That is an odd title for a posting on the Conservative History blog but, let us not forget, that song is now history, though fairly recent, and Bob Dylan is seen as something of a conservative by many.


Anyway, to our muttons: despite my previous postings about the printed version of the Conservative History Journal, its appearance (and a very fine appearance it is, too) has little to do with me. For various reasons of convenience the editorship has passed on to Nigel Fletcher, who is also Director of the Conservative History Group.

The new issue has articles about Peel, Disraeli, Sir Stafford Northcote, Churchill and Macmillan. If some of those names sound familiar to readers of the journal, that is not surprising. They are some of the most important names in the history of the Conservative Party.

People who have sent me articles will not be short-change, though. For another big change will be taking place almost immediately. This blog (with its secondary cousin, the blog of long articles) is undergoing an important reconstruction and is being turned into a much better and richer site. Thus there will be two outlets of conservative history, which can only be a good thing. We hope that the relationship between the two will be friendlier than that between Peel and Disraeli or Heath and Thatcher.

Tory Historian will still be running the blog but there will be other articles posted by various people, including and especially the articles that are already in my folder marked CHJ 2011. I shall also start a more ferocious campaign to make the site better known in conservative and historical circles in this and other countries. Militant conservatism is a formidable thing to behold.

Forward to the sunny heights.

It is surely no secret to anyone who is interested in the politics and satire of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries that both used to be a good deal nastier and politicians did not complain when they were accused of all sorts of highly unpleasant, anti-social, disgraceful and, sometimes, illegal activity in the most outspoken fashion. The same went for members of society as a whole.


One of the funniest and nastiest of cartoonists was James Gillray and the news that the Victoria and Albert Museum has acquired an album of forty "suppressed" cartoons by that master of invective and satire is very good, indeed.
An album of 40 ‘suppressed’ cartoons by leading British caricaturist James Gillray (1756-1815) has recently come to light in the Criminal Law Policy Unit of the Ministry of Justice. It features material judged socially unacceptable in the 19th century - including explicitly sexual, scatological and politically outrageous subject matter. The album was probably seized by police more than a century ago as ‘pornographic material’ and handed to Government officials. This slim volume of ‘Curiosa’ has now been transferred to the print collections of the Victoria and Albert Museum, V&A.
Having seen what was acceptable in those far-off days, Tory Historian is perplexed as to what might have been "unacceptable" enough to have been suppressed and hidden. One can but hope that these "unacceptable" cartoons will be on show though not, perhaps, to politicians who will find them rather unpleasant.

And talking of the Victoria and Albert Museum, Tory Historian has also found a note about an exhibition that would have been unthinkable a few decades ago: cartoons and covers from Private Eye on its fiftieth anniversary that is due this autumn. To think that of that naughty satirical magazine that was, for many years, not stocked by W. H. Smith because of fears of libel becoming part of the establishment to the point of being honoured by one of our major museums. How are the mighty fallen. Here is an article in Vanity Fair by Christopher Hitchens.


VJ Day was yesterday but Tory Historian was a little busy. Celebration is, therefore, today. That is what Times Square looked like on August 14, 1945.


August 13, 1961
Berlin Wall, symbol of division between Western and Eastern Europe goes up.

Tory Historian has started reading Richard Pipes's Property and Freedom and found an interesting paragraph in its Introduction, where Professor Pipes explains his thoughts and presuppositions:

My starting hypothesis held that there is an intimate connection between public guarangees of owndership and individual liberty: that while property in some form is possible without liberty, the contrary is inconceivable.
As he explains further, testing this hypothesis in full proved to be impossible because of the many varieties of possession, ownership and property, not mention the difficulties of obtaining material and developing understanding of widely differing societies. Professor Pipes decided to sacrifice breadth for depth in order "to demonstrate through a few historical examples the relationship between economic and political power".

Tory Historian has not read far enough to be able to review the book or even comment on it but while that state of affairs is achieved, here is an article on the Mises Review site - the author approves of the book with some reservations. Can't say fairer than that.

St Swithun’s day if thou dost rain
For forty days it will remain
St Swithun’s day if thou be fair
For forty days ’twill rain no more

And the day is today, July 15. In Tory Historian's part of the world the sun is shining so the prediction is good, though, apparently, the weather is not too good in Scotland.

This is rather a charming and informative piece for young children on the subject that even explains how the legend came about.
A legend says that as the Bishop [St Swithun, Saxon Bishop of Winchester] lay on his deathbed, he asked to be buried out of doors, where he would be trodden on and rained on. For nine years, his wishes were followed, but then, the monks of Winchester attempted to remove his remains to a splendid shrine inside the cathedral on 15 July 971. According to legend there was a heavy rain storm either during the ceremony or on its anniversary.
Served those monks right, says Tory Historian.

Tory Historian is always keen on news stories that have an important historical content (and not just the usual complaint of politicians never change). Here is a fascinating story from the Guardian.

Almost six centuries after most of them converted to Christianity, a rabbinical court has declared that descendants of a "lost tribe" from the Spanish island of Mallorca can once more be considered Jews.

A decision by the ultra-orthodox rabbi Nissim Karelitz recognises that the Chuetas of Mallorca, who were persecuted by the Spanish Inquisition and remained a distinct group within Mallorcan society until the 1970s, had the right to call themselves Jews.
It seems that some of the Chuetas continued to be observant Jews at great personal risk to themselves. But the real reason why they have been recognized appears to be genetic - they mostly married within their community throughout all these centuries.

Today (just in time) is the 200th anniversary of the birth of one of those men, without whom this country would definitely look completely different. Sir George Gilbert Scott is the architect who created our vision of Victorianism, whether his designs were of public buildings, domestic buildings or poorhouses. One wonders what he would make of this "elegant brasserie and bar" in the new St Pancras Hotel.


The picture above is one of Scott's iconic designs without which London is unthinkable.

Tory Historian cannot help remembering what Lord Macaulay (a Whig or a Liberal, depending on one's point of view) said in his essay on Moore's Life of Byron.‎

We know no spectacle so ridiculous as the British public in one of its periodical fits of morality.
Its relevance to the present day is all too obvious.

