“SPEECH OF SIR FRANCIS BURDETT ON HIS FINAL RETURN FOR WESTMINSTER, 1837.
“Gentlemen, Electors of the City and Liberties of Westminster—
“It now becomes my pleasing task to return you my most sincere and grateful thanks for the high honour which you have again conferred upon me. In the first place, I have to thank you for the arrangements that you have made, and for the consideration you have manifested in regard to the present state of my health, and for the relief your attention has afforded me from those duties which would have been painful and difficult on this great and important occasion, and which has rendered my part in the struggle comparatively easy and full of satisfaction. (Cheers.) Permit me to congratulate you upon the noble, the patriotic, the independent efforts you have made, and through you, gentlemen, to congratulate the people at large upon the glorious triumph of the English constitution, which has been achieved against the vain and futile efforts of Radicalism and democracy. Gentlemen, I congratulate you upon the firm determination you have shown to maintain all the great and inestimable institutions of this country against the efforts of her enemies. (Loud cheers, with faint hisses.) The task which I have now to perform is both short and pleasant, and I shall not now detain you, after the triumph you have achieved and the victory you have won, merely to indulge my own feelings of exultation and of gratification; but this I will say, that the electors of Westminster have by the result of their noble and patriotic exertions set an example to the people of England, to be looked up to and followed; and in every part of this great nation I make no doubt but that this brilliant example will have the happy effect of sending good men, who love their country and venerate her constitution, to unite for their defence, and at the same time to defeat the machinations and conspiracies of the bad. (Loud applause.) I will not dwell on these subjects, but this much I will observe, that you are much indebted even to your enemies for the signal triumph you have so nobly and so gloriously achieved. (Great cheering.) The malignity and malice of some persons have done much to aid the cause of the constitution; but I should say that if there is one individual to whom you are more indebted than any other, that person certainly was Mr. Daniel O’Connell. (Loud cheers and groans.) The attacks of that individual have tended to serve the cause which they were designed to injure. Gentlemen, the big beggarman of Ireland (renewed cheers) has mistaken the good sense and patriotism of the people of England. He has intruded himself with his uncalled-for advice upon the electors of Westminster, and with (as it now turns out) his disregarded threats. He has intruded that advice and those suggestions in an Irish letter, couched in a strain more Irish than Irish itself (loud laughter), and containing in every point that mixture of blarney and bully, the former of which has only excited the disgust, and the latter the contempt of the electors of Westminster. (Loud cheers, groans, and laughter.) I know not what influence that letter may be said to have had upon His Majesty’s ministers; but this I know, that the people of England, and especially the electors of Westminster, were made of sterner stuff. Whatever His Majesty’s ministers may think proper to do, what course they may choose to pursue, we have shown our determination to maintain and support the English constitution and to resist to the uttermost the dismemberment of the British empire, notwithstanding that Mr. Daniel O’Connell is our declared and determined foe. (Loud cheers, with shouts of disapprobation from the ‘Leader’ party.) In addition, I will merely say that you view as I do the attempt to control your opinions lately made by the great popish priest-ridden paid patriot of Ireland. (Great applause and sensation.) And I will add this, that I wish such persons would declare and destroy themselves as he has done; no danger could then be apprehended, as I think it would be on all occasions safer to have such persons my foes than my friends. (Cheers, and yellings from the ‘Leader’ party.) Gentlemen, with these observations I shall take my leave. The sun shines upon our principles and our affections at this moment; but there is a still brighter sunshine in every honest English heart at the triumph achieved by you and the example you have set to the rest of England. (Cheers.) Wishing you all good and happiness, and full of the devotion I owe you electors of Westminster and to the friends to the cause of England and the constitution, I now take my leave. (Renewed cheering, which continued for several minutes, during which time the hon. baronet bowed to the meeting and retired from the hustings, accompanied as he came, by a large body of his friends and supporters.)”
The situation of Mr. Leader was illustrated by a parody of Sir E. Landseer’s picture of “The Dog and the Shadow;” the bone is Bridgwater (which seat he relinquished to contest Westminster)—the latter is inscribed on the shadow.
The sequel of the Westminster contest was given by HB as a “Race for the Westminster Stakes between an Old Thoro’bred and a Young Cock-tail—weight for age—the old ’un winning in a canter” (May 22, 1837). Lord Russell, Wellington, and others are assembled as spectators in a booth to the right. Lord Castlereagh, the jockey, is bringing in easily the high-mettled racer with Burdett’s face. Roebuck is vainly whipping and spurring “Leader,” the second horse. Hume and O’Connell are highly excited at the defeat of their favourite.
