Cape & Cloak

Cape (pronounced keyp)

(1) A sleeveless garment of various lengths, fastened around the neck and falling loosely from the shoulders, worn separately or attached to a coat or other outer garment.

(2) The capa of a bullfighter.

(3) The act of caping.

(4) Of a matador or capeador during a bullfight, to induce and guide the charge of a bull by flourishing a capa.

(5) A piece of land jutting into the sea or some other large body of water; a headland or promontory

(6) In nautical use, of a ship said to have good steering qualities or to head or point; to keep a course.

(7) As The Cape (always initial capital letters), pertaining to the Cape of Good Hope or to (historically) to all South Africa.

(8) To skin an animal, particularly a deer.

(9) To gaze or stare; to look for, search after (obsolete).

1350–1400: From the (northern dialect) Middle English cap, from the Old English cāp, from the Middle French cape & Old Provençal capa, from the Vulgar Latin capum from the Latin caput (head) and reinforced in the sixteenth century by the Spanish capa, from the Late Latin cappa (hooded cloak).  A fork in the Late Old English was capa, & cæppe (cloak with a hood), directly from Late Latin.  In Japanese the word is ケープ (kēpu).  The sense of a "promontory, piece of land jutting into a sea or lake" dates from the late fourteenth century, from the Old French cap (cape; head) from the Latin caput (headland, head), from the primitive Indo-European kaput (head).  The Cape of Good Hope at the southern tip of Africa has been called the Cape since the 1660s, and sailors in 1769 named the low cloud banks that could be mistaken for landforms on the horizon, Cape fly-away.  The obsolete sense of gazing or staring at something & to look for or search after is from the Middle English capen (to stare, gape, look for, seek), from the Old English capian (to look), from the Proto-West Germanic kapēn.  It was cognate with the Dutch gapen, the German gaffen (to stare at curiously) and the Low German gapen (to stare); related to the Modern English keep.

Cardinal George Pell (1941-2023) in Cappa Magna (great cape) with caudatario (train-bearer).  The church's rituals vie with the Eurovison Song Contest and the Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras for having the most variety in men's costuming.

Copes are one of many capes in the extensive wardrobe of Roman Catholic clerics and the highlight of any ecclesiastical fashion parade is the silk cappa magna.  Technically a jurisdictional garment, it’s now rarely seen and worn only in processions or when "in choir" (attending but not celebrating services).  Cardinals wear red and bishops violet and both cardinals and papal nuncios are entitled to a cappa magna of watered silk.  Well into the twentieth century, a cappa magna could stretch for nearly 15 metres, (50 feet) but Pius XII’s (1876-1958; pope 1939-1958) motu proprio (literally “on his own impulse”, essentially constitutionally the same as a royal decree which unilaterally creates law) Valde solliciti (1952) laid down that they should not be longer than 7m (23 feet) and later instructions from the Vatican banned them from Rome and curtailed their use elsewhere.  Valde solliciti translates literally as “very worried” and Pius in 1952 was clearly exactly that, concerned at complaints that the extravagance of the Church’s rituals was inappropriate at a time of such troubled austerity.  There was in 1952 still little sign of the remarkable post-war economic recovery which within a decade would be critiqued in Federico Fellini's (1920–1993) film La Dolce Vita (The Sweet Life, 1960).

Actor Anya Taylor-Joy (b 1996) in ankle-length, collared houndstooth cape with matching mini-skirt by Jonathan Anderson (b 1984; creative director of Christian Dior since 2025) over a sleeveless, white, button-down vest and black, stiletto pumps, Paris Fashion Week, October, 2025.

The car is a Rolls-Royce Silver Spirit (1980-1997), the first of the SZ Series platform which would serve the line until 2003.  The Silver Spirit (and the companion LWB (long wheelbase) variant the Silver Spur (1980-2000)) was mechanically little changed from the Silver Shadow (1965-1980) but with styling updated with hints from the still controversial Camargue (1975-1986), a somewhat ungainly two-door saloon designed by Pininfarina which, as an addition to the range which included the conceptually identical Corniche (under various names available since 1966), appeared to have no purpose other than being positioned as the “world’s most expensive car” but that was apparently enough; even in the troubled 1970s, there was a demand for Veblen products.

In the closet: The ensemble awaits.

There were nice touches in the cape, a highlight of the detailing the arpeggiating used for the hem.  In sewing, the arpeggiated stitch is a technique in hand-stitching that creates an invisible and durable finish by catching only a single thread from the main fabric with each stitch.  This demands the hem be folded, turning the garment inside out allowing a hand-held needle to form small, V-shaped stitches by piercing the seam allowance and then the main fabric.  For the necessary robustness to be achieved, the stitching is kept deliberately loose (preventing pulling which would distort the line) with the finished hem pressed and steamed further to conceal the stitch-work.  Obviously labor intensive and therefore expensive to implement, it’s used in garments where the most immaculate finish is desired and although it’s now possible partially to emulate the effect using machine-stitching, the fashion houses know that for their finest, the old ways are best.

Poetry in motion: The lovely Anya Taylor-Joy on the move, illustrating the way the fashion industry cuts its capes to provide a "framing effect" for the rest of the outfit.

Amusingly, although the industry is sensitive to the issue of cultural appropriation (and especially so if matters end up in court), the term “arpeggiated” was “borrowed” from music.  In music, arpeggiate describes the playing of a chord as an arpeggio (the notes of a chord played individually instead of simultaneously, moving usually from lowest to highest but the same word is used whether notes are rising or falling).  It was from the Italian arpeggiare (to play on a harp), the construct being arpa (harp) +‎ -eggiare (a suffix from the Late Latin -izāre and used to form verbs from adjectives or nouns).  The connection comes from the harp’s sound being associated with flowing sequences of notes rather than “block sounds”.  So, the word can be understood as meaning “broken into a rhythmic or sequential pattern, note by note” and the use in sewing (as “arpeggiated stitch”) took the metaphorically from the musical term, referencing a series of short, regularly spaced diagonal or looped stitches that create a flowing, undulating pattern (ie a rising and falling wave-like progression rather than a static block).

Anya Taylor-Joy in cape, swishing around.

Capes often are spoken of as having an “equestrian look” and it’s true capes do have a long tradition on horseback, both in military and civilian use although in fashion the traditional cut of the fabric has evolved into something better thought of as a “framing effect” for what is worn beneath.  That differs from the more enveloping capes worn by those in professions as diverse as cavalry officers and nomadic sheep herders form whom a cape was there to afford protection from the elements and to act as barrier to the dust and mud which is a way of life in such professions.  On the catwalks and red carpets there’s not usually much mud thrown about (other than metaphorically when the “best & worst dressed” lists appear) and the cape is there just for the visual effect.  That effect is best understood on the move because a cape on its hanger is a lifeless thing whereas when on someone walking so it can flow, coming alive; models become expert in exploiting the billowing made possible by the “sail-like” behavior of the fabric when the fluid dynamics of air are allowed to do their stuff.  A skilled model can make a cape swish seductively.

Imelda Marcos (she of “the shoes”, b 1929; First Lady of the Philippines 1965-1986, left) and General Augusto Pinochet (1915-2006; dictator of Chile 1973-1990) at the funeral of Generalissimo Francisco Franco (1892-1975; Caudillo of Spain 1939-1975), Plaza de Oriente, Madrid, Spain, 23 November, 1975.  Franco was something of a model for Pinochet in terms of approach to public administration (having tiresome people “disappeared” or taken outside and shot etc) but not so much in sartorial matters, the Caudillo never having shown much fondness for capes.

Franco’s body originally was interred in a granite and marble crypt beneath the basilica floor of Valle de los Caídos (Valley of the Fallen), a mausoleum & memorial site in the Sierra de Guadarrama mountain range close to Madrid, built by order of the Generalissimo at the end of the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939).  The vast structure, officially opened in 1959, was said the government to be a “national act of atonement” and symbol of reconciliation but controversies about the war and Franco’s subsequent dictatorship were only ever suppressed and in the decades after his death the political and legal manoeuvres to remove from public display all the many relics of the glorification of the victory and dictatorship gathered strength.  In October 2019, his remains were exhumed from the mausoleum and re-interred in the Mingorrubio Cemetery in El Pardo, this time in a family crypt, an event which much divided opinion.  The forces unleashed by the civil war and its decades-long aftermath remain a cleavage in Spanish society and political scientists expect the tensions to continue, even after the war passes from living memory.  In his last public speech a few weeks before his death, Franco had warned the country it remained threatened by a conspiracy involving “communists, left-wing terrorists and Freemasons”.

Cloak (pronounced klohk)

(1) A wrap-like outer garment fastened at the throat and falling straight from the shoulders.

(2) Something that covers or conceals; disguise; pretense.

(3) To cover with or as if with a cloak.

(4) To hide; conceal.

(5) In internet use, a text replacement for an IRC user's hostname or IP address, which makes the user less identifiable.

1175–1225: From the Middle English cloke, from the Old North French cloque, from the Old French cloche & cloke (traveling cloak) from the Medieval Latin cloca (travelers' cape), a variant of clocca (bell-shaped cape (literally “a bell”) and of Celtic origin, from the Proto-Celtic klokkos (and ultimately imitative).  The best known mention of cloak in scripture is in 1 Thessalonians 2:5: For neither at any time “vsed wee flattering wordes, as yee knowe, nor a cloke of couetousnesse, God is witnesse”

The cloak was an article of everyday wear as a protection from the weather for either sex in Europe for centuries, use fluctuating but worn well into the twentieth century, a noted spike happening when revived in the early 1800s as a high-collared circular form fashion garment, then often called a Spanish cloak.  The figurative use "that which covers or conceals; a pretext" dates from the 1520s.  The adjectival phrase cloak-and-dagger is attested from 1848, said to be a translation of the French de cape et d'épée, as something suggestive of stealthy violence and intrigue.  Cloak-and-sword was used from 1806 in reference to the cheap melodramatic romantic adventure stories then published, a similar use to the way sword-and-sandals was used dismissively to refer to the many films made during the 1950s which were set during the Roman Empire.  The cloak-room (or cloakroom), "a room connected with an assembly-hall, opera-house, etc., where cloaks and other articles are temporarily deposited" is attested from 1827 and later extended to railway offices for temporary storage of luggage; by the mid twentieth century it was, like power room and bathroom, one of the many euphemisms for the loo, WC, lavatory.  The undercloak was a similar, lighter garment worn for additional protection under the cloak proper.

The cape and the coat worn as cloak.  A caped Hermann Göring (left), photographed on the way to the lavish celebrations the state staged (and paid for) to mark his 45^th birthday, Berlin, January, 1938 (left) and in sable-trimmed coat with Luffwaffe General Paul Conrath (1896–1979), Soviet Union, 1942 (right). Worn over the shoulders, a coat becomes cloak-like.

Ruthless, energetic and dynamic in the early years of Nazi rule, Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945) was the driving force in the build-up of the Luftwaffe (the German air force) but as things went from bad to worse as the fortunes of war changed, he became neglectful of his many responsibilities, described in 1945 upon his arrival at the jail attached to the Palace of Justice at Nuremberg as “a decayed voluptuary”.  However, he never lost his love for military decorations & uniforms, designing many of his own to suit the unique rank of Reichsmarschall (a kind of six-star general or generalissimo) he held including some in white, sky blue and, as the allied armies closed in on Germany, a more military olive green.  He became fond of capes (all that material can conceal corpulence) and had a number tailored to match his uniforms, Count Galeazzo Ciano (1903–1944; Italian foreign minister 1936-1944) in January 1942 noting of Göring’s visit to Rome: “As usual he is bloated and overbearing”, two days later adding “We had dinner at the Excelsior Hotel, and during the dinner Goering talked of little else but the jewels he owned.  In fact, he had some beautiful rings on his fingers… On the way to the station he wore a great sable coat, something between what automobile drivers wore in 1906 and what a high-grade prostitute wears to the opera.”

As well as his vividly entertaining diaries, Ciano was noted for having married the daughter of Benito Mussolini (1883-1945; Duce (leader) & prime-minister of Italy 1922-1943).  The marriage was certainly a good career move (the Italians would joke of the one they called “ducellio”: “the son-in-law also rises”) although things didn’t end well, Il Duce having him shot (at the insistence of Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945), something which over the years must have drawn the envy of many a father-in-law (a sentiment was expressed by Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) who thought his daughters' tastes in men sometimes appalling).  Like the bemedaled Reichsmarschall, the count was also a keen collector of gongs and in 1935, during the Second Italo-Ethiopian War (the last war of conquest in the era of European colonialism which even at the time seemed to many an embarrassing anachronism), Ciano had commanded the Regia Aeronautica's (Royal Air Force) 15^th Bomber Flight (nicknamed La Disperata (the desperate ones)) in air-raids on tribal forces equipped with only primitive weapons, being awarded the Medaglia d'argento al valor militare (Silver Medal of Military Valor), prompting some to observe he deserved a gold medal for bravery in accepting a silver one, his time in the air having but barely & briefly exposed him to risk.

The difference

Lindsay Lohan in Lavish Alice striped cape, June 2015.

There probably was a time when the distinction between a cape and a cloak was well defined and understood but opportunistic marketing practices and a declining use of both styles has seen the meaning blur and, in commerce, perhaps morph.  Described correctly, there are differences, defined mostly by length, style and function and what they have in common is that while there are layered versions, generally both are made from one sheet of fabric and worn draped over the shoulders, without sleeves.  The most obvious difference is in length, capes in general being much shorter than cloaks, the length of a cape usually anywhere from the top of the torso to the hips and rarely will a cape fall past the thighs.  By comparison, even the shortest cloak falls below the knees, many are calf-length at minimum and the most luxurious, floor-length.

