Counties of England — ranked
It’s a debate that has raged for centuries — every university campus, metropolitan literary salon and down heel back street boozer in the country has been aflame engaging in the same conflict. Sure, everyone thinks that their county is the best one, but what is the truth?
Everyone in the country has a dog in this fight, and such are the passions aroused, there’s every chance that this could be a fight to the death. I’ve stepped into the theatre of knack to resolve the dispute forever, to answer the eternal question. You may not like what you see, but this is to be definitive and permanent. There will be blood.
And yet, upon hearing ejaculations from a certain type of urban cynic and naysayer, you’d be forgiven for thinking that counties are indistinct, irrelevant and uninteresting. ‘You can arrive anywhere in England and not have a single clue where you are,” they’ll say. “All you’ll see is the same collection of uniform chain stores and cafes, bookmakers and pawnbrokers. We’ve allowed this country, length and breadth, to become a bland, identikit purgatory.’
What guff. Counties are magic.
But which is the best one? Which is the worst one? Which one is Rutland?
Read on.
Towns and cities will be allocated to their historical county. We’ll have no Humbersides, Merseysides or Clevelands here.
Bedfordshire
No. I’m not having Bedfordshire. Any county that has Luton as its principal town is going nowhere fast in this compendium.
Bedfordshire’s claim to fame: John Bunyon wrote The Pilgrim’s Progress in Bedford Gaol. Quite good, that one.
Bedfordshire’s representative on Earth: Stephen Yaxley Lennon, violent racist.
Rank: 36th
Berkshire
The royal family spends a lot of time there, which knocks it down a few places. Lots of ‘blue chip’ global companies have their HQ in Reading. Whatever.
Berkshire’s claim to fame: Oscar Wilde wrote The Ballad of Reading Gaol there. Guess where he was at the time?
Berkshire’s representative on Earth: Jeremy Kyle, ghoul.
Rank: 32nd
Buckinghamshire
If you live in West London (as I did for many years) and you need to visit family in the midlands (as I did) you’ll have driven through Buckinghamshire a lot. That’s all I’ve got.
Buckinghamshire’s claim to fame: Alan Turing helped turn the tide of World War II at Bletchley Park. He was later chemically castrated by the state he saved, and later committed suicide.
Buckinghamshire’s representative on Earth: Dominic Raab, vein owner.
Rank: 25th
Cambridgeshire
A nice one, Cambridgeshire. Cambridge is a beautiful city — the university buildings are as ancient and grand as the institution’s reputation. Outside the city, bucolic wonders abound as far as the eye can see. And the eye can see pretty damn far because there are no hills. A solid county, let down solely by the existence of Peterborough railway station.
Cambridgeshire’s claim to fame: the aforementioned university ought to do it.
Cambridgeshire’s representative on Earth: Olivia Newton-John, Pink Lady.
Rank: 6th
Cheshire
Footballers in big houses. Welsh people with Scouse accents. Next.
Cheshire’s claim to fame: a zoo.
Cheshire’s representative on Earth: Gary Barlow, tax-efficient crooner.
Rank: 24th
Cornwall
Lovely Cornwall. It’s a bit too lovely though, right? You can often judge the quality of a county based on the calibre of people who buy second homes there. On this metric Cornwall is left floundering, its reputation in ashes. Oh, and surfers. Surfers are twats the world over — British surfers though — yuk. They’re like people who go skiing in Scotland — if you’re going to participate in a wild and dangerous (read tedious and impossible) hobby, at least do so at a venue where there’s a chance that you’ll be dismembered by a shark or break your pelvis, dickhead.
Cornwall’s claim to fame: its friendly local arsonists who know where all the second homes are located. Some crucial ranking points salvaged there.
Cornwall’s representative on Earth: John Nettles, Bergerac.
Rank: 33rd
County Durham
It’s a bold move, leading with ‘County’, but I like it. I wouldn’t want to see it replicated elsewhere, but here it marks Durham out as strong and unbiddable. It’s very high above sea level and therefore totally freezing at all times, but it has a dark, stony beauty that marks it as a challenger.
County Durham’s claim to fame: a big old cathedral.
