“A NEW SONG; BEING A POETICAL PETITION TO THE KING.
“Good Sir, I crave pity, bad is my condition:
You’ve sworn to relieve me, as I understand;
To tell you the whole, pray read this Petition;
My name you know is Old England:
Tho’ you’ve receiv’d many, and not answer’d any,
I hope Old England’s will not be forgot,
For if you deny me, the land will despise ye—
’Twas King Charles the First by the axe went to pot.
My right arm is wounded, and Middlesex county
I always esteem’d the bloom of my plumb.
And murd’rers have got a pardon and bounty,
From this precious arm they have torn a thumb;
For Wilkes is took from me, such wrongs have they done me,
They’ve alter’d records unto their disgrace;
’Tis thus that they’ve done, and a bastard son,
While my darling’s in prison, now sits in his place.
My head is wounded, if such a thing can be,
My troubles are such that I can take no rest;
Two sons are ta’en from me, Great Camden and Granby,
And to the world they have left me distrest:
For Granby’s a soldier, none better or bolder,
And Camden’s a lawyer in justice well known,
In law had such power, took Wilkes from the Tower,
These, these are the children I ne’er will disown.
So read my Petition, good Sir; ’tis not tattle,
But matter of consequence, you’ll understand;
And answer me not, Sir, about horned cattle,
Pray what’s a few beasts, to the peace of the land?
The land has been injur’d, our rights they’ve infringed,
And loud for redress it behoves us to call,
For should we let trespass, like an indolent ass,
With Middlesex then all our rights they must fall.
Our land it is ruled by rogues, roughs, and bullies,
In the nation’s confusion they go hand in hand,
Sharps, gamblers, profuse and extravagant cullies,
A very odd set for to govern the land:
Here’s Bute, we hear, dying, his mistress for him crying,
Her son he has learnt the same fiddle to play;
For he touches the string, in disgrace to the king,
But his mother has taught him—why what?—shall we say?”
In the March of the year following, after awaiting a response for nearly twelve months, the Livery of the city resolved to draw up a further and more stringent remonstrance; and a meeting was held under the Right Hon. William Beckford, elected lord mayor for the second time, in the interval. In his address “to the Supreme Court of the whole City,” the real dangers which menaced the State were by Beckford traced to their true source, “the comprehensive violation of the right of election”—
“to preserve which right, the Crown had been justly taken from James the Second, and been placed by the people of England on the head of William the Third, and conferred on His Majesty’s family. That the corruption of the people’s representatives was the cause and foundation of all our grievances. That we have now only the name of a parliament, without the substance.”
He observed how improper it was for placemen and pensioners to sit in the House of Commons; “for if a man was not fit to be a Juryman, or a Judge in a cause where he was interested, how much less to be a Senator and justify his peculation.” “He complained of the unequal and inadequate representation of the people, by means of the little, rotten, paltry boroughs.” In the remonstrance drawn up on this occasion, the wrongs of the people were again eloquently urged, and it was especially pointed out that the House of Commons, by the venal majority—
“had deprived the people of their dearest rights. They have done a deed more ruinous in its consequence than the levying of ship-money by Charles the First, or the dispensing power assumed by James the Second. A deed which must vitiate all the future proceedings of this parliament; for the acts of the legislature itself can no more be valid without a legal House of Commons than without a legal prince upon the throne.
“Representatives of the people are essential to the making of laws, and there is a time when it is morally demonstrable that men cease to be representatives. That time is now arrived. The present House of Commons do not represent the people. We owe to your Majesty an obedience under the restriction of the laws, for the calling and duration of Parliaments; and your Majesty owes to us, that our representation, free from the force of arms or corruption, should be preserved to us in them.
“The forms of the Constitution, like those of Religion, were not established for form’s sake, but for the substance. And we call God and man to witness that we do not owe our Liberty to those nice and subtle distinctions, which places, and pensions, and lucrative employments have invented; so neither will we be cheated of it by them, but as it was gained by the stern virtue of our ancestors, by the virtue of their descendants it shall be preserved.
