A History of Parliamentary Elections and Electioneering 11

A History of Parliamentary Elections and Electioneering 11

CHAPTER II.

 

PARLIAMENTARY LIFE UNDER THE STUARTS; PAID MEMBERS.

 

 

The days of the Long Parliament were fruitful in frank out-of-door

__EXPRESSION__s of opinion under the rule of Charles I. and the

Commonwealth; but, although political feelings were embittered, it does

not appear that the franchise was exposed to any undue influence worth

recording. A certain amount of governmental favour was reckoned of use

in isolated instances; this patronage was considered safe to return

nominees for such places as the Cinque Ports. But few election squibs,

pure and simple, can be discovered before the Restoration. Ballads

are less rare; these for the most part deal with the broader party

relations, and are confined within discreet limitations, for “privilege

of parliament” was rigorously enforced under Cromwell. On the

disappearance of the Commonwealth, the spirits of the Cavalier wits and

rhymsters revived, with all the more liveliness for their long-enforced

repression. As an animated and characteristic example of the ballads

produced at the close of the stern conventicle _régime_, we include

the _jeux d’esprit_ written upon the moribund parliament, when it was

no longer formidable,--dissolution having, for the time being, shorn

its far-reaching and vengeful claws, while a changed head of the State

had rendered its return to a lease of power extremely problematical.

It is fair to say that, for the most part, the disappearance of this

straight-laced and tyrannical House of Commons was hailed as a national

relief: the theory of flying “to ills we know not of” had yet to be

realized with the gradual development of the Merry Monarch’s selfish

and ruinous system, the most iniquitous ever tolerated.

 

 

“A GENERAL SALE OF REBELLIOUS HOUSEHOLD STUFF.

 

“Rebellion hath broken up House,

And hath left some old Lumber to sell;

Come hither and take your choice--

I’ll promise to use you well.

Will you buy th’ old Speaker’s chair,

Which was warm and easy to sit in,

And oftentimes hath been made clean,

When as it was fouler than fitting?

Will you buy any Bacon-flitches

They’re the fattest that ever were spent;

They’re the sides of th’ old Committees

Fed up with th’ Long Parliament.

Here’s a pair of bellows and tongs,

And for a small matter I’ll sell ’em;

They’re made of the Presbyters’ lungs

To blow up the Coals of Rebellion.

Here’s the besom of Reformation,

Which should have made clean the floor;

But it swept the wealth out of the nation,

And left us dirt good store.

Here’s a roll of States tobacco

If any good fellow will take it;

It’s neither _Virginia_ nor _Spanish_,

But I’ll tell you how they do make it;

’Tis _Covenant_ mixt with _Engagement_,

With an _Abjuration Oath_;

And many of them that did take it,

Complain it is foul in th’ mouth.

A Lantern here is to be bought,

The like was scarce ever begotten,

For many a plot ’t has found out,

Before they ever were thought on.

Will you buy the _Rump’s_ great saddle

Which once did carry the nation?

And here’s the Bit and the Bridle,

And Curb of Dissimulation.

Here’s the Breeches of the _Rump_

With a fair dissembling cloak,

And a _Presbyterian_ Jump

With an _Independent_ Smock.

Here’s Oliver’s Brewing vessels,

And here’s his Dray and slings;

Here’s Hewson’s awl and his bristles,

With divers other odd things.

And what doth the price belong

To all these matters before ye?

I’ll sell them all for an old song,

And so I do end my story.”

 

From the pages of Pepys we are reminded that members of parliament were

paid for their services up to Charles II.’s reign.

 

It might be expected that the secretary’s “Diary” would contain some

pertinent observation upon elections; he has set down a good deal

upon parliamentary matters that is curious and enlightening, but the

diary ceases in May, 1669, and the more remarkable election contests

commenced later.

 

Samuel Pepys was evidently as indifferent as were the courtiers of his

day to the relatively vital importance of the Commons to the State.

While accompanying the reforming member William Prynne, who had accused

Sir G. Carteret of selling places,[4] from Whitehall to the Temple,

the diarist in return for the hospitality of his coach, endeavoured

to obtain some information by the way as to the manner of holding

parliaments, and whether the number of knights and burgesses were

always the same. To which Prynne replied--

 

“that the latter were not; but that, for aught he can find,

they were sent up at the discretion, at first of the Sheriffs,

to whom the writs were sent to send up generally the Burgesses

and citizens of their county, and he do find that heretofore

the Parliament-men, being paid by the country, several boroughs

have complained of the Sheriffs putting them to the charge of

sending up Burgesses.”

 

This conversation was in January, 1668; in March, Pepys describes his

dining with certain counsel retained by creditors of the navy, the

secretary having been to Cursitor Street to arrange assignments on the

Exchequer to the tune of £1,250,000 in favour of these creditors. The

counsel were pleased to flatter Mr. Secretary upon a recent performance

of his in the Parliament House, and, finding himself with four learned

lawyers, Pepys, with his dinner, enjoyed what he calls “a great deal of

good discourse about parliament”--

 

“their number being uncertain, and always at the will of the

king to increase, as he saw reason to erect a new borough.

But all concluded the bane of the Parliament hath been the

leaving off the old custom of the places allowing wages to

those that served them in Parliament, by which they chose men

that understood their business and would attend it, and they

could expect an account from, which now they cannot, and so the

Parliament is become a company of men unable to give account

for the interest of the place they serve for.”

 

Andrew Marvell, member for Hull, who had enjoyed much experience of men

and measures, found fit subject for satire among the corrupt comrades

who now surrounded him in parliament.

 

“_C._ That traitors to th’ Country in a brib’d House of Commons

Should give away millions at every summons.

 

_W._ Yet some of those givers such beggarly villains

As not to be trusted for twice twenty shillings.

 

_C._ No wonder that beggars should still be for giving,

Who, out of what’s given, do get a good living.

 

_W._ Four Knights and a knave, who were burgesses made,

For selling their consciences were liberally paid.

 

_C._ How base are the souls of such low-priced sinners,

Who vote with the country for Drink and for Dinners.

 

_W._ ’Tis they that brought on us this scandalous yoke,

Of excising our cups, and taxing our smoke.

 

_C._ But thanks to the Harlots who made the King dogg’d,

For giving no more the Rogues are prorogued.”

 

(ANDREW MARVELL, 1674: _A Dialogue between Two Horses_.)

 

From his “good discourse on parliament,” Mr. Secretary Pepys, by a

happy coincidence, straightway betook himself to that palace, where

he had the privilege of being well received, and in which, under the

Stuarts, more curious scenes were witnessed than falls to the lot of

even the average of princely abodes:--

 

“Thence to Whitehall, where the Parliament was to wait on the

King, and they did: and he did think fit to tell them that they

might expect to be adjourned at Whitsuntide, and that they

might make haste to raise their money: but this, I fear, will

displease them, who did expect to sit as long as they pleased.”

 

A truly regal reception, and a most unceremonious mode of dismissing

the “chosen of the people.” The wits of the day thus tersely summed up

the situation of affairs:--

 

“I’ll have a long parliament always to friend,

And furnish my treasure as fast as I spend,

And if they will not, they shall have an end.”

 

(A. MARVELL: _Royal Resolutions_.)

 

Perhaps the most felicitous sallies were due to the pen of that gifted

reprobate, the Earl of Rochester, at times the _alter ego_ of the Merry

Monarch, but who finally, after enjoying boundless favour by diverting

the king at his own royal expense as often as at that of his subjects,

pointed a shaft with too galling a barb, and flitted away from a Court

whose vileness he both exposed and shared in equally liberal measure