When you think of the British monarchy, your brain probably jumps straight to the Imperial State Crown. You know the one—the sparkly, purple-capped masterpiece that pops up on every news broadcast during a coronation or the State Opening of Parliament. But if you were standing in Westminster Abbey in 1761, you would have seen something completely different. You’d be looking at the King George III crown, or more specifically, the State Crown he commissioned for his own coronation.
It was massive. It was gaudy. Honestly, it was a bit of a logistical nightmare.
Most people assume the Crown Jewels are these static, ancient objects that have sat in the Tower of London since time immemorial. That’s just not true. Historically, the "State Crown"—the one the monarch wears to actually leave the ceremony—was basically a DIY project for every new king. They’d take the gold frame from the previous guy, rip out all the diamonds and pearls, and put in their own. Or, more often, they’d rent the jewels.
Yeah, you heard that right. For centuries, the British royals were basically the world’s most high-end jewelry renters.
The Weird Reality of the 1761 Coronation
George III didn’t want some hand-me-down. He was young, he was the first of the Hanoverians to actually be born in England and speak English as his first language, and he wanted to look the part. He commissioned a new crown frame that was incredibly delicate for its size.
The King George III crown was a masterpiece of silver and gold, but it was essentially a vehicle for a staggering amount of rented diamonds. At the time, the royal treasury wasn't exactly overflowing with loose gems. So, the King’s jewelers, Thomas Heming and James Gardiner, had to source thousands of diamonds from private merchants.
It cost a fortune just to "borrow" the stones for the day.
We’re talking about a crown that featured nearly 3,000 diamonds. It had the famous Black Prince's Ruby (which is actually a spinel, but let's not get pedantic yet) and the Stuart Sapphire. But the bulk of it was a glittering mass of rented brilliant-cut diamonds that had to be returned immediately after the party was over.
Imagine the stress. You’re the King of England, you’re trying to walk down a long aisle with several pounds of rented jewelry on your head, and if a single stone falls out, you’re basically looking at a national deficit.
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Why the King George III Crown Doesn't Exist Today
If you go to the Tower of London today and ask to see the King George III crown, the guards will probably point you toward a very empty-looking metal skeleton.
That’s all that’s left.
Because the jewels were rented, they were all pried out of the metalwork once George III was done with them. This was the standard operating procedure for the 18th century. A crown wasn't a permanent object; it was more like a stage prop that got repurposed. George IV—George III’s son and a man who loved "extra" more than almost anyone in history—eventually took his father’s crown frame, decided it wasn't fancy enough, and had it stripped down to build his own even more ridiculous version.
The Mystery of the Missing Stones
There’s a common misconception that the diamonds in the current Imperial State Crown are the same ones George III wore. Some are. The "Great" stones—the historical ones like the Cullinan II or the Edward the Confessor’s Sapphire—stay in the family. But those thousands of smaller diamonds? They’ve been scattered to the winds.
They were sold back to jewelers. They ended up in necklaces for Victorian socialites. They were recut into modern shapes.
By the time Queen Victoria came to the throne, she was tired of the "renting" system. It was expensive and, frankly, a bit embarrassing for the world's most powerful empire to be borrowing jewelry. She had a new crown made—the first version of the modern Imperial State Crown—and the monarchy started buying stones to keep permanently. This effectively killed the tradition of the "temporary" crown that George III had used.
The Design: A Departure from Tradition
Technically, the King George III crown was a bit of a rebel.
Before George III, the arches of the English crowns tended to be very flat or even "depressed" in the center. George’s crown pushed the arches upward. It gave the crown a more dome-like, authoritative silhouette. If you look at the famous portrait by Allan Ramsay, you can see the crown sitting on a cushion next to the King.
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It looks solid. It looks heavy. It looks like it could give you a permanent neck injury.
In reality, the frame was so fragile that it survived less than a century of handling. Silver is soft. Gold is heavy. When you keep prying stones in and out of those tiny metal claws (the "prongs"), the metal eventually fatigues and snaps.
