Curiosidades Genealógicas (V): Aporte sobre los Lucea, de Albalate del Arzobispo

En el Bajo Aragón son realmente pocos los pueblos que se salvaron de la destrucción voluntaria y sañuda de su patrimonio documental durante los años 30 del siglo pasado. En algunos perecieron los libros parroquiales, salvándose los del Registro Civil; en otros - menos - se salvaron los libros sacramentales pero se quemaron los del Registro. Y en algunos, se quemaron todos. Éste es el caso de Albalate del Arzobispo.

Sobra decir que para cualquiera que intente recomponer una genealogía que pase por el citado pueblo, el panorama no induce al optimismo. La única vía abierta es la que proporcionan los documentos referentes a Albalate y que no estuvieran en el pueblo en el momento fatídico. Así por ejemplo tenemos las matrículas de cumplimiento parroquial, atesoradas en el Archivo Diocesano de Zaragoza; y algunos otros, como por ejemplo la firma de infanzonía presentada por los Lucea a la Real Audiencia de Aragón entre 1757 y 1759. Este pliego ya ha sido sustancialmente transcrito y publicado por María del Pilar Lucea Parra en 1995, y en su artículo se traza la ascendencia de los Lucea hasta aproximadamente 1500. 

Aunque la gran mayoria de quienes habitaron en Albalate del Arzobispo han sido condenados al olvido perpetuo por la destrucción de los únicos documentos que les mencionaban, de vez en cuando la casualidad juega un papel decisivo en salvar algún retazo de la historia familiar; como por ejemplo, cuando una señora se pone de parto estando a un par de pueblos de su casa. En el cercano pueblo turolense de Alloza sobrevive un valiosísimo archivo parroquial y no sería de extrañar que, además del ejemplo que vamos a examinar, en ello se pudieran hallar otras partidas sueltas que ayudasen a documentar familias de pueblos cercanos cuyo patrimonio archivístico fué destruido.

En 1839, hallándose de paso, la esposa de uno de los Lucea ha dado a luz en Alloza; y pocos años más tarde, uno de los hijos mayores de la misma señora se afincó en Alloza, casándose con una chica natural del pueblo. Así, pues, gracias al Libro 6º de Bautizados de la parroquia de Alloza, podemos añadir esta breve rama al árbol de los Lucea infanzones:

I. Don José Lucea, natural de Albalate del Arzobispo, casó con Josefa Lahoz. Tuvieron por hijo - además, tal vez, de otros - a

II. Don Antonio Lucea, que casó con Josefa Izquierdo, también natural de Albalate del Arzobispo, hija de Miguel y de Manuela Torres. Tuvieron al menos 8 hijos, siendo la octava su hija María, bautizada en Alloza el 18 de mayo de 1839; y otro de los 8 fué

III. Don Celedonio Lucea, que casó con María Gazulla, natural de Alloza; tuvieron por hijas, además quizás de otras, a María; otra María, nacida en 1845; Paula; y Bernardina.

FUENTES: Revista "Colaboraciones", Nº 5, 1995, Pp. 77-101 - Archivo Parroquial de Alloza (Teruel) - Firma de Infanzonía de Pedro Lucea y Consortes, Archivo Histórico Provincial de Zaragoza, Sig. 241/B-2.

Ironikus Lovagrendi történet

Nagybocsai Sárközy Miklóst (munkaidöben inkább úgy ismert mint Nicolas Sarkozy) az Aranygyapjas Rend lovagjává ütötte I. János Károly spanyol király.

Gratulálunk az újdonsült lovagnak; a jövö héten Madridban kiállítás nyílik az Aranygyapjas Rend történetéröl és örömmel látom, hogy az európai történelem ezen szimbólumát a XXI. sz.-ban olyan becsben tartják, hogy egy államfö érdemesnek tartja azt odaítélni és egy másik azt elfogadni.

Habár nehez megmondani, hogy a hír melyik része ironikusabb: az hogy a Francia Köztársaság elnöke a redjelet egy Bourbon királytól veszi át; vagy az hogy egy magyar származású, világszerte elismert közéleti személyiség a spanyol Aranygyapjas Rend lovagja lesz és nem a Habsburgé. Csak nem még mindig a 1848-as események miatt?

Genealogical Oddities (IV): An English Minstrel in Colonial Puerto Rico

Finding intriguing people in unexpected places is one of the joys of genealogical research. If nothing else, it helps take away the sting of not finding exactly what one was looking for.