“Since, therefore, the misdeeds of your Majesty’s ministers in violating the freedom of Election, and depraving the noble constitution of Parliaments are notorious, as well as subversive of the fundamental Laws and Liberties of this Realm; and since your Majesty, both in honour and justice, is obliged inviolably to preserve them according to the Oath made to God and your subjects at your Coronation; we, your remonstrants, assure ourselves that your Majesty will restore the constitutional Government and quiet of your people, by DISSOLVING this Parliament, and removing those evil ministers FOR EVER from your councils.”
This manly and righteous remonstrance was presented after many pettifogging slights and indignities, vexations, and subterfuges on the part of the Court and Crown; and there were made various attempts to bring into discredit the authenticity of this document as the expression of the Court of Aldermen. The Corporation of the city, in sixty carriages, proceeded with the various officers to the palace of St. James’s, and were received by the king on his throne. The remonstrance was read; and, in reply, His Majesty read an answer, drawn up in advance, condemning both the former petition and the present remonstrance in unmistakable terms, and ending with an assurance that “he had ever made the law of the land the rule of his conduct, esteeming it his chief glory to rule over a free people;” and then, descending into more palpable falsehoods, asserting, in the face of facts, with a power of dissimulation worthy of Charles II:—
“with this view I have always been careful, as well to execute faithfully the trust reposed in me, as to avoid even the appearance of invading any of those powers which the Constitution has placed in other hands.”
The king was evidently the puppet of more vicious minds, being blessed with but a feeble reasoning faculty of his own. After reading his equivocative answer, and as the lord mayor and the city representatives were withdrawing, the vacuity of his intellect made itself manifest—for it is asserted in contemporaneous accounts, “His Majesty instantly turned round to his courtiers, and burst out laughing. Nero fiddled while Rome was burning.”
The reception accorded to these petitions being far from such as their gravity demanded, fresh agitations commenced in the metropolis and in the provinces, and, on March 30th, Horne Tooke delivered a remarkable address to the freeholders of the county of Middlesex, in which he graphically described both the murders he had seen committed and the conduct of the justices of the peace, who said the ministerial instructions were for the soldiers to fire, and referred to the partiality shown on the trials and the defences made at the expense of Government when it was endeavoured to bring the guilty to justice. At this meeting, “An Address, Remonstrance, and Petition of the Freeholders of Middlesex” was drawn up for presentation, in which it was urged on the king—
“that a secret and malignant influence had thwarted and defeated almost every measure which had been attempted for the benefit of his subjects, and had given rise to measures totally subversive of the Liberties and Constitution of these once flourishing and happy kingdoms.”
“It is not for any light or common grievances that we presume thus repeatedly to interrupt your Majesty’s quiet with our complaints. It is not the illegal oppression of an individual; it is not the partial invasion of our property; it is not the violation of any single law of which we complain, but it is a violation which at one stroke deprives us of the only constitutional security of our Fortunes, Liberties, and Lives.
“Your Majesty’s servants have attacked our Liberties in the most vital part; they have torn away the heart-strings of the Constitution, and have made those men our destruction, whom the laws have appointed as the immediate guardians of our Rights and Liberties.
“The House of Commons, by their determination at the last election for this county, have assumed a power to overrule at pleasure the fundamental Right of Election, which the Constitution has placed in other hands, those of their Constituents, and from whence alone their whole authority is derived; a power by which the law of the land is at once overturned and resolved into the will and pleasure of a majority of one House of Parliament. And if this pretended power is exercised to the full extent of the principles, that House can no longer be a Representative of the people, but a separate body, altogether independent of them, self-existing, and self-elected.
“These proceedings have totally destroyed the confidence of your Majesty’s subjects in one essential branch of the legislative power, and if that branch is chosen in a manner not agreeable to the laws and constitution of the kingdom, the authority of Parliament itself must suffer extremely, if not totally perish.”
