Eustace Marchmont: A friend of the people

by Evelyn Everett-Green

DURING the latter half of the year 1830, England was passing through some searching experiences, and through a crisis of her political history. The events of these momentous years of the Reform struggle have become by this time a matter of history, but a very brief outline of passing events may not be out of place for younger readers.

When George IV. mounted the throne, the hopes of the Whig party rose high. He was held to be the champion of liberty and reform, and it was a bitter disappointment to those who had regarded him as the friend and pupil of Fox, to find him cast himself into the arms of the Tory party and turn his back on former associates. The leaven of reformed representation had taken such hold of the nation, however, that already a strong party existed, not in the country alone, but in Parliament; yet the prospects of that party were at a very low ebb, till the sudden turn brought about in the first place by the death of the king, and secondly by the “Three days of July” in Paris, when an arbitrary ministry, striving to override the Chamber of Deputies and subvert the constitution, brought about the momentous rising in Paris which cost Charles X. his throne, and raised Louis Philippe to be “King of the Barricades.”

With the accession of William IV., the hopes of the Reform party rose high. The Sailor Prince, as the people liked to call him, although he had been something of a Tory in early life, did not stand pledged to any side in politics, and might have the shrewdness to take warning by the fate of his brother of France, and deem it wise and politic to support all that was right and reasonable in the projected scheme of reform. The champions of the movement were Lord Grey, Lord Durham, his son-in-law, Lord John Russell, and Lord Brougham; but the Duke of Wellington and his cabinet were strenuously opposed to any alteration in the existing method of Parliamentary representation; and when Parliament met for the first time in the new king’s reign, in October, the premier plainly stated this opinion in his opening speech, and with his customary boldness asserted that not only would he introduce no measure of reform, but he would strenuously oppose any that should be brought before the House.

It is well for a minister to have the courage of his opinions; but from the moment of the delivery of that speech the existing ministry became highly unpopular throughout the country. All far-seeing men, of whatever shade of opinion, recognised that, whether for good or ill, the time had come when something must be done to give the large cities and the opulent middle classes a voice in the representation of their country. The rotten boroughs, however desirable from a partisan point of view, were obviously an abuse, and were doomed; the country was in a state of ferment which threatened to become dangerous, and the spirit shown by the Wellington Ministry was one which was at that juncture impossible to carry out in practical legislation. They recognised this themselves, and resigned in November, upon a very small and insignificant defeat, knowing that if they did not do so then, they would only be forced later on upon a more crucial question.

Lord Grey was intrusted by the king with the formation of the next ministry, and the winter months were spent in private discussions amongst the leaders of the Reform party as to the nature of the bill to be introduced. Its terms were kept a profound secret till the following March, when Lord John Russell announced them in a densely packed and intensely excited House of Commons. After a spirited debate the House agreed to accept the introduction of the bill for amending the representation without a division; but the second reading was carried only by a majority of one, and the Government, foreseeing that so strong a measure could never be carried through committee with such an uncertain majority, determined to appeal to the country, and on sustaining a small defeat on a resolution of General Gascoigne’s, resolved on a dissolution. The king was greatly opposed to this, but was persuaded at last to consent to it; and to the great joy of the reforming party all over the country, Parliament was dissolved, and writs for a fresh election issued.

This is anticipating matters in the course of the narrative, but it is better to give the brief abstract of the work of Lord Grey’s ministry consecutively. As for the terms of the new Reform Bill, they will be found in any history of the day, and are hardly in place in the pages of a story.

These autumn days, spent by Saul Tresithny eating out his heart in prison, but by the country at large in a state of seething excitement and unrest, and by such men as Eustace Marchmont in an eager canvassing amongst men of all shades of opinion and all sorts of positions for adherents to the new gospel of reform and emancipation, were passed by Bride very quietly in her sea-girt home, and by the Duke in much serious thought, and study of the vexed questions of the day.

He and his daughter, since that day when she made her appeal to him on behalf of Saul, had drawn slowly yet surely nearer together. The change was hardly noticeable at first, though Bride was sensible of an increased gentleness in her father’s manner. But by degrees he came to talk more to her of the things working in his mind, and she began to ask questions of him, which hitherto she had kept locked up in her own heart. Both were the better for the outlet, and began to look forward to the evening hour after dinner, when they sat together in the big drawing-room and spoke of whatever was uppermost in their minds. It was in this way that they came to speak often about the questions of the day, which subject led naturally to that of Eustace and his doings and sayings. Eustace was often a great deal in the minds both of father and daughter just then. He wrote to the Duke regularly, though not frequently, and his letters were always full of interesting information, though this information was not always palatable to the recipient, who was too old to change his attitude of mind, and whilst striving after tolerance and a spirit of justice and impartiality, regarded with something very much like dread the coming strife.

“Shall we invite Eustace to spend his Christmas with us this winter?” asked the Duke of his daughter one day towards the latter end of October.

Bride glanced at her father, and her cheek crimsoned suddenly.