5 Muses Gold Standard An unexpected early twentieth-century discovery of Elizabethan treasures is now on show in London. Check your bags and check it out. By Paula Weideger THE CHEAPSIDE HOARD. ALL IMAGES MUSEUM OF LONDON
The Cheapside Hoard: London s Lost Jewels Museum of London, October 2013 27 April 2014 COLOMBIAN EMERALD WATCH LIGHT RIPPLES THROUGH IT, BLUE GREEN and translucent as a tropical lagoon. This emerald, mined in Colombia in the sixteenth century, was shipped to Europe, possibly via Bombay (Mumbai today). The much-travelled precious gem was then cut into a small, hexagonal, lidded box. Inside, a cavity was hollowed out to hold an enamelled gold clock. This treasure, the only such clock to survive, is one of the 500 jewels and luxury objects known as the Cheapside Hoard. The stock of a seventeenth-century goldsmith, there were rings set with diamonds, rubies and emeralds; long but dainty enamelled chains; dangling earrings that look like tiny grape clusters of carved amethysts, garnets or emeralds. Among the luxury goods was a pretty, round-bellied opal scent bottle, set with diamonds and rubies, to wear as a pendant. All of this was found by chance one June day in 1912. A rickety building at 30 32 Cheapside in the city of London was being demolished. Workmen broke through the planks of the ground floor and, deep in the cellar, buried in the earth, were 45
the sparkling gems. It is the largest collection of Elizabethan and Jacobean (sixteenth and seventeenth century) jewels and luxury objects in the world. Now, for the first time since its discovery, all of it is on public view. It is a beautiful, fascinating and instructive show. Even men dragged along seem gripped. And why not? The objects have great variety; they dazzle without being bling, and they are evidence of the important trade in precious goods in the expanding economy of Elizabethan London. Curator Hazel Forsyth spent more than two years studying the collection as well as such related documents as leases and account books. Her findings, including more than a little evidence of illegality, appear in London s Lost Jewels. Although the name of the man who buried them remains a mystery, as does his motive, the coat of arms on a tiny, chipped cornelian intaglio enabled Forsyth to date the burial to between 1640 and the Great Fire of London in 1666. The treasure lay undisturbed for at least 250 years. The book is well worth having. My favourite of the many stories she tells follows the fate of the jewels when they were unearthed. Its pivotal character, Stony Jack, may have been a dodgy chap, but he is also the hero of this tale. More about that will come. But first to this terrific show. VISITORS MUST check in bags and briefcases. They enter the exhibition through an oldfashioned, tall, metal turnstile flanked by security guards, among them four Gurkhas. The message is clear: invaluable treasure awaits. And indeed it does, although not immediately. A narrow, dark passage leads past a corny mock-up of what the hoard looked like when found. After that comes a room in which paintings and maps of London as well as a globe are expected to provide context for what follows. There is too little space and material to achieve a goal better accomplished across town at the National Portrait Gallery s concurrent show, Elizabeth I & Her People. Never mind. The fun soon begins, with a recreation of a seventeenth-century goldsmith s shop. (The term was used for those who made jewels and objects of precious metal as well as those who bought and BEJEWELLED SCENT BOTTLE WHITE AND BLUE AGATE CAMEO DEPICTING A WOMAN S HEAD 46
BEJEWELLED NECKLACES AND CHAINS sold it.) The interior wallpaper is a blow-up of a detailed sixteenth-century drawing of such a place. Cleverly, real tools hang next to drawn ones, and real equipment occupies the shop floor. (The Museum has England s biggest collection of goldsmith s tools.) Through the shop s windows, the visitor gets a glimpse of the jewels beyond. Turn a corner, and there they are. They occupy the remainder of the show. Everyone will have his or her own favourites. Mine come right away in the first cases hung with chains. They are artfully displayed to hang freely and be visible front and back. In all there are 30 delicate, jewelled and enamelled long chains, one of them measuring 4 metres. On one, the links are made of diamond-centred tiny white daisies; on another are deep red, jewel-studded geometric shapes. On the walls beyond hang period portraits of women wearing such chains. They might be worn tripled around the neck, or stitched in tiers of swags across the bodice. Although they appear in many paintings of the period, until the hoard was discovered, it was believed that none survived. No others have been found since. They are rare and they are covetable. But then, almost everything is. People don t dash through this show; they pick up magnifying glasses and ogle. A BRASS GILT WATCH WITH MAKER S MARK: G FERLITE BACK IN JUNE 1912, when the navvies saw the jewels caked in earth down in the cellar, they did not report the find to their boss who had the lease to tear down and build anew. They did not report it to the City of London, which claimed the right to any treasure found within its boundaries. Instead, the men crammed their caps and handkerchiefs with booty and took it across the Thames to Stony Jack s bric-a-brac shop. Born George Fabian Lawrence, Stony cunningly visited London s building sites and educated the workmen. Nothing, however seemingly trivial, should be ignored. He would buy whatever they found. You could call this amateur archaeology, but the results destroyed the historical record. Let s forget that for a moment. This time the men arrived with treasure. They knew it, and so did HE. The next day they brought the rest what amounted to 500 pieces. Such a big haul was too much for Stony 47
READ ABOUT George Fabian Lawrence (above), better known as Stony Jack, haunted London building sites in the latenineteenth century. COLOMBIAN EMERALD, DIAMOND AND ENAMEL SALAMANDER BROOCH 48
to handle (might we say fence?). He contacted the three aristocrats he knew were planning to open the London Museum. They bought the lot. Did the navvies know they had no right to the treasure? Did Stony? Did the lords? Very likely yes. The nation had a right to first crack at the treasure trove. The City of London had the right to whatever was found within its boundaries. And, although this was not known until Forsyth s research, the Goldsmith s Company, a guild in existence since the fourteenth century, which owned the site, had a clause in its lease with the firm demolishing the old building and erecting a new one, requiring the handover of anything of value found there. THE LORDS MADE NO announcement of their stupendous new acquisition. Instead they stashed it away for two years until they were ready to open their museum. In 1914 they invited the King and Queen to a private viewing. Their Majesties were delighted as well as surprised. Perhaps not coincidentally, their visit was followed by one from the Crown Treasurer. In a decision that later perplexed many, he gave the lords the right of ownership. This did not prevent an uproar when much of the hoard then went on public view. The public queued, but the institutions bellowed. A settlement was reached: the Guildhall Museum (the City) was given some 100 pieces; the British Museum (in effect the nation) got 25. The Victoria & Albert had five pieces that came from a dealer; the navvies and Stony did not sell everything to the lords. Whether labourers, a dealer/archaeologist/fence or lords, the men who first handled the treasure had a shifty streak. Yet they deserve our thanks. Because of them, the Cheapside Hoard has been preserved intact. It is a key to the past, a source of information about jewellery history and beautiful to look at. For now, all of it is united again at the Museum of London. No wonder there are queues and the book is being reprinted. BYZANTINE AMETHYST CAMEO DEPICTING ST GEORGE AND ST DEMETRIOS, 6TH CENTURY AD BLOODSTONE CARVED INTO THE FORM OF A STRAWBERRY LEAF SHARE 49