Yves Saint Laurent Rive Gauche full-length hooded cloak in black velvet.

Stylistically, cloaks and capes differ also in aesthetic detail.  Capes typically cover the back and are open and loose in the front, fastening around the neck with a tiny hook or cords that tie together, although in recent years it’s become fashionable to tailor capes with button or zipper closures down the front.  Traditionally too, capes have tended to be more colorful and embellished with decoration, reflecting their origin as fashion items whereas the history of the cloak was one of pure functionally, protection from the weather and the dirt and grime of life.  Some capes even come with a belt looped through them, creating the look of a cinched waist with billowing sleeves.  Cloaks cover the front and back.  They are more streamlined, fitted and tailored than capes and, because of the tailoring, in earlier times, a small number of women in society sometimes wore cloaks styled like a dress, adorned with belts, gloves and jewelry.  This is rarely done today, but a cloak is still dressier than a cape or coat and can be stunning if worn over an evening gown.  As that suggests, the cloak could function as a social signifier of rank or wealth; although worn by all for warmth, a garment of made from an expensive material or lined with silk was clearly beyond what was needed to fend off mud from the street.

Audrey Hepburn (1929–1993) in calf-length cloak over taffeta.

Because of its origins as something protective, hoods are more commonly seen on cloaks; rare on capes which may have a collar for added warmth bit often not even that.  It’s value as a fashion piece aside, a cape’s main function is to cover the back of the wearer, just for warmth.  Because a cape is much shorter than a cloak, slit openings for the arms are not always necessary because arms easily pass through the bottom opening whereas a cloak usually has slit openings for the arms since the length demands it.  Cloaks were supplanted by coats in the post-war years and exist now mostly as a high-fashion pieces, capes in a similar niche in the lower-end of the market.

The cloak as workwear

Cloak and axe of Giovanni Battista Bugatti (1779–1869), official executioner for the Papal States 1796-1864, Criminology Museum of Rome.  Woodcuts and other depictions from the era suggest the blood-red cloak wasn't always worn during executions. 

Giovanni Battista Bugatti began his career at a youthful 17 under Pius VI (1717–1799; pope 1775-1799) and diligently he served six pontiffs before being pensioned off by Pius IX (1792–1878; pope 1846-1878), his retirement induced not by the Holy See losing enthusiasm for the death penalty because one Antonio Balducci succeeded him in the office which fell into disuse only with the loss of the Papal States (756-1870; a conglomeration of territories in the central & northern Italian peninsula under the personal sovereignty of the pope), after the unification of Italy.  Unlike his illustrious predecessor, history has recorded little about Signor Balducci although it’s known he performed his final execution in 1870.  Signor Bugatti was by far the longest-serving of the Papal States’ many executioners and locals dubbed him Mastro Titta, a titular corruption of maestro di giustizia (master of justice) and his 69 year tenure in his unusual role can be accounted for only by either (1) he felt dispatching the condemned a calling or (2) he really enjoyed his work, because his employers were most parsimonious: he received no retainer and only a small fee per commission (although he was granted a small, official residence).  His tenure was long and included 516 victims (he preferred to call them “patients”, the term adopted also by Romans who enjoyed the darkly humorous) but was only ever a part-time gig; most of his income came from his work as an umbrella painter (a part of the labour market which exists still in an artisan niche).  Depending on this and that, his devices included the axe, guillotine, noose or mallet while the offences punished ranged from the serious (murder, conspiracy, sedition etc) to the petty (habitual thieves and trouble-makers).

Cardinal Pietro Gasparri (1852–1934; Cardinal Secretary of State 1914-1930, left) and Benito Mussolini (1883-1945; Duce (leader) & prime-minister of Italy 1922-1943, right), signing the Lateran Treaty, Lateran Palace, Rome, 11 February 1929.

Although as early as 1786 the Grand Duchy of Tuscany became the first Italian state to abolish the death penalty (torture also banned), the sentence remained on the books in the Papal States; then as now, the poor disproportionately were victims of the sanction, similar (or worse) crimes by the bourgeoisie or nobility usually handled with less severity, “hushed-up” or just ignored, an aspect in the administration of justice not unknown in modern, Western liberal democracies.  With the loss of the Papal States, the pope’s temporal domain shrunk to little more than what lay around St Peter’s Square; indeed between 1870 and the signing of Lateran Treaty (1929) after which the Italian state recognized Vatican City as a sovereign state, no pope left the Vatican, their status as self-imposed prisoners a political gesture.  The Lateran treaty acknowledged the validity of the sentence (Article 8 of the 1929 Vatican City Penal Code stating anyone who attempted to assassinate the pope would be subject to the death penalty) although this provision was never used, tempted though some popes must have been.  Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978) in 1969 struck capital punishment from the Vatican's legal code and the last reference to the sanction vanished in 2001 under Saint John Paul II (1920–2005; pope 1978-2005).  Although some states are believed to have (secretly) on the payroll one or more "executioners", retained to arrange assassinations when required, it's not believed the Vatican still has one.  

Tartan

Tartan (pronounced tahr-tn)

(1) A wool or worsted cloth woven with stripes of different colours and widths crossing at right angles, worn chiefly by the Scottish Highlanders, many clans now having its own distinctive design.

(2) A design now often identified by the name of the clan wearing it and most associated with the kilt.

(3) A generalized descriptor for any similar (sometimes called plaid) design.

(4) A single-masted vessel used in the Mediterranean, usually with a lateen sail (also spelled as tartane).

(5) The trade name of a synthetic resin, used for surfacing tracks etc.

1490-1500: Of uncertain origin, apparently a blend of the Middle English tartaryn (rich material) from the Middle French tartarin (Tartar cloth) and the Middle French tiretaine (strong coarse fabric; linsey-woolsey; cloth of mixed fibers) from the Old French tiret (kind of cloth), from tire (oriental cloth of silk) (and as the French tartane from the Italian tartana, of uncertain origin) from the Medieval Latin tyrius (material from Tyre), from the Classical Latin Tyrus (Tyre).  The origin of the name as applied to the small ship most associated with the Mediterranean, dates from seventeenth century French, probably the Provençal tartana (falcon, buzzard), it being common practice in the era to name ships after birds.  As an adjective meaning "design with a pattern of bars or stripes of color crossing one another at right angles", use began circa 1600.  The etymology of the fabric is certainly murky.  Most agree about the influence of the Old French tertaine but some trace the origin of that not to Latin via Italian but rather the Old Spanish tiritaña (a fine silk fabric) from tiritar (to rustle).  The spelling of tartan must have been influenced in Middle English by tartaryn from the Old French tartarin from Tartare (“Tartar," the people of Central Asia).  Tartan & tartanization are nouns, tartanize & tartaning are verbs and tartaned is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is tartans.

Lindsay Lohan in Royal Stewart tartan, Freaky Friday (Walt Disney Pictures, 2003), costume test photo.