While searching the official record of the prosecution of a colonial governor of Puerto Rico by his successor, among the witness statements I came across someone who was a long way from home.

Baltasar de Andino was a nephew of the disgraced governor (Gaspar Martínez de Andino) and was being kept under lock and key in San Juan. In early September 1688, the younger Andino made a daring escape and the colonial authorities began rounding up anyone who may have assisted him in his flight.

One of those questioned was an Englishman, referred to as Antonio Daniel, who apparently had been summoned to Andino's cell on two evenings preceding his escape, in order to provide a little light entertainment - ennui is such a problem in steaming Caribbean dungeons. Daniel testified that on one evening all he performed was a little sleight of hand, such as cutting a kerchief in half and then putting it back together. On the following evening he also played the guitar and castanets. Daniel indicated that he had gone to the castle because he'd been sent word that Andino asked for him expressly; and Andino had rewarded him for his performances. Asked if he understood the legal implications of being under oath, Daniel stated that he did, he was already a convert to Catholicism, and had given testimony under oath previously. He gave his age as about 25, and - as noted by the Spanish scribe who recorded the statement - 'signed it in his own language' as Anttony Danial.

Where was he from? How did he get there? How on earth did he end up as a song-and-dance man in a Spanish colony? What ever happened to him? Did he leave any descendants?

So many questions suggested by just a couple of paragraphs hastily read while searching for something else.

Whoever Antony Daniel was, it's a pity he was born three centuries too soon to become a performer on one of Royal Caribbean's cruises to San Juan.

SOURCE - Archivo General de Indias, Escribanía, Legajo 136C, p. 105

Del escudo de British Airways y la jurisdicción heráldica

El absoluto desamparo legal en que esta sumada la heráldica siempre me ha parecido hasta cierto punto consecuencia de un esnobismo a la inversa. La heráldica es percibida en ciertos sectores como algo exclusivo, minoritario, y por lo tanto - con contadísimas excepciones - los emblemas heráldicos no gozan de la protección dispensada bajo las leyes promulgadas por y para la mayoría.

Cierto es que la ciencia del blasón no facilita las cosas para brindar, ante su uso indebido, la misma protección a los escudos que a los logotipos comerciales. Simplemente por la infinidad de variaciones sutiles que pueden hallarse entre versiones de un mismo blasón, dibujados por dos artistas distintos. Pongamos por caso que uno fuera viticultor, que decidiera - como muchos - rotular las etiquetas del caldo propio con motivos heráldicos, y que el blasón elegido fuese: "Escudo Medio Partido y Cortado, 1º De Gules, una letra M mayúscula de Oro; 2º, de Azur, un ratón parado; 3º, de Oro, un cocodrilo de su color."

Si en base a este blasón, un artista le confeccionara el siguiente dibujo, no violaría el derecho de marcas (no digamos nada del buen gusto).

En cambio, por motivos obvios, esta representación - desde el punto de vista heráldico, igualmente válida - del blasón antecedente sí violaría la protección de marcas:

Pero aun en aquellos sitios - poquísimos - donde el vetusto blasón recibe algún grado de la protección dispensada a la humilde hamburguesa, las cosas no siempre son claras.

Como ha sido ampliamente difundido en los medios, British Airways ha recuperado su escudo para sus campanas publicitarias, y también ira colocándolo en los fuselajes de sus aviones.
 

Ahí sin embargo surge una interesante disyuntiva. La empresa se entiende, como indica su nombre, como la aerolínea de bandera BRITANICA, no solo inglesa. Sin embargo, su escudo ha sido certificado por los cronistas de armas ingleses, el College of Arms con sede en Londres. No ha sido, en cambio, matriculado ante la autoridad heráldica escocesa, el Lord Lyon. Que no es poca cosa, ya que el Lord Lyon tiene por ley auténticas garras dignas de su nombre, y ha podido pararle los pies hasta al millonario Donald Trump, cuando este pretendía engalanar los hoyos de un campo de golf que construya en Escocia con un escudo de dudoso orígen. Mr Trump que registre su escudo con el beneplácito de la autoridad competente, como toda persona física o legal escocesa.

