Category Archives: Culture

Englishness in Films – Master and Commander

Released 2003  

Director Peter Weir

Main cast

Captain Jack Aubrey …. Russell Crowe

Dr. Stephen Maturin …. Paul Bettany

First Lt. Thomas Pullings …. James D’Arcy

Second Lt. William Mowett …. Edward Woodall

Midshipman Lord William Blakeney …. Max Pirkis

Barrett Bonden, Captain’s Coxswain…. Billy Boyd

This is a most unusual form of “chase” film.   Adapted from the  Patrick O’Brien novel of the same title,  it is  set  in 1805. (O’Brien’s book  has  the  privateer as American,  but in the post-liberty world of 911 America Hollywood and American bad guys do not go together.)   A  Royal Navy frigate The Surprise with orders to “burn, sink, or take her a prize” is in pursuit of  a French  privateer Acheron  which has been preying on British  shipping on  the  Spanish  Main (the mainland of the American continent enclosing the Caribbean Sea and the Gulf of Mexico). The Acheron is eventually captured after a chase which includes going round the Horn.

As  a dramatic vehicle,  a  ship  has the same advantages  as the  country-house,   boarding  school,  POW  camp  or  small village: it is a self-contained world with sufficient numbers of  people to be interesting but not too many  to   overwhelm the action or the development of character.  And so it proves here.   

Although it is an action film,  it is about as far from being the mindless if enjoyable mayhem of a Terminator film as  can be  imagined.  The  fight  scenes,  broadsides  and  boarding parties  included,  take perhaps thirty minutes out  of  more than  two  hours.    This  allows  plenty  of  time  for  the development of character,  most notably between  the captain, Jack Aubrey,  and his ship’s surgeon and naturalist,  Stephen  Maturin.  But  there is also space  for  other  subordinate stories such as the friendship between two midshipman,  which        has elements of Tom Brown and Scud East.  

Russell  Crowe as  Aubrey and Paul Bettany   as Maturin,  are both  first  rate.   Crowe does what  he  did  in  Gladiator,  inhabit a role which allows his ability to portray a man with both  natural authority and  humanity full reign,  this  time with bonus of being the nearest thing to an absolute  monarch known to English society,   captain of  a Royal Naval ship at the  beginning of the 19th century.   (His RP English  accent is  almost  perfect – the odd  vowel  sound  goes awry.) 

As  for Bettany,  he showed what he suggested in A  beautiful mind,  that rarest of qualities in an actor: the portrayal of intellect.  Probably only Ralph Fiennes amongst  present  day actors  could  do it as well and he with more  coldness  than Bettany, who made his character here a thoroughly sympathetic one.  There is an exquisite scene when Maturin has to operate on himself to remove a bullet  beneath his ribs.    He  asked          Crowe  whether he is up to assisting him with a steady  hand.  “My  dear doctor,  “  replies Crowe,  “I have spent  my  life around  blood and wounds.”  A few minutes into the  operation Crowe looks distinctly queasy and Bettany between grimaces of  pain  allows himself a triumphant smile.   Almost  worth  the price of entrance in itself.

The supporting cast are uniformly good,  especially the  very young midshipmen – their age historically correct: Nelson was a captain by the age of 20 – one of whom has an arm amputated early  in the film – no anaesthetic mind –  and then  becomes Bettany’s protege as a naturalist.

The  film  is visually beautiful and  exciting.  With  ninety percent at least of the film set on the Surprise at sea,  the ocean  is seen in all its  states from doldrum calm  to  Cape Horn belligerent.    The small part of the story which is  on  land takes place in  the Galapagos where Maturin indulges his naturalist’s passion.  Those scenes have a cold,  uncluttered beauty about them.

Above all it is also an intensely  English film.    The cast, even where they are technically other than English,  such  as Maturin   (supposedly  an  Irishman),  are  all   played   as Englishmen  and  the entire crew – with the  exception  of  a nervous midshipman who tops himself –  all behave well. It is simply the best advert for Englishness seen on the screen for many a long year.

There  is  a small amount of “England expects”  dialogue  but really  very  little  considering the context  of  the  film. Instead, the  “advert”  for England consists  simply  of Englishmen behaving well.

The English Year Zero

The French Revolution  attempted to sweep  away  many of the everyday cultural anchors that attach a people to a way of life: the currency, the calendar and the systems  of weights and measures.  The new  calendar did not last but the currency and metric system did. The French lost forever an important part of their shared experience.   It was perhaps the first attempt at a Year Zero obliteration of the past not by an invader but by the elite of a people.

Britain has never experienced a cultural  upheaval as starkly dramatic as the French Revolution,  but  revolution can come in subtler ways.  In the past forty years she has seen her counties butchered; lost her historic currency and suffered  a creeping undermining of her traditional  weights and measures.  Like the French revolutionary experience, this damage  been inflicted from within.

Edward Heath’s  re-drawing of  county boundaries through the Local Government Act  1972 (active from 1974) saw Cumberland and Westmoreland lost as they were merged into Cumbria; Herefordshire, Worcestershire and England’s smallest country, Rutland,  obliterated; Lancashire,  Yorkshire, Lincolnshire, Somerset, Gloucester , Northumberland, Durham and  Warwickshire shorn of much of their historic territory and population  through the creation of the metropolitan “counties”  of Greater Manchester, Merseyside, South Yorkshire, Tyne and Wear, West Midlands and West Yorkshire and the meaningless  new counties of Avon, Cleveland, Cumbria, Hereford and Worcester, and Humberside created. 

Of all the things which give a human being a sense  of belonging and permanence it is the land in which they live.  People form  an emotional attachment to  things. They buy products because of their branding. They give names to their cars.   Sailors have an intense relationship with their ships.   How much more potent is the relationship with the place where they live. Unsurprisingly, human attachment to land is the most emotional attachment  after family. Territory is what men have fought for more than anything else because a secure place to live is the source of all security.    Humans need continuity, not incessant and dramatic change.

Few if any things are more disorienting than the re-naming of the place where you live. It seems to strike at reality. That is why when politicians try to make such changes, the old names commonly  live on for generations, sometimes centuries; why Petrograd became St Petersburg again so readily after the Soviet Union fell.   

Why did Heath do it? Ostensibly on the grounds of administrative convenience. He might as well have suggested the Church of England would have been better served by  demolishing its great mediaeval cathedrals and building new modernist ones.  It was the act of a man who at best lived beyond the touch of history and at worst was a willing destroyer of  English culture in his desire to translate Britain into a province of a United States of Europe.

Decimalisation was primarily promoted on the tawdry, false and utterly soulless  grounds that it would substantially  increase business efficiency, a claim as improbable as Nye Bevan’s belief that the cost of the NHS would soon drop as the population’s health improved due to better healthcare . Even if the claim of business efficiency  had been true, it would have been  a criminally trivial reason for  ditching a currency with a 1,300 year history dating back to the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms of the 7th century with their silver  peningas (pennies).     It removed  from circulation those reminders of the past, the many old coins in circulation. Before decimalisation every handful of change reminded one of England’s history.  You looked at coins and saw the heads of  different monarchs,  ran you hands over the coins and felt the centuries which they represented.  It was common to find coins dating to Victoria’s reign and there were a fair number older than that. Occasionally something really old would appear (the oldest coin I ever received in change dated from the reign of Charles II).   It was a form of informal education. With decimal coinage all this was  swept away if not  exactly at a stroke – florins, shillings and sixpences limped on for a few years –  but most of the history was  lost immediately because pennies and halfpennies became obsolete overnight.

Metrication replaces measures which grew organically over the centuries from the natural usage of  the people – a hand was the breadth of a hand, a foot the length of a foot, a yard is the distance of a man’s arm – with an alien and contrived system.  Imperial measurements are man-related. Metric measurements are simply arbitrary measures derived from such things as the diameter of the earth. They are the imposition of a foreign and arbitrary system on the English. No one forced the English to use imperial measurements.  They  grew out of Man’s natural behaviour.  It is natural to use an arm, hand or foot to act as a measure. Even today we  use our feet  place close one after another or paces to measure a distance.     The yard arose from need and inclination: the metre was an artificial construct.  Imperial and metric are a pair akin to English and Esperanto.

Choosing units which grew naturally out of men’s needs means that they are the units with which people are most comfortable.  For many everyday purposes metric units tend to either be too large or too small because they have been based not on experience but on an intellectual construct of the Age of Reason.  A pound feels naturally right, a kilo too heavy.   A centimetre is too small for many measurements and a metre too large.  Imperial measurements offers an intermediate measurement the  foot.  So it is with other measures.  We have the pint, quart and gallon; metric gives us merely the millilitre and the litre. Of course, Imperial standard measurements are the result of an Act of Parliament, but they were based on the usage which grew from  human beings developing what they needed. That made Imperial measurements  comfortable to use.  

The same people who constantly attempt to debunk any claim to uniqueness or distinctiveness about England and its people will doubtless point out in their pathologically self-hating way that miles are derived  from the Latin miles and pennies  the Latin denarii. That is irrelevant. What matters is that a people takes and moulds words  to their own wishes.  It is like a man who takes clay and melds it into one pot rather than another. The clay is the same, the pot is not.  

The argument that the change to a decimal currency and metric measurements is justified because of its greater ease of use holds no water.  As one who grew up using Imperial measurements  and a currency denominated in pounds, shillings and pence, I can vouch for the fact that this caused no great difficulty in everyday life.  It was what came naturally.  It is also debatable whether  in pure arithmetical terms a base of ten rather than twelve  has more utility. The duodecimal system can be factored more fluently, for example,  10 is factored by just  5 and 2, 12 is factored by 2, 3, 4 and 6.. Nor is a base of ten natural. Commonly amongst primitive peoples the counting system is something along these lines: one, two,  plenty.  No automatic use of ten because we have ten digits on the hands and feet.

The creeping metrication has produced a disturbing result.  Those who are  older  still think entirely in Imperial  and are confused by metric. The young , who have been taught only metric* in schools,   often have no firm grasp of the system  because  a system of weights and measures  formally taught  is no more likely to be remembered by most  than is algebra.  Consequently  they are confused by both Imperial and metric  measurements.   (A good way of testing whether someone understands metric is to ask them their height in metres or the waist measurement in centimetres. If you get five in a hundred to give the correct answer I would be surprised. )

The upshot of this change to metric  is not an increase in efficiency of  ease of calculation by the population as a whole but a widespread  abrogation of individual judgement on the value of things by measurement  simply because people do not understand the measure being used.  This ignorance  also has effects on work in those jobs where precision of measurement is necessary.  If someone mixing paint does not  know the difference between a millilitre and a litre trouble is assured.  The general effect is for large numbers of people to have lost any sense of proportion in measurement. It is akin to the number blindness of those who cannot do arithmetic without a calculator and consequently have no idea of whether the result they get from the input is correct.

There is also the political dimension.  Since 1896 Britons have not been  forced to  use Imperial measurements . (They were  at liberty to use either imperial or metric  in trade after  Parliament passed the Weights and Measures (Metric System) Act  in that year).  Britain’s membership of the EU has removed that freedom with  metric  measurements now being the legally required system when used for goods and services sold by quantity. Dual labelling  – metric and Imperial – was allowed  by the EU but this was meant to be phased out  by 31 December 2009. However, that demand has been dropped and what the EU calls ‘supplementary indications”  (Imperial measures) are continuing without any definite end. Nonetheless, the metric  system is the dominant legal system and any trader refusing to use  a metric measure is liable for prosecution as the “Metric Martyrs”  (most famously Steve Thoburn)  discovered.  If you want to sell a pound of potatoes you have to weigh it on metric scales and price it according to the metric price. 

It might seem  strange that the people who continuously tell us that the preservation of cultures is the most important thing in the world are also the people who  pushed through decimalisation  and are in the process of  forcing metrication on us at all costs. Sadly, there is no mystery.  It is cultural cleansing arranged by our elite in who are Quislings in the service of liberal internationalism in general and of the EU in particular.   The upshot is that English  children have been and are being denied what has been part of being English for many centuries.

I have entitled this piece the English Year Zero. Why not the British Year Zero? Because counties, our  currency and the Imperial system of weights and measures have their origins in England. Their  antiquity and origins  make them more valuable to the English than to the Celts.  A native of Yorkshire calls himself a Yorshireman  but a  Scot does not refer to himself as Midlothian or a native of Lanarshire a  Lanarkshireman. Rather, a Scot will refer to themselves as a highlander, by their clan, their religious affiliation (Protestant or Catholic)  or derive their status from a city such as  Glasgow.   The Welsh and Northern Irish have similar cultural reference points. Similarly, the Celts  have in the back of their mind that the pound sterling and  Imperial weights and measures are English imposed devices which makes them value them less at best or even be actively glad to see them destroyed or under threat.   

