The most recent survey of the early years of the long parliament has restated the traditional view that the parliament was united against the king from the first, under the leadership of John Pym. This opinion is so deeply ingrained in the historical consciousness that one reviewer has expressed surprise at the evidence adduced by Mr Fletcher of divisions of opinion in the Commons as early as 1641. Some of these disagreements were noticed four years ago by Professor Ashton, yet he calculated that there was a majority of 400 to 80 against the king, and titled his chapter ‘From Consensus to Confrontation’; according to Dr Manning, the king was ‘almost powerless’. It is surprising that this view has held the field so long, when the most cursory reading of the Commons Journal shows it to be a myth. In a period for which we have so little hard evidence of the course of events, the evidence of the journals should not be ignored; none the less, it will be suggested that the role of peers, in and out of parliament, was at least as important as anything that happened in the lower house in the first few months. Not all the issues involved can be discussed here: this paper will consider, in outline, some of the evidence concerning finance, the reforming legislation, and the impeachment of Strafford.

‘A mysterious dispute arose in Cumberland between the Earl of Carlisle, lord lieutenant, and Sir George Fletcher.’ So wrote Professor J. R. Western in 1965 as he speculated that the matter stemmed from party conflicts in parliament at the time of the Exclusion Crisis. While that had some bearing on the matter, the dispute can be understood more fully only by a study of county politics in Restoration Cumberland and Westmorland. The controversy originated around 1679 between the earl's son, generally known by his courtesy title of Lord Morpeth (c. 1646–92) and Sir George (1633–1700). At the time the earl, Charles Howard (1628–85), was in Jamaica as governor. When he returned to England in September 1680 he sided with his son and became Sir George's principal antagonist.

Of the three major innovations in law enforcement in nineteenth-century England, the penitentiaries, the new police and the stipendiary magistracy, the stipendiary magistracy came first. Three years before Patrick Colquhoun published his influential Treatise on the police of the metropolis, urging the foundation of a centralized preventative police force, the Middlesex Justices Act of 1792 established a system of paid magistrates for metropolitan London. The stipendiary magistracy sitting in police offices was further reformed in the 1820s and 1830s, the same decades which saw the organization of the metropolitan police. By 1838 the police courts had taken their final shape, remaining largely unaltered into the twentieth century. Side by side with the new police, stipendiary magistrates were the primary instruments of public order in Victorian London.

The return of Gladstone as prime minister, after the Liberals had secured a decisive majority at the polls in April 1880, has for long been established in the mythology of the Liberal party. In retrospect, the series of events which had drawn Gladstone back into active politics after his retirement in 1875 – his opposition to Beaconsfield's Eastern policy, the oratorical campaigns in Midlothian, and the rout of ‘Jingoism’ at the general election – came to be seen as a natural, linear development, whereby his special sense of affinity with the ‘;people’ was re-established and the great election victory assured. His subsequent resumption of the premiership accordingly became surrounded by an air of inevitability: the hesitant leadership of the whigs giving way to that of the man who had inspired the struggle against Beaconsfield's ‘system of government’ and who alone could command the allegiance of all sections of the great Liberal majority.

There is at present much interest in historical explanations for the political attitudes and collective behaviour of industrial workers. Typically, such I explanations develop out of descriptions of production relations. In some cases, historians have adduced the constituents of such relations (including shopfloor conditions, job skills and hierarchies of workers and employers) to explain strikes, unions, and mass-based political parties. In other cases, historians of labouring people have emphasized one or another of these elements – e.g. relative levels of skill – in efforts to explain collective behaviour. Still others have taken a more general view, ascribing workers' collective rebellion to the history of industrial capitalism itself; in this view, conditions for rebellion depend upon the historical moment, or conjuncture.

The 1890s can easily be portrayed as the era of missed opportunities in Anglo-German relations. Before the Kruger telegram, the Boer War, the Boxer rebellion and the Berlin to Bagdad railway, and most particularly before the naval race, it seems possible that Britain and Germany might have drawn closer together and that areas of mutual interest might have led to co-operation rather than antagonism. The failure to draw together in the 1890s, it can be argued, precipitated the series of disputes that progressively embittered Anglo-German relations. If only an understanding had been reached before each side became convinced of the other's enmity, if only men on both sides had been more reasonable, more judicious, more temperate, perhaps Europe could have avoided the division into armed camps, and perhaps the cataclysm of 1914 could have been averted.

Over ten years have passed since Michael Howard offered what he himself called a controversial thesis about British defence policy before the Second World War. This was that ‘the Empire brought Britain no strength in her dealings with Germany. Yet British strength had nevertheless to be dissipated in the Empire's defence.’ By 1937 the needs of home defence against air attack and of imperial defence seemed so overwhelming toBritish policy-makers that the cabinet decided that no expeditionary force could be spared to help maintain the European balance of power. Howard stressed that he was offering only a ‘very rough preliminary sketch’, which was ‘probably distorted and certainly incomplete’, in view of the limited range of documents which he had had time to consult. In particular, what was missing from his thesis was any attempt to give weights to the relative importance of home and imperial defence problems as explanations for lack of preparation to commit land forces to help allies on the European continent.