true. In 1843 the Armoury,
which as mentioned was only a few feet from the Jewel House, caught fire
and was burnt to the ground, placing the Crown Jewels in most imminent
peril. That they escaped severe damage, if not destruction, was due to
the great presence of mind, ready resource, and courage of a Sergeant,
who broke into the Jewel House, and aided by yeomen bundled the precious
articles without ceremony out on to the parade ground. Though thus
hastily cast forth, and in spite of the crowd and confusion, nothing was
lost or injured. It would be gratifying to be able to record that the
hero of this adventure received some notable recognition of the service
he had rendered. Truth, however, impels the confession that the deed was
at the time eclipsed by the great tragedy of the burning down of the
ancient Armoury, a building several centuries old with many historic
associations. Later, when this conspicuous service came to light, the
ardour of recompense had grown cold.
[Illustration:THE JEWEL HOUSE IN THE TOWER OF LONDON
_Campbell Gray photo_]
The next, and present, abode of the Crown Jewels became the Wakefield
Tower, one of the lesser towers on the inner ballium wall, adjoining the
Bloody Tower and facing the Traitors’ Gate. The origin of the name has
been a subject of some discussion. For many years, indeed for some
centuries, the Wakefield Tower was held to have been so named because
the prisoners taken at the battle of Wakefield were therein imprisoned.
But further examination shows that this tower was never used as a
prison, nor could it have contained the number of prisoners supposed to
have been incarcerated in it. Moreover, there is some evidence that the
name was given to this tower long before the battle of Wakefield. A more
reliable conclusion is that it was named after William de Wakefield, one
of the King’s Clerks, who was appointed to hold custody of the Exchanges
in the Tower in 1344, and very possibly had his office in part of this
building.
In ancient days the Wakefield Tower, then named the Hall, formed the
entrance to the Royal Palace, which fell into decay during the reign of
Queen Elizabeth. She having been a prisoner in the Tower as a Princess,
had conceived such a horror for the place that when she became Queen she
refused to live there. In previous reigns the King or Queen always lived
in the Tower before their Coronation, and thence proceeded in state,
preceded by the Knights of the Bath, to Westminster. In the Wakefield
Tower is still a small chapel or oratory which was used as a private
place of devotion by the Monarch when in residence at the Palace. In
this little chapel, whilst kneeling at his prayers, Henry VI was
murdered by Richard of Gloucester.
A narrow, winding stair, some of the steps now so worn with age as to be
hardly safe, leads down from the adjacent Bloody Tower to the basement.
Down these steps the bodies of the two young Princes who were murdered
there were dragged, and hastily buried in the basement of the Wakefield
Tower. Here they lay for five days when Richard of Gloucester, by whose
order they had been murdered, made the somewhat superfluous discovery
that the bodies were not buried in consecrated ground. They were hastily
dug up and buried close to the south wall of the White Tower, and being
there more or less under the shadow of St. John’s Chapel, were
considered suitably interred. The Constable of the Tower, Sir Robert
Brackenbury, was the only person who knew the secret, and he died with
it, being shortly afterwards killed at the battle of Bosworth. It was
not till the reign of Charles II that the remains of the two little
Princes were accidentally found, and by order of the King removed to
Westminster and buried there.
The walls of the Wakefield Tower are eight feet thick, and there is only
one entrance, whilst the windows are heavily barred. In these more or
less practical days, however, reliance is not placed solely on solid
walls, or even on sentries and yeomen, to keep the Crown Jewels in
safety. After the St. Patrick’s Jewels had been stolen in Dublin, King
Edward VII determined that the Crown Jewels of England should be placed,
as far as human prescience could devise, beyond the power of anyone to
tamper with them. The most expert mechanical and scientific geniuses,
with Messrs. Chubb at their head, were called into consultation, and the
result was the invention of the present octagonal-shaped steel casement
furnished with steel bars.
It is naturally not allowable to mention what the mechanical safeguards
are, but the inexpert or indeed expert thief may certainly count on
being guillotined or electrocutioned if he makes the attempt to emulate
Colonel Blood’s adventure. It has been a source of some amusement to the
warders to watch known burglars—for admission to view the Crown Jewels
is open to all His Majesty’s subjects, not excluding burglars—with their
faces flattened against the bars thinking, thinking, thinking, how
possibly they could get hold of these priceless gems. One indeed, with a
deep resigned sigh, was heard to mutter, “Gor’ blimy it ain’t to be
done!” So we may hope for the best. Not only, however, are the Crown
Jewels guarded by all the resources of science, but soldiers, yeomen
warders, and policemen keep watch over them night and day.