* school pupils are taught “rough metric equivalents of imperial units still in daily use”, but are not taught how to manipulate Imperial units –  Mathematics – The National Curriculum for England Key stages 1–4, Joint publication by Department for Education and Employment and Qualifications and Curriculum Authority 1999.

The roots of English democracy

The beginnings of English democratic thought

 Contents

INTRODUCTION

THE FRANCHISE BEFORE THE CIVIL WAR

THE DOCUMENTARY EVIDENCE

PHILOSOPHICAL AND OTHER CONSIDERATIONS

SERVANTS AND ALMSTAKERS

CONCLUSION

BIBLIOGRAPHY

INTRODUCTION

The Civil War changed English politics utterly. It brought the end of claims by the English crown to Divine Right and absolute monarchy. It promoted the political interests of the aristocracy and gentry as a class. It forced those on the Parliamentary side to effectively exercise power on their own responsibility. It created a political class which saw politics as something they could control rather than merely be part of as a adjunct to the crown. It began the constitutional process which resulted in cabinet government. It laid the foundations for the formation of political parties. In short, it sowed seeds of modern representative government.

But something else occurred which was to be even more momentous in the long run. It was during the 1640s that the belief that men should only be ruled by those they had themselves elected first became a serious political idea, not merely in England but anywhere. Amazing as it may seem now, the idea that every man (but not woman) should have an active voice in choosing those who would represent and govern them was a novel concept in the middle of the 17th  century. A form of male-only democracy existed in the ancient world, but it was never inclusive because the citizens were always greatly outnumbered by the unfree and other non-citizens.

Why was the idea of every man being an elector so revolutionary? The enfranchisement of a wide electorate is perhaps the most fundamental political change a society can undergo. It forces the elite to take note of the masses in a way that no other system does. Even the humblest man must be considered as a man in his own right, a person with a vote and needs and wishes. Those needs and wishes may be heeded and met to varying degrees, but what the majority needs and wants cannot be ignored completely when each man has a vote.

The democratic spirit was surprisingly widespread in the 1640s. By this I do not mean that men were commonly calling for full manhood suffrage, much less the emancipation of women. Rather there was a sense that the social order had been rearranged by the war, that men were on some new ground of equality and had a right to a public voice. In particular, there was a feeling that those who had fought for Parliament had won the right to enfranchisement. There was also a more widespread feeling which penetrated all social classes that the existing franchises (which varied greatly) were frequently too narrow and that the towns, particularly those most recently grown to a decent size, were grossly under-represented.

The group which gave representation to democratic feelings most successfully was the Levellers. They were a disparate and ever shifting crew, drawing their support primarily from the ranks of the Parliamentary armed forces (especially after the New Model Army was formed), small tradesmen, journeymen and apprentices. However, they also included  those from higher social classes, their most famous leader, John Lilburne, being the child of minor gentry.

To call them a political party in the modern sense would be misleading. Yet they were the closest thing to it both then and arguably for several centuries. Their tactics and organisation were modern – the use of pamphletering and newspapers, the ability to get large number of supporters onto the streets (especially in London) at the drop of a hat, the creation of local associations. They also developed an increasingly sophisticated political programme in a series of documents known as The Agreements of the People. These Agreements dealt extensively with political representation and structure. The levellers were also very successful in creating an enemy and sense of grievance. They did this by portraying 1640s England as having declined from a golden age of freedom under the heel of the Normans and their French successors.

Led for the most part by a man of preternatural obstinacy, courage and unreasonableness, John Lilburne (“freeborn Jack”), the Levellers frightened the Parliamentary leaders sufficiently to force various negotiations and discussions. These culminated in the Putney Debates in 1647 when Parliamentary and Army leaders including, Cromwell and his son-in-law Henry Ireton, met with a variety of people on what might broadly be called the democratic side.  Unfortunately Lilburne was not able to attend. Nonetheless,the Leveller position was strongly represented. Most importantly, much of the debate was taken down in shorthand. It is a most intriguing document. The sheer range of political ideas it displays is impressive. It shows clearly that in the 1640s there was a very high degree of sophistication amongst the politically interested class. The ideas run from the monarchical to the unreservedly democratic. This document together with the Leveller pamphlets provide ample evidence of Leveller thinking.

How far did the Levellers reach in their search for political inclusion? Did they go the whole hog and seek a full manhood franchise or were they much more cautious? That is the question which I shall now examine with the aid of Prof C.B. Macpherson.

Macpherson contends in his ‘Theory of Possessive Individualism’ that the Levellers were  never advocates of universal manhood suffrage, but, rather, sought a  restricted franchise which excluded servants (to be equated with wage-earners) and almstakers (or beggars).

He is extremely emphatic in his conclusions. As we shall see, there are substantial reasons for doubting his certainty, both on the question of universal manhood suffrage and on the extent to which a more restricted suffrage was accepted by the Levellers.

To answer the question I shall begin by describing the  attitude  taken towards the franchise before the  Levellers.

I will then cover, in much the same order as  Macpherson, the documentary evidence he puts before us.

Having done this, I shall examine the philosophy he attributes to the Levellers in order to explain their  motivations and to bring forth  any  further evidence and observations.  

Lastly, I will deal with the definition of servants and almstakers,  plus the  nature of Macpherson’s statistics.

 Chapter 1

 THE FRANCHISE BEFORE THE CIVIL WAR

Discontent with electoral qualifications, provisions and practices was not an infant of the Civil War and  its aftermath, although it was greatly increased by those events,  Rather it was the end of a trail which began in Elizabeth’s reign and reached  its highest pitch, prior to the 1640s, during the years 1621 to 1623.

The discontent was provoked primarily by the situation in the boroughs rather than the counties, Since 1430, the county electorate had been restricted to the forty shilling freeholder, which qualification had become almost sacrosanct by the end of the sixteenth century –  only one proposal outside the ‘Great Rebellion’ (1621) was made to raise or lower it.  Tudor inflation had  greatly lowered the barrier it represented (40 shillings in 1600 was worth perhaps 15 shillings at 1430 values) and it is reasonable  to suppose this considerably increased the rural electorate. Also, there is evidence to suggest that the qualification was not always enforced1 and some county electorates may have had a very broad manhood franchise indeed prior to 1640.

Borough franchises were anything but uniform. In some the whole ‘commonalty’  (all householders) or  even all ‘potwallers’ (men with their own  hearths) voted. In others the vote was restricted to all taxpayers (‘scot and lot’), freemen of the town, or those in possession of burgage property. In extreme cases the vote might be restricted to the ruling corporation. Such discrepancies of representation were aggravated by a distribution of borough seats which took insufficient  account of the demographic changes of the past two centuries, during which time England’s population increased very substantially, perhaps by as much as a third. All this meant that there was fertile soil for agitation for more equal borough representation, both in terms of the breadth of the franchise and in the number of seats.

Tudor monarchs, not unnaturally, did not favour larger electorates2. The existence of ‘rotten boroughs’ was a source of patronage and, if the monarch could control the oligarchies who returned the MP, a means of reducing opposition to the Crown. As there was a significant number of such boroughs, this was no small advantage to the monarch.

The attitude of Parliament to the franchise was mixed. The Lords had a similar interest to the Crown in distrusting broad franchises. The peers often effectively controlled seats in the Commons. They also had a natural inclination to deny the ‘commonality’ any voice in the affairs of the kingdom. Conversely, it was obviously in the Commons’ interest to increase electorates, where such increases reduced the Monarch’s’ and the Lord’s opportunities for patronage.

There is particular evidence that the Puritans favoured larger electorates, at least in so far as it suited their own purposes. At Warwick in 1586 Job Throckmorton was  elected after he threatened to invoke the right of the ‘commonality to vote. In 1587 John Field remarked to  colleague ‘seeing we cannot compass these things by suit or dispute, it is the multitude and people that must  bring the discipline to pass which we desire.’3 As Puritans displaced many court nominees and the creatures of aristocrats, this is significant in view of  the attitude of the Commons towards electoral qualifications  between 1621 and 1628.

By 1621, the Commons had gained the right to decide disputed elections and to revive lapsed borough seats and  even make new creations, The tendency until 1628 was to  ecide in favour of wider franchise and to allow  all the ‘commonality’ to vote. At Bletchingly (1624) and Lewes (1628) ‘all the inhabitants ,’ were to be  electors’, and at Cirencester (1624) all ‘resients:’.  n the case of Pontefract in 1624 a general principle was formulated:

‘There being no certain custom nor prescription, who should be the electors and who not, we  must have recourse to common right which, to this purpose was held to be, that more than the  freeholders only ought to  have  voices  in the election, namely all men,  inhabitants,  householders resient within the borough.’4

Further, in the case of Boston (1628) it was asserted that the election of burgesses belonged by common right to the   commoners and only prescription or ‘a constant usage  beyond all memory’ could rob them of this.5

It is true that when the Commons revived or created borough  seats, they concentrated, as the Tudors had done, on small towns to promote their own advantage. But,  even so,  they granted ‘scot and lot’ franchises in every case (except Weobley) which meant  that even small towns such as Great Marlow or Hilbourne Port had electorate of around 200.

Bills  were  introduced to  regulate  elections and standardise, the franchise in 1621, 1623, 1625, 1628  and 1640, The 1621 Bill is of particular interest because it proposed that the 40/- freeholder qualification be increased to œ4 and to admit œ10 copyholders by  inheritance. The borough proposals add no more than the various decisions on individual cases (in fact even less), for electors were to be freemen except where they numbered less than twenty-four, in which case all  inhabitants  not in receipt of alms were to be included,

In 1640 the franchise was raised again by Sir Simonds D’Ewes. It was he who first uttered the idea later made famous by Thomas Rainsborough ‘that the poorest man in England ought to have a voice, that it was the birthright of the subjects of England and all had voices in the election of Knights etc. previously.’6

In 1641 a bill had reached second reading but was then lost. D’Ewes favoured its contents except that he ‘desired that whereas it was provided in the bill that none that took alms should have voices in elections, which I well allowed, we would  likewise provide that no more monopolizing elections might be in cities and boroughs, that all men resients might have voices.’7

It is also noteworthy, both for its own sake and the part it played in Leveller literature, that many believed that the Statute of 1430 had disenfranchised  people. William May, in 1621, said ‘Anciently, all thecommonality had voice, but because such a multitude made the election tumultuous, it was after reduced to freeholders’.  William Prynne put it even more plainly, ‘Before this  Petition and Act every inhabitant and commoner in each county had voice in the election of Knights, whether he were a freeholder or not, or had a freehold only of one penny, six pence or twelve pence by the year as they now claim of late in most cities and boroughs where popular elections are admitted’8. It is a sobering thought that if the Statute of 1430 did disenfranchise large numbers of county electors, the county franchise may have been wider in medieval England than it was to be again before the end of the nineteenth century and conceivably wider than the Franchise before the 1918 Representation of the People Act.

What  of the position of servants,  wage-earners and almstakers in all this? Resident household servants were generally considered beyond the pale, although  ‘servants’ were said to have voted in the Worcestershire county election of 1604. Wage-earners certainly did so, for those in the ‘potwaller’ and ‘scot and lot’ constituencies were granted the right to vote. Almstakers were excluded in the 1621 and 1640 bills, yet at Great Marlow in 1604 77 of the 245 voters were said to be almstakers, nine of  them inmates of the almshouse. In 1640 the right of the Bember inmates to vote was said to have been sustained  and in 1662 the St. Albans almsmen were said to have ‘had voices time out of mind’.

It is clear from all this, that the Levellers did not enter untilled ground when they broached the question of the franchise. There are also, for our purposes, three points of particular interest. First, the Commons,  or at least an influential  part of it,  was not unduly disturbed by the prospect of an enlarged electorate. Second, people whom Macpherson claims the Levellers would have excluded – servants and almstakers – were ncluded in the franchise long before the Civil War. Third, that there existed even gentlemen (such as Sir Simonds D’Ewes) who had an active and unambiguous democratic spirit. The latter point is particularly pertinent because the chief Leveller, John Lilburne, was also of gentle-birth, a fact he never ceased to emphasise. Democratic ideas were not thus foreign bodies suddenly introduced by the Levellers.

 Notes

 I. K. Thomas. The Levellers and the Franchise answer p.62

 2. J.H, Plunb. The Growth of the electorate 1600-1715

 3. Ibid

 4. Ibid

 5 K. Thomas, The Levellers and the Franchise p.62

 6. Ibid p.63

 7. Ibid p.64

 8 Ibid p.64

Chapter 2

THE DOCUMENTARY EVIDENCE

The roots of Macpherson’s conclusions lie in the Putney Debates. Prior to Putney, the franchise received relatively little attention in Leveller writings, Those statements which do exist do not explicitly exclude servants and almstakers, and have the appearance of demands for universal  manhood suffrage.  Post  Putney  statements on the other hand consistently advocate, for whatever reason, the exclusion of servants and almstakers. The evidence  of  the Putney  debates provides  Macpherson  with his main means of resolving, at least to his mind, this apparent inconsistency.