Pareciera pues que además de poder multar a la empresa por cada avión de British Airways que aterrice en suelo escocés, el Lord Lyon podría además hacer algo equivalente a picar el escudo en una fachada, que en este caso me imagino podría ser borrarlos del fuselaje con aguarrás, o algo parecido.

Sin embargo, fuentes de entera solvencia (no, no lo digo por el aguarrás) me dicen que de hecho no contempla decir nada. ¿Por qué? Pues porque en muchos círculos se considera cada vez más probable un referéndum sobre la independencia escocesa, que a medio plazo tenga la disolución del Reino Unido como consecuencia; a saber cómo, en ese caso, se llamaría British Airways, pero en todo caso no parece probable que la opción elegida sea ¡Scottish Airways! Los aviones pasarían de ser aviones "British", que técnicamente incumplen en parte normativa heráldica de su país, a ser aviones extranjeros y no por tanto sujetos a la legislación heráldica escocesa. La dialéctica entre Edimburgo y Londres ya de por si es bastante amarga; acaso sea mejor no echar mas leña al fuego y tirarse los escudos a la cabeza, sino dejar que los acontecimientos resuelvan la cuestión.

Duchy Original: The Palma Title At Home and Abroad

With the alleged financial peccadilloes of the Duke of Palma de Mallorca receiving so much media attention, perhaps it's a good time to consider whether or not there is any such person.

Of course, any number of references may be found on the internet and in print media to Iñaki Urdangarín as 'Duke of Palma de Mallorca'. These are only potentially accurate inasmuch as he may be considered - at most - Duke Consort: the Royal Decree bestowing the Palma title for life on the Infanta Cristina, daughter of King Juan Carlos (the official text of which may be seen at this link) makes no mention whatsoever of the person to whom she shall be married; the Decree only says that the title is bestowed with occasion of her wedding.  

In earlier times the consequences of this would have been straightforward enough, but in 1987 Spain enacted a piece of legislation of the same degree in law, a Royal Decree regulating the titles, honours and forms of address of the royal family. Under Article 6 it specifies that the use of titles vested in the Crown will be 'personal and for life'. Most interestingly, this article was followed by a Transitory Disposition stating that:

- King Juan Carlos' father would continue to hold the title of Count of Barcelona for life; and (most importantly to the present matter)

- King Juan Carlos' mother would continue to receive the same title and corresponding honours.

The very fact that this Royal Decree mentions the King's mother, and the status to be accorded her, appears to be a tacit admission by those who prepare such things for the King's signature that some explicit mention of the King's mother was necessary in order for her husband's rank and precedence to extend to her; otherwise, it would not do so.

No such mention of the Infanta Cristina's husband is made in the Royal Decree granting her the Palma ducal title, nor does the 1987 Royal Decree governing titles and forms of address for the Spanish Royal Family take up this issue with a view to future marriages.

Earlier Spanish jurisprudence had held that 'husbands and wives shall enjoy the honours of their consorts' (Article 64 of the Civil Code) but this was repealed in 1981, and the wording of the 1987 Royal Decree seems to constitute admission by the Royal household of the fact that the new situation also extended to the consorts of those bearing titles vested in the crown. A well-known Spanish expert in matters nobiliary, the Count of los Acevedos, discusses this topic on page 71 of his work 'Historia y régimen jurídico de los títulos nobiliarios' as it applies to other Spanish titles of nobility. Previously the late Juan Balansó, a prolific writer and expert on the Spanish Royal family, had expressed in his 1998 work 'Los Diamantes de la Corona' the opinion that the royal sons-in-law were not strictly speaking entitled to be referred to with the ducal titles.

Of course, the law is one thing and custom something else. A Google advanced search of the Spanish Monarchy's official web site uncovers numerous instances of Iñaki Urdangarín being referred to as Duke of Palma, even in remarks made by his wife the Infanta; but it is noteworthy that the official biographical page about him, on the same site, does *not* refer to him by the title. In Spain as elsewhere people are accustomed to considering a Count's husband a Countess, and a Duchess' husband - apparently - a Duke. In the end one gets the feeling that the title was probably granted to the Infanta more with a view to providing her husband with precedence he would not otherwise enjoy at events outside Spain, and that little importance was attached to whether or not it made him a Duke under current Spanish law. If one assumes that in most other countries, to the extent that titles are even used or recognised at all, consorts do still receive the styles and forms of address accorded to their spouses, then - ironically - it may be more correct in a legal sense for foreign media to refer to Mr Urdangarín as the Duke of Palma, than it is for Spanish media to refer to him as el Duque de Palma and by so doing to flout the Civil Code and a pair of Royal Decrees.