Fifty years ago today came the death of one of the most important people in twentieth century American history and, in particular, in the development of American conservative thought: Whittaker Chambers.


This is a fascinating piece by David Chambers, Whittaker's grandson, about ghosts and memories and the world since the great man's death. While looking for other material, Tory Historian (a great admirer of Whittaker Chambers, one of the few people who really understood Communism) came across this posting on Flopping Aces about Chambers's Witness. There are, the blogger thinks, many lessons to be learnt for Americans now. Tory Historian cannot argue except to add that there are many lessons to be learnt for all of us in the West.

Tory Historian was delighted to read in History Today that the Samuel Johnson Prize (named after a truly great Tory) was awarded this year to Frank Dikötter’s Mao's Great Famine, a book TH has not yet read right through, so devastating it is. There is also the new biography of Bismarck, short-listed for the prize, to read. Jonathan Steinberg's book is described as "a genuine game-changer whose influence will be enormous and sustained".


Together with the author of the blog on the subject Tory Historian is stunned by the comment reportedly made by the biographer Brenda Maddox, who was on the jury, about the Mao book.
I was puzzled by the comments of one of the judges, though, the biographer Brenda Maddox, who is reported to have said: ‘Why didn’t I know about this? We feel we know who the villains of the 20th century are – Stalin and Hitler [I could add a few more to that]. But here, fully 50 years after the event, is something we did not know about. It’s testament to the power of non-fiction that it can rock you back on your heels.’ Well, she’s right on the last point, but her comments only serve to reinforce my view that the literati should get out more. Has Maddox not read, or even read a review of Mao: The Unknown Story by Jung Chang and Jon Halliday, for example? Or does her knowledge of Maoism derive from the films of Jean-Luc Godard and the writing of Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir? Dikötter gives us much valuable and fascinating new detail, but he does not alter the thrust of what has been known for some time now about the nature of Mao’s appalling regime.
There is none so blind as those who do not want to see.

Tory Historian finally went to Grosvenor Square and took this picture of the new statue of President Reagan which has now joined statues of Presidents Eisenhower and Roosevelt (that's Franklin, not Teddy) and the memorial to the Eagle Squadron.

Tory Historian finally managed to catch up with London historians or historians of London at the monthly meeting organized by .... yes, London Historians at Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese. It was, indeed, very good to meet the author of Caroline's Miscellany, one of the people who runs The Londonist and the musician and singer Andrew Maginley, whose knowledge of Renaissance and Baroque music seems unbounded.

The death of Otto von Habsburg, the oldest son of the last Emperor of Austria, Apostolic King of Hungary and King of Croatia, Charles, was announced today. He was 98 so there is no tragedy involved and has led a good life - fought both Nazism and Communism. A true European unlike some other people who claim the title.

Tory Historian must admit to chickening out of attending the unveiling ceremony this morning, though invited. The excuse: far too many people, far too much security and unlikely to be able to see anything, not even Condoleezza Rice. However, a visit to Grosvenor Square is due soon and an own photograph will be posted. In the meantime, here are two stories with pictures: Fox News and the Independent.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security. — Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.


The flag that flew at D-day.

Tory Historian has many pleasant and not so pleasant memories of the great Brotherton Library of the University of Leeds, which celebrates its 75th anniversary this year. The latest Alumni magazine does, indeed, have an article on the subject complete with a time line but neither appears to be on the website.


Suffice it to say that the library grew out of a private collection of books, formed by Sir Edward Allen Brotherton, later Lord Brotherton of Wakefield and could not have existed without his munificent gift. Thereafter, many other private collections were added. One example is the extensive Russian archive; then there is the Cookery collection; but, it seems, no detective story collection. How sad.

The main reading room was based on the British Museum Reading Room, which, alas, is no longer used for anything to do with books. But the Brotherton one is still there. Perhaps, Tory Historian will be welcomed back there one day. Hmm. A thought to be considered.


June 22, 1941 - Germany invades the Soviet Union, disregarding the infamous Nazi-Soviet Pact of 1939. Of course, it is important to recall that what was actually being invaded in those first days was eastern Poland that had been the USSR's portion of the deal.

Tory Historian, being the offspring of a lexicographer, finds dictionaries almost as exciting as maps. (see previous postings passim) Therefore, the news that the grand project of creating a dictionary of the Akkadian language, last spoken in Mesopotamia a couple of millennia ago, has been completed.

The dictionary was put together by studying texts written on clay and stone tablets uncovered in ancient Mesopotamia, which sat between the Tigris and the Euphrates rivers - the heartland of which was in modern-day Iraq, and also included parts of Syria and Turkey.

And there were rich pickings for them to pore over, with 2,500 years worth of texts ranging from scientific, medical and legal documents, to love letters, epic literature and messages to the gods.
It took ninety years but that is hardly a problem, considering the language and its dialects, Assyrian and Babylonian have been out of use.

Tom Fort reviews an interesting new book, When in Rome, the story of the Eternal City through the eyes of visitors who wrote about it. Few visitors can rival the historian Edward Gibbon, who spent 18 weeks in Rome and wrote later in his Memoirs:

It was at Rome, on the [fifteenth] of October[,] 1764, as I sat musing amidst the ruins of the Capitol, while the bare[-]footed fryars were singing [V]espers in the temple of Jupiter, that the idea of writing the decline and fall of the [C]ity first started to my mind.
Though there is some doubt as to the precise date, the very idea of conceiving such an undertaking while sitting in the ruins of the Capitol is astonishing.

There is, Tory Historian can assert, something extraordinarily exhilearating about the moment one can say for the first time: I am walking in the Forum Romanum.

To descend from the sublime though not to the ridiculous, one of Tory Historian's favourites among the Ngaio Marsh novels is also called When in Rome.



