A History of Parliamentary Elections and Electioneering 69

A History of Parliamentary Elections and Electioneering 69

Coriolanus (George IV.).

 

Plebs: Dr. Watson.

 

Preston.

 

Carlile.

 

W. Cobbett.

 

Orator Hunt.

 

Thelwall.

 

Sir F. Burdett.

 

W. Hone.

 

Wooler, the Black Dwarf.

 

Cartwright.

 

Hobhouse.

 

Alderman Waithman.

 

Cruikshank.

 

CORIOLANUS ADDRESSING THE PLEBS. 1820. BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.

 

[_Page 338._]

 

Beneath the quotation is a passage from Buffon, eulogizing the

nobility of the figure above, “L’image de l’âme est peinte par la

physionomie”--“animé d’un feu divin,” and other extravagances, such as

“his majestic presence, and the firm and bold deportment which marks

his nobility and rank.” In the other “Great George’s” parody, the

various sections, from Reformers to Revolutionists and Socialists, are

carefully kept apart, although the plebeians at the first glance appear

but a miscellaneous mob.

 

First comes “Liberty of the Press,” a tricolour standard, topped by

the “cap of liberty.” At the front stands William Hone, a stalwart

champion, armed with two formidable clubs, one is styled “Parody,” and

the other inscribed with the names of the famous satirical tracts, “The

Man in the Moon,” and “The House that Jack Built,” both objectionable

weapons in the eyes of the “Coriolanus” of the picture. Behind his

ally and publisher, Hone, is the portrait of the artist himself,

with a tricoloured portfolio marked “Caricature.” George Cruikshank,

in his later days, when turned to Tory proclivities like one or two

other notabilities in the group, endeavoured to soften the impression

conveyed by this print, and described “your humble servant” as “one

of the moderate reformers,” evidently not relishing the company of

those among whom, in his early truculent days, he had voluntarily

enrolled himself. Next comes the figure of the champion of the Princess

of Wales, “Sheriff Double Hue,” otherwise Waithman, who is hugging

a project for “Hell-wide Measures;” beneath the standard of the

“Examiners” and “Chronicles” stands a figure clad in complete Highland

garb; this is Douglas Kinnaird, on the alert, and armed with his trusty

claymore. Sir Francis Burdett and John Cam Hobhouse, jointly grasping a

formidable weapon, are enlisted under the standard of “Parliamentary

Reform.” Hobhouse is trampling on the “Trifling Mistake,” a parodied

version of the speech which procured him more notoriety than was

desirable: over his head is seen Thelwall as a champion lecturer;

Major Cartwright, the so-called “Drum-Major of Sedition,” after all

his struggles in the cause, is but a broken-down leader, supported on

a crutch stick with one hand, while raising the redoubtable sword of

“Universal Suffrage” in the other. Prominent in front of the group

enlisted under the ensign of “Revolution and Plunder,” capped with the

Death’s head, stands Wooler, travestied as the “Black Dwarf,” after the

paper he had then made notorious. Orator Hunt, with pike reversed, is

resting one hand on Cobbett’s shoulder; the latter, a brawny figure,

flourishing two gigantic bones (of contention?); another communist

is skulking away, having let fall Tom Paine’s “Age of Reason.” The

publisher of the “new lights,” Carlile, is resting on a staff capped

with a thistle; Preston, the bootmaker, a violent Democrat, together

with Thistlewood and others holding extreme views, are enrolled under

a bond of “Blood and Plunder.” The figure to the extreme left, next to

the screen of Carlton House, is described by Cruikshank as intended for

Dr. Watson. Truly the “Plebs” form a muster-roll of all the prominent

Radicals and Revolutionists of a period when secret societies of those

whose designs were inimical to constitutional order were presumed to

flourish.

 

The evils which disfigured constituencies in the boroughmongering

days are pictorially set forth by George Cruikshank, under date April

23, 1820, in a caricature entitled “Freedom and Purity of Election!!!

Showing the Necessity of Reform in the Close Boroughs.” The scene

refers to the elections in Cornwall; the locality being indicated by

a signpost as Tregony and St. Austel. The unhappy villagers, by the

independent exercise of their suffrages, have displeased their feudal

proprietor, and are being summarily evicted from their houses, with

their household belongings, by a truculent steward, with a list of

the “proscribed” held in his hand. Old and young, women and children,

are alike doomed, because they or their protectors have dared to act

with independence, and have not voted according to the fiat of the lord

of the manor. Daniel O’Connell appears as the unsuccessful candidate;

he is viewing this mischief with compassion, and is encouraging those

evicted “not to be cast down, as there are other houses besides his

lordship’s,” and that he--the Liberator--“will not desert them,

although they have lost the election.”

 

Parliament reassembled at the end of April, 1820, and in May, George

Cruikshank again favoured the public with another anti-reform cartoon,

“Radical Quacks giving a New Constitution to John Bull!” In this

version the persons most prominent among the “Plebeians” are alluded

to incidentally. John Bull, the national prototype, is reduced, under

the new “regimen,” out of all recognition; in fact, he is but the

mangled remnant of his former portly self, for the new charlatans are

having “their own sweet will.” John Bull is placed between Burdett

and Hobhouse; many desperate operations have already taken place.

He wears the bonnet-rouge of “Liberty” as a night-cap. His left arm

is in a tricoloured sling, while his right arm is being bled. His

two sufficient supports of Church and State have been amputated, and

in their places are strapped two wooden-legs--“Universal Suffrage,”

propped on the “Rights of Man,” and “Religious Freedom,” which is

raised on the “Age of Reason;” the legs of his invalid-chair are

equally unreliable--“Mistaken Confidence,” and “Mistaken Security;”

the sufferer is resting on a pillow stuffed with “False Promises” and

“Reformers’ Opinions.” Sir Francis Burdett, as a professional adviser,

is holding the arm from which he is draining the patient’s blood:--

 

“Mr. Bull, you have lived too well, but when we have renovated

your constitution according to our plan, the reform will be

so complete--that you will never again be troubled with any

fulness whatsoever!”

 

John Cam Hobhouse is administering a tricoloured bolus of formidable

dimensions, to be followed by a corresponding draught:--

 

“Never mind, Mr. Bull; if we have thought it necessary to

take off both your legs, you will find the others very

good substitutes; this Revolutionary Bolus and decoction

of disloyalty are very harmless, but they will restore the

_general equality_ of the intestines and remove any obstruction

which may prevent us from effecting a Radical Reform in the

system.”

 

The victim of these experiments is by no means assured as to his

future--

 

“Maybe, gentlemen,” he replies to these plausible assurances;

“but you have taken all the honest good blood out of my veins;

deprived me of my real supporters, and stuck two bad props in

their place, and if you go on thus, I shall die before ever my

constitution can be improved.”

 

The real supporters, “Mr. Bull’s two legs--Church and State,” are

consigned to a coffin, “to be entombed in the vaults of St. Stephen’s

Chapel.” A formidable array of nostrums are displayed in the vicinity:

Burdett has soporifics and opiates handy--a huge bottle, labelled

“Burdett’s Mixture,” contains a red, white, and blue republican

decoction, “Hobhouse’s Newgate-proof Purity,” and “Whitbread’s Entire;”

a large packet of “Cartwright’s Universal Grease,” with a phial of

“Wooler’s Black-drops;” “Old Bailey Drops” (the bottle broken); ditto,

“Dr. Watson’s White + Comfort;” a packet of “Hunt’s Powder,” and a full

supply of “Cobbett’s Hellebore Ratsbane”--enough, in all conscience, to

kill or cure.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XIII.

 

ELECTIONEERING, POLITICAL WARFARE, AND PARLIAMENTARY REFORM UNDER

WILLIAM IV., 1830-32.

 

 

The last parliament of George IV.’s reign met November 14, 1826.

Towards the close of the session, as is shadowed in Doyle’s early

cartoons, the nation was tiring of the Tories, and the unpopular and

somewhat antiquated Wellington Ministry found the country in distress

and clamorous for retrenchment, to each of which complaints the rigid

disciplinarian in chief command turned a deaf and unsympathetic

ear. Towards the middle of the year 1830 the king’s condition was

threatening, and with his impending decease the close of the session

was anticipated. The situation is pictorially summed up in one of HB’s

sketches as the “Present State of Public Feeling Partially Illustrated”

(May 28, 1830). The views entertained by various individuals upon the

king’s illness are illustrated in their persons: a dandy regrets the

postponement of routs and balls, a speculator complains of the dulness

of the funds, a merchant finds business at a standstill, while a lady

of fashion is resigned to the will of Providence by the opportune

reflection that should the king die there would be the gayer prospect

of a queen and Court--an advantageous exchange for a sovereign shrouded

from his subjects. John Bull good-naturedly declares he hopes George

may recover, “he was such a fine princely fellow!” But the part of this

picture which applies most pertinently to the subject in hand is found

in a member of the Tory Government, who is reflecting “That should

there be a change in the ministry--then I must walk out. That would