Our peculiar brand of democracy and liberty is a noble thing, but we should be wary of recommending it to other countries.
Historian Mandell Creighton believed unlike our Continental neighbours, when the English laid down our Constitution we were driven not by ideological purity or a passion for order but by a desire to protect our customs and little oddities. Though this worked well for us, foreign nations had some trouble getting it to work for them — and they were starting to notice it.
Robert Tomson was a typical Englishman and it nearly killed him, but it also made him a fortune and won him a bride.
In a prestigious lecture on the English national character in Oxford, historian Mandell Creighton developed the theme that unlike our European neighbours we don’t much care what others think of us. Sometimes this is good, sometimes bad and sometimes, as in the case of sixteenth-century emigrant Robert Tomson, both.
We English would not hand out so much unsolicited advice to foreign countries if we knew more about their history.
In a lecture entitled ‘The English National Character’ historian Mandell Creighton argued that the English were the first to create for themselves a national character, standing aloof from the debates and upheavals of the Continent and muddling along in our own way. Over the years, this had made the English into one of the great nations of the world, but it had also made us insensitive and frankly very annoying.
Two of the Victorian Age’s most distinguished historians locked horns over the question of whether historians should be nice.
In 1887, historian Mandell Creighton published the third volume of his monumental study of the Papacy. Fellow historian Lord Acton, a Roman Catholic troubled by the recent declaration of Papal Infallibility, criticised him for being too soft on the crimes of the Popes: the historian who easily excuses the tyrants of the past, he warned, may also hire himself out to excuse the tyrants of the present.