The Fens, the low-lying area to the south of the Wash, had always been little more than marshland or, at best, prone to regular flooding. Although he had a vested interest in stressing the barrenness of this strange landscape, the engineer, Sir Cornelius Vermuyden, described it in 1642 with the eye of an expert.
The Level is broad, and of great extent, and flat, with little or no descent of its own, and grown full of hassocks, sedge, and reed, and the rivers full of weeds; and the waters go slowly away from the lands and out of the rivers, and they come swift into and upon it out of the upland counties, where the rivers have a great fall.C. Vermuïden, A Discourse touching the Drayning the Great Fennes (1642, E.143.14), 5.
Over the centuries a distinctive way of life had evolved here to make the most of these difficult conditions. That had all changed in the 1630s when Charles I had sponsored the most radical of all possible solutions to the hardships imposed by this landscape the draining of the Great Level. This vast project, far more ambitious than earlier reclamation schemes, was begun in 1631 by a consortium headed by the 4th earl of Bedford (Sir Francis Russell†). Vermuyden summed up the case for the project when he argued that
The soil of this vast country is moorish, gathered and grown up higher by weeds and ouse of the waters, many of them are rich grounds, and all would (if they were well drained) be very profitable and become good grounds, especially after they be burned, manured, and husbanded as such grounds should be.Vermuïden, Discourse, 6.
Unsatisfied with the progress made by Bedford and his partners, the king had taken over the scheme in 1638, employing Vermuyden to finish the job.
The liberty of the Isle of Ely was a territorial unit which predated the Norman Conquest. Essentially the estates of the bishop and the cathedral chapter of Ely, it covered the hundreds of Ely, North and South Witchford, and Wisbech, and thus included most of the fenland within Cambridgeshire. The Reformation had left the liberty as something of an administrative hybrid. The bishop’s men had still, in many respects, been able to govern it as if it was his own personal fiefdom. The duties of the chief bailiff, his senior officer within the liberty, were similar to those of a sheriff elsewhere, and an episcopal official, the chief justice, presided at the local assizes. There was a separate commission of the peace.
Yet the powers of the sheriff of Cambridgeshire did not always stop at the River Ouse and no distinction was made between the two halves of the county for tax purposes. From March 1654 commissioners exercised the powers hitherto enjoyed by the bishops within the liberty.
The liberty had never previously had separate representation. Ely, as a borough, had once, in 1295, sent MPs to Parliament, but thereafter had been the only cathedral city in England not represented at Westminster. Wisbech had never been a parliamentary constituency. The decision to enfranchise the Isle as part of the redistribution of seats in the Instrument of Government of 1653 fitted neatly into the policy of increasing country representation at the expense of the boroughs. In Cambridgeshire, which had hitherto returned two MPs, there were now six – four for Cambridgeshire, which was now deemed to cover only those areas south of the Ouse, and two for the Isle of Ely. Elsewhere, these six MPs would simply have been elected by the whole county, but the historic anomaly of the Ely liberty allowed subdivision here. Something similar occurred with regard to Hampshire and the Isle of Wight, and to the county palatine of Durham, the greatest of all the former episcopal liberties.
With no precedents to draw on, the organisation of the first election within the Isle of Ely required tact and diplomacy. But George Glapthorne*, who as chief bailiff was the designated returning officer, was intent only on using his powers to promote his own personal interests. He was an unpopular figure in the area. As an agent of both the king and the earl of Bedford, he had played a leading part in the drainage of the Great Level, and in 1641 he and another Bedford agent, Francis Underwood, had been the focus of complaints by the residents of their home parish of Whittlesey.
Glapthorne, however, announced his intention to challenge Underwood for the junior place. Complaints later submitted to the council of state reveal that Glapthorne resorted to every possible underhand tactic. It was alleged that he used the under-bailiffs to intimidate the voters; that he decided to hold the election at Wisbech, where his support was strongest, but gave the impression to Underwood’s supporters that it would be held at Ely; that at the poll on 12 July he replaced one of the clerks with one of his own men; that he disallowed some of Underwood’s supporters who were qualified to vote, while allowing some of his own supporters who were not; that a horde of drunken Glapthorne followers discouraged the Underwood supporters from voting; that he closed the poll before all the votes had been cast, and that he had refused to allow Underwood to see the pollbooks.
This result was immediately contested. A petition criticising Glapthorne’s behaviour and signed by 357 inhabitants was submitted to the council of state.
Glapthorne responded by attacking Underwood. He contrasted his own selfless service for Parliament during the civil war with the large estate Underwood had meanwhile acquired for himself. He then accused Underwood of working with another army officer, Richard Harrison, who had allegedly nursed a grudge ever since Glapthorne had accused him of embezzling public funds during the civil war. Harrison had used these ill-gotten gains to buy some fenland, thereby defrauding the inhabitants, and then telling them that it was Glapthorne who planned to drain their lands. Glapthorne claimed the petitions against him were organised by Underwood and Harrison in a malicious attempt to defame his good name.
If, as seems likely, Glapthorne’s enemies had hoped to discredit him as chief bailiff, they failed. As well as retaining this position, he was evidently regarded by his superiors as an effective public servant. During the next parliamentary elections in 1656 the deputy major-general for East Anglia, Hezekiah Haynes*, relied heavily on him for advice about developments in the Isle of Ely. In early July, even before the writs for the new Parliament had been issued, Haynes visited Wisbech to sound out opinion there. He made a point of consulting Glapthorne and the town’s lecturer, William Sheldrake.
Meanwhile, some at Wisbech were trying to persuade Haynes to stand. Haynes was cautious. At this stage everyone agreed that Thurloe would get the senior seat. The one other person who had expressed an interest in standing was William Fisher*, a local gentleman who had probably refused to serve the commonwealth following the regicide. Fisher expected backing from Thurloe, even though, as Haynes told Thurloe, ‘his compliance to your desires will certainly be forced’.
With election day at Wisbech approaching, Haynes paid another visit to the town. En route he happened to meet Fisher’s son, who assured him that he had tried to dissuade his father from standing, but that Fisher had found ‘the solicitations of friends so strong, and his own engagements to the country so great, that he could not decline it’.
The restoration of the old franchises in 1658 brought to an end the Isle of Ely’s brief existence as a separate constituency. It once again counted as part of Cambridgeshire. Even after 1832 no attempt was made to revive the Isle as a county for parliamentary elections. It was not until 1918 that the ancient boundaries of the liberty were used to form the new county constituency of the Isle of Ely.
Number of voters: not known.
