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.