The question of the franchise occupied most of the second day’s debate at Putney. The first article of the (First) Agreement demanded ‘That the People of England,.,. ought to be more indifferently proportioned according to the number of inhabitants.’ This provoked Cromwell’s son-in-law, Henry Ireton to say:

‘The exception that lies in it is this. It is said, they are to be distributed according to the number of  inhabitants, ‘The People of England’ etc. And this  doth make me think that the meaning is that every man that is an inhabitant is to be equally considered, and to have an equal voice in the election of those representors, the persons that are for the general representative…’2

Thus Ireton, whatever his motives, charges the Levellers atthe earliest possible opportunity, with seeking universal suffrage. Petty is the first Leveller to answer: ‘We judge that all inhabitants that have not lost their birthright should have an equal voice in elections’,3

Macpherson thinks it significant that Petty does not state in plain words whether he is for or against universal suffrage. Yet why should he have felt obliged to do so? Ireton has asked a plain question and Petty’s reply, no matter what construction is put upon the phrase ‘all inhabitants that have not lost their birthright’, is an adequate and reasonable answer. Surely more significant is the fact that those with Leveller sympathies did not recoil from the suggestion with horror. However, there is a note of ambiguity in Petty’s answer and it is possible, as A.L.Morton suggests4, that Rainsborough’s famous speech which follows immediately (the poorest he that is in England etc.)5 was intended to clarify the situation.

But by far the most significant passage for Macpherson occurs when the debate has turned to considering the particulars rather than the general issue of the franchise, Cromwell in what appears to be a state of some impatience suddenly says:

‘If we should go about to alter these things, I do not think we are bound to fight  for every  particular  proposition. Servants while servants, are not included. Then you agree that  he that receive alms is to be excluded?’

The first to reply is Lt. Col. Thomas Reade, who, although more progressive in spirit than Cromwell, was no Leveller:

 ’I  suppose it’s concluded by all,  that  the  choosing of representatives is a privilege: now I see no reason why any man that is a native ought to be excluded that privilege, unless  from  voluntary  servitude.’ ‘

 Then follow the critical words of Petty:

 ’I  conceive  the reason why we would exclude  apprentices or servants, or those who take alms,  because they depend upon the will of other  men and should be afraid to displease (them). For servants and apprentices, they are included in their master, and so for those  that receive alms from door to door’6

This passage is remarkable for a number of reasons. First, Cromwell assumes general agreement  that servants were to be excluded, although, up to this point in the debate, there appears little, if any, justification for doing so. This may indeed support  Macpherson’s contention that all parties, including, the Levellers were strong for exclusion. But there  are  alternative explanations. Cromwell’s impatience may have got the better of him  and he could have made such a statement in order to  browbeat any opposition. It is after all a common debating trick, and we have ample evidence from Putney and elsewhere that Cromwell was prone to behaving in a domineering and high-handed manner.

Second, what of Petty’s reply? In the first place it may merely be as J.C. Davis7 suggests, a statement of what Petty considered the grounds on which Cromwell would advocate exclusion, rather than an endorsement of them. Alternatively, if we accept that Petty was in agreement with Cromwell, which might be suggested by the alacrity of his reply, other considerations  rise. Macpherson considers Petty to have been the main Leveller spokesman at Putney and by implication, fully representative of Leveller opinion.

This is a dangerous road to travel. Petty, apart from his appearance  at Putney  and on a number of Leveller-Independent committees, was a somewhat obscure figure in the Leveller camp, Perhaps significantly, he was involved in the drafting of the compromise Second Agreement and in later years became a member of Harrington’s aristocratic-republican Rota Club.8 None of this of course does more than suggest that Petty may have been less than representative of Leveller thought, particularly that of Overton and Lilburne.

Petty may have been an opportunist willing to support a movement whose aims and ideals he did not necessarily consider sacrosanct but merely convenient. Or he may have turned his coat  when the movement  failed.  Whatever the truth of the matter, we may join with A.L. Morton in wishing that if Lilburne had been at Putney and in thinking that the position might well be clearer if he had been able to do so.

Then there is the position of Rainsborough at Putney, where he unambiguously embraced adult manhood suffrage. It is true that Rainsborough had, as far as is known, no direct connection with the Levellers prior to Putney, but his sympathies were clearly with the Levellers and he enjoyed a considerable reputation in the Party after Putney, His contribution to the franchise debate was by far the most forceful  on the Leveller side (in the sense that Rainsborough agreed with the Leveller arguments rather than those of Cromwell et al) and greatly outweighed that of Petty. If Rainsborough’s ideas were so acceptable to Levellers after Putney, why not before and during Putney?

Macpherson uses Petty’s reply to Cromwell as a springboard to launch his theory. He  admits that  further sustaining evidence to support his proposition is necessary. The says quite correctly, that Levellers did believe that the right to elect could be forfeited by (freeborn) men. Up until Putney, delinquency was commonly cited as being sufficient reason, However, it must be remembered that the Levellers were in favour of reconciliation with the royalists (delinquents). The fact that they proposed to exclude them for a relatively short period of time from the franchise, (provided their behaviour was satisfactory)is scarcely surprising, for the situation was exceptional. It is reasonable to see such exclusion as simply an extraordinary measure to settle the country after a civil war. One would be very rash to assume that this attitude was indicative of Leveller opinion in general on the loss of birthright.

Macpherson  continues by quoting the  franchise  clause (section ll) of the Petition of January 1648:

‘Whereas  it hath been the ancient liberty of this  nation, that all the  freeborn  people have freely elected their representers  in Parliament,  and their sheriffs and Justices of the Peace, etc. and they were abridged of that their native liberty by a statute of the 8.H.6,7. That, therefore, the birthright of all English  men be forthwith restored to all which are not,  or shall not be legally disenfranchised for some  criminal  cause,  or are under 21 years of age, or servants or beggars .’9

Of this Macpherson says there could scarcely be a clearer indication that the Levellers assumed that those who became servants or beggars thereby forfeited their birthright to a voice in elections (p.124). We may well agree that at this time the Levellers were willing to do so, but as the whole point of Macpherson’s task is to establish a consistency in Leveller thinking, we are really no further down the path of enlightenment. If the Levellers from Putney onward did compromise at various points, it does not prove that they wished for anything other than a full manhood suffrage. More probably, such compromises are simply reluctant adjustments to the political realities of the time.

The  seems to be on firmer ground when he turns to a letter sent from several Agitators of the Army to their respective Regiments (llth November, 1647) concerning the franchise debate at Putney. This tells us that ‘it was concluded by vote in the affirmative:  viz, that all soldiers and others, if they be not servants or beggars, ought to have voices in electing those which shall represent them in Parliament, although they have not forty shillings per annum in freehold land And there were but three voices against this your native freedon’lO.

It does at first glance seem strange that the exclusion of servants and beggars should be linked with the phrase ‘this your native freedom’. However, it must be remembered that the Agitators’ prime concern was for  the soldiers  they represented. If it is accepted that the leading  Independents were willing to include all  soldiers, regardless of their status, in the franchise, it  then  becomes possible that the phrase ‘this your native freedom’ applied to the soldiers rather than the whole  population.

‘The Grand Designe’ of John Harris (the agitators’ pointer) which appeared in December, 1647, and the Third  Agreement of May, 1649, present similar problems. In the former, Harris explained that the intent of the First Article (which provoked the franchise debate at Putney) was that the electors should be:

  ’all  men that are not servants or  beggars, it being pure  equity, that as all  persons are bound to yield obedience to the decrees of the  Representative or Parliament, so they should have a  voice in  the  electing their Representatives or Members of Parliament’ 11,

While the franchise clause of the latter stated that the electors would be:

‘(according to natural right) all men of the age of one and twenty years and upwards (not being servants or receiving alms, or having served the late King in arms or voluntary contributions) l2.

The equating of ‘all persons’, and ‘all men that are not servants or beggars’ in the former and ‘the according to naturall right’ in the latter seem to lend weight to Macpherson’s argument. Yet in both the authors were using well tried phrases and need not have considered the full implications of them. Also, in the latter case, as A.L. Morton says, the statement of general principle occurred before any of the exceptions were detailed.

Having come this far, Macpherson feels he is in a position to interpret, as he puts it, the apparent claims of the Levellers for an ‘unqualified manhood franchise’ and their opponent’s attribution of this to them at Putney, and  the lack  of  any explicit exclusion of servants prior  to Putney.  Thus, when the Levellers used phrases such as ‘every inhabitant’, ‘every person in England’ or ‘the poorest man in England’, Macpherson believes that we must assume that they really meant ‘all freeborn men who have not lost their birthright’, a loss of birthright toinclude servants and beggars. This is a great deal to read into the evidence.

Ireton and Cromwell, on the other hand, were so concerned to defend the existing franchise qualifications, Macpherson says, that for the purpose of debate they were indifferent to whether the Levellers sought an unqualified franchise  or merely a broader but still restricted one. When Ireton referred to ‘all persons’, ‘any man that hath a breath and being’ , ‘all inhabitants’, or Cromwell ‘men that have no interest but the interest  of breathing’13,  this  thinks  Macpherson was hyperbole by Cromwell and Ireton to sharpen the issue, Yet if it were hyperbole, why was it not resisted more vigorously and unambiguously by Petty et al?

Macpherson fastens on to the fact that, as he puts it, “even after Cromwell had explicitly recognized that the Levellers’ proposal excludedservants and almstakers, he still spoke of it as tending to anarchy because it would give a vote to ‘all those who are in the Kingdom’”14. Now, as we have seen, it is by no means certain that Cromwell’s statement was accepted by the Levellers (p above). The fact that he continued to impute to the Levellers this position may reasonably be taken as an indication that the Levellers had not accepted it, that it was an agreed position and Cromwell words thus exaggeration. The same reasoning may be applied to the fact that the Levellers did not bother to refute these ‘apparent’ imputations of manhood suffrage. Indeed, it would seem more significant that they did not do so.

The reason why they refrained from answering such claims directly, says Macpherson, was because it would not have helped their case to have done so, being more concerned to refute the charge that their proposals would destroy property. This is conceivable yet unlikely, unless we accept that the Levellers were only concerned with a limited franchise along  Macpherson’s lines. Moreover, one cannot divide the questions of the franchise and the feared destruction of property, for one stems from the other.

Neither do I find the fact that only Colonel Rich mentioned the Levellers’ ‘supposed ‘ intention to include servants necessarily indicative of a general consensus of opinion. It is surely significant that he mentioned it at all in the light of Macpherson’s position. Nor do I think he was contradicted by Rainsborough as Macpherson believes. Rich said:

 ’If the master and servant shall be  equal electors, then clearly those that have no interest in the Kingdom will make  it their interest to choose those that have no interest. It may happen, that the majority may by law,  not in confusion, destroy property;  there may be a law enacted,  that there shall be an equality of goods and estate’

He then proceeds to point out the danger that the poor night, as in Rome, set up a dictator15. Rainsborough replies:

‘I think it is a fine gilded pill. But there is much danger,  and it may seen to some that there is some kind of remedy [possible]. I think we  are better as we are [if it can be really proved] that the poor should choose many [and] still the people be in the some case, be over voted still,  But of this and much else, I am unsatisfied… and the[first] thing that I am unsatisfied in is how it comes about that  there is such propriety in some freeborn Englishmen and not [in] others.’16

Now this is, to say the least, a messy passage, but its meaning, if we accept Woodhouse’s additions, is surely plain enough. Rainsborough is rejecting  Rich’s suggestion and when he speaks of ‘being better as we are’ he is merely saying that if he was certain this would be the result of an unqualified franchise, he would reject it, but that, in fact, he does not believe this would be the result. He sees it in other words as a red herring. Indeed, if we were to accept that he did not take this position, we are forced to conclude that Rainsborough was in favour of no change at all, which would be a howling nonsense in view of his explicitly democratic ideas.

There is another passage from Putney which suggests that servants were not automatically excluded by all present. Captain Rolfe appeals for greater moderation, saying, ‘I shall desire that a medium or some thoughts of composure, [may be had] in relation to servants or to foreigners, or such others shall be agreed upon.’ Captain Clarke , who possessed Leveller sympathies, replied first, stating that he too ‘shall desire [that] before the question be stated it may be moderated as for foreigners’17. It is noteworthy that  Clarke,  although  agreeing  that foreigners should  be excluded, does not mention servants and that Rolfe believes too much heat is being generated by the subject, scarcely an indication that all concerned agreed that servants were beyond the pale.

