The sheer workload. That’s the first big surprise in Matthew Laban’s absorbing history of the Speakership since 1945. Typically, the Speaker rises at dawn and holds several hours of preparatory meetings before parliamentary business starts after lunch. Though helped by two deputies, the Speaker must remain on duty into the small hours.
Loneliness and overwork have created casualties. Horace King (1965-1971) liked an early-evening stiffener consisting of half a pint of sherry enlivened with four fingers of Armagnac. As he staggered towards his ceremonial perch one night, he was heckled by Labour’s chief whip, Bob Mellish. ‘Horace, I’ll have you out of that chair within three months.’ ‘How can you get me out,’ slurred the Speaker, ‘when I can hardly get myself into it.’
Myths accrue around the Speakership. Like judges, Speakers are assumed to be the slaves of historic precedent, but in practice a fleet-footed Speaker is able to clothe any spur-of-the-moment decision in the garb of immemorial antiquity.
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