Despite the perception of many (encouraged by the depictions in popular culture), tartan in the sense of specific color & pattern combinations attached to specific clans is something of recent origin.  Tartan (breacan (pɾʲɛxkən) in Scots Gaelic) is a patterned cloth consisting of criss-crossed, horizontal and vertical bands in multiple colours.  The word plaid is now often used interchangeably with tartan (particularly in North America and when not associated with anything Scottish (especially kilts)), but technically (and always in Scotland), a plaid is a large piece of tartan cloth, worn as a type of kilt or large shawl although it’s also used to describe a blanket.  During the disputes between England and Scotland, the wearing of tartan became a political expression and, after the failure of the of the 1745 Jacobite rising, the UK parliament in 1746 passed the Dress Act which restricted the wearing of tartan and displays of other aspects of Gaelic culture in Scotland; it was one of a number of laws designed to suppress the warrior clans north of the border.  Perhaps inspired by this weaponization of fashion, during the Nazi occupation of France (1940-1944), the administrators of Alsace made an attempt to "ban the beret" on the grounds it was a "political symbol of Frenchness" (onion sellers curiously exempt from this crackdown) but the bizarre scheme quickly was ended by Berlin.  The Dress Act was repealed in 1782 and tartan was soon adopted as both the symbolic national dress of Scotland and in imagery more generally.  The Royal Stewart was the personal tartan of Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of the UK and other places, 1952-2022) and historically associated with the royal house of Stewart (or Stuart), the dynasty which ruled Scotland from 1371, in 1903 uniting with the English crown in 1603 under James VI of Scotland (1566–1625) who thus became also James I of England and Ireland as James I.

Paired with a denim jacket, Lindsay Lohan in her screen test wore the dress in something of the way in the 1970s it became part of the punk sub-culture but for more conventional types there are also scarves, ties, sashes and such.  There was a time when the convention was it could be worn in Scotland only with the permission of the sovereign but those days are gone and it has long been a most “democratized fabric” to the point where it’s now something of a “universal tartan”, one widely seen in commercial fashion and in that sense is used in parallel with the clan affiliation.  Commonly, it’s worn to formal events such as weddings, ceilidhs, or Burns Nights (readings of the poems of Robert “Rabbie” Burns (1759–1796)), the modern trend to pair a kilt with a Prince Charlie or Argyll jacket, traditionalists adding a sporran (pouch), hose (kilt socks) & flashes, Ghillie brogues (traditional shoes) and even a Sgian dubh (a small dagger tucked in the sock) although carrying the last item may be unlawful in some jurisdictions.  Historians of the fabrics deconstruct the Royal Stewart as: (1) red background (boldness, power & visibility (thus a very “royal” color)), (2) blue & black (lines strength & dignity) and (3) white & yellow stripes (light, honor & distinction).  Remarkably, in the age of identity politics and sensitivity to cultural appropriation, the etiquette guides note there is no objection to non-Scots folk wearing their tartan of choice except when an event is clan-specific in which case only those in the lineage should don the fabric.  That said, even then, the consequence of a tartan faux pas will likely be less severe than wearing a Rangers shirt in a Glasgow pub filled with Celtic’s hoops.

Car seat covers in Clan Lindsay Tartan.  The Clan Lindsay motto is Endure Fort (Endure bravely).  Think about it.

Although there’s now an industry devoted to the tartans of the clans, the specific association of patterns with clans and families began only in the mid-nineteenth century.  This history was both technological and economic deterministic.  Unlike some fabrics, tartans were produced by local weavers for local sale, using only the natural dyes available in that geographical area and patterns were just designs chosen by the buyer.  It was only with a broader availability of synthetic dyes that many patterns were created these began (somewhat artificially) to become associated with Scottish clans, families, or institutions wishing to emphasize their Scottish heritage.  The heritage was usually real but not often specific to a particular tartan, the mid-nineteenth century interest in the fabrics a kind of manufactured nostalgia.  There are many modern tartans on sale, the color combinations and patterns of which are chosen for market appeal rather than any relationship to clan identity or any other historic link: Among the purists, these collectively are called "the clan McGarish".  The phrase "Tartan Tory" does not refer to Scottish members of the Conservative Party (a once prolific species which has for decades been listed as "threatened" and may already be functionally extinct) but to the faction of the Scottish National Party (SNP) which is associated with cultural nostalgia rather than radical nationalist politics.

1976 Porsche 914 2.0 with factory-fitted heckblende in Nepal Orange over black leatherette with orange & black plaid inserts.  All the mid-engined 914 built for public sale had a targa top although for use in competition the factory did a few with a fixed roof to gain additional rigidity.  The 914 was the first of a number of attempts by Porsche’s engineers to convince customers there were better configurations than the rear-engine layout used on the 911 & 912.  The customers continued to demand 911s and, the customer always being right, rear-engined 911s remain available to this day.

These days, a designer might, for the right design, for a certain target market use orange paint or orange & black plaid but it's unlikely they'd be seen in combination; it'd be sort of like mixing spots & stripes.  The 1970s however were different and, for better and worse, there was more adventurism on the color charts although, regrettably, polka-dot upholstery never caught on.  The last Porsche 914s (1969-1976) were sold in 1976 but because the new 924 (1976-1988) wasn’t ready for production, to create an “entry-level” model for the vital US market, the factory resurrected the 912.  The original 912 (1965-1969) was essentially a four-cylinder 911 (1964-) with less elaborate appointments and fitted with a version of the 1.6 litre flat-four used in 356 (1946-1965) but the 1976 912E used the 2.0 litre Volkswagen unit from the 914 because the older engine had never been modified to comply with the new emission control rules.  The single-season 912E was an unexpected swansong for the 912 and although some 30% cheaper than the contemporary 911S, it sold in only one fifth the volume, a telling comparison with the mid 1960s when the 912 initially out-sold the 911.  So barely more than 2,000 912Es were built and the aftermarket was for decades subdued but the survival rate was high and although the prices realized don’t match the 912s of the 1960s (let alone the six cylinder cars), the 912E is now appreciated as a practical, well-built and surprisingly economical machine so prices have been rising.

High-priced plaid

1955 Mercedes-Benz 300SL Gullwing (W198) trimmed in blue-grey plaid.  The factory option codes for the plaid were L1 Blaugrau (blue-grey), L2 Rot-Grün (red-green) & L3 Grün-Beige (green-beige).