The pre-Putney documents receive similar treatment from Macpherson. The case of ‘the Army truely stated’(15th October, 1647), which ha originally accepted as a demand for full manhood suffrage18, asked that:

‘all  the freeborn at the age of  twenty-one years and upwards,  be the electors,  excepting those that have or shall deprive themselves of that their freedom either for some  years or wholly by delinquency.19

This the  sees as excluding servants  and almstakers. This seems a most peculiar conclusion. Why on earth should servants or almstakers be described as delinquent? Delinquency in the seventeenth century meant much what it does today, namely antisocial acts(particularly criminal ones). Being a servant or almstaker could not denote delinquency, for the former was in useful employment and the latter more often than not had to prove that they were of good character before being in receipt of alms (This particularly applied to those in almshouse). Moreover, the common objection to granting the vote to servants and almstakers was one of dependency. Yet it is not mentioned here.

It is just possible that the temporary exclusion referred to apprentices. This  Macpherson rejects as most of such would be under 21, but K. Thomas is favourable to the idea on the grounds that the legal age for the end of apprenticeship was 24. Again, the question arises: why should apprentices be described generally as delinquents?

For my own part, I think it probable that the exclusion of delinquents referred solely to royalists, or just possibly to civilian delinquents, that is, common-criminals. The term delinquent has a special and technical meaning in the context of the civil war, namely a royalist who was considered to be both recalcitrant and to have been a serious and persistent supporter of the King (the practical application of this definition was inconsistent, but that was the theory).

It is true that permanent exclusion seems to run contrary to the Leveller desire for reconciliation with royalists, but it is not necessarily certain  that the authors of ‘The Case’ shared such sentiments. They may for instance  have believed that certain royalists were so responsible for the troubles of the war, that no leniency could be extended. Such an argument could also be advanced in the case of common criminals.

Of the other documents, Lilburne’s ’England’s Birth-right Justified’ (October 1645), ‘London’s Liberty In Chains Discovered’ (October 1646), ‘The Charters of London’; or,  ‘The  Second Part  of  London’s  Chains  discovered’ (December,  1646), and ‘Rash Oaths Unwarrantable’ (May, 1647)20, all fall foul of Macpherson because  they contain such terms as ‘freeborn’, and ‘freemen ‘, in connection with the franchise. This is another case when we must beware of reading too much into regular Leveller phraseology, which would be more suitably viewed as rhetoric, an affirmation in this case that all men were born possessed of the same birthright, and should enjoy the same, There are many instances where such phrases were used in connection with other matters, such a religion or civil liberties, which Macpherson  claims  the Levellers believed were inalienable, and he presumably would not wish to argue that the use of ‘freeborn’ in these contexts did not mean all men, (and indeed women).

 ’London’s Liberty in Chains’ is of particular  interest to ship Macpherson because it bases  its  claim for a broader franchise on the fact that the statute of 1430 (8′H’6’7) had disenfranchised many who  had previously had the vote.  This, says Macpherson, cannot be a claim for manhood suffrage for it is merely a claim to remove the forty shilling qualification which does not necessarily mean servants and almstakers would be included. This is correct, but neither does it mean that it was only a plea for tenant farmers and non-corporate traders and craftsmen, if we bear in mind the evidence of the previous chapter, particularly Poynnes’ words (see above ).

The other two documents that Macpherson examines are ‘The Remonstrance of Many Thousand Citizens, and Other Freeborn People of England’ (July, 1646), and ‘Jonah’s Cry out of the Whale’s Belly’ (July 1647). The former requests that every year in November elections should take place and that ‘all men that have a right to be there, not to fail upon a great penalty, but no summons to be  expected’21. This Macpherson this significant for it states that voting would be by ‘all men that have a right’, not simply all men. Yet, in view of the circumstances of 1646 when the position of  royalists had to be considered, should we expect that no exclusions would be thought reasonable then? The answer is surely no.

The latter document is concerned with the right of soldiers to vote. It states that ‘according to the principles of safety, flowing from Nature, Reason and Justice…  every individual private soldier, whether Horse or Foot, aut freely to have their vote, to chuse the transactors of their affairs.’ This does not necessarily imply that the soldiers desired the same for civilians. However, we know that documents which either originated from or involved the Army, expressed concern for the population as a whole.

The documentary evidence is, to put it politely, less than conclusive. In the absence of even one unassailable statement, Macpherson is forced to rely on building up his argument  by interpretation.  The disadvantage of this is that in so many instances an equally plausible interpretation can be made to prove the contrary. This is not, however, to suggest that  Macpherson has been proven completely mistaken, for we must not fall into the trap, which he himself falls into, of insisting on consistency to the extent where  every statement must be interpreted  in a certain fashion.

 Notes

 1 D. H ‘Wolfe, Leveller .Manifestoes .226

 2 A,S.P Woodhouse, Puritanism and Liberty , p.52

 3 Ibid, p.55

 4. A,L. Morton, Leveller Democracy p.205.

 5 A,S.P. Woodhouse, Puritanism and Liberty p.53

 6. Ibid, pp. 82-3

 7. J. Davis, The Levellers and Democracy ,

 8. K. Thomas, The Levellers and the Franchise p.67,

 9 D.H. Wolfe, Leveller Manifestoes P,269.

 10. ASP Woodhouse, p.452.

 11. C .B, Macpherson, p125

 12. D.H. Wolfe, p.403

 13. A.S.P. Woodhouse, pp, 57, 70, 63, 77.

 14. C.B. Macpherson, p.126.

 15. A,S.P. Woodhouse, pp.63, 64.

 16. Ibid, p,64.

 17.A.S.P. Woodhouse, p,30.

 18.K.Thomas, p. 212

 19. D.H. Wolfe, p.212.

 20. England Birthright Justified’ is printed in Haller  ’Tracts on Liberty in  the  Puritan Revolution’, ‘London in Chains’, ‘The Second Part of London  Chains  discovered’ and  ’Rash  Oaths  Unwarrantable’, are not readily available. See Macpherson  pp. 131-135.

 21. ‘The Remonstrance’ is printed in H.H. Wolfe , p.129, but ‘Jonah’s Cry’ is not readily available. See Macpherson,  p.135,

 Chapter 3

PHILOSOPHICAL AND OTHER CONSIDERATIONS

The philosophy which Macpherson  attributes to the Levellers to explain why they proposed  to exclude servant and almstakers derived from the view of a man’s capacities (i.e.  his own labour) as a commodity which  could be sold, This Macpherson believes was the dominant ideology in 17th Century England. Thus, although the Levellers believed that all Englishmen were born with the same  birthright, certain parts of this birthright could be forfeited. Religious, civil and even  possibly economic rights could not be alienated justly, and as such should be protected constitutionally.  The  right  to elect, however, could be forfeited by entering into a condition of dependence, either by taking wages or alms. In such  cases, a just dependence resulted and the  subservient individual’s voice was deemed to be included in that of his master or benefactor, as far as a voice in elections was concerned, jut as that of a wife was deemed to be included in that of her husband.

That this could be  considered just  is further explained by what Macpherson deems to be the general contemporary opinion of what the functions of government should be. The primary function of 17th Century government, Macpherson informs us, was ‘to make and enforce the rules within which men could make the most of their own energies and cpacities’ and the secondary function, derived from the first, was ‘the protection of property in goods and estate’ (p.144). Servants and almstakers had lost the ‘property in their own had labour’ and, therefore, had presumably no land or capital, and as such could have no interest in either function of government,

At first glance this line of argument is both plausible and attractive. We are dealing with an openly acquisitive society which judged a man in large part on the basis of his material estate, and which was still pronouncedly hierarchical. Add in Man’s natural tribal inclinations, and it would not have been  unreasonable for the Levellers in such a situation to be  concerned with advancing those with whom they had most sympathy, the small men, while neglecting the needs of other  groups. Also, the exposition is alluring because it  purports to provide us with a means of assessing all Leveller aims and of removing inconsistencies using a system which is logical and neat. Yet, like all intellectual schemes which purport to show Man as a consistent political animal, the cracks soon begin to appear when compared to the reality.

First let us examine parts of Overton’s ‘An Arrow against all Tyrants’ (19th October, 1646) and his ‘Appeale’ (July, 1547):

‘No man hath power over my rights and liberties, and I over no man’s….for by naturall birth all men are equally and alike borne to like propriety, liberty and freedom,  and as we are  delivered of  God by the hand of nature  into this world, everyone  with a naturall, innate freedom and propriety….even so are we to live, every one equally and alike to enjoy his birthright and privilege…. [no more of which may be alienated]  than is conducive to a better being, more  safety and freedome….[for] every man by nature being a King, Priest and Prophet in his own naturall circuit and compasse, whereof no second may partake,  but  by deputation,  commission and  free  consent from  him,  whose  naturall right and freedome it is.’1

In the ‘Appeale’ 0verton adds to this splendid statement of individual liberty, the duty of all men to protect themselves ‘from all things hurtful, destructive and obnoctious thereto to the utmost of [their] power’. It is difficult to accept that any man who could express such sentiments would willingly have allowed that large numbers of men be excluded from the franchise simply because of their position in life.

However, what concerns Macpherson is ‘the proprietorial quality of the Leveller individualism’. The essence of  Man to the Levellers was freedom which meant the proprietorship of one’s own person and capacities (P.142).

From this Macpherson deduces that certain rights were considered inalienable while the right to elect was not. Thus, ‘property in one’s own mental and spiritual  person required freedom of  speech, publication and religion’ (P.142). These rights, apart from their justification by natural law, were demanded for  all because in Lilburne’s words ‘what is done to any one, may be done to every one’3. Similarly, economic rights must be demanded for everyone or monopolists would return, arbitrary taxation and regulation, introduced, even though only those had retained the disposal of their own labour could benefit from them directly,

It is a pity that Macpherson does not extend this line of reasoning to the right to elect. For surely in this  case  as  well, provision against arbitrary disenfranchisement would be necessary and what better method, on Lilburne’s reasoning, than to extend it to all. To this, of course, Macpherson will reply that the functions of government did not concern ‘those who had lost their birthright’, Yet, neither apparently did economic rights  and there would be as much reason to claim the right to elect for all on expedient grounds as there was in the case of economic rights. Further, if we examine the extent to which the Third Agreement especially shackled Parliament, what possible harm, by way of anarchy, levelling of estates etc. could come of it,

The likely answer as to why the Levellers did exclude servants and almstakers after Putney is expediency, either for the reason Petty gave, that dependant men would be afraid to displease their masters, or because they were made aware of political realities.  Macpherson doubts whether the Levellers would have excluded nearly two-thirds of the adult male population on the grounds of expediency, because he believes that they were such committed idealists they could not have brought themselves to such a business.

This is a rather surprising conclusion for, as J.C. Davis4 points out, the Levellers did compromise on the tithes, an issue of principle if ever there was one for them. The March Petition of 1647 and the July Appeale demanded abolition of tithes without provision for compensation. It was not mentioned in the first Agreement5, and deliberately left out from the January Petition of 1643 so as not to ‘disengage any considerable party, and so continue our distractions’. It returned in the Humble Petition (September , 1648) and the Second Agreement, but now with provisions for satisfying all impropriations.

Also, we must remember that the Levellers compromised on the franchise,  even by Macpherson’s account,  in the Second  Agreement. Of course,  Macpherson would be quick to point out the difference between the ratepayer franchise  (adopted in the Agreement) of 375,300,  and the non-servant franchise he says the Levellers wanted (416,700), was so small to be scarcely worth mentioning,  In that case, why  should the matter have raised so much consternation  at Putney.  Macpherson  says the dispute at Putney arose because Ireton and Cromwell wanted nothing more than the freeholder franchise. Yet Cromwell at Putney admitted he was willing to allow that ‘perhaps  there are a very considerable part of copyholders, by inheritance, that ought to have a voice’6.

There is further evidence that the Levellers compromised. When all seemed lost after Burford, ‘The Remonstrance of Many Thousands of the Free-people of England’ offered  amongst other things votes to ‘all that come unto us’. The  tone of the ‘Remonstrance’ is savage, reflecting the bitter anger felt by the author at the betrayal of the people’s iberties.  That it offered votes to ‘all that come unto us’ may merely be, in part at least, a reflection of this bitterness and also of the fact that it was a call to armed rebellion, Yet it is surely significant that such a statement should be made so soon after the ‘Third Agreement’ which although a partial compromise designed to appeal to moderate opinion, is none the less often viewed as the final position  of  the  Levellers. It is also interesting to note that it demanded ‘that  every free-commoner shall be put into a way and enabled with means for his natural subsistence’7, surely in this context meaning all commoners and thus giving added strength to the belief that the use of the word ‘free’ was merely a rhetorical device.

