Ponderings

Tag: europe

  • The Sailor King

    On the 20th June, 1837 King William IV died. He reigned over Great Britain and Ireland for a mere seven years. He was also one of this country’s oldest Monarchs, as he was 64 years old when he ascended to the throne. His succession was regarded as inauspicious and concerning, as his personal life was in disrepute. His reputation was marred by his womanising, and rumours of illegitimate offspring.

    However William’s succession was a surprise. When his brother King George IV died, there were no surviving heirs. William spent most of his life serving in the Royal Navy. He was dispatched to sea at the age of 13, and was expected to rise through the ranks. However he never applied himself. His only serious dedication was to carousing.

    He was vulgar, arrogant and profligate with money. His strait-laced family were ashamed and horrified by his antics, and tried in vain to rein in the worst of his behaviour. Ironically, his bluntness appealed to Whig sensibilities. The King’s lack of decorum was perceived as a refreshing change to the apparent pretension of his predecessors. The reports of the day stated that he was,

    “A little old, red-nosed, weather-beaten, jolly looking person with an ungraceful air and carriage”. His coarseness contrasted quite markedly in contrast to the civility and poise that characterised the Kings and Queens who reigned before him.

    He was viewed as an asset to the Whig cause. They believed that they could use his image as the common man with the common touch to bolster their support. The tactic must have worked. Five months later, the Tory government collapsed and a new Whig administration was established.

    The new King truly was without pretension, he refused to move out of Clarence House after he was crowned. His reasoning was bluff and pragmatic, it was his home while he was still the heir and there was no real benefit or purpose for him to relocate to Buckingham Palace. He even conjectured that the Palace could be repurposed and converted into Army barracks. He also dreaded the coronation ceremony. He considered it tasteless and unnecessarily expensive.

    The Tory government was disgusted by the crude attitudes of the Monarch, and it was only under extreme duress that he acquiesced to their demands. He agreed to hold the ceremony, but shamefully it was the discounted version. It cost less than a fifth of George IV’s and the occasion was dubbed the “Half Crownation”. All of the sacred, ancient rites were deliberately truncated, and the King visibly mocked the solemnity throughout the service.

    A month later, the newly restored French King was forced into exile after violent demonstrations erupted in Paris. He was sent to Scotland, where he was protected by the novelist and ardent Monarchist Sir Walter Scott. William understood that his own position was never guaranteed, as history proved that his subjects were not always kind or forgiving to those who preceded him.

    On the 22nd November 1830, the Northumbrian aristocrat Earl Grey was installed as the new Prime Minister. He was elected on a mandate for Parliamentary reform. Inequality was entrenched throughout the Kingdom, and the Tories symbolised the worst trappings of inherited wealth and privilege.

    Fearing revolt and insurrection, the Whig government passed three Reform Acts which helped to suppress any nascent revolutionary fervour. Two years after this legislation received Royal Assent, in a bizarre twist of fate, fire broke out in the Houses of Parliament and the physical restoration of this towering symbol of democracy became an urgent necessity.

    The King lived long enough to witness his realm enjoy the fruits of liberty and freedom, but by the spring of 1837 his health began to deteriorate. His niece, the future Queen Victoria was barely eighteen years old when he died. Another chapter of British history closed, and a new era began.

  • Tower of Ivory, House of Gold

    Human imagination is vast, and grandiose in its scope. Human capability and ingenuity seems almost infinite. It is apparent in the variety of the architecture around us, from the most ornate castles and palaces and beyond. The most magnificent examples of these are preserved in posterity, but others have been lost to attrition, war or natural disaster.

    It is a testament to our strengths and abilities as a creative, ambitious and inventive species that many of our oldest buildings remain. It is impressive, considering that these were made with basic materials that derive from nature, and fashioned with human hands. In spite of their humble and ordinary origins, there is still an otherworldly quality attached to certain buildings, like cathedrals. Christian civilisation traditionally looked upwards for inspiration, and sought both meaning and succour in the higher realm. The design symbolises the human desire for spiritual ascendance, and transcendence beyond physical reality.

