FinermanWorks

I came across this entertaining verse on English history, written in the 19th century, distinguishing the first four King Georges.

George the First was always reckoned
Vile, but viler George the Second;
And what mortal ever heard
Any good of George the Third?
When from earth the Fourth descended
God be praised, the Georges ended.

–Walter Savage Landor

It is good doggerel but poor history.  Let’s see if I can do better.

I’ll answer with candor
The errs of Walt Landor…
George First was the worst, unspeakably vile.
So reckon the Second inversely mild.
The Third, be assured, a well-meaning churl.
His diligent efforts lost the New World.
The Fourth, I discourse, was shamelessly bad:
A gluttonous wastrel, bigamist cad.
(The year of his death, 1864,
Kept Landor from rhyming for two Georges more)
The Fifth was a stiff, a true head of staid,
But fought cousin Wilhelm’s attempt to invade.
The Sixth stood affixed and showed majesty
In “their finest hour” of Brit’ history.

p.s.  Let’s not forget the historic significance of this day:  http://finermanworks.com/your_rda_of_irony/2009/08/23/history-rumors-and-hollywood/

In my meanderings through the internet, I came across a reference to the Roman poet Ovid. Since he is assigned reading in Classics 101 and merits an occasional question on Jeopardy, the man obviously has achieved immortality. That might have been some consolation to a man who was condemned for immorality in ancient Rome. To earn that kind of distinction, one might have had to debauch every vestal virgin and the entire Praetorian Guard, probably on the same night. (Imagine that Viagra Commercial!)  Unfortunately, Ovid really was the victim of guilt by association. At worst, he simply was the poet laureate of certain orgies, those of the daughter of Augustus.

But Augustus didn’t approve of family scandals. The Emperor couldn’t prosecute everyone at his daughter’s orgies–that would have been a class action suit–but he could punish the most conspicuous participants. And a celebrity poet made a great example. So Ovid ended up exiled, spending his last years on the Romanian coast of the Black Sea.

Think of the irony: a Roman’s idea of punishment is a East European’s idea of vacation. Imagine if Dostoyevsky had been exiled there instead of Siberia. How would his outlook have changed….

“Crime and Punishment“: In an attempt to demonstrate his superior will, Rodya steals an apple pie from the nice lady baker. Can he live with the guilt, and will he get a tummyache from eating too much?

“The Brothers Karamazov“: Dad and Dmitri are vying for the affections of Grushenka, an adorable stray puppy. Ivan and Alexei debate the existence of Santa Claus; Ivan has serious doubts.

“The Idiot“: Prince Mishkin is so nice that he makes everyone wish that they had epilepsy.

p.s.  And from last year, a birthday greeting to the “Worst Englishman of the 17th Century”: http://finermanworks.com/your_rda_of_irony/2008/09/15/a-scoundrel-ahead-of-his-time/

After three ghastly years of war with cousin Willy, the royal family of Britain felt pressured to change its name. Saxe-Coburg-Gotha sounded unpatriotic. Indeed, the British royal family was quite German. Although born in London, Queen Mary was Teck-nically German. The mother of King George was (mercifully) Danish, but his paternal ancestry was almost completely Deutsch. (There had been a Scottish/Danish great- great- etc. grandmother almost three hundred years earlier.) The family decided to rename itself the impeccably anglophile guise of Windsor.

I have done a calculation of the British ancestry of the Royal family. You may need a microscope.

George V was 3/32768 English. By comparison, he was much more Scottish: 3/4096. The rest of his ancestors were German or Danish. However, George VI actually married a nice British girl. But then his daughter had to marry ein Battenberg (even if the family tactfully translated it to Mountbatten).

It is ironic but British law does not require the monarch to be British. The sole requirement is that he or she be Protestant.  At the penalty of disinheritance, a member of the Royal Family is prohibited from marrying a Catholic.

However, the prohibition does not apply to other religions. So, in theory, Prince Charles could have married Nigella Lawson (Levinson actually) or Rachel Weisz.

Mark Sanford mentions King David as his role model.  To spare him having to associate with a Jew, I recommend these paragons of Victorian hypocrisy. 

