THE last fortnight has seen the tide of Tory personal and political corruption surging ever higher, with blackmail, sexual indiscretions, financial impropriety, and landing colleagues in the soup all on the menu.

The behaviour of the now-whipless William Wragg, and Mark Menzies (“allegedly”) make one wonder whether the Tories, dreading imminent electoral wipeout, are intent on recreating the decadence of the 18^th century Hellfire Club, or more recently, the final frantic orgiastic partying of the Nazi elite in the Berlin of April 1945 just before the Russians arrived.

I could throw in a reference to the last days of Antony and Cleopatra in Alexandria, awaiting the conquering Octavian by drowning their sorrows in “Inimitable Livers Club,” but that would be far too romantic a comparison for the squalid fin-de-siecle antics of the Conservative and Unionist Party.