Proud Member of Clan MacThomas, Whose Blood Flows Through My Veins

Posted on April 23, 2025 by Regina Jeffers

When I traveled to Disney World with my son and his family several years back, I was quite disappointed for I only saw my favorite Disney princess once. That is Merida from “Brave.” One of things I like about Merida is she chooses her own path to travel, and she does not require a prince to save her. Yada, Yada! The film was released in 2012, but no one then was complaining about the prince not saving Snow White. Yet, that is another story for current times, not the purpose of this post.

When the clans arrive to bring their suitors from which Merida is to choose, I automatically scream “Macintosh” along with the voice over from Craig Ferguson. My granddaughters always looked at me curiously, but only recently have I explained that my 9th Great-Grandfather on my father’s side is the 7th Chieftain of the clan, John Mccomie (Iain Mòr), who has passed into the folklore of Perthshire. [https://www.maclaine.org/legends] You see, the reason I screamed “Mackintosh,” was the fact that the progenitor of the Clan MacThomas was Thomas, who was a Scottish Gaelic speaking Highlander. He was known as Tomaidh Mòr and it is from him that the clan takes its name. He was a grandson of William Mackintosh, 7th chief of Clan Mackintosh and 8th chief of the Chattan Confederation. [Way, George and Squire, Romily. Collins Scottish Clan & Family Encyclopedia. (Foreword by The Rt Hon. The Earl of Elgin KT, Convenor, The Standing Council of Scottish Chiefs). Published in 1994. Pages 258–259.]

According to the tale of the Mccomies, my 9th great-grandfather objected to the taxes the Earl of Atholl had placed on them. One must remember that the Mormaer or Earl of Atholl was the title of the holder of a medieval comital lordship straddling the highland province of Atholl (Ath Fodhla), now in northern Perthshire. Atholl is a special Mormaerdom, because a King of Atholl is reported from the Pictish period. ANYWAY, the Earl of Atholl thought to be done away with my great-grandfather by employing a champion swordsman from Italy. One problem existed; Mccomie slew the swordsman instead. Or, at least, that is how I heard it.

Clan MacThomas supported Charles I during the 17th Century Scottish Civil War. My ancestor, Ian Mor MacThomas joined James Graham, 1st Marquess of Montrose, in 1644 at Dundee. When the royalists captured Aberdeen, Iain Mor himself captured Sir William Forbes who was sheriff of Aberdeen and commander of the Covenanter cavalry. However the chief of Clan MacThomas withdrew his support from Montrose after he was defeated at the Battle of Philiphaugh and instead devoted his time to extending his lands which included purchasing the Barony of Forter from the Earl of Airlie.

“After the Restoration of 1660 Macthomas was fined heavily by Parliament and the Earl of Airlie set about trying to recover some of his lands. Airlie’s legal action was successful but the chief of Clan MacThomas refused to recognize this and continued to pasture his cattle on the disputed land. In response Airlie used his legal right to lease the land to men of the Clan Farquharson which led to a feud. On 28 January 1673 Farquharson of Broughdearg was killed along with two sons of Iain Mor MacThomas. The lawsuits that followed crippled the MacThomas chief and when he died in 1676 his remaining sons were forced to sell the lands.”

The MacThomas chief is mentioned again in 1678 and 1681 in Government proclamations but the clan had begun to drift apart. Some moved south to the Tay valley where they became known as Thomson and others to Angus in Fife where they are known as Thomas, Thom or Thoms. The tenth chief took the name Thomas and then later Thoms. He settled in northern Fife and successfully farmed.

https://www.scotclans.com/blogs/clan-mn/macthomas-clan-history

After all the battles, and following Iain Mor’s death, his remaining sons were forced to sell their lands. The clan drifted apart some going to the Tay Valley and some to Angus and Fife where they took the names Thomas, Thom or Thoms. Others moved to Aberdeenshire where the name became corrupted to McCombie of Tillyfour.

“In 1954 the Clan MacThomas Society was formed. The Clan is unusual as most of its members do not have the name MacThomas. But have a name of one of its septs. These are Comb, Combie, McColm, McComas, McComb, McCombie, McComie, McComish, Macomie, Macomish, Macthomas, Tam, Thom, Thomas, Thoms and Thomson.

“The current chief is Andrew MacThomas of Fingand. During his lifetime the clans ancient gathering ground ‘The Cockstane’ was purchased as well as the new bridge at The River Shee was named after the family. Historic links with with the Glenshee family have been re-established. The current chief has one son, Thomas born in the late 1980s.” [MacThomas Clan History]

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clan_MacThomas#See_also

Posted in castles, customs and tradiitons, family, Great Britain, heraldry, hero, history, legends, Scotland | Tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Children’s Meals in the Regency Era

Posted on April 21, 2025 by Regina Jeffers

A reader recently asked of what I knew of children’s meals during the Georgian era. In truth, I have collected a hodgepodge of facts. I will attempt to organize the in some manner, but I fear not to know true success, so bear with me.

Seems to me the important thing to remember is that English children of the comfortable classes were traditionally fed their main meal (i.e. dinner–usually the meal with meat) in the middle of the day. That’s when everyone had dinner back in medieval times–Henry VIII supposedly had his dinner at 11:30 A.M.

Children’s meals remained settled there as the adult meal shifted farther and farther into the afternoon and evening. Children (at least the ones in one of our typical Regency upper classes) did not eat with adults; they were fed by nannies or nursemaids in the nursery. Their meals remained stable, probably because it was just easier that way. A nursery tea, therefore, was the children’s meal just before a bath and bed or just bed in the earlier periods when a daily bath was not considered next to godliness. Whether they called it “tea” or not in Regency times I do not know. Perhaps originally it was “supper.” I have never seen any reference to the children’s meal being a “snack” at any time.

I do not know when it began, but I do know that the English use of the word ‘tea’ for a meal as well as a simple noun for a beverage.

https://englishlanguagethoughts.com/2017/10/09/whats-for-tea/

English Language Thoughts tell us: “In Britain in the 18 and 19th centuries, dinner was often served around 8 pm, so the meal tea was developed in order to provide some sustenance during the long hours between lunch and dinner. In upper-class households where leisure time was plentiful, this became known as afternoon tea, and was usually served around 4pm, consisting of tea, of course, and some light dishes such as sandwiches.

“For working-class families though, tea usually had to wait until shortly after 5pm, when the workday was finished. This meal, which tended to feature heavier cooked dishes such as pies, became known as high tea, apparently as families would have it while sitting on high-backed chairs, and not the soft armchairs of the upper classes.

“Teatime then, refers to the general late-afternoon, early-evening period when either of these variations were served. But as I said earlier, there are three meals which claim the name tea, and the third one is the one that really provokes strong feelings in some people.

“As we moved into the 20th century, the number of highly physically-demanding jobs declined, as did working hours, and many working-class families no longer felt the need to have both tea and dinner after work. Both meals were therefore often replaced by a single evening meal at about 6 or 7 pm. Some called this dinner, but some preferred tea. To this day, what you call your evening meal is considered a sure sign of your social class in the UK. Referring to it as tea identifies you as working-class, whereas dinner is more of a practice of the middle classes. If you’re a member of the upper classes though, the word dinner might be refer to a formal affair, and therefore the word supper is used to refer to a more humble, homemade evening meal.

“But of course supper is also sometimes used, by those who use the term dinner, to refer to a light nighttime meal. You can see then, why this gets confusing, and why people get so defensive about which one they use! Makes you want to sit down with a nice cup of tea, or cha, or char, or cuppa…”

While the grownups had tea – as we drink it today, with sugar and milk – the child/children were given cambric tea, consisting of a scant spoon of sugar, a teaspoon or so of tea (poured from the pot, just like an adult’s) and then filled to the brim with warm milk. Remember though, cambric tea was not a Georgian era term. “Also known as nursery tea, or milk tea, it was coined cambric tea because, like the fabric, it was light and thin. It is suggested it was first used mid-century, in 1859, but there is no definite confirmation of its origins. Claimed to be coined in the US, it can also be found referenced in fiction and non-fiction sources from both Canada and the UK.

No More Cambric Tea tells us, “Cambric tea was also featured in American author Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House series, and like Montgomery, described it as a childhood drink, especially in winter months, when warm water and a dash of tea gave the younger children in the Ingalls family a bit of energy.

