Down through the twelfth century, politics were as much, if not more, the affairs of personalities and families as the affairs of state. One corollary of this premise is that certain women, as creators of family ties and managers of households, can be shown to have exercised more effective real power than traditional legal and institutional approaches to the medieval period have brought to light. As an instrument of long-term policy, marriage politics were fraught with uncertainties, but when dominant and powerful personages were able to capitalize on opportunities, the resultant alliances could prove effective in the realization of precise political aims. A re-examination of the available evidence for the career of Adela, daughter of William the Conqueror and countess of Blois, Chartres, and Meaux, from the perspective of family politics reveals that the Anglo-Norman – Thibaudian alliance, confirmed in her marriage to the eldest son of count Thibaud of Blois-Chartres, was actualized by Adela as an effective determinant of political action in the nearly twenty years she acted as the acknowledged head of the Thibaudian family.

The several statutes passed between 1534 and 1544 devoted to the rebuilding of decayed urban housing, collectively known as the Rebuilding Statutes, have been drawn upon in at least two scholarly debates about English government and economic life in the sixteenth century. First, in his discussion of Thomas Cromwell and the Henrician government's efforts to respond to economic and social problems, Professor (now Sir) Geoffrey Elton identified these statutes as important examples of central government initiative. Elton traced the inception of these acts to complaints about the state of housing brought by individuals at court and by the M.P.s of several individual towns. He saw the legislation itself as an example of the central government empowering individual towns to attend to the economic reality of decayed houses in their midst, and found it “an interesting precedent for local and private acts procedures (sic) of later days.” For Elton, then, the Rebuilding Statutes offered evidence of central government initiative in setting economic policy, a view intended to support his more general thesis about the primacy of the 1530s as a “revolutionary” point in the development English governing institutions. The same observation may be taken in support of Elton's later concept that Parliament, along with other central institutions, formed a “point of contact” with such particular and local interests as the towns listed in these statutes.

Historians and literary scholars have long agreed that the rate of change in English society in the seventeenth century was so great that only the label “revolution” can do justice to its magnitude. For the past hundred years, most historians who have written about the political upheavals of the middle decades of the century, for example, have taken it for granted that these events constituted a “revolution.” Indeed, the custom of referring to the political turmoil in England between 1640 and 1660 as the “English Revolution” is so established that many scholars would deny that they are relying upon an assumption at all, but would insist that they are simply stating an obvious fact. After 1660, most scholars agree, England's political and constitutional practices and presuppositions were fundamentally different from what they had been before 1640. The permanence of the change, combined with the extraordinary character of political events during the Interregnum, makes the label “revolution” the obvious and appropriate one.

To its late-Victorian participants, London “Society” was one of those abstractions, like “the young,” that deteriorated with each passing generation. For decades chroniclers of Britain's clannish ruling circles had lamented the diminishing refinement, morals, and breeding of those highest sections of elite society that migrated to the capital each spring for the parliamentary and social “season.” Thus, when the press, with many contributors from the aristocracy itself, launched a new campaign against London Society in the last years of Victoria's reign, the charges had a familiar ring. Society was expanding alarmingly, abandoning its standards, worshipping notoriety and opulence, and abdicating serious responsibilities in the pursuit of frivolous amusement. If the criticisms contained few surprises, the intensity of the alarm was unprecedented. Beginning in 1874, with The Way We Live Now, Anthony Trollope's novel of a greedy and credulous beau monde, and continuing through a series of journal articles bearing titles such as “The New Society,” “The Deterioration of English Society,” “The Sins of Society,” and “The Enlargement of London Society,” critics subjected the aristocratic elites and the informal institutions of the London season to fierce scrutiny and nearly universal diagnosis of advanced illness.