County Durham’s representative on Earth: Tony Blair, Ugly Rumour.
Rank: 8th
Cumbria
The lakes! The hills! The sheep! The nuclear weapons! That just about covers it.
Cumbria’s claim to fame: The nuclear weapons again!
Cumbria’s representative on Earth: Emlyn Hughes, tongue-tipper.
Rank: 20th
Derbyshire
As we will see, whether or not a county is landlocked can be all-important in establishing its true position. Here Derbyshire does its hopes no harm at all. The village of Coton in the Elms is the settlement in England that’s further from the sea than any other. That village is in Derbyshire. I can offer no higher praise.
Derbyshire’s claim to fame: what, you want another one?
Derbyshire’s representative on Earth: John Hurt, not an animal. A human.
Rank: 4th
Devon
A more palatable version of Cornwall really. The offering is the same, just a bit less so, and I’m all for that. The phone signal is better in Devon too. A firm upgrade on its neighbour.
Devon’s claim to fame: clotted cream, it says here.
Devon’s representative on Earth: Sir Walter Raleigh, pirate.
Rank: 15th
Dorset
The best of all the south coast counties. It has the same beauty but none of the snark of its western neighbours. Dorset is a gentle snapshot of what non-English people imagine England to be like. When they’re not cowering in European town squares, dodging flying chairs thrown by sunburnt, overweight bald Englishmen who are upset about a football match.
Dorset’s claim to fame: fossils. Loads of fossils.
Dorset’s representative on Earth: Thomas Hardy, Wessex man.
Rank: 10th
Essex
We all know the cliches — gaudy loudmouths; classless, shallow, tacky displays of material wealth; mindless violence wrapped in Hugo Boss and bad cocaine — and sure, if you’re looking for that you’ll no doubt find it. However, there’s more to Essex than Saffron Walden, Manningtree and Kelvedon. There are less well known places, such as Harlow and Romford, where people lead a more gentle life.
Essex’s claim to fame: fibre optics, apparently.
Essex’s representative on Earth: Damon Albarn, country sad ballad man.
Rank: 13th
Gloucestershire
Another county that lets itself down on account of the number of royals buzzing within it. There’s nothing wrong with it, as such, it’s just that there’s not much right with it either. The river Severn runs through it, and that’s not nothing, but it’s far from being everything. Mid-table.
Gloucestershire’s claim to fame: Dancing Ken. A Cheltenham eccentric (called Ken), who danced at traffic lights.
Gloucestershire’s representative on Earth: Eddie ‘the Eagle’ Edwards, James Joyce lookalike.
Rank: 14th
Greater London
This is the only non-traditional county that I’m allowing. It’s a big old place, and it does have an identity of its own.
On one hand, London is one of the world’s most important, powerfully significant cities: an unrivalled centre for arts, culture, learning, finance, cuisine; a nexus for people of all and every global culture — more languages are spoken here than any other city on Earth; all of life is here. On the other hand, there are some positives — you can get a tube to Chessington World of Adventures and there’s a shop in Leicester Square that only sells M&Ms.
Greater London’s claim to fame: there is a city in Ontario that’s also called London.
Greater London’s representative on Earth: Dick Whittington, puss in boots.
Rank: 7th
Hampshire
I’m not really sure what the point of Hampshire is. There appears to be a single-lane motorway to get there, and when you’re on it you wonder why you could ever have made such a bad decision.
Hampshire’s claim to fame: the Spitfire.
Hampshire’s representative on Earth: Jane Austen, satirist.
Rank: 16th
Herefordshire
A hated local rival to a much better county. It’s landlocked, it has cows. That’s it. Pathetic.
Herefordshire’s claim to fame: the no-mark SAS.
Herefordshire’s representative on Earth: Fred West, ice cream van savage.
Rank: 21st
Hertfordshire
All of these home counties are totally shit, and this is no exception. It’s basically a massive housing estate for families who used to live in North London but were worried they might learn something from recent migrants. No sale. Terrible place.
Hertfordshire’s claim to fame: home to the world’s oldest mechanised paper mill. Told you.
Hertfordshire’srepresentative on Earth: Peter the Wild Boy, a tattooed boy from Berkhamsted.