Just before the War, amongst other visitors was a German lady, who
looked long at the Jewels and carefully examined the steel encasement in
which they are exhibited. Then she went back to one of the yeomen on
duty and remarked, “You may think those Jewels very wonderful and very
wonderfully guarded, but do not be surprised if I say that they will
soon belong to our Kaiser.” The yeoman was so taken aback that he did
not know what to say, yet made perhaps a better reply than much
forethought might have supplied. He said, “I don’t think so, madam. Pass
along, please.” This old yeoman was in the Cameron Highlanders at the
Relief of Lucknow.
During the Great War the Germans in their first daylight raids made a
special target of the Tower of London, clearly marked as it lay below on
the banks of another clear landmark, the Thames. That their efforts to
hit it were not more successful was a matter of bad luck for them and
good for us, for we had then no anti-aircraft guns to drive them off.
The first bomb just missed the Tower to the westward, and fell into the
dry moat in the part used by the garrison as their drill ground. It
penetrated six feet of gravel and rubble, deflecting at a slight angle
as it went downward; then it ran nearly level for four more feet, and
finally turned upwards at an angle and traversed another eighteen
inches. Happily it failed to explode. When with much caution it was dug
out tail first it was found to measure 4-1/2 ft. The top 22 in. formed
an ordinary percussion shell, such as is fired by field artillery; the
rest of the bomb consisted of a brass cylinder filled with a yellow
powder. This powder, though perhaps intended for purely incendiary
purposes, was doubtless intentionally also of a highly poisonous nature.
So poisonous indeed was it that those who touched it were afflicted for
months with a species of blood poisoning, which seriously affected their
health and produced a painful and irritating skin disease. Indeed, one
official was thus affected who had not to his knowledge even touched the
infected portions of one of these bombs; he had merely stood close to
where a wall was plastered with the yellow powder from an exploded bomb,
whilst a strong wind happened to blow grains of it in his face. He came
out with the same eruption, though in a less virulent form than the one
who had actually man-handled a piece of the bomb.
This bomb will probably be found in the Imperial War Museum, but it
seemed to us that the gods intervened to get it there. When the bomb had
been dug out urgent messages arrived by telephone and otherwise that no
one was to meddle with the blamed thing (I am not sure of the exact
wording) till an expert from the Ordnance Department arrived. Arrive he
did, and how he ever departed, except in a ring of smoke and glory,
puzzles us still. He took up the live shell, and directing everybody to
stand well clear, a hundred yards or so away, for fear of accidents, he
proceeded to unscrew the percussion fuze at the head of the bomb. This
in itself is a delicate operation even for an expert. Apparently the
head would not unscrew, but the expert nothing dismayed started
hammering and forcing it in a manner which made mere amateurs tremble
not only for the intrepid expert, but for the ancient walls of the Tower
of London. Finally this philosophic warrior decided that unaided he
could not unscrew the head, so he demanded that a taxi should be sent
for. Into the taxi entered the gallant gunner and the bomb, and
apparently they arrived safely somewhere, for in spite of the
censorship, we should probably have heard if he had not.
The second bomb again just missed the Tower, this time to the eastward.
Most unfortunately, however, it hit the Royal mint, which stands just
across the road. This bomb did the mint, as such, no harm worth
mentioning, nothing to interfere with work being carried on as usual,
but it so happened that it fell close to where a goodly number of
workmen, not actually working at the moment, were assembled, and caused
forty-four casualties. One small boy looking upwards was heard to say,
“Why, it looks like a bird,” and the next second he was himself up and
out in the blue of heaven.
The third bomb hit the railings to the north of the Tower, and whilst
doing no harm whatever to it caused some damage outside. A couple of
horses drawing a van were killed, and many windows in Postern Row were
broken. The effect was very much that of a shrapnel shell bursting,
indeed there probably was a shrapnel fixed at the head of the bomb, as
in the case of the first bomb mentioned. The bullets from this shrapnel
shell had sufficient force to make clean round holes through stout iron
railings, whilst naturally they went through windows and doors as
through paper. Against the flimsiest walls they were of no avail,
leaving only pit marks and knocking off plaster.
The fourth bomb I chanced to see myself. I was sitting at my
writing-desk, which is near one of the south windows of St. Thomas’
Tower, and to be quite exact was writing a note to a lady thanking her
for a book she had kindly sent me. There being a good deal of din in the
skies, though little enough to one who was just back from the War, I
happened to glance out on the river. At that exact moment, only a few
yards away, something from the skies fell splosh into the river, and a
column of water some six or seven feet high demonstrated the fact. That
was the closest shot which the Germans made at the Crown Jewels of
England. The total casualties to the credit of this attack on the Tower
were one pigeon, which probably had a weak heart and died of
shell-shock, and one pane of window broken in the Jewel House.
