The Herald’s Christmas Pudding

 The Herald’s Christmas Pudding

By Adrian de Redman, HonFHS

The following article first appeared in the Coat of Arms, Winter 1991 Edition. It is reprinted here with the permission of the author, as a bit of fun before Christmas. We hope you enjoy it.

Once upon a time there was a very scholarly and kindly herald called Sir Ponsonby Mergatroyd. He was also a little bit forgetful, but he was best known because he owned a motor car that could jump over walls. It was a beautiful and very comfortable car called a Bentley, but that is another story. Now then, our herald was one of the senior Royal Heralds, what is called a King of Arms. This meant he was always kept very busy. As he was so kind and such a learned chap, people were always asking him for help and advice. 

One Christmas Eve he had been so busy, signing important letters and drinking port, that he had completely forgotten to buy The Christmas Pudding. His wife had told him that without The Pudding there would not be a Christmas. Long after all the others had gone home he looked up from his desk and noticed the time. It was nearly half-past eight! Suddenly he remembered The Pudding and rushed out to his motor car. It would not start. In a panic he leaped from his beloved Bentley intending to rush off on foot. Unfortunately the key was stuck fast in the door lock. About to utter a bellow of rage and frustration he looked up at one of the windows of his chambers, and saw someone waving at him to come up. His blood ran cold as, looking about the courtyard, he remembered that he was utterly alone in the building. Even the porter was away. Sir Ponsonby looked back at the window. There was no-one there. The key came smoothly out of the lock. As he climbed the stairs to his chambers he felt colder and colder. The wretched fellow, or had it been a woman, had opened the window, and yet it had seemed closed from below.

As Sir Ponsonby Mergatroyd opened the door to his chambers two things seemed almost overpowering. The cold, and the most delicious smell of Christmas Pudding. There in the middle of the floor was an enormous round Christmas Pudding. Rushing to it with a sigh of relief, he forgot the cold when the telephone rang. Sir Ponsonby scooped up the pudding as he passed on the way to the telephone. He knew who would be on the other end of the line.

It took Sir Ponsonby Mergatroyd nearly ten minutes to calm his wife. No he hadn't forgotten the pudding, it was with him, no he hadn't forgotten the visitors but Something had Come Up, yes on Christmas Eve. He would be home as soon as possible but the car was playing about. Yes, yes, he was always being told to get a new one but he loved his Bentley, it was an old friend, almost part of the family... By the time his wife rang off Sir Ponsonby's head was swimming. 

Reaching for the Pudding Sir Ponsonby saw, in the corner of his eye, a movement. He looked and saw someone he knew but could not place.Standing in the darkened doorway the visitor smiled and bade him enjoy The Christmas Pudding. Glancing at the gift as he rose to greet the visitor Sir Ponsonby tried to think how on earth this pleasant old gentleman, who looked so familiar, had got in. When he looked back he was alone. Again Sir Ponsonby noticed the cold and shivered. Walking quietly to the door the herald listened; silence except for the winter creakings of an old building. Overwork; perhaps his wife was right and he needed a holiday. Looking down the stairs, again Sir Ponsonby noticed the smell of Christmas Pudding but this time it was not so cold. He went back for The Christmas Pudding.

Downstairs, as Sir Ponsonby walked through the Earl Marshal's Court he glanced at his favourite portrait, one of a pale rather thin old gentleman who had been a herald over a hundred years before. To Sir Ponsonby's absolute amazement he recognised his mysterious visitor. The old gent smiled from the picture and winked at Sir Ponsonby. Dumbstruck he stared back. It was far worse than he had thought, he must take a holiday. Sir Ponsonby locked up carefully and drove home slowly in his wall-climbing motor car.

When he reached home Sir Ponsonby told his wife everything that had happened. No one knows if Lady Mergatroyd believed him but we do know that every year a large aromatic Christmas Pudding is carried out of Her Majesty's College of Arms by the last herald to leave on Christmas Eve.

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Merry Christmas to you all, from all at The Heraldry Society.