The delivery guy (Andy) leaves the daily paper on top of the heater in the atrium downstairs. As a result it’s pleasantly warm by the time I get down to pick it up. This feels luxurious, somehow, this pre-warmed newspaper. Almost like that pre-warmed shaving cream they use at the old barbershop downtown (very nice). Looks like 2010 will be the year of simple pleasures.
And yet all is not well on the newspaper front: apparently a fellow resident has taken a liking to our nicely warmed copies of the Globe. It’s a classic case of “early bird gets the worm,” really. Never mind that this “worm” is hand delivered with my name on it; if I’m not down there to pick it up early, well, it probably wont be there when I go down to pick it up late. Setting the worm analogy aside (I’m not the one who’s robbin’ here), the predicament really rankles on Saturdays — which usually mark the best papers and the laziest mornings of the lot.
Anyhow, lately there’s been much debate in the news regarding the divine right of Kings and Prime Ministers to prorogue Parliament. Fortunately I’m not the only one who recalls earlier prorogations of dubious merit. The 17th-century parliamentary historian John Rushworth (see Historical collections of private passages of state Weighty matters in law [1659]) records one such prorogation, courtesy of King James, which took place in 1621:
A Committee of both Houses afterwards attending the King, he told them how ill he took it, that the Commons should dispute his reasons of Adjournment; all power being in him alone to call, adjourn, prorogue, and dissolve Parliaments. And on Iune 4. he declared for an Adjournment till November following; And that he will in the mean time of his own authority redress Grievances.
In response, the adjourned MPs drew up a declaration voicing their frustration at having their legislative hands tied, first lamenting their plight then claiming that “upon signification of His Majesties pleasure in Parliament, they shall be ready to the utmost of their powers, both with their lives and fortunes to assist him so…” The declaration is quoted in Rushworth (in Gothic type no less):
As it happened, “His majesties pleasure” outweighed parliamentary process. Rushworth writes that the King took
notice that many great affairs debated in Parliament could not be brought to perfection in so short a time… and withall observing that divers of those Particulars required a speedy determination and settlement for his peoples good, and that they are of that condition and quality… that he needeth not the assistance of Parliament to reform the same…
Charles I would take a similar course during his own reign. Turning to A compleat history of the life and raigne of King Charles from his cradle to his grave collected and written by William Sanderson, Esq. (1658), we find another justification of prorogation — here Charles chooses to prorogue rather than face interference and criticism from Parliament. Sanderson includes the King’s 1628 proclamation, Addressed to “My Lords and Gentlemen,” which begins thus:
IT may seem strange that I come so suddenly to end this Session, therefore before I give my assent to the Bils, I will tell you the cause, though I must avow I ow an account of my actions to none but God alone. It is known to every one that a while ago the House of Commons gave me a Remonstrance, how acceptable every man may judge, and for the merit of it I will not call that in question, for I am sure no wise man can justifie it.
Now since I am certainly informed that a second Remonstrance is preparing for me, to take away my profit of Tunnage and Poundage (one of the chief maintenances of the Crown) by alleadging that I have given away my right thereof, by my Answer to your Petition.
This is so prejudicial to me, as I am forced to end this Session some few hours before I meant it, being willing not to receive any more Remonstrances, to which I must give an harsh answer.
And since I see that even the House of Commons begins already to make false constructions of what I granted in your Petition, lest it be worse interpreted in the Country, I will now make a Declaration concerning the true intent thereof.
Sound familiar, perhaps? It seems to me that recent criticism leveled at Prime Minister Harper could have served equally well in these Stuart-era parliamentary fiascos. Here’s a sampling of choice phrases from “Democracy Diminished, Accountability Avoided” (The Globe and Mail, December 31, 2009):
The Conservatives are hoping to bask in the glow of Olympic glory while dodging the mess and scrutiny of lawmaking, Question Period and an outstanding, unprecedented order from Parliament to provide transparency and truth on the detainee file…
If the debate over detainees can not be carried out in Parliament, then it should continue among Canadians at large. On this and other important issues, the government cannot delay accountability for ever…
Government members have already acted as truants when Afghanistan committee hearings are called. The government failed to provide documents to committee members, and implied it will disregard a parliamentary order to produce those documents. Prorogation is the logical extension of such thinking: shut down parliamentary debate entirely.
[See the whole thing here.]
I guess the political game hasn’t changed that much over the last 400 years!
real gem among the civil-war-era tracts I’ve looked over so far, the short pamphlet The Rider of the White Horse (1643) provides a lively account of “that wonderfull victory at Bradford” and “the taking of Leeds and Wakefield by the same men.” Both battles take place in the north, within a sort of game at chess that unfolded between the competing Lords Fairfax (a Parliamentarian) and Newcastle (a Royalist). The stories recorded here — although slightly propagandistic — are wonderful things, and I’ll cover a few of the finer details for you here.
Some of the old print artifacts I come across in the EEBO (