Scandal Number One

Charles Parnell (1846-1891), the leader of the Irish representatives in Parliament, was a veritable kingmaker. Shifting his bloc to the Tories or the Liberals, he could determine who would be Prime Minister. However, Parnell was not quite so adroit in his personal affairs. A Captain O’Shea noticed that his wife’s younger children seemed to resemble Mr. Parnell, and the indignant husband began divorce proceedings. Mr. Parnell’s name was conspicuous in the accusations.

A certain Church prominent in Ireland does not approve of divorce. Parnell only outraged the Church further when he married his divorced mistress. From pulpits and in the Irish press, Parnell was condemned. With his status as a pariah, he was abandoned by the Irish members of Parliament. Under the strain, Parnell died soon after of a heart attack.

“The Uncrowned King of Ireland“, Parnell had been a proponent of Home Rule for this country. He alone seemed capable of controlling the sectarian rifts between the Ulster and Catholic Irish members of Parliament. Prime Minister Gladstone needed that solid Irish bloc to support his bill for Irish Home Rule. Without Parnell’s leadership, the Ulster members joined with the Tories and blocked the passage of Home Rule. The best chance for a peaceful integration of Ireland into the United Kingdoms was lost, and the consequence was to be rebellion and civil war.

Parnell might have been consoled to know that he would portrayed by Clark Gable in a Hollywood saga.  Unfortunately, it also was Gable’s worst role.

Scandal Number Two

Sir Charles Dilke (1843-1911) might have been a likely Prime Minister. Unfortunately, the Liberal star in Parliament was accused of being a little too liberal with other men’s wives. Balancing both his wife and his married mistress were not the problem; any Victorian gentleman could manage that. However, Dilke found himself dragged into a divorce court, accused of adultery with his mistress’ married daughter.

That woman further accused Dilke of infecting her with syphilis. Dilke denied any involvement with his mistress’ daughter. The evidence was circumstantial. Both had the disease but not necessarily from each other. Furthermore, she seemed to have had a number of intimate acquaintances.

The Court acquitted Dilke of this particular adultery, but the press and public opinion did not. His prospects for leadership were ruined.

And Dilke’s scandal never even merited a movie.

A few years ago some British historians compiled a list of the worst Englishmen of the last thousand years.  The scoundrels were categorized by century.  The historians selected Jack the Ripper as the worst Englishman of the 19th century.  The Ripper did kill five prostitutes but “Jack” was a philanthropist compared to Charles Trevelyan.  A bureaucrat can destroy the lives of millions…and be knighted for it. 

The story is on page 20: 

http://www.dixonvalve.com/fgal/publications/Boss_Summer_2009_DIXBOS.pdf

I am not feeling quite so Anglophile today.

Bonnie Prince Charlie is the Scotch endearment for the drunken imbecile who led the Highlanders to disaster, ruin and Canada. He was the heir and last champion of the House of Stuart or, in his case, the Souse of Stupor. His grandfather was the obnoxious and stupid James II, king of Great Britain. The Stuarts, the rulers of Scotland, always had a poor working relationship with England. James IV was killed in battle with the English. His son James V died in flight after a lost battle with the English. His granddaughter Mary was executed by the English. Ironically, when Elizabeth I died and had no heirs (one of the side effects of being a a Virgin Queen) the throne went to her distant cousin James VI of Scotland. Somehow, James avoided being killed by the English. However, his son Charles I didn’t.

Charles I had two sons who managed to avoid infant mortality, childhood diseases and 17th century medicine. Charles II was remarkably charming and bright for a Stuart (actually,he took after his French grandfather Henri IV). The Merry Monarch had 18 children but none were with his wife. Upon his death, the throne went to his legitimate heir: his brother James. James was a typical Stuart, and he managed to further alienate the Protestant Parliament by being a Catholic. However, his daughters and heirs Mary and Anne were Protestant; so Parliament was prepared to tolerate James as an aberration on the Anglican throne. The Protestant succession could end, however, if James’ second wife, a nice Italian girl, gave birth to a son. According to the sexist laws of succession, an infant Catholic son would take precedence over his teenage Protestant half-sisters.

