Recent Royal Resources and Revelations

Now is the time of year that the Royal Household publishes its financial reports detailing the use of the Sovereign Grant and other money sources. It is a chance for the public to look at “The Firm” as a business, and likewise for The Firm to advocate for itself on that basis. Obviously these are aimed at a higher reading level than most of the Palace’s announcements.

Earlier this year there was an additional publication: A report by the National Audit Office on the arrangements for Crown Estate properties which members of the family and their staff occupy. This was prompted mainly by the surrender of the Royal Lodge by the former Prince Andrew.

I have read through the majority of these documents (though the full Sovereign Grant Report, at 161 pages, may not be completed for some time). I will not comment on the majority of their contents as they are dense with financial jargon, but will highlight a couple of interesting revelations.

Working Royals

The definition of “working royal”, meaning one who carries out public duties on behalf of the sovereign, has sometimes been contested. This year’s documents appear to offer a canonical list of who currently counts. Page 35 of the NAO report says

3.10 In addition to The King and Queen, there are nine working members of the Royal family supporting the duties of the Sovereign: The Prince and Princess of Wales, The Duke and Duchess of Gloucester, The Duke of Kent, The Princess Royal, The Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh and Princess Alexandra.

This exact line is repeated in the Palace’s own financial report (page 3). This is obviously a rather smaller list than we would have seen a decade ago, due to several members from that time having died or withdrawn from duties (whether voluntarily or not) without anyone yet arriving to replace them.

The same page in the NAO report, as well as a few other sections, define four people as being outside the firm:

Princess Beatrice Princess Eugenie and The Prince and Princess Michael of Kent

The report repeatedly refers to “The Prince and Princess Michael of Kent”, giving them the definite article (with capital T, no less) normally reserved for royals in the first generation of descent from a monarch.

Sir Timothy Laurence is not mentioned in these documents even though, despite his lack of royal style or title, he definitely is on the duty roster. The status of the Duke of Edinburgh’s children and His Majesty’s grandchildren is also left unresolved.

(At this point I will take the opportunity to plug the work of Canadian journalist Patricia Treble, who has written in detail several times about the looming demographic crisis for the working royals. She noted in a post from April this year that contrary to official reports she considers Alexandra “effectively retired” due to the rarity of her appearances in the last few years.)

Buckingham Palace

Much of the word-count of the recent literature concerns the major refurbishment works on this residence, which had fallen into a dangerous state of disrepair by the early 2010s.

Over the last decade there have been multiple updates in formal documents, as well as the royal YouTube channel, about the work being done to overhaul the palace’s systems, structures and services.

Although it is now a prominent British icon — to the extent that “the Palace” is frequently used as the principal metonym for the entire institution of the monarchy — the physical structure has often been a source of problems. Histories of the late Georgian and early Victorian period will often point out that the construction ran well over budget requiring the replacement of the architect, and that the finished product was riddled with faults including sewer overflow, smoke accumulation and rat infestation. This was a recurrent theme in the first season of ITV’s Victoria series, and also got a sketch on Horrible Histories.

There were several renovations over the next century (including to repair bomb damage after the Second World War) which fixed some problems but not all. By the time of Elizabeth II’s Diamond Jubilee there were news stories about windows losing too much heat, plastic buckets to catch leaks, and blocks of masonry nearly killing people when they fell to the ground.

Even aside from its structural shortcomings, a lot of monarchs simply didn’t like living there: William IV, who reluctantly inherited the unfinished work from his elder brother, preferred to stay at his own custom-built residence at Clarence House (so-called because he was Duke of Clarence at the time). Victoria was initially excited to move in, but later in her reign would leave it abandoned for most of the year in favour of Osborne and Windsor.

Towards the end of George VI’s reign Philip Mountbatten & The Princess Elizabeth made their home at Clarence House as Duke & Duchess of Edinburgh. Following the latter’s accession to the throne they were reluctant to move to Buckingham Palace, only doing so because Sir Winston Churchill insisted it was the only proper place for the reigning monarch to live. It is speculated by historians that the royal couple at the time only gave way because they were relatively young and inexperienced on the throne whereas Churchill was very elderly and had achieved a near-divine status in the public mind, whereas by the end of the reign that dynamic had more than reversed. We can’t know for sure, but it feels a mightily-convenient coincidence that this announcement has been made at a time when the party in government is having a leadership contest, meaning that the incumbent is a caretaker who, in terms of effective political authority, may as well not exist.

Drawing of Clarence House from 1874.

