We now come to the White Tower, with its four turrets, which may be seen from many an eminence that overlooks London, and is always pointed out as “The Tower.” It is to the east of London what Westminster Abbey is to the west, and St. Paul’s to the centre of the city—the great object of attraction. The interior consists of three stories (beside the vaults), the first floor having two rooms, the roofs of which are no doubt as old as the walls that surround them. In ancient times they were used as prisons. The second story also contains two large rooms, in which are deposited arms and other stores; and here also stands the chapel, the most interesting of all the apartments, and shewing how great must be the strength of a building to support such massy pillars and heavy arches on its second story. It is a splendid specimen of true unaltered Norman architecture, and unlike any thing we have seen in London, except the interior of St. Bartholomew, Smithfield; not that it is so beautiful as a whole as the church of the old Priory, but there is a massiness about it in solemn keeping with the heavy and stupendous pile of buildings which it stands upon and overlooks, for it rises to the very roof of the Tower—the remainder of the third story forming the Council Chamber, which is a large, heavy, plain-looking room, and arrests the eye as soon as you enter. It is so unlike the chapel, that you are amazed at its rude and primitive appearance, its flat timber ceiling and plain rows of wooden beams, give to it something of a gigantic, barn-like look; lost, however, when you glance at the pierced walls and side arches, that tell you that all is in keeping with the solemn fortress that has stood the shock of war, and the wear and tear of time, through the long nights of nearly eight centuries. The scenes that have taken place in this vast chamber are written in the pages of English history, and are, with few exceptions, the most important in all our annals.
We will now glance at the Jewel-house, and give a brief description of the chief curiosities and treasures it contains.
The regalia appears to have been kept within the Tower from an early period, as mention is made of jewels deposited there as far back as the days of Henry III. These jewels were often pledged, and were sometimes in the hands of French and Flemish merchants. Henry VI. was the first, we believe, who went to “his uncle” to raise money on them; and Beaufort advanced him 7000 marks with the true pawn-broker-like proviso, that if they were not redeemed by a certain day, they were to remain his (uncle’s) property. Henry VIII., who melted down so many old monastic treasures, lightened the regalia of many a rich relic, and, free-trader like, dispersed it again in the shape of the current coin of the realm. Those who possess the rose-nobles of that period may retain a portion of the crown which once encircled the brow of one of his beautiful wives, whom, Bluebeard-like, he butchered. He thought no more of melting a rich sacramental cup than he did of a broken spoon.
During the civil wars the regalia was again diminished; but to what extent we are not able to state, though mention is made of the sale of such plate as bore the emblems of the cross, or was engraven with “superstitious pictures.” In its present state there will be found worthy of notice the crown known as St. Edward’s, first worn by Charles II., and since that time used by all the monarchs who have ascended the throne of Great Britain. This is the very crown that Blood stole, as we have before stated, and the one placed on the head of her present Majesty when she was crowned in Westminster Abbey. The new crown made purposely for her Majesty is also here, and is formed of purple velvet, hooped with silver, and richly adorned with diamonds. The ruby in it is said to have been worn by the Black Prince, and the sapphire is considered to be of great value: the crown altogether is estimated at above 100,000l.
The Prince of Wales’s crown is formed of pure gold, without much addition of jewels; while that of the Queen’s consort is enriched with pearls, diamonds, and other precious stones. The Queen’s diadem was made for Maria d’Este, the unfortunate queen of James II., who stood sheltering in the rain under the wall of Lambeth Church on the night her husband abdicated, when he threw the great seal into the Thames as he crossed the river at Westminster to join her. Little did she dream, when that golden diadem first pressed her fair brow, of the troubles she was doomed to undergo.
St. Edward’s Staff (why so called we know not, as the gold coronation spoon is believed to be all that remains of the ancient regalia,) is four feet seven inches long, bearing at the top an orb and cross; the orb containing, it is said, a portion of the true cross. This staff is made of beaten gold, to the bottom of which is fixed a steel spike, no