Buyers of the Mercedes-Benz 300SL Gullwing (W198, 1954-1957) had the choice of seats covered in leather or plaid cloth.  In the years since, many Gullwings originally fitted with plaid upholstery were re-trimmed in leather during refurbishment or restoration, partly because the leather was thought to have more of a allure but also because for decades fabrics exactly matching what was available in the 1950s had become unobtainable (unobtainium thus the preferred industry term).  However, in 2018, in what was said to be a response to "demand", Daimler announced bolts replicating exactly the original three designs (L1 Blaugrau (blue-grey), L2 Rot-Grün (red-green) & L3 Grün-Beige (green-beige)) would again be available as factory part-numbers.  Manufactured to the 1955 specification using an odor-neutral wool yarn woven into a four-ply, double weave twill, it’s claimed to be a “very robust material”.  In the era, the blue-grey fabric was the most popular, fitted to 80% of 300SLs not trimmed in leather while the red-green and green-beige combinations were requested respectively only by 14 & 6% of buyers.  The price (quoted in 2018 at US$229 per yard) was indicative of the product’s niche market but for those restoring a 300 SL to its original appearance, it's a bargain.  The fabric may be ordered from the Mercedes-Benz Klassisches Zentrum (Classic Centre).

1955 Mercedes-Benz 300SL Gullwing (W198; chassis 5500428; Engine 198.980.5500455 & body 5500411 and factory-fitted with the Rudge Wheel option), refurbished by Paul Russell & Company, Essex, Massachusetts (Leder rot (red leather) 1079 (left) and non-original Rot-Weiß (red-white plaid) (right)) .  Note the strapped-down luggage in the "head-rest" position.

Now bolts of fabric replicating the construction and appearance of the originals are available, restorers are able even more closely to replicate the appearance of seven-odd decades ago.  With chassis 5500428, Paul Russell & Company re-painted and re-trimmed to the original factory specifications (Graphitgrau (Graphite Grey) DB190 over Leder rot (red leather) 1079) but also included an interchangeable set of seat cushions and squabs in a non-original red-white plaid.  Additionally, the company fabricated a reproduction of the matching luggage set and while restorers have long been able, at a price, to recreate just about anything constructed from metal, timber and metal, in recent years the industry has been transformed with the advent of large scale 3D printers meaning even plastic parts can be formed from either specifications or scans of an original.  The 1955 design for the location of the luggage was thoughtful and a fine example of space utilization but, cognizant of Sir Isaac Newton's (1642–1727) laws of motion, today's regulators would be less than pleased.  In April, 2025, the car was offered for sale on the Bring-a-Trailer on-line auction site.

The part-numbers for the bolts of fabric: L1 Blue-Grey (A 000 983 44 86 / 5000), L2 Red-Green (A 000 983 44 86 / 3000) & L3 Green-Beige (A 000 983 44 86 / 6000).

Cinque

Cinque (pronounced singk)

(1) In certain games (those using cards, dice, dominoes etc), a card, die, or domino with five spots or pips.

(2) As cinquefoil (1) a potentilla (flower), (2) in heraldry, a stylized flower or leaf with five lobes and (3) in topology, a particular knot of five crossings.

(3) As cinquecentist, (1) an Italian of the sixteenth century, especially a poet or an artist, (2) a student or imitator of the art or literature of that period and (3) the style of art or architecture of that period.

(4) In fine art, as cinquecento, the works of the sixteenth-century (ie the 1500s).

(5) In bladesmithing, as cinquedea, a long dagger (ie short sword) with an unusually heavy blade, developed in Renaissance-era northern Italy during the fifteenth century.  The name is from the Italian cinquedea (literally “five fingers”), a reference to the width of the tapered-blade at the hilt, the expanse of steel meaning they often were richly ornamented although, typically being only some 18 inches (460 mm) in length, they were still light enough in combat to be an effective weapon.

1350–1400: From the Middle English cink, from the Old French cinq (five), from the Vulgar Latin cinque, from the Latin quīnque (five).  The archaic spelling cinq was from the modern French cinq, whereas the standard spelling probably emerged either under the influence of the Italian cinque or was simply a misspelling of the French.  In typically English fashion, the pronunciation “sank” is based on a hypercorrect approximation of the French pronunciation, still heard sometimes among what use to be called “the better classes”.  The alternative forms were cinq (archaic), sinque (obsolete) and sink & sank (both misspellings) while the homophones are cinq, sink, sync & synch (and sank at the best parties).  Cinque is a noun; the noun plural is cinques.

Cinque outposts, attested since the 1640s was a term which referred to the five senses.  The noun cinquecento (written sometimes as cinque-cento) is used in (as noun & adjective) criticism & academic works when describing sixteenth century Italian art and literature.  It dates from 1760, from the Italian cinquecento (literally “500”) and was short for mil cinquecento (1500).  The use to describe "a group of five, five units treated as one," especially at cards or dice, dates from the late fourteenth century and in English was borrowed directly from the French cinq, a dissimilation from Latin quinque (five) which in Late Latin also picked up the familiar spelling cinque.  The ultimate root was the primitive Indo-European penkwe (five).

Cinquefoil housing stained glass (leadlight) window.

In architecture, a cinquefoil is a ornament constructed with five cuspidated divisions, the use dating from the late fifteenth century, from the Old French cinqfoil, the construct being cinq (five) + foil (leaf).  The basis for the French form was the quinquefolium, the construct being quinque (five) + folium (leaf), from the primitive Indo-European root bhel- (to thrive, bloom).  In Gothic tracery, there was a wide use of circular shapes featuring a lobe tangent to the inner side of a larger arc or arch, meeting other lobes in points called cusps projecting inwards from the arch and architects defined them by the number of foils used, indicated by the prefix: trefoil (3), quatrefoil (4), cinquefoil (5), multifoil etc.  Although used as stand-alone fixtures, bands of quatrefoils were much used for enrichment during the "Perpendicular Period" (the final phase of English Gothic architecture, dated usually between circa 1350–1550; it followed the "Decorated Style" and was characterized by strong vertical lines, large windows with intricate tracery, and elaborate fan vaulting) and, when placed with the axes set diagonally, quatrefoils were called cross-quarters.

Porsche "phone-dial" wheels, clockwise from top left: 1981 911SC, 1988 924S, 1987 944S & 1985 928S.  With a myriad of variations, the cinquefoil motif was a style for wheels used by a number of manufacturers, the best known of which were the ones with which Porsche equipped the 911, 924, 944 & 928 where they were known as the “phone-dial”, a reference which may puzzle those younger than a certain age.  Because these have five rather than ten holes, they really should have picked up the nickname "cinquefoil" rather than "phone-dial" but the former was presumably too abstract or obscure so the more accessible latter prevailed.  All Porsche’s phone dial wheels looked similar and for non-expert eyes it really was necessary to have the variants side-by-side to notice the subtle differences.  The factory for example fitted 15” wheels to the early 928s if equipped with an automatic transmission and 16” units if a manual but the larger wheels were available (option code I401) for the former while the smaller could be ordered even on a manual, the attraction being the smoother ride provided by the taller tyre’s sidewall.  Fortunately for restorers and collectors, the part-number is stamped on the inside of each wheel (eg the 7” x 16” fitted typically to a 1979 928 with a five-speed manual transmission is part # 928 361 916 00) and the compatibility list widely is available.  Being this is a Porsche thing, there are specialists who have memorized all the permutations and thus have no need to resort to looking up the papers; such folk are great fun at dinner parties.