Tory Historian managed to miss the Duke of Edinburgh's 90th birthday but can do no better than to link to an article by that excellent journalist, Ruth Dudley Edwards. It is mostly about the difference between the Duchess of Cambridge, a seemingly sensible, balanced individual on the one hand and the Princess of Wales (Princess Di, as she is known to the media) and the Duchess of York (Fergy, as she is known to the media). Both of these, as the article points out, were "vulnerable, ill-educated and rather dim young women" with Diana possessing more than her fair share of manipulativeness.


There is, however, a very telling paragraph about the Duke of Edinburgh, who has had to put up with media attacks throughout most of his life and has managed to ignore them or, at least, not to let them affect his life and his work.
So affected was Oprah by Sarah's despair at having appeared on television drunkenly offering access to ex-husband Prince Andrew for vast sums of money and subsequently at her exclusion from the royal wedding, that she decided to help her rebuild her life. So Oprah has financed Finding Sarah, a reality-TV series in which experts ("We're here to help") advise Sarah on how to make a real beginning to her new journey. This requires that along with the watching millions she learns "why I kept self-sabotaging all these years". She's "moving on with strength and positivity". Sarah speaks fluent American gobbledygook.

One can imagine the gritted teeth at Buckingham Palace, where the Duke of Edinburgh has celebrated his 90th birthday by holding a charity reception and chairing a conference of military colonels. While he's been reducing his more demanding commitments on the grounds that "it's better to get out before you reach the sell-by date", he works on. And as his erstwhile daughter-in-law shares newly remembered childhood hurts, Prince Philip remains tight-lipped about what it was like to grow up rootless and virtually parentless and to have to abandon the promising naval career he adored in order to be a consort. His generation believes in duty and doesn't whinge, which is why he and the Queen found the behaviour of soul-barers Sarah and Princess Diana bewildering.
This blog wishes the Duke Edinburgh a very happy, if somewhat belated, birthday and hopes for many more.


June 6, 1944

History Today has a new corner on it site, dedicated to various historical exhibitions. Tory Historian is making lists of those that must be seen as soon as possible.

Yesterday was the anniversary of both Charles II's birth and, more importantly, his astonishingly peacerful entry into London in 1660 at the start of his own long and rather controversial reign. Well, it has attracted a great deal of controversy then and since.

Through London Historians Tory Historian can link to an excellent article on the subject by Tom Sykes.

Francesco Giavarina [Venetian Ambassador to England] was not alone in waking up on the 30th May with a hangover and the creeping realisation that someone would have to pay for the party. On Tuesday 29 May 1660, his thirtieth birthday, Charles Stuart returned to London for the first time since he left as a boy at the start of his father’s long and bloody civil war. He rode into a city which a decade previously had looked on unblinking as Parliament severed his father’s head from his body and the nation from its monarchy. He had attempted to return before, but many plans and plots came to nothing. Even his invasion at the head of a Scottish army had failed. It had taken the death of Oliver Cromwell two years earlier, the crumbling of Parliamentary authority, and a distinct lack of options for his time to come.
And as every schoolchild used to know, he was determined never to go on his wanderings again, if it meand accepting a pension from the King of France.

Tory Historian maintains that most of the best writers and playwrights are conservative in their outlook. So the news that David Mamet the best present-day American playwright has moved from left to right did not come as a surprise - the man is talented, after all - but was very good to hear anyway.

This review of The Secret Knowledge: On the Dismantling of American Culture points out the obvious:

With all the talk of Hollywood liberalism — the endless leftist blather from Sean Penn and Tim Robbins, the cozying up to Castro and Chavez by Oliver Stone and Danny Glover, the jejune Iranian peace-making by Annette Bening and Alfre Woodard, etc., etc — it’s fascinating that the two leading playwrights in the English language (the smart guys) — Tom Stoppard and David Mamet — identify as conservative/libertarians.
And why not? After all, Shakespeare was deeply conservative in his outlook and much afraid of political change for the sake of it.

It is a curious feature of this blog that the most likely postings that other blogs might link to are those about detective stories. One posting about the clerical mysteries of D. M. Greenwood has elicited at least two links from widely differing blogs. One from the very fine Clerical Detectives and another from the slightly more dulalee Mystery Mile, whose author a soi-disant atheist who is fascinated by theology, socialist and anarchist (which two are incompatible) shows some lack of understanding of conservative thinking. Still, his own writing is interesting and a link is a link is a link.

It would be good to think that people have also linked to the posting about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and his creations but, so far, no evidence of that has surfaced. We return to that subject after the sad news of the death of Edward Hardwicke, one of the best Dr Watsons to the best Holmes, played by Jeremy Brett.

One of the oddest things about Watson is how misunderstood he is by so many people. This obituary in the Telegraph, for instance, describes him as "the bumbling foil" to Holmes. As a number of comments point out, this is far from the truth. (A much better obituary in the Guardian.)

The Watson of the stories is steady, decent, intelligent though not a genius, courageous, a successful doctor, a man anyone would want to have around and one whom Holmes appreciates though when in a bad mood he does make derogatory comments. Holmes's appreciation of his friend and colleague is not the affectionate sarcasm of Poirot towards his genuinely stupid friend, Captain Arthur Hastings.

Where on earth did the myth of the stupid, bumbling Watson come from? Partly, one suspects, it is the influence of Agatha Christie's Hastings; partly it is the fault of Nigel Bruce in those execrable films with Basil Rathbone (such as The Hound of the Baskervilles).

All that began to change with Nigel Stock, in TH's opinion the best Watson, played to both Douglas Wilmer and Peter Cushing (an excellent Holmes). Jeremy Brett had two Watsons, David Burke and Edward Hardwicke who restored the original character of the sturdy, steady, perfectly presentable Watson. The most interesting interpretation was Michael Williams's on radio with Clive Merrison. Tory Historian possesses tapes of several episodes and enjoys listening to them. There seems to have been a clear decision made by the producers to make Watson's role bigger and more important - in a number of episodes he is an almost equal partner. A long way from Nigel Bruce's genuinely bumbling idiot but not too far from Edward Hardwicke's interpretation.

