Chambers's journal of popular literature, science, and art, fifth series, No. 116, Vol. III, March 20, 1886

No. 116.—Vol. III.
Price 1½ d.
SATURDAY, MARCH 20, 1886.
The time-honoured ceremony that is still observed when the gates of Her Majesty’s Tower of London are ‘locked-up’ is probably not unfamiliar to the public. What actually occurs, however, can be witnessed by a very limited number of persons who are not resident within the Tower; for a night’s immurement in that celebrated feudal ‘strength’ is essential in order that the proceedings of the ‘escort for the Keys’ may be satisfactorily seen and heard, the verbal portion of the formalities being by no means the least important. But the present writer having frequently been called upon to accompany the Queen’s Keys in their nightly perambulations, has enjoyed opportunities, not open to all, for viewing the curious ceremony of ‘locking-up’ from the best possible vantage-ground. A brief sketch of the somewhat unique details connected with it may perhaps prove interesting to the uninitiated reader.
When not engaged in making their midnight or early-morning progresses, the Queen’s Keys are deposited in the residence of the Deputy Constable of the fortress. Not very remarkable from an architectural point of view, this house stands almost in the shadow of the weather-beaten walls of the White Tower—the famous Norman ‘keep’ that can boast of eight centuries’ authentic history, and around which as a nucleus the various other buildings now collectively known as the ‘Tower’ have from time to time been erected. And the dwelling-place of the Keys overlooks the spot—now inclosed by a railing—where so many political offences, real or imputed, have been expiated on the block. The Keys, when brought forth, are invariably carried by a warder, who is a member of the corps of Yeomen of the Guard, or Beefeaters as they are familiarly called. It may quite fairly be said that the antiquated, but picturesque, costume of these men constitutes one of the ‘sights’ of the Tower; though in recent times the garments have been to a considerable extent shorn of their medieval characteristics. Besides the onerous duty of carrying the Queen’s Keys, the Beefeaters are in other ways employed within the precincts of the Tower; among other things, they exercise—or at least they used to exercise—a sort of supervision over the visitors who flock into it on ‘open’ days. Beyond its gates they take part in certain state ceremonials; and, as is well known, assist in the periodical searching of the vaults underneath the Houses of Parliament, thus materially helping to keep alive the remembrance of Guy Fawkes and the celebrated ‘treason and plot’ in which he was so deeply implicated. That neither the supervision nor the search is wholly unnecessary, has been sufficiently well demonstrated by events of recent occurrence.