Fiat 500 (2023), watercolor on paper by Monika Jones.  While the artist hasn't provided notes, it's tempting to imagine the inspiration was something like “Lindsay Lohan in white dress during summer in Rome, leaning on Fiat 500, painted in the tradition of Impressionism.”

A classic of the La Dolce Vita era, the rear-engined Fiat 500 was in continuous production between 1957-1975 and was the successor to the pre-war Fiat 500 Topolino, an even more diminutive machine which proved its versatility in roles ranging from race tracks to inner-city streets to operating as support vehicles used by the Italian Army in the invasion of Abyssinia (1935).  Almost 3.9 million of the post-war 500s (dubbed the Nuova Cinquecento (New 500)) were produced and as well as the two-door saloon (almost all fitted with a folding sunroof) there were three-door station wagons (the Giardiniera) & panel vans.  Although not all wore the 500 badge, in the home market, universally Italians called them the Cinquecentro.  There was also the unusual 500 Jolly, a cut down version built by Carrozzeria Ghia which featured wicker seats and a removable fabric roof in the style of the surrey tops once used on horse-drawn carriages.  The Jolly was intended as “beach car”, some carried on the yachts of the rich and although Ghia built only 650 originals, many 500s have since been converted to “Jolly Spec”, one of coach-building’s less-demanding tasks.  Being an Italian car, there were of course high-performance versions, the wildest of which was the Steyr-Puch 650 TR2 (1965-1969) which ran so hot it was necessary to prop open the engine cover while it was in use.  The Nuova 500’s successors never achieved the same success but such was the appeal of the original that in 2007 a retro-themed 500 was released although, al la Volkswagen’s “new Beetles” (1997-2019), the configuration was switched to a water-cooled front-engine with FWD (front-wheel-drive).

1985 Ferrari Testarossa “monospecchio-monodado”.

The early Testarossas were fitted with centre-lock magnesium-alloy wheels, chosen for their lightness.  Responding to feedback from the dealer network, as a running-change during 1988, these were substituted for units with a conventional five-bolt design.  The centre-lock wheels were called monodado (one nut) while the five lug-types were the cinquedado (five nut) and because of the time-line, while all the monospecchio cars are also monodado, only some of the monodaddi are monospecchi.  Monospecchi (literally "one mirror") is an unofficial designation for the early cars fitted with a single external mirror, mounted unusually high on the A-pillar, the location the product of Ferrari's interpretation of the EU's (European Union) rearward visibility regulations.  The Eurocrats later clarified things and Testarossas subsequently were fitted with two mirrors in the usual position at the base of the A-pillar. 

Plastic wheelcover for the Ford (Australia) Fairmont XE (1982-1984, left), a circa 1949 British GPO standard telephone in Bakelite (centre) (globally, the most produced handset in this style was the Model 302, which, with a thermoplastic case, was manufactured in the US by Western Electric between 1937-1955 and plastic wheelcover for the Ford (Australia) Fairmont XF (1984-1988, right).  Telephones with larger dial mechanisms usually didn't use all the available space for the finger-holes.

Probably some are annoyed at the “five-hole” wheel design coming to be known as the “phone-dial” because of course the classic rotary-dial mechanism had ten holes, one for each numeral.  Ford Australia actually stuck to the classics when designing a plastic wheel-cover for the XE Fairmont (then the next rung up in the Falcon's pecking order) because it featured the correct ten holes and it was re-allocated as a “hand-me-down” for the Falcon when the XF was introduced, the Fairmont now getting an eight-hole unit.  None of these seem ever to have been dubbed “phone-dials”, probably because plastic wheel–covers have never been a fetish like the older metal versions or aluminium wheels (often as “rims” in modern usage, a practice which also annoys some).  The XE hubcap may be thought a decemfoil (10 leaf) and the XF unit a octofoil (8 leaf).

1971 Ford (South Africa) XY Fairmont GT with the GS Pack wheel covers.

The South African Fairmont GTs were never fitted with the "five slot" wheels used in Australia, getting instead the chromed wheel cover which in Australia was part of the "GS Pack", a collection of "dress-up" options designed to provide much of the look of a GT without the additional costs to purchase or insure one.  The GS Pack wheel covers were first seen in Australia on the 1967 XR Falcon GT and came from the Mercury parts bin in the US where they'd appeared on the 1966 Mercury Comet Cyclone GT; they were designed to look like a chromed, naked wheel, the idea a tribute to the Californian hot rod community in which the motif originated.

1971 Ford (Australia) XY Falcon GT with “five slot” wheels.

Although scholars of Latin probably haven’t given much thought to the wheels Ford used in the 1960s & 1970s, their guidance would be helpful because the correct Latin form for “slot” depends on context, the words being (1) Fissura: “crack, split or narrow opening”, (2) Rima: “narrow gap or slit”, (3) Foramen: “opening, hole or perforation” and (4) Scissura “cleft or division”.  So a XY GT’s wheel would be a cinquefissura, cinquerima, cinqueforamen or cinquescissura.  The scholars would have to rule but cinquerima seems best, tied in nicely with the modern (albeit contested) use of “rim” to mean wheel.      

In production over six generations between 1965-2008 the Fairmont was a "blinged-up" version of the Australian Ford Falcon (1960-2016), a car based on the US compact (1960-1969) Ford of the same name (the one-off 1970 US Falcon an entry level model in the intermediate Torinio (formerly Fairlane) range).  Ford in the US would also use the Fairmont name for a compact (1978-1983) but the most quirky use was that between 1969-1971, Ford South Africa sold a car substantially similar to the Australian Falcon GT but badged it "Fairmont GT".  Assembled (with some local components) in South Africa from CKD (completely knocked down) packs imported from Australia, the Fairmont name was chosen because US Falcons (assembled from Canadian CKD packs) had been sold in South Africa between 1960-1963 but had gained such a bad reputation (Ford Australia had to do much rectification work after encountering the same fragility) the nameplate was decreed tainted.  In the technical sense, "Fairmont GT" would have been a more accurate name in Australia too because the Falcon GT was trimmed to the same specification (ie bling) as the Fairmont; the choice of "Falcon GT" was just a desire by the marketing team to create a "halo" machine for the mainstream range, something which succeeded to an degree which probably surprised even those ever-optimistic types.  Ford South Africa never offered a Fairmont GTHO to match the Falcon GTHOs produced in Australia to homologate certain combinations of parts for competition.

Lamborghini has used the phone-dial since the first incarnation appeared on the Silhouette in 1976 and it likes it still, left to right: Huranan, Gallardo, Countach, Diablo and Silhouette.  With five "holes", these are true cinquefoils and thoughtlessly, like Porsche, Lamborghini seems never to have provided a "trigger warning" urging caution on the trypophobic (those suffering from trypophobia (an obsessive or irrational fear of patterns or clusters of small holes)).

