Sir Thomas Chaloner (1559-1615)
Relation: 10th Great Graandfather
Root Family: Spriggs
Early signs
This story of the Chaloner family and Charles I is, beyond first glance, about the very beginnings of the British Empire — the popular revolt of the people and the creation of a commonwealth (albeit bungled), the trial and beheading of a monarch; the rejection of the Catholic Church with its power, wealth and corruption; the willingness to reach beyond Britain to the world at large for new opportunities and ways of doing things. The old order has cracks in its foundation. Change is in the wind.
The Chaloner family have Welsh roots which go back a thousand years to William the Conqueror. Princes and princesses lay in their family tree. Their expansive estate in Guisborough, Yorkshire, was a gift from King James I for the military support Thomas’s father, also Thomas Chaloner, provided in a successful campaign against the Scots. It is one of those ironies of history, I suppose, that the once magnificent Guisborough Cathedral, was built and funded by Robert the Bruce, King of Scotland on the very ground still owned today by the Chaloner family. Odd, as well, that the following happened which found the once-Royalist Chaloners firmly in the anti-Royalist camp.
Young Thomas was well educated and intellectual, and possessed a magnetic, affable personality and a noble bearing which allowed him to move with ease in high circles. He was a favourite of King James I, who paid Thomas a princely sum for overseeing the education of his son, Prince Henry, Prince of Wales. In 1580, aged 21, Thomas began making extended trips to Italy where he socialized with the nobility and with the learned men of the age. On his return, he quickly became a court favourite and married into an influential family.
On one of his trips to Italy, he visited the alum works in the Papal States. Alum was an economically important commodity in the day and Italy not only had high quality alum, it had plenty of it. Alum, short for ‘aluminum,’ was one of several naturally occurring salts. One form commonly used was aluminum sulphate. Alum was employed for preparing leather, for medicinal applications, as a dye fixative in cloth (of huge importance) and, not insignificant for the under-thirties dating crowd of the day, alum served as an under-arm deodorant.
The pope was no fool. He understood market economics. If you own all of something and everybody wants it, you will very quickly become filthy rich. He did — own it all and become filthy rich. At least he thought he owned it all. Thomas had a cousin, also Thomas Chaloner, who was a naturalist and student of geology. Thomas the naturalist had noticed that where alum deposits lie, a particular clay is found and that the leaves of the trees which grow there are discoloured. Now here’s the thing: Thomas the naturalist discovered several instances of this correlation on the Chaloner’s Guisborogh estate. In other words, he had found alum right on the Challoner property. Perhaps it was this naturalist Thomas who suggested that Thomas the courtier make a trip to Italy and visit the Pope’s alum mines. For if they could come up with a way to acquire the method for processing the alum ore, they could break the Pope’s alum monopoly and become wealthy men indeed.
As legend has it, when Sir Thomas visited the alum mine in Italy, he convinced two key mine workers (with hard, cold cash in hand) to hide in barrels and return with him to England where the men would set up an alum processing plant. Back in Yorkshire, When the Pope was informed of the ruse, he was outraged, issued a curse on Thomas and excommunicated him.
Back home, setting up the processing plant had its challenges but in time usable alum flowed out and the money flowed in. Word quickly got around about the success of the Chaloner alum plant. It got all the way back to King Charles I at the opposite end of England. Charles promptly took over the operation and earned a tidy sum for himself and an indelible place in the hearts of the Chaloners. Alas, regrettably for the king and fortuitously for the Chaloners, the king’s timing was bad.
The English Civil War, fought between the Parliamentarians (power to the people) and the Royalists (power held by the monarch) had just ended in favour of the Parliamentarians, headed effectively, by Oliver Cromwell, who, one year later, as head of the military, dismissed Parliament and declared himself absolute ruler. Cromwell was no monarchist. His view was to eliminate the monarchy altogether.
Charles I was charged with treason for taking up arms against his own people and for looking after his own interests at the expense of the nation. On the 20 January, 1643, the case was brought before the high court in Westminster Hall. The occasion was unprecedented. Never before had a king or queen been tried for a serious crime. A large crowd gathered outside the hall, pressed against partitions built to keep a resentful public at bay. Guards were everywhere in number. Lookouts were posted on every rooftop, every surrounding house and cellar searched. It was a scene from a modern-day American Inauguration.
The Sergeant at Arms rode into the Hall on horseback carrying the mace. Behind him rode six trumpeters. The trumpets blared; the onlookers fell silent. History was about to be made: “Hear ye, hear ye, in the case of …”
Charles was seated facing the members of the High Court. His heart must have skipped a beat to see, seated opposite him with other members of the high court, was Thomas Challoner, son of the Thomas Challoner who brought alum to Britain. Unluckily for Charles, the notion of conflict of interest was not a matter for consideration. The trial commenced.
Charles was less than a cooperative accused. Throughout his four appearances before the court, he refused to answer questions, repeatedly stating that the court had no jurisdiction to try him. Despite Charles unwillingness to cooperate, the result was never in question. The high court found in favour of the Parliamentarians. Charles was condemned to death by decapitation. Much to his dismay, he was refused any final words and taken forthwith to the Tower of London. Seven days later, the outcome was announced: “guilty” and the death sentence declared.
Eleven years passed, Cromwell had died by natural causes, the republic had collapsed and King Charles II had been returned from exile in France and placed on the throne. Retribution was in order. The surviving regicides (there were 59 signatories on Charles death warrant) were rounded up and tried. Ten were condemned and executed. Three of the key regicides including Oliver Cromwell were exhumed and their heads placed on poles atop Westminster Hall. Cromwell’s remained there for twenty years. Two of Thomas’s brothers were also regicides. What happened to Thomas? With the Royalists back in the driver’s seat, Thomas became a prime target. He left England for Holland never to return. Alum, however, was in Britain to stay.
The rest of the Chaloner family remained untouched by Charles II, perhaps because of their strong Royalist roots and prior important roles they played on behalf of the crown. Gisborough Hall remains in the family today. It operates as a boutique hotel under the watchful eye of Lord Gisborough.