Lost Property

Uncle George became the custodian of Lost Property after the coronation.

“After any great gathering together of people, great or humble, there is always a certain amount of debris left behind when they have gone. A coronation in the Abbey is no exception.

Besides the usual pieces of paper and crumpled paper bags, some of the latter still containing the remains of sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs, and other items of refreshment, numerous other miscellaneous objects were found by Gold-Staff Officers and listed so that their rightful owners could have an opportunity of claiming them. They were brought to me to deal with because no one else was willing, and here are some of the more interesting items:

Skull-cap, gold watch, Countess’s coronet, silver ball from a coronet, diamond bracelet, shoe, six pairs of spectacles, trinket box (containing coins), collar stud*, satin purse (containing ten shillings), two spurs, two bottles of pills, eight white gloves, two medals, one small book (Can You Forgive Her by Trollope, found in the South Transept where Peers sat).

Despite public advertisement, only about a quarter of all the things found and listed were claimed by their owners. I kept the remainder for seven years, and those which had not by then been claimed I disposed of, some to deserving persons, the rest, like the solitary shoe, the collar stud and the pills, I consigned to the central-heating furnace in the College of Arms and, out of respect for such venerable relics, I performed the act of cremation myself.

It is curious how people sometimes do not bother about their minor belongings, like spectacles or medals, but the diamond bracelet was claimed at once. There was a hunt, too, for something which was not left behind and listed, but which mysteriously disappeared – the ceremonial oblation, the “wedge or ingot of gold” which is used during the coronation service and about which the Archbishop of Canterbury telephoned me. “Have you got it, Garter? he enquired, not exactly accusingly, but anxiously. I was glad to be able to reply, “not guilty, m’lord” and fortunately it eventually came to light in the Abbey.

If nepotism means employing your friends and relations rather than people you don’t know anything about, then I am wholly in favour of it. Not because it’s nice to have them around you or because you want to do them a good turn, but because you know, or should, if you can absolutely rely on them.

There were several such people, in the guise of Gold-Staff Officers, in the theatre alone. Besides their task of being ushers like the rest of the Gold-Staff Officers, each had special duties which required them to be very much on the alert all the time. And, as well as these trusty people in the theatre, there were others elsewhere. My father-in-law’s efficient butler-valet, Mr White, for instance, who had been with him for very many years, and whom I knew well, stood by in a robing room, fully equipped for repairs and replacements of things which sometimes give way or drop off. He expected no reward, and got none, apart from I think a Coronation Medal and a feeling of being greatly honoured to be allowed to sew an important button back on to a very distinguished pair of breeches, and in situ too.”

(To be continued)

The Hon, Sir George Bellew, KCB, KCVO, KStJ, FSA.

* the collar stud belonged to Lord Emsworth.