CHAPTER IV

THE ROYAL PLATE

Plate for the Royal table—Plate for the King’s Chapel—Trumpets and

maces—Queen Elizabeth’s gold salt cellar—Escapes the

Commonwealth—The design of the salt cellar—The State salt of Charles

II—Presented by the City of Exeter—A jewelled castle armed with

golden guns—Charles II’s wine fountain—Presented by the Borough of

Plymouth—The finest specimen of plate in the Jewel House—Not only

ornamental, but useful to His Majesty—The ordeal of the lady on

top—The eleven St. George’s Salts—Curious history of a set of four—A

correspondence that lasted ninety-two years—The ordeal of the

serpents—St. George on the canopy of the great salts—The salt

spoons—Two golden tankards—To be viewed from a discreet distance—The

silver trumpets—Used at Coronations—And when Peace is

Proclaimed—Crimson and gold bannerets—The Archbishop’s old time

exhortation—The maces of the sergeants-at-arms—Charles II, James II,

William and Mary, George I—The mace originally a bludgeon—The crown

at head of it the insignia of Royal authority—The policeman’s

truncheon a miniature mace—The maces at the Proclamation of

Peace—The mace-bearers originally a corps of knights—Bodyguard of

the King.

THE Royal Plate in the Jewel House may be roughly divided into two main

categories, the one being plate for the Royal table and dignity, and the

other ecclesiastical plate for use at Coronations or at services in one

of His Majesty’s Chapels Royal. The table plate consists mostly of large

gold salt cellars, known as Salts of State, whilst the kingly dignity is

represented by the great gold maces borne by the sergeants-at-arms, and

the silver trumpets which sound a fanfare when the king is crowned.

The oldest piece of table plate in the Jewel House is Queen Elizabeth’s

gold salt cellar. How this escaped the depredations of the Commonwealth,

or how it avoided being melted down with other Royal plate, to meet the

necessities of Charles I, history does not relate. Very possibly it was

sold in those days, and preserved by the purchaser through the troublous

times, and then either given back, or sold back, to the Crown on the

Restoration.

The salt cellar, which is a very fine specimen of Elizabethan work,

stands about a foot in height; at the top is a shallow pan in which the

salt was placed, over which is a gold canopy supported on brackets. The

object of canopies such as this apparently was to keep the larger and

more obtrusive pieces of dirt and dust from the rough rafters overhead,

from falling into the salt. Salt was a precious thing in those days, and

as carefully to be protected as would _pâté de foie gras_ in these

times. On top of the canopy stands a knight in armour holding a long

two-handed sword and a shield. He also is manifestly guarding the salt

from theft and danger.

With the exception of this one piece, none of the gold table plate in

the Jewel House dates further back than the reign of Charles II, and

this for good and sufficient reasons, as we have seen. To renew the

Royal Plate at the Restoration several contributions were made, and the

chiefest of these by the loyal county of Devon. The city of Exeter

presented His Majesty with a magnificent golden State salt cellar,

fashioned like a castle; and the Borough of Plymouth came forward with

one of the handsomest pieces of gold plate in existence, a beautiful

wine fountain.

The State salt cellar stands nearly two feet high, and is a most

elaborate and beautifully worked out representation of a square castle

prepared for defence as it would be in medieval days. At each corner are

turrets for flank defence, and cannons and guns bristle from every wall.

On the top is a cupolo shaped like a Royal crown, and under this may be

seen exquisitely fashioned field-guns on wheels. The castle is adorned

throughout with precious stones, one specially large sapphire being

observable above the portcullis at the front entrance. Some historians

think it was intended to represent the White Tower, which is the keep of

the Tower of London, but as many castles in those days were more or less

of this design, and amongst them Exeter Castle, it seems more probable

that the design was taken from that city.

The tops of the four turrets as well as the crown left off and disclosed

shallow pans or saucers each capable of holding a small quantity of

precious salt. There are also small troughs under the windows also

intended each to hold a little salt. Probably nobody but the King and

Queen and three or four distinguished guests seated near were intended

to take salt from the State salt cellar, its place being in the centre

of the great banqueting table exactly opposite the King.

The wine fountain, besides being an exceedingly fine example of the

goldsmith’s art, must have been a very acceptable and appropriate

present for the jovial King to receive. The fountain stands two and a

half feet high, the central figure being a lady very lightly clad,

holding a snake by the neck. Below the lady are two tiers of shallow

receptacles shaped like shells and ornamented with mermaids, dolphins,

and sea nymphs. The lower, and larger tier, measures 28 in. in diameter.

When in use the fountain could be made to play as does a water-fountain

in the garden. The procedure would be to place a barrel of wine in the

gallery: from this a pipe would run which could be fixed to the hollow

at the base of the fountain. When the tap was turned on the wine would

run up inside the lady and out presumedly through the serpent’s mouth.

The height of spray would depend on the height of the barrel above the

table. The wine as it fell in spray would drip down the lady, which

impending deluge doubtless accounts for her lack of garments; thence it

would flow into the tier of smaller receptacles. As these filled up they

would overflow into the larger receptacles below, and when these in

their turn were filled to overflowing, the only way to prevent a flood,

and a devastating waste of good wine, was for the company to

continuously dip their beakers into them and thus stem the tide by

steadily drinking the contents.

There are eleven other great gold salt cellars amongst the Royal plate

at the Tower dating from the reign of Charles II, which used to help in

decorating the tables at Coronation banquets. These are all known as St.