Late in Elizabeth’s reign Clarence House became the official residence for Prince Charles’s own household, and there were reports that both he and his mother wished to shift the emphasis of the monarchy away from Buckingham Palace, perhaps even abandoning it as a residence altogether, and make Windsor Castle the principal royal residence. In Elizabeth II’s last few years events conspired in favour of this: In 2017 Prince Philip formally retired from royal duties and, while his wife continued at Buck House, he moved to Wood Farm on the Sandringham estate (where his middle son now lives). In 2020 when the pandemic hit and lockdown was imposed, they both moved to Windsor and had their “bubble” headquartered there. Over that year and the next the Castle was host to Philip’s funeral and a visit by President Biden after a G7 summit. Trooping the Colour, scaled down due to social distancing requirements, was also relocated there on both years. In early 2022 as the pandemic abated it was announced that Elizabeth would not move back to London, instead keeping Windsor as her main home and merely commuting when necessary.

On Charles’s accession he and Camilla had been living at Clarence House for nearly two decades. Although “Clarence House” as an organisation (a metonym for their separate household as Prince of Wales & Duchess of Cornwall) was formally dissolved at that point and merged with that at Buckingham Palace, the ongoing renovation works gave the couple an excuse not to actually move in. For over three years now Their Majesties have used Buckingham as the workplace for their constitutional and public functions as King & Queen, but kept Clarence House as their main London home. It also continues to be the venue for their private social functions as well as gatherings related to the charities and businesses they established there during the prior reign. At the end of 2024 the building works reached the state rooms, so that the next run of state visits (so far France, United States, Germany and Nigeria) were all redirected to Windsor as well.

Now that the restoration work is nearing completion, a long-term decision needs to be made. This week it was announced to reporters at a press briefing that Their Majesties will continue their current arrangements indefinitely, with no plans ever to move. This effectively makes official what has already quietly been the case for the past six years: Buck House is the monarch’s residence no longer. Prince William seems likely to follow suit here: The Prince & Princess of Wales have long had their official residence at Kensington Palace (which is also the metonym for their household), but where they and their children actually live has varied. Late last year the family moved into Forest Lodge, Windsor, and described it as their “forever home”.

This change may feel momentous, but royal residences have come and gone over the centuries: Westminster, Whitehall, Hampton Court, Richmond, Eltham and St James’s have all at some point been the home of the sovereign, then faded into the background (or, indeed, been destroyed). My suggestion to offer Buck House to Parliament again remains in place.

EXTERNAL LINKS

All The King’s Horses

A photograph of Their Majesties in the Lords Chamber on 13th May, acquired through the United States embassy and therefore presumed to be public domain.

The May-June period tends to be quite a busy one in terms of grand royal ceremonies with equestrian components: In the past few weeks we’ve had the State Opening of Parliament, the Trooping of the Colour, the installation of Knights of the Garter and the races at Ascot. The first two events have, in recent years, been a good opportunity to get free-licence photographs of the senior royals for Wikimedia Commons. This year, unfortunately, the pickings have been quite slim.

For the state opening, the official House of Lords photographs have been uploaded to Flickr as “All Rights Reserved”. Those from the House of Commons are Non-Commercial No-Derivatives. The only ones I’ve actually been able to find and upload are a quartet from the Instagram account of the United States Embassy. There were also three photographs of the procession along the Mall taken by Alansplodge.

For Trooping the Colour, the Government Flickr accounts which took so many photographs in 2023, -4, and -5 have not taken any this year, so we are reliant on the generosity of digital marketing consultant John Pannell. He also got a lot of snaps at the event in 2022.

Pannell’s shot of the Princess of Wales in a landau with her sons. Princess Charlotte is either obscured or out-of-frame throughout the album.

Neither Garter Day nor Ascot usually get covered by government photographers so free-licence photographs of those events are restricted to the occasional shots by amateurs who release their own work. Of course, in the case of Garter Day it is only the procession which can be photographed at all while the rest takes place inside the castle, though on this occasion we did get a verbal account from the Since Attlee & Churchill podcast.

It is worth mentioning that though the Buckingham Palace Flickr account quietly stopped posting back in 2018, there is a separate feed from Kensington Palace with albums for three of these four events. Of course, these are also All Rights Reserved and thus out of bounds for Wikimedia.

Early Summer Heraldic News

10th June is International Heraldry Day. It’s not a widely-known occasion, of course, and I don’t have any particular way of celebrating it, but it felt like the occasion to post some updates.

Humphrey Lyttelton

Over the last few months I have been listening obsessively to the archives of the classic panel show I’m Sorry, I Haven’t A Clue (which, incidentally, is back for a new series this week). Among the hundreds of hours of babble and bickering, I picked up on a couple of heraldic references in Humphrey Lyttelton’s introductory monologues:

William Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury from 1633, was born in broad street where WH Smith stands, which is evidenced by the Laud family crest of a crossed pen and pencil set Argent topped by readers’ wives rampant.

(S37E1, 28th May 2001)

 

The story of Darlington’s history is neatly encompassed in its coat of arms. The Cross of St Cuthbert represents the town’s resistance to Viking raids, a bull’s head signifies the local breeding of fine cattle, and white chevrons with black lines indicate no overtaking on an urban freeway.

(S41E1, 26th May 2003)

If I manage to find enough of these, I could create a new armorial page called Humph’s Heraldry or I’m Sorry, I Haven’t A Crest.

Humph himself would be no stranger to heraldry, coming as he did from the aristocratic Lyttelton family. Humph was the only son of Hon. George William Lyttelton, himself the second son of Charles George Lyttelton, 8th Viscount Cobham. He was too far removed from the peerage to gain any style or honorific from it, but he still would have been an esquire by some of the traditional definitions, and of course that would make him an armiger too.

Lord Cobham’s arms were Argent a chevron between three escallops Sable and his crest was a Moor’s head in profile couped at the shoulders Proper wreathed about the temples Argent and Sable. Humph would have presumably displayed these with a crescent for difference, if following the rules of cadency.

The mention of William Laud prompted me to look for his actual heraldic bearings. The blazon I uncovered for his shield was Sable on a chevron between three estoiles Or three crosses pattee fitchy Gules. I cannot find the blazon for his crest, though as a clergyman he obviously would not have used one. That means I cannot explicitly disprove Humph’s suggestion, though as Laud died over a century before the establishment of the WH Smith company I suspect a direct homage is unlikely.

Anglican Archbishops

I was surprised to find that Laud’s personal arms, and those of several other Anglican bishops, were listed on Heraldry of the World, which normally only carries corporate arms. I then went about adding as many blazons as were available to their owners’ Wikipedia pages. When I got to William Temple I discovered that the arms were already cited, and the link was to the book The Blazon of Episcopacy by William Bedford, 1897. I don’t know how I missed this before. I have long been frustrated by the fact that Burke’s and Debrett’s only list the Lords Spiritual by the corporate arms of their sees instead of the personal arms of the incumbents, so this book was a revelation, if you’ll pardon the pun. This has given the the opportunity to start illustrating arms en masse again, having run low on material in the last few years. It also pushed my edit count past 24000, allowing me to upgrade my user rank to Senior Editor or Labutnum.

I have now set about creating an Armorial of the Archbishops of Canterbury, and after that will probably do so for all the other bishoprics in Bedford’s book too. Five years ago I created one for the Bishops of Chester because there was already a website which collated them, but did not have the necessary resources to go any further.

Articles on Other Sites

Yesterday The Atlantic published an article by British journalist Helen Lewis about the phenomenon of Americans applying to the College of Arms in London for honorary grants. Despite the timing, no mention is made of IHD and the article is clearly intended more as part of the commemorations for the 250th Anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. It includes snippets of interviews from several American armigers, as well as Dominic Ingram (Chester Herald) and an account of Lewis’s own visit to the College’s headquarters. Ingram makes a comment about his heart sinking when a client asks for lions due to their overuse. David White, now Garter, made the same comment a while back.

On 1st April the retired rector Ian Gomersall posted about receiving his letters patent, and even included some photographs of the artistic process. Four days ago Ian Leslie posted a long article which included a paragraph about William Shakespeare’s quest for heraldry, something which I have also discussed before.

Miscellaneous

In less exciting news, it has now been an entire year since the College posted a new edition of its own newsletter. The message in the sidebar still insists that the letter is produced every three months, but that has not been true for quite a while now.

On a quasi-related note, today would also have been the 105th birthday of the late Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh (he was eighteen days younger than Humph). Recently I inherited a copy of H.R.H. Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh: A Portrait by his Valet. The book was curiously undated, but Google Books tells me it was published in 1954. That feels remarkably early to be writing a biography like this, given that he would go on to live until 2021. The use of “Prince” in the title is also interesting, given that this book came out after he relinquished his Greek & Danish princely title but before he was granted his British one. Of course, I will have to get around to actually reading the book before I can make further judgement.

