I spend more time than is probably acceptable leafing through old eighteenth and nineteenth century antiquarian magazines looking for transcripts of old household accounts and inventories. But late one night I came across something that made me stop and blink. 

In 1880, Queen Victoria commissioned an inventory into her ancient jewels, to be used for ‘Her Majesty’s private information’. The results were published in that year’s edition of Archaeologia, Volume 45, published by the Society of Antiquaries. 

The sparkly collection, stored in the Private Audience Chamber of Windsor Castle, included items passed down by previous royals, as well as items the queen had obtained more recently. 

The men commissioned to complete the inventory, in their dark suits and high-collared shirts, marvelled at the jewels, some of which were as much as two thousand years old. 

Alexander Bassano, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Among the items carefully noted on the inventory was an intaglio impression of a cupid ‘bending his bow’, in red, and set in an oval ring. It was believed to have been made in around 200 BC. There was also a cameo of a Roman emperor wearing a wreath on his head, depicted in profile. This had been in the royal collection for two centuries, previously owned by Charles I before he was king. It was made of agate, and had been broken at one time into eleven pieces but there were clear signs of repair, and was set in a gilt mount. According to an inventory of Charles I’s, ‘this cameo 'was cracked and broken in a former time by the lady Somerset while her husband was Lord Chamberlain’.

Other items included an oval cameo of red and white of ‘a warrior kneeling, with lance over the right shoulder; the Gorgon on his shield’. This piece was dated to around the late third century. Another cameo depicted a female portrait in profile, inventoried as ‘antique Roman work of the third century’. Some of these had been in the collection since the Tudor period, reflecting perhaps the sixteenth-century love of the Renaissance and ‘rebirth’ of classical art, something very much in fashion. This female portrait had been set in the sixteenth century in a gold mount, along with another piece depicting a ‘small figure of a faun or satyr’, dated to the third century, which had a seventeenth century gilt mounting. 

Victoria also owned depictions in rings and pendants of the head of Isis, an Egyptian goddess also worshipped by the ancient Romans; more cameos of male and female busts and one of a lion. Another brings to mind gladiatorial combat, noted as ‘two helmeted heads facing each other, enclosed in a raised rim or border reserved in the blue stratum’, although the helmets were worked in the colour brown. This piece was dated to the third or fourth century. 

Of course, there were some later heirlooms which Victoria might have brought out for a special occasion. An onyx cameo of St George and the Dragon dating to the tenth or eleventh century; a portrait of the medieval French king Louis XII on a ring and a cameo pendant of Elizabeth I. One Italian item created in the sixteenth century was acquired under the queen’s Tudor ancestors and sounds particularly striking. It was noted as a pendant, in enamelled gold and set in a ‘monster pearl, which forms the body of a mermaid. She holds a mirror in the left hand and is dressing her hair with a comb held in the right. The tail is set with rubies on green enamel’. The jewel was suspended by two chains, above which was an ornamental flower, a mother of pearl hanging over the mermaid. Dangling below were three hanging pearls with diamond clasps. 

All these priceless jewels – and many more - survived two thousand years of ownership and ended up in one of Queen Victoria’s cabinets at Windsor in 1880. Many pieces in the collection were clearly diplomatic gifts, like the portrait of Louis XII - while others were picked out by earlier monarchs with a keen eye for a sparkling decoration. Jewels dating to 200 BC were mended and reset in the sixteenth century, demonstrating that care was taken to preserve these items during the English Renaissance. It wasn’t only figures like Isabella de’Este in Mantua who sought out ancient jewellery and artwork for her own collection but also the Tudor and Stuart monarchs, who repaired and safeguarded this jewellery for their descendants. We don’t often think of Queen Victoria as the owner of ancient items of jewellery like these, but her commissioning the inventory towards the end of her reign suggests that she wanted to document them and ensure they would be cared for. A fascinating glimpse into the Victorian Royal Collection. 

You might also like: The Queen of Beauty: Jane Georgiana Seymour, Duchess of Somerset and Is It True that Queen Victoria Hated the Town of Reading? 

Interested in the way Classical works triggered change during the Renaissance? My book, Power Couples of the Renaissance, features relationship dynamics that went against accepted norms of the period and power-hungry couples who ruled, fought and spread the patronage of art, science and culture across the globe during one of the most tumultuous periods of history. Find it on the Pen and Sword Books website. 

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Source: Archaeologia, Society of Antiquities, Volume 45, London. 1880. 

First, this was my first visit to Stow-on-the-Wold. We decided to go for a couple of days to a place we’d never been to, have lunch, explore and come home the next day. Looking at some Cotswold villages, I basically did the digital equivalent of sticking a pin blindly onto a map and booked a hotel in the middle of the village. 

Stow-on-the-Wold in Gloucestershire, as it turns out, is the opposite of the sleepy, rural village I thought we’d be visiting. Walking around the square, we watched as cars pulled up and American, Spanish and Japanese tourists clambered out with bulging suitcases. A lady we got talking to in the bakery was from Uruguay, while a couple we chatted to in the pub were from Spain. A quick trip to St Edwards Church, famous for having likely inspired The Doors of Durin in Lord of the Rings, soon turned into a long queuing session, waiting to take a photo of the ancient doors in between tourists running up and posing with two fingers in a peace sign, with their tongue sticking out. Later in the evening we returned to find the queue gone and took our own photos until an American couple appeared, with the same idea. 

