2016년 5월 29일 일요일

A History of Parliamentary Elections and Electioneering 38

A History of Parliamentary Elections and Electioneering 38


The day of Wilkes’s election appeared the portrait of “John Wilkes,
elected Knight of the Shire for Middlesex, March 28, 1768, by the free
voice of the people,” with, according to the allegorical taste of the
time, Hercules and Minerva as supporters, the latter crowning the elect
M.P. with a wreath, while the former tramples upon the serpent of Envy;
the genius of Liberty is holding the staff of maintenance, surmounted
by the cap of liberty (as invariably associated with Wilkes), and is
pointing to the portrait as her champion. Simultaneously appeared
an engraving commemorative of other incidents of the return from
Brentford, showing the valour of the chief magistrate of the city. The
guards on duty at St. James’s Palace had orders to be in readiness to
march at beat of drum to suppress any riots which might take place; it
has been described how certain drummers took to drumming for Wilkes,
while his sympathizers marched through Westminster to the city,
upsetting all in their way, chalking doors, breaking window-glass,
both in houses and carriages, inscribing vehicles and foot-passengers
impartially with “45.” “Wilkes and Liberty” was the cry, and woe to
those who did not join in shouting, for they, without further inquiry,
were promptly knocked down. In the city, the mob grew more outrageous,
the lord mayor being the Hon. Thomas Harley, who had been elected for
the city, at the top of the poll, when Wilkes, his name lowest on the
list, had been defeated ignominiously; moreover, the lord mayor was a
courtier, and was denounced subsequently in the _North Briton_ as “a
political gambler,” nor was the charge groundless. The mob accordingly
attacked the Mansion House and the lord mayor’s private residence
in Aldersgate Street; neither of these places being illuminated in
honour of Wilkes was a sufficient offence in the sight of the mob, who
proceeded to demolish the windows: every pane of glass was broken,
even to those of the lady mayoress’s bed-chamber. Then they erected
a gallows, on which was suspended a boot and petticoat to symbolize
the Princess of Wales, only too well-known, according to popular
clamour, in association with the Earl of Bute, the “Laird of the Boot”
thus indicated in close proximity; these suggestive emblems of hated
“secret influence” were also marked “45” for the nonce. The pictorial
satire evoked on this topic, “The Rape of the Petticoat” (March 28,
1768), exhibits the lord mayor making a sally from the Mansion House,
supported by constables armed with long staves; the chief magistrate
has himself seized the obnoxious boot and petticoat, amid the ridicule
and laughing resistance of the rabble, who are treating his lordship
to indignities. Below the design is inscribed, “He valiantly seiz’d
the Petticoat and Boot at the portal of his own Mansion.--_Daily
Advertiser._”
 
This loyal zeal was rewarded with signal favour. Harley was made a
councillor of State, and subsequently, through Lord Suffolk, obtained
a lucrative contract. To the impression of this print in the _Oxford
Magazine_ the following verses were added:--
 
“Sing thou, my muse, the dire contested fray,
Where Harley dar’d the dangers of the day;
Propitious Day, that could at once create
A Merchant Tailor[51] Councillor of State!
A numerous multitude contriv’d to meet;
And Halloo _Forty-Five_ thro’ every street;
And (what’s incredible) were heard to cry
Those words seditious, _Wilkes and Liberty_!
On lofty standards in the air did float
Those hieroglyphics ‘_Boot_ and _Petticoat_.’
Soon as their dreadful shouts accost the ear
Of grocer knights, and traders in small-beer,
Confounded and amaz’d the Guildhall court
Forget their custard, and forsake their port;
Away, with ghastly looks, lo, Harley ran,
And thus, in doleful plight, their dismal tale began:
‘Most honour’d, most belov’d, thou best of men!’
 
* * * * *
 
Then from his mansion rush’d the val’rous chief,
To serve his country, or to--take a thief:
But more resolv’d to crush Rebellion’s root,
And triumph o’er the Petticoat and Boot;
In equal balance hung the fierce dispute
Between the warlike Magistrate and Boot.
The Boot and Petticoat at length gave way,
And now remain the trophies of the day.”
 
