The inside story of Blenheim's gold toilet heist

2025-03-19 02:47:00

Abstract: In 2019, a £4.8M gold toilet ("America") was stolen from Blenheim Palace. Three people were sentenced. Security was upgraded after the brazen theft.

In the early hours of September 14, 2019, Blenheim Palace employee Eleanor Pace was awakened by the sound of breaking glass. As a guest services supervisor, she was accustomed to various strange noises, but when the fire alarm sounded, she realized something was seriously wrong. This unexpected event was the start of a memorable experience for everyone at the palace.

She quickly began evacuating to the Great Court, unaware that she was heading towards the culmination of a daring theft. Five men had broken into the palace, stolen a solid gold toilet worth £4.8 million, and fled the scene in a stolen Volkswagen Golf. The brazen act shocked the staff and left them reeling.

The functional toilet, titled "America," was part of an exhibition by Italian conceptual artist Maurizio Cattelan and had been on display at the 18th-century estate for two days. More than five years have passed, and a total of three people have been sentenced in connection with the theft. The impact of this event continues to resonate within the art world.

James Sheen, 40, from Oxford, admitted to burglary and transferring criminal property in 2024, while Michael Jones, 39, also from Oxford, was found guilty of burglary at Oxford Crown Court on Tuesday. Fred Doe, 36, from Windsor, was convicted of conspiracy to transfer criminal property, and Bora Guccuk, 41, from West London, was acquitted. The legal proceedings have been complex and closely followed.

The case has captured the interest of art enthusiasts and the media alike, spawning countless toilet-related puns. Now, the BBC has gained exclusive behind-the-scenes access to Blenheim Palace staff to learn about their perspectives on the theft and security breaches. This access provides a unique insight into the human side of the story.

The night before the theft, Blenheim Palace CEO Dominic Hare attended a grand exhibition opening party at the palace, with Cattelan himself in attendance. It was "America's" first showing outside of New York, and the artwork's presence caused quite a stir. Hare recalled slipping away from the celebrations, hoping to experience the fully functional toilet. But upon seeing the queue, he told himself, "It's alright, no need to queue. I'll see it tomorrow." He decided to postpone his visit for another time.

However, just hours later, his colleague Ms. Pace witnessed the final moments of the 98-kilogram artwork being loaded into a trunk. She recalled a chaotic and rapid scene: "There were shadows and fast movements everywhere. I just saw them going towards the car, getting in... and then the car sped off." From the moment the thieves entered and left the courtyard, the audacious theft took only five minutes. The speed and precision of the operation were astonishing.

Police arrived quickly, but it was only when staff searched the palace that they realized what had been stolen. "That's when... I felt a churning in my stomach," Ms. Pace said. "I thought, this is big." Soon, the CEO's phone rang, waking him up: "Dom, we've been raided." He said it took him a moment to realize he wasn't dreaming before rushing to the palace. He was both relieved that the staff were unharmed and shocked by the flooded and chaotic crime scene. The reality of the situation quickly set in.

Mr. Hare said, "If the golden toilet in situ looked beautiful, perfect, dignified, and pristine, the opposite was now true. It had been vandalized, smashed up. This is a palace. Palaces shouldn't be smashed up." The next day, when the palace reopened, it addressed the controversy in a dramatic way. Staff re-roped the smashed cubicle, just meters from Sir Winston Churchill's birthplace, and presented the crime scene as part of the now toilet-less Cattelan exhibition. This creative response turned a negative situation into an opportunity.

Mr. Hare said that while he felt embarrassed, his anger spurred him to remain visible, but he also realized this might attract the public. And it did. In the following days, Ms. Pace said the palace was "rammed" with people wanting to see the scene of the damage. "People were more interested in seeing where the golden toilet had been stolen from than seeing the golden toilet itself," she added. The public's fascination with the aftermath was undeniable.

Palace staff say they did see the humor in how the media and public treated the crime, but they remain deeply disturbed by the attack. Ms. Pace said that Blenheim Palace had been her safe and secure home, but for a long time, she felt "it wasn't quite the same." "There's always an anxiety. If this could happen, anything could happen," she said. The sense of security had been shattered.

Mr. Hare said he felt both thrilled and relieved that no one was hurt, calling the thieves "the most dangerous people ever to visit Blenheim Palace." "That toilet survived in New York City. If it survived in New York City, it should have survived at Blenheim Palace," said Christopher Marinello, an art recovery lawyer hired by the insurance company. In his view, Blenheim Palace's security was "a complete failure." He emphasized the need for improved security measures.

It's clear from interviews with palace staff that the 18-carat gold toilet was not considered a security risk. A month before the theft, Edward Spencer-Churchill, founder of the Blenheim Art Foundation, told The Sunday Times: "It's not going to be the easiest thing to nick. Firstly, it's plumbed in, and secondly, a potential thief will have no idea who last used the toilet or what they ate. So, I'm not planning on guarding it." This underestimation proved to be a costly mistake.

Mr. Hare said they were "more worried" about other controversial artworks in the exhibition – a statue of the Pope struck by a meteorite, a Union Jack flag for the public to tread on, and a statue of a praying Adolf Hitler. He admitted that the toilet's status as a quirky artwork obscured the fact that it was worth £2.8 million in gold alone. It was left unguarded during closing hours, and there was no CCTV monitoring the cubicle door. The lack of adequate security made it an easy target.

But the gang exploited other security lapses that night, including a lack of patrols and easily breached gates. Even after the attack, staff didn't immediately realize the toilet was the target. Ms. Pace said she briefly imagined they were there to steal a lock of Churchill's hair from his childhood, which is on display at the palace. The initial confusion added to the chaos of the situation.

In the weeks that followed, Mr. Hare acted quickly to overhaul security. He takes full responsibility for the failures of that night. "That we had a degree of security was not a democratic decision, it was actually my decision. In that sense, I made Blenheim Palace vulnerable. And we are no longer vulnerable," he said. He was determined to prevent future incidents.

The palace's security has undergone "very significant upgrades," and it has also served as a wake-up call for other estates. The stolen gold has never been recovered, but the story will live on as a bizarre footnote in the history of one of Britain's best-loved palaces. "There is major, serious history here, wars that changed the course of continental history. Compared to that, this is a small thing," Mr. Hare commented. Despite the seriousness of the crime, it pales in comparison to the historical significance of the palace.

"But in the history of ordinary people at Blenheim Palace, the people who live here and give the place its life, it's a very threatening moment. I can imagine tour guides in 150 years' time, they may well mention this story." Since the attack, the palace's security has been completely overhauled. The legacy of the golden toilet theft will likely endure for generations to come.