The remonstrance from which the above paragraphs are extracted was, together with a petition from the county of Kent, presented to His Majesty at St. James’s; both being received and handed to the lord of the bedchamber in waiting; but no answer was returned.
The electors of the city of Westminster also drew up a similar “Address, Remonstrance, and Petition”—
“their former application to the throne having been ineffectual, and new and exorbitant grievances being beyond patient endurance. By the same secret and unhappy influence to which all our grievances have been originally owing, the redress of those grievances has been now prevented; and the grievances themselves have been repeatedly confirmed; with this additional circumstance of aggravation, that while the invaders of our rights remain the directors of your Majesty’s councils, the defenders of those rights have been dismissed from your Majesty’s service—your Majesty having been advised by your ministers to remove from his employment, for his vote in Parliament, the highest officer of the Law (Lord Camden), because his principles suited ill with theirs, and his pure distribution of justice with their corrupt administration of the House of Commons.
“We beg leave, therefore, again to represent to your Majesty that the House of Commons have struck at the most valuable liberties and franchises of all the electors of Great Britain; and by assuming to themselves a right of choosing, instead of receiving a member when chosen, and by transferring to the representative what belonged to the constituent, they have taken off from the dignity, and, we fear, impaired the authority of Parliament itself.
“We presume again, therefore, humbly to implore from your Majesty the only remedies which are in any way proportioned to the nature of the evil; that you would be graciously pleased to dismiss for ever from your councils those ministers who are ill-suited by their dispositions to preserve the principles of a free, or by their capacities to direct the councils of a great and mighty kingdom; And that by speedily dissolving the present Parliament, your Majesty will show by your own example, and by their dissolution, the rights of your people are to be inviolable, and that you will never necessitate so many injured, and, by such treatment, exasperated subjects, to continue the care of their interests to those from whom they must withdraw their confidence; to repose their invaluable privileges in the hand of those who have sacrificed them; and their trust in those who have betrayed it.
“We find ourselves compelled to urge, with the greatest importunity, this our humble but earnest application, as every day seems to produce the confirmation of some old, or to threaten the introduction of some new injury. We have the strongest reason to apprehend that the usurpation begun by the House of Commons upon the right of electing, may be extended to the right of petitioning, and that under the pretence of restraining the abuse of this right, it is meant to bring into disrepute, and to intimidate us from the exercise of the right itself.”
The representatives elected by the people had done their utmost, as respected the venal majority, to betray their trust and those who had sent them to the Commons. Resistance was countenanced, and, by counter-addresses to the throne, the king was prejudiced against listening to the wishes of the people. This remonstrance elicited his Majesty’s reply “that he would lay it before his Parliament;” a curious conclusion, inasmuch as his afflicted subjects specially prayed therein that the king would be their safeguard against the majority in that body, who had betrayed the nation, and to the deliberation of that corrupted assembly the complaint—which affected the duration of the House—was to be submitted for redress! The remonstrance, which resembled an impeachment of the administration, was, in fact, handed to the ministers under accusation, to be by them resisted, prosecuted, or rendered ineffective at their discretion. The indignant judgments enunciated by “Junius” against these unprincipled politicians, foes to the kingdom, have been abundantly confirmed by the verdict of posterity.