Rank: 27th
Isle of Wight
Seriously? Either we’re doing this or we’re not. Utterly ludicrous.
Isle of Wight’s claim to fame: motorcycles…or is that the Isle of Man? It doesn’t matter.
Isle of Wight’s representative on Earth: Polly Toynbee, journalist and Wighter.
Rank: 34th
Kent
One crowning achievement here: the repeated refusal of Kent’s voters to elect Nigel Farage to parliament. Good, hilarious work. That Farage identified Kent as offering his greatest chance of success is somewhat more problematic. Let’s leave it there.
Kent’s claim to fame: it contains England’s smallest town, Fordwich.
Kent’s representative on Earth: Keith Richards, sympathetic old devil.
Rank: 26th
Lancashire
A big beast. Manchester and Liverpool are being included as Lancashire cities, and that gives the place some cultural heft. There is no doubt that the county has outperformed its size on the global stage. I have no shade to toss its way. A good county.
Lancashire’s claim to fame: Preston has the largest bus station in Europe.
Lancashire’s representative on Earth: Fred Dibnah, destroyer.
Rank: 2nd
Leicestershire
A kind of downscale version of Derbyshire. The bones of Richard III are a definite advantage, but there’s not much else to recommend it.
Leicestershire’s claim to fame: Leicester City’s Premier League win in 2016 was a bit special.
Leicestershire’s representative on Earth: Joe Orton, ear pricker-upper.
Rank: 22nd
Lincolnshire
We’ll race through this one. There, done.
Lincolnshire’s claim to fame: Scunthorpe and the office swear filter.
Lincolnshire’s representative on Earth: Margaret Thatcher, sadist.
Rank: 28th
Norfolk
An unfairly maligned county in many ways. It’s easy to talk about mangled vowels, inbreeding the opium trade, but Norfolk has a unique charm. Its people are generally kind and hospitable, and it benefits from being such a pain in the arse to get to and around. A secret treasure.
Norfolk’s claim to fame: the broads are filthy.
Norfolk’s representative on Earth: Diana, Princess of Wales, queen of hearts.
Rank: 3rd
Northamptonshire
Shoes and Formula One.
Northamptonshire’s claim to fame: shoes and Formula One.
Northamptonshire’s representative on Earth: Nanette Newman, liquid fairy.
Rank: 31st
Northumberland
One of only two counties to have a border with Scotland.
Northumberland’s claim to fame: castles, maybe?
Northumberland’s representative on Earth: Billy Pigg, piper.
Rank: 35th
Nottinghamshire
Robin Hood, Robin Hood, Riding through the glen, Robin Hood, Robin Hood, With his band of men, Feared by the bad, loved by the good, Robin Hood! Robin Hood! Robin Hood!
Nottinghamshire’s claim to fame: miners crossing picket lines.
Nottinghamshire’s representative on Earth: Su Pollard, holiday camp attendant.
Rank: 17th
Oxfordshire
A pretty county with a dark underbelly. Home to half the Cotswolds and some villages of remarkable pulchritude. The university is obviously world-class. But let’s take a look at some of the people who have chosen to make the place their home, starting with Jeremy Clarkson and ending with David Cameron. Case closed.
Oxfordshire’s claim to fame: the university again.
Oxfordshire’s representative on Earth: Tim Henman, bottler.
Rank: 23rd
Rutland
England’s smallest county.
Rutland’s claim to fame: see above.
Rutland’s representative on Earth: Janet Erskine Stuart, nun.
Rank: 37th
Shropshire
The Big One. The Best One. England’s largest landlocked county. England’s finest county. Birthplace of industry. Birthplace of the modern Olympic Games. Birthplace of Charles Darwin. Birthplace of your correspondent. Those blue remembered hills. What a county. What a county.
Shropshire’s representative on Earth: Wilfred Owen, dulce et decorum est pro comitatus mori.
Rank: 1st
Somerset
Somerset is cool. Cider, skittles, eccentric locals. Love all that.
Somerset’s claim to fame: ley lines, man.
Somerset’s representative on Earth: John Cleese, comedy legend (no longer funny).