Tory Historian seems to have overcome problems with Blogger but considers modern technology to be somewhat less than it is cracked up to be. In the meantime, History Today's June issue has come out and it has an excellent "contrarian" article by Tim Stanley on the subject of apologies for historic events and actions.

Not a good idea, opines Mr Stanley, as it over-simplifies historic events (dumbs history down, would be TH's comment) and he proves it by giving a brief account of the different aspects of the Mau-Mau rebellion and the British suppression of it.

Blogger seems to be playing up in different ways at the moment, which makes it impossible for Tory Historian to post. We all hope the problems will be solved.

Tory Historian had long intended to read Max Pemberton's Jewel Mysteries I Have Known, as it contained the splendid Ripening Rubies, a tale first disinterred by Sir Hugh Greene in The Rivals of Sherlock Holmes. As this blog describes, the collection, the TV plays made from the stories and the particular tale of dastardly deeds in upper class London are a joy. TH did not manage to purchase the volume referred to but borrowed it from London Library. It does, indeed, give tactile pleasure to anyone who reads it. The illustrations are delightful.


As ever, TH decided to find out more about the author and came face to face with another terrifyingly busy and successful man of letters, journalist and editor. Indeed, he was even knighted for his various achievements. There are several portraits in the National Portrait Gallery - a sure sign of achievement. The cartoon above is the most attractive.

Tory Historian has chosen a sober and accurate front page rather than one of the somewhat over-the-top ones. After all, no matter what some newspapers said, it was not over, not till the boys (and the girls) came home from the Pacific

Tory Historian was reminded today by Radio 3 (one can still listen to that from time to time) that today is the anniversary of the very first performance of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony.

The Ninth Symphony was premiered on May 7, 1824 in the Kärntnertortheater in Vienna, along with the Consecration of the House Overture and the first three parts of the Missa Solemnis. This was the composer's first on-stage appearance in 12 years; the hall was packed. The soprano and alto parts were interpreted by two famous young singers: Henriette Sontag and Caroline Unger.
Concert goers had more stamina in those days.

Accounts of the performance differ but they all seem to involve Beethoven's presence on the stage, though he could no longer conduct, having gone deaf, and the need to turn him round to see rather than hear the audience's reaction, though whether the great applause came after the Scherzo of the last movement or after the whole of the performance remains doubtful.

Which performance to choose? TH has decided to go with Herbert von Karajan:

It is always a pleasure to see a gorgeous building that could have been demolished but for the wise intervention of the great Sir John Betjeman renovated and re-opened. The former Midlands Hotel, now St Pancras Renaissance Hotel is a joy to behold. Tory Historian has spent a great deal of time watching its gradual emergence from what was more little more than rubble within a fine frame and will be visiting it very soon. In the meantime, here is Mark Easton's glowing account.

The ghost of Sir John Betjeman will be grinning from ear to ear tonight as it hovers among the guests at the grand opening of the St Pancras Renaissance Hotel in North London.

Not only does the event mark the climax of a project to rescue and resurrect a building the poet personally sought to protect from the bulldozer barbarians of the sixties, it also glorifies an extraordinary monument to the skills of the ordinary English working man.
And what could be greater praise?

Tory Historian has been reading three different books at different rates. Firstly a collection of Victorian detective stories, edited by Michael Cox, consisting of some very well known works, some not so well known and some quite obscure, which is always a joy to find. Even the least well known and the weakest of the writers (not always the same thing) display an ability to manipulate style that is seen only among the best nowadays. And, as ever, it is astonishing how many of the stories are not about murder but fraud or robbery, all too often of jewels but sometimes of money, which comes in both paper and gold.


Then there is Philip Guedalla's collection of literary essays, A Gallery, found, like the previous book in one of the remaining second hand bookshops in Charing Cross Road. Guedalla, a politician (though not terribly successful), barrister, well thought-of historian and man of letters is someone whom it is hard to imagine these days. Possibly John Julius Norwich comes close though he is not a barrister or a politician.

Tory Historian possesses a slightly battered copy of If It Had Happened Otherwise, a book of counterfactuals, published in 1931, in which the best essay is undoubtedly by Mr Guedalla who envisages European history after a Moorish victory at Granada.

And finally, Monarchy Matters by the Director of the New Culture Forum, Peter Whittle. This one has only just been started so little can be reported apart from that it is enormously interesting. TH cannot help quoting a paragraph or two, found by random leafing through, on the Royal Family and the general thirst for celebrity:

Diana had always understood the need for visibility - the need to be seen to be doing what you were doing. Even though she died before the celebrity age took proper hold, it was obvious that she had a well-developed instinct for the headline or the arresting photograph. There can be nobody left in the country who does not know of the attention she paid to Aids sufferers or the victims of landmines. Her friendship with fashion and showbiz stars epitomized by the image of her comforting Elton John at the funeral of the fashion designer Gianni Versace, added to her lustre as a sort of international celebrity. In this kind of atmosphere, those who went about their duties without the aid of stardust simply could not compete. The hundreds of public engagements carried out by Princess Anne every year, and her decades of work for theSave the Children Fund, now go largely unremarked and uncovered by the media. Even the Prince's Truyst - which, since it was first established by Prince Charles, has gone on to become one of the most important and successful public endeavours of its kind ever to be initiated by a member of the royal family - has still not been accorded the recognition it is due.
Yet, whose work will survive longer?


This blog wishes Prince William and Kate Middleton, soon to be Princess William (not Princess Kate) every happiness in their difficult future. Below is a picture taken by TH in the Mall yesterday afternoon.

Tory Historian has maintained for some time that there is a good deal of similarity between present-day Americans and Victorian British though their ideas of international influence are somewhat different in that Americans dislike the idea of an empire.