UPDATE (13th June)

The King’s Birthday Honours were published late last night. David Vines White, Garter since 2021, has been appointed a KCVO. This is routine for holders of his office, though it is interesting that he got it at what must be about the halfway point of his tenure, whereas his predecessors Woodcock and Gwynne-Jones didn’t get theirs until very near the end.

UPDATE (16th June)

Birkbeck College has published an interview with Timothy Noad, exploring the creative process behind the creation of the new royal cypher.

Reap-peer-ances

Two weeks after the publication of the list, the life peerages promised to expelled hereditary peers have begun to actually take effect. Contrary to what happened in 1999, and what I said in my previous post, it seems that these returning peers are allowed to simply take the oath in the way they would at the start of a new Parliament, without going through the formal introduction ceremony. This meant that members could take their seats on Wednesdays, and presumably more than two can do so at a time, which will considerably speed up the process of getting them all back in.

In searching through Hansard I have not found any evidence of the House actively making a decision to amend the standing orders for these peers. Then again, I cannot find such a decision being made to change the ceremonies during the lockdown either.

One downside to this approach is that we do not hear the letters patent being read out, so the only evidence of the member’s new title apart from when they say it themselves upon taking the oath. Life peerages under the 1958 Act are always baronies — the lowest degree — and these ones are obviously later created than the ones their recipients had before, so they are subsidiary to the titles by which these peers were already known. Both Hansard and Parliament.UK refer to a peer only by his highest title even if it is not the one by which he sits, to to know the full spelling of the life peerage, and its territorial designation, one has to wait for the notice to be published in the Gazette. As usual, there is a few days’ delay before this happens.

Those whose full titles have been availed thus far are:

  • Charles Wellesley, 9th Duke of Wellington as Baron Wellington of Stratfield Saye (of Stratfield Saye in the County of Hampshire and of Colomnell in the County of Ayrshire)
  • Godfrey Bewicke-Copley, 7th Baron Cromwell as Baron Cromwell of Tattershall (of Misterton in the County of Leicestershire)
  • Sebastian Grigg, 4th Baron Altrincham as Baron Altrincham of Islington (of Holland Park in the Royal Borough of Kensington & Chelsea)
  • Edward Howard, 8th Earl of Effingham as Baron Effingham of Bookham Commons (of Effingham in the County of Surrey)
  • Stephen Benn, 3rd Viscount Stansgate as Baron Stansgate of Holland Park (of Stansgate in the County of Essex)
  • Thomas Galbraith, 2nd Baron Strathclyde as Baron Strathclyde of Barskimming (of Barskimming in the County of Ayr)
  • Colin Moynihan, 4th Baron Moynihan as Baron Moynihan of Purbeck (of Leeds in the County of York)
  • Nicholas Trench, 9th Earl of Clancarty as Baron Clancarty of the Hangers (of Petersfield in the County of Hampshire)

These titles and their territorial designations are, quite literally, all over the place. In six out of eight cases the peer’s main title is a place name instead of his surname*, and in all six of these cases the life peerage ignores the surname in favour of repeating the main title followed by an unrelated second place name, then having a territorial designation which is different yet again.

Altrincham, for example, is actually a town in Greater Manchester (though originally in Cheshire). It is nowhere near the London Boroughs of Islington or Kensington, and to make matters worse the territorial designation of the hereditary barony is “of Tomarton in the County of Gloucester”, which is wrong again! Purbeck isn’t in Leeds, either, and I’m not sure why the County of Ayr has a “shire” on the end of it for Wellesley’s peerage but not for Galbraith’s.

This doesn’t matter much in practice as the new titles will never actually be used to refer to their holders in everyday practice, but the odd constructions indicate to me that the present Garter King of Arms has a quite idiosyncratic sense of Britain’s geography.

In Cromwell’s case it’s someone else’s surname, as the barony was created by writ and descended to his grandfather through the female line after four centuries’ abeyance.

Notes on the 2026 State Opening

The State Opening of Parliament took place today. This opens the second session of the fifty-ninth Parliament of the United Kingdom, and the third of the new Carolean era. There was not one in 2025*, but at least Their Majesties got to open the Canadian parliament instead.

