And two Ingotts of Gold, the one a pound and the other a marke for the King’s 2 Offerings.” Besides these obvious tokens of royalty there were and are a host of minor insignia which take their part in the Coronation ceremony, down to the garments which the King wears next his person. Amongst these appears a shirt of fine linen, to be left open in the place where the Archbishop would anoint the King. The Master of the Great Wardrobe had also to produce “a paire of Trowses, and Breeches over them, with Stockings fastened to the Trowses, all of Crimson Silke”; and amongst other things a pair of linen gloves, which appear very modestly amidst so much splendour. To supplement these strictly regal emblems the people came forth gladly with offers of plate to replace what had been melted down. As the solitary piece of plate, left no doubt by an oversight by the despoilers, was Queen Elizabeth’s gold salt cellar, which is now in the Tower, much had to be supplied to set the Royal table again on a regal scale. Devonshire, as we have seen, came forth nobly in the cause, the two finest pieces of plate coming from the loyal citizens of Exeter and Plymouth. Exeter presented a State salt cellar, described in a former chapter, and the Borough of Plymouth supplied the wine fountain already described, both well in keeping with the jovial days which wiped out the recollection of the dismal period of the Commonwealth. It is a genial picture to imagine King Charles with his jovial courtiers stemming the tide set loose by the loyal Borough of Plymouth, and taking salt with his almonds out of the Great Salt. In accordance with the fashion of the age, the plate on a dinner-table appears to have consisted very largely of great salt cellars. These were made of great size, so that besides furnishing a modicum of salt, which was a precious thing in those days, they gave a rich tone to the festive board. In the Jewel House are no less than eleven of these great gold salt cellars, all of which are known as St. George’s Salts, and all of which formed a portion of the Royal Plate of Charles II. To that popular monarch was also presented a gold christening font, with the hope shared by all his loyal subjects that many children of His Majesty would be christened from it. The fates decided otherwise, but the font remained a Royal font, and many infant princes and princesses were christened in it up to the days of Queen Victoria. The Regalia seems to have been somewhat hardly used in Charles II’s reign, or Sir Gilbert Talbot, the Keeper, must have much neglected his charge. Doubtless a good deal of damage was done to the State Crown and the Orb, and also to the Sceptre, when Colonel Blood tried to carry them off. Several stones were then lost, we know, but that would not account for the heavy bill which had to be paid when James II came to the throne.