 A further pamphlet which was Leveller in tone was ‘A Charge of High Treason exhibited  against Oliver Cromwell’ (1653), which summoned all the people of England to the polls ‘as well  masters, sons of servants’ which, if nothing else, reflects a radicalism that, whatever the truth of Macpherson’s  case, reminds us that we have every cause to assume that the seeds of manhood suffrage were always there.

 Notes

 1. C.B. Macpherson, pp. 140-1

 2. Ibid, p.141.

 3. Haller and Davies, The Leveller Tracts, p.455.

 4 J.C. Davis , The Levellers and Democracy .

 5 The  Agreement was  concerned with short-term

 measures which may well explain the exclusion.

 6. A.S.P. Woodhouse, P.7.

 7. Levellers and the Puritan Revolution, p.575

 Chapter 4

 SERVANTS AND ALMSTAKERS

Macpherson  has calculated  (using Gregory King’s estimate of 1688) that universal manhood suffrage in 1648 would have enfranchised 1,170,400 men. The exclusion  of  servants and almstakers (by Prof Macpherson’s definition, and accepting that all soldiers regardless of status were to be enfranchised) would have reduced this figure to 416,700. Thus, the Levellers on this reckoning  were  committed  to excluding nearly two-thirds of the adult male  population from the franchise. That I would suggest is a palpable nonsense.

Various criticisms may be made concerning the manner in which Macpherson has  treated  King’s figures.  These ‘statistics’ were at best informed guesses, and  King himself considerably varied his estimates of the size of social classes.1 In addition, Macpherson takes no account of a probably significant rise in wage-earners between 1648 and 1688, It may  even be, as A.L. Morton suggests,2 that King’s figures are misleading for  1693, because they do not differentiate adequately between the many graduations of employment to be found between a simple wage-earner and independent producer or artisan.

However, such criticisms do not go to the heart of the matter. The crux of the problem lies in the meaning given to the terms servant and almstaker (or beggar)by the Levellers within the context of  the franchise. To  read Macpherson is to gain the impression that servant in  common  contemporary  usage was given the usual meaning which he ascribes to it, i.e. wage-earner.

Yet it would appear that contemporaries used the term variously to accommodate the semantic confusion arising from an attempt to apply a social vocabulary inherited from a feudal and patriarchal past to the needs  of a society in which the relationship of master and servant was steadily yielding to that of employer and wage-earner.3

In fact, as K. Thomas points out, none of the three contemporary economic writers to whom Macpherson refers, Andrew Yarranton, John Carey and Thomas Firrin (p.282), equated ‘servants’ with day-labourers, the latter actually distinguishing between single persons who earned money by pinning with ‘servants’, that is, apprentices or domestics .

The Statute of Artificers also distinguished between ‘servants ‘ who contracted for a year or similar period and ‘artificers and  labourers being hired for wages by the day or week’. Richard Mayo, the author of ‘Present for Servants’ (1693),  considered the normal usage concerned those who ‘….have voluntarily submitted  themselves, by  contract, for a certain time to the disposal of others, according to the word of God, and the laws of the realm’ 4.

Now let us refer back to the statement of Petty during the Putney debates. (p. ). His reason for exclusion was ‘because they depend upon the will of other men and should be afraid to displease then’. In the light of this, there was obviously a  considerable difference between a man contracted to serve a year or so, who could only break his contract by mutual agreement with his employer or by order of a J.P on application by master or servant alone, and a wage-earner who was employed more or less casually, who, in theory at least, could change  employer  frequently  and also could be dismissed at   will. (It might appear that the contracted servant was in  a vastly more secure position, but it must  be remembered  that unilateral application would be infinitely more likely to be granted to an employer than a  servant).

There is further evidence that the Levellers were, at worst, concerned with excluding only those who were really bound to one man. The franchise clause of the  Second Agreement states that electors ‘shall be Natives, or Denizen of England, not persons receiving Alms .,. not servants to,  and receiving wages from any particular person’5 . It is even possible that this ‘wage from any particular person’  represents a compromise on the part of the Levellers. Only in the Second Agreement  do  we  find  wage-earners specifically excluded from the franchise. As this document was the result of bargaining between the Levellers and their opponents, the exclusion of those who received ‘wages from a particular person’ may not have been proposed by the Levellers. It may rather represent a reduction of a more extreme position by their opponents, i.e. that all wage-earners were to be excluded. In itself the distinction made between ‘servants’ and ‘wage-earners’ is evidence that the two were thought of as separate groups.

At best, it would  seen that Macpherson’s definition is too broad, and that the Levellers were thinking in terns of personal servants, employees living in the master’s house and apprentices. If this was so, then the disenfranchisement of the groups would have been, for the most part, temporary. Apprentices would become journeymen and eventually masters (or  at least the Levellers wished to create a situation where this could happen). Of the two other groups, there is evidence that many were below voting age,  and their period of employment relatively short. At Ealing in 1599, 60 per cent of the population aged 15 – 19) were servants. At Claworth in 1676, there were 67 servants of whom only one remained by 1638, and at Cogenhoe again only one out of total of 31 in 1618 was still employed in 1628.6 The most likely explanation for this apparent mobility of labour is that when a man married he set up his own household.

If we then consider evidence suggesting that to be head of household was the mark of a man capable of voting, the significance of this is obvious. Thomas Cartwright  wrote ‘All men understand that where the election is most freest and most general, yet only they have to do which  are head of families’, and, John Eliot in his ‘Christian Commonwealth’ (1659) ‘servants, or sons living with their parents are in the condition of servants…. may not explicitly , politically, personally, choose public  rulers…. But, if they marry or live in the state of allowed public freedmen, then are they capable of the choice of their public rulers’7. If we can accept such views as representative, then the disenfranchisement of  servants in our restricted sense becomes, for at least a great part of then, a temporary affair.

The  Leveller  position on almstakers  is, rather easier to resolve. Until the Second Agreement, only  beggars were mentioned. The Putney resolution, ‘The Grande Designe’ (John Harris) and the ‘Petition of January’ 1648, used the terms ‘beggars’ rather than ‘almstakers’. This in itself might not be significant, for it is conceivable that ‘beggar’ was a term which included persons who begged casually, probably in an  itinerant fashion, and men who were forced to seek parish relief temporarily or permanently.  However, there are indications that this was not so. William Petty alone of the Levellers at Putney spoke of ‘those that  receive alms’. That he used this phrase may be accounted for by the fact that Cromwell had just  posed a question in a fashion which prompted such an answer. In any event, Petty qualified his statement by explaining that he meant ‘those that receive alms from door to door’, surely not a reference to those who received official parish relief.

Cromwell himself, according to John Say’s parliamentary diary, informed the Commons on 23rd November 1647, that the agitators ‘would exclude children and servants, Yet such as received alms they insisted on as persons competent for electors’. It could be argued that Cromwell was slandering them in the hope of discrediting the Levellers, yet in that case why not go further and say they would include servants as well?

We know also of the concern the Levellers showed for those impoverished by the war. It would seem  most unlikely that they would willingly have excluded such persons simply because they were forced to take alms.  Nor do they appear to have regarded almstakers in general as irresponsible. One of the demands of the January Petition of 1643 was that ‘the poor be enabled to choose their trustees’.

The inclusion of ‘almstakers’ alone, even if we are mistaken about ‘servants’, would have increased the electorate considerably. According to Macpherson, in 1643 there were 309,700 ‘almstakers’ and only 9,000 ‘beggars,’9 If we are correct in our interpretation of the term ‘servant’ then a position approaching universal manhood suffrage is in view. (Statistics for ‘servants’ as we understand the term present problems, but Peter Laslett 10 has estimated that 10-15 per cent would fall into this category,  many of whom would be only temporarily disenfranchised or under age,)

There is one further point to consider, namely the Levellers’ own conception of their society and what they wished it to be. Although supporters of property, their main concern was to protect the rights of the small man. For this protection they looked, as was the habit of mind then,  much to the past for answers and justifications and had constantly in their minds some  ideal of a Golden Age, If the master-servant relationship was giving way to that of employer-wage-earner, this was not obvious to them. The type of society which they desired was that of the  small independent man, and they believed that the  safeguards  they sought against monopoly and other  unwarranted interference with the individual  would  produce such a society, and thus the electorate, even if exclusions were made in their own time, would increase over the years. Whether this was  impracticable  or not, is neither here nor there in assessing their intentions,

 Notes

 1. K. Thomas, p. 71.

 2 A.L, ‘Morton , p.213.

 3. K. Thomas , p.72.

 4 Ibid, 3 ,71.

 5. D.H. Wolfe, p.403

 6 A.L. Morton, p,214.

 7 P. 72-73.

 8. D.H. Wolfe, p,82 ,

 9. Beware of making the same mistake as Thomas does

 by taking 1613 figures for 1543.

 l0. P. Laslett, The World We Have Lost.

CONCLUSION

There would appear to be three possible explanations of the Levellers’ attitude to the franchise. Firstly, that Macpherson is correct, namely that the Levellers were always in favour of a restricted franchise,  excluding servants and beggars. Secondly, that they  were from the first in favour of a full manhood franchise, but were forced to compromise when faced with political realities.  Thirdly, that the Levellers were not originally overly concerned with the franchise, or at least their ideas were not clear-cut, but came, through the trials of 1647-9, to a desire for full manhood suffrage but were then thwarted by political realities.

I suspect that the last comes closest to the truth. It is difficult to imagine most of those who followed the Levellers being content with anything less than full enfranchisement for themselves or for others like them. That being so the broad membership of the Leveller cause leads to the logical conclusion that a very wide franchise indeed must have been desired if not attained.  

Macpherson claims too much for his evidence. Firstly, the consistency which he attributes to the Levellers may, I think, be safely discounted. That some men of Levelling colour did think as Macpherson believes is most probably true, indeed almost certainly so, for it would be a strange party or group which did not contain differences of opinion on such a contentious issue.

Secondly, his broad definition of servants is dubious to say the least, particularly when we bear in mind the apparent  readiness of the Commons before 1640 to grant wider franchises than he claims for the Levellers, and the fact that on his definition many who voted previously would have  been excluded.

The position of the almstakers  is, I think, even  more clear cut, remembering that Petty spoke of ‘those that receive alms from door to door’, the use of  ’beggars’ until the Second Agreement , and the entry in John Bay’s diary (a piece of  evidence, incidentally , not available to Macpherson ).

Thirdly, the philosophy which he attributes to the Levellers has logical flaws when examined closely, and the system he constructs makes one wonder, with Peter  Laslett, whether Macpherson has not developed his theory before examining  his   evidence  and consequently  falls, albeit  unconsciously, into the mistake of attempting to sustain his theory by arguing a priori that all must thus be so. 

After the Restoration, democratic ideas did not gain serious political currency in England for more than a century. However, they found ready supporters abroad, most dramatically in the person of Thomas Paine, who although English made his name in the American Revolution. The received academic opinion on the Revolution is that it was the offspring of John Locke. In fact, it had at least as much in common with the ideas of the Levellers. The  Constitution is a balance between Locke and Paine, granting a large degree of popular involvement in politics , whilst tempering it with restrictions such as electoral colleges.

Why did the idea of democracy based on the active consent of all men arise in England rather than elsewhere? There were good reasons why it did. In the early modern period, England was an oddity amongst European states. Representative assemblies were commonplace in the mediaeval world. By 1600 all but a few had fallen to the growing power of rulers and either ceased to exist or had been emasculated to the point of insignificance. In England alone Parliament had increased  its power and status in the 16th century. Not only that, but elections were held to appoint MPs. The membership of most European assemblies was, like the House of Lords, dependent on social position.

There was also a long tradition of liberty in England. In the minds of the Levellers these went back to long before Magna Carta. They also, as mentioned in the introduction, saw this tradition as having been stifled by the Normans and their continental successors. These were and are powerful engines for action.

England was also odd in other ways. Serfdom had withered away early. Enclosure had driven men off the land and into the towns. The dissolution of the monasteries had both removed the incubus of Rome and redistributed land and property, much of which ended up in the hands of “new men”. The population had risen dramatically since 1500 and high inflation (by pre-modern standards) had caused considerable social dislocation. At the same time, the wealth of the country had grown and the foundations laid for the commercial revolution which was to lay the foundation for the industrial revolution. Stuart society was a world on the physical, economic and intellectual move and waiting to move faster if the right engine appeared. The Civil War was the right transporter.

 Notes

 1. Market Society and Political Theory

  Bibliography

 C. B. Macpherson The theory of possessive individualism

 Primary Sources

 D.H. Wolfe, Leveller Manifestoes of the Puritan

 Revolution.

 A,S.P. Woodhouse, Puritanism and Liberty.