Well, guess what happened in 1688? The announcements in the Times would have read:

“James and Mary Stuart are pleased to announced the birth of their son Junior.”

“Parliament has an opening for a senior executive position in the British civil service. Protestants only.”

William, Prince of the Netherlands, evidently had the most promising resume. His wife was Mary the daughter of James II, and he was impeccably Protestant. Parliament invited him and Mary to take control of the throne. Although James II still had the loyalty of most of the army, the king’s nerves failed him and he fled, with his Catholic family, to France. Having faltered when he had the most advantageous position, James would later incite a slipshod rebellion in Ireland. The Orangemen are still gloating about the results. William and Mary had no children. (His fondness for pugs should have been a hint.) After their deaths Anne succeeded. The Stuarts usually were stupid but attractive: imagine a dynasty cast by Aaron Spelling. Anne, however, was begrudged the good looks and cheated in every other way too. The dull, miserable woman outlived her children, was exploited by politicians and betrayed by every friend but her brandy. When she died of alcohol and dropsy, Parliament had to choose her successor. Her half-brother James was the nearest heir, and he did have supporters in England. The Tory Party was founded by the Stuart’s partisans. The alternative was her second cousin George: an elderly, repulsive German princeling who couldn’t speak English. However, he was a Protestant while James was a Catholic. With the Whig Party in control of Parliament, Britain soon had King George I.

The rejected James attempted a coup in England but, being a Stuart, he managed to doing everything wrong. This was known as the first Jacobite Rebellion. In time, the son of this prince–Bonny Prince Charlie–would incite the Second Jacobite Rebellion. Charles’ chief adviser was his brandy flask. In Scotland, it was usually filled with Drambuie, which still advertises his enthusiastic patronage.

Attempting to restore the Stuarts to the British throne, Charles landed in Northern Scotland in 1745 and incited the Highlanders to rebellion. In some ways, the Jacobite Rebellion of 1745-46 seems like one of those recent British comedies that require subtitles to understand. We could call this saga: “The Full Montebank.” A drunken, aristocratic twit, trying to pose as ‘just a working fella’ runs for president…no that’s the reincarnation…Anyway, this sotted fop rallies the Highland rowdies who–despite their inept leader–manage to conquer Scotland and invade England. The English are caught completely unprepared; London is in a panic. Charlie’s army of Highlanders is only 100 miles away. The rebellion actually has a chance of succeeding; the Tory Party in England is sympathetic. Then, in an untimely moment of sobriety, Charlie gets cold feet and retreats back to Scotland.

Unfortunately, the end is no comedy. The English army has a chance to organize and begins a vengeful pursuit. At the last battle, Culloden in 1746, the Scots are back where they started: in the Highlands. They have swords and an idiot commander; the English have cannons, muskets and a sadistic commander. Actually, Culloden is a massacre rather than a battle. Charlie manages to escapes and gets to France. Most of his soldiers are either killed at the battle or hunted down and slaughtered as they attempt to flee.

The English began a period of brutal repression in the Highlands. Their policy basically gave the Scots three choices: would you like to hang, starve or go to Canada?

However, Bonnie Prince Charlie was not reduced to drinking Molson’s. He managed to escape to France and spent his remaining forty-two years plotting against his liver. On this day in 1788, he finally succeeded.

My idea of casual conversation would include an allusion to Benjamin Disraeli. My acquaintance’s idea of a response was “Who?”  I hoped that I maintained a stoic mien but my eyebrows might have been doing the semaphores of  “How can you be so stupid?” The lady, a friend of a neighbor, is Gentile; so she would have been indifferent to the most interesting feature of Disraeli. I just provided her with a brief description of a “British prime minister of the 19th century and a man of extraordinary charm and wit.”

Now, I don’t want to seem like a pedantic bully  9even if I really am) but I think that a middle-aged college graduate should have heard of Benjamin Disraeli. He is not obscure. It is not as if I had belabored the poor woman with such prime ministerial ciphers as Henry Campbell-Bannerman or James Callahan. (And if I had mentioned Andrew Bonar Law, she might have slapped me.)

