On the 16th of March came on the third election for Middlesex. One Charles Dingley,[211] a merchant, had offered himself, in the morning papers, as candidate, and appeared on the hustings at Brentford; but not a single freeholder proposing him, he slunk away, and drove to London as fast as he could. Townshend and Sawbridge again proposed Wilkes, who was accepted with the greatest shouts of applause. Yet the House of Commons, the next morning, again declared it a void election; even Grenville allowing it must be so. Rigby hinted at Townshend and Sawbridge; but said, he would not name them—and though their conduct as members was most indecent and disrespectful to the House, the Ministers did not dare to call them to account. On the contrary, fearing it would occasion louder clamour, should they leave the county without a member, they ordered a fourth writ to be issued, which only drew them into greater perplexity; timidity and rashness being generally alternate. Burke, expecting that the measure would be to punish the obstinacy of the freeholders by issuing no more writs, had prepared an invective in that view, and vainly attempted to adapt his speech to the contrary sense. Wedderburne, whose impudence was more dauntless, and who had actually been on the point of concluding a bargain with the Court, but had been disappointed, broke out, with all the rage of patriotism that had missed the wages of profligacy, and said, it was no wonder all respect for the House of Commons was lost, when, in the last Parliament, men had been obliged to follow such low creatures as Dyson and Bradshaw, as often as Mr. Conway and Mr. Charles Townshend had disapproved ministerial measures: “nay,” added he, “we all know that this is ordered by secret influence”—memorable words, as they fell from one who was a competent witness; for though they pointed out Lord Bute, Wedderburne had been deep in his confidence, and marked him out now merely because Lord Bute had rather wanted the power than inclination to serve him.[212]
The University of Oxford were the next to display their zeal for the Court, and presented a loyal address; so did Cambridge, Kent, and the merchants of Bristol. The same was attempted in Surrey, but agreed to by only part of the grand jury. Liverpool, Lichfield, and Edinburgh followed, and, in general, all the Scotch boroughs,—which did but increase the opposite spirit, and contributed to the mortifications that fell on the Court from such injurious measures. At a large meeting of the Common Council, previous to one intended at Guildhall, for presenting an address, but twenty-one persons declared for it, one hundred and forty-one against it; and the latter voted an address of thanks to Turner, the Lord Mayor, who had distinguished himself on Wilkes’s side. Shropshire, Leicestershire, and the town of Coventry joined in the incense to the King; but the latter with a circumstance peculiarly ridiculous, and which proved how much the enemies of the Constitution were charmed with the arbitrary measures of the Court—for the address from Coventry was drawn by a physician, so rancorously Jacobite, that at church he always rose from his knees, when the King was prayed for. The Supporters of the Bill of Rights advertised against the Coventry address, which, with the same unconstitutional views, had attacked that society. Mankind might judge of a cause, in which King George’s and King James’s friends were equally interested!—and what interest, but that of despotism, could they have in common?
The last instance made the Court sick of that fulsome flattery. The merchants of London, to the number of six or eight hundred, amongst whom were Dutch, Jews, and any officious tools that they could assemble, having signed one of those servile panegyrics, set out in a long procession of coaches to carry it to St. James’s. The mob accompanied them, hissing and pelting. When they came to the end of Fleet Street, they found the gates of Temple Bar shut against them. Another mob was posted at Gray’s Inn Lane. The coaches turned down lanes and alleys wherever they could, and not a third part arrived at the palace. Mr. Boehm, Chairman of the East India Company, concealed the address under the seat of his coach, which he was forced to quit, and take shelter in a coffee-house. In the meantime a hearse, drawn by two black and two white horses, and hung with escutcheons representing the deaths of Clarke at Brentford and of Allen in St. George’s Fields, appeared in the streets, and was driven to the gates of St. James’s, where the attendant mob hissed and insulted all that entered the Court. The Ministers, who had received no intimation of this pageant, remained trembling in the palace;[213] and all they did was to order the grenadiers to defend the entrance till the magistrates could arrive and read the Riot Act. At last, Earl Talbot took courage, and went down with his white staff, which was soon broken in his hand. He seized one man, and fourteen more of the rioters were made prisoners. The Duke of Northumberland was very ill treated; and the Duke of Kingston,[214] coming from a visit from Bedford House, was taken for the Duke of Bedford, and was so pelted, that his coach and new wedding liveries were covered with mud. It was half an hour past four ere the address could be carried to St. James’s; and then was not presented by the Chairman, who was not in a condition to appear. At night, a proclamation was issued against riots. Ten of the rioters were discharged: the grand jury threw out the bills against the other five. Such was the consequence of an unpopular Court, at once affecting popularity, and affecting to despise it!
Had they been content with sillily assuming a share in the affections of the people, which they did not possess, no great mischief had been done. By provoking their resentment in the same breath, they had well nigh driven the people into rebellion; and, by making the House of Commons the instrument of their irregularities, they effected a contempt for Parliaments, which, perhaps, did not displease the machinators. Liberty stood in an alarming position: her buckler, the Parliament, was in the hands of the enemy, and she was reduced to beg that enemy to break that buckler—an alternative of almost equal danger, whether granted or refused. It required a man of the firmest virtue, or a ruffian of dauntless prostitution, to undertake the office of opposing Wilkes in the decisive contest for the county of Middlesex. There was a young officer, called Colonel Lutterell, whose father, Lord Irnham, was devoted to Lord Bute. They were descended of a good Irish family, who had been attached to and had betrayed King James the Second; and the morals and characters of both father and son, especially of the former, were in no good estimation. The father had parts, wit, and boldness:[215] the son affected to be a bravo, too, but supported it ill. The son was pitched upon by the junto for candidate for Middlesex; and Lord Holland and his sons openly espoused him. This last circumstance, and the zeal of the Scots, crowned his unpopularity; and lest it should not, Wilkes gave out that Lutterell was to be rewarded with a daughter of Lord Bute. One of the race, not long after, attained a far more elevated match.
So desperate did Lutterell’s cause appear, that great bets were made on his life; and at Lloyd’s Coffee-house, it was insured for a month. A third candidate soon appeared, one Captain Roache, another duelling Irishman, supposed to be selected by Wilkes, as a proper antagonist to Lutterell.
The struggle now became very serious. The House of Commons party—at least in the approaching violence—affected the tone of legality, and ordered the sheriffs to call on the magistrates to attend and keep the peace at Brentford. On the other hand, a new indictment was preferred at Hickes’s Hall against Macquirk, the chairman, for the murder of a constable; but the grand jury would not find the bill; yet the next month a new bill was found against him, and he was forced to abscond. The Treasury offered a reward of 500l. for discovering the person who, at the procession of the merchants, had, with a hammer, broke the chariot of one Ross, an aged merchant, and wounded him in several places. The celebrated and unknown writer Junius threw his firebrands about, among so many combustibles, but aimed them chiefly at the head of the Duke of Grafton.[216]
But though the Court affected to proceed according to law, its votaries acted as if a martial campaign was opened. An advertisement on Lutterell’s side called on gentlemen to accompany and defend him, and not to suffer the mob to govern. Captain Roache, at the same time, advertised that he acted in concert with Wilkes; and told Lutterell, that if there should any disorder arise, he should ask no questions but of him. Lutterell replied, that he would not fight till after the election. The Duke of Northumberland, fearing for his own popularity, gave out that he had influenced no votes on either side.
On the 12th, Colonel Lutterell proceeded to Brentford with a much smaller troop of gentlemen than he had expected; and the mob having assembled before his door, that little band of heroes stole away to the election by breaking down the wall of the garden behind Lord Irnham’s house. This prevented their rendezvous at Holland House, where a great breakfast had been prepared for them. Stephen Fox, Lord Holland’s son, proposed Lutterell, as Mr. Townshend did Wilkes. Townshend desired the people to behave with temper and decency; told them, that was no time to be unruly: if they should be denied justice, then would be the moment to defend themselves by the sword. For Wilkes were given 1143 votes; for Lutterell, 296; for Serjeant Whitaker, who had thrust himself into the contest, only 5; for Captain Roache, not one—but he was hissed, laughed at, and forced to retire, it being suspected that the Court had bought him.
While this business was in agitation, the House of Commons voted the militia perpetual, on a division of 84 to 79. Beckford and Barré abused the Rockingham party; and each faction avoided taking part with Wilkes and the Supporters of the Bill of Rights—a disunion that made the Court amends for the errors of their own conduct.
Wilkes being returned by so great a majority, was again rejected by the House: and the Ministers avowed that they intended, according to precedent, to substitute Lutterell on the poll, as being the legal candidate who had had the greatest number of voices; and the sheriffs were ordered to attend next day on purpose. General Conway strongly supported that intention, for the dignity of Parliament. He had studied the case laboriously, and persuaded himself that it was founded on the law of Parliament; yet neither he nor its warmest advocates could produce a parallel case, all the precedents quoted for establishing the second person on the poll having happened only where the rejected person had been incapacitated by Act of Parliament, as minors, &c.; whereas Wilkes lay under no legal incapacity, but had been declared incapable by a vote of one House only, which does not constitute a law. Had Conway, Sir Edward Hawke, and Lord Granby been firm to their first resolution, the Court would not have ventured on such obnoxious and alarming precedents. It was not less prejudicial, that Lord Chatham, though so long announced by Lord Temple, did not appear during that whole session; whether still temporising with the Court, or that his intellects were yet too disordered, had he stood forth the champion of Wilkes, at that crisis, it might have shaken the predominance of the Court. Norton himself was irresolute; shuffled at the consultations held at Lord North’s, and though bought to be on his own side, could not be steady to it. The House again endeavoured to avoid mention of Townshend and Sawbridge; but Edmondson, a foolish Scot, insisted on having the list read of those who had proposed Wilkes—yet no notice ensued—though Townshend, to force out the name of Lord Holland’s son, asked who had proposed Lutterell?