The reception otherwise accorded to the Westminster remonstrance was altogether undignified. When the deputation, headed by Sir Robert Bernard, who had been returned member for that city by the unanimous suffrage of the constituency, arrived at the palace gate, an extra guard of soldiers was immediately turned out, not, however, as a compliment, for—
“although there was not the least appearance of anything disorderly, yet the soldiers behaved in a most insolent manner, and struck many persons with their bayonets, and that without provocation. The Gentlemen having alighted from their carriages, amidst the acclamations of the people, walked through the lane of soldiers, and went upstairs to the Levee Room door, where they were met by one of the Grooms of the Bedchamber, who asked Sir Robert Bernard if he had anything to present to his Majesty? To which Sir Robert replied, ‘Yes, the Address, Remonstrance, and Petition of the City of Westminster.’ Upon which the Groom of the Bedchamber said, ‘He would go and acquaint the Lord-in-Waiting.’ He went immediately, but not returning soon, Sir Robert Bernard proposed to go into the Levee Room, which he did. On opening the door, the same Groom of the Bedchamber said he could not find the Lord-in-Waiting; but should soon. However, the Gentlemen went on, and after some time the Lord-in-Waiting came to them, and said, if they had anything to deliver to his Majesty, he would receive it in the next room, whither they accordingly went; and after some time, his Majesty coming into the room, Sir Robert presented the Remonstrance open. His Majesty delivered it to the Lord-in-Waiting, who delivered it to another, who handed it to the Groom of the Bedchamber, and he carried it off.”
The recreant majority of the Commons, still at the bidding of degraded ministers, continued to address the king with counter-petitions intended to bring into disrepute the remonstrances of the people—those very constituents who had chosen them as the defenders of their liberties.
Finally, another effort was made by the city, and a general assembly was held for that purpose, when the chief magistrate, the Court of Aldermen, and Common Council resolved to renew their petition, and further to consider the king’s “answer.”
“A motion was then made, that the thanks of this Court be given to Lord Chatham for his late conduct in Parliament, and for his zeal shown for the most sacred Rights of Election and of petitioning, and for the promise of his endeavours to support an independent and more equal representation.”
On a motion denouncing the most unbecoming treatment which the city of London had of late experienced from his Majesty’s ministers, it was suggested to draw up the strongest remonstrance possible on the violated right of election. Upon which, Alderman Wilkes, remarking upon the peculiar delicacy of his situation, said—
“that he would not mention a syllable about the person excluded; but if the House of Commons could seat any gentlemen among them who was not chosen by the people, the constitution was torn up by the roots, and the people had lost their share in the legislative power; that the disabling any person from sitting in Parliament, who was not disqualified by law, was an injury to every County, City, and Borough, and a dissolution of the form of government established by law in this Kingdom.”
The recorder cavilled at certain spirited expressions in the drawing-up of the remonstrance, particularly respecting the king’s answer, which he declared could not be considered an act of the ministers, but must be held to be the king’s personally. The committee was shocked at the recorder’s bringing home to the king one of the most unconstitutional acts of his ministry, and without one dissentient voice determined to overrule the objection of the recorder, whereon this functionary protested against the remonstrance in strong terms as a Libel. Alderman Wilkes then rose and mentioned his unwillingness to speak again, but he was forced to it by the recorder’s declaration that the remonstrance was a libel; that he too claimed to know something of the nature of a libel; that he did not speak from theory only, but had bought much experience on that subject; that the remonstrance was founded throughout on known and glaring facts, every word bearing the stamp of truth; that the particular act complained of in the violated right of election was a malicious and wilful act of the majority in the House of Commons, for the minister had declared, that “if any person had only four votes for Middlesex, he should be the sitting member for the county!” The lord mayor, Beckford, confirmed Wilkes’s assertion, concluding, “I was then present in the House of Commons.”
The remonstrance was accordingly presented; in it astonishment was expressed at the censure lately passed by the throne upon the faithful and afflicted citizens, laying their complaints and injuries at the feet of their Sovereign, as the father of his people, able and willing to redress their grievances.
The concluding paragraph was very much to the purpose, and displayed no diminution of firmness:—
“Your Majesty cannot disapprove that we here assert the clearest principles of the constitution against the insidious attempts of evil counsellors to perplex, confound, and shake them. We are determined to abide by those rights and liberties, which our forefathers bravely vindicated, at the ever-memorable Revolution, and which their sons will ever resolutely defend. We therefore now renew, at the foot of the throne, our claim to the indispensable right of the subject—a full, free, and unmutilated Parliament, legally chosen in all its members; a right which this House of Parliament have manifestly violated, depriving, at their will and pleasure, the county of Middlesex of one of its legal representatives, and arbitrarily nominating, as a Knight of the Shire, a person not elected by a majority of the freeholders. As the only constitutional means of reparation now left for the injured electors of Great Britain, we implore, with most urgent supplications, the dissolution of the present parliament, the removal of evil ministers, and the total extinction of that fatal influence which has caused such national discontent.