    Sacred spaces do not necessarily play as much of a central role in our lives, in comparison to our ancestors. However they still have a sentimental value. We remain emotionally attached to these buildings because they represent something profound. The spiritual significance has dwindled in importance in our increasingly cynical and sceptical age, but we still acknowledge the historical importance. Our past treasures are always worth preserving, but often this realisation comes to us far too late. We realised this during the first few decades of the twentieth century when a preponderance of modernists and futurists brought new ideas that captured the popular imagination. Unwittingly this fashionable scorn for heritage and tradition allowed crudely atheistic, secular and mechanistic political ideologies to foment as well.

    The inevitable consequence of this was the Second World War, and all of the precious conventions and convictions that we once held dear were turned upside down. Civilisation itself was on the brink of annihilation. Barbarism was supplanting civility. When Coventry Cathedral was bombed in the Luftwaffe raids, this was perceived as a grievous insult to the English people and a grave assault upon the very soul of England. The Cathedral was a priceless and irreparable relic of Medieval England, instantly condemned to the ashes of history.

    This was a devious tactic of war. It has been employed by every invading force since the beginning of warfare. The Nazis were no different to the barbarians of ancient times, they were just more sophisticated in their actions. The attack on the Cathedral was calculated and deliberate. They knew that this one action could demoralise the entire nation. A demoralised people are much easier to subdue, the first stage of conquest in every war.

    The Nazis followed a familiar pattern in history. The Babylonians were convinced that they could quell the Israelites when King Solomon’s Temple was destroyed by King Nebuchadnezzer’s army. However, the Israelites kept their resolve and dignity in spite of the desecration, and similarly the British kept theirs, and evil was ultimately defeated.

    However the task of rebuilding a shattered society was much harder to achieve. Houses, offices and factories could be rebuilt but it was virtually impossible to repair morale. Life in post-war Britain was austere, spare and fraught. We may have won the war, but it was at a considerable cost to our emotional well-being.

    The entire nation was traumatised by the experience. The remnants of war were evident in the rubble and detritus, but also in the broken people. The governments that were elected after the war took a decidedly paternalistic approach to politics. The state managed the practicalities of housing, health and public infrastructure.

    However societal rehabilitation was not easy, as bureaucrats were not equipped to do this, the inner resilience of the British people was the only attribute that could be depended upon. We have been an indefatigable people throughout history. We are less inclined to succumb to apathy and despair, even in the aftermath of the English Civil Wars there was a sense of a common purpose and a strong desire to rebuild society.

    The post-war governments were praised for their efficiency and their dedication to the restoration of the economy. However this is a kind of folk memory, rather than literal history that prevails, an illusion of a strong, stable, secure and unified nation. On the surface, this may have been true, but underneath there were troubling insecurities.

    Fascism was defeated, but communism remained a threat to democracy, and the nation state. The young were particularly vulnerable to the allure of it, with its false promises and simplistic answers to the struggles of life. Idealists always look for something tangible as a solution, and believe in the rhetoric of charismatic political leaders.

    It is tragic to consider that the young and the gullible lack the experience and the wisdom to understand that perfection in society is impossible. They are easy prey for political charlatans who use sophistry to lure them into their web of deceit. Similarly, naivety can inspire the most reckless behaviour, all in a vain bid to solve the eternal mystery of mankind’s suffering. In William Golding’s visionary novel “The Spire”, Dean Jocelin receives a message from God, telling him that he has a divine mission to build a hundred foot spire.

    However his plan is completely impractical, and technically impossible, yet he pursues this project like a man possessed. Eventually his delusions of grandeur lead to his untimely demise. The Spire itself is a metaphor for the folly of man, a creature imbued with an innate sense of his own superiority, but in reality as fragile as a leaf in the wind. No creation supersedes nature, we must remember this.