We parked and headed for The Stag, a honey-coloured stone building in the village square, opposite St Edward’s Church. The building today is thought to be mostly Georgian, but parts of it were once a medieval coach house dating to the 1300s. There are two priest holes, too, reminders of Stow’s religious past. As we’d arrived about an hour before check-in we decided to stay for lunch. Both of us had the Fish and Chips and it was hot, beautifully cooked and full of flavour. As I looked around, I saw everything you’d want from an old pub - crooked ceilings and walls, a dimly-lit dining room with comfy cushions and wooden tables. There were even lovely iron (?) candle lanterns on the tables with tea lights burning inside. My husband, undefeated by his generous lunch, decided to have an affogato with a shot of Cotswold Cream (a creamy whisky liqueur a little like Baileys but with more flavour and complexity, less sweet). We’ve bought a bottle to have at home, we loved it so much. 

The staff on the reception desk were happy to look after our overnight bags, so we went on a little walk to explore Stow-on-the-Wold. In many ways, it’s like going back in time. There were lovely little bakeries with plump, crisp pain au chocolats in the window and so many old pubs, including The Porch House, which claims to be the oldest pub in England. The market cross still stands in the village, along with a crooked building which is said to date to the fifteenth century. One of the supporting parts of the foundation was forgotten while it was built, and so now it leans a little to one side. While my husband scoffed at medieval craftsmanship, I pointed out that it was a mark of quality even that it’s still standing and in use more than 500 years later. 

Back to The Stag, we were shown to our room. Beautifully decorated, with its own bathroom and a big king-sized bed. We loved that there was a kettle for tea and a coffee machine in the room but you had to walk down the stairs to the ground floor to collect fresh milk and drinking water from the fridge there. We often get fed up of those plastic UHT milks while we’re travelling and the waste generated for each dribble of milk, so we thought this was a great move. We did come down in the evening and saw that another guest had stored their four-pack of Stella in the fridge, marking their room number in capital letters on the cardboard sleeve in biro. Did we joke about nicking it? Yes. Did we? No.

Yes, there are creaky steps on the stairs and some low ceilings. But it all adds to the charm of this lovely old inn in one of the Cotswolds’ most historic areas. The staff were amazing, the food was gorgeous and they also had a cocktail menu. We loved that they chose not to add to the mountains of little plastic cups that end up in landfill every day and provided chilled drinking water in glass, reusable bottles. Parking was easy, and we could see our car from our room. The inn might have been welcoming guests since the late 1600s, but the building is thought to be medieval. In many ways it’s modern, caring and trendy, with each of its rooms put together by a local designer, and finished with modern art and what the website calls ‘country chic’. But to stay overnight is to enjoy a piece of history of the beautiful village of Stow and follow in the footsteps of those from centuries past. Highly recommend, and we’d definitely come back if we visited again. 

The Stag at Stow didn’t know we would review this, to them we were just a random couple staying over for one night. All opinions are my own. Find out more for yourself: The Stag at Stow, The Market Square, Stow-on-the-Wold, Gloucestershire, GL54 1AF. 

You might also like: The Old Black Bear, Tewkesbury, The Royal Oak, Tilehurst, and Staying Overnight in a Georgian Brewery in Henley-on-Thames.

The Stag stood during an exciting time in our history, the medieval era, the Tudors and the dawn of the Renaissance. Find out more about this period in my book Power Couples of the Renaissance. It features relationship dynamics that went against accepted norms of the period and power-hungry couples who ruled, fought and spread the patronage of art, science and culture across the globe during one of the most tumultuous periods of history. Find it on the Pen and Sword Books website. 

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Agnes Hungerford was the second wife of Sir Edward Hungerford, a courtier during Henry VIII’s early reign. In December 1521 he wrote his will, describing himself as ‘of hole and perfite mynde and of good memory, being sike in body’. Two years later, Agnes would be attainted and hanged at Tyburn for ‘felony and murder’. Had she murdered her husband? Chroniclers John Stowe and the author of the Grey Friar’s Chronicle certainly thought so. Interestingly, Edward’s will was completed, shortly before his death, fully in Agnes’ favour. She would receive all her husband’s personal property and that of the Hungerfords. Sounds like something from a crime documentary. 

However, before she was taken to her execution at Tyburn, an inventory of her belongings was made so that Henry VIII had a record of what was being received into his hands. It is a meticulously detailed inventory, recording various items of plate, wall hangings and items such as spoons, candlesticks, chests and books. Recorded at Farleigh Castle, the couple’s Somerset seat, there was also a long list of clothing and jewels that Agnes would have used. As well as provide details of the lush fabrics worn by a Lady of the Tudor realm, they dispel the idea that everyone wore brown, or dark green or other earthy colours like you see in the films. 