“In the meantime, Sire, we offer our constant prayers to Heaven, that your Majesty may reign, as Kings only can reign, in and by the hearts of a loyal, dutiful, and free people.”
To this remonstrance the king’s answer was:—
“I should have been wanting to the public as well as to myself, if I had not expressed my dissatisfaction at the late Address. My sentiments on that subject continue the same; and I should ill deserve to be considered as the father of my people, if I could suffer myself to be prevailed upon to make such an use of my prerogative as I cannot but think inconsistent with the interest and dangerous to the constitution of the kingdom.”
After His Majesty had been pleased to make the foregoing answer, the lord mayor requested leave to reply, which, being granted, Beckford made the dignified and noble response which is a matter of history:—
(“If worth allures thee, think how Beckford shone
Who dar’d to utter Truths before the throne.”)
“Most Gracious Sovereign—Will your Majesty be pleased so far to condescend as to permit the Mayor of your loyal City of London to declare in your Royal presence, on behalf of his fellow-citizens, how much the bare apprehension of your Majesty’s displeasure would at all times affect their minds. The declaration of that displeasure has already filled them with inexpressible anxiety, and with the deepest affliction.
“Permit me, Sire, to assure your Majesty that your Majesty has not in all your dominions any subjects more faithful, more dutiful, or more affectionate to your Majesty’s person and family, or more ready to sacrifice their lives and fortunes in the maintenance of the true honour and dignity of your Crown.
“We do, therefore, with the greatest humility and submission, most earnestly supplicate your Majesty, that you will not dismiss us from your presence without expressing a more favourable opinion of your faithful citizens, and without some comfort, without some prospect at least of redress.
“Permit me, Sire, further to observe, that whoever has already dared, or shall hereafter endeavour by false insinuations and suggestions, to alienate your Majesty’s affections from your loyal subjects in general and from the city of London in particular, and to withdraw your confidence in and regard for your people, is an enemy to your Majesty’s person and family, a violator of the public peace, and a betrayer of our happy Constitution, as it was established at the glorious revolution of 1688.”
At the conclusion of these expressions of enlightenment for the royal mind, the lord mayor waited more than a minute for a reply of “some more favourable opinion,” but none was given.
“On this occasion,” says the satirist, “Nero did not fiddle while Rome was burning.” The humility and serious firmness with which the dignified Beckford—who enjoyed the friendship of the great Earl of Chatham, and with whom he had many points in common—uttered these words, “filled the whole Court with admiration and confusion;” for they found very different countenances amongst the citizens than they expected from Lord Pomfret’s description, who declared in the House of Lords—
“that, however swaggering and impudent the behaviour of the low citizens might be on their own dunghill, when they came into the royal presence, their heads hung down like bulrushes, and they blinked with their eyes like owls in the sunshine of the sun.”
On the 19th of May, the king prorogued that parliament which, by approving addresses from both Houses, had fortified the royal censure returned to the popular remonstrances. “The prevalence of animosities and of dissensions among their fellow-subjects” was specially alluded to in his Majesty’s speech, while the conduct of both branches of his legislature received in return such flattering encomiums as their servile pliability had earned by despicable means:—
“The temper with which you have conducted all your proceedings has given me great satisfaction, and I promise myself the happiest effects from the firmness, as well as the moderation, which you have manifested in the very critical circumstances which have attended your late deliberations.”
However undignified the reception accorded at the time to these petitions addressed to the throne from its truest supporters, the good cause eventually triumphed, in defiance of the chicanery of counter-expressions of servility, fabricated at the instance of those whose prospects depended on the continuance in power of false politicians, despising alike the voice and interests of the people, and resting their reliance on the venality of their adherents, and the base instinct of self-aggrandisement at the expense of the state existent in minds equally mercenary with their own.
“Eventually the citizens succeeded, in spite of the united efforts of the Court, the Ministers, and the Parliament; and their cause has since been solemnly and universally recognized as that of the Constitution and of liberty. It is impossible to appreciate too highly the national importance of the conduct they pursued.”
It was well said by “Junius,” the integrity of whose sentiments bears more than a casual resemblance to the utterances of that patriotic statesman, Lord Chatham, with whose fame the authorship of Junius’s “Letters” may one day be identified:—
“The noble spirit of the metropolis is the life-blood of the state, collected at the heart; from that point it circulates with health and vigour through every artery of the Constitution.”
The great Chatham and his friend, William Beckford, stand out conspicuous from their fellow-men in association with that corrupt time when statescraft was for the most part a question of ability for debasing the largest number on the easiest terms contrivable; they lived at a time when liberty ran especial risks, and, as champions of popular rights, proved worthy of those emergencies with which they were confronted. In days when the chief magistrate of the city may degenerate to a subservient courtier, the history of Beckford’s firm attitude may be regarded as no longer the worthiest part of the civic traditions. That his fellow-citizens appreciated his exertions is shown by the thanks he received for his able and dignified speech to the king; his reply was ordered to be inserted in the city records, and afterwards, at his death, was inscribed on the monument erected in the Guildhall to his memory.
The blow struck at a corrupt administration by the Westminster and other remonstrances seems to have damped the ardour of the ministers; in any case, no Court candidate was put forward for Westminster in 1770, and consequently the election of a liberal candidate was unopposed.
On the 30th of April, at noon, came on at St. Paul’s, Covent Garden, the election of a representative in parliament for the City and Liberty of Westminster, in the room of the Hon. Edwin Sandys, created Lord Sandys. A considerable number of the electors assembled early in the morning at the “Standard Tavern” in Leicester Fields; and proceeded from thence with a band of music, etc., in procession through Piccadilly to the residence of Sir Robert Bernard, in Hamilton Street. When they came to Covent Garden, the whole square was full. Proclamation of silence being made, Sir John Hussey Delaval, Bart., addressing himself to the people, said—
“he rejoiced to see such a prodigious number of the Electors present, to support the nomination in Westminster Hall the previous Thursday; that Sir Robert Bernard had stood forward in support of the rights of the people in their just complaints against the late flagrant violation of their liberties; and concluded with observing, that they were come to confirm with their votes this their free and glorious choice.”
Lord Viscount Mountmorres seconded the motion in a spirited speech, in which he stated—
“the services and principles of Sir Robert Bernard; the grievances under which the people laboured; the great violation of their rights in the case of Middlesex; the impossibility that any king, that any parliament, that the courts of justice, or that all together, could annihilate the people’s constitutional rights.”
These speeches were received with acclamation by the twenty thousand people present, amongst whom strict good order was preserved.
The proper proclamations being made, and no other candidate appearing, the return was signed by the gentlemen present on the hustings. The election being entirely over, the gentlemen retired into the vestry-room, where the indenture was signed by them, and finally returned to the Crown Office. On the day following, Sir Robert Bernard was introduced into the House of Commons by the Hon. Henry Grenville and William Pulteney, and took his seat as member for Westminster. The Westminster returns being generally looked upon with interest by other constituencies, this election was held out as a proper example to every city in the kingdom, and to all the counties and towns, to choose their members with a spirit of freedom and without expense. It was resolved by the freeholders of Westminster, in advance—
“that if this election had been contested, it would not have cost Sir Robert Bernard a shilling, the electors being determined to support their free choice.”
This particular return is a case in point, which goes to prove that the authors of corruption in electioneering matters were more guilty than those they corrupted. At the Covent Garden hustings—where, on previous occasions, the ministers had spent enormous sums, besides moving every power and art of intrigue to get their own nominees returned—the entire proceedings were one long scene of bribery, trickery, and illegality, brute-force, and disorder. On the occasion in question, 1770, the administration seems to have been slightly cowed by the results of their ill-advised manœuvres to impose placemen upon the county: the recent Middlesex proceedings were still a source of concern; the constitution had been violated—not with impunity,—and serious effects in the way of impeachment were by no means impossible: consequently, the people being left to the legitimate exercise of their liberties, the election passed off in the pacific, well-ordered, and regular manner described, freedom did not degenerate into licence, “no one was a penny the worse,” and the representative system in its purity of action was for once maintained in Westminster.
CHAPTER IX.
REMARKABLE ELECTIONS AND CONTROVERTED ELECTION PETITIONS, 1768 TO 1784.
The feats of the Whartons, Walpoles, Marlboroughs, Pelhams, and Graftons, in the direction of lavishing large sums for the corruption of the electorate, were dwarfed into insignificance by the fortunes staked upon a single contest later on: thus the disbursements over a contested election at Lincoln would be twelve thousand per candidate; and, we are told, “occasionally, after a hard fight at such places as Colchester, all the defeated men appeared in the Gazette.” It is stated that the two great county contests for Hampshire, in 1790 and 1806, cost the ministerial candidates twenty-five thousand apiece on each occasion, while their opponent’s expenses were proportionately large. The contest, still remembered by Northampton worthies as the “Spendthrift Election,” in which three earls fought for the borough election in favour of their respective nominees in 1768, is a startling instance of the lengths to which electioneering Peers were tempted to proceed in “scot and lot times.” The opponents were the Earls of Halifax, Northampton, and Spencer, and the respective nominees they pitted against each other in this all but ruinous “tourney” were Sir George Osborne, Sir George Bridges Rodney, and the Hon. Thomas Howe. The candidates were of small account in the conflict; their patrons bore the brunt of the battle. The canvassing commenced long before the polling; this was extended over fourteen days—a phenomenal circumstance in the days when elections were often settled and returns made before ten o’clock on the morning of the polling day. According to the poll-book, the legitimate number of electors, some 930, was exceeded by 288, but confusion of persons is accounted for by the promiscuous hospitalities of three noble mansions being at the mercies of the crowd for weeks: at the famous historical seats of Horton, Castle Ashby, and Althorp, the orgies pictured in Hogarth’s “Election Dinner”—“filled with the tipsified humours” of what Bubb Dodington fitly called, “venal wretches”—were indefinitely prolonged. “The Scot and Lot,”—woolcombers, weavers, shoemakers, labourers, pedlars, militia-men, and victuallers held “high revel,” prolonged without intercession from night till morning, and vice versâ, in the ancestral halls, of which, including the well-stocked wine-cellars, they were in a body “made free.” Therein lodged the perdition of Horton; for, after they had drained dry the goodly stock of matured port, Lord Halifax had to place before them his choicest claret, whereon, with one accord, filled with vinous fastidiousness, the “rabble rout” deserted to a man, declaring, “they would never vote for a man who gave them sour port,” and went over in a body to Castle Ashby. Each of the candidates claimed more votes than could be legally registered in his favour. Howe, the unsuccessful candidate, whose “potwallers” and “occasional voters” were likewise challenged, petitioned; and the “controverted election” came before the House of Commons. During the six weeks the scrutiny lasted, sixty covers were daily spread at Spencer House, St. James’s, for those concerned in the case. The results were no less eccentric: the number of votes being finally found equal, the election was referred to chance, and decided by a toss, which Lord Spencer won, and nominated a man out in India. The cost of this escapade then had to be counted. It is said Lord Spencer expended one hundred thousand pounds; his antagonists are credited with having wasted one hundred and fifty thousand pounds each—an incredible sum, considering this represents at least double the equivalent amounts at the present day. Earl Spencer came off lightest, and appears to have been in no way involved; Lord Halifax was ruined; Lord Northampton cut down his trees, sold his furniture at Compton Winyates, went abroad for the rest of his days, and died in Switzerland. Canon James, who has related the story of the famous “Spendthrift Election” in his “History of Northamptonshire,” mentions that at Castle Ashby is still preserved a sealed box, labelled “Election Papers,” the evidence of this insane contest—one of no political moment; but none of the present generation has had the courage to open the dread receptacle of bygone folly.
A whimsical anecdote is related by Edgeworth, in his “Memoirs,” respecting the contest for Andover at the general election in 1768, when Sir J. B. Griffin was returned at the head of the poll with seventeen votes; the second member was B. Lethieulier, with fifteen votes; and the defeated candidate was Sir F. B. Delaval, who only polled seven. The latter was a celebrity, both in fashion and in the politics of his day, and the story which is connected with his electioneering experience properly belongs to the traditions of the subject. Sir Francis found himself at loggerheads with his attorney, an acute practitioner, whose bill had been running for years, and, though considerable sums of money had been paid “on account,” a prodigious balance was still claimed as unsettled; this Sir Francis disputed at law. When the case came before the Court of King’s Bench, amongst an exorbitant list of charges the following item excited general attention:—
“To being thrown out of the George Inn, Andover; to my legs
being thereby broken; to surgeon’s bill, and loss of time
and business; all in the service of Sir F. B. Delaval £500.”
It was found that this charge required explanation. It appeared that the attorney, by way of promoting the interests of his principal in the borough, had sought to propitiate the favour of those important potentates at electioneering times, the mayor and corporation, in whose hands, as seen in the foregoing, was vested so much of the local influence. A pretext was necessary to decoy these worthies to a banquet, where they might be conciliated, so the attorney sent cards of invitation to the mayor and corporation in the name of the colonel and officers of a regiment in the town; he at the same time invited the colonel and staff, in the name of the mayor and corporation, to dine and drink the king’s health on his birthday;—an ingenious ruse, but the arch-diplomatist had literally “reckoned without his host.” The two parties met, were cordially courteous, ate a good dinner, toasted his majesty’s health, and proceeded to other oratorical compliments before breaking up. Then came the acknowledgments: the commanding officer of the regiment made a handsome speech to Mr. Mayor, thanking him for his hospitable invitation and entertainment; “No, Colonel,” replied the mayor, “it is to you that thanks are due, by me and my brother-aldermen for your generous treat to us.” The colonel replied with as much warmth as good breeding would allow; the mayor retorted in downright anger, vowing that he would not be choused by the bravest colonel in His Majesty’s service. “Mr. Mayor,” said the colonel, “there is no necessity for displaying any vulgar passion on this occasion; permit me to show you that I have here your obliging card of invitation.” “Nay, Mr. Colonel, here is no opportunity for bantering, there is your card.” The cards were produced simultaneously. Upon examining the invitations, it was observed that, notwithstanding an attempt to disguise the hand, both cards were written by some person who had designed to hoax them all. Every eye of the discomfited guests, corporation and officers alike, turned spontaneously upon the attorney, who had, of course, found it necessary to be present to flatter the aldermen; his impudence suddenly gave way, he faltered and betrayed himself so fully by his confusion, that, in a fit of summary justice, the colonel threw him out of window; for this, Sir F. B. Delaval was charged £500.
Among the parodies of election addresses issued at the time of the rival Shelburne and Rockingham parties, is a broadside “embellished” with a copperplate engraving of a whimsical assembly of citizens, met in solemn conclave to examine the political views of a deformed sweeper-lad, “a public character,” who, it appears, was nicknamed by his contemporaries “Sir Jeffery Dunstan.” The pointed satire is thus headed:—
“‘What can we reason but from what we know?’—Pope.