One thing that does seem to be similar is how widespread religious ideas, as social and political underpinning, are in the United States now and were in Britain in the nineteenth century. This article in History Today says something very similar:
British secularism is a 20th-century innovation, produced by the psychological shocks of war and social change. The Victorians would be bemused by the secularism of muscular liberalism and scandalised by the vague ‘births, deaths and marriages’ Anglicanism of much of the present government. Yet they were capable of a surprising degree of multiculturalism. Albeit with much debate, Unitarianism and Islam were legalised in 1812 and Catholics were given the vote in 1829. Muscular liberalism is a project rooted in false historical consciousness that seeks to drive religion out of the public sphere. In contrast, Victorian society revelled in difference and debate. Its unifying principle was not the absence of belief but its permeation. Given the part that faith has played in shaping the British constitution and state – from the right of Parliament to dismiss a heretical monarch, to the abolition of slavery – it is ahistorical to try to proscribe or eliminate its role today.
Some interesting points in a short article.


Just made it, though it has gone in those parts of the world where it is remembered. But it is still worth recalling. Nothing annoys Tory Historian more than self-righteous comments about Britain "standing alone" when the country was supported by millions of Australians, New Zealanders as well as South Africans, Canadians, Indians and many many others from the Empire and Commonwealth. So let us honour the ANZACs for their courage in both world wars.

It would be wrong of Tory Historian to ignore Her Majesty the Queen's 85th birthday today. As ever she is working, handing out Maundy money at Westminster Abbey.


Here is another, much earlier picture of the Princess Elizabeth and the Princess Margaret broadcasting to the children of Britain and the Commonwealth from Windsor in 1940 at the height of the Blitz.

This comes from Andrew Roberts's magisterial biography of Lord Salisbury. In 1877 Salisbury, then Secretary of State for India became embroiled in the usual row between Viceroy and Secretary of State and as it was all too often the case, it was about Russian expansion in Central Asia and how Britain should respond. Lord Lytton, the Viceroy, was in favour of some action; Salisbury was considerably more cautious and less certain that Russia, despite the speed of her expansion, which he underestimated, was a real threat to India.

I think you listen too much to the soldiers. No lesson seems to be so deeply inculcated by the experience of life as that you should never trust experts. If you believe the doctors, nothing is wholesome: if you believe the theologians, nothing is innocent: if you believe the soldiers, nothing is safe. They all require to have their strong wine diluted by a very large admixture of insipid common sense.
Tory Historian has thought that common sense can be overestimated as it is frequently an excuse for lack of imagination and understanding but, in this case, one cannot help agreeing with the noble lord's robust debunking of narrow-minded experise.

Tory Historian has just finished the highly entertaining Shooting Leave by Sir John Ure, a collection of tales of derring-do, espionage and scientific exploration as well as lots of shooting of birds and animals in the Great Game. It is thoroughly to be recommended to anyone who is interested in that subject.


The last paragraph but one deserves to be quoted in full:
Nor had the fascination of Central Asia, and Afghanistan in particular, evaporated for the British. The early years of the twenty-first century found us fighting there again, bravely and at times frustratingly, as so often in the past. Newsreels, novels and films about Kabul and Afghans filled television screens, bookstalls and cinemas. The charm of the Afghans, so mistakenly relied on by 'Bokhara' Burnes and others, remains as sharply etched as ever, and is still perhaps best described by General John Nicholson (who had served there in the 1840s and was to be killed in the Indian Mutiny): 'the most experienced and astute of our political officers in Afghanistan were deceived by that winning and imposing frankness of manner which it has pleased Providence to give the Afghans, as it did to the first serpent'.
Many would agree with that.

On the secondary Conservative History Journal blog there is now a review of a book published by Biteback and edited by Francis Beckett, called The Prime Ministers Who Never Were. The verdict is so-so. Entertaining essays but counter-factual history, which has its uses, is not the same as total fantasy.

London Historians are organizing what is potentially the first of monthly meetings for those interested in a drink (or two) and a chat at the famous off-Fleet Street tavern, Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese. As a matter of fact, it is a very pleasant hostelry despite the irritating name. Tory Historian is not sure that Dr Johnson and Boswell actually idled away their hours - Boswell certainly thought that listening to the great sage was worth all the time in the world.


April 6, 18:30 in the downstairs bar.

As editor of the Conservative History Journal in all its versions and a tediously tireless promoter of the study of history in Britain, I like the look of this website. Set up by various academic organizations it attempts to bring together as many of the digital resources for the study of British history between 1500 and 1900 as possible. I have to admit I have not yet tried using it for research but shall do so very soon.



March 30, 1981. John Hinckley Jnr fires at President Ronald Reagan, wounding him and his press secretary James Brady, Washington police officer Thomas Delahanty, and Secret Service agent Timothy McCarthy severely. President Reagan survived thus breaking the famous Tecumseh Curse.


Tory Historian wishes Lord Tebbit, possibly the only active Conservative politician who can be called great, a happy 80th birthday.

Searching through second-hand detective stories in Charing Cross Road Tory Historian found a collection of Lillian de la Torre's stories about Dr Johnson, entitled The Detections of Dr. Sam: Johnson.


Tory Historian has, in the past, expressed reservations about some historical detective stories but the first two stories of Ms de la Torre's collection, The Tontine Curse and The Stroke of Thirteen deserve nothing but praise if only for the delightful pastiche of that likeable coxcomb, James Boswell's writings.

Tory Historian has always had a soft spot for John Julius Norwich, the extraordinarily prolific yet seemingly relaxed and charming historian of Venice and the Byzantine Empire as well as talented anthologizer. Here is a delightful interview with him on occasion of his new book, the history of the Popes. It is going on TH's list immediately.

Tory Historian has found two blogs that might be of interest to readers and they both seem to be authored by the same person except that both seem to have a number of other bloggers. In fact, one on Georgian London seems to be more of a magazine than a blog with the number of guests writing about their interests.


Lucy Inglis, expert on Georgian London and particularly interested in artisans and immigrants to London in that period, is also the blogger in residence at the Museum of London, a very fine place that Tory Historian has not visited for far too long. Nevertheless, the Museum's blog seems to have a number of authors who deal with different aspects of that institution and its work. Very interesting it is, too.

Tory Historian has been catching up with some important reading and found among the unread pile this article by Nigel Lawson (now Lord Lawson of Blaby), former Chancellor of the Exchequer and present-day campaigner against the intellectual terrorism of some climate scientists.