Rank: 11th
Staffordshire
It ought to be good, but it isn’t. Every time I’ve found myself in Staffordshire the weather has been hostile and the people have been a disgrace. What frames this fearful symmetry? Cannock and Wolverhampton, that’s what. No dice.
Staffordshire’s claim to fame: Tamworth used to be the capital of England.
Staffordshire’s representative on Earth: Stan Collymore, Cannock chaser.
Rank: 30th
Suffolk
Suffolk is essentially Norfolk for people who can’t handle the truth. It has all the same qualities, all the same quirks, but it’s all somehow diluted. Go there, but keep moving northwards.
Suffolk’s claim to fame: we’ve been to Sutton Hoo, we’ve followed Mr. Shoe, Sutton Hoo…
Suffolk’s representative on Earth: St. Edmund, patron saint of England.
Rank: 19th
Surrey
The worst of all the counties. The very worst. It’s essentially a giant golf course. Not just a golf course — a golf club — with all the residents (or members) exactly as you’d fear. Their idea of edgy would’ve been appearing in the audience of TFI Friday in 1997. A pox on this county, and all its MPs. Be gone, Surrey. Be gone.
Surrey’s claim to fame: Men Behaving Badly was set in Guildford.
Surrey’s representative on Earth: John Terry, prick.
Rank: last. Bottom. The worst. 38th.
Sussex
It’s difficult to excite the senses about this one, one way or the other. Brighton’s OK, but it’s full of those people (I refer here not to the gays, of whom I’m all in favour, but to the people who move there from London and expect those they leave behind to react to them as though they’ve embarked upon an Antarctic expedition when they make it to work in Clerkenwell before 11am for the first time that month.)
Sussex’s claim to fame: bellboy!
Sussex’s representative on Earth: Brett Anderson, he was born as a pantomime horse.
Rank: 29th
Warwickshire
SEYTON
The queen, my lord, is dead.
MACBETH
She should have died hereafter.
There would have been a time for such a word.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Warwickshire’s claim to fame: it contains Bodymoor Heath, Aston Villa’s training facility.
Warwickshire’s representative on Earth: William Shakespeare, Earl of Oxford.
Rank: 5th
Wiltshire
This is England’s second-largest landlocked county. You know what second place gets you in a struggle like this, Wiltshire, don’t you? It gets you eff all! Hahahahahaha! Dickheads. Tiny dickheads.
Wiltshire’s claim to fame: Stonehenge is quite good.
Wiltshire’s representative on Earth: Douglas Hurd, poor quality degree.
Rank: 12th
Worcestershire
A low-quality county to the south east of a far superior neighbour. Parts of it look fine. Parts of it look positively OK. It has Kidderminster (and Redditch) in it though.
Worcestershire’s claim to fame: carpets.
Worcestershire’s representative on Earth: A.E Housman, a Shropshire lad.
Rank: 18th
Yorkshire
Like its neighbour, Lancashire, there’s no denying the impact this place has had on the country and the world. Its ponderosity is made all the greater by the size of the chip it has on its shoulder compared to its red rose neighbour (who has a really long war about the colour of roses anyway? Mad). I have no doubt that there are many great things about Yorkshire, I’ve just never seen or read about them. Top ten by virtue of size alone.
Yorkshire’s claim to fame: a bland pudding.
Yorkshire’s representative on Earth: William Hague, pint downer.
Rank: 9th
So that’s it. The issue is settled. Let this be a reference point for future generations, and let us never take up arms again to combat this plague. Above and below lies the truth, unchanging and eternal.
County league table
Shropshire
Lancashire
Norfolk
Derbyshire
Warwickshire
Cambridgeshire
Greater London
County Durham
Yorkshire
Dorset
Somerset
Wiltshire
Essex
Gloucestershire
Devon
Hampshire
Nottinghamshire
Worcestershire
Suffolk
Cumbria
Herefordshire
Leicestershire
Oxfordshire
Cheshire
Buckinghamshire
Kent
Hertfordshire
Lincolnshire
Sussex
Staffordshire
Northamptonshire
Berkshire
Cornwall
Isle of Wight
Northumberland
Bedfordshire
Rutland
Surrey. The worst of all the counties.