I realized that Americans’ criterion for historical significance is whether or not it was made into a movie. But Disraeli has been, and he has been portrayed by George Arliss, John Gielgud, Alec Guinness and Ian McShane. Given Disraeli’s origins, Adam Sandler or Ben Stiller may feel entitled to play him! No, that woman should have heard of Disraeli.

In fact, I think that a number of British prime ministers merit at least a minimum of recognition.

Lord North (1770-1782), the idiot during the American Revolution.

William Pitt the Younger (1783-1801, 1804-1806) if only because Pittsburgh was named for his father.

Earl Grey (1830-1834) because he had such great taste in tea. Yes, really.

Benjamin Disraeli (1868, 1874-1880): He needs no introduction.

William Gladstone (1868-1874, 1880-1885, 1886, 1892-1894): Disraeli’s rival. If Disraeli was Groucho, Gladstone was Margaret Dumont.

David Lloyd George (1916-1922) in case you were wondering who was standing next to Woodrow Wilson at Versailles.

Neville Chamberlain (1937-1940) who is now remembered as an insult and an accusation.

Winston Churchill (1940-45, 1951-1955), the man George Bush claims to be–give or take the eloquence.

Margaret Thatcher (1979-1990): Disraeli’s politics with Gladstone’s charm.

Tony Blair (1997-2007) if only to prove that you were not completely oblivious.

Gordon Brown: well, maybe not.

After three ghastly years of war with cousin Willy, the royal family of Britain felt pressured to change its name. Saxe-Coburg-Gotha sounded unpatriotic. Indeed, the British royal family was quite German. Although born in London, Queen Mary was Teck-nically German. The mother of King George was (mercifully) Danish, but his paternal ancestry was almost completely Deutsch. (There had been a Scottish/Danish great (etc.)-grandmother almost three hundred years earlier.) The family decided to rename itself the impeccably anglophile guise of Windsor.

I have done a calculation of the British ancestry of the Royal family. You may need a microscope.

George V was 3/32768 English. By comparison, he was much more Scottish: 3/4096. The rest of his ancestors were German or Danish. However, George VI actually married a nice British girl. But then his daughter had to marry ein Battenberg (even if the family tactfully translated it to Mountbatten).

It is ironic but British law does not require the monarch to be British. The sole requirement is that he or she be Protestant.  At the penalty of disinheritance, a member of the Royal Family is prohibited from marrying a Catholic.

However, the prohibition does not apply to other religions. So, in theory, Prince Charles could have married Nigella Lawson (Levinson actually) or Rachel Weisz.

Is decapitation hereditary?

If Thomas Howard, fourth Duke of Norfolk, were here to celebrate his 471st birthday, I would ask that question. Surely he would have noticed that much of his family–Dad, Aunt Catherine, Cousin Anne, etc.– was dying in the Tower of London rather than Norfolk. Grandfather nearly went to the block but instead spent years watching the mold on his cell walls. At the very least, being a Duke of Norfolk seemed to have some risk. So, why was the fourth Duke writing fan letters to Mary, Queen of Scots? Perhaps he couldn’t help himself if decapitation is a hereditary trait. He certainly discovered that Queen Elizabeth I had a hereditary trait too: Tudor vindictiveness.

Yet, the Howards were fairly adapt at surviving. They had been on the wrong side at the Battle of Bosworth, but switched their loyalty from York to Tudor. They could be just as flexible in theology, oscillating their piety from Rome to Canterbury to Rome. The Howards were devoutly Anglican when it came to seizing monastery lands from the Catholic Church. Once they sated themselves upon the Church’s wealth, they could be Anglicans for Henry VIII and Edward VI; they could be Catholics for Mary. (Caught between Elizabeth and Mary Stuart, they tried being everything. That proved tricky.) Had the Ottoman fleet sailed up the Thames, the ingratiating Howards probably would have become the Emirs of Norfolk.

In the 17th century, when the reigning Stuarts were subconscious or covert Catholics, the Dukes of Norfolk felt safe to resume their Catholicism. For the last three centuries, they have avoided any unpleasant stays in the Tower. And yes, the Howards are still the Dukes of Norfolk.