On the 20th of April, Wilkes appeared before the Court of King’s
Bench, Westminster, of which event an engraving was published. On his
surrendering to his outlawry, the Attorney-General moved for Wilkes’s
commitment, but the judges refused to grant an order to that effect,
on the ground that he was not legally before the court; Wilkes then
left, accompanied by the plaudits of the spectators. “The Scot’s
Triumph; or, a Peep behind the Curtain” gives a further illustration of
this subject; this print, and another following, are announced in the
_Public Advertiser_:--
 
“To Connoisseurs.--This day is published a satirical scratch
in the style of Rembrandt, entitled The Scotch Triumph; with
the representation of their amazing exploits in St. George’s
Fields; the murder of the innocent, and the sacrifice of
Liberty, by Molock; with some curious anecdotes.”
 
In the first version, Wilkes and his friends are driving to surrender
in state; their coach is about to crush a Scotch thistle by the way;
the mob have taken the horses from the vehicle and are dragging it
themselves on the road to the Bench; Wilkes is thus addressing his
vociferous supporters--“Gentlemen and Friends, let me beg you to
desist; I’m willing to submit to the laws of my country.”
 
All the leading political personages are introduced as spectators.
Lord Holland, an alleged adviser of Lord Bute, is observing, “We have
got him safe in a trap at last.” “Jemmy Twitcher” (Lord Sandwich) is
responding, “Yes, but I much doubt whether we shall be able to keep him
there.” On the 27th of April, Wilkes again came up for judgment, and
was then committed to the King’s Bench Prison. On his way thither, in
the custody of two tipstaffs of Lord Mansfield, the coach was stopped
by the people, a further popular demonstration was made, the horses
were removed, and the vehicle drawn through the city by an enthusiastic
crowd, the marshal’s deputies being invited to get out. He finally was
escorted to a public-house, the Three Tuns Tavern, in Spitalfields
(or Cornhill, according to Walpole’s account); from thence, after the
departure of his demonstrative admirers, Wilkes judged it prudent
to make his escape, and surrender himself again, this time at the
prison gates and to the marshal of the King’s Bench. When the news
of his incarceration reached the mob there was a fresh uproar; the
day following, the prison was surrounded, the palings enclosing the
footpath were torn up and made into a bonfire, and the inhabitants of
Southwark found themselves under the necessity, either of illuminating
their houses, or of taking the consequences; the mob dispersed on the
arrival of a small guard.
 
Meanwhile Sergeant Glynn was arguing before all the judges of the Court
of King’s Bench respecting the errors of Wilkes’s outlawry; while,
from his place of confinement, Wilkes next proceeded to address his
sympathizing constituents:--
 
 
“TO THE GENTLEMEN, CLERGY, AND FREEHOLDERS OF THE COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX.
 
“GENTLEMEN,
 
“In support of the liberties of this country against the
arbitrary rule of ministers, I was before committed to the
Tower, and am now sentenced to this prison. Steadiness,
with, I hope, strength of mind, do not however leave me;
for the same consolation follows me here, the consciousness
of innocence, of having done my duty, and exerted all my
abilities, not unsuccessfully, for this nation. I can submit
even to far greater sufferings with cheerfulness, because I
see that my countrymen reap the happy fruits of my labours
and persecutions, by the repeated decisions of our Sovereign
courts of justice in favour of liberty. I therefore bear up
with fortitude, and even glory, that I am called to suffer in
this cause, because I continue to find the noblest reward,
the applause of my native country, of this great, free, and
spirited people.
 
“I chiefly regret, gentlemen, that this confinement deprives
me of the honour of thanking you in person, according to my
promise; and at present takes from me, in a great degree, the
power of being useful to you. The will, however, to do every
service to my constituents remains in its full force; and when
my sufferings have a period, the first day I regain my liberty
shall restore a life of zeal in the cause and interests of the
county of Middlesex.
 
“In this prison, in any other, in every place, my ruling
passion will be the love of England and our free constitution.
For those objects I will make every sacrifice. Under all the
oppressions which ministerial rage and revenge can invent, my
steady purpose is to concert with you, and other true friends
of the country, the most probable means of rooting out the
remains of arbitrary power and Star-chamber inquisition, and of
improving as well as securing the generous plans of freedom,
which were the boast of our ancestors, and I trust will remain
the noblest inheritance of our posterity, the only genuine
characteristic of Englishmen.
 
“JOHN WILKES.
 
“_King’s Bench Prison, May 5th, 1768._”
 
By this letter it will be seen that Wilkes chiefly appealed to what is

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