Profile of a Scoundrel: The rise and fall of Ernest Marples

In this free post, I look back at one of the most colourful Tory politicians of the post-war period - whose career came to a sticky end.

Picture: Ernest Marples. Source: Wikipedia.

Profile of a Scoundrel: The rise and fall of Ernest Marples

by Lee David Evans

When prime minister Winston Churchill asked Harold Macmillan to become Minister for Housing in 1951 and ‘build the homes for the people', the premier warned Macmillan that it would ‘make or mar’ his political career. Macmillan took the comment seriously and, keen to succeed in the role, sought a talented and able deputy in the department. He picked Ernest Marples. Together, they smashed the government’s target of building 300,000 new homes per year. But who was he?

Ernest Marples was one of the most colourful Conservative MPs of the post-war era. A working-class Tory, the nearest he came to a country house upbringing was his grandfather’s work as a gardener at Chatsworth (where Macmillan’s in-laws lived). After school, he left his humble roots behind and made serious money in property development before founding a construction firm which built, among other things, power stations. Once he had made his name in business, Marples set his sights on politics.

In 1945 Marples was elected as the Tory MP for Wallasey, held by the party even during Labour’s landslide victory at the polls. (Anybody who knows Wallasey politics today will find this surprising; it remained a safe Labour seat during the substantial Conservative victory in 2019). Once on the green benches, Marples soon earned a name for himself. For one thing he stood out in appearance from his fellow Tory MPs; instead of a traditional black lounge suit with formal trousers, he wore eccentric blue suits and orange-brown shoes.

Notoriety as an eccentric dresser was neither the limit of Marples’ ambition nor his ability. He transformed himself into a substantial political figure by arguing for a more ambitious housing policy during the 1950 Conservative conference. By the end of the party’s annual jamboree, Marples was synonymous with the Tory dream of home ownership. Macmillan noticed and after the 1951 election offered him promotion to the housing department. Macmillan was pleased with his choice: 'in Marples I had a colleague of outstanding loyalty and devotion. He was, moreover, a man of infinite resources, great ingenuity and untiring energy.'

Beyond his boss at housing, however, few others saw Marples’ talents and as Macmillan worked his way up the greasy pole his deputy’s career faltered. Marples’ luck turned when Macmillan became prime minister in January 1957 and asked him to serve as Postmaster-General and deliver the roll-out of premium bonds. Having been judged a success in the role, he was promoted to the cabinet as Minister of Transport following the 1959 election.

Marples’ in-tray at Transport was dominated by the rapidly growing number of cars on the road. He authorised the creation of a full-scale network of motorways across the country, yellow no-parking lines and parking meters. As Britain took to four wheels, Marples considered what to do about other forms of transport. In one of the most fateful decisions made by any transport minister, he brought in Dr Beeching to review the future of Britain’s railway network. Beeching’s name has been spat out with venom by public transport enthusiasts ever since, thanks to his recommended closure of 2,000 stations and 5,000 miles of track. But to be fair to Beeching, advisers advise and ministers decide - and Marples decided to back him.

His role in gutting Britain’s railway network would have always marred Marples’ career, but worse was to come. Following the Profumo affair, Lord Denning undertook an inquiry into the wider ramifications of the sex scandal and possible risks to security. Denning told Macmillan of a cabinet minister who consorted with prostitutes and risked discrediting the government. It was Marples. Denning's former secretary recorded that the Transport Minister liked to be whipped while dressed in women's clothing.

Marples’ name was kept out of the report. He avoided public humiliation and, rather remarkably, even kept his job. But over the next few years his career slumped. He was dropped from the shadow cabinet after the Tories’ 1966 electoral drubbing, played no role in government from 1970-4, and finally left the Commons in the February 1974 election to become Baron Marples of Wallasey. He might have expected a quiet retirement on the red benches, but years of poor judgement caught up with him: tenants in his properties threatened to sue him; a bank did sue him; and HMRC demanded nearly 30 years' unpaid taxes on a property in London. To make matters worse, the former Minister of Transport was convicted of drink driving.

A burdened man facing financial ruin, in early 1975 the ignoble Lord fled to Monaco - just before the end of the tax year. He would eventually make some settlements with HMRC, but chiefly remained on the continent until he died in 1978 at the Princess Grace Hospital in Monte Carlo. From the vantage point of the end of his career, Marples’ contribution to politics appears undistinguished. In many ways it was. But at times he showed himself to be a minister of genuine zeal and competence. As with so many other talented men, his own misdemeanours proved his undoing.

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