One of the most dramatic events of the entire Civil War occurred on May 5, 1646, when the English King unceremoniously appeared in the camp of the Covenanting army. Although not unexpected, despite Scottish protestations to the contrary, this bold move could conceivably have transformed the war's character. That it had so little impact on the final outcome resulted not from the high hopes of the participants, Scots, Royalists, and French, but from inadequate planning and the failure to realistically anticipate consequences. Before very long the recognition that Charles' flight to the Scots was a massive blunder for all those involved became embarrassingly evident. The King was to be held virtual prisoner by the Covenanters, yet the Scots would gain little from their prize possession. How it came about that these two parties participated in such an act of desperation is the subject of this essay.

The Covenanters' willingness in 1646 to resort to extreme measures resulted from the recognition that their position in England had seriously deteriorated. They had originally intervened in the Civil War on the side of Parliament because they feared that a triumph for Royalism would provide the King with another chance to impose a settlement on Scotland. It was hoped in Edinburgh that the favorable resolution of the conflict, which their highly regarded army was sure to bring, would allow the Scots to shape the terms of the peace, and ultimately to play a permanent role in English affairs. Of great importance to the Kirk was the establishment in England of a Presbyterian church similar to their own model. Here too, Scottish ministers, with their greater experience, would exert an ongoing influence in England.

In his lively reassessment of extra-parliamentary politics early in the reign of George III, John Brewer advances a conclusion of potentially great significance. Where Sir Lewis Namier and Ian Christie see in Wilkism little more than a political May dance without important effect, Brewer finds a “focussed radicalism” embodying fundamental change in the nature of traditional English politics. Where George Rudé carefully delimits the geographical, social, and political range of Wilkite influence, Brewer argues that “focussed radicalism” was a truly national phenomenon personified in Wilkes and parent to the popular sensibility that underlay later anti-aristocratic and reform politics.

Brewer appears fully as unconventional in his attitude toward what constitutes proper evidence as in the conclusion he builds upon that evidence. Namier and Christie rest their cases on the seemingly solid foundation of election analysis. But Brewer rejects this evidence as inherently unsatisfactory. The “formal, institutional yardstick” of polls, we are told, cannot help measure the influence or extent of radical political opinion. Instead, he concentrates on non-electoral evidence, relying, above all, on the fragile and fleeting indications of support for Wilkes that are to be found in provincial newspapers, petitions, and public gatherings during the years 1768-1771.

Twentieth-century historians of the development of British political institutions have been persuaded by the late Sir Lewis Namier that the eighteenth century cannot fruitfully be analyzed in terms of party politics. “In 1761,” Sir Lewis observed, “not one parliamentary election was determined by party, and in 1951 not one constituency returned a non-party member.” J. H. Plumb has admittedly discerned a temporary “rage of party” during the reign of Queen Anne, and Donald Ginter has noted significant anticipations of modern party rivalry during the 1780s and 1790s while the late Richard Pares found “a tendency to a two party system” present during the immediate post-Napoleonic War years. Yet the modern political party system is generally seen as a direct if unwitting consequence of the Reform Act of 1832. In J.B. Conacher's words:

On January 1, 1967, the Association of Teachers in Technical Institutions became the first organization of British academics to affiliate with the Trades Union Congress. Over the next ten years such major educational bodies as the National Union of Teachers, the National Association of Schoolmasters, and the Association of University Teachers followed its lead and sought formal alignment with the organized labor movement in Britain. Participation in the T.U.C. meant identification as a trade union. This issue lay at the very heart of a lengthy debate within the A.T.T.I. over affiliation. For affiliation required a fundamental reappraisal of the A.T.T.I.'s traditional professional identity and organizational principles, one that ultimately led its members to recognize and acknowledge both the Association's primary role as a teachers' trade union and its common interests with the labor movement. The issue generated similar debate within many British education associations and signaled the emergence of teachers as active participants in the trade union movement. But it was an issue not easily resolved given teachers' historical identity as professionals. A.T.T.I. presence in the T.U.C. helped other associations move in the same direction and eased acceptance of this new identity in many instances. The A.T.T.I. decision to affiliate thus represents an important turning point in the history of that Association and the relationship between academics and the organized labor movement in Britain.