George’s Salts and are of several patterns.

A curious story attaches to one set of four of these salt cellars. They

are cylindrical in shape, rather like a deep drum, and embossed with

sprays of leaves and flowers in high relief. At the top are three

brackets curving outwards fashioned as serpents. When the Royal plate

was being overhauled for the Coronation of George IV, some bright expert

decided that the brackets were not brackets, but legs, and turned the

salts over and stood them on these. He was then faced by an aching void

which would hold a couple of pounds of salt, for the cylinders are

hollow. Naught dismayed, he had shallow gold pans to hold salt made to

fit the cylinders, and on these were engraved the Royal arms and the

words “George IV.” Thus upside down the salts remained for ninety-two

years, the serpents standing on their heads, and the herbaceous

ornamentation drooping sadly. During those ninety-two years an animated

correspondence appears to have been carried on as to which end upwards

the salts should rightly stand, and it was only in the time of the

present Keeper of the Jewel House that the serpents, doubtless to their

relief, were allowed again to hold up their heads, and the golden

flowers and foliage were condemned no longer to droop. The real mission

in life of these brackets, as has been re-discovered in this post-bellum

age, is to support a napkin which was spread over them so as to protect

the salt from dust and dirt.

All the rest of the St. George’s Salts have a permanent golden canopy

over them very similar to that which covers Queen Elizabeth’s salt

cellar. On top of the canopy in each case is a knight in armour, in some

cases mounted, in others on foot. The knight is probably meant for St.

George, in some cases mounted before killing the dragon, and in others

dismounted and at rest, after having accomplished that historic feat.

Appertaining to the great salt cellars there remain a residue of twelve

gold salt spoons, the missing numbers no doubt having been lost, or

annexed by excessively loyal guests.

Two very handsome gold tankards are in the Jewel House, which were added

to the Royal plate by George IV. Viewed from a discreet distance the

effect is very fine, but a closer inspection is not recommended to those

who disapprove of realism in art. Queen Victoria, it is reported,

disliked these flagons intensely.

The silver trumpets and gold maces are placed in the Jewel House as part

of the Royal Treasure. There were originally sixteen silver trumpets,

but one disappeared in a bygone reign and has never been recovered, so

that fifteen only remain. They are the ordinary shape of a cavalry

trumpet, and are used not only at the King’s Coronation, but also when

proclamations are made by the Heralds in the King’s name. They were thus

used, for instance, when the Heralds rode to various parts of London and

proclaimed the Peace at the end of the Great War, in 1919. Pendent from

each trumpet is a crimson silk banneret richly embroidered in gold,

displaying the Royal arms with the cypher of the reigning monarch. At

the Coronation of the sovereign the trumpeters blow a fanfare on these

silver trumpets, the ritual for which in the old world wording of the

Coronation service is thus given:

“The Archbishop of Canterbury speaks thus to the people: ‘Sirs, I

here present unto you King George, the undoubted King of this realm:

wherefore all you who are come this day to do your homage, are you

willing to do the same?’ The people signify their willingness by

loud and repeated exclamations, all with one voice crying out ‘God

save King George.’”

Then the trumpets sound a fanfare.

Of gold maces there are eight in number at the Tower. The oldest of

these are two made for Charles II; there are two also which date from

the reign of James II, whilst three were supplied for William and Mary,

and one for George I. They are all of very similar pattern. A mace was

originally a weapon used by cavalry soldiers, and many and various

patterns of these may be seen in the Armoury in the White Tower. It was,

in fact, a bludgeon with a short handle and a heavy head, sufficiently

heavy to beat in the steel helmets worn in those days. The ceremonial

mace has, instead of a battle-head, a crown, and this crown is to denote

the delegation of the Royal authority. The Sergeant-at-arms carrying the

mace before the Speaker, and placing it on rests before him in the House

of Commons, thus conveys the Royal Assent to the assembly. In the same

way mayors of towns have crowned maces borne before with the same

intention. When policemen, or peelers as they were then called, were

first incorporated, they were served out with truncheons which were

miniature maces with a Royal crown at the head of each. These crowns,

however, were not very practical weapons with which to knock a burglar

on the head; indeed, they generally broke off, which was an untoward

catastrophe, so they were discontinued. Those who were in the streets of

London when the Peace proclamation was made at the close of the Great

War, will have noticed that sergeants-at-arms bearing their maces

accompanied the heralds and trumpeters, thus signifying that the whole

ceremony was with the King’s authority.

At the coronation of a sovereign the sergeants-at-arms, whose number

seems to have varied in the course of centuries, carry their maces and

form part of the procession. Originally the mace-bearers were a corps of

twenty-four knights, or gentlemen of high degree, who formed a sort of

bodyguard to the King, and thus they were in the reign of Richard Cœur

de Lion. As late as the reign of Charles II the sergeants-at-arms

bearing their maces are shown mounted on horses. At the present day a

sergeant-at-arms walks and carries his mace, no mean weight, as those

who have seen them stagger after a long day may well imagine.

Thirty-four pounds do they each weigh.

We have now accounted for all the secular plate in the Tower pertaining

to royalty, and proceed to describe the ecclesiastical plate used at the

coronations of our monarchs, or on certain occasions during their

reigns, either at Westminster, or at St. Peter ad Vincula, a Royal

chapel within the Tower.

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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 · 第 4 / 12 章