The question of a Repeal of the Union was one of a momentous order, and accordingly a considerable interest seems to have attended Burdett’s change of sides. Doyle has given a capital version of the story in “Taking up a Fare. ‘All the World’s a Stage’” (May 24, 1837). The coach represented is “Peel’s Stager;” Sir James Graham is ostler; Sir Robert Peel, as “whip,” is raising up his reins and addressing the box passenger, William IV., “We begin to load up capital well,” alluding to Burdett, the fresh customer. “You don’t say so,” remarks the king. Peel continues his reminiscences of the new inside passenger. “He as is now getting in—was formerly a great ally of the ‘Comet.’[74] He has since travelled occasionally with the ‘Mazeppa’[75] people; but, for some time back, I have missed him off the road entirely.” The Duke of Wellington, who is making everything secure, and Lord Lyndhurst are in the “boot.” Sir Francis Burdett, still lamed with the gout, is about to enter the coach; the door is held for him by Lord Stanley: “I should know your face: didn’t you once drive the ‘Darby Dilly?’ What are you doing now?” Lord Stanley (whom HB, in a former cartoon, had drawn upsetting the “Darby Dilly” in question) is touching his hat to Sir Francis, and replying, “At present, Sir, I’m with these people; but since ‘the Dilly’ was done up I haven’t had no regular engagement. I sometimes drives the ‘Conservative’ up a stage and sometimes take it down.” Lord Castlereagh appears as Burdett’s tiger.
Burdett, the ex-Radical champion, still in his congenial character of “Don Quixote,” is next shown attacking the “Lion of Democracy.” The picture of this adventure is entitled “The Last and Highest Point at which the Unheard-of Courage of Don Quixote ever did, or could arrive, with the Happy Conclusion.” “An Old Song to a New Tune” (June 17, 1837), shows the Whig wherry reduced to make great exertions to keep ahead; of the six rowers, the faces of Palmerston, Duncannon, and Melbourne are alone shown; Lord John Russell is steering. The passengers are John Bull, with an uneasy expression, seated beside the king, who is evidently upset by the motion, and looks very unwell. The parody runs—
“Row, brothers, row,
The stream runs fast,
The Raddies[76] are near,
And our daylight’s past.”
Leader’s fate over the Westminster contest (June 17, 1837) is summed up as “A Dead Horse—a Sorry Subject,—what was once a Leader in the Bridgwater Coach; supposed to have been driven to Death by his Cruel Masters.” Hume is driving off the defeated in a knacker’s cart.
“We, the People of England” (July 1837), exhibits Messrs. Hume, Roebuck, and Wakley as the “Three Tailors of Tooley Street,” all three sitting cross-legged; the former, slate in hand, is working out one of his grand historic “tottles.”
The candidature of General Evans for Westminster is summed up as “Reorganizing the Legion” (24 July, 1837). The boardmen all appear in ragged regimentals, as the remnant of the Spanish Legion, and a very woebegone set they seem; the fugleman, wearing a cocked hat, has a pictorial placard of a leader taking to flight, with the legend, “I run;” the posters appear chiefly designed to canvass “Murray for Westminster;” and General Evans is himself trying to make the file straight with his malacca cane, while crying, “Eyes right.”
Sir Francis Burdett had, in his altered politics, fought, conquered, and made his final bow at the hustings of Westminster, he being at the time in indifferent health; his return for Wiltshire was the next point of interest. How far this change of constituency suited the baronet’s own constitution is displayed by HB, who had previously exhibited the subject of his sportive humour under his gouty infirmity. “Grinding Young” (July 25, 1837) is the title of a new application of an old fancy; Burdett, broken by age and debility, with his foot swathed in flannel, showing the gouty foe triumphant, is hobbling with a crutch up the ladder which leads from “Westminster” to the wonderful mill; and, presto! an agriculturist turns the handle, and forth from the hopper emerges the baronet in his familiar guise, spick, span, and spruce, with the elastic smartness and activity of youth, he is stepping out into “North Wilts.”
An ingenious election skit appeared on Lord Durham’s appeal to the local constituency: it is entitled, “The Newest Universal Medicine” (July 27, 1837). Lord Durham appears as a compounder of quack nostrums; he wears an apron, and is standing at a counter, stirring with a pestle a mortar containing his novel mixture. Beneath it is his “Letter to the Electors of Durham,” and around are the varied ingredients of his “Universal Panacea”—such as “Conservative Opiate,” “Radical Alcohol,” with “Whig Alkali;” while all sorts of colours are ready to hand, indigo, and orange, light blue, mustard (Durham), and verdigris. While mixing his pills, Lord Durham is exclaiming “Now to extinguish that Quack Morison!” A large box stands ready for the medicament, addressed to “Daniel O’Connell, Esq., M.P., General Association and Trades-Union, Dublin;” a smaller box is directed to the Bishop of Exeter. On a chair stands a small collection of the quack compounds and remedies in boxes of various hues, and addressed to the Times, Standard, Globe, and Morning Chronicle, indicative of Lord Durham’s versatile talents and scribbling propensities.
A touching allegory for a rejected candidate was furnished by HB over these same elections. “As You like It” (July 31, 1837). The wounded and solitary deer which has come down to the brook, presents the lachrymose countenance of Roebuck; the shaft which has caused his tears is marked “Bath.” Lord John Russell, as the “Melancholy Jacques,” is, from the other side of the water, soliloquizing over the Roebuck’s fate.
Dr. Bowring is favoured with a place in Doyle’s portrait-gallery, as “The Rejected of Kilmarnock” (August 21, 1837).
Another defeat at the general election forms food for HB’s playful irony. This time it is Joseph Hume rejected by Middlesex: “Figurative Representation of the Late Catastrophe” (August 31, 1837). The Middlesex balloon is sailing majestically out of reach; the gentleman thrown out is descending at a fine pace; Joseph Hume’s parachute is blown inside out, and he is ejaculating in his fall, “Now, unless some friendly dunghill receives me, I am lost for ever.” Below him are the green plains of Erin, and the spot on which the discomfited aeronaut is descending is shown to be Kilkenny.
Daniel O’Connell pretty generally seems the master of the situation in the impressions we get of the big Liberator in Doyle’s admirable and genially humorous cartoons. In another aspect of the 1837 election, published at the same date, the great Dan is installed as passenger and traffic manager at the metropolitan head-quarters of the new railway. “Great Western General Booking Office” (August 31st) shows those gentlemen who have been so unfortunate as to miss their seats besieging O’Connell for fresh places, “Gentlemen,” he cries, with good-natured desire to assist all, “we are all full; but, if you will only wait for the next train, we shall, I have no doubt, be able to accommodate you all with seats.” The best-known of the rejected ones are clamouring round the counter: “I am afraid we are thrown out for the present,” says one; while Dr. Bowring “the rejected of Kilmarnock,” is of opinion, “It seems there is a screw loose somewhere in their principal engine.” Roebuck stands first of the unfortunates; his slight luggage is “at the end of his stick;” Hume, carpet-bag in hand, has secured a ticket, and is departing—evidently with grave misgivings—to Kilkenny. Emerson Tennent and Sir James Graham are standing at the door of the office.
The ultimate reception of Hume by Kilkenny is set forth by the same hand: “Shooting Rubbish” (August 31, 1837). Dan O’Connell, habited as an Irish peasant, has brought Hume on a hay-trolley to a thatched cabin marked “Kilkenny;” he is gently lowered on to a heap by the wayside, where, according to a notice-board, “Rubbish may be shot.” “I think,” says Dan, “that is letting you down nice and easy.” Hume is grateful for the opportune assistance: “Thank ye, friend; should you ever have occasion to come to the North, I’ll endeavour to do as much for you.”
Parliament was not summoned until November 15, 1837; in the interval, Doyle produced two or three ingenious cartoons summarizing the situation. One of the best of these represents the field of contest like the preceding versions; it is entitled, “Retzsch’s Extraordinary Design of Satan playing at Chess with Man for his Soul, copied by HB in his freest manner” (September 29, 1837). The Great Dan takes the place of the evil one, the skull and cross-bones are mounted as his ensign, and he is evidently master of the board. “Man” is personated by Lord Melbourne, who is evidently in perplexity as to his next move. Britannia is personifying man’s good angel, and she is pitifully regarding the loser.
“A Game at Chess (again): the Queen in Danger” is another version of the situation in the recess. This appeared October 20, 1837, with the quotation, “A change came o’er the spirit of my dream.” The youthful sovereign is matched against Lord Palmerston. The Queen’s political tutor and adviser, Lord Melbourne, is standing behind the chair of his royal mistress. Lord Palmerston has put the Queen in jeopardy; Her Majesty is evidently anxious, but fails to master the right move. Melbourne sees the situation, and looks on with some excitement, but is enjoined by Palmerston to refrain from prompting his royal pupil’s play.
This situation is further exemplified in two later cartoons: “Susannah and the Elders” (October 27, 1837), in which the Queen is riding between Lords Melbourne and Palmerston; the spot appears to be Brighton, near the Pavilion, then a royal residence. The other version is borrowed from the popular farce, “High Life below Stairs (inverted), as lately performed at Windsor by Her Majesty’s servants” (October 31, 1837). The Queen is seen, seated on a sofa, but partly screened from view by a curtain. Lord Melbourne, who makes a handsome “my lord duke,” is monopolizing the youthful beauty; he observes to Lord Palmerston, who is also in livery, with a cockade—“Stand off; you are a Commoner. Nothing under nobility approaches Kitty.” Lord Palmerston is not overawed by these exclusive pretensions; as a representative of the Commons, he seizes his advantage,—“And what becomes of your dignity, if we refuse the supplies?”
A pungent epitome of the incidents of electioneering is thus set forth by an anonymous poetaster:—