The title, borrowed from a certain well-known if over-hyped film, is Five Myths and a Menace. The five myths Lord Lawson demolishes are:

Myth number one is that economics is a science.

Myth number two: that policy-makers should be guided by the precautionary principle.

Myth number three is the notion, assiduously peddled by ministers in the present government, as it was by their predecessors, that policies to promote the replacement of carbon-based energy by substantially more expensive renewable energy, notably wind power, will bring great benefit to the British economy and in particular create millions of so-called "green jobs".

Myth number four, that Keynesian (or neo-Keynesian) stabilisation policy makes sense.

The last of my five myths, which is causing considerable angst at the present time — as indeed it did when I was Chancellor in the 1980s — and was one of the preoccupations of November's meeting of the G20 finance ministers in Korea.

This is the view that the very substantial current account imbalances that exist in the world are both unnatural and a threat to global economic health.
The article needs to be read in full to find out what Lord Lawson's elegant refutations are and what the menace is. All Tory Historian can say is that the menace will not come as a surprise to anyone who knows Lord Lawson's economic and political views.

It is not entirely clear to Tory Historian why International Women's Day, ignored in Britain since beginnings a century ago, should now be celebrated across the land. It is, however, satisfactory to know that March 8 is also the anniversary of Queen Anne's ascension to the throne after the death of her brother-in-law, William III, after a hunting accident. He was thrown from his horse who had stumbled into a mole's burrow. William's collar bone was broken and the complicating pneumonia carried him off.

The Jacobites now had another toast to drink: not just "the King over the water" but also "the gentleman in the black velvet waistcoat", that is the mole.

Curiously enough, the other William who had conquered England, though somewhat more bloodily, also died as a result of a fall off a horse.

Tory Historian finished The Diary of a Country Parson, the very much shortened version of Parson Woodforde's voluminous diary. The elegant little tome in The World's Classics series of Oxford University Press reminds one of the small eighteenth century volumes that readers carried in their coat pockets or reticules. It is such a pity that financial considerations prevent the publication of long books in several small volumes. It would be a good deal easier to read Andrew Roberts's magisterial biography of Lord Salisbury if it were in five or six small tomes, one of which would be possible to carry around wherever one went.


On the other hand, there are certain frustrations in reading such a very small portion of the diary. While the picture of an eighteenth century country parish, the nearest town, Norwich, with its shops and entertainments, the long coach journeys to London, Bath and the Woodforde family's homes in Somerset emerge most attractively, much has to be guessed at for it is not in the selection.

John Beresford has preferred to concentrate on the Norfolk years so little is known of the previous Oxford and Somerset ones, the latter being of great interest.

There is no help for it. Tory Historian will have to read, no doubt in many instalments, the full diary.

Tory Historian found this news of enormous interest. The diary of Abdul Karim, Queen Victoria's much loved munshi, was not destroyed despite Edward VII's almost paranoid desire to burn everything to do with his mother's relationship with Karim and with John Brown. It was kept by his family through good times and bad and has now been handed over to Shrabani Basu, author of Victoria and Abdul. The book, revised in the light of new information, will be very well worth reading.

Tory Historian is bemused. On the one hand, Professor Simon Schama, broadcaster, author of very popular history books and Professor of Art History and History at Columbia University, says that there should be no cuts in the state funding of arts subjects like history because if there are only rich people will be able to study history at university.


On the other hand, he does not think particularly highly of the way history is taught at most universities and, especially, at schools (something TH can certainly agree with) though it is not quite clear how Professor Schama knows what goes on in the average school in Britain.

So, all that funding has not helped? Maybe something else should be tried?

Then again, is Columbia University not a private university? That is certainly what it sounds like.

Tory Historian was quite excited by the prospect of a film about George VI, the Abdication Crisis and the beginning of the Second World War. All these events were within living memory (still) but, because of the lack of historical teaching in schools, are not as well known as they ought to be. A viewing was in order as soon as possible and a few subsequent discussions. Tory Historian has been somewhat discouraged both by the film and, especially, by the discussions. Sentimentality seems to overwhelm the need or desire to study history.


It is necessary to acknowledge that the film is good. It is not brilliant but it is good in a solid way: good script, good acting with many of the best known British thesps on parade, accurate in detailed knowledge of the period. Compared to most films that have been produced in the last ten years or so, it is very good, but that is a reflection on the state the film industry is in around the world.

The historic background, on the other hand, is very poor. Whoever did the research should have their salaries docked. Or be told to wash dishes in future, if they can manage it. This is not about details of when exactly the Duke of York or George VI made the first truly successful speech. This is, after all, a film not a biography and certain dramatic tension is required. It is perfectly reasonable to build the story towards the speech at the outbreak of war when the fairy tale comes to fruition: the younger son (in this case a prince but that is irrelevant) overcomes the many handicaps and difficulties, gains the throne and the love of his people as he already has the love of several princesses who are his wife and two daughters.

What is objectionable is the complete disregard for historical accuracy in other matters. It is not possible to imagine that George V (or, for that matter, anyone else) said in 1935 (readers, please mark the date) that whoever inherited the throne from him would be facing Hitler threatening half Europe and Stalin the other half. Nobody thought that about Hitler and nobody paid that much attention to Stalin except on domestic matters.

Baldwin did not resign in 1937 because he thought "Winston was right". Very few people thought that in 1937, before Anschluss and invasion of Sudetenland; certainly not Baldwin who supported Chamberlain in 1938.

All this amounts to a promotion of Churchill as the secondary hero of the story, presumably for the American market. It culminates in the complete reversal of Churchill's role in the Abdication Crisis. The film shows him broadly supportive of the Yorks. In reality he supported Edward beyond any realistic expectation, making a speech in the Commons as late as December 1936 in his favour. He was humiliatingly shouted down.

There is, in addition, a problem with Timothy Spall who plays Churchill or rather a pantomime Churchill as one reviewer said. Mr Spall is the one exception in the film - among all the other superlative performances his is dreadful.

