Lord Macaulay's Description of the Scene.
Such a scene as the division of last Tuesday I never saw, and never expect to see again. If I should live fifty years the impression of it will be as fresh and sharp in my mind as if it had just taken place. It was like seeing Caesar stabbed in the Senate House, or seeing Oliver taking the mace from the table; a sight to be seen only once, and never to be forgotten. The crowd overflowed the House in every part. When the strangers were cleared out, and the doors locked, we had six hundred and eight members present—more by fifty-five than ever were in a division before. The Ayes and the Noes were like two volleys of cannon from opposite sides of a field of battle. When the opposition went out into the lobby, an operation which took up twenty minutes or more, we spread ourselves over the benches on both sides of the House; for there were many of us who had not been able to find a seat during the evening. When the doors were shut we began to speculate on our numbers. Everybody was desponding. "We have lost it. We are only two hundred and eighty at the most. I do not think we are two hundred and fifty. They are three hundred. Alderman Thompson has counted them. He says they are two hundred and ninety-nine." This was the talk on our benches. I wonder that men who have been long in Parliament do not acquire a better coup d'œil for numbers. The House, when only the Ayes were in it, looked to me a very fair House—much fuller than it generally is even on debates of considerable interest. I had no hope, however, of three hundred. As the tellers passed along our lowest row on the left hand side the interest was insupportable—two hundred and ninety-one—two hundred and ninety-two—we were all standing up and stretching forward telling with the tellers. At three hundred there was a short cry of joy—at three hundred and two another—suppressed, however, in a moment; for we did not yet know what the hostile force might be. We knew, however, that we could not be severely beaten. The doors were thrown open, and in they came. Each of them, as he entered, brought some different report of their numbers. It must have been impossible, as you may conceive, in the lobby crowded as they were, to form any exact estimate. First, we heard that they were three hundred and three; then that number rose to three hundred and ten; then went down to three hundred and seven, Alexander Barry told me that he had counted, and that they were three hundred and four. We were all breathless with anxiety, when Charles Wood, who stood near the door, jumped on a bench and cried out, "They are only three hundred and one." We set up a shout that you might have heard to Charing Cross, waving our hats, stamping against the floor, and clapping our hands. The tellers scarcely got through the crowd; for the House was thronged up to the table, and all the floor was fluctuating with heads like the pit of a theatre. But you might have heard a pin drop as Duncannon read the numbers. Then again the shouts broke out, and many of us shed tears. I could scarcely refrain. And the jaw of Peel fell; and the face of Twiss was as the face of a damned soul; and Herries looked like Judas taking his necktie off for the last operation. We shook hands and clapped each other on the back, and went out laughing, crying, and huzzaing into the lobby. And no sooner were the outer doors opened than another shout answered that within the House. All the passages, and the stairs into the waiting-rooms, were thronged by people who had waited till four in the morning to know the issue. We passed through a narrow lane between two thick masses of them; and all the way down they were shouting and waving their hats, till we got into the open air. I called a cabriolet, and the first thing the driver asked was, "Is the Bill carried?" "Yes, by one." "Thank God for it, sir." And away I rode to Gray's Inn—and so ended a scene which will probably never be equalled till the reformed Parliament wants reforming; and that I hope will not be till the days of our grandchildren, till that truly orthodox and apostolical person, Dr. Francis Ellis, is an archbishop of eighty."
[THE PROROGATION OF THE ANTI-REFORM PARLIAMENT (1831).][5]
Source.—Molesworthy's History of the Reform Bill, London, 1866, p. 185.
Under these circumstances, ministers acted with promptitude and decision. Their defeat had occurred on the morning of the 22nd of April; on the same day summonses were issued, calling a Cabinet Council at St. James's Palace. So short was the notice, that the ministers were unable to attend, as was customary on such occasions, in their court dresses.
At this council it was unanimously resolved that Parliament should be prorogued the same day, with a view to its speedy dissolution, and the royal speech, which had been prepared for the occasion, was considered and adopted. All necessary arrangements having been made, in order to take away from the King all pretext for delay, Earl Grey and Lord Brougham were deputed to wait on the King, and communicate to him the advice of the Cabinet. From what has been already said, the reader will be prepared to anticipate that this advice was far from palatable. The unusual haste with which it was proposed to carry out that measure, naturally increased the King's known objections to the proposed step, and furnished him with a good excuse for refusing his assent to it. Earl Grey, the pink and pattern of loyalty and chivalrous courtesy, shrunk from the disagreeable errand, and requested his bolder and less courtly colleague to introduce the subject, begging him at the same time to manage the susceptibility of the King as much as possible.
The Chancellor accordingly approached the subject very carefully, prefacing the disagreeable message with which he was charged, with a compliment on the King's desire to promote the welfare of his people. He then proceeded to communicate the advice of the Cabinet, adding, that they were unanimous in offering it.
"What!" exclaimed the King, "would you have me dismiss in this summary manner a Parliament which has granted me so splendid a civil list, and given my Queen so liberal an annuity in case she survives me?"
"No doubt, sire," Lord Brougham replied, "in these respects they have acted wisely and honourably, but your Majesty's advisers are all of opinion, that in the present state of affairs, every hour that this Parliament continues to sit is pregnant with danger to the peace and security of your kingdom, and they humbly beseech your Majesty to go down this very day and prorogue it. If you do not, they cannot be answerable for the consequences."