“At noon Ma sliced bread and filled bowls with the hot bean broth and they all ate where they were, close to the stove. They all drank cups of strong, hot tea. Ma even gave Grace a cup of cambric tea. Cambric tea was hot water and milk, with only a taste of tea in it, but little girls felt grown-up when their mothers let them drink cambric tea”. (The Long Winter, by Laura Ingalls Wilder).

In my family, the “old folks” often spoke of how my great grandparents several times removed (who came from Scotland in the mid to 1800s) would have tea when they came home from school starving (as children usually do). They called it ‘cambric tea.’ She had tea every day of her life in the mid-afternoon, whether the family was dirt-poor or reasonably comfortable (our family was never rich!) and she believed that children should learn both proper habits and manners. You can find recipes for “nursery tea” online with lots of milk, sugar, and vanilla–basically a way to add a little more nutrition to a child’s tea

There’s a good overview of the history of “tea” as a social function here – http://www.foodtimeline.org/teatime.html

Tea as a social even (as in tea time) really start off more in the 1830’s and became the more formal affair in Victorian and Edwardian times. During that later era “tea” became the working class meal as well.

In Regency era, children often took their meals in the nursery and not with the family–so they might have nursery tea with their dinner. But tea in Georgian and Regency time tea was still more of a beverage to be served as a possible refreshment to callers–or a beverage for late in the evening along with possibly some cakes or a light snack type meal before bed, but not so much a social event as in afternoon tea.

Also, if one is looking to learn what the children in a household might have, it would not be too out of the ordinary for cook to have a treat for them–hot pastries or biscuits (the English version of cookies) or cakes. A child might well eat in the kitchen in a household that is not too formal.

And, by the way “snack” is in period – http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?term=snack

verb – The meaning “have a mere bite or morsel, eat a light meal” is first attested 1807.

noun – Main modern meaning “a bite or morsel to eat hastily” is attested from 1757.

From what I have discerned regarding raising small children in England, nursery tea was the final meal for children during the day. They had a proper meal, dinner, at what we call “lunch” time. Nursery tea was half tea/half milk, bread and milk, and usually some cake for afterwards. I remember my grandfather talking about how his grandmother would present them with an “egg tea,” meaning the children would have a boiled egg as well.

This was of course long after the Regency and even the Victorians! But I would expect it was one of the meals that changed little. Probably since tea was so expensive it would be only a taste of tea or perhaps none at all–or some herbal tea. But I would believe that the base would most likely be bread and butter for the comfortable middle class and much the same for the wealthy–except perhaps in the north of England, Ireland, and Scotland, where oats were more commonly available than wheat, and then it would be a dish of porridge.

https://ladybakerstea.com/blogs/blog/no-more-cambric-tea#:~:text=Also%20known%20as%20nursery%20tea,definite%20confirmation%20of%20its%20origins.

“Nursery tea” would then most likely refer to a very simple meal–and I agree that it would probably be Victorian or possibly late Regency period, because it was only then that the grownups–the ladies!–started drinking tea in the afternoon. At that period, as I understand it, people routinely went from breakfast to dinner w/o eating in the meantime, except for snacks that eventually became known as elevenses and tea (as a time to eat, not a beverage). It was the advancing hour of dinner, from 5-6, which it was generally in the 18th century, to later in the day that gradually re-established the mid-day meal that had been called dinner before it moved later and later. In the days when dinner as the main meal was mid-day, there was supper in the evening.  Nursery tea, therefore, could be considered an adaptation of supper for children!

I looked into this when I saw the term “nursery tea” in a Regency book. Nursery tea was hot water with milk and sugar. It could be because tea was expensive or it could be because they noticed bad effects (like being really hyper or uncontrollable or not being able to sleep) on children of a certain age. I do not remember if it said when this practice started, but the book I saw it in was right after Waterloo. 

Personally, I think “nursery tea” sounds Victorian–something established after tea became an afternoon ritual  and could well signify a childish version of high tea. High tea was not a more formalized, elaborate version of the established Victorian practice of afternoon tea, but a supper moved forward  in time to late afternoon or early evening. I read once that it started out as a sort of mocking name for the meal a working family had in the evening.

In the Regency period, tea was still a bit too expensive to be wasted on children. Their meals were often merely bread and milk.

Posted in American History, British history, food, Georgian England, Georgian Era, history, Living in the UK, Regency era, research | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Children’s Meals in the Regency Era

Easter Through the Georgian/Regency Era and the Earlier Victorian Era

Posted on April 18, 2025 by Regina Jeffers

One must recall, especially this year when Easter feels like it is so late, that Easter, unlike Christmas which falls on the same date each year, as a “moveable feast,” the date of Easter is determined in each year through a calculation known as computus paschalis (Latin for ‘computation’) – often simply Computus – or as paschalion particularly in the Orthodox church. [Bede (1999) The Reckoning of Time. Translated by Faith Wallis. Liverpool University Press. p.xviii]  Easter is celebrated on the first Sunday after the Paschal full moon (a mathematical approximation of the first astronomical full moon, on or after 21 March – itself a fixed approximation of the March equinox). Determining this date in advance requires a correlation between the lunar months and the solar year, while also accounting for the month, date, and weekday of the Julian or Gregorian calendar. [Bede (1999) pp. xviii – xx] The complexity of the algorithm arises because of the desire to associate the date of Easter with the date of the Jewish feast of Passover which, Christians believe, is when Jesus was crucified. [John 19:14 “Now it was the day of Preparation for the Passover; and it was about noon. He said to the Jews, “Here is your King!”

Easter’s date is based on the lunar calendar. not a calendar as with Christmas. Easter comes on the first Sunday after the first full moon following the spring equinox.

The spring equinox arrived on March 20 this year, which marks the astronomical start of spring. It’s the time when there are roughly the same number of hours of day and night on all parts of Earth, according to NASA. That means Easter Sunday can fall anywhere between March 22 and April 25.

This year, Coordinated Universal Time (UTC), often referred to as the military time zones plays a big role in when we celebrate Easter, for Easter is set as the first Sunday after the first full moon of the vernal equinox (start of spring). In 2025, though we in the U.S. had our first full moon after the vernal equinox on Saturday, April 12, we are on Daylight Savings Time, meaning we jumped ahead one hour. If not, Sunday, April 13, would have been Easter because it would have been the Sunday after the full moon. That is where UTC time comes in. The full moon is actually a FULL 22 minutes after midnight in the U.S., meaning April 13. Therefore, we must wait until April 20 for Easter. Are you thoroughly confused? Though I know the reason, I had difficulty explaining all this.

Just to mess with your minds a bit more, in case you have never considered this part of the night sky, in the Southern Hemisphere, the Moon is observed from a perspective inverted, or rotated 180°, to that of the Northern, so that the opposite sides appear to wax or wane. Closer to the Equator, the lunar terminator will appear horizontal during the morning and evening. This is a plot point in one of my upcoming novels. LOL!

All that being said, I thought that as it is nearly Easter 2025, some of you who read and write Regency might wish a reminder as to when Easter occurred during the Regency era (and a bit beyond). [Please note that I wrote this piece in late 2024 as I was recovering from three cancer surgeries. Yes, I generally do my blog posts several months in advance! Anyway, I chose to include pieces from other authors on Easter rather than to do all the research myself, as I am not yet at my best. I did find the moveable dates for Easter, however. I have presented each author link. As a former English teacher, I strongly despise plagiarism and believe in giving credit where it is due.]

It was originally feasible for the entire Christian Church to receive the date of Easter each year through an annual announcement by the pope. By the early third century, however, communications in the Roman Empire had deteriorated to the point that the church put great value in a system that would allow the clergy to determine the date for themselves, independently yet consistently. [Bede (1999) p. xx]  Additionally, the church wished to eliminate dependencies on the Hebrew calendar, by deriving the date for Easter directly from the March equinox.

EASTER:

13 April 1800    3 April 1825  

5 April 1801   26 March 1826  

18 April 1802    15 April 1827  

10 April 1803    6 April 1828  

1 April 1804   19 April 1829 

14 April 1805   11 April 1830 

6 April 1806    3 April 1831 

29 March 1807   22 April 1832 

7 April 1808    7 April 1833   

2 April 1809   30 March 1834  

22 April 1810   19 April 1835  

14 April 1811    3 April 1836  

29 March 1812   26 March 1837  

18 April 1813   15 April 1838  

10 April 1814   31 March 1839  

26 March 1815   19 April 1840  

14 April 1816   11 April 1841  

6 April 1817   27 March 1842  

22 March 1818   16 April 1843  

11 April 1819    7 April 1844  

2 April 1820   23 March 1845  

22 April 1821   12 April 1846  

7 April 1822    4 April 1847  

30 March 1823    23 April 1848  

18 April 1824 

In the  early years of the 19th century, the date of Easter was quite important. Law courts, parliament, school terms  — as well as the church calendar all based dates on that of Easter. Generally, the season in Town did not start until after Easter.