Does any of this matter? Tory Historian has been assured by various people that it does not as the film in itself is a good thing and will probably encourage others to go away and find out more about the Abdication Crisis, George VI and other related matters. Sad to say, this does not seem to be true. There is no evidence that the film is driving interest in the actual events of that period. In fact, all references to historic facts or inaccuracies are pooh-poohed with a somewhat gooey sentimental sigh. It is just so lovely, that film and gives one such lovely warm feelings. Who needs to learn history? Tory Historian remains very sad and disappointed.


Tory Historian is most apologetic about the prolonged silence and promises a return to posting. Incidentally, TH is thinking of changing the format of this blog and turning it into more of an on-line magazine that would cover the same or similar subjects but with more outside contribution and more variation in length and shape of articles. Any suggestions from people of greater technological knowledge are very welcome.

According to Andrew Roberts, our leading conservative historian, the 3rd Marquess of Salisbury did not think so. In his magisterial biography of the great man he says after writing of the Cecil family's holiday home in France:

Salisbury was never a believer in tourism per se, perversely thinking that 'the more the faciliteis of travelling bring the two nations into contact the less goodwill is likely to be generated'. Other than the occasional visit to a Swiss spa town for his health, and one diplomatic mission to Constantinople, he never travelled beyond France, Germany and Italy in the last fifty years of his life.
This raises a few questions. Firstly, is that opinion really perverse? We generally assume that if people go from their own to other countries a lot then there will be more friendly feeling between all these countries and peoples. Is that really so? Do we or anybody else feel particularly well-disposed towards hordes of tourists? Do people who endlessly travel round, boasting of the number of places they have been to, know anything of those places or leave happy memories behind them whatever they may carry away?

Secondly, one can't help comparing Salisbury's attitude to the modern insistence that political leaders should always be visiting different countries for vaguely defined puposes. As it happens the young Lord Robert Gascoyne-Cecil had travelled to various parts of the world, such as Australia and did not carry away particularly good impressions. Clearly, he did not consider that it was in any way necessary for the Secretary for India, the Foreign Secretary or the Prime Minister to visit many other countries though Britain at the time was undoubtedly a world power or, even the world power. Did this attitude and behaviour in any way prevent him from carrying out his tasks well? Can we honestly say that his much-travelled successors are better at their jobs than he was?

Or so thought the 3rd Marquess of Salisbury when still an MP under the courtesy title of Viscount Cranborne.


Tory Historian has been reading Andrew Roberts's magisterial biography of Salisbury and cannot recommend it highly enough. Roberts's step by step account of the ferocious debates around the 1867 Representation of the People Act (a.k.a. the Second Reform Bill) makes many matters clear. Cranborne was suspicious of the measure from the very beginning but was particularly incensed, to the point of resigning from the Cabinet, by the underhand methods whereby Derby and Disraeli pushed through a measure that was more radical than the one Gladstone had proposed the previous year, which Disraeli had opposed allegedly out of principle.

Not only was the Tory Bill more radical than the Liberal one had been but during its passage through the Commons it had shed all the supposed safeguards, ending up with a measure that simply enfranchised a great proportion of the urban working class men. Cranborne was against that for various reasons: ideological as he did not approve of a wide franchise and pragmatic as he thought that this would be a disaster for the Conservative Party in electoral terms (he turned out to be wrong on that). But, most of all, he was incensed by the political legerdemain practised by the leaders of his own party.

Mr Roberts describes Cranborne's speech during the Third Reading of the Bill on July 15, 1867 as "possibly the greatest oration in a career full of powerful parliamentary speeches". It was an open attack on Disraeli though he was not named in the speech. Mr Roberts considers the peroration to be worthy of being quoted in full and Tory Historian agrees though, this being a blog not a very long book, "in full" has to be limited to one rather than two paragraphs:

I entreat honourable Gentlemen opposite not to believe that my feelings on this subject are dictated simply by my hostility on this particular measure, though I object to it most strongly, as the House is aware. But, even if I took a contrary view - if I deemed it to be most advantageous, I still should deeply regret that the position of the Executive should have been so degraded as it has been in the present session: I should deeply regret to find the House of Commons has applauded a policy of legerdemain; and I should, above all things, regret that this great gift to the people - if gift you think it - should have been purchased at the cost of a political betrayal which has no parallel in our Parliamentary annals, which strikes at the root of all that mutual confidence which is the very soul of our party Government, and on which only the strength and freedom of our representative institutions can be sustained.
TH's one objection to those splendid sentiments is that however reprehensible may have been Disraeli's behaviour, it was hardly unparalleled but one must allow for political hyperbole.

Tory Historian has been delving into the debates within the Conservative Party that took place in the early years of the twentieth century. There is a much to say on the subject but, at present, here is another quotation from National Revival by Arthur Boutwood, though published anonymously as Mr Boutwood was a low-ranking civil servant and was not allowed to express political opinions.

Attachment to certain relatively permanent elements in the existing order of thins, an inclination to make the new organically continuous with the old, a consciousness which seems to itself national rather than sectional, - these may fairly be said to be characteristic of Conservatism. Stability that does not prevent change, reform by amendment rather than by supersession, the nation rather than the class or group, - these seem to be the charateristically Conservative preferences.
It has been said, particularly by no less a person than E.H.H.Green, that Mr Boutwood's ideas are often incoherent and contradictory. Tory Historian thinks that this paragraph is one of the better examples of Mr Boutwood's writing.

Tory Historian has been reading the small World's Classics edition of James Woodforde's diary, entitled Diary of a Country Parson and fell to wondering whether any research has been done about the country parson and his family. The heavily edited tiny book is fascinating and frustrating in about equal measures.


Well, Mr Google is everyone's friend, even Tory Historian's. There is, thankfully, a Parson Woodforde Society, which appears to be flourishing and has produced a number of works about the man himself as well as publishing his complete diary in 17 volumes. How can one find time to read them all?

