Apparently the brains working on devolution in England might lump Worcestershire County Council in with those of Herefordshire and Gloucestershire to create a new unitary authority.
Well, let’s just hope it works better than last time.
Because the 1970s stroke of genius to launch Hereford and Worcester County Council as the single administration unit for the two counties lasted a fairly fractious 24 years before being dissolved in 1998.
Where to build the new HQ turned out to be the least of its problems.
The idea was bigger is better but that’s not always the case.
Mind you, small is not necessarily the answer either.
Those who have a bee in their bonnets about corruption in very local government would have had a heyday with the goings-on in Worcester in the early 1800s.
Because before the Municipal Reform Act of 1835 the city was run by a closed-shop corporation and when the system was finally overhauled this self-important body was found to be as bent as a nine-bob note.
It had been an entirely self-elected group with vacancies being filled at the will of the surviving members.
Therefore the vast majority of citizens had no say in local government.
It was also chosen on social grounds and was generally considered the best club in Worcester.
Civic banquets were frequent, the costs being met from council funds.
The corporation consisted of two groups, the Twentyfour and the Fortyeight.
The first were the inner circle of the old self-elected corporation, a system which continued until relatively recently with the office of alderman.
The Fortyeight, or common council, were similar to today’s councillors, except things were run on closed-shop lines and no ‘reformers’ were allowed in.
Each group had its own special rendezvous.
The Twentyfour met at the Globe in Powick Lane while the Fortyeight met at the Talbot on The Cross which later became a bank, then a club and then the Westminster Bank, now NatWest.
Later the Fortyeight moved to the Pheasant in New Street where they had their own bowling green and cock fighting pit.
However, at the elections following the 1835 act the fertiliser hit the fan.
With the ‘no-reformers’ restriction removed, all but two of the 36 seats on the new council were filled by reformers and they began going through the books.
Perhaps to no great surprise it was found the old council’s balance sheet didn’t.
Far from showing the claimed credit of £1,028 it was actually £1,170 in the red.
To redress the matter the reformers committed sacrilege.
They sold off the contents of the Guildhall wine cellars, including the old port which was the special glory of the aldermen and ‘special citizens’.
It went by auction to the highest bidder and fetched 64 shillings per dozen bottles.
This wasn’t the first time the corporation had been in debt either.
In 1822 it had been obliged to borrow £50 each from 20 members to balance the books and in 1824 it was decided to suspend the mayor’s feasts which was a very public admission something was financially up.
However, one feature the corporation did have in its favour was its HQ, the Guildhall in High Street.
When completed in 1723 it was regarded as one of the finest civic buildings in the country.
Sadly, the same can’t be said for the old Hereford and Worcester CC mission control which currently sits rotting up Spetchley Road.