A History of Parliamentary Elections and Electioneering 31

A History of Parliamentary Elections and Electioneering 31

intimidating those voters who were recognized as favouring the opposite

party, and forcibly keeping them away from the polling booth. These

jolly Jack Tars, with perfect singleness of mind, and oblivious of nice

distinctions which they did not understand, were filled to overflowing

with explosive loyalty for the king, and fealty for their admiral;

but on this occasion the sailors were beaten by the Irish chairmen

with hearty goodwill, and, with their patron, Lord Hood, experienced a

defeat.

 

In 1790, it is consolatory to find that the gallant Lord Hood was

again returned for Westminster; Fox heading the poll with 3516 votes;

Hood, as a good second, with 3217: on this occasion the Whigs lost a

seat, for John Horne Tooke, although so prominent a figure, failed to

repeat the success of Lord John Townshend, 1679 votes were polled for

the “Parson of Brentford,” otherwise John Horne Tooke, the celebrated

philologist.

 

Curious anomalies were witnessed under the old boroughmongering system,

anterior to the sweeping measure of reform. Helston, in Cornwall,

was a typical case. The elective franchise was formerly invested in

the corporation, which consisted of the mayor, who was the returning

officer, eleven aldermen, and twenty-five common council-men,

thirty-six in all. The old charter of Elizabeth was confirmed by

Charles I., and, according to common report, there survived but one

elector under this charter in 1790, to whose lot accordingly fell

the unusual distinction of nominating two representatives on his own

account.

 

The family interest of the Osbornes (Duke of Leeds) proved so paramount

as to here prevent any hope of successfully contesting against their

power.

 

It is interesting to find that a certain grace was lent to the

generally discordant elements of electioneering by the zealous

participation of Beauty in the canvassing department, where the

seductive wiles of female charms and persuasions were relied upon, it

is understood, with reason.

 

“----a faithful few

Worth more than all a Sultan’s retinue.

They point the path, the missing phrase supply,

Oft prompt a name, and hint with hand or eye,

Back each bold pledge, the fervid speech admire,

And still add fuel to their leader’s fire.”

 

(J. STIRLING, _The Election_.)

 

[Illustration: PROOF OF THE REFINED FEELINGS OF AN AMIABLE CHARACTER,

LATELY A CANDIDATE FOR A CERTAIN ANCIENT CITY. BY JAMES GILLRAY.

 

[_Page 293._]

 

The assistance of the fair sex was much relied upon for soliciting and

securing votes; but at such turbulent times, when licence predominated,

the electioneering Circes must have been prepared for brusque exchanges

of pleasantry, though hardly for such encounters as the one preserved

in Gillray’s “Proof of the Refined Feelings of an Amiable Character,

lately a Candidate for a Certain Ancient City.”

 

Some obscurity surrounds the incident represented; obviously the

caricature was destined for electioneering purposes, but the positive

history cannot he traced. It is assumed that the three circumstances of

the candidate being “an eccentric,” a sportsman, and a representative

of a cathedral city point to Sir Charles Turner (created a baronet by

the Marquis of Rockingham in 1782), who represented York from 1768 to

1783. This gentleman always dressed as a sportsman, wearing a green

coat, “tally-ho” buttons, with top-boots, etc., upon all occasions;

he was described by Coombe (_Royal Register_) as the “Marplot” of his

own party, “and in his parliamentary capacity demands the pity of his

friends, the contempt of the wise, and makes himself a laughing stock

for the crowd.” On the discussion of Pitt’s motion for parliamentary

reform, May 7, 1782, Sir Charles Turner by his blunt originality

attracted more attention than either the mover or seconder; he

declared--

 

“that in his opinion the House of Commons might be justly

considered as a parcel of thieves, who, having stolen an

estate, were apprehensive of allowing any person to see their

title deeds, from the fear of again losing it by such an

inspection.”

 

The personage depicted by Gillray is flourishing his whip “Pro bono

Patriæ,” and forcibly demonstrating his aversion to rival canvassers

of the gentle sex, much to the consternation of the ecclesiastical

hierarchy and gownsmen, while the rough townsmen are cheering their

eccentric candidate, and promising to support him.

 

It is to Gillray that we owe the version embodying the glorification

of autocratic boroughmongering as “The Pacific Entrance of Earl Wolf

into Blackhaven,” January, 1792. Before Lord Grey’s Reform Bill altered

the constituencies, in the sordid old days of corrupt influence,

when the representative system of electing parliaments was purely

theoretical, a certain number of territorial magnates apportioned about

half the constituencies between them; of this, the “upper order,” or

aristocratic patrons, trafficked in the seats in exchange for “honours”

for themselves, or lent their boroughs to support ministerial influence

in return for places and pensions, or offices--sinecures for choice--in

which to provide for their less opulent relations; thus in the old

lists of place-holders, pensioners, and “ministerial patronage” may be

traced the younger sons and cousins in several degrees, besides the

names of those who have by marriage entered the families of the prime

holders of “marketable ware,” otherwise parliamentary interest. When

boroughmongering was a profession--a very highly paid one--and boroughs

were farmed for sale, it might be expected that a less elevated

class of adventurers would treat the question of buying and selling

“seats” in parliament like any ordinary item of commerce, as was the

fact; the markets fluctuated, thus we find Lord Chesterfield, whose

authority is unquestionable, looking round for some venal borough to

bring in that young hopeful to whom he addressed the famous “Letters,”

thinking it a finishing part of a gentleman’s training to be in the

House; the ex-ambassador communicated with an agent, proposing to

pay “twenty-four hundred pounds for a seat,” presumably the price in

Chesterfield’s younger days; but he found seats had risen to inordinate

rates--up to five thousand pounds--owing to imported competition,

chiefly rich factors returned home with fortunes from the East and West

Indies. Bubb Dodington has set down in his “Diary” how he, the lordly

proprietor of this said “marketable ware,” went about bargaining to

bring in ministerial nominees for his five or six seats in exchange

for places at the disposal of the administration; and instances might

be multiplied to a tedious extent from the journals of the House

containing the evidence of trafficking in boroughs and buying up

voters, _en gros et en détail_, as disclosed on controverted elections.

 

This condition of affairs produced a mechanical majority as long as the

prime minister in power could command wealth and influence sufficient

to secure a larger number of seats than the opposition. It was in

this direction that the famous electioneering genius, the Marquis of

Wharton, spent a hundred thousand pounds in William III. and Queen

Anne’s days; while Walpole manipulated such huge sums, thinly disguised

as “Secret Service Money,” that, never wealthy enough to purchase all,

and meeting occasional honest members, he was, at intervals, impeached

for corruption in a House two-thirds venal, as it is alleged.

 

Walpole’s successors, who finally drove him from office, bought

elections on even a more extended scale; the Pelhams were clever

dissemblers and apt negotiators for this commodity; it was written of

the Duke of Newcastle, by his antagonist, Lord Hervey, it is believed:--

 

“And since his estate at Elections he’ll spend,

And beggar himself without making a friend;

So while the extravagant fool has a sous,

As his brains I can’t fear, so his fortune I’ll use.”

 

Major Cartwright, the advocate of universal suffrage, who had the

misfortune to live a trifle before the times were ripe enough for

reform to be carried, addressed a petition to parliament in 1820,

showing “that 97 Lords usurped 200 seats in the Commons House in

violation of our Laws and Liberties;” while 90 wealthy commoners “for

102 vile sinks of corruption (pocket boroughs) brought in the House 137

members;” Ministerial patronage returning another twenty, thus giving,

according to the petitioner’s statistics, “a total of 353 members

corruptly or tyrannically imposed on the Commons in gross violation

of the law, and to the palpable subversion of the constitution.” At

that time the Earl of Lonsdale commanded eight seats, as did the

Earl of Darlington. William Pitt, as already described, was seated in

Parliament, 1781, by Lonsdale, then Sir James Lowther, who had been

stigmatized by “Junius” as “The contemptuous tyrant of the North,”

and who himself declared that he was in possession of the land, the

fire, and the water of Whitehaven. When the youthful Pitt became

premier, one of his first acts was to acknowledge his obligations to

“the Wolf,” and Lowther was raised to the peerage as Earl Lonsdale.

The “pacific entrance” of this plutocrat shows the docile “free and

independent voters” of Whitehaven, driven by Lonsdale’s law agent,

and lashed with thongs of “sham suits at law,” dragging the earl

through the tumble-down streets of his town, every window being

illuminated with candles in his honour. He exclaims, “Dear gentlemen,

this is too much; now you really distress me!” Mobs of his miners are

cheering vociferously, he having brought the townsmen to submission

by suspending the working of his coal-mines. Fair canvassers, with

complimentary inscriptions on their banners, head the triumphal

procession:--

 

“The Blues are bound in adamantine chains

But freedom round each ‘Yellow’ mansion reigns!”

 

Before the parliamentary dissolution of 1796, the country was in an

agitated state, for distress was prevalent among the poorer classes,

the expenses of the continental wars were impoverishing the country,

and there was a general outcry for peace; bread riots were common at

the time, and the price of provisions in general was exceptionally

high; political agitators were taking advantage of these circumstances

to fulminate against the king and his ministers; while the various

societies, called “seditious” by the Tories in office, received

encouragement from the Whig party, whose prospects of succeeding to