The inside story of Blenheim's gold toilet heist

In the early hours of 14 September 2019, Eleanor Paice jolted awake to the sound of smashing glass.

Living in a staff flat above Blenheim Palace, the guest services supervisor was used to strange noises. But when fire alarms began to blare, she knew something was wrong.

She quickly began evacuating to the great courtyard. But unbeknown to her, she was running straight into the final moments of an audacious heist.

Five men had smashed their way into the palace, ripped out a £4.8m solid gold toilet and fled in a stolen Volkswagen Golf.

The working loo, entitled America, had been on display for just two days at the 18th Century stately home, plumbed in as part of an exhibition by the Italian conceptual artist Maurizio Cattelan.

Now, more than five years on, a total of three men have been convicted in connection to the heist.

James Sheen, 40, from Oxford, pleaded guilty to burglary and transferring criminal property in 2024, while Michael Jones, 39, 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. Bora Guccuk, 41, from west London, was cleared of the same charge.

It was a crime that intrigued art lovers, delighted the press and coined countless potty-themed puns.

Now, the BBC has gained exclusive behind-the-scenes access to staff at Blenheim Palace to understand the heist and security failures from their perspective.

It was the night before, Blenheim chief executive Dominic Hare was at a glamorous exhibition launch party being held at the palace, hosted by Cattelan himself.

It was America's first time on display outside of New York and the artwork's presence was creating a buzz.

He remembers slipping away from the festivities, hoping for a turn on the fully usable toilet. But when confronted with a line, he told himself "that's okay, there's no point queuing. You can come back tomorrow and have a look".

But just a few hours later, his colleague Ms Paice was witnessing the final moments as the 98kg (216lbs) artwork was being heaved into a boot.

She recalls a confusing and fast-moving scene: "It was just shadows and quick movement. I just saw them move towards the car, get in the car….and then the car just sped straight off."

From the burglars entering and exiting the courtyard, the audacious heist had taken just five minutes.

Police arrived shortly after, and it was only when staff searched the palace they realised what had been stolen.

"That was when... I felt my stomach drop," Ms Paice says. "And I thought, this is big."

Soon, the chief executive's phone was buzzing him awake: "Dom, we've been hit."

He said it took him a few moments to realise he was not dreaming before rushing to the palace.

His relief that staff were unharmed then mingled with the horror of a flooded, shattered crime scene.

"If the golden toilet in situ had looked beautiful and perfect and majestic and untainted, this was the total opposite," Mr Hare said. "This was brutalised, smashed up. This is a palace. Palaces don't get smashed up".

When the palace reopened a day later, the controversy was addressed with a theatrical flourish.

Staff re-strung police tape across the shattered cubicle, just metres from the birthplace of Sir Winston Churchill, and exhibited the crime scene as part of the now toilet-less Cattelan show.

Mr Hare said despite his embarrassment, his anger had prompted him to keep it visible but he also realised it could be a draw to the public.

It worked. In the following days Ms Paice said the palace was "slammed", with hordes wanting to glimpse the destruction.

"People were more interested to see where the golden toilet had been stolen from than to come and see the golden toilet itself," she added.

Palace staff say they did see the humour in how the press and public approached the crime, but they were still deeply rattled by the raid.

Ms Paice said Blenheim, a safe and secure home for her, did not feel "settled in the same way" for a long time.

"There was always this anxiousness. If that's happened, anything could happen," she said.

Mr Hare said he felt both emotional and grateful no-one was harmed, calling the burglars the "most dangerous people who'd ever visited Blenheim Palace".

"That toilet survived New York City. And if it survived New York City, it should have survived Blenheim Palace," says Christopher Marinello, an art recovery lawyer brought in by insurers to look at the case.

In his view, Blenheim's security "failed miserably".

What is strikingly clear from interviews with palace staff, the 18-carat gold toilet had not been deemed a security risk.

A month before the burglary, Edward Spencer-Churchill, the 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 no, I don't plan to be guarding it."

Mr Hare said they were "far more worried" about other controversial artworks in the exhibition - a statue of a meteor-struck pope, union flags the public walked on and a statue of a praying Adolf Hitler.

He admitted the toilet's status as a quirky art object had eclipsed the fact it was worth £2.8m in gold alone.

It was left unguarded during closing hours, with no CCTV monitoring the cubicle door.

But the gang exploited other security flaws that night, including no patrols and easily breached gates.

Even after the raid, staff did not immediately realise the toilet had been the target.

Ms Paice says she fleetingly imagined they had come for Churchill's childhood lock of hair, which the palace displays.

In the weeks that followed, Mr Hare was motivated to overhaul security at top speed.

He took full responsibility for the failures that night.

"It's not a democratic decision that we had a certain level of security, it was really mine. In that sense I made Blenheim vulnerable. And we are not vulnerable anymore," he said.

The palace has seen its security overhauled with a "very significant upgrade", while it has also been a wake-up call for other stately homes.

The stolen gold has never been recovered but the story will live on as a quirky footnote in the history of one of Britain's most popular palaces.

"There's big and serious history here, wars which changed the course of history on a continent. Put it against that, it's small fry," Mr Hare remarked.

"[But] in the histories of the normal people of Blenheim, the people who've lived here and breathed life into this place, it was a very threatening moment.

"I can imagine guides in 150 years' time, it's the sort of story they might refer to."