Donna Hatch tells us something of Holy Week: “True believers viewed Easter and Holy Week, the week between Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday, as even more important than Christmas due to its reminder of the Resurrection. Multiple church services occurred during the week complete with choirs singing. On Easter Sunday, worship included choirs singing, incense burning, chanting, kneeling, making the sign of the cross, and lighting candles during personal prayers. Some churches today, especially larger cathedrals, still practice these traditional forms of worship. A common practice includes draping the statues in black and stripping the altar on Good Friday symbolic of mourning the Savior’s death. On Easter morning, they removed black from church altars and dressed them to celebrate His Resurrection.

“According to Gaelen Foley, new gowns and Easter bonnets were a must for all gently-bred Regency ladies to wear to church and social events, a custom that many still observe today. An important part of the day included Easter dinner, usually including ham or lamb, and, of course, hot cross buns.”

Jane Austen UK tells us, “… Though dying and decorating eggs to mark the coming of Spring has been a tradition since before the advent of Christianity, the first chocolate eggs started to appear on the continent somewhere around the end of Austen’s lifetime, and would have been chocolate  the whole way through, rather than hollow- now that sounds like a challenge for your fillings! The first commercially produced Easter egg in the UK was created by J.S. Fry and Sons in 1873, followed by Cadbury in 1875.

“Easter celebrations would have begun, as they do now, on Shrove Tuesday, or Pancake day… they made a whole day of it, with the ladies of the parish racing around their parish clutching a frying pan, trying to be the one to win the Pancake Day race. Ash Wednesday would follow the next morning, and forty days and nights of observance with it. 

“Easter (was) a strictly observed day in the Church of England’s calendar. The whole parish would get together to observe the occasion. …

“Then it would be time for (the midday meal). Like today, our Regency forebears would have enjoyed a Hot Cross Buns, with vendors lining the streets in the days running up to the big event. Lamb or ham would also have been served for the main meal.”

Meanwhile, 10 Victorian Easter Traditions You Should Try, tells us, “Just as they do today, children loved their Victorian Easter. They would dye hens’ eggs using cranberries, beets, oranges, and lemon peel. Just like the Christmas tree, Easter egg hunts and the egg roll was introduced by Germans to England during the 1800s. Children would participate in both egg rolling and egg hunts and the winner would receive a special prize. Some Victorian egg hunts included cardboard eggs lined with fabric and containing candy.”

Date of Easter

From Yahoo Life: What’s the earliest date Easter is held? You’ll wait until 2285 for the next one

The earliest date Easter is held is March 22.

The last time Easter was on March 22 was in 1818. The next time will be in 2285, according to earthsky.

What’s the latest date Easter is held? That will come in 2038

The latest date Easter is held is April 25.

The last time Easter was on April 25 was in 1943. The next time Easter will be on April 25 will be in 2038, followed by the one in 2190.

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The Quem Quaeritis Trope, the Roots of Liturgical Drama

Posted on April 16, 2025 by Regina Jeffers

413ZV9RH8FL.jpg The first Easter or Quem Quaeritis trope had its beginnings in the Benedictine Abbey of St. Gall, Switzerland. (The script of this first trope and an accompanying translation can be found below.) The Easter trope became the model for similar tropes associated with Christmas and the Ascension. 

Melodies connected with the Mass were sung with vowel sounds alone, and these were the beginnings of the liturgical dramas, which grew into the English Miracle and Morality plays. Originally the Quem Quaeritis trope was an Introit trope at the beginning of the Easter mass. Later, it became part of the Sepulchrum, an Easter drama, which began on Good Friday and the “creeping of the cross,” known as Adoratio Crucis. The Good Friday Communion known as Depositio Crucis and then on to the Elevatio Crucis on Easter morning. This ceremony varied greatly depending upon the country in which it was performed. 

duccio_di_buoninsegna_detail1

Triduum, a Liturgical Drama in Three Acts

In England there was Quem Quaeritis held at Winchester Cathedral. The manuscript used then was copied in about 980 A.D. At the Winchester ceremony they placed the Quem Quaeritis in the middle of the performance instead of at the beginning of the Easter Mass. It was part of the third Nocturn at Matins on Easter morning. E. K. Chamber in The Medieval Stage (Vol. II, p. 15) says that in the Quem Quaeritis that the “Dialogued chant and mimetic action have come together and the first liturgical drama is, in all its essentials, complete.” 

Angelica de Christi Resurrectione

Quem quaeritis in sepulchro, Christicolae?

Sanctarum mulierum responsio:

Ihesum Nazarenum crucifixum, O caelicola!

Angelicae vocis consolatio:

non est hic, surrexit sicut praedixerat,

ite, nuntiate quia surrexit, dicentes:

Sanctarum mulierum ad omnem clerum modulatio:

alleluia! resurrexit Dominus hodie,

leo fortis, Christus filius Dei!

Deo gratias dicite, eia!

Dicat angelus:

venite et videte locum ubi positus erat Dominus,

alleluia! alleluia!

Iterum dicat angelus:

cito euntes dicite discipulis quia surrexit Dominus,

alleluia! alleluia!

Mulieres una voce canant iubilantes:

surrexit Dominus de sepulchro,

qui pro nobis pependit in ligno, alleluia!

_________________________________________

The Angel After Christ’s Resurrection

Whom seek ye in the sepulchre, O Christians?

Response of the Holy Women:

Jesus of Nazareth who was crucified, O heavenly one.

The Angel in a voice of consolation:

He is not here, he is risen as he fore-told.

Go, announce that he is risen, saying:

Chant of the Holdy Women:

Alleluia! The Lord is risen today,

The strong lion, Christ the son of God,

Unto God give thanks, eia!

Let the Angel say:

Come, and see the place where the Lord was laid.

Alleluia! Alleluia!

Let the Angel say again:

Go quickly, tell to the disciples that the Lord is risen.

Alleluia! Alleluia!

The women with one voice sing joyously:

The Lord is risen from the sepulchre,

Who for us was hanged on the cross, Alleluia!

(Translated by Edd Winfield Parks)

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Proving Oneself the New Peer

Posted on April 14, 2025 by Regina Jeffers

I had a recent question from a reader/writer about how after the death of the current peer was one made the new peer. Was it immediate? Is there a process or some sort of hearing. What must he prove to be the new peer?

This particular writer was asking about a nephew assuming the new peerage, as the peer had no male heirs, but the nephew being the son of the peer’s brother.

In such cases, there is very little delay or a contest. The  son of the second brother is immediately the peer, but he would generally wait until after the funeral to assume the title publicly. It is when a title can be inherited by a female and there are no direct descendants. like a daughter or granddaughter that contests arise that delays happen. Delays might also occur if the widow is pregnant or if there is doubt about the young man’s legitimacy.

For example, let us have a look at Lord Byron. “George Gordon Noel Byron was born, with a clubbed right foot, in London, on January 22, 1788. He was the son of Catherine Gordon of Gight, an impoverished Scots heiress, and Captain John (“Mad Jack”) Byron, a fortune-hunting widower with a daughter, Augusta. The profligate captain squandered his wife’s inheritance, was absent for the birth of his only son, and eventually decamped for France as an exile from English creditors, where he died in 1791 at age 36.

“With the death in 1798 of his great-uncle, the “Wicked” fifth Lord Byron, George became the sixth Baron Byron of Rochdale, heir to Newstead Abbey, the family seat in Nottinghamshire. He enjoyed the role of landed nobleman, proud of his coat of arms with its mermaid and chestnut horses surmounting the motto “Crede Byron” (“Trust Byron”).” [Poetry Foundation]

Lord Byron’s guardian, Lord Carlisle was ill when Byron turned 21. As mentioned above, Byron inherited at age ten from a great uncle. He thought he was being singled out to prove that his father and his mother were married before he was born, that his father was legitimate, and that his father was the son of a previous deceased baron, that the baron’s sons were all dead without legitimate male issue, and that any contenders were the sons of a son junior to John Byron. Byron gathered all the needed information– he had been the peer for 11 years by then, presented it and was accepted. He castigated Carlisle in one of his poems, but his half sister, Augusta, took him to task for this by letting him know that Carlisle had been ill. Not that the earl did much for the boy. Hanson the solicitor of Chancery handled the practical aspects of the guardianship, but either did not know enough to tell Byron that it was standard operating procedure or just forgot to.