This comes from the Preface to David Gilmour's excellent biography of Curzon:

Curzon's reputation thus survived the first two verdicts of history. In the early 1930s, however, Lord Beaverbrook launched an assault on it that lasted for nearly 30 years and ensured its virtual destruction. In a series of racy and tendentious books the newspaper tycoon directed a crescendo of abuse culminating in the allegation that his victim had been 'inconsistent, unreliable, untruthful and treacherous'. His principal charges were that Curzon had 'changed sides on almost every issue during his long career' and that he had given Asquith 'an absolute pledge' that he would not serve under Lloyd George in 1916.

Beaverbrook's judgements were accepted with a strange lack of inquiry by some distinguished historians, who repeated his statements and in some cases developed them so that it soon became almost obligatory to describe Curzon as a 'turncoat' or 'deserter' always joining the winning side. Pre-eminent among them was A.J.P.Taylor, who portrayed him as 'one of naure's rats', a weak and irresolute figure who in 1922 'deserted Lloyd George as successfully as he had deserted Asquith'. Another highly respected scholar, A.M.Gollin, took up the theme of Curzon's 'political somersaults', claiming that before the First World War 'he often advocated certain definite policies, only to change his mind at the last moment and reverse his course'.
These are particularly odd charges as in his own lifetime Curzon was often attacked for being too inflexible.

It was not till the late 1960s when Kenneth Rose published his biography of the late Viceroy and Foreign Secretary and David Dilks his two volumes on Curzon in India that there was even a partial rehabilitation. We then went through a period of too many historians refusing to see anything good in an unashamed imperialist, despite his interesting and sensitive descriptions of Persia and Central Asia and his well known determination to preserve Indian culture.

Why exactly would any reputable historian follow the lead of a somewhat disreputable newspaper magnate in historical matters?

Tory Historian's absence has been occasioned in part by interested reading about the debates in the Conservative Party in the early twentieth century (of which more in future postings). The return was going to be a happy one, perhaps with a note about the fact that today is the great Benjamin Franklin's 305th birthday.


Instead, TH is furious. How can one not be when one of the main Sunday newspapers publishes a sycophantic interview with Eric Hobsbawm, the historian who has been a member of the CPGB all his life, who still regrets the collapse of the Evil Empire a.k.a. the Soviet Union and who, undoubtedly, tailored his historical writings according to his ideology. Do these people have no shame?

Arthur Boutwood's book naturally led Tory Historian to the work of E. H. H. Green, the historian of the Conservative Party and its ideas, who died tragically young in 2006. His Ideologies of Conservatism denies that the Conservative Party is a party with no ideology. Its beginning, much to Tory Historian's delight, is an account of the fierce ideological battles waged within the party when it appeared to be in crisis in the early years of the twentieth century.

When was this written?

There were, of course, Conservative policies, but there was no productive Conservative thought, certainly no systematized Conservative thought. The changes which created our modern political world were governed by conceptions which were not Conservative, and were brought about by forces which owed none of their strength to Conservative ideals.
The answer is 1913 in a book called National Revival - A Re-statement of Tory Principles by Arthur Boutwood, apparently anonymously though it was hardly a profound secret.

Tory Historian is aware that "awesome" has become one of the most fashionable slang words meaning, roughly speaking, "pretty good". This is rather a pity as the word should be used only when describing people like Captain Frederick Gustavus Burnaby (1842 - 1885), modestly described by Wikipedia as a "traveller and soldier". And so he was, as well as a superb writer of two classics of travel literature: A Ride to Khiva and On Horseback Through Asia Minor.


His biography (which included unsuccessfully contesting a seat in Birmingham in the Tory-Democrat interest) is one that could not be invented. Only reality can produce so much activity in one person, who also found time to sit for a wonderful portrait by Tissot that is in the National Portrait Gallery. Who could possibly believe that the languid young man stretched out in that portrait could have achieved all that he had? Here is a little more about his literary work.

Thanks to one of Colonel Burnaby's admirers who is also a reader of this blog, Tory Historian has found out about Mrs Burnaby (1860 - 1934) who became later Mrs John Frederick Main and Mrs Aubrey Le Blond. She seems to have been as awesome (in the true sense of the word) as her first husband, becoming a leading mountain climber and the first President of the Ladies Alpine Club. She wrote about her mountain climbing under her different married names and made a number of films of snow sports in the Alps. She is generally considered to be the first woman film-maker.
Le Blond evidently did not think her filmmaking of any great significance as she fails to mention it in her autobiography, perhaps because her life encompassed so many other activities: as well as writing and photographing, she lectured, travelled widely, worked in the Service de Santé Militaire in the First World War, and was made a Chevalier de la Légion d’Honneur in 1933.
Tory Historian can only regret that the lady did not turn her attention to British politics. She would undoubtedly have been a Tory like her first husband.

Tory Historian rarely makes predictions (better not say never but hardly ever will do). One reason is the silliness of predictions found in many books. Books on politics, particularly those that deal with slightly volatile regions are notorious - the vagaries of publishing are such that by the time a book comes out everything would have succumbed to events.


Even more entertaining is reading confident predictions made by critics of yore. Take H. Douglas Thomson's Masters of Mystery, which TH finished on New Year's Eve (with some sliding into 2011). There are several predictions in it, some more serious than others, which are very funny. Among them there is the highly contentious but clearly tongue-in-cheek assertion that the detective story cannot develop as it has already reached perfection. As Mr Thomson himself seems less than impressed with a number of the Golden Age classics, this is clearly a jocular farewell to the reader.

Of more seriousness is his contention that Miss Marple, Agatha Christie's greatest creation, has no real future as a detective. Ha! Even more peculiar is his assertion that with the growth of historical teaching and scientific exploration of evidence historical fiction has had its day. It is possible, that the lack of historical teaching has reversed that trend but TH is very doubtful that it actually happened. Not only has historical fiction been flourishing, it has spread into what might be called literature (with Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall about Thomas Cromwell winning all sorts of literary prizes) and into detective fiction as well with very many detective story writers deciding (often unwisely as has been pointed out on this blog) to set their tales in past times.

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