“LONDON.
“‘O! what! without a spur, Sir John,
And yet your steed is getting on?’
‘The steed is a good one I’m upon.’
“Says Madame Squires, in the air,
‘Our friend Sir Crisp need never fear—
Tho’ we are late, we will be there.’
“Sir William is not first, ’tis true,
Nor Barnard second, tho’ True Blue,
Glyn will be third—Jack! what say you?
“If there is an honest man in the nation
’Tis Bethel, I’ll say it without hesitation,
Nor leave it even to his own arbitration.”
The half of the engraving of “All the World in a Hurry,” having reference to the Oxfordshire elections, may be taken as an introduction to Hogarth’s famous series of “The Election;” the actual candidates, besides the contest, being set forth in this earlier version.
The two horsemen galloping in advance of their competitors represent Lord Wenman and Sir James Dashwood, the “True Blue” candidates, who gained the head of the poll, and were returned as “sitting members,” but were afterwards, “on a controverted election petition,” displaced to make room for Lord Parker and Sir Edward Turner, the representatives of the ruling party, who had been supported from the first with the entire government interest, and by a decision of the House of Commons were ultimately seated.
In the engraved version of this spirited competition, Lord Wenman is made to remark, “They are not far behind us, Sir James;” to which Dashwood responds, “Too far, my lord, to get up with us.” That every exertion was made is illustrated by the driver of the post-chaise which contains the ministerial nominees; the Duke of Marlborough, as postillion, is declaring “his jades, i.e. the voters, begin to kick”—the elections for Oxfordshire having been in the control of the Marlborough family at former elections; and, in fact, the same influence was so preponderating, that no opposition after the election of 1754, now in question, was offered in the county until 1826,—another Sir G. Dashwood was unsuccessful in the Whig interest in 1830. Sir Edward Turner and Lord Parker are in the ministerial post-chaise; the duke is proposing to throw over one of his nominees—“Sir Edward, you had better get out;” his colleague, however, is resisting this desertion—“You won’t leave me single, Sir Edward?” The latter is trying to spur their postillion forwards: “Push hard, my Lord Duke, or we shan’t get in.” Two Whig notabilities are riding at a distance; one is observing, “Sir James [Dashwood] and my Lord [Wenman] have got ground on ’em;” his neighbour is confidently replying, “Ay, and they’ll keep it, my boys.”
Last comes the great man of the administration, driving his phaeton and six. He bids a mounted messenger to “ride forward, and tell my Lord Duke I would have been with him, but my horses took fright at a funeral, and won’t pull together;” the Duke of Newcastle is the person represented, and the circumstance to which he attributes the restiveness of his six-in-hand was the death, just before the dissolution of parliament, of his brother Henry Pelham, a man of superior abilities to the duke, who had filled the same offices with a better hold on his team.