What Most People Get Wrong About the "Madness"
There's this popular idea that George III's "madness" led to him destroying the Crown Jewels or doing something erratic with them. That’s pure fiction. While the King did suffer from bouts of severe mental illness (now often attributed to porphyria or bipolar disorder), he was actually quite protective of the regalia.
The "destruction" of his crown was a purely financial and practical decision made by his successors. They wanted to keep up with the fashions of the 1800s, and George III’s 1761 style just looked "old" to them.
Examining the Technical Specs (The Geeky Stuff)
If we look at the records from the Jewel House, the King George III crown was an engineering feat.
- Total Weight: Roughly 2.5 to 3 pounds.
- Gem Count: Estimates suggest 2,800 diamonds, 300 pearls, and several large colored gemstones.
- The Frame: Made primarily of silver (to make the diamonds "pop" and look whiter) with a gold interior lining.
- The Velvet: A deep crimson cap, which signified his status as a secular ruler (unlike the St. Edward’s Crown used for the actual crowning, which is a holy object).
The problem was the weight distribution. Because the arches were so high, the center of gravity was off. George III reportedly complained about the crown slipping during the long ceremonies. You can't exactly reach up and straighten your hat when you're holding a scepter and an orb in front of the entire peerage of Great Britain.
Where to See the Remnants Today
You can actually see the "ghost" of the King George III crown if you know where to look.
The London Museum and the Royal Collection occasionally display the empty frames. Seeing a crown without its jewels is a haunting experience. It looks like a cage. It’s a reminder that the power of the monarchy wasn't in the gold itself, but in the sparkle—the literal "theatre" of the stones.
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If you visit the Martin Tower at the Tower of London, you’ll see the evolution of these frames. You'll notice how George III's design influenced everything that came after. The height, the curve of the arches, the way the "monde" (the little globe on top) sits—all of that started with his 1761 commission.
Why We Should Care About a Crown That Doesn't Exist
It’s easy to dismiss this as just some old hat. But the King George III crown represents the moment the British Monarchy tried to define its modern image.
George III was king during the American Revolution. He was king during the Napoleonic Wars. This crown was the symbol of the state during the most transformative period of Western history. When the American colonists were protesting "taxation without representation," this was the crown they were picturing on the head of their "tyrant."
It wasn't just jewelry. It was a political statement.
The fact that it was made of rented parts is a perfect metaphor for the era. The British Empire was expanding rapidly, but it was often cash-poor and relying on credit, trade, and the appearance of stability to keep things running.
Actionable Insights for History Buffs and Travelers
If you’re planning to dive deeper into the history of the King George III crown or want to see the real deal (or what's left of it), here is how you should actually spend your time:
- Don't just look at the Crown Jewels in the Tower. Most tourists shuffle past the moving walkway and look at the shiny stuff. Stop and look at the exhibit on "Historical Frames." That’s where the real history of George III’s era is hidden.
- Check the Royal Collection Trust online database. They have high-resolution scans of the original 1761 invoices from the jewelers. It lists the exact cost of the diamond rentals, which is mind-blowing when converted to modern currency.
- Visit the Portrait Gallery. Look specifically at the Allan Ramsay coronation portrait. It’s the most accurate representation of how the crown actually looked when it was fully "loaded" with gems.
- Read "The Crown Jewels" by Anna Keay. She’s the former curator at the Tower of London and probably the world's leading expert on why these objects look the way they do. She debunks a lot of the myths about George III’s regalia.
The King George III crown might be a "ghost" now, but its DNA is all over the British ceremony we see today. Every time you see a royal wedding or a coronation, you’re seeing the design choices made by a 22-year-old king back in 1761. He wanted something taller, brighter, and more imposing than anything that came before.
He got his wish. Even if he had to give the diamonds back on Monday morning.
The story of this crown is a reminder that even the most "permanent" symbols of power are often just temporary constructions of gold, silver, and borrowed light. It’s about the image, not the substance. And in that regard, George III was a master of the game.