Despite being often called a "hubcap", what appeared on the South African Fairmont GTs really was a "wheel cover".  The origin of the hubcap was, fairly obviously, “a cap for hub”, something which dates from the age of horse-drawn carts.  Although they would later become something decorative, hubcaps began as a purely function fitting designed to ensure the hub mechanism was protected from dirt and moisture because removing a wheel when the hub was caked in mud with bolts “rusted on” could be a challenge.  In the twentieth century the practice was carried over to the automobile, initially without much change but as wheels evolved from the wooden-spoked to solid steel (and even in the 1920s some experimented with aluminium), the hubcaps became larger because the securing bolts were more widely spaced.  This meant they became a place to advertise so manufacturers added their name and before long, especially in the US, the humble hubcap evolved into the “wheel-cover”, enveloping the whole circle and they became a styling feature, designs ranging from the elegant to the garishly ornate and some were expensive: in 1984 a set of replacement “wire” wheel covers for a second generation Cadillac Seville (the so-called “bustle-back”, 1980-1985) listed at US$995.00 if ordered as a Cadillac part-number and then that was a lot of money.  By the late 1980s, most wheel covers were plastic pressings, other than in places like the isolated environments behind the Iron Curtain.

Beltless: Lindsay Lohan in 2004 using touch-dial wall-phone, note the hooking of the thumbs in the belt loops.

Remarkably, although touch-dial (ie buttons) handsets appeared in the consumer market as early as 1963 and soon became the standard issue, in 2024 it’s possible still to buy new, rotary-dial phones although only the user experience remains similar; internally the connections are effected with optical technology, the “sound & feel” emulated.  There’s also a market for updating the old Bakelite & Thermoplastic units (now typically between 70-90 years old) with internals compatible with modern telephony so clearly there’s some nostalgia for the retro-look, if not the exact experience.  Even after the touch-dial buttons became ubiquitous the old terminology persisted among users (and in the manufacturers' documents); when making calls users continued to "dial the number".  The same sort of linguistic legacy exists today because ending a call is still the act of "hanging up" and that dates from the very early days of telephony when the ear-piece was a large conical attachment on a cord and at a call's conclusion, it was "hung up" on a arm, the weight of the receiver lowering the arm which physically separated two copper connectors, terminating the link between the callers.  

Ms Justine Haupt with custom rotary-dial cell phone in turquoise.

Ms Justine Haupt (b 1987), an astronomy instrumentation engineer at New York’s Brookhaven National Laboratory went a step further (backwards, or perhaps sideways, some might suggest) and built a rotary-dial cell phone from scratch because of her aversion to what she describes as “smartphone culture and texting”, something to which many will relate.  In what proved a three year project, Ms Haupt used a rotary-dial mechanism from a Trimline telephone (introduced in 1965 and produced by Western Electric, the manufacturing unit of the Bell System), mounted on a case 4 x 3 x 1 inches (100 x 75 x 25 mm) in size with a noticeably protuberant aerial; it used an AT&T prepaid sim card and had a battery-life of some 24-30 hours.  Conforming to the designer’s choices of functionality, it includes two speed-dial buttons, an e-paper display and permits neither texting nor internet access.  

Designer colors: Available in black, white, turquoise, beige and the wonderful Atomic Hotline Red.

“Atomic Hotline Red” is an allusion to the Moscow-Washington DC “hotline” installed in the aftermath of the Cuban Missile Crisis (October 1962). In truth, despite frequently appearing in popular culture, there never was a “red phone” and the US connection terminated not on the POTUS’s desk in the Oval Office but in the Pentagon (now HQ of the Department of War) in Arlington County, Virginia.  The first implementation in 1963 used a version of Telex while it was an analogue facsimile service (ie fax machines) between 1986-2008.  Since 2008 the data has travelled over a secure digital link, decrypted into text at each end.

Although she intended the device as a one-off for her own use, Ms Haupt was surprised at the interest generated and in 2022 began selling a kit (US$170) with which others could build their own, all parts included except the rotary-dial mechanism which would need to be sourced from junk shops and such.  Unlike the larger mechanism on the traditional desk or wall-mounted telephone, the holes in the Trimline’s smaller rotary-dial used the whole circle so the ten-hole layout is symmetrical and thus the same as the XE Fairmont’s wheelcover, something doubtlessly wholly coincidental.  Unfortunately, Ms Haupt encountered many difficulties (bringing to market a device which connects to public telephony networks involves processes of greater complexity than selling mittens and such) but the project remains afoot.

The rough-fruited cinquefoil or sulphur cinquefoil (Potentilla recta).

In botany, the potentila is a genus containing some three-hundred species of annual, biennial and perennial herbaceous flowering plants in the rose (rosaceae) family.  Since the 1540s it’s been referred to as the cinquefoil (also “five fingers” or “silverweeds”), all distinguished by their compound leaves of five leaflets.

The Confederation of Cinque Ports was a group of coastal towns in Kent, Sussex and Essex, the name from the Old French which means literally “five harbors”.  The five were Hastings, Sandwich, Dover, Romney, and Hythe, all on the western shore of the English Channel, where the crossing to the continent is narrowest.  Because of (1) their importance in cross-channel trade and (2) being in the region ,most vulnerable to invasion, they were granted special privileges and concessions by the Crown in exchange for providing certain services essential for maritime defense, dating from the years prior to the formation of the Royal Navy in the fifteenth century.  The name was first used in the late twelfth century in Anglo-Latin and the late thirteenth in English.

An early version of a PPP (public-private partnership), with no permanent navy to defend it from sea-borne aggression, the crown contracted with the confederation to provide what was essentially a naval reserve to be mobilized when needed. Earlier, Edward the Confessor (circa 1003–1066; King of England 1042-1066) had contracted the five most important strategically vital Channel ports of that era to provide ships and men “for the service of the monarch” and although this was used most frequently as a “cross-Channel ferry service” and was not exclusively at the disposal of the government.  Under the Norman kings, the institution assumed the purpose of providing the communications and logistical connections essential to keeping together the two halves of the realm but after the loss of Normandy in 1205, their ships and ports suddenly became England’s first line of defense against the French.  The earliest charter still extant dates from 1278 but a royal charter of 1155 charged the ports with the corporate duty to maintain in readiness fifty-seven ships, each to be available each year for fifteen days in the service of the king, each port fulfilling a proportion of the whole duty.  In return the ports and towns received a number of tax breaks and privileges including: An exemption from tax and tolls, limited autonomy, the permission to levy tolls, certain law enforcement and judicial rights, possession of lost goods that remain unclaimed after a year and of flotsam (floating wreckage and such) & jetsam (goods thrown overboard).  Even at the time this was thought to be a good deal and the leeway afforded to the Cinque Ports and the substantial absence of supervision from London led inevitability to smuggling and corruption although in this the Cinque Ports were hardly unique.

The Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports was something like a viceroy and the office still exists today but is now purely ceremonial and, although technically relict, remains a sinecure and an honorary title, regarded as one of the higher honors bestowed by the Sovereign and a sign of special approval by the establishment which includes the entitlement to the second oldest coat of arms of England.  The prestige it confers on the holder is derived from (1) it being the gift of the sovereign, (2) it being England’s most ancient military honor and (3), the illustrious standing of at least some of the previous hundred and fifty-eight holders of the office.  It is a lifetime appointment.

William Lygon (1872-1938), seventh Earl Beauchamp, in uniform as Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports.

The office of lord warden has not been without the whiff of scandal.  William Lygon, who in 1891 succeeded his father as the seventh Earl Beauchamp, was at twenty-seven appointed governor of New South Wales, a place to which he would later return, happily and otherwise.  In 1913, Lord Beauchamp, well-connected in society and the ruling Liberal Party’s leader in the House of Lords, was appointed Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports and, fond of pomp, ceremony and dressing-up, he enjoyed the undemanding role.  However, in 1930, he embarked on a round-the-world tour which included a two-month stint in Sydney, where he stayed, accompanied by a young valet who lived with him as his lover.  This, along with other antics, did not go unnoticed, and the Australian Star newspaper duly reported:

“The most striking feature of the vice-regal ménage is the youthfulness of its members … rosy cheeked footmen, clad in liveries of fawn, heavily ornamented in silver and red brocade, with many lanyards of the same hanging in festoons from their broad shoulders, [who] stood in the doorway, and bowed as we passed in … Lord Beauchamp deserves great credit for his taste in footmen.”

The report found its way to London when Beauchamp’s brother-in-law, the second Duke of Westminster (1879–1953), hired detectives to gather evidence, hoping to destroy him and damage the Liberal Party, the Tory duke hating both.  Evidence proved abundant and not hard to find so in 1931 Westminster publicly denounced Beauchamp as a homosexual to the king (George V 1865–1936; King of the United Kingdom & Emperor of India 1910-1936), who was appalled and responded that he “…thought men like that always shot themselves.”  Westminster insisted a warrant be issued for Beauchamp’s arrest and that forced him into exile.

Lady Beauchamp seems to have shown some confusion upon being informed of her husband’s conduct.  Although he had enjoyed many liaisons in their (admittedly large) residences (his partners including servants, socialites & local fishermen) and his proclivities were an open secret known to many in society, his wife remained oblivious and expressed some confusion about what homosexuality was.  Leading a sheltered existence, Lady Beauchamp had never been told about the mechanics of “the detestable and abominable vice of buggery” and was baffled, thinking her husband was being accused of being a bugler.  Actually, that evocative phrase from the statute of 1533 no longer existed in English law so someone must have gone into the details with her because the charge would have been “Gross Indecency contrary to Section 11 of the Criminal Law Amendment Act 1885”.  The change had been created by the so-called Labouchere Amendment and it solved the practical problem created by the specificity of the words of the sixteenth century.  For the state, the problem was the old law had been too exact in that if the prosecution could not beyond reasonable doubt prove anal sex had happened between at least two “male persons”, a conviction couldn’t be secured.  Thus the attraction of the phrase “Gross Indecency” which covered the whole vista of “unnatural caresses” and it was under the new law Irish writer Oscar Wilde (1854–1900) was tried and convicted, receiving a sentence of two years.  So it cast a wider net but was less harsh in that as late as 1861 a conviction could attract the death penalty although this was thought so onerous a punishment for what was often a consensual act that prosecutions became rare.  Despite the reforms in England, in some parts of the old British Empire, terminology like “the abominable crime of buggery” remained on the statute books until late in the twentieth century.

Once things were became clear in Lady Beauchamp's mind, she petitioned for divorce, the papers describing the respondent as: “A man of perverted sexual practices, [who] has committed acts of gross indecency with male servants and other male persons and has been guilty of sodomy … throughout the married life … the respondent habitually committed acts of gross indecency with certain of his male servants.”  Tipped-off (then as now, the establishment had a "gay network"), his lordship promptly decamped, first to Germany which then would have seemed a prudent choice because, although homosexual acts between men had been illegal since the unification of Germany in 1871, under the Weimar Republic (1918-1933), enforcement was rare and a gay culture flourished blatantly in the larger German cities, the Berlin scene famous even then, the writer Christopher Isherwood (1904–1986) describing things memorably although it wasn't until his diaries were later published one fully could "read between the lines".  After the Nazis gained power in 1933, things changed and Beauchamp contemplated satisfying George V’s assumption but was dissuaded, instead spending his time between Paris, Venice, Sydney and San Francisco, four cities with a tolerant sub-culture and certainly places where wealthy gay men usually could bribe their way out of any legal unpleasantness.

Sir Robert Menzies in uniform as Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports.

Sir Robert Menzies (1894–1978; prime-minister of Australia 1939-1941 & 1949-1966) was one of the more improbable appointments as lord warden.  In the office (1965-1978), he replaced Sir Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) on whom the hardly onerous duties had been imposed in 1941.  The old soldier Churchill had spent a lifetime appearing in a variety of military uniforms (his RAF (Royal Air Force) Air Commodore's outfit adorned with "pilot's wings" (aviator badge), "awarded" by the RAF on the basis of flying lessons (concluded after a non-fatal crash) he'd undertaken at the Royal Naval Flying School at Eastchurch on the Isle of Sheppey while serving as First Lord of the Admiralty (1911-1915)) and wore it well but the very civilian Menzies looked something like one of the characters from a Gilbert & Sullivan (Sir William Gilbert (1836–1911) & Sir Arthur Sullivan (1842–1900) comic opera.  That he was made lord warden rather than being granted a peerage was thought by some emblematic of the changing relationship between the UK and Australia.

After the death of George V, the warrant for Beauchamp’s arrest was lifted and, in July 1937, he returned to England.  What did come as a surprise to many was that soon after his arrival, invitations were issued for a Beauchamp ball, ostensibly a coming-of-age celebration for Richard Lygon (1916-1970; the youngest son) but universally regarded as an attempt at a social resurrection.  In a sign of the times, much of London society did attend although there were those who declined and made it known why.  Still, it seems to have appeared a most respectable and even successful event, Henry "Chips" Channon (1897-1958) noting in his diary it was a bit dull, the “only amusing moment when Lord Beauchamp escorted… a negress cabaret singer into supper.  People were cynically amused but I was not surprised, knowing of his secret activities in Harlem.  It is never a long step from homosexuality to black ladies.”  Lord Beauchamp didn’t long enjoy his return to society, dying within a year of the ball but the vicissitudes of his life were helpful to Evelyn Waugh (1903-1966) when writing Brideshead Revisited (1945), the character of Lord Marchmain based on Beauchamp himself while the ill-fated Sebastian Flyte was inspired by Beauchamp’s son Hugh (1904-1936) who shared and (with some enthusiasm) pursued some of his father’s interests.  Despite it all, an appointment as Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports is for life and Lord Beauchamp remained in office until his death.