The Hereditary Peer Association explains the official process of claiming a title. Here is the relevant portion of the reply:

The position up to the end of 1999 and the passing of the House of Lords Act 1999, was that on the death of any hereditary peer, his heir would have to prove to the Clerk of the Parliaments his right of succession by appropriate birth marriage and death certificates, and in some cases, affidavits to prove for example, that there was no better claimant. I think other evidence such as parish records can be used as often heirs outside the direct line have to search back many generations to prove their lineage and rights.

Having satisfied the Clerk, the new peer would receive a Writ of Summons to attend the House. The procedure for taking his seat was simply that he would alert the Clerk on the day he wished to take his seat before the start of the day’s business. At the opening of the day’s business, he would take a seat usually on the Bishops’ benches and after the opening prayers, the Clerk would call him to the despatch box where he would take the Oath of Allegiance, walk to the wool sack and shake the hand of the Lord Chancellor or his deputy if the latter was not present. He would then leave the Chamber to be greeted by representatives of the political parties in the Lobby. He would then declare his party allegiance if any and proceed to take a seat on the appropriate benches.

There was no more ceremony than that. Only newly created peers (now days exclusively Life Peers) endured, and still do, an introductory ceremony at which they and their two supporters, wear parliamentary robes over their ordinary suits, and carry Coked Hats which they doff the Lord Chancellor (now Speaker) and to the throne. They also take the Oath and shake hands with the Lord Chancellor or Speaker.

This latter ceremony has recently been simplified but has it origins some centuries ago. Sadly few peers have their own robes, either parliamentary or Coronation and mostly hire them from Ede & Ravenscroft. Coronets are only worn at a Coronation and as you note, only following the actual crowning of the new Monarch. I am fairly certain that a peer had to have received a Writ, sworn allegiance and taken his seat in the House of Lords in order to attend a Coronation. Sadly, there was no ceremony involved in inheriting a peerage, other than a consultation with a parliamentary tailor such as E&R.

According to Titles and Forms of Addresses: A Guide to Correct Usage, in the case of any inheritance it is customary for the new peer to be known as their previous style until after the funeral of the late peer. For instance, Mr. John Doe, the nephew of the Duke of Soandso, inherits, but continues to go by Mr. John Doe until after the funeral; this is the same for a direct heir as well. Also, while the heir takes on the title automatically upon confirmation of his claim, his siblings only gain their honorifics by favour of the Crown. So Mr. John Doe’s brothers and sisters would not be permitted to add “Lord” or “Lady” to his or her name until they apply for them and have it granted. The widow of the new peer’s father, however, is not entitled to a change in title because that honour only comes through the husband, who is dead. So Mr. John Doe’s mother does not become the (Dowager) Duchess of Soandso and is not entitled to apply for the favour from the Crown; she remains Mrs. Doe.

Sources:

Hereditary Peers

Hereditary Peers Removed

House of Lords Act 1999

The Last of the Hereditary Peers in the House of Lords

At the bend of the path, an unexpected meeting.
She is all May. He is December.
But loves knows not time.

Colonel Lord Andrew Whitmire has returned to England after spending fifteen years in service to his country. In truth, he would prefer to be anywhere but home. Before he departed England, his late wife, from an arranged marriage, had cuckolded him in a scandal that had set Society’s tongues wagging. His daughter, Matilda, who was reared by his father, enjoys calling him “Father” in the most annoying ways. Unfortunately, his future is the viscountcy, and Andrew knows his duty to both the title and his child. He imagines himself the last of his line until he encounters Miss Verity Coopersmith, the niece of his dearest friend, the man who had saved Andrew’s life at Waterloo. Miss Coopersmith sets Whitmire’s world spinning out of control. She is truly everything he did not know he required in his life. However, she is twenty-two years his junior, young enough to be his daughter, but all he can think is she is absolute perfection.

Purchase Links:

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Enjoy this scene from Chapter 5 of my Courting Lord Whitmire, where his lordship claims his peerage before the House of Lords. We view it through the heroine’s eyes.

When they learned at Lady Stephenson’s gathering that the Countess of Savidge had taken a fall earlier in the day and had cancelled her entertainment, Verity had convinced Matilda that they should return to Parliament and plead to be admitted to the gallery to view Lord Whitmire’s introduction to the House of Lords. 

“What if they turn us away?” Matilda had protested, the girl’s earlier bravado fading quickly before the pudding was set. 

“Then we will discover a tea room nearby and wait,” Verity had said without the exasperation she felt. All afternoon, Matilda had bemoaned not being able to join Robinson in the gallery, but now that Verity had suggested their doing so, Matilda wished Verity to beg or to insist, so the girl would not bear any of the blame, if Lord Whitmire disapproved. It was Matilda’s wish not to upset the delicate balance the girl and Lord Whitmire had achieved, but, on this particular day, Verity had no time, or desire, to coddle the child. “Do you not wish to view your father’s elevation?”

“Most assuredly, I would wish to observe the proceedings,” Matilda said softly. Her gaze remained steady, although her tone held unrelenting curiosity. “But I have heard it said only those women who hold exalted positions dare enter the gallery. Father may not be happy with our presence.” 

“Miss Ridenour again?” Verity questioned. She should have known the chit would say something to discourage Matilda from her desire to sit with Robinson in the gallery. 

She did not wait for the girl’s response; instead, Verity decided for them. She had considered Lord Whitmire’s possible disapproval before she had made her suggestion, but she refused to think of his lordship’s disdain when she had the opportunity to look upon him again, especially in such a life-defining moment. Not being a part of this event, even if it were from a distance, was not a choice she could consider. Although he did not recognize her total devotion to him, she wished to share the experience—wished to have the memory to cherish in her old age. Unfortunately for her badly bruised heart, her fascination with the man had not waned; rather, it had intensified the longer she remained in his company. “We shall ask, and, if refused, accept the tradition in which the ceremony is imbued.” 

And so, with heavy reprimands delivered toward them by a clerk for even asking for permission to enter the gallery, along with a generous donation to the man’s purse, she and Matilda had been hidden behind a heavy drape, where they might peer down upon the floor of the House of Lords. After what felt like forever, the House was called to order by the Lord Chancellor. A prayer followed, and Verity’s anticipation rose. She tugged Matilda closer, placing the girl before her, so they could share the small space. 

She explained in Matilda’s ear. “Black Rod, an officer of the Order of the Garter, has already escorted Lord Whitmire and your father’s retinue to the King of Arms, who will lead the trio into the main chamber. Just wait a minute, and they will appear where we can see them.” True to her narration, his lordship and the others appeared, but, for Verity, the thrill was in watching Andrew Whitmire. Looking upon him, she had never known a prouder moment. His countenance remained stern and respectful of the majesty of the ceremony, while also holding a hint of contentment. He was a man meant for the aristocracy—noble and strong. 

“Who is with Father?” Matilda asked softly, destroying the moment for Verity. 

Swallowing the sigh of exasperation rushing to her lips, Verity leaned closer to whisper once again. “According to tradition, his lordship must be escorted by two of his fellow viscounts. When Robinson goes through the ceremony, my brother will be accompanied by two barons. Lord Whitmire asked two of his former soldiers to serve him. Black Rod leads, followed by the Garter King. The peer in front of your father is the junior peer, Lord Franklin. The one behind Whitmire is Lord Lexford.” 

“How did you learn all this?” Matilda asked with what sounded to be a nervous giggle. 

Verity smiled easily, enjoying her confession before she spoke it. “I have the habit of overhearing what I should not. I listened as your father explained the process to Robinson.” Her smile grew. “Some day you will learn that men often think women have no brains to understand of what they speak. They sometimes treat the women in their lives as if they were a silent servant.” 

“They enjoy strutting their colors as much as would an actor upon a stage,” Matilda observed in hushed tones. Verity realized the girl meant the goings on in the Lords, but Matilda’s words fit many situations where men gathered.

