Thickest of all - 3 April 2009 |
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The folly of the British government during the mid-to-late 18th century, as recounted in the 4th chapter of Tuchman’s The March of Folly, was rather mild compared to the depths plumbed by the Rennaisance papacy (the subject of the previous chapter). Nonetheless, this period of British colonial rule produced more than its fair share of embarrassments.
One underlying cause can probably be identified as the process of parlimentary appointment. Far from being selected from the people, by the people, and for the people, Members of Parliament 250 years ago gained their seats in a similar manner to the papal officials of pre-Reformation Rome – largely on the basis of personal connection. It’s not what you know, but who you know.
British Ministers, says Tuchman,
knew each other from school and university, were related through chains of cousins, in-laws, stepparents and siblings of second and third marriages, married each other’s sisters, daughters and widows and consistently exchanged mistresses (a Mrs. Armstead served in that role to Lord George Germain, to his nephew the Duke of Dorset, to Lord Derby, to the Prince of Wales and to Charles James Fox, whom she eventually married), appointed each other to office and secured for each other places and pensions. (p. 134)
Hardly the way to guarantee a high calibre intake to a vocation wherein lay the power to decide the future of the nation.
The Old School Tie was apparently among the most significant passorts to political office:
Of some 27 persons who filled high office in the period 1760-80, twenty had attended either Eton or Westminster, went on either to Christ Church or Trinity College at Oxford or to Trinity or Kings at Cambridge, followed in most cases by the Grand Tour in Europe. (p. 134)
Blood may be thicker than water; but Pimms on the Isis or champage on the Cam is apparently thicker than either.
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Posted by Steve Jeffery · Topics: Books, Minister's Blog, The March of Folly