It must not be imagined that the heralds were created merely for the purpose of acting as puppets in the pageantry of the court and the camp: they had other and more useful functions to perform. The genealogies of noble and gentle families were intrusted to their keeping, and thus titular honours and territorial possessions were safely conveyed to lawful heirs, when, in the absence of proper officers, and a recognized depository for documents, much confusion might have been produced by disputed claims. The ecclesiastics had formerly been the chief conservators of genealogical facts, but at the dissolution of the monasteries by Henry VIII, the documents containing them were scattered to the winds. Hence it became necessary to adopt some more general and better regulated means of collecting and transmitting to posterity the materials of genealogy, and out of this necessity sprang those ‘progresses’ of the kings of arms and heralds through the various counties, called Visitations. Some faint traces of these visitations occur, it is true, before the Reformation, and even before the incorporation of the heralds, namely, as early as 1412; but it was not until 1528 that they were systematically attended to.[260] After the latter date they were continued about once in every generation, or at intervals varying between twenty-five and forty years. The officers, under the warrant of the earl-marshal, were bound to make inquisitions respecting the pedigree of every family claiming the honour of gentry, and to enter the names, titles, places of abode, &c. in a book. Many such books, between the date just referred to and the year 1687, are now existing in the College of Arms, while many copies of them, and a few of the originals, are in the British Museum and in private collections. To most of the pedigrees thus entered were attached the family arms, which received the confirmation of the ‘kings’ when satisfactory evidence of the bearer’s right to them could be adduced.[261] When a family from any circumstance did not bear arms, a coat was readily granted by the kings, who received fees proportioned to the rank of the parties; for example:

A bishop paid £10.

A dean £6 13s. 4d.

A gentleman of 100 marks per annum, in land, £6 13s. 4d.

A gentleman of inferior revenue £6.

The passion for emblazoning the arms of the nobility and gentry upon glass, in the windows of churches and halls, imposed considerable employment, and brought no small emolument, to the officers of arms, who undertook to marshal and arrange them, as well as often to draw up short pedigrees of such families, which were set forth in the gloomy chancel or the sombre hall of the long-descended patron or lord of the mansion, exemplified with the shield rich in quarterings.[262]

Henry VIII was a great admirer of the “pomp and circumstance” of chivalry. During his reign the College was in high estimation and full employment. At home and abroad he was constantly attended by his heralds, some of whom were often despatched to foreign courts, to assist in negociations, to declare war, to accompany armies, to summon garrisons, to deliver the ensign of the order of St. George (the Garter) to foreign potentates, to attend banquets, jousts, and tournaments, and to serve upon every great occasion of state. “There was nothing performed,” says Noble,[263] “of a public nature, but what the heralds were employed in.”

The history of this reign teems with curious anecdotes touching the dignity and prerogatives of the heralds. So great was the regard entertained by the ‘bluff’ monarch for the officers of arms, that he treated even those of foreign sovereigns, who came to his court to deliver hostile messages, with all the courtesy inculcated by the laws of chivalry, and even gave them bountiful largesses. For example, when in 1513 ‘Lord Lyon, King at Arms,’ came to him at Tours upon an errand of a very disagreeable character from the Scottish court, his majesty sent Garter with him to his tent, commanding him to give him ‘good cheer;’ and when his reply to the message was framed he dismissed him courteously, with a gift of one hundred angels.[264] Although the persons of the heralds, in their ambassadorial capacity, were generally regarded as sacred, they sometimes received very rough treatment from desperate enemies. On one occasion, Ponde, Somerset herald, going to Scotland with a message to James V, was slain in his tabard—a violation of the laws of honour which was only compensated by the death of the bailiff of Lowth and two others, who were publicly executed at Tyburn in the summer of 1543.

“It is singular,” says Noble, “that in this reign it was usual to give to pieces of ordnance the same names as those appropriated to the members of the college; names, we must presume, dear to the sovereign and cherished by the people.”[265]

At the Field of the Cloth of Gold, in 1520, the heraldic corporation attended in magnificent array. It then consisted of the following members: