Home › Robberies › Robberies: Toledo
Robberies: Toledo
Cathedral treasures, although no doubt guarded with mundane precautions in addition to the sacred prestige attached to them, have been the frequent objects of robbery at all times. In an interesting letter from Toledo, by Mr. J. C. Robinson, to the Times (Nov. 27th, 1877), we read:-- "The splendid church-plate, jewels, embroidered vestments, etc., preserved in the Cathedral treasury, were formerly the great glory and boast of Toldeo, and were freely and liberally shown. Now, however, they are shut up and entirely withdrawn from public inspection, and I was informed that this resolution was taken in consequence of serious robberies which had occurred within the last few years. It is true that Toledo has been before this sorely tried by estrangero visitors, and a notable exploit of one arch-robber was related to me many years ago on the spot. Marshal Soult (as is well known) collected, modo suo, Spanish pictures, but it is not so generally known that the Napoleonic army numbered another distinguished virtuoso in its ranks. "In the course of my wanderings in the Peninsula, however, I have come upon some frequent memories of the doings of Marshal Junot. He was mad on bric-a-brac, and he had a special predilection for precious stones. Finding himself, on one occasion, at the court of King Joseph, at Madrid, Junot took the opportunity of going to Toledo to see the sights of the place. As may be imagined, everything was freely shown to this master of legions: the splendid jewels of the Cathedral treasury were freely handed to him for his appreciative inspection, and, really, the self-control of this ardent collector seems almost meritorious when it is recorded that he carried away only one little memento of his visit. Among the notable relics of Toledo is the famous gold crown placed on the head of the Virgin on high festivals, radiant with exquisite enamel-work and splendid gems. No royal crown in the world can compare with this truly celestial diadem. The summit was adorned with one priceless gem--an emerald of matchless colour and lustre. After due examination, and not without pointing out, en connoisseur, all the special points of the gem to the little crowd of dignitaries assembled to do him honour, Junot, with the sigh of an ecstatic crocodile, coolly twisted off the gem with his finger and thumb, put it into his waistcoat pocket, and in the very words of the immortal Robert Macaire, simply remarking, 'Ceci doit etre a moi,' took his departure with smiles and salutations. This gem is now replaced by a fac-simile in glass."
The late Duke of Brunswick was a victim of diamond-buying infatuation, and had a collection of them valued at five hundred thousand pounds. He spent his last years in Paris, and such was his fear of being robbed of these objects of worship, that he would not sleep from his house a single night. He resided in a house built more for safety than comfort, and was proof against fire and thieves. It was surrounded by a lofty, thick wall, on the top of which was a chevaux-de-frise, so arranged that when a strange hand was laid on one of the spikes, a bell immediately began ringing. This defence cost the duke no less than two thousand pounds.
The diamonds were kept in a safe let into the wall, and the duke's bed stood before it. Had the safe been attempted forcibly, four guns would be discharged, and kill the burglar on the spot, and with the discharge of the guns was connected the ringing of an alarm bell in every room, to arouse the household. His bedroom had only one small window; the bolt and lock on the door were of the stoutest iron, and could only be opened by a man who knew the secret. A case containing twelve loaded revolvers stood by the side of the bed.
Similar terrors haunted the mind of Governor Pitt, the owner of the magnificent diamond afterwards purchased by the Regent Orleans in France. After his return to England with his precious charge, he used to change his lodgings frequently, and would never give his address for fear of exciting attention. It is stated that he was in a constant state of nervous agitation if any one regarded him particularly.
There is considerable philosophy in the story that Goldsmith tells of a mandarin who took much pride in appearing with a number of jewels on every part of his robe, and who was once accosted by an old sly bonze, who followed him through several streets, and bowing often to the ground, thanked him for his jewels. "What does he mean?" cried the mandarin; "friend, I never gave thee any of my jewels." "No," replied the other, "but you have let me look at them, and that is all the use you can make of them yourself; so there is no difference between us, except that you have the trouble of watching them, and that is an employment I don't much desire."
In the "Insurance Cyclopaedia" (1871--1877), we find, under the head of "Amsterdam," an account of the "Marine Insurance Ordinaire" there promulgated in 1598, curious as containing a form of policy, under which the diamonds and other precious stones sent to Holland to be "cut" were insured against all the risk of transport on land and on water, including robberies and thieves, and all other perils and adventures. This system of insurance is practised at Amsterdam to the present day.