Parliament

There are enough fascinating and scandalous anecdotes about the Houses of Parliament to fill a hundred editions of the Sun (UK's edition of The Inquirer), let alone a single blog post.  How's this for starters: it is illegal (or, highly frowned upon) for a member of Parliament to compare another MP to any type of animal.  It is also against Parliament etiquette for one representative to accuse another member of being drunk.  


Or there's this one: when Members of Parliament have a formal vote, (that is, they must within exactly eight minutes of hearing the signal, position themselves in either the "aye" or the "no" chamber), the signal rings not only in every room in Parliament, but also nearby pubs and restaurants-- just in case the representative has stepped out for a quick pint.


Speaking of quick pints, Great Fire of 1834 can be traced right back to the local pub.  You see, when the Exchequer found that he needed to dispose of two cart-loads of wooden tally sticks, he called upon two work men to burn them in two stoves underneath the House of Lords.  Having received the order from above, the Clerk of Works assigned two more-brawn-than-brains types to take care of the task.  Well, as soon as they had stuffed all of the tally stick into the furnace, the two men stepped out for a pint, not bothering to make sure the furnace incinerated the sticks properly.  Thanks to the affinity of the two workmen for ill-timed libation, most of the Palace of Westminster was engulfed in flames and ultimately lost.  The fire destroyed both Houses of Parliament (Commons and Lords) as well as most of the surrounding buildings.  Westminster Hall, one of the most magnificent remnants of early-European architecture, as well as the Jewel Tower, Undercroft Chapel, the Cloisters, and the Chapter House of St. Stephen's survived largely unscathed.


After the fire, the task of rebuilding the Palace of Westminster was entrusted to Charles Barry.  Our tour guide described the result as "the Victorians trying to look Gothic".  Barry's efforts represent, in my extremely uninformed opinion, a pointed success.  In my mind, the Palace of Westminster rivals Versailles in terms of architectural sophistication and that awe-inspiring factor that all the monarchs were going for back in the day.  


During the Blitz, the Palace of Westminster withstood another beating.  One of the more sobering moments of the tour snuck up on our group as we approached the House of Commons, where the elected members of Parliament sit.  During the Blitz, the House of Commons was ravaged.  During the reconstruction of the building, Winston Churchill chose not to wipe away every memory of such somber times, but leave the battered archway as the entrance to the House, hoping to keep the memory of those who perished in the war fresh in the public psyche.


More so than any other monument I've visited so far, Parliament puts its visitors through an emotional gauntlet.  You laugh at tales of the antics of monarchs, you squeal in horror at the thought of a decapitation occurring just where you are standing, and most are brought back down to a sober reality at the sight of the abused entryway to the House of Commons.