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.