 W. Hall, Tracts on Liberty in the Puritan evolution, Vol. III.

 Secondary Sources

  C.B. Macpherson, The Political Theory of Possessive Individualism

 K. Thomas, The Levellers and the Franchise (Chapter in the Interregnum The Quest for Settlement, Ed. G.E. Aylmer).

A.L. Morton, Leveller Democracy (In he world of the Rantors).

J.C. Davis, The Levellers ad Democracy : P. & P.X1 1968.

R. Howell and D. Brewster Reconsidering the Levellers, P. & P, 1970.

J.H. Plumb, The Growth of the electorate 1600-1715, P. & P. 1969

V.F. Snow, Parliamentary Reapportionment Proposals in The Puritan Revolution, E.H.R. 1959.

G.F. Aylmer, Gentlemen Levellers, P, & P. 1970.

P. Laslett, The World We Have Lost.

P. Laslett, Market Society and Political Theory, H.J. VII (1964).

J. Frank – The Levellers.

N.H, Brailsford – The Levellers and the English Revolution.

M.A. Gibb – John Lilburne The Leveller.

How Thatcher became the useful idiot of the education progressives

When Margaret Thatcher came to power many thought she would attempt to undo the damage of the comprehensive experiment and progressive methods, damage which was already visible. In her 11 years in power she not only failed to repair the damage, but she  made things worse through  her attempts to translate her free market ideology into education.

The Thatcher Governments neither reinstituted the grammar schools (or an equivalent) nor drove out the anti-examination, anti-competitive ethos of the teaching profession.  Instead,  Margaret Thatcher contented herself with introducing  Thatcherite ideas such as a national curriculum and league tables and by  encouraging parents and pupils (and later university students) to  think of themselves as consumers while leaving things much as they were in terms of teaching methods, mentality and administrative structure. 

This  bizarre marriage of the prevailing progressive ideology  with Thatcherite ideals would have been unsuccessful at the best of times because the two were simply incompatible.  But the Thatcherite part of the equation was in practice more or less nullified as a means to raise standards.  Over  the 18 years of the Thatcher and Major  governments,  the educational establishment persuaded the Tories that not only should the comprehensive settlement be left unchanged, but that the O Level/CSE exams should be scrapped in favour of GCSE, that more and more coursework should be introduced into school exam marks, that the national curriculum tests should move from simple evaluations of the three “Rs” and a few other subjects to  overblown and time consuming events, that polytechnics should become universities  and that the numbers in higher education should rise to previously undreamt of levels.

Thatcherism  extended more dramatically  into  higher  education. University grants were first allowed to wither on the vine through inadequate uprating and then abolished. In their place came student loans to be repaid after graduation. The post-war ideal of free higher  education finally died with the introduction of tuition fees by in the 1990s.  Students suddenly found themselves faced with debts of £10,000 or more on graduation with future students living under the threat of ever rising fees.

When people pay for something they become resentful if they feel that they do not get what they pay for. In the case of university students they object to not merely failing their degree entirely, but even to getting a poor degree. That any failure to gain a good degree is largely due to themselves is lost in the resentment that something has been  paid for which has not been delivered.  Of course,  the undergraduate is not paying the full cost of their tuition  and they receive a loan on very favourable non-commercial terms.  But because they do end up with a hefty debt at the end of their degree, that makes any perceived academic failure more poignant that it was in the days of grants and no tuition fees.

Although the  relationship between the teacher and the taught  was changed by tuition fees and loans, that in itself would not have been too damaging for university standards. In the end  a disgruntled student can do little unless they have money to go to law, which few do. Nor, in all probability,  would the courts be eager to get involved in disturbing the ideal of academic freedom.  What was damaging was the ending in 1988  of university  funding  by block grants  from a central  awarding authority, the University Grants Committee (UGC). The UGC was replaced by the Universities Funding Council (UFC) and block  grants were replaced by state money primarily attached to students (quality of teaching and research were also taken into account). The more students, the more income.  Universities were immediately changed from places which awarded degrees as they chose to award them based on academic performance to institutions which were anxious to “sell” their wares to students.  To do this they needed to present themselves as a university which not only failed few people but awarded most students “good” degrees.  The upshot was that the proportion of First Class and Upper Second degrees rose inexorably until today  around two thirds of students in the UK receive one or other of them and one third receive Lower Seconds or worse.  (Forty years ago  the proportions  were roughly reversed with a third receiving Firsts and Upper Seconds and two thirds Lower Seconds or worse.) 

The decline of the universities was hastened by the vast  and unprecedented expansion of those in higher education:

“The number of students at university had risen from 321,000   in the early 1960s to 671,000 in 1979. By 1996 it was headed   for 1.5 million, far in excess of the target of 560,000   places set by Robbins thirty years earlier. At the Labour   Party Conference in September 1997, Tony Blair promised   another 500,000 places at university by 2002.” Dominic Hobson The National Wealth p 325.

The increase in numbers was not matched with an increase in funding. The consequence was a substantial increase in  the student/teacher ratio, less tutorial and lecture time and a tendency to favour cheaper arts and social science courses over expensive science degrees.  In addition, although staff did not increase in line with student numbers, they did rise and competition for the best staff increased, with the inevitable consequence that the universities at the bottom of the pile – almost exclusively the polytechnics which became universities in 1992 – became institutions which should be described as universities only when the word is placed in inverted commas, with drop out rates previously unheard of in England.

The consequences of the Thatcher period were, as in so many areas, the very reverse of what she supposedly stood for. Just as the European Common Market undermined British sovereignty more than any other single treaty EU treaty agreement rather than achieving Thatcher’s intended aim of strengthening Britain’s position within the EU, so her education reforms promoted the ideas of those who were supposedly her sworn ideological enemies, the progressives. Thatcher became their useful idiot.

English education and the great grade inflation fraud

English education has suffered greatly from its politicisation in the liberal internationalist interest, but even more fundamental damage was done by progressive teaching methods which failed to provide many children with an adequate grasp the three ‘Rs’ (and left a depressing number either completely  illiterate or what is coyly called “functionally illiterate”, while  most are unable to do simple arithmetic and lack any sense of number or proportion,  so that they have no idea whether the sums they poked into their calculators produced answers which were correct.

The most obvious consequence of the gradual decline in educational standards  was an erosion in exam quality.  At first it was small things. Practical exams for science O Levels were dropped. Then came multiple choice questions. The curricula in all subjects  shrank.  New,  less academic subjects such as media studies found their  way into the exam system and elbowed the academic aside. Eventually  came the ultimate corruption of the exam system with the introduction of continuous assessment.  With  the fall in school standards, the  universities and polytechnics inevitably had to drop their standards. 

The  corruption of exam standards was further driven by a desire to expand the numbers of children passing school exams and the numbers going on to Higher Education.  To this end O Levels and the old CSE exams for less able pupils were abolished in the 1980s  and replaced with the General Certificate of Education (GCSE). Around the same time a decision was made to vastly increase the numbers of students in Higher Education. To make this policy more attractive to would-be students, the polytechnics were renamed universities in 1992, with the consequence that more than 100 institutions with that title were suddenly competing for students, with as we shall see later, evil effects.

The consequence of having a single exam (GCSE) for all 16 year olds was predictable: to prevent embarrassing numbers of failures, the standard of the new exam had to be reduced below that of the already much less demanding O Levels of the 1980s (even so, in 2005 around 30 per cent of children fail to gain five GCSEs at C grade or higher.) The upshot was that the GCSE candidates either left school at 16  lacking even  the rudiments of education needed to fill run-of-the-mill jobs – many are functionally illiterate and even more lack basic numeracy –   or entered A Level courses woefully under-prepared, especially in subjects such as maths.  A Levels and degree courses were again, of necessity, reduced in standard to adapt to pupils and students who were substantially under-prepared compared with those arriving under the pre-GCSE examination regime.

At the same time as standards were eroding, the Tories introduced in the 1980s the madness of league tables and targets.  The consequence of these – not just in education but generally – is to distract from the actual purpose of what an organisation is supposed to do and to promote dishonesty in the pursuit of attaining the targets and showing well in league tables. 

The league tables provoked even more tampering with the academic standards of school exams as examination boards competed with one another to produce the “best” results, that is, ever higher pass rates and grades and schools chose the examination board most likely to give them ostensible examination success.

The  response of both politicians and educationalists  to the inexorable rise in GCSE and A Level results since GCSE was introduced has been to hail them as evidence that educational standards are continually rising. Such claims have the same relationship to reality as Soviet figures for the turnip harvest or tractor production.  All that has happened is that both the difficulty of exams and the severity of marking has been reduced.  In 2004 an A Grade in GCSE Maths  from Edexcel, one of the largest exam boards, could be gained with 45 per cent (Daily Telegraph 18 9 2004), while a “B” grade at one Board in 2004 (OCR)  could be a obtained with a mere 17 per cent (Sunday Telegraph 16 1 2005).  (When challenged about lowered grade marks, those setting the exams claim that the questions are becoming  more difficult.)  Course work, which counts towards the overall exam mark,  is reported as being either routinely plagiarised from the Web or showing other evidence of being  other than the pupil’s unaided work. 

In addition to the lowering of exam marks and the fraud of continuous assessment, school exams have begun to shift from final tests  to  modular exams which are taken throughout the course. Hence, pupils on such courses never take an exam which tests them on their entire course. 

Of course, all this change to school exams, combined with the introduction of the national curriculum tests,  creates a great deal of extra work for teachers and distracts them from the actual task of teaching – pupils are tested at 7, 11, 14, 16, 17 and 18.  It has also spawned a truly monstrous examination bureaucracy,  which according to a recent report from the Qualifications and Curriculum Authority (a state body) costs £610 million per year (Daily Telegraph 14 2 2005) and has left the country desperately scrabbling around for  examiners.

The  frequent complaints of university teachers about the inadequacy of the students coming to them  and the even more  vociferous  complaints of employers about applicants who lack competence in even the three “Rs” are pretty substantial straws in the wind suggesting a general educational failure. My own direct experience of youngsters all too often bears out such complaints –  I find especially depressing recent graduates with good degrees from top universities who are  bizarrely ignorant of their degree subjects and poorly equipped to research or analyse.

The universities also joined in the grade inflation caucus race.  I went to University in the late sixties. In those days – when less than 10% of UK school-leavers went to university – Oxford and Cambridge awarded around 40%  of undergraduates the top two degree classifications . The newer universities were much stingier, many awarding only  4-5% of firsts and 30% of upper seconds.  They did this to establish their credibility.  Now it is common for universities to award  firsts to more than 15% of undergraduates and firsts and  upper seconds to two thirds of those who graduate.  A recent (I Jan 2011) Sunday  Telegraph  investigation discovered “The universities awarding the highest proportion of firsts or 2:1s last year were Exeter, where 82 per cent of graduates received the top degrees compared with just 29 per cent in 1970, and St Andrews – Scotland’s oldest university, where Prince William met fiancée Kate Middleton – where the figure was also 82 per cent compared with just 25 per cent in 1970.

“Imperial College London and Warwick both granted 80 per cent firsts or 2:1s last year, compared with 49 per cent and 39 per cent respectively in 1970.  At Bath University the figure was 76 per cent last year compared with just 35 per cent in 1970. “http://www.telegraph.co.uk/education/universityeducation/8235115/Dumbing-down-of-university-grades-revealed.html

There was some grade inflation before the late eighties but it was small compared with what has happened since. Until, the late eighties universities received their funding in the form of a block grant from a government body called the Universities Grants Committee ((UGC) This meant there was no temptation to inflate degree awards because the money did not follow the individual student. The UGC was scrapped in 1989 and the money attached to each individual student. This changed the relationship between  the university and student from being one where the student was seen as just that to one where the student became primarily a bringer of money. This relationship changed again with  first the abolition of grants and then the introduction of fees which made placed the student in the position of customer.

Anecdotes are always tricky as evidence,  so let us consider an objective fact which explains why widespread educational incompetence is inevitable in the circumstances which have been created.  IQ  is normally distributed within a population, that is it forms a Bell Curve with most people clustering in the middle of the curve and a few people at the extremes of the curve. Such a distribution means that the proportion of the population with IQs substantially above the average is quite small – approximately 25 per cent of the UK population have IQs of 110 or more.  Now, it is true that IQ as a measure of academic success is not infallible, not least because motivation is necessary as well as intellect.  But what is true is that a decent IQ is necessary for  academic success. Put another way, someone with an IQ of 150 may or may not take a First in maths: someone with an IQ of 90 never will.

The way IQ is distributed means that the ideal of an exam suited to everyone (GCSE) is a literal nonsense, because that which would test the brightest would be beyond the large majority and even that which the majority could cope with would be beyond those in the lower part of the ability range. The grades awarded for GCSE bear this out.  The  large numbers of those getting the top marks mean that the exam is too easy for the brightest, while the 30 per cent or so of school-leavers who cannot attain 5 passes at C grade or better tell you it is too difficult for the lower part of the academic ability continuum. 