After these narrow escapes it was decided that it would be wiser not to
chance further risks, and to place the Regalia in a less exposed place
than the Tower of London. Consequently the Jewel House was closed for
repairs, so to speak, and the Crown Jewels were removed elsewhere. The
wonderful stories evolved by the more emotional persons over this
ordinary precaution were not without interest. One inspired person
mentioned, that from certain information he had received a castle in
Cornwall had been secretly acquired and that the Jewels had been taken
there by special train at dead of night. He added that in front of the
Jewel train, and behind it, were two other trains full of troops,
police, detectives, machine-guns, and what not.
Another very astute gentleman had secured the exclusive information,
which he imparted with a knowing smile as between two conspirators, that
for the past eight months a deep and secret vault lined throughout with
concrete had been excavated at Bath, and that the Jewels were now safely
deposited there. The sole ground for this rumour rested on the undoubted
fact that eight months before the Keeper of the Jewel House had been at
Bath, and there, by way of camouflage doubtless had undergone a course
of the waters. Another equally knowing individual, a son of Israel, said
that he knew for certain that the Jewels were in Cumberland, the slender
thread on which this rumour hung being due to the fact that the late
Keeper of the Jewel House, Sir Arthur Wynne, had now settled in
Cumberland. When these stories were told it was incumbent to smile in
rather an embarrassed manner, as one found out in doing a fatuous thing,
and the informants generally departed feeling like an embodiment of
Fouché and Sherlock Holmes. It was only necessary to add, “Please do not
mention your suspicions to anyone, it might get into the papers,” to
ensure that it got anyway as far as the Censor.
But these rumours as to where the Jewels were, and how they got there,
were nothing to the brilliant stories of their return, which an
unfettered, an uncensored press could now make public. One of the more
emotional ran: “At dead of night two officers of the Grenadier Guards
dressed in frock coats and with silk hats, and each carrying an
automatic pistol, drove up to the secret hiding-place in a closed
motor-car. With them were two detectives also in civilian clothes but
with bowler hats; they too were armed with automatic pistols. Beside the
military chauffeur, dressed in khaki sat another soldier with his loaded
rifle at the ‘present.’ In a few seconds the Crown Jewels were
transferred from the secret strong-room to the car by the two officers,
whilst the detectives stood tensely at the alert, their pistols cocked.
In a few minutes all was ready, and the car sharply wheeling on the
gravel drive sped at the rate of forty miles an hour to the Tower of
London.”
Which is all very nice and lurid, but as a matter of fact the whole
process of taking the Jewels away and returning them to the Tower was
much more simply accomplished and was not nearly so dramatic. It is now
no longer a secret that a royal car drove into the Tower of London and
up to the Jewel House. Into it the more important and valuable portions
of the Regalia, already packed in their own cases, were handed. It was
all a matter of a few minutes, and then the car drove away to Windsor
Castle, and there deposited the Jewels in a secure place. The return
journey at the end of the War was equally simply and effectively
accomplished. Nor was there probably any officer of the Grenadier
Guards, with or without a silk hat, nearer than the far dim horizon of
Flanders. Naturally, however, the Crown Jewels do not travel without
very careful precautions, and these, those who trembled for them may be
assured, were fully taken.
During their absence from the Tower some of the cases had somehow got
rather damp and mildewy, the sight of which caused the Court Jewellers
more than a little anguish. This dampness probably accounts for another
brave story, to the effect that the Crown Jewels had been sunk in the
river opposite the Tower, and had in this moist retreat been kept for
many months.
It is remarkable how wonderfully indiscreet some ambitious news
collectors may become. Information regarding the location or movement of
jewels of priceless value may be confided to all and sundry of the
honest folks in these realms, but newspapers are bought not only by
honest persons, and it is of considerable interest to a professional
burglar or jewel thief to be informed exactly how and when he can best
make a bid for so great a prize.
Thus we see that throughout the centuries the Jewels have in turn been
safeguarded first in Westminster Abbey, then in the White Tower, next in
an annexe to the White Tower, after this in the Martin Tower, and then
in a special building close to the Martin Tower. Finally, but for a
brief sojourn at Windsor Castle during the Great War, in the Wakefield
Tower.
------------------------------------------------------------------------