JULIAN Amery, the Conservative MP, was born a hundred years ago this month. And it is 50 years since the by-election which saw him returned as MP for Brighton Pavilion.

The vacancy arose when Sir William Teeling, MP for Pavilion since the seat was created in 1950, fell foul of the local Conservatives and resigned. Several able local Tories were on the shortlist including the progressive Brighton councillor Ronald Bates and the East Sussex leader John Lovill.

But Amery, who had been a minister in Harold Macmillan’s government, impressed the Pavilion Tories with his wide political experience.

He also had a considerable advantage in his wife, Catherine, who was Macmillan’s daughter.

Amery easily won the by-election at which the Labour candidate Tom Skeffington-Lodge was a notable Brighton eccentric and 14 years older than him. His name was often used as an address by the satirical magazine Private Eye.

He seemed the obvious candidate to become Foreign Secretary when Edward Heath won the general election in 1970. But Heath, who took pride in his record as a moderniser, thought Amery with his drawling Churchilllan speech was a relic from the past. He made Amery Housing Minister which prompted a furious reaction from a Labour MP who lived in a rented terraced house. He asked how Amery could possibly understand what life was like for millions of people in Britain.

Amery replied that he too lived in a rented terraced house but neglected to add that it was in Eaton Square, Belgravia.

He had made no secret about regarding himself as a statesman rather than what he called a large-scale local councillor.

Andrew Bowden, the newly-elected MP for Kemptown, added that he represented Brighton while Amery represented the world.

There were constant complaints from constituents that Amery did not even live locally although he did have a cottage on his father-in-law’s estate at Birch Grove near East Grinstead.

The irony was that because Amery was so well connected, he often received a better response to constituents’ problems than hard working local MPs. Amery had been used to political life from the start.

His father, Leo, was a cabinet minister at times between the wars and discussions were often held at his home.

Julian Amery’s war service, well chronicled in his book Approach March, included being parachuted behind enemy lines in Albania. It was almost impossibly adventurous and nothing he achieved subsequently ever quite lived up to it.

He became MP for Preston and held several posts before losing the seat in the 1966 general election.

Amery was an imperialist in foreign affairs and in later years may have thought he would rescue Britain from Communism in much the same way as Churchill had against the Nazis. He drank a lot as many contemporaries did but always seemed happy drinking whereas Catherine often looked gaunt and sad.

But there was no one who could match his knowledge of world affairs and when Margaret Thatcher became Prime Minister she often used him to sort out awkward diplomatic problems.

Amery had met almost everyone of note. But he always had time to hear other people’s points of view and kept old friends.

On polling day he would tour the constituency in an open topped vehicle before waiting for the result at the Dome. By this time he had usually drunk a lot but had perfected a way of standing so that he did not fall over.

Left-wingers in the audience would shout: “Your brother was a traitor” at him and this must-have hurt. But it was true. John Amery had helped the broadcaster William Joyce, often known as Lord Hawhaw, with his treacherous talks. Sentenced to death, he greeted the hangman Albert Pierrepoint with the words: “I’ve always wanted to meet you but not in these circumstances.”

Julian Amery retired in 1992 after invariably winning Pavilion by substantial majorities. He did not live long enough to see it won by Labour and later by the Greens.

He had one little surprise left. On becoming a peer, he took the title of Lord Amery of Lustleigh – a little known Devon village.

At his funeral service in London, a few adventurous looking types mingled with the men in suits as if to demonstrate that Amery was to some extent a man of mystery.

Winston Churchill, grandson of the wartime prime minister, recalled one favourite quote from Amery.

It was: ‘Between the revolution and the firing squad, there is always time for a bottle of champagne.’