 A similar problem of fitting exams to a very wide ability range has affected universities. Tony Blair set a target of 50 per cent of either school-leavers or people under the age of 28 (the target seems to move) to be in Higher Education – at the beginning of  2005 the percentage is over 40 per cent. Blair’s target meant that many of those at university will have mediocre IQs. 

Let us  assume for the sake of simplicity  that 50 per cent of school-leavers is the target rather than 50 per cent of those under 28. There are only around 25 per cent of people with IQs of 110 or higher in any age group. If every one of those 25 per cent went to university (50 per cent of those scheduled to go to university if the Blair target is met) it would still leave the other half of those going to university  to be found from those with IQs of less than 109. Hence, with 50 per cent of school-leavers at university,  at least half the  people taking degrees would have, as a matter of necessity,  moderate IQs.  In fact, the position is worse than that,  because significant numbers of those with IQs substantially above average will not go  to university.  That means even more than 50 per cent of students would have moderate IQs. Trying to set degree courses suitable for people with,  say,  IQs  ranging  from 90-160 cannot be a  practical proposition.

The coalition government has not committed themselves to Blair’s 50% target but neither have they said it will not the reached or even exceeded, the Government line being anyone who wants to go to universitty should go.

The upshot of all this is that the better  universities can no longer trust an A at A Level to be a true reflection of excellence because so many people are awarded As and a new A* grade has been introduced in the hope that it will distinguish outstanding candidates.  However, this is unlikely to be a long-term solution as it is a sound bet that A* will be awarded in ever greater numbers.

English education, immigration and political correctness

What allowed progressive education to go from being a primarily a method and philosophy of teaching to a potent political ideology was mass immigration.  Originally the progressive view of immigrants was that they must be assimilated into English society.  When it became clear by the mid-seventies that assimilation was not going to work, progressive educationalists rapidly switched to the doctrine which became  multiculturalism.  By the early eighties assimilation was a dirty word in educational circles.  The educationalists were followed by the politicians.

Multiculturalism was embraced as a mainstream political ideal in the late 1970s because politicians did not know what to do about mass coloured  immigration and its consequences. Both Labour and the Conservatives initially promoted the French solution to immigration – make them black and brown Britons. But by the end of the seventies integration  was deemed by our political elite to be a failure at best and oppression at worst. Multiculturalism was its successor. Once it became the new official doctrine, the many eager Anglophobic and internationalist hands in English education and the mass media were free to give reign to their natural instincts.

The idea behind multiculturalism is that it squares the immigration circle of  unassimilable immigrants and a resentful native mass by saying everyone may live in their own cultural bubble. In practice, this required the suppression of British interests and the silencing of British dissidents  on one side and the promotion of minority cultures  and the privileging of the immigrant minorities on the other.

 English history  and culture ceased to be taught in schools in any meaningful way. Where  it was part of the curriculum, it was the subject of ever increasing denigration. Politicians of all parties gradually became more and more reluctant to speak out for the interests of the native Briton. Laws were passed – most notably the Race Relations Act of 1976 and the Public Order Act of 1986 – potentially making it an offence to tell the unvarnished truth about race and  immigration or make any telling criticism of any minority ethnic group.

As the new elite doctrine of multiculturalism became established, it became necessary not only for the elite themselves to espouse it but anyone who worked for the elite. Any public servant, any member of the media, any senior businessman, an professional person, was brought within the net. This produced the situation we have today whereby no honest speaking about any subject within the pc ambit is allowed in public without the person being shouted down and in all probability becoming either a non-person or forced to make a public “confession” reminiscent of those during the Cultural Revolution.

Most importantly,  multiculturalism  allowed the progressives to portray Englishness as just one competing culture amongst many, all of which were equally “valid”.  This had two primary implications: other cultures should be given equal consideration within the curriculum and any promotion of one culture over another was illegitimate. In fact, these  implications were never followed through.  Practicality meant that the multiplicity of cultures in England could not all have equal billing,  while the promotion English culture was deemed to be “oppressive” both because they are the dominant “ethnic” group in England and because of their “evil” imperial, slave-trading past. The educationalists’ cut the Gordian knot by treating the inclusion  of items of any culture other than English within the school curriculum as a “good”, while insisting that references to England and her people should always be derogatory and guilt inducing.

The better part of a quarter of century of this policy has resulted in English  education system being successfully subverted.  English cultural content has been marvellously diluted  and  denigration of the English is routine bar one thing: the liberal bigot invariably lauds the toleration of the English towards immigrants, a claim at odds both with historical reality and the liberal’s general claim that England is a peculiarly wicked and undeserving place.

 English education  has officially become not a way of enlarging the mind and opening up intellectual doors, but merely a means to produce  “good” politically correct citizens and  workers equipped for  the modern jobs market.  The last Labour Government has decreed that pupils are no longer to be pupils but “learners”.  The desired ends for these “learners”  are “Be healthy; stay safe; enjoy and achieve; make a positive contribution; and achieve economic well being.”  (Daily Telegraph 19 2 2005). This is a programme couched in language remarkably similar to those of totalitarian regimes such as Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union. 

The  Blair Government  introduced citizenship lessons in schools – I will leave readers to guess what makes a good citizen in the Blairite mind – and played with the idea of  introducing  a citizenship ceremony for all 18-year-olds. The present coalition shows no sign of radically altering matters because they are always trying to do two mutually exclusive things at the same time: get rid of some of the more outlandish examples of political correctnmess whilst appearing to be very politically correct. The consequence is little movement as the one impulse tends to cancel out the other.

English education and the triumph of the progressives

By the time the second Wilson government was elected in 1974, progressive education had gone a fair way to obtaining the stranglehold it  has today and to developing from an educational theory into a political doctrine.

Progressive or child-centred educational theories have a long history. The idea that the child should not be actively, (and to the progressive mind  oppressively)  educated by adults but be  provided with the opportunity to learn as its nature drives it to learn, is not in itself an ignoble idea and people throughout history have expressed concern about the stultifying of children through too strict a regime. However,  all ideas, once they harden into an ideology have a nasty habit of being driven to extremes,  becoming both fundamentally unreasonable and impracticable. Rousseau made what we now called child-centred education unreasonable in the 18th century by taking it to the extremes of believing that children would “naturally” find their true  nature  and intellectual level if  placed in  the  right circumstances, that it was European society  that corrupted the individual – from this mentality the Romantic fantasy of the noble savage emerged.  It is as good an example of an intellectual construction  unrelated to reality as one could find.  That the vast majority of children do not respond positively to undirected education and a general lack of adult authority is clear to anyone who has had anything to do with children, let alone having been responsible for their formal education, a process, incidentally,  which is primarily concerned with teaching children things they would not naturally learn or even come into contact with if left to their own devices.

 Rousseau’s  intellectual  descendents  followed  consciously  or unconsciously in his  mistaken wake.  Those  in England in the  nineteen sixties and seventies were both extreme in their progressive beliefs and politically motivated. They not only  believed that children should not be actively instructed,  but also that the power relationship between  teachers and pupils should become one  of equality. (This idea  has just reached its reductio ad absurdum with Ofsted introducing various questionnaires to be completed by  pupils  at primary schools,  secondary schools and sixth form colleges. The  pupils  will  assess their schools’  performance  through  these questionnaires, which will only be seen by Ofsted – Daily Telegraph 19 2 2005)

Whole class teaching with the teacher at the front of the class gradually gave way to groups of children clustered around tables and enjoying only sporadic contact with their teacher.  Children hearing their teachers spouting progressive mantras about  non-oppressive teaching and the evil of exams, responded in an absolutely predictable way: they became ill-disciplined and utterly disinclined to learn.  These  traits were reinforced by the growing failure  of  the comprehensive system to even equip many of them with the basic tools to learn: literacy and numeracy and the general lack of intellectual challenge  with which they were faced.  A child who has spent his or her  years before the age of 14 (when the 16-year-old school exam courses begin) being asked to do nothing demanding is inevitably going to be daunted if they are suddenly faced with a Shakespeare  text or Newton’s laws of motion.

This  lack of intellectual challenge arose because  educational progressives saw  it as their duty to socially engineer class differences out of society. Academically,  this desire translated itself into  a tendency towards ensuring a  general mediocrity of performance throughout the comprehensive schools  rather than an attempt to raise the academic horizons of children from poor  homes. Not only were exams frowned upon but competition of any sort was deemed to be harmful. Children were, the progressives said, damaged by failure and consequently opportunities for demonstrable failure must  be removed. 

When  it came to the content of the academic curricula,  the progressives attacked on two fronts. One was what might be  broadly called the “I hate everything about England” policy, which overtly despised and denigrated everything that England had ever done or was.  The other was to promote social egalitarianism.  Nowhere was this seen more perniciously than in the teaching of history.  Complaints about an over concentration on “Kings and Queens” history had long existed, but no one in the mainstream academic world seriously suggested that such history was unimportant. Now it was to be considered worthless because it was not “relevant” to the lives of the pupils.  Facts and chronology were replaced by “historical empathy”  and investigative skills. Where once pupils would have learnt of Henry V, Wellington and the Great Reform Bill, they now were asked to imagine that they were a peasant in 14th Century England or an African slave on a slave ship, going to market in the New World.  The results of such “empathy” were  not judged in relation to the historical record, but as exercises in their own right. Whatever this is, it is not historical understanding.

Other disciplines were contaminated by the same mentality. A  subject was judged by its “relevance” to the pupil or the difficulty theaverage pupil had in mastering it.  Shakespeare was deemed too difficult and remote for workingclass children and  traditional maths was largely replaced by modern maths”, which instead of teaching children how to complete a calculation or demonstrate a theorem, attempted, with precious little success, to teach esoterica such as Set theory and the theory of numbers. 

When teaching is largely removed from facts, the assessment of the work of those taught becomes nothing more than the opinion  of the teacher. This inevitably resulted in the prejudices of the teacher being reflected in their pupils work and the teacher’s  marking. In 2005 this means political correctness wins the day. History teaching, and the teaching of other subjects such as geography which can be given a PC colouring, has become little better than propaganda. This would be unfortunate if the propaganda promoted English history and culture uncritically. But to have anti-English propaganda in English schools and universities is positively suicidal. That it is state policy is barely credible.

The extent to which the state has embraced the politically correct, anti-British line is illustrated by this letter to the Daily Telegraph  from  Chris  McGovern the director of the  History  Curriculum Association, which campaigns against the failure to teach British history fairly or comprehensively:

  SIR–The landmarks of British history have become optional parts of the national curriculum (report Sept. 10). They  appear only as italicised examples of what is permissible to teach.

 However, this permission is offered in guarded terms. A  guidance letter already sent to every school in the country  states:  “… we would also like to emphasise that it  is  very much up to individual schools to determine whether or  not to use the italicised examples”. However, there is no  such equivocation about teaching history through a host of  politically correct social themes. Failure to filter history  through such perspectives as gender, race, agent and cultural  diversity will be in breach of the law. (Daily Telegraph 13 9 1999).

Skills more important than facts

 Alongside this process of de-factualisation grew the pernicious idea that the learning of “skills” was more important than knowledge.  This resulted in the absurdity of children being taught how to “research” a topic rather than being taught a subject. The idea that one can have any understanding of a subject without a proper grasp of its  content is best described as bonkers. Anyone who has ever been asked to do anything of any complexity with which they are unfamiliar will know from painful experience how difficult it is to suddenly master the knowledge needed to perform  the task – attempting to assemble flat-pack furniture from the instructions is a good way of learning this sad fact. 

There is also the growing obsession with technology as a teaching medium. There is the Daily Telegraph education editor, John Clare writing on 26 1 2005 under the title “Is learning a thing of the past?

 Something very odd is happening in secondary schools. The   focus of teaching is switching from imparting knowledge to   preparing pupils for employment  – in, ironically, the   “knowledge economy”. The change, unannounced and undiscussed,   is being brought about through the wholesale introduction of   computer technology….

 According to the Qualifications and Curriculum Authority]  Thirteen-year-olds, instead of learning about Henry VIII,  should search the internet for images of the king – “old,  young, fat,  thin” – and use these to “produce leaflets  presenting different  views of him”. Fourteen-year-olds,  instead of learning about the First World War, should  “produce presentations to sell a history trip to  the  battlefields in northern France, tailoring the content and  form to the perceived needs of their audience”.

 Teaching history, in other words, is secondary. The point is  to get pupils searching the internet, selecting websites,  learning  about word-processing, data collection, desktop  publishing and making PowerPoint presentations of their  conclusions. The effect of this, intended or otherwise, is to rob English children of any meaningful knowledge of their history.