Genealogical Oddities (III) - Yorkshire Lad in Cádiz: the Spanish marriage of a recusant baronet's son

Gascoigne of Parlington Hall

The records of the Spanish city of Cádiz are a veritable treasure trove for a wide-ranging swathe of genealogists. The city's pre-eminent commercial position in the 18th century attracted individuals from all over Europe, and the records left by its vibrant population of Irish 'Wild Geese' are well known to - and treasured by - researchers with an interest in Hibernian families.

This is far from being the extent of the non-Spanish gems in Cádiz records. Recently while examining records of Cádiz' cathedral I stumbled across a good example.

The marriage register for 1722-1729 bears on Page 219 an entry for the marriage, on 24 September 1727, of 'Don Juan Gascoygne' of 'Parlinton, Obispado Eboracense', son of John Gascoigne and María Widdrington; to 'Doña Margarita Patricia Ana María Ley', a native of Cádiz, daughter of Lorenzo Ley and Catalina Warnes. The witnesses were Fray Francisco Ley, of the Barefoot Franciscans, and Don Lorenzo Carew.

The connexions of both 'Lorenzos' - Lawrence Ley and Lawrence Carew (of the Waterford Carews) - have already been extensively analysed and written up in Spanish publications; but until now this link to the recusant Gascoignes of Parlington Hall had, I believe, escaped notice. This couple is mentioned in the published version of Dugdale's visitation of Yorkshire (Vol. III, P. 102) in which the bride's name is rendered as 'Anna Leigh' with no particulars of her origin or eventual fate.

Assorted publications state that John Gascoigne died in June 1729 without issue, but as no source is given for this information, nor is the place of death recorded, it would perhaps be as well to double-check this at some future date. His widow, Margarita Patricia Ley, remarried in 1730 and had at least one child by her second husband: Francisco de Paula VanHalen Ley.

SOURCES: Records of the Sagrario chapel, Cathedral of Cádiz - J.W. Clay, Dugdale's Visitation of Yorkshire, With Additions (1917) - Index to wills, Archivo Histórico Provincial de Cádiz - Fréderique Morand, Doña María Gertrudis Hore (1742-1801), vivencia de una poetisa gaditana entre el siglo y la clausura (2003)

An Insult Rampant quartering an Affront Displayed

Moves to 'Disneyfy' Austria's embarassingly belligerent coat of arms may follow on the heels of this campaign to modify the country's national anthem, as perceptively noted by Austrian MP Carmen Gartelgruber. It won't do to persist in offending everyone in Piedmont, Moravia or any other territory long ago overrun by Austrians. This campaign to 'update' national symbols mirrors a wave of heraldic alterations requested or enacted in the last few years, the most recent of which is presumably that launched in Flanders.

One wonders if, having successfully emasculated national and local arms, those who fret about such things will move on to personal arms as well. Are French visitors to Blenheim Palace perhaps offended by seeing the French fleur-de-lys in an escutcheon on the Duke of Marlborough's arms? Off with his augmentation! Caribbean islanders may demand that any reference to their islands be removed from the Columbus coat of arms, or better still that the whole be simply painted blood-red as a mark of shame.

Arms of the city of Putnok (Hungary)

And the heraldry of other countries, such as Spain and Hungary, is no doubt replete with opportunities for hurt feelings; Hungarian heraldry in particular displays a distressing profusion of severed Turks' heads, for no better reason than that the entire country was once actually overrun by, and subsequently reconquered from, the Turks - can't have that!

A coat of arms may be based upon any number of rationales: it may represent what a lineage or an individual stands for, decisive moments in national or family history, or a personal interest or accomplishment of the first bearer - to the extent that one can even learn the rationale for the most ancient ones, passed down unquestioningly for so many generations that the original meaning is now a mystery. Of course, such inmutability does not mesh well with the modern trend to stand for nothing, to pliantly turn whichever way the wind blows, and to conform to ever greater homogeneity so that we all eat, read, wear and watch the same things. It seems then that if carried to its logical conclusion heraldic tampering will eventually require that the arms of all persons, regions and nations be strenuously refined to the point of not possibly offending anyone anywhere. I leave you with the following inspiring example of the New Heraldry: