Bored of the Bayeux Tapestry? Meet the current high-society clans whose ancestors came over with William the Conquerer

‘Kind hearts are more than coronets,’ Alfred, Lord Tennyson decreed, ‘and simple faith than Norman blood.’ But nearly a millennium after 1066, that hardy Norman blood is very much back in the spotlight. A landmark exhibition of the Bayeux Tapestry at the British Museum and is already breaking records, with members of the public facing nine-hour online queues for tickets to see the nearly 70-metre-long artwork that tells the tale of the Battle of Hastings.

Norman fever is strong and no wonder: consider the victory of William the Conqueror and his crossbow-carrying army in context. In 1066, England’s population was 2 million and yet the estimated 10,000 Normans whom William led over the Channel overpowered the natives with little difficulty. The re-ordering of English society was swift and ruthless. As the Domesday Book of 1086 makes plain, 20 years later the English were almost entirely gone from the upper echelons of society, supplanted by thousands of foreign newcomers who had simply requisitioned their lands and houses. As many as 400 ships full of English nobles sailed forth to seek refuge in Constantinople and, of the richest landowners remaining, only 13 were of Anglo-Saxon stock.

But perhaps even more extraordinary than this upending of society is just how many of the families who seized power in 1066 are still prominent today. The Norman story is no dusty relic behind museum glass: no, the conquering descendants still dominate society in 2026 with the same ease with which their alpha ancestors dominated the locals almost a millennium ago. They glitter at the most exclusive parties; possess titles; occupy the country’s grandest estates; and assert themselves in all manner of fields – from arts and culture to finance and AI. Whatever Lord Tennyson might say, that Norman blood must have something going for it.

The Cholmondeleys have a strong case to claim their spot as the grandest family of the 1066 club. Established at Cholmondeley, Cheshire, in the late 11th century, their coffers swelled through marriage; Cholmondeley Castle was supplemented by Houghton Hall (built between 1723 and 1735) when the 3rd Earl of Cholmondeley married into the family of Sir Robert Walpole.

The 4th Earl married into the Bertie family in 1791 and, when a marquessate was subsequently bestowed in 1815, the rotating office of Lord Great Chamberlain came into the family – an ‘access all areas’-type backstage role during state occasions, including dressing the king and walking backwards in front of him. The same, rather wild marquess was said to be the inspiration for the dashing, heavy-gambling Rawdon Crawley in William Makepeace Thackeray’s Vanity Fair (he was not the only Norman descendant to inspire a great character of English literature) and also had a (productive) affair with the exciting Scottish courtesan Grace Dalrymple Elliot, who smuggled aristocrats out of revolutionary France.

The family’s fortunes appeared to flag by the turn of the 20th century, with Houghton falling into desuetude. But, in 1913, rescue came by way of the 5th Marquess’s marriage to the fabulous tastebroker Sybil Sassoon, who brought both style and some very welcome Rothschild money to shore up the properties.

The present, very glamorous Marchioness, Rose (née Hanbury), bears an uncanny resemblance to the chic Sybil. A former model, Rose wed the 7th Marquess, David, in 2009 – just two days after they announced their engagement. The couple have twin sons and a daughter and reside at Houghton; the Prince and Princess of Wales are their ‘neighbours’ at Anmer Hall, just four miles away. They have sometimes been less kindly referred to as ‘turnip toffs’, the name given to the royal inner-circle in Norfolk. But no matter, those connections are still strong – and centuries deep. Little Lord Oliver Cholmondeley served as a page of honour at the King’s coronation. His slightly older twin, the Earl of Rocksavage, will have his day as Lord Great Chamberlain when the role comes back to the Cholmondeleys. (It currently rotates among three families.)

If the Cholmondeleys are Norman England’s great survivors, the FitzGeralds occupy much the same position across the Irish Sea. These Normans, known as the Knights of Glin, clearly had a taste for the cut and thrust of battle and played a key role in the 12th century Anglo-Norman invasion of Ireland. They settled in Limerick and, by marrying frequently into the Gaelic aristocracy, the Knights of Glin went on to become more Irish than the Irish. The family survived countless sackings and repossessions of Glin Castle over the centuries but, in 2011, the 29th Knight, renowned art historian Desmond FitzGerald, who – along with Desmond Guinness – had saved Georgian Ireland from the bulldozers, died.

For the first time in 600 years, the knight had departed this earthly realm without a male heir. The title is now extinct. Fortunately the castle failed to sell at auction, allowing the knight’s eldest daughter, garden designer Catherine FitzGerald, and her husband, actor Dominic West, to come to the castle’s financial aid.

Today, Glin Castle is run both as a family home and venue for hire. The FitzGeralds are an artistic lot. Green-fingered Catherine designs the gardens of the five-star Ballyfin Demesne hotel. Her daughter Dora is painting a mural for garden design icon Lady Mary Keen. And four of the FitzGerald/West children recently performed – alongside the Bolza children of the famous Italian hotel Reschio – in a musical written by Old Etonian Dominic to raise money for a foundation that supports young performers in accessing training. The eldest son, Senan, has followed his father into acting, portraying Prince William in The Crown alongside Dominic as Prince Charles. Were the arguably sexist tradition of primogeniture revised in Ireland – as Queen Elizabeth II ensured it was in the British Royal family – Senan could one day become the next Knight of Glin and restore this Norman dynasty.

Few Norman families have such an eventful history as the appropriately named Hastings-Basses. The founder of the House of Hastings was Robert de Hastings, steward to William. Henry VIII elevated George Hastings to the title of Earl of Huntingdon in 1529. George’s granddaughter Mary Hastings narrowly avoided marriage to Tsar Ivan the Terrible of Russia; the pitting on her complexion from a bout of smallpox put off the Grand Prince of Moscow.

The 16th Earl of Huntingdon, father of biographer Lady Selina Hastings, infuriated his family by becoming an artist and a communist and living for four years with Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo. When Sir William Bass, 2nd Baronet, died in 1952, he left his estate to his wife’s nephew, Peter Hastings, uniting the two storied families. Those Hastings-Basses making their mark in 2026 include Peter’s granddaughter, broadcaster Clare Balding, and Clare’s nephew Jonno, the up-and-coming rugby player, who stands an astonishing 6ft 9in tall. It’s that Norman stock.

But when it comes to society glitter, the Norman-survivors who have truly proved their mettle on the social scene are the Beauforts, who can trace their roots right back to William the Conqueror. The current 12th Duke, Harry – ‘Bunter’ to his friends – reigns, as Beauforts have done since the 17th century, at the 116-room Badminton House in Gloucestershire. His unabashed memoir, The Unlikely Duke, depicts a world where PG Wodehouse and Ian Fleming characters collide. Harry’s father, David Somerset, aka the ‘Dude of Beaufort’, inherited from the 10th duke, dubbed ‘Master’, who led the Beaufort hunt for 60 years. After his death in 1984, anti-hunting activists attempted to dig up the body in a futile attempt to outrage the eccentric family. No such luck: these Norman victors have resilience threaded through their DNA.

This year, Harry’s second wife, Georgia, organised the RHS Flower Show’s move from Hampton Court to Badminton. The grand house is versatile: used for the Horse Trials, as a film set (The Gentlemen, Bridgerton and, most recently, The Other Bennet Sister) and a wedding venue. Georgia herself can claim a bloodline even older than her husband’s. She is the granddaughter of Anthony Powell, celebrated author of the A Dance to the Music of Time series and a keen genealogist, who traced his ancestry back to pre-Norman Gwriad ap Elidyr, an 8th-century Welsh chieftain.

Then there are those whose Norman bloodline comes as a surprise, even to themselves. The discovery in 2012 of Richard III’s body in a car park in Leicester led scientists to link Old Harrovian Benedict Cumberbatch to the Plantagenet monarch through the king’s mother, Cecily Neville, the daughter of Joan Beaufort. The actor could thereby track his bloodline to William the Conqueror.

The Beauchamps can trace their lineage back to Walter de Beauchamp, who fought alongside William on Senlac Hill. The moated Madresfield Court in Worcestershire has been in the Lygon family for 600 years. William Lygon, 7th Earl Beauchamp, born in 1872, was a high-flier in the Liberal party until his brother-in-law, the 2nd Duke of Westminster (more on this family to come), became jealous of his high offices and domestic happiness with seven children. So he publicly denounced his rival as a homosexual to King George V. The King reportedly responded: ‘Why, I thought people like that always shot themselves.’ Later, the duke used the spiteful epithet ‘b****r-in-law’ when writing to Beauchamp.

Back then, homosexuality was illegal and Beauchamp had to go into exile abroad. His wife, the countess, had a nervous breakdown as the scandal unfolded and retired to a darkened room at her brother’s Cheshire estate. So the seven children, ostracised from society, stayed on in Madresfield unparented until 1936, when the warrant for their father’s arrest was lifted and he returned. He painted out his wife’s image from the fresco in the personal chapel and the family threw her bust into the moat.

The drama made its mark on English literature: the earl’s son Hugh was the inspiration for the ill-fated Sebastian Flyte in Evelyn Waugh’s novel Brideshead Revisited and Madresfield the inspiration for Brideshead.

Today, Lucy Chenevix-Trench, great niece of the 8th Earl, resides at the house with her husband John and opens the house and garden, along with a restaurant, to the public. Although the historical male line of the Anglo-Norman dynasty is extinct, they are the 29th generation to live at Madresfield. Lucy’s sister Sarah married into the even more ancient Scrope family. Amusingly, ω ϖthe Scropes, untitled yet one of the grandest families in England (they appear in Shakespeare), are also of Norman descent.

The Berkeleys are rare among the Norman crop: an English family, still living, after 27 generations, in the royal manor originally granted by William the Conqueror to an enterprising ancestor who somehow managed to ingratiate himself with the Norman king.

Berkeley Castle in Gloucestershire is the oldest in England to be continuously family-owned and occupied. The current incumbents are Charles Berkeley, his wife, Daisy (née Dick), and their daughter, Mary. Daisy is a British three-day eventing rider who won a team bronze medal at the 2008 Olympic Games and recently, after a 16-year break, made a celebrated return to the elite 5* level at the 2026 Badminton Horse Trials.

Surprising Normans abound, but actress Courteney Cox has to be the most unexpected. Famous for her portrayal of Monica Geller in Friends, she learnt that she is an 18th-generation direct descendant of Thomas de Berkeley, 3rd Baron Berkeley while filming the genealogy show Who Do You Think You Are?

But when it comes to access to monarchy, of all Norman families, it is the Norfolks who come up trumps. This ancient family has not only maintained wealth, influence and status over nearly 1,000 years, but also an extraordinary intimacy with the institution the Conquest created. William de Warenne, 1st Earl of Surrey, was William’s greatest companion and fought beside him at Hastings. Now, de Warenne’s descendant, the 18th Duke of Norfolk, Edward Fitzalan-Howard, in his capacity as Earl Marshal, stages the rituals of the crown for William’s descendants, the Windsors. He not only organised the coronation of King Charles, but also the state funeral of Queen Elizabeth II in 2022.

After 35 years of marriage to Georgie Gore, the mother of his five children, Edward is now married to Francesca Herbert, whose ex Harry (in the criss-crossed way of the upper echelons) is married to Irish chef Clodagh McKenna. Norfolk’s heir, Henry Arundel, runs his own insurance company in the Sussex market town that’s home to the family seat of Arundel Castle. But the family has an arty streak. The duke’s sister Lady Carina was married to the broadcaster and socialite David Frost, and junior art dealer Joseph Braka, son of art world supremos Camilla Davidson and Ivor Braka, is the 15th duke’s great grandson.

But enough of English Norman toffs! Across the border, the ancient Scottish family of Lindsay can boast Flemish ancestors descended from Charlemagne, who were key fighters in 1066. These fierce cavalry and archers provided essential backup for William’s less powerful Norman infantry.

Later, while the true Normans remained in England, the modernising King David I of Scotland beckoned the Lindsays and other Flemish north to tame and take over Scotland. The grand clans of Alba – Fraser, Fleming, Cameron, Campbell and Montgomerie – all have Flemish origins. The Lindsays gained the earldom of Crawford in the 14th century and were given control of swathes of country from Dumfriesshire to Angus.

For the next seven centuries, the family remained central in matters of state, earning them the Earldom of Balcarres in the 17th century. They showed prowess in the military, collected art, formed libraries, developed some of the largest coal mines and ironworks, and pioneered scientific and technological developments in the 19th century. The current crop is a daring sort. Father Ludovic and his sons Merlin (head of AI at Velocity, a fintech startup) and Cosmo (founder of bespoke supplements company Particular) all enjoy fast cars and can be spotted racing at Goodwood.

But for sheer financial might, there’s simply no contest. The Grosvenors are the Norman knights who became one of Britain’s wealthiest dynasties. They can trace their lineage back to Gilbert le Grosveneur – the nephew of Hugh Lupus, companion and head huntsman to William the Conqueror. Their Norman connections granted them lucrative land in Cheshire, but it was the 1677 marriage of Sir Thomas Grosvenor, 21, to 12-year-old Mary Davies that put them on the money map. Her dowry included 500 acres of marshy farmland west of London. This boggy land eventually became the highly valuable Mayfair and Belgravia districts, which still bring in a multi-million-pound income for the Grosvenor family today. And, by the way, the marriage was a happy one.

The 6th Duke, philanthropist and general do-gooder Gerald Grosvenor, grew up in Omagh, Northern Ireland, an aspiring beef farmer with no thought of inheriting the dukedom. But, due to the deaths of his uncle (the 4th Duke) and cousin, the title unexpectedly passed to Gerald’s father, Robert, making Gerald the heir. A lifelong smoker, Gerald lived modestly in Cheshire, sending his children to state primary schools. His son and heir, Hugh, now 35, was once pronounced the world’s richest person under 30. He married Marlborough College-educated Olivia Henson in 2024; the couple now have a daughter, Lady Cosima Florence Grosvenor. Hugh’s sisters are Lady Tamara, Lady Edwina and Lady Viola. They have inherited their father’s philanthropic temperament. Lady Edwina, married to history buff Dan Snow, is a prison reformer, while Lady Viola is an ambassador for the anti-bullying charity Kidscape.

And so the Norman web stretches on. The Bayeux Tapestry may be the hottest ticket this autumn, but the Conquest’s greatest monument is not hanging on the walls of the British Museum. It is the extraordinary fact that, almost 1,000 years after William the Conqueror crossed the Channel, the descendants of the Norman king and his companions still help crown kings, own vast estates, shape Britain’s cultural life – and, of course, appear in the pages of the magazine you hold in your hand. The tapestry records the Conquest; the upper echelons are, in many ways, still living it.

Additional research by Andrew Rollo. This feature was first published in the October 2026 issue of Tatler.