Stunning Tudor gown made by After Elizabeth

Among the ‘parcelles of rayment’ was an item which Agnes had marked ‘longyng to myne awne body… a gown of cremesyn velvet with Frenche sleeves, lined with tyncell and borded with the same’. By this, did Agnes mean that she was wearing this gown during the taking down of the inventory? It seems likely, as all other gowns and clothing items are simply listed below it without any embellishment or explanation. The circumstances of the inventory being made were unhappy, and the image of Agnes showing Henry VIII’s officials around her home while wearing her crimson gown with French sleeves is an intimate, but sad one. 

Agnes also owned a similar gown with French sleeves in russet velvet, and one of black velvet lined with crimson satin. The colours of black and red are something we might consider as belonging more to the later Elizabethan era, but clearly Agnes dressed to impress in the early 1520s. Gowns of ‘tawney chamlet’ are also listed, decorated with fur, and she also owned another black velvet gown, this one with ‘narrowe sleves’ and embellished with a border of black satin, probably at the chest. 

Formerly attributed to Steven van der Meulen, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons Elizabeth I was also a fan of red, white, gold and black

A number of kirtles are listed next, some in satin (black and purple), and another in a ‘popinjay colour’. Whatever it was about this item, something reminded Agnes (or the inventory taker) of a parrot, whether it was a strong blue or red colour. She also had another kirtle of tawney chamlet. 

Sleeves were removable from gowns and could be switched to suit whatever colour of fabric complemented the rest of the outfit. Agnes owned four pairs of sleeves, in crimson tinsel, cloth of gold damask, green tinsel and yellow satin and ten other pairs of sleeves made of ‘fine cameryke’. She also had a quarter of an ell of cloth of gold damask, ready to be made into another piece of clothing perhaps to complement the fancy gold sleeves. Equally, it’s possible that this was the fabric left over from making the sleeves, returned to her by her tailor. 

Along with half a dozen blue ribbons, (one of them a ‘great blue ribbon’), Agnes had six frontlets. Four of them were made with cloth of gold, lined variously with tawny velvet, crimson satin and white satin. One of the frontlets described seems particularly fancy, ‘a frontlet of green satin with a cawl of gold and flat gold underneath’. Another was purely crimson in colour, ‘crimson velvet, lined with crimson satin’. She owned two velvet bonnets, one ‘garnished’ and the other plain. Predictably, Agnes also had a scarlet cloak. She certainly seems to have had a preference for the colour in her clothing choices, and would have stood out during visits to local lands, friends and family and while visiting the royal court. 

If you’re thinking that the contents of Agnes’ clothing chests were impressive, wait until we get to the jewels. Listed is ‘an edge of goldsmith’s work for a past set with pearl’, which weighed nine pounds. She also owned two more ‘edges’ of gold of damask with pearls. It’s possible that these were to adorn the bust of a gown, or the edge of a gable head dress or French hood. She also had a string of pearls with true love knots along with other pearl necklaces. One item may have been a very special gift, ‘a gret flowre of golde, and in the same is a saffier [sapphire], an amytys [amethyst] and a gret pearl’. Also in her collection was ‘a flowre of golde with a saffeir and three perles’. 

The list goes on. More jewels in the shape of flowers, one in gold, ‘full of sparkes of dyamondes set abowte with perles, and the Holy Gost in the mydste of yt’. Another was a tablet of gold depicting St Christopher, patron saint of travellers, suggesting that Agnes embarked on longer trips while on household business. There were other, more romantic ones. A heart made of gold, enamelled with white and blue; ‘a great brooch of gold with a man and a woman in him, the value £4’, and buttons of gold with hearts enamelled on the surface. There were more buttons with E&A marked on them, her and her husband's initials. On her fingers Agnes wore gold rings, one of them containing an emerald with four diamonds. 

Agnes was confronted with a tragic end to her story, but the records that the event left behind give us valuable information on how a lady of wealth dazzled when seen by tenants, courtiers and even royalty. There are blues, golds, blacks, whites and a lot of crimson red in textiles such as velvet, satin and damask. She sparkled in diamonds, rubies, pearls, emeralds and gold, proving that appearance conveyed power and influence in the Tudor era, just as in many ways, it can today. 

You might also like: Dressing Up As a Tudor Lady with After Elizabeth, The Return of Medieval Fashion and A New Look at Henry VIII's Wives.

Interested in Tudor history? You might also like my second book, Power Couples of the Tudor Era, published by Pen and Sword Books, which explores the contributions couples made to their own times as well as how they influenced our own. Order your copy here. 

The Tudors are famous for creative expression, art and the theatre during their reigns. But the English Renaissance started a lot earlier than 1485. Find out more in my book Power Couples of the Renaissance. It features relationship dynamics that went against accepted norms of the period and power-hungry couples who ruled, fought and spread the patronage of art, science and culture across the globe during one of the most tumultuous periods of history. Find it on the Pen and Sword Books website. 

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Source: “Inventory of the Goods of Dame Agnes Hungerford, attainted of murder 14 Hen VIII; with Remarks thereon by John Gough Nichols, and the Rev. John Edward Jackson”. In Archaeologia, Volume 38, 1860, p353-372