“Or as much as a diamond of the first water in a ballroom,” Verity said with another smile. She pointed over Matilda’s shoulder to the area below. “Notice each peer wears a robe designed to indicate his rank. Also notice that the Garter King of Arms carries a silver gilt scepter in his right hand. In his left is the patent of creation for your father.” 

Matilda rose up on her toes and whispered, “Thank you for arranging this. I shall never forget your kindness. I did not think I would enjoy the spectacle of all this, but it is quite remarkable, is it not?” 

“Very remarkable, and it is my pleasure to share this with you,” Verity replied in all seriousness. 

She wished she could resist the pull and the push that always rested between her and Lord Whitmire. She was both perplexed and fascinated by the man. Her heart knew the deepest compassion when his long-time suffering, at no fault of his own, mind you, marked the lines about his mouth and his eyes. The manner of the conversations in which he partook displayed his quick wit and keen intellect. He was accustomed to giving orders and having them obeyed, but he was also one of the most reasonable men she had ever encountered. His lordship had a firm, stubborn nature, and Verity imagined they would have a regular stream of quarrels, followed by a round of passion, the type she had only read of in Minerva novels. She suspected he held the ability to sweep her off her feet, both, figuratively, and, literally, but he kept his desires rigidly under control. She both admired and despised him at the same time.

Carrying their cocked black hats in their left hands, the lords in the procession below reached the Bar of the House. Lord Whitmire carried his Writ of Summons in his right hand. They walked up the temporal side of the House. They bowed first to where the Sovereign would sit, if present, then to the table where the clerks sat, followed by a third bow to the Judges. 

“What now?” Matilda asked. Her excitement showed upon the girl’s face. 

“Your father will next approach the Lord Chancellor.” Verity waited, holding her breath until the Lord Chancellor raised his hat to acknowledge Lord Whitmire. “His lordship will kneel on one knee and present the letters patent of his creation to the Lord Chancellor. Once the Lord Chancellor accepts the patent on behalf of the King, he will hand it to the Reading Clerk to be read aloud to all the peers present.” 

Along with Matilda, Verity held her breath as she listened to the formalities and to his lordship’s resonant, distinct voice. Then, the oddest thought caught her by surprise: She did not simply admire Lord Andrew Whitmire; she loved him. She could not remove her eyes from where the man stood, tall and proud, even when she felt Matilda shift before her. She could no more control the sense of longing in her chest than she could stop the world from spinning on its axis. The air, what there was to be had in their hiding place, thickened. Her breathing grew short. 

“Verity?” Matilda’s voice held the girl’s concern. “Are you unwell? You are so pale. We should leave.” 

Verity quickly shook off the idea. “In a moment,” she assured. “The ceremony nears its conclusion.” She returned her attention to what she could view of the proceedings. When the Reading Clerk finished reading the Summons, Lord Whitmire read the Oath of Allegiance. His full-bodied orotund voice carried to the rafters. “Now your father will sign the Test Rolls.” 

As his lordship bent over the document to add his signature to a list that went back one hundred twenty-five years, Verity caught Matilda’s hand. “Now we may depart. The ceremony is essentially over. Next, your father will change out of the ceremonial constraints and assume his seat in the Lords. Therefore, we should leave before we are seen. We promised the clerk not to be a distraction.” She led the girl through a door and down a set of stairs the clerk had said were rarely used. “I think we should have his lordship’s carriage take us to Whitmire House. Then the driver can return for Lord Whitmire and Robinson. We have no idea how long your father and my brother must tarry before they can leave without being thought poorly of. We might discover ourselves dining alone this evening.” 

The door at the bottom of the stairs led to the outside and fresh air. Stepping into a small bricked circle, Verity inhaled deeply. She needed to clear her thinking. What was she to do? Without realizing it, she had given her heart to a man who would never love her. 

Posted in Act of Parliament, book excerpts, British history, eBooks, excerpt, Great Britain, history, laws of the land, Living in the Regency, peerage, real life tales, Regency era, Regency romance, research, romance, titles of aristocracy | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Proving Oneself the New Peer

The Cambridge Five: “We need people who could penetrate into the bourgeois institutions. Penetrate them for us!”

Posted on April 11, 2025 by Regina Jeffers

51T3CBEFG2L._SY445_.jpg If you are a great lover of all things British, as am I, you are likely familiar with the BBC2 mini-series, Cambridge Spies. It starred four of my personal favorites: Toby Stephens, Rupert Penry Jones, Tom Hollander, and Samuel West. Also, I adore Benedict Cumberbatch, Simon Woods, and David Savile in the cast. Cambridge Spies is a four-part BBC television drama, broadcast on BBC2 in May 2003, concerning the lives of the best-known quartet of the Cambridge Five Soviet spies, from 1934 to the 1951 defection of Guy Burgess and Donald Maclean to the Soviet Union. (Cambridge Spies)

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Anthony Blunt

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Guy Burgess

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Donald Maclean

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Kim Philby

The Cambridge Spy Ring passed information to the Soviet Union during World War II and was thought to be active until the early 1950s. The members were strong believers of communism being superior to capitalism. Four members of the ring were originally identified: Kim Philby (cryptonym: Stanley), Donald Duart Maclean (cryptonym: Homer), Guy Burgess (cryptonym: Hicks) and Anthony Blunt (cryptonyms: Tony and Johnson). The group supposedly operated during their years at Cambridge University.  Debate surrounds the exact timing of their recruitment by Soviet intelligence; Anthony Blunt claimed that they were not recruited as agents until they had graduated. Blunt, an Honorary Fellow at Trinity College was several years older than Burgess, Maclean, and Philby; he acted as a talent-spotter and recruiter for most of the group save Burgess. Both Blunt and Burgess were members of the Cambridge Apostles, an exclusive and prestigious society based at Trinity and King’s Colleges. John Cairncross, whose identity was not revealed until 1990, was the fifth member of the Five. (Cambridge Five) 

John_Cairncross.jpg Cairncross reportedly leaked details of the Bletchley Park facilities efforts at code-breaking, which permitted the Soviet Union to alter their codes to prevent the British group from discovering them. He also is known to have provided the Soviets with information on atomic weapons research, giving the Soviet efforts to set up their own nuclear program a boost. As a Soviet double agent, he passed to the Soviet Union the raw Tunny decrypts that influenced the Battle of Kursk.

According to a BBC News article from July 2014, “Among the thousands of pages of documents are profiles outlining the characteristics of Britons who spied for the Soviet Union. They include references to Donald Duart Maclean and Guy Burgess, two of the five men recruited while studying at the University of Cambridge during the 1930s. A short passage describes Burgess as a man ‘constantly under the influence of alcohol’. Written in Russian, it goes on to recount one occasion when Burgess drunkenly risked exposing his double identity. ‘Once on his way out of a pub, he managed to drop one of the files of documents he had taken from the Foreign Office on the pavement,’ translator Svetlana Lokhova explained. Moving on to Maclean, the note describes him as ‘not very good at keeping secrets’. It adds he was “constantly drunk” and binged on alcohol. It was believed he had told one of his lovers and his brother about his work as a Soviet agent while he was the worse for wear, the file adds. The notes also provide an insight into the extent of the group’s activity as they helped the KGB penetrate the UK’s intelligence network at the highest level. They describe how Burgess alone handed over 389 top secret documents to the KGB in the first six months of 1945 along with a further 168 in December 1949.”

 

Wish to Know More? Try Some of These Articles: 

MI5 and MI6 Cover-Up of Cambridge Spy Ring Laid Bare in Archive Papers. The Guardian

Newly released evidence on the Cambridge Spies reveals how, among other revelations, inaction and incompetence on the part of the authorities enabled Guy Burgess and Donald Maclean to make their escape to Moscow.   History Today: New Revelations on the Cambridge Spy Ring

The Cambridge Spy Ring and the Myth of an Upper-Class Cover Up. The Spectator 

The Cambridge Five.  International Spy Museum

First Person Singular: Cambridge Spies? The Truth is Far More Interesting. The Telegraph

 

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What the Heck Is “Abeyance” When Speaking of the English Aristocracy?

Posted on April 9, 2025 by Regina Jeffers

I am back again to ramble on about another issue of inheritance, this one has to do with “abeyance.”

Abeyance (from the Old French abeance meaning “gaping”) is a state of expectancy in respect of property, titles or office, when the right to them is not vested in any one person, but awaits the appearance or determination of the true owner. In law, the term abeyance can be applied only to such future estates as have not yet vested or possibly may not vest. For example, an estate is granted to A for life, with remainder to the heir of B. Following A’s death, if B is still alive, the remainder is in abeyance, for B has no heirs until B’s death. Similarly, the freehold of a benefice, on the death of the incumbent, is said to be in abeyance until the next incumbent takes possession. [Chisholm, Hugh, ed. (1911). “Abeyance“. Encyclopædia Britannica. Vol. 1 (11th ed.). Cambridge University Press. p. 61.]

Confused? Do not feel bad, for little about “abeyance” comes in layman’s terms. Let us see what we can do about it.

A man who supposedly inherited could simply refuse to take up the title or touch the money. Technically he would still be the title holder (baron, earl, viscount, etc.), but to have the full title and honors he must be confirmed before Parliament in the House of Lords, and all the legal stuff has to be completed to ensure he is the correct heir. He can simply not do that and not style himself by the title. It remains it place. It was not until 1963 that anyone could duck out of a title.

See my post from March 26, 2025, on the Procedure to Claim a Regency Title for more information.

For a good summary of what hereditary titles mean, choose this Wikipedia post – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hereditary_peer

The man could theoretically commit treason, in which case he and his family would be stripped of the title. Such would be an extreme measure, but there it is. If you do not understand this concept or want more information, have a look at my piece from February 12, 2025, on Corruption of the Blood (a term for treason).

The Duke of Windsor’s abdication was a very complicated legal process, and one Parliament allowed and had to handle legally due to the duke’s marrying a divorced woman, which actually made him unfit to be head of the Church of England, which is a job the King of England must take up (thank you, Henry XIII), and there are laws about the monarch’s marriages. Immediately after his abdication, upon which he was named the duke of Windsor by his brother Albert, now George VI, Edward left England to live on the European continent. Wallis Simpson’s divorce became final in May 1937, and she had her name changed legally to Mrs. Wallis Warfield. The terms of his continued receipt of a stipend were that he was effectively exiled from his homeland.

This is why there was also a stink over King Charles marrying Camilla–that had to be sorted out legally before Parliament. PRINCE CHARLES and Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall, faced a tricky legal situation over their civil marriage in 2005, when the Human Rights Act saved the day – but the Prince of Wales had previously voiced his strong opposition to the 2000 Act. 

Now, back to the question at hand. The man does not need to send in the writ of summons to the House of Lords, and he can refuse to use the title, but someone must oversee the care for the property, and no one else can have the title while he is alive.

The man could, theoretically, have the title’s Letters Patent amended by an Act of Parliament. If the earldom is Scottish, he could even leave the line of descent unspecified and have Parliament determine the course of inheritance. I have seen this done in several novel, but please know one should research the heck out of all the probabilities before proceeding. The two most famous examples of amending Letters were the Dukedom of Marlborough in 1706 and the Duke of Windsor in 1936.

When the Earl of Berkley died his oldest son applied for a writ of summons to the House of Lords. The Committee on  Privilege turned the young man down and said he and the other brothers born before 1795 were illegitimate and that the earldom would fall to the 16-year-old who was born in 1796. The boy was too young to do anything about the matter, and his oldest brother and mother ran things. When he came of age, he still never put forth a claim to the earldom. However, he was, by right and law, the earl so anything requiring the signature of the earl had to be signed by him. He signed responsibility over to his oldest brother. but the title itself went dormant until the youngest son died.

Somewhere around 1945, men succeeding to a peerage were allowed to disclaim it. If it went dormant during his life time, no one else could assume it. This was done mainly by men who had political power in the House of Commons and did not want to give it up. [See my April 4, 2025, piece on Heirs in the House of Commons for more information.]

The current Duke of  Marlborough can not passover his heir for a more somber younger son. The heir can not be disinherited. If there is a living person who is next in line, the succession cannot be changed. Earlier the  descent of the dukedom was changed because the Duke had no living son and there was slight chance of his having one. The succession was changed to allow his daughters to assume the title and then their sons. This was  during the duke’s life time and was an exception to a general rule. A man who is living and the lawful successor can not have it taken from him except by being convicted of a crime. During the Regency there was no way to disclaim a peerage except by not using it and not sending in a request for a seat in the House of  Lords.

One case of avoiding abeyance occurred back in the beginning because he was too poor.  However, that was never repeated. One had to be convicted of a felony and sentenced to death.  Then there was  attainder and corruption of the blood.  The title wasn’t  actually lost, in most cases, because  he kept it as long as he kept his head. 

Wikipedia provides us a somewhat unreliable and not so thorough list as we might hope, but I thought to share it so you might see the extent of how long some titles have been in abeyance:

Once a man was seated in the House of Lords under a title, the Lords would not take it back. Neither was he able to disclaim it.

If he committed suicide, nothing happened to the title. The son inherited as usual. It would be a rare man of the Georgian era who did not want a title just because his father had disgraced it. He did not have to claim it, but he could not sit in the House of Lords. He could change his name either by signing manual, a deed poll, or just by doing it. However, those were extreme measures, and he would be compounding the failure of his father by not attending to the estate, the workers, the servants, etc., and all the others who depended on the family in one way or another.

Question: Is it possible for all lands to be lost save to pay debts? Or did lands always have to remain with the title?

The answer depends on how the lands were acquired and what deeds, settlements, or entails controlled their disposition. While all of a man’s property could be sold to cover debts, entailed properties and hereditments and such came under a special provision. There were special rules pertaining to peers and debts. Land did not always go with the title, though the family seat was usually tied to it. Titles and property could go in different directions and often did.

Question: In earlier times, the hero of such a situation would not have had a choice. If his father committed treason, the title, lands, etc., EVERYTHING was forfeitted. The family would have nothing. Was this still true in the Regency?

Yes. That was true long after all the other “older” (like beheading, etc.) punishments were discarded. If the father committed treason, the son would not have a choice of accepting the title because there would not be one for him to accept.

Do not quote me on this part, but I think those owed money by the father would be out of luck as well because the son would inherit nothing. NO one would inherit anything. It is doubtful whether the widow would even have a jointure or income unless her husband had been barred from anything except the income from her dowry, which would return to her on his death.I n the case of treason, some sons did change their names and go off to the new world. However, most tried to stay alive and waited and then put in a petition for the restoration of titles and lands. Sometimes it did not come until a grandson made the petition. The title could be lost if the man committed murder. [Note: That scenario is part of the plot of my novel, The Heartless Earl.]

Posted in Act of Parliament, aristocracy, British history, customs and tradiitons, England, Georgian England, Georgian Era, history, Inheritance, laws of the land, Regency era | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Orphans and Orphanages in Late Georgian England

Posted on April 7, 2025 by Regina Jeffers

I had a recent question regarding what I knew about the conditions inside of orphanages during the Regency and Georgian eras. Below is a mash of all the tidbits I had accumulated on the subject. I have attempted to organize them in some order, but as I am currently recovering from cancer surgery and have a large patch over part of my face, maybe it is not as organized as I hoped. (Note: I wrote this in December 2024, not April 2025.)

All orphanages/foundling homes seem to be run privately as schools. I think the best descriptor I have is with Jane Eyre’s Lowood School, but I have not been able to find any first personal accounts of anyone who attended a school or orphanage such as this in either the Victorian or Regency era. Either I’m a terrible researcher or I’m looking in all the wrong places.

There are official reports by various boards and charitable organizations about the conditions. I have spoken previously about Charitable Organizations During the Regency. This post includes a long list of actual charitable organizations during the late Georgian and early Victorian eras.

Philanthropy in the 19th century was based on religious tradition that was centuries in the making.  Historically, wealthy people in society gave to the poor as a Christian duty. Charity was seen as a way of saving one’s own soul while also helping those in need. Protestants, especially those with strong evangelical leanings, believed that social conscience demanded social action. They held that by coming into contact with human nature, particularly with those in need, that they were able to come in contact with Christ.

Women, in particular, especially those in the middle class, stepped up to the task, but, not always for the reasons one might expect. Certainly, charity was an admirable trait. However, “working outside the home,” even in a charitable manner, provided these women a sense of worth beyond tending to their husband’s homes. Charitable work seemed to be an extension of their “natural” maternal instincts, but it also allowed women to meet and socialize with other women of like minds and education, opening them up to new experiences and ideas

I do not know of any first person narrative regarding the conditions within the orphanages because most were not educated to the level where they could write such.

