Uncle George might land a job as a herald at the College of Arms in London.
“I was not unsuitable for the job, for as well as the loyal sentiments which I have described, I knew as much as most young people, if not indeed a great deal more, about a herald’s subjects, such as history and armory and the traceability of families, as well as the complicated system of British titles.I was taught these things from infancy by my mother, who was herself a competent armorist and genealogist. Besides, my “background” was adequately respectable: my family could be identified in Ireland. What more could anyone really want?
When by chance I had heard that there was a vacancy in the College of Arms, I sought and was granted an interview with the then Garter King of Arms, Sir Henry Burke, a herald of the highest distinction, though at that time somewhat advanced in years. When I was admitted to his presence he seemed puzzled at first as to why I had come. Then, after asking me a few polite questions in the kindest of voices, he murmured pleasantly that he had much to do that afternoon and showed me to the door.
A few days later, however, I was told that my next step was to wait upon the Deputy Earl Marshal of England, Viscount FitzAlan of Derwent. Lord FitzAlan was the Duke of Norfolk’s uncle and was deputy to his nephew, who was actually Earl Marshal but at that time only 14 years of age.
Lord FitzAlan was what I had half expected. He wore a frock coat, a wing collar, with a cravat and a modest tie-pin, was aged about 65 and, though he looked forbidding, turned out to be kind and courteous. He was a veteran soldier and much respected statesman, and his speech was incisive.
“You Buldoo’s nephew?” he enquired gruffly but with traces of a smile, to which I replied, “Yes sir, he’s my uncle”.
“Buldoo”, I should explain, was an extraordinarily popular figure in the late Victorian army who, besides being witty and entertaining, and therefore much admired by his brother-officers, and by the ladies too, was also a rider of horses and polo ponies almost without equal. He became a close friend of King Edward VII’s eldest son, the Duke of Clarence (known as Prince Eddie), who used to stay at Jenkinstown sometimes but who was disapproved of for being a “rip’ by his more exemplary younger brother, Prince George, Duke of York, who eventually became King George V because of Prince Eddie’s premature demise, which unfortunately put an end to what looked like a promising future for Buldoo and his relations.
Buldoo, who got his nick-name from the difficulty people in distant lands had in pronouncing his surname, Bellew, had many other friends of note and amongst them was the young Lord Glamis, laird-to-be of Glamis Castle. Everybody knew at that time, in the late 1800s, that Glamis Castle was haunted by a terrifying ghost and though no one seemed to know exactly what it was, many spine-chilling stories were told about it.
Buldoo naturally asked the heir to Glamis to tell him the truth about his famous family ghost and the young Scotsman replied that of course he would. “I promise to tell you all about it as soon as I come of age,” he said, “but until then I know no more about it than you do.”
Some time later, when his friend and come of age, Buldoo reminded him about his promise and Lord Glamis, suddenly very grave and serious, replied, “I fear I must ask you to release me from my promise, and never under any circumstances to mention the subject to me again.” So that was that!
These brief conversations, or something very like them, were duly related by Buldoo to his younger brother, my father, who passed them on to me.
There is not much point in this digression, I agree, except perhaps to show that those who knew the truth about the ghost were apparently even more scared than those who did not. Let us return to my interview with Lord FitzAlan, the Deputy Earl Marshal.
“D’yer ride? fond of horses?” he asked. Before I could reply he said, “Buldoo’s a great rider to hounds. Hunt?”
I had ridden, I did not dislike horses and I had occasionally been to Meets, so I was able to make a suitable reply. His lordship then reminisced amiably for a few minutes more, chiefly about Buldoo and horses, and intimated that he would put my name forward to the King, and the interview was over.
That took place over 60 years ago … ”
Very interesting. Presumably Lord FitzAlan had just stepped down from being the last Viceroy of Ireland, and would have been inclined to favour George Bellew not only for his uncle but also because they both came from old families which had never renounced their Roman Catholicism.