Notes on the Ceremonial Elements

  • The King has a new Parliamentary robe (and Dr Allan Barton has already made a video about it). Previously he wore the one made in 1937 for his grandfather.
  • The Queen, having worn something different in 2024, seems to be wearing her coronation gown as she did in 2023, albeit without the gold highlights this time.
  • Ed Davis had his first state opening as Black Rod. He addressed the Commons as “this Noble house” rather than “this Honourable house”. Nobody pulled him up on that, at least publicly.
  • David Lammy attended his first state opening as Lord Chancellor. He revived the tradition of walking backwards down the steps of the throne having handed the speech to the monarch.
  • The Duke of Norfolk, the Lord Carrington and the Lord de Mauley all took part in the royal procession as Earl Marshal, Lord Great Chamberlain and Master of the Horse respectively. They still have access to Parliament for these purposes, but are no longer actually members of the upper house as a legislative body (though de Mauley will shortly be reappointed).
  • The Duke of Norfolk did not wear his Parliamentary robe (with its characteristic four strips of miniver) over his uniform. Having been removed as a legislator he can likely never wear it again. He last wore it in 2022, omitting it in 2023 and 2024.
  • The Princess Anne, as Gold Stick-in-Waiting, did not attend this state opening or that in 2024, but did in 2023.
  • The choreography was a little different this time: In 2022 and 2023 Charles entered the Lords chamber through the door on the government side and departed through the door on the opposition side, Camilla vice-versa. This time they entered as normal but both departed through the opposition side, walking adjacent.
  • One again Charles had four pages holding his train while Camilla only had two, so the end of her robe trailed along the carpet.
  • Dennis Skinner last attended a state opening in October 2019. Since then nobody else has picked up his tradition of jibes at Black Rod. This time somebody (not yet identified) shouted “Not Now, Andy!” as the door was knocked, referring to Andy Burnham’s attempts to get back into the lower house.

Notes on Photography

Both of the Parliamentary Flickr accounts uploaded a good selection of stills from the event. Unfortunately neither set used a Wiki-compatible licence this time, so they can’t be moved across. On the other hand, the government website’s page about the speech decided to illustrate it with not with a photograph from today’s event, but rather what is clearly a crop of one of the post-coronation portraits at Buckingham Palace on 6th May 2023.

Previously the copyright on these portraits was very tightly controlled, but by using it here HM Government may have inadvertently released it under OGL3. It has already been uploaded to Wikimedia Commons and will probably stay there until someone clarifies otherwise.

The Political Element

Of course, we must not forget that the event is not pure theatre: The actual speech is the most important part as that lays out the government’s agenda for the next year. This, however, assumes that there will actually be a government.

The fallout from Labour’s poor performance in the local elections is still raging and the night before the state opening four junior ministers had to be replaced because they resigned in protest at Sir Keir Starmer’s leadership. So far this is nowhere near the scale of what happened to Jeremy Corbyn in 2016 or Boris Johnson in 2022 but for this to happen at all on a day like this is still very concerning for any government. At time of posting there are rumours circling that Wes Streeting, Secretary of State for Health & Social Care, may be about to resign from the Cabinet and begin a leadership challenge. If this does occur, it will be interesting to see how much of today’s speech ever actually gets implemented. Watch this space, I suppose.

An Expulsion, and Afterwards an Encore

At the end of the previous Parliamentary session late last month, those members of the House of Lords sitting by virtue of hereditary peerages lost that membership. Today, on the eve of the new session, the government announced that twenty-six of them will be given life peerages to allow them to be reintroduced. Fifteen of these are Conservatives, nine Crossbenchers and two Labour. There were no Liberal Democrats on the list, though two of their hereditary representatives — the Earl Russell and the Lord Addington — had already received the same gift in a different honours list in December.

The timing of this has some interesting implications: As Addington and Russell received their life peerages before their hereditary tickets were annulled, their membership of the upper house is continuous. The two-dozen reappointed after the event technically have had a break in service, so may need to undergo the introduction ceremony of a new peer to resume their seats. The standing orders prohibit more than six introductions per week, so re-seating all of these peers could take over a month. Some of the choices are pretty obvious, such as the Conservatives’ former leader Strathclyde and current deputy leader Howe. Others are less obvious. I presume there must have been a lot of backstage haggling between parties over how many life peerages would be awarded, as well as within parties to determine who would get them. In recent years the government has tended to publish “citations” for new life peers, including those who were peers already, but that element was absent from this list.

In 1999 when the bulk of hereditary peers were removed to leave only 92 elected representatives therefrom, a handful of such peers were given life peerages to exempt them from having to seek election. This broadly amounted to those who were former leaders of the house (such as Cranborne and Longford) and those who were the first of their title (such as Snowdon). I cannot work out any specifics that this rump-of-a-rump have in common, so I assume there was an informal ballot among the group or they were chosen at the leader/convener’s discretion.

Notably absent were the Duke of Norfolk and the Lord Carrington, who hold respectively the offices of Earl Marshal and Lord Great Chamberlain. The 1999 Act had a special provision for these two to remain ex officio. The Earl Marshal is a hereditary title entailed to the Dukes of Norfolk since 1672 whereas the Lord Great Chamberlain position has, since Edwardian times, rotated at each demise of the crown. During Elizabeth II’s reign it was held by the Marquesses of Cholmondeley. David, 7th Marquess, held the tole from the death of his father in 1990 to the death of Queen Elizabeth in 2022. Parliament.UK makes clear that he lost his membership of the upper house on Charles III’s accession. Carrington assumed the office at that point, but he had already been elected as a Conservative peer in 2018. After 2022 he appears to have been occupying two seats at once as there was not a by-election for his previous position. On a similar note, it’s not clear if Addington and Russell (or, for that matter, Kinnoull) continued to be counted as representative hereditary peers after their life peerages had been conferred. The only meaningful way to test this would have been to call by-elections, but these had all been suspended when the recent legislation was been processed during the 2024-6 session. A handful of hereditary peers died or retired during this time without being replaced, so that the delegation was substantially below strength by the time the session ended.

There is, of course, already a Wikipedia page under construction for this list.

End of Session, End of Service

The ceremony of prorogation was carried out this afternoon, ending the first session of the fifty-ninth Parliament of the United Kingdom, which has sat for nearly two years since the general election in July 2024.

Prorogation kills any bills which have not yet reached the point of passing. Notably, the highly-controversial Terminally Ill Adults End of Life) Bill ran out of legislative time and therefore will not become law.

This prorogation was authorised by an Order in Council at the start of this month. As is usual for these instruments, one specific date is named for the opening of the new session but a range of a week is offered for the closing of the old one. In practice governments nearly always go for the earliest day in the range. In this case it was widely speculated that the Starmer ministry wanted to close Parliament as swiftly as possible to halt an investigation over Lord Mandelson, which has been causing them humiliation for some weeks now.

Today is also the last day in Parliament for many of those elected hereditary peers, as the Act removing their right to representation was scheduled to take effect at the session’s end (although a handful are expected to receive life peerages in compensation). The significance of this occasion is likely the reason that the upper chamber was packed to the rafters today, in contrast to most prorogations when attendance is usually quite low.

There were quite a few changes among the principal players here, partly because of the long time this session lasted:

  • The Baroness Smith of Basildon, Leader of the House, was naturally the lead among the Lords Commissioners. She has been performing this role for over a decade now.
  • The Lord Forsyth of Drumlean took part as Lord Speaker for the first time, replacing McFall of Alcluith.
  • The Earl Howe, Shadow Deputy Leader of the House, and a member of the Conservative frontbench for a record-breaking thirty-five years, represented his party in lieu of the True. He is the first hereditary peer to take part in a royal commission since Strathclyde in 2012, and the first Earl since Ferrers in 1992.
  • Another earl, Kinnoull, the Convener of the Crossbench Peers, has still not been made a Privy Counsellor so his place was taken by the Baroness Hayman, the original Lord Speaker.
  • The Lord Purvis of Tweed, Leader of the Liberal Democrat Peers, is not a Privy Counsellor either so was represented by Beith.
  • Sarah Mullally was named in the commission as Archbishop of Canterbury for the first time (replacing Justin Welby) though the Archbishop hasn’t actually taken part in this ceremony for centuries and I didn’t see her in the chamber.
  • David Lammy was named in the commission as Lord Chancellor for the first time (replacing Shabana Mahmood), but Lord Chancellors haven’t taken part in prorogations since 2006.
  • Jo Farrar appeared for the first time as Clerk of the Crown in Chancery, reading the short titles of the Acts receiving royal assent, replacing Antonia Romeo.
  • Chloe Mawson appeared for the first time as Clerk of the Parliaments, pronouncing (perhaps mispronouncing) “Le Roy Le Veult”, replacing Simon Burton.
  • Ed Davis summoned the Commons for the first time as Black Rod, replacing Sarah Clarke.

The purpose of the Lords Commissioners is to carry out these Parliamentary ceremonies in the absence of the monarch himself. Today that need is particularly urgent as Charles III is about 3500 miles away visiting New York City. When Lady Smith read out the pro-forma line “My Lords, it not being convenient for His Majesty personally to be present here this day…” there was an eruption of laughter from the chamber and she had to then say “Settle Down!”. At the end of the ceremony, the gracious speech in “The King’s Own Words” was obviously rather less enchanting than those which Charles had actually given in Washington D.C. recently. It mentioned all the inbound state visits since the general election (Qatari, French, American, German and Nigerian) as well as the current outbound one, but curiously not those to Samoa, Italy, or the Vatican.

This prorogation was the only business conducted in the upper house today, but in the lower house there was time for a final round of Prime Minister’s Questions (meaning Starmer didn’t entirely escape further grilling on the Mandelson scandal) and the first reading of a bill regarding banking services. The latter was for a commendable cause but the effort was clearly purely symbolic given the timing.

The state opening will take place on 13th May. It will be interesting to see what roles the Earl Marshal and Lord Great Chamberlain can now play.

New Garter Knights for 2026

There were no new appointments made to the Order of the Garter in 2025, the most recent addition being the off-cycle appointment of the Emperor of Japan as a Stranger Knight on his state visit in 2024.

Today three new Knights Companion were announced, leaving just one vacancy among the ordinary category: Lord Hennessy of Nympsfield, Lord O’Donnell and Lord Burnett of Maldon. All three are crossbench life peers. Actually, all of the non-royal recipients of the Garter so far this reign have been life peers. By contrast, the fifteen still-living members added by Elizabeth II comprise seven life peers, four hereditary peers and four commoners. It may be too early to determine if this represents a significant trend.

O’Donnell was Cabinet Secretary from 2005 to 2011. From lectures and documentaries I get the sense that he was a particularly-revered holder of that office. It is also notable that he was the last in a long string to be simultaneously Head of the Home Civil Service, Cabinet Secretary and Permanent Secretary to the Cabinet Office, after which there was an attempt to split these into three separate roles (though the first two were reunited not long afterwards). His first name is formally Augustine, but in practice is nearly always given as Gus, giving him the initials G.O.D. Ironically, while he is now a Knight of the Garter and has since 2005 been a Knight of the Bath as well, he has not been appointed to the Order of St Michael and St George, which denies him the opportunity to live out this classic joke from Yes, Minister.

Burnett was Lord Chief Justice of England & Wales from 2017 to 2023, his six-year tenure making him the longest-serving LCJ since Geoffrey Lane (1980-1992).

He doesn’t seem to be as famous as O’Donnell, though I note he was part of the divisional court of the Queen’s Bench Division for the Miller 2 case in 2019. After retiring from the English judiciary he became Chief Justice of a commercial court based in Kazakhstan.

Both Burnett and O’Donnell are the sort of people one could expect to receive the Garter based on their offices as the existing membership included Lord Butler of Brockwell and Lord Phillips of Worth Matravers, though neither office guarantees the award and there are plenty of emeriti from each who have not received it.

Hennessy is the exception here, as although a parliamentarian he does not seem to have held any particular public office, whether governmental, ministerial, diplomatic, judicial or vice-regal. There have been a handful of people like this, like Mary Soames and Edmund Hillary, but they are definitely a rarity. He co-founded the Institute of Contemporary British History in 1986 and has been Attlee Professor of Contemporary British History since 1992 at QMUL since 1992. He has written at least two-dozen books on history and politics, making him the most (first?) prominent academic to receive the nation’s highest order. Norton must be quietly seething.

I illustrated Hennessy’s shield for Wikimedia Commons in 2022. It is about what one would expect for a man who has worked in academia. I suspect that Rs-nouse will be re-illustrating it in his characteristic style fairly shortly. Neither O’Donnell nor Burnett had arms listed in Debrett’s 2019, so the hanging of their banners in St George’s Chapel will be an exciting revelation.

Garter appointments are traditionally announced on 23rd April because it is St George’s Day, St George of Lydda being the patron saint of the Order of the Garter since its inception in 1348 and of England more generally thereafter. In modern times, today is also the eighth birthday of Prince Louis of Wales. I can’t help wondering if the Duke & Duchess of Cambridge quietly kicked themselves for having already given the name George to their July-born first son, thus missing another chance for poetic alignment.

Louis & George in June 2023

On another note, we are approaching the tenth anniversary of the EU Referendum, and with it the tenth anniversary of when Theresa May succeeded David Cameron as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. It is also the year that he turns sixty and she seventy. Both have been ennobled relatively recently but neither has received any British order of chivalry. I had thought that this would be a good occasion for one of them to receive the Garter, but evidently that will have to wait for some time yet.

The Tudor Crown in the Indian Ocean

The British Indian Ocean Territory, the entity governing the group of islands known collectively as the Chagos Archipelago, was formally created on 8th November 1965, but the territory’s flag and heraldic achievement were not granted until 1990. The flag technically was intended only to represent the office of Commissioner rather than be a civil flag in the normal way, as the Territory has no resident civilian population, instead existing mainly to house a joint United Kingdom-United States military facility.

The field of the flag is Argent charged with six bars wavy Azure. In the principal quarter is the Union Flag, and in the right half is a palm tree erect Proper charged on the trunk with the Imperial crown Or. Originally the depiction of the crown was, of course, St Edward’s Crown, but very recently it has joined the trend of changing to the Tudor Crown, in line with the preferences of the present sovereign. Checking the BIOT government website on the Wayback Machine shows the old illustration still on the homepage as late as 25th February, with the new version in its place by 22nd March. The entire flag has been redrawn in a different artistic style, probably created digitally this time instead of drawn on paper then scanned.

The flag as it appeared before.

The new image was uploaded to Wikimedia Commons earlier today. The territory’s heraldic achievement, which features a crown on the escutcheon as well as replicating the flag in the crest, is still using St Edward’s.

While I have blogged many times since 2022 about the transition between crown types, this one is particularly significant because of its political implications: Until recently, the British government had been planning to cede sovereignty of the Chagos Islands to the Republic of Mauritius. This would likely have resulted in the BIOT ceasing to exist as a political entity with the effect that both flag and arms would be defunct.

The treaty is highly controversial and it has been challenged many times, including by the community of displaced Chagossians themselves who have appropriated the territory’s flag as a symbol of their protest movement. Last week it was announced that, due to a loss of support from the President of the United States, the ratification of the treaty had been indefinitely postponed.

The change to the Tudor Crown is therefore indicative of a change in mindset: It wouldn’t have been worth redrawing unless the polity was expected to continue to exist for an appreciable time to come.

Charles III and Artemis II

At time of writing, the world is eagerly awaiting the launch of the Artemis II mission, a planned flight around the moon and back. As is so often the case in astronomy, the facts of this excursion ruin one’s sense of perspective: Although humans landed on the moon itself all the way back in 1969, all of the great many manned flights, both state and commercial, since 1972 have only been as far as Low Earth Orbit. This mission, if successful, will take its crew further away from this planet than any human has ever previously ventured. Though this is a great achievement for humanity as a whole, and although it makes the Earth (with all the various human-made satellites surrounding it) look pathetically small, there is still a nationalist element to be considered here: While lots of countries have a space programme of some description, only the United States of America has ever achieved manned flights of these distances, and every human thus far to travel beyond LEO has been American.

That will change with Artemis II, as one of the crew is Canadian: Colonel Jeremy Hansen, part of the Canadian Space Agency since 2009 and a veteran of the Royal Canadian Air Force. He appeared as flag-bearer as part of the Canadian delegation at the coronation in 2023 and was subsequently awarded the British version of that year’s coronation medal.

Yesterday His Majesty sent an open letter to Hansen specifically concerning the upcoming launch. I have not seen any photograph of a paper version, but the text has been uploaded to the Royal Family website, as well as the Firm’s Twitter account and that of the Canadian Space Agency. The letter says that “as the first Canadian to venture to the Moon, [Hansen] carr[ies] not only the hopes of [his] fellow Canadians and the Commonwealth, but also the aspirations of humanity itself” and also makes references to the Astra Carta programme. It should be clear that Charles here is writing principally in his capacity as King of Canada (as emphasised by the fact that it’s in French as well as English), and indeed the CSA’s Tweeted version explicitly credits him as such, yet as I have remarked before (posts passim ad nauseam) both images show the new illustrations of the British royal arms with the Tudor crown.

Arms of the Canadian Space Agency, granted in 1991

All the photographs of Hansen in his space suit show St Edward’s crown featured prominently on his name badge, suggesting that the “Trudea crown” has not yet been rolled out to that extent. This flight could therefore represent the furthest that anyone wearing an official representation of said crown has ever travelled, which ought to be a good story for the heraldic record book.

UPDATE (2nd April)

The Canadian Armed Forces Cyber Command has unveiled its new heraldic badge, which does indeed use the Trudeau crown.