There is plenty on line about the work houses. The orphanages were often for children of clergymen, sailors, or army men. So many children in the institutions were actually illegitimate and suffered the sins of the fathers and mothers being put on the children.

Each one of these would have a board of governors and be run by their own laws and rules. There were hundreds of schools which were neither registered nor regulated. These ranged from day schools to boarding schools with many masters (mistresses) and  expenses.

There was no requirement that children go to school nor any requirements of what they should be taught.

The better schools for boys prepared them for Eton, Harrow and such.

There were cathedral choir schools.

From what I understand, the infant mortality rate in orphanages was very high. From our perspective now, where we have noted and understood “failure to thrive,” we can see that the care given in a charity orphanage would likely be lacking in the individual attention, like cuddling babies, so even if their basic survival needs were met, many of them would have died.

Another thing is that children were pushed out of orphanages at an early age and either sent into domestic service or to apprenticeships. Dickens’s stories speak to this situation, but that was much later than the Regency era.

A book that was recommended to me was Rose Ayer’s The Street Sparrows. Again, it is set in 19th C London, but not necessarily the Georgian era. It is more the Victorian experience, but many appear to love this book, if you are interested. Two orphans in 19th-century London lead a precarious existence trying to earn their living any way they can.

It was fairly common early in the Industrial Era to sweep orphans off the streets in cities and put them to work in the mills. Their experience there varied from desperate to just very rough, though a few mill owners had some schooling for the children employed there. Again, though, their life expectancy was not very high.

Children were sent to work in mills and mines or on farms as young as seven. Some chimney sweeps had boys younger than that. Orphan girls were taught domestic tasks and were sent off to be maids. Some 12 year olds were maids of all work. Though not known to be widespread, some of the girls were also regularly raped. Most children of the laboring class had little schooling  They certainly would not be writing memoirs. Now, sometimes a child was fortunate to fall in with a good family who was likely to treat the child as their own. Some one might educate a boy and have him trained up for their business, the church or the law–but that person would not be one to wrote about the conditions of the orphanage.

My late friend Lindsay Downs wrote a piece in 2014 for the English Historical Fiction Authors website, for he had written about a chimney sweep in his book Swept Away. I thought you might find what he had to say interesting:

“During the Regency period, there wasn’t adoption as we know it today. In England, this didn’t come about until the 1920’s.

“If the head of a household brought an orphan in but left no provisions for the child in his will, the new head had no obligation to continue the care. If the head did have unentitled property that could be left to the child in the will, it was probably with conditions until adulthood was reached.

“Another option would be to have a family in the village take the orphan in. This is what I did with my character. Depending on the needs of the family, the child might become a scullery maid or if taken in by a farmer, might become additional help. These are a few of the best possible options for these waifs.

“Another, and better, choice would be that a childless couple might take in a relative’s children. Here, through a provision in the will, the orphan would be able to inherit on the passing of their foster parents. This was not necessarily required of the new parents.

“When the child didn’t find a home with family or friends, they were turned over to the parish. Here an orphan could be contracted to a master under certain conditions. The pact gave control over the child to their, for lack of a better word, owner who was required to feed, clothe, and care for the boy or girl, and apprentice them in a trade. Sometimes the new master might not be as scrupulous as was thought, and he would force the child into dangerous work situations. One which comes to mind is a chimney sweep’s apprentice where they could easily die if care was not taken.”

Posted in British history, Georgian England, Georgian Era, history, Living in the Regency, real life tales, Regency era | Tagged , , , , , | Comments Off on Orphans and Orphanages in Late Georgian England

Did Heirs to a Title Ever Enter the Commons Before Succeeding? Answering a Reader’s Questions…

Posted on April 4, 2025 by Regina Jeffers

I am again attempting to answer a variety of questions from a reader on peerages. So, here goes…

Question: I have a question about politics circa 1812. I am constructing my character development fir a story line, and my hero is the son of an earl who hearty and healthy. Therefore, the son is not likely to inherit any time soon. While he holds an honorary title, there is no political privilege associated with that, I assume. 

My hero is an ambitious sort, I planned to write him as having political aspirations.

First Part of my response: You must remember that unlike here in the U.S. there were not elections every four years. “The 1812 United Kingdom general election was the fourth general election after the Union of Great Britain and Ireland, held on 5 October 1812 to 10 November 1812, taking place at the height of the Napoleonic Wars.

“The fourth United Kingdom Parliament was dissolved on 29 September 1812, four months after the Earl of Liverpool succeeded to the premiership following the assassination of Spencer Perceval. The new Parliament was summoned to meet on 24 November 1812, for a maximum seven-year term from that date. The maximum term could be and normally was curtailed, by the monarch dissolving the Parliament, before its term expired.”

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1812_United_Kingdom_general_election

Question #2: Would a man in his mid twenties have run/been elected to Parliament? Would there have been another way he could have participated in politics without being in the House of Commons? I know there must be reference material out there, just finding abbreviated information thus far.

Response: As the son of an earl, he would not normally enter a mp (member of Parliament) race in 1812 as the House of Lords held more power than it does today. If he is the eldest son, he will inherit his father’s seat in the House of Lords.  He could lend his support very visibly to a cause or a party or a candidate, serve in the diplomatic corps and eventually become an ambassador.  There was a lot of behind the scenes business at Whitehall, and it was not unusual for a peer to work there in the diplomatic offices, etc. Most of the oversight committees (for want of a better description) for the war effort were housed there. Nepotism was alive and well during the Regency.

Question #3: Would a man in his mid twenties have run/been elected to Parliament? Would there have been another way he could have participated in politics without being in the House of Commons?

Response: Absolutely. The lords often controlled many house seats – these were called “pocket buroughs” because they were in the peer’s pocket. So the landlord wanted “his guys” in there, whether they were sons — to allow them time to earn experience to become powerhouses in the Lords later on — or just yes-men. However, that being said, a son did not need to gain his experience by actually holding a seat. He could be appointed to a deputy position in any one of the Cabinet departments. The Exchequer was particularly desirable – nice and close to the money. People became very rich in that department. Sometimes, mysteriously so! The one I am not confident about (I would need to check with my military expert) is the Admiralty. I am not assured if civilians were acceptable on staff there or if they had to have military rank. Of course, for a son of an earl, that might easily be a small matter of purchasing a plum commission.

The  secretary of the admiralty was often a peer. Earl Spencer held a position as Secretary of the Navy under Queen Victoria.

“Vice-Admiral Frederick Spencer, 4th Earl Spencer, (14 April 1798 – 27 December 1857), styled The Honourable Frederick Spencer until 1845, was a British naval commander, courtier, and Whig politician. He initially served in the Royal Navy and fought in the Napoleonic Wars and the Greek War of Independence, eventually rising to the rank of Vice-Admiral. He succeeded his elder brother as Earl Spencer in 1845 and held political office as Lord Chamberlain of the Household between 1846 and 1848 and as Lord Steward of the Household between 1854 and 1857. In 1849 he was made a Knight of the Garter.”

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frederick_Spencer,_4th_Earl_Spencer

Question #4: I’m seeing examples of a member of the House of Commons moving to the House of Lords as he inherits a seat, but now I’m wondering if anyone fills his vacancy.

Response: Yes, they must hold a by election.

There were some by-elections when a man died or succeeded to a peerage. 

The young man’s father or his uncle or his mother’s brother or his mother’s uncle probably had a borough under his control. There were quite a few of these in Cornwall alone. These rotten boroughs were safe seats for sprigs of the aristocracy.

Earl Spencer sent his oldest son into politics  in the House of Commons. The father could be on some committees and hire the son to be a clerk.

Some young men preferred learning to manage the estates to playing politics.

Question #5: Was not William Pitt very young?

Response: “William Pitt was born on 28 May 1759 in Kent, the son of the earl of Chatham (William Pitt the Elder), himself a famous statesman. Pitt studied at Cambridge University, graduating when he was 17. In early 1781, he was elected to parliament aged 21. In 1782, he became chancellor of the exchequer. The following years were marked by the battle between George III and the radical Charles Fox, whom the king detested. Matters deteriorated when Fox forged an alliance with the previously loyal Lord North. The two men defeated the government and George was forced to ask them to take control. Fox became Pitt’s lifelong political rival.