By unpopular demand, here is the list of the worst Britons of the last 1000 years.

1000 to 1100: Eadric Streona
1100 to 1200: Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury
1200 to 1300: King John of England
1300 to 1400: Hugh Despenser (The Younger)
1400 to 1500: Thomas Arundel, Archbishop of Canterbury
1500 to 1600: Sir Richard Rich

1600 to 1700: Titus Oates
1700 to 1800: Prince William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland
1800 to 1900: Jack the Ripper
1900 to 2000: Oswald Mosley

Bear in mind, this list was compiled by British historians–who have actually heard of Eadric Streona.

Eadric actually deserves fame as well as infamy.  He was the first of that unique and fascinating English specimen: the upper-class traitor. In the 11th century wars between the English and the Danes, Eadric managed to be on both sides. He continually betrayed everyone but managed to ingratiate himself back into his victims’ trust.  Well, King Canute finally got tired and wise. 

The inclusion of Thomas Becket is a surprise.  At least, he was a hero in the movie.  However, you might consider the perspective of Henry II.  His wife is poisoning his mistresses and trying to overthrow him.  With all that aggravation, Henry certainly doesn’t need an Archbishop who was claiming more sovereignty than the King.  If not the worst Briton of the 12th century, Thomas Becket certainly was the most tactless.

King John needs no introduction.  

And you have already met Hugh Despenser.  http://finermanworks.com/your_rda_of_irony/2006/11/26/popular-disembowelments-of-1326/

Thomas Arundel liked burning heretics, and his idea of heresy was very extensive.  Even suggesting that the Bible be translated into English was a flammable offense.  Arundel could be an honorary Spaniard.    

You might recognize Richard Rich as the snivelling opportunist in “A Man For All Seasons.”  Thomas More was just one of his victims.  Rich was the greatest dancer of his age, making remarkable leaps from one faction to another, from one religion to another–and back, and he always landed on his feet and someone else’s neck. The scoundrel rose to be Chancellor of England, lived to be 70, and died in bed. His story reminds me of this anecdote. When Cardinal Richelieu died, the Pope mused, “If there is a God, the Cardinal will have much to answer for. If there is not God, Richelieu has had a very successful life.”  I think that we can say the same about Richard Rich. 

Titus Oates was the Joseph McCarthy of his day, claiming that there was a Catholic conspiracy lurking under every bed.  His lurid accusations incited widespread fears of treason and imminent invasion.  Factions at the Royal Court and in Parliament were only too happy to use this Anti-Papist hysteria to undermine or ruin their opponents.  Innocent people were imprisoned.  Eventually, so was Oates; someone finally asked for proof.  Yet, his supporters saw to his early release and voted him a government pension.

William, Duke of Cumberland, was a superb general against badly armed peasants and unarmed civilians.  The brother of George II was entrusted with crushing a rebellion in Scotland.  The Highland Scots had swords and were led by an alcoholic dolt.  Having cannons and muskets, the English were at a definite advantage.  Unfortunately, Cumberland was not a gracious winner.  He practiced pacification through depopulation.  The Scots were presented with this choice: hanging, starving or going to Canada.

Jack the Ripper? The British have a very genteel definition of “the worst.” Five corpses wouldn’t qualify him for a junior membership in the Mafia, Crips or NRA. For the worst Briton of the 19th century, I would nominate the right dishonorable Charles Trevelyan. He was the British administrator who let the Irish starve.

 
Sir Oswald Mosley was the definitive upper-class cad. Women left their husbands for him. He was equally promiscuous with politics, going from Tory to Labour to Fascist. He really was looking for a pedestal rather than a platform.  As leader of the British Fascists, he finally found his adoring cult.  His fellow aristocrats did not mind Sir Oswald’s embrace of Fascism; they somewhat agreed with ideas and rather liked the Gucci uniforms. However, they could not condone his adoption of Nazi tactics. One snubs Jews (although the Rothschilds were too rich to ignore) but you don’t try beating them up on the streets of London.  “I say, old boy. We can excuse treason but not vulgarity.”