By comparison with Eton, Winchester College has fared rather poorly in the race for the top job, whilst the current election being fought by Rishi Sunak may echo the fate of Henry Addington, its other PM, writes Barry Shurlock

 

IT is not perhaps surprising that an outstanding school in the marshy outskirts of a provincial cathedral city has, over the centuries, produced fewer PMs than another upstream of Westminster, thronging with the sons of the great and the good, and within shouting distance of a royal castle on the other side of the Thames.

Even so, Winchester College, which provided the inspiration for Eton – and its first headmaster, William Waynflete – has done very well with its six chancellors of the exchequer, originally a job done by the PM.  The conclusion might be that it is very good at providing “second-in-commands” with a good brain and plenty of common sense.

That certainly was the hope amongst Tories when, in March 1801, Henry Addington took over from Pitt the Younger, who after more than 17 years as PM, starting at age 24, was worn out with work and drink. He was also quarrelling with the king at a time when the concept of a constitutional monarch had not quite sunk into the royal head.

There was much that was wrong with the country and it was a good time for Pitt to go. War with the French and others was going badly and had ruined the economy. The loss of markets in Europe (shades of Brexit?) and poor harvests signalled famine and social unrest.

In fact, it was not an easy handover as almost immediately George III had one of his spells of madness (probably due to bipolar disorder or porphyria) and Pitt had to soldier on for three months. There was even the possibility that the Prince of Wales would take over as regent. In the event, the king recovered and Addington became PM.

Nominally, the issue which finally persuaded Pitt to throw in the towel was his desire to legislate for Catholic emancipation – to rid Catholics of the tiresome and expensive requirements of a raft of laws that constrained them from public office and much else. Amongst other reasons, he was keen to bring this to fruition to reward the Irish who had agreed in the previous August to union with Great Britain.

The idea of Catholics being freed (which eventually had to wait until 1829) was abhorrent to George III, who stepped outside royal protocol at a levee (a men-only reception) and shouted: “I shall look on every man as my personal enemy who proposes that question to me!” Not only was Pitt dismayed at this expression of royal opinion in public, but felt unable to carry on with a king who appeared to be overriding his powers.

So it was that Henry Addington, Speaker of the House of Commons, came to be PM. It has to be said that he was not very keen and had to be persuaded by desperate pleas from the king and Pitt, who had been a friend since childhood.

The wits of the day, who might now be writing for Private Eye, had a great time lampooning the new PM. One of the sharpest was tory politician George Canning, who had also been educated in Winchester, albeit at Hyde Abbey prep school, although he went on to Eton. He ably demonstrated the bizarre fact that a well-written verse can be more effective than the smartest of political manoeuvres.

His cruellest jibe, oft repeated, was that “Pitt is to Addington as London is to Paddington”. Others depicted him as “the doctor”’, come to treat a sick country. This reflected his father, Dr Anthony Addington, a pioneering specialist in psychiatry, who practised in Reading (where there is a blue plaque). Amongst his patients were both George III and Pitt the Elder.  

The image of the doctor cast Addington in the mould of a technician – and a quack one at that – without the political instincts required to run the country. History, of course, rarely repeats itself, But Rishi Sunak is the son of a doctor (and a pharmacist) and some believe, rightly or wrongly, that he is more of a senior civil servant than a hardened political operator.

As for the wit Canning, the third PM with a Winchester link, he did not take office until 1827 and fared worse than the others. Heavyweights such as the Duke of Wellington and Sir Robert Peel refused to serve with him. And then he had the misfortune to die from pneumonia after only 119 days in office, which made him the shortest serving PM until Liz Truss.

After Winchester and Oxford, Addington trained as a lawyer at Lincoln’s Inn, and at the age of 27 was elected MP for Devizes. Five years later Pitt championed him as Speaker of the House of Commons.

Like Sunak, Addington came to power when the political landscape was in turmoil and Europe – and the world in general – was facing dictators of varying hue. He was in some ways luckier: at least he had a good first year, doubling tax income and developing an effective foreign policy based on a “Eurocentric balance of power”.

An early outcome was a treaty with France signed at Amiens. It marked the end of the revolutionary wars and fostered hopes that it would bring enduring peace to the country.  Unfortunately, after scarcely 14 months, Napoleon was preparing once again to send an armada across the Channel.

Despite, his successes, many experienced politicians of the day regarded Addington as a poor substitute for Pitt, who was repeatedly urged to take back the helm.  However, he was unwilling to plead for power, and would only have returned as PM if George III had backed down, which he failed to do.

For Pitt it was the first time for many years that he might have taken things easy. But as a born workaholic he continued to work, despite poor health due in part to heavy drinking.  When war with France did resume, the ex-PM like so many others commanded military volunteers to protect the coast of his home county of Kent.

His papers show him making use of the trigonometry he had learned at Cambridge to model troops movements. And he continued to attend parliament, making brilliant speeches that were increasingly critical of Addington’s policies. Little by little he moved away from his old friend, who was no match for his extraordinary oratory, and failed to command support beyond an inner circle of MPs and court favourites.

So, after three years of Addington, Pitt once more became PM, albeit for only two years, dying in office in January 1806 at the age of 46. One reason for his short life was no doubt the treatment he had received at Cambridge from Dr Addington: Pitt followed his prescription of “a bottle of port a day” for the rest of his life.

Addington was luckier: ennobled as Viscount Sidmouth he went on for another 38 years, holding a number of government posts, including home secretary. He remained politically active until 1829, when he made his last speech, in the house of lords.  Ironically, it concerned the Catholic question, the issue which had brought down his old friend.  Addington was still firmly opposed, though parliament was now ready to pass the Catholic Emancipation Act.