CHAPTER XXIV

ENGLAND, SIXTEENTH CENTURY
(HENRY VIII—ELIZABETH—MARY STUART)

WITH the accession of Henry VIII a new period opens in the history of the jeweller's art. The spirit of the revival, which had previously affected only the Court, began to spread rapidly throughout the community, under the influence of the example set by the great jewellers of Italy. The King inherited an enormous treasury, and the display of jewellery on his own person and on that of his Court was prodigious. We are indebted to the Venetian ambassador, Giustinian, for the following graphic description of the King's personal adornment a year or two after his accession—

"He wore a cap of crimson velvet, in the French fashion, and the brim was looped up all round with lacets and gold enamelled tags.... Very close round his neck he had a gold collar, from which there hung a rough-cut diamond, the size of the largest walnut I ever saw, and to this was suspended a most beautiful and very large round pearl. His mantle was of purple velvet lined with white satin, the sleeves open, with a train more than four Venetian yards long. This mantle was girt in front like a gown, with a thick gold cord, from which there hung large golden acorns like those suspended from a cardinal's hat; over this mantle was a very handsome gold collar, with a pendent St. George entirely of diamonds. Beneath the mantle he wore a pouch of cloth of gold, which covered a dagger; and his fingers were one mass of jewelled rings."[130]

Many a lively and detailed picture has been left us by the chronicler and lawyer, Edward Hall, of the equipage and adornment of Henry VIII on his coronation and at the court entertainments, and particularly of the famous meeting of the Cloth of Gold, where, in their insane desire to outshine each other, the English and French nobles entered into boundless extravagance in dress, and so loaded themselves with jewellery, that, in the words of Du Bellay, "they carried the price of woodland, water-mill, and pasture on their backs." Many are the elaborate descriptions of entertainments and pageants by the chroniclers Leland, Holinshed, and Stowe, in which rich jewellery figures; but Hall's Chronicle, the most minute in its accounts of contemporary fashions, teems with references to "Gold Smithe's woorke" and to the wealth of precious stones broidered on the garments. The passion for personal ornaments ran such riot that even foreign critics inveighed against Englishmen for their extravagance.

This love of jewellery was largely due to foreign fashions, which hitherto discountenanced, were growing popular at Court, in consequence of the increasing communication with the Continent. From the commencement of Henry's reign merchants and craftsmen from abroad swarmed in numbers into London, and Hall, who shared the characteristic English antipathy to all things foreign, gives an instance of an invasion by these alien artificers. It was on the occasion of a magnificent embassy from France in 1518 in connection with the betrothal of the Princess Mary to the Dauphin that there came, he says, "a great number of rascals and pedlars and jewellers, and brought over divers merchantize uncustomed, all under the color of trussery [baggage] of the ambassadors." In accordance with the system of his predecessors in pursuit of their own personal interests, Henry VIII extended his protection to the foreigner, while the example of the French Court, the rivalry with Francis I, and the foreign proclivities of Wolsey and Cromwell induced him to patronise extensively foreign jewellers and merchants in precious stones. Occasionally Henry was a sufferer in his transactions with sharp Italian dealers; and Cellini relates a story of how a Milanese jeweller counterfeited an emerald so cleverly that he managed to palm off the same for a genuine stone on the sovereign of "those beasts of Englishmen," as he elsewhere terms them, for 9000 golden scudi. And all this happened, because the purchaser—who was no less a person than the King of England—put rather more faith in the jeweller than he ought to have done. The fraud was not found out till several years after.

A considerable number of the foreign craftsmen patronised by the King were Italians; but in jewellery the French influence seems to have predominated—judging by the frequent mention of jewels of "Paris work," and by the fact that the majority of the jewellers mentioned in the "King's Book of Payments,"[131] bear French names. Among those of foreign extraction the following were the most prominent: Robert Amadas, John Cryspyn, Allart Ploumyer, Jehan Lange, Cornelius Hays, Baptist Leman, John Cavalcant, John Baptista de Consolavera, Guillim Honyson, Alexander of Brussels, John of Utrecht, and John (Hans) of Antwerp. The mention, however, of such names as John Angell, Morgan Fenwolf (a Welshman), John Freeman, John Twiselton, Thomas Exmewe, Nicolas Worley, John Monday, and William Davy indicates the English nationality of several of the royal jewellers—though it is well to remember the common tendency of the time to Anglicise foreign names.

Throughout the first half of his reign Henry placed huge orders in the hands of these craftsmen, but advancing years and an exhausted treasury appear to have somewhat diminished his expenditure on personal ornaments. Some interesting correspondence between the above-mentioned Jehan Lange, a jeweller of Paris, and certain of his native townsmen has been preserved.[132] "The King," he writes in 1537, referring to certain jewelled garments he had submitted to His Majesty, "was very glad to see such riches. He said he was too old to wear such things, but he has offered 4000 cr." To Allart Ploumyer he writes: "The King always makes good cheer, but he has grown cold, and we have not quite sold everything; for the gentlemen have spent their money in the war." "I find the King," he says in another place, "disinclined to buy, for he has told me he has no more money, and it has cost him a great deal to make war."

In spite of Lange's complaints, it was only just before his death that Henry VIII acquired a famous and magnificent historical jewel, the great pendant of Charles the Bold, last Duke of Burgundy.[133] In its centre was set the wonderful diamond—a deep pyramid five-eighths of an inch square at the base—believed to be the first on which Louis de Berghem tried his newly invented method of cutting. Around it were set three balas rubies, styled from their equality in size and weight the "Three Brothers," which, owing to their fine quality, were set open, without the foil with which stones were then usually backed. Between these were four enormous pearls ([Pl. XXV, 3]). According to the universal custom of his day, the Duke, accompanied by all his treasure when campaigning, carried this jewel with him, partly to have it constantly under his personal supervision, and partly because of the magic properties then attributed to precious stones. Captured by a common soldier from his tent after his memorable defeat at the battle of Granson in 1475, the pendant came into the possession of the magistrates of Berne, and from them was purchased by Jacob Fugger, of the opulent merchant family of Augsburg, whose son, after keeping it for several years, disposed of it to Henry VIII. Fifty years later the jewel was still intact, and in James I's inventory of the crown jewels in 1603, it is thus described:[134] "A fayre Flower,[135] with three greate ballaces, in the myddest a greate pointed dyamonde, and three greate perles fixed, with a fayre greate perle pendaunte, called the Brethren." The last we hear of this famous jewel is in 1623, when it is described in the same words in the list of jewels removed from the Tower by James I, and handed over to his jeweller Heriot to be refashioned for the use of Charles and Buckingham on their visit to Spain. That it was then remounted is evident from the King's letter to his son, in which he says: "I send for your wearing the Three Brethren, that you knowe full well, but newlie sette."