“In December 1783, George III dismissed their coalition and asked Pitt to form a government. He was, at 24, the youngest man to become prime minister. He was immediately defeated in parliament but refused to resign. George III was prepared to abdicate rather than let Fox in again. In 1784, parliament was dissolved for a general election, which Pitt won. His government worked to restore public finances, severely strained by the cost of the American War of Independece and later by war with France. Pitt imposed new taxes – including Britain’s first income tax – and reduced both smuggling and frauds. He also simplified customs and excise duties.” [BBC History]

Question #6: Would he be geographically restricted in running for a seat? Like Congress?

Response: No. They were not restricted to the county in which they lived.

Unless one is dead or is made a peer, one can not resign from the House of Commons. One had to say one was taking the “Chiltern Hundreds” to resign from the House of Commons between elections. 

First off, a seat in the House of Commons was a lifetime position, and there were MPs who found themselves therein against their will and until the early 1700s, they could not resign.

Things changed in 1701with the Act of Settlement (and some subsequent legislation) which made it illegal for any MP who accepted an office of the Crown for profit to remain in the House of Commons. I think it was John Pitt who first used this mechanism to resign – ie taking the Chiltern Hundreds.  

The Chiltern Hundreds refers to the three ‘hundreds’ (administrative areas in Buckinghamshire) of Burnham, Desborough and Stoke. These ‘hundreds’ (the whole country was divided into ‘hundreds’ for administrative purposes), are located around the geographical area known as the Chiltern Hills. Note that only Desborough was actually in the Chiltern Hills. Anyway, the Crown office for profit involved in the Chiltern Hills instance was the (by then) nominal post of Crown Steward and Bailiff of the three Chiltern Hundreds of Stoke, Desborough and Burnham. But at this time, an MP could also resign from the House of Commons if he was given the Stewardship of the Manor of Old Shoreham (about a dozen MPs used this one in the latter half of the 18th century), and in the mid 19th century, the Stewardship of the Manor of Hempholme was used, as have a number of  offer Crown offices from time to time. 

And it was John Peel, not John Pitt who first used the new legislation (and the other significant piece of legislation was the Place Act of 1742.

A ‘Parliament’ refers to the full term served by an elected government (after a national election to fill all seats in the House of Commons).  

A new Parliament does not commence if a sitting member dies (or a member succeeds to a title and leaves the House of Commons to take his seat in the House of Lords). In those cases, a by-election is held to fill the casual vacancy, but it does not ‘re-start’ the life or term of the Parliament.  

The key thing in all this is that the Parliament (UK and Australia) lives and dies by the election of a majority government (lower house) led by a Prime Minister (also seated in the lower house). If the Parliament does not serve out the full term (eg: the 1974 dismissal of Whitlam and his government, or the PM choosing to go to the polls early, which a PM can and frequently does choose to do), that reduced term is still referred to as the ‘life’ of that particular Parliament.

There is nothing to stop your hero from deciding not to contest the seat at the general elections. He just cannot resign the seat while the Parliament is serving its term – ie: between the start of the term and the end of the term when the next general elections are held.

Courtesy  peers and Irish peers had seats in the House of Commons, so the roster is sprinkled with Lords. The number of those who could vote was small. Elections were not secret. There was more secrecy about voting for new members for White’s than there was in voting for an MP. The other term for “pocket boroughs” was “rotten boroughs.

Brittanica defines pocket borough, as an “election district that is controlled by, or “in the pocket” of, one person or family. The term was used by 19th-century English parliamentary reformers to describe the many boroughs in which a relatively small population was either bribed or coerced by the leading family or landowners to elect their representatives to Parliament. As a result, Parliament was controlled by the landed gentry and seats were filled by representatives who wanted to please their patrons rather than their constituents. Reforms passed in 1832 and 1867 ended this practice by widening the franchise and redistributing parliamentary seats to reflect the population shift from rural areas to the industrial towns.”

All that being said, heirs to titles did enter the Commons, and they did so for a variety of reasons. Some were coerced by their fathers to further their fathers’ interests (eg: in the case of the rotten boroughs), and some were forced to take a seat in the Commons in the hope they might develop more responsible ways or behaviours their fathers deemed more fitting in an heir to the title. Others went into the Commons of their own free will, usually because they were keen to enter the political world and become an influencer. A peer who had political goals could gain much ground and attention from those in the Lords through his performance in the Commons and thereby enhance his standing in the Lords when he did enter that House. 

Posted in Act of Parliament, aristocracy, British history, estates, family, Georgian England, Georgian Era, Great Britain, history, Inheritance, laws of the land, Living in the Regency, Napoleonic Wars, Regency era, research, Victorian era | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Did Heirs to a Title Ever Enter the Commons Before Succeeding? Answering a Reader’s Questions…

Who the Heck was the Lord Lieutenant of the County in Regency Times?

Posted on April 2, 2025 by Regina Jeffers

Question from a Reader: Who or what does the term “Lord Lieutenant of the County” mean?

Answer: Simply speaking, the Lord-Lieutenant represents His Majesty The King or Her Majesty The Queen in his respective county/shire. They were not just in the Georgian era.

The banner flown by lord-lieutenants. ~ Public Domain via Wikipedia

“The office of the Lord-Lieutenant, the permanent representative of The Crown in a county, dates from Tudor times. Its holder was originally concerned mainly with supporting the monarch, protecting the county, being responsible for maintenance of order and for defence through the county militia. The first Lord-Lieutenants were appointed by King Henry VIII in the 1540s. The King was concerned about invasion from England’s enemies, which included at various times Scotland, France and Spain. He appointed Lord-Lieutenants in the counties who could raise and be responsible for militia within their respective counties. The militia not only included standing armies but also yeomen and volunteers.

“The title ‘lieutenant’ originated during the time of Henry VIII; the Lord-Lieutenant’s role was literally to ‘stand in for’ The King, in the battlefield and elsewhere. Important parts of the role were to act as an unpaid recruiting sergeant for The King and to play a major part in keeping law and order by both appointing and managing magistrates. The Lord-Lieutenant was also responsible for looking after state documents in their county and informing The King of what was going on.

“The fact that throughout 150 years the role was dominated by military men and in Oxfordshire by the Dukes of Marlborough says much about what was long thought to be an appropriate CV. In the 18th century, all but one Lord-Lieutenant was a peer and in the 19th century all were peers. Today, and with a changed role, Lord-Lieutenants are increasingly drawn from a widening variety of different backgrounds.” [Oxfordshire County Council]

In Regency stories, we often refer to the Lord Lieutenant when speaking of the militia and its oversight. I have done so in regarding to Mr. George Wickham’s antics in several of my Austen-inspired books. The Lord Lieutenant oversaw the militia of the county and was responsible for calling out the militia in cases of riot.

There are a couple of references with which I am familiar which might help a person find what he/she seeks regarding the role of Lord Lieutenant.

The first is The New British Traveller by James Dugdale. Though it was sold as a “travel” book, it is presented county by county and includes information about each local government. It was published as a four volume set in 1819, but the author had spent a number of years compiling it. And, governments change very slowly, so the details provided for Herefordshire or Hertfordshire or Oxfordshire, etc., should be fairly accurate for the Regency period.

One may find a review of the book at  https://regencyredingote.wordpress.com/2014/01/03/the-new-british-traveller-by-james-dugdale/

This particular post also includes a link to a page on the Internet Archive where a person can download all four volumes in digital format. Fortunately, it was NOT scanned by Google, so the pages are all clean and legible.

Each town, borough village had its own governing body. The civic parish was often the same as the church parish and was often governed by the same group of men. The county was administered by the justices at the Quarter sessions, and the Lord Lieutenant of the county and the man in charge of the court rolls who was often the same man. The Lord Lieutenant was most often a high ranking peer. He had to approve and recommend the local JP’s or Justice of the Peace, who was a person holding a commission from the Crown to exercise certain judicial functions for a particular commission area. JPs are appointed on behalf of and in the name of the Queen/King by the Lord Chancellor and may be removed from office in the same way. (JP’s were appointed to serve in a specific county)

There is a  book about the Lord Lieutenants. He could be mayor of a town, but the way most got involved was as a JP and then in attending Quarter Sessions.

Posted in British history, Georgian England, Georgian Era, Great Britain, history, laws of the land, Living in the Regency, Living in the UK, military, peerage, reading, real life tales, Regency era, research | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments