The circumstance of receiving a salary does not appear to have compromised the independence of members, but to the contrary, as they were thus enabled to keep their honesty the purer, by resisting the venal attacks of the Court. The integrity of members seems to have suffered when their fees were no longer recognized. The “Pensioner Parliament” came into existence precisely at the epoch when representatives remitted “their wages;” a significant circumstance, but indicative of the times; when selfishness usurped the place of patriotism, members sacrificed the modest retainers designed to keep them honest, that they might be the less fettered to bargain in their own interests.

“The senate, which should head-strong Princes stay,
Let’s loose the reins, and gives the Realm away;
With lavish hands they constant tributes give,
And annual stipends for their guilt receive.”

(Andrew Marvell: An Historical Poem.)

The proverbial incorruptibility of Andrew Marvell is a case in point. This example of a true patriot is erroneously said to have been the last member who received wages from his constituents. He died in 1678, M.P. for Hull.[5] Others, his contemporaries, maintained the right, and suffered their arrears to accumulate, as a cheap resource at the next election. Marvell more than once, in his correspondence, speaks of members threatening to sue their boroughs for pay.[6] Lord Braybrooke, in his notes to Pepys’s “Diary,” refers to a case, noticed by Lord Campbell in his “Life of Lord Nottingham,” where the M.P. for Harwich, in 1681, petitioned the Lord Chancellor, as that borough had failed “to pay him his wages.” A writ was issued “De expensis Burgensium levandis.” Lord Campbell adds, “For this point of the People’s Charter [payment of wages] no new law is required.”[7]

Pepys’s later allusions concern the constantly threatened dissolutions; in November, 1668, he records, “The great discourse now is that the Parliament shall be dissolved and another called, which shall give the King the Dean and Chapter’s lands, and that will put him out of debt,” concluding with a hint that the subtle and “brisk” Duke of Buckingham, at that time the actual ruler of the kingdom, “does knowingly meet daily with Wildman and other Commonwealth-men,” the while deceiving Charles into the belief that his intrigues were of a more tender nature.

At Whitehall, the same month, Pepys acquires some fresh and rather significant information upon the subject of the Commons; it is imparted to him that—

“it was not yet resolved whether the Parliament should ever meet more or no, the three great rulers of things now standing thus:—The Duke of Buckingham[8] is absolutely against their meeting, as moved thereto by his people that he advises with, the people of the late times, who do never expect to have anything done by this Parliament for their religion, and who do propose that, by the sale of the Church lands, they shall be able to put the King out of debt: my Lord Keeper is utterly against putting away this and choosing another Parliament, lest they prove worse than this, and will make all the King’s friends, and the King himself, in a desperate condition: my Lord Arlington [being under suspicion, owing to his mismanagement of money in Ireland] knows not which is best for him, being to seek whether this or the next will use him worse. It was told me that he believes that it is intended to call this Parliament, and try them for a sum of money; and, if they do not like it, then to send them going, and call another, who will, at the ruin of the Church perhaps, please the King with what he will have for a time.”

These passages need no comment, the accepted ideas upon representative government under the House of Stuart were such as to fill constitutional minds with amazement. This view is endorsed by a popular ballad of the day:—

“Would you our sov’reign disabuse,
And make his parliament of use,
Not to be chang’d like dirty shoes?
This is the time.”

The inconsistency of the king’s behaviour, and the triviality of his mind—when applied to matters of business, and especially that of parliament—is happily held up to ridicule by one of his contemporary wits, who has thus parodied the expected speech from the throne:—