English education: the roots of its politicisation

When I left school in the mid-sixties the Empire was effectively finished – the final nail in the coffin of imperial feeling was banged in by our entry into the EU in 1972,  which alienated the  white dominions – and a new spirit of anti-Establishment feeling was beginning to erode school discipline. But progressive ideals had not yet taken hold the  educational establishment and the comprehensive disaster was only in its infancy. The school leaving exams, the O and A Levels, were a real test of competence in both their subjects and of  the literacy and numeracy of candidates. To take but one example of the difference between then and now: even O Level science exams had, for 16-year-olds, demanding practicals as well as written papers. 

By the mid seventies the grammar schools had been reduced to a rump of a few hundred. Ironically, most of those which had converted to  comprehensive schools or which had chosen to become private schools to preserve their status,  had been forced to change by a supposedly conservative government, that of Ted Heath, whose education minister was  Margaret  Thatcher.  The  failure  of  Heath  to  stop comprehensivisation  was a harbinger of what was to happen under the future Conservative governments of Thatcher and Major.

Comprehensivisation

The comprehensive ideal  is not innately wrong.  Children of very widely differing abilities can be successfully taught  together. Traditionally, the greatest public schools  in England have been  comprehensives of a sort.  They took boys who varied from the exceptionally bright to the stonewall stupid and managed largely  to successfully educate both groups and all those in between.  The very bright won scholarships to Oxbridge, while the stonewall stupid  at least left school functionally literate.

But these schools were hopeless models for a  state comprehensive system. They drew almost all of their pupils from the middle and upper classes  and the resources available to the schools from fees and endowments vastly outstripped any that could ever be available to state funded schools. The social class of the pupils meant that the pupils had expectations of being in the higher reaches of society when they entered adult life and parents who actively wanted and expected their children to be educated. To these advantages were added  greatly  superior financial resources which permitted the recruitment of first rate staff, small classes and personal tuition.

A general comprehensive system lacks the advantages of a great public school.  Most of the schools will be dominated by the children of the working class simply because they are by far the most numerous.  That would be true even if all private schools were abolished and “bussing” of middle and upper class children was enforced to ensure that schools were socially mixed.

Inevitably the adult expectations of working class children tend to be lower than those of the middle and upper classes. Their parents are generally less supportive of the idea of education. A significant minority are actively hostile to their children becoming better educated than they are because it divorces the children from their workingclass roots.  Few will be able to provide active academic  assistance to their children.  Those facts alone make mixed ability teaching difficult. Add in the much smaller financial resources available to state schools – which expresses itself in larger classes, a narrower curriculum and, on average,  less able and  less  well motivated staff  – and you have a recipe for low educational attainment. In such schools the bright and academically interested  pupils often become isolated, under-challenged intellectually  and frequently bullied, while the duller,  non-academic majority  are allowed to plough an educational furrow,  which stretches from  academic inadequacy to an outright failure of education. 

In practice comprehensivisation was much worse than that.  Bussing was not enforced.  The better off continued to send their children to fee-paying  schools – today approximately 7 per cent  of  our schoolchildren are privately educated, a higher proportion than in the 1960s when many middleclass parents were happy to send their children to state grammar schools. (It is a grand irony that comprehensivisation rescued the public schools,  many of which were  struggling to maintain numbers by 1965).

Social segregation by the use of fee-paying schools was amplified both by the natural segregation of social classes into geographical areas – in the absence of enforced “bussing” a middle class suburb will have a local school which is largely filled with middleclass children – and by the widespread practice of middle class parents moving to areas where good state schools were available. The consequence has been a state school system which is heavily segregated by class, with the schools dominated by the working class tending to be the lowest achieving.

The subversion of the social mixing part of the comprehensive ideal was further  complicated by mass immigration. This introduced not only racial and ethnic conflict into schools, a toxic enough disruptive element in itself, but also created grave practical problems  because so many of the immigrant children did not have a competence in English.  The  official promotion of multiculturalism and  its concomitant  idea  that any member of an  ethnic  minority  is  automatically a victim of white society  complicated the position further, not least in the area of discipline. Ethnic minorities soon realised  that in the context of an  official  sponsorship  of “victimhood”  they could get away with more and more. Native English  children seeing this, naturally enough, also became more inclined to  misbehave. 

Because immigrants settled almost entirely in large towns and cities, these problems were and are confined almost exclusively to schools where the white pupils were workingclass, who found  their already inferior opportunities for education further reduced. Worse,  immigration was the final lever which allowed progressive education to not only gain absolute ascendency in the English state  educational system, but to transform the progressive ideal into an overt political ideology, the ideology we know today as political correctness.

English education in saner times

I was born in 1947. Never, perhaps, has England (and Britain) been more of a coherent community.  The dramatic recent experience of the Second World War  filled the minds of everyone  and that  shared experience  bound together even more tightly  a very racially and culturally homogenous country.  It was rare to see a black or brown face even in London, and any suggestion that someone from a racial or cultural minority should do anything but  their best to assimilate into English culture would have been generally thought to touch the confines of lunacy. It was a very English, very British world. 

It was a time when Britain made most of the manufactured goods that it consumed, including its own cars, aircraft, ships, and it would have been thought extraordinary for a British Government to fail to protect British industry.  Great industrial names such as Austin (cars) and  Fry’s (chocolate) were not only English-owned and English made but leaders in the English market.  The shops which people used were generally owned by the English and more often than not family enterprises.  Every day an inhabitant of England  was reminded that  they were members of an advanced technological society which could make or grow what it wanted and that most of what they consumed was made in England (or at least Britain) or came from the Empire. 

The idea of Empire was still important – just. The fifties were the very last moment when an English boy could grow up with an  imperial consciousness as part of everyday life. There was no assumption that the Empire would collapse. India might have gone in 1947, but the assumption amongst both the general population and the political elite was that Britain would have to bear “the white man’s burden”  for many  a long year yet.  That will seem extraordinary to the point of fantasy now, but  it is true. In the forties and fifties  the Foreign and Colonial Office continued to  recruit and train young men for careers  as imperial servants such as District Officers and white  emigration from Britain to places such as Kenya and Rhodesia was officially encouraged. 

Against this background English schools taught as a matter of course a curriculum that extolled English and British values, history and culture.  History for the English child was British and imperial history first with  European history a poor second. Geography was concerned primarily with the physical and demographic demography of Britain.  English literature concentrated on the classic English texts from Chaucer through to Trollope.

But it was not simply English history and culture which was imparted. Whole class teaching was the norm with the teacher firmly in charge. Children were expected to acquire the factual knowledge of a subject as well as its process. Because discipline was not generally a problem, schools were primarily institutions to teach people rather than being the child-minding depots we all too often see today.  There is a good case for saying that the general standard of English education was never higher than in the quarter century between 1945 and 1970. This was not only because of the good overall educational standard, but because  all pupils, unlike the pre-war system, now got a secondary education as of right.

That is not to say everything in the post-war educational garden was lovely.  Before comprehensive education began under the first  Wilson Government,  English state education was divided between grammar schools, secondary moderns and a small number of technical schools – the last were intended as training grounds for artisans, to use an old fashioned word.  The consequence was to lower, irrevocably in most instances,  the social horizons and aspirations of those who did not  pass the 11-plus and go to grammar schools, because it was very difficult to move to a grammar school after the age of 11.  It also created a sense of inferiority and resentment amongst many 11-plus failures.

Despite these shortcomings,  the system was unreservedly to be preferred to what we have today. The grammar schools not only produced a  genuinely educated class, but provided  an escape  route  to something better for clever children from even the poorest backgrounds.  That opportunity grew with the significant expansion of university and polytechnic places in the fifties and sixties. In 1950 approximately  2 per cent of English school-leavers went on to higher education: by 1970, following the implementation of the Robbins Report (1963), the figure was approximately  7 per cent (and this was the age of the post-war baby-boomer generation, so there were more pupils in the age group in 1970 than 1950).  Most tellingly, in the 1960s, before the destruction of the grammar schools,  workingclass children in higher education  formed a greater proportion of the whole student body than it does now – there are more workingclass students now, but that is simply a consequence of the vast increase in those in higher education to more than 40 per cent.

English state education – a project to culturally cleanse the English

Ask an English child of 2011 about the iconic dates of English history such as Hastings, Blenheim and Waterloo and your chances of getting a correct answer are very small. Quiz them on who was Alfred the Great  or ask them to describe the outcome of the Spanish Armada and the odds are that you will be met with blank stares. Pose a question relating to English geography such as the position of the Chilterns or the course of the Severn and a shrug of the shoulders is the likely outcome.  Mention a Shakespeare play or a Dickens novel and childish eyes are wont to roll. 

Sadly, the modern English child is more likely to be able to tell a questioner about the Muslim festival of Ramadan than relate the story of Easter. They will know more of the geography of Africa (if they know any geography at all) than of England. On the rare occasions when they are told about England’s history, it will only be in the context of the country’s “evil” past, with the Atlantic slave trade elevated to the status of the ultimate act of historical immorality and  the  Empire recounted as an unrelieved tale of the exploitation of native peoples.

The upshot is that we have several generations of English children who have commonly left school with next to no meaningful knowledge of their own history and higher culture. That applies not only to those who depart education with a basic school education at the age of 16, but even those who go on to university. Worse, their education is designed to leave them with, at best, a belief that they have nothing to be proud of because they are English, and,  at worst, that they should be thoroughly ashamed of the fact that they are English.

The conscious intent of the liberal elite is to create a belief amongst the English that they, of all peoples, are not worthy of a national identity. Most of the English do not actually believe this even at the intellectual level and  they still have a primal sense of being English  because  of Man’s innate tendency to associate with “the tribe”. But this is beside the point. By being denied  access to their history and culture, English children are left without a bedrock of conscious  cultural imprinting to build upon their natural and healthy communal instincts.  They are like children of good natural parts who have been denied schooling. 

Education, of course, is far more than academic study. It is about the general development of the child.  Modern psychological research consistently fingers the peer group as most potent influence on the development of a child, far more influential than the family.  Those who doubt this is might care to  reflect on the fact that children speak with the accent of their peer group not that of their parents.

The dominance of the peer group is vitally important because it means that children can potentially be manipulated en masse. If they do not take their view of the world from their parents – and children commonly reject their parents’ views – they have to take their view  from elsewhere. That leaves them vulnerable to elite propaganda, especially that pedalled by the mass media and schools. The important point here  is that parents as a class have many views, an elite ideology  has  one view. The danger is that the elite can succeed at least partially in forcing a single view of the world onto all or at least most children.

A peer group whose members have been properly socialised in their history and culture and who have been given a generally positive view of their society, will reinforce that view themselves. A group robbed of that knowledge and mentality will be less inclined – because they have less positive information and reinforcement about their “tribe”  –  to amplify what they glean from the adult world. They may build upon the negative propaganda ceaselessly fed to them by schools, by the media and by politicians and by the persistent promotion of other cultures as superior to their own. Most damagingly, they are in danger of being conditioned to believe that they, the native people of England, are but one ethnic group amongst many, that they have no special cultural claim within their own land.

If England is to survive as more than a geographical entity, it is essential that the young be imprinted with a knowledge of the  immense achievements of Britain in general and England in particular and a sense of what the English have been.

No nation can maintain itself if it does not have a profound sense of its worth. In a healthy society this sense of worth simply exists and children imbibe it unconsciously. Our society has been so corrupted by a  mistaken educational ideology and the liberal’s hatred of his own culture,  that a conscious programme of cultural imprinting  is necessary. If it is not done, how long will it be before English children express surprise when told they are speaking English and not American? The corrosion of English society can only be halted if pride of England and her achievements is instilled in the young.

The words of the younger Pitt in 1783 (following the disaster of the American War of Independence) seem peculiarly apt for our deracinated time:

We must recollect … what is we have at stake, what it is we have to contend for. It is for our property, it is for our liberty, it is for our independence, nay, for our existence as a nation; it is for our character, it is for our very name as Englishmen, it is for everything dear and valuable to man on this side of the grave.

That the tribal  sense of English identity is still immensely strong can be seen in the way the English take the opportunity to publicly  express their patriotism in the only regular way left to them – through their support for sporting teams. The English fans of all the major team sports are truly amazing in their dedication to their national teams. Go to any football game or Test match  involving England  played overseas and you will see a support unmatched by any other travelling supporters. See how a forest of St George’s Crosses sprout when a football world cup is on. Marvel at the reception given to the England Rugby team after they returned as world champions.  It is also noteworthy that in recent years the English have taken the opportunity to come out in ever increasing numbers for occasional national  events such as the Queen’s Jubilee and the Queen Mother’s funeral, surely a sign of English national pride being frustrated in most other ways.  There is a generation of English children just waiting to be given their sense of historical place and culture back. All it needs is the political will to do it.