Parliamentary Reform--Old House of Commons--Rotten Boroughs--Old
Sarum--French Revolution of 1830--Rally for Reform--Wellington
Resigns--Grey in Power--Ministerial Bill Defeated--New Parliament
Summoned--Commons Pass the Bill--Brougham's Speech in Lords--Peers
Throw out the Bill--Mrs. Partington--Riots--Again Bill Passed by
Commons, and again Defeated by Peers--Ministers Resign--Are
Recalled--The Bill becomes a Law.
The House of Commons was instituted in the thirteenth century, when
Henry III summoned the counties of the realm to send knights, and the
principal cities and boroughs to send citizens and burgesses, to
Parliament. This was done rather to afford him a check upon his arrogant
barons, and to procure the sanction of "_the Commons_," (as the untitled
property-holders were called,) to certain subsidies, than to vest in
them any independent functions. But, this "third estate" continuing to
be summoned in subsequent reigns, its influence increased with the
wealth and intelligence of the middle classes, whom it represented, till
what was long regarded by them as a burden came to be cherished as a
right and a privilege; and a supple instrument, originally used by the
monarch to strengthen his prerogative, gradually became the weapon of
the democracy, to cripple its powers and limit its boundaries.
At first, all the counties, and the largest cities and boroughs, were
summoned. Subsequently, as other towns rose to importance, they were
added to the list. In process of time, as trade fluctuated, drying up
old channels and opening new, many of the ancient cities and burghs fell
into decay. Still, they sent representatives to Parliament. In 1509,
the House consisted of 298 members, many of them even then representing
very small constituencies. From that period, down to the passage of the
Reform bill, no place was disfranchised, (except two or three for
bribery,) while 255 members were added (including Scotland and excluding
Ireland,) by the creation of new and the revival of old burghs. During
the six centuries which the House had existed, what changes had passed
over the kingdom, sweeping away the foundations of once populous marts,
and causing others to rise on barren wastes!
Here we have the origin of "_rotten boroughs_;" i. e., towns which,
centuries ago, had a flourishing existence, continuing to send
representatives to Parliament long after any human being had made his
local habitation therein, and whose very names would have perished from
the land, but that they were annually recorded on the Parliamentary
rolls. One of these has been immortalized by the discussions on the
Reform bill--Old Sarum. Not a soul had dwelt there since the Tudors
ascended the English throne--not a tenement had been seen there since
Columbus discovered America--nor could the vestiges of its ruins be
traced by the antiquarian eye of a Champollion or a Stephens. This
sand-hill, in 1832, sent as many members to Parliament as Lancashire,
with a population of a million and a half. Other represented boroughs
were nearly in like condition; others could display their half score or
more of decayed hovels. In the case of these rotten boroughs, the owner
of the land, or of the old franchises, who was generally a wealthy Peer,
sometimes an aspiring London attorney, occasionally an avaricious
stock-jobbing Jew, by virtue of his single vote designated the
representatives. Subject to the mutations of other real estate and
franchises, they were transferable by private bargain, or auction, or
sheriff's sale, or will, or assignment of a bankrupt's effects, or as
security for a gambling debt. Not only were they instruments of
corruption, but ludicrous libels on the claim of the House of Commons
to represent the people, and striking illustrations of extreme
inequality in the distribution of political power.
An East India Prince, the Nabob of Arcot, once owned burghs entitled to
twenty members of Parliament; and through his English agent, who held
the parchment titles, he sent that number to the Commons. A waiter at a
celebrated gaming-house sat for years in Parliament in this wise. He
loaned money to a "noble" gambler, who gave him security for the loan on
a rotten borough, which sent a member. The waiter elected himself to the
seat. In the debates on the Reform bill, it was stated that certain
places, with an aggregate population of less than 5,000, returned one
hundred members. Old Sarum, Gatton, Newtown, and other decayed boroughs,
exerted a controlling influence on British legislation, long after some
of them had ceased to be the abodes of humanity; whilst Manchester,
Birmingham, Leeds, and other important towns, swarming with life, and
rich in arts and manufactures, had not a single representative. The
elective franchise was very restricted, and generally based on absurd
qualifications. Scores of members were chosen by close corporations,
while others were designated by single individuals. The essence of the
system is concentrated in the general fact, that, in 1832, less than two
hundred persons, mostly of the "privileged orders," actually returned a
majority of the House of Commons.
So enormous an evil was not without an occasional mite of good. Though
these coroneted traffickers in Parliamentary seats usually bestowed them
on favorites of their own class, there were some notable exceptions to
this rule. John Horne Tooke, the most radical of all reformers, sat for
Old Sarum, the rottenest of all rotten boroughs. Brougham entered the
Commons through the narrow door of a "nomination borough," though he
left it with the plaudits of the largest constituency in the kingdom.
Burke, Romilly, Mackintosh, and other illustrious and liberal names,
were indebted to close corporations for their introduction to Senatorial
fame.
This system, the slow growth of centuries, was in full play at the
ascension of William IV. It was destined to a speedy overthrow. Early in
1830, a simultaneous movement towards the long-deferred reform was made
throughout Great Britain and Ireland. George IV died, and William IV
ascended the throne, on the 26th of June, 1830. In the following month,
the people of France rose and drove the Bourbons from their kingdom. The
news descended upon the already excited mind of England like an
animating spirit. The mass heaved with the throes of new life. The
reformers held meetings in every important town, to congratulate their
brethren of France on the expulsion of the elder Bourbons. Drawn
together by the bonds of a common sympathy, they realized how numerous
and powerful a body they were. The election for a new Parliament
occurred in September. Liberal candidates sailed with the popular
current. The result showed a great diminution of the supporters of
Wellington and Peel. Parliament met in November. The cry of "Reform!"
was ringing from the "unions" and "associations," which the last four
months had seen established in every considerable town and village in
the country. The king's speech made no allusion to the subject that
absorbed all minds. In the exciting debate on the address to the throne,
Earl Grey came out boldly for a radical reform in Parliament.
Wellington, in reply, assumed the most hostile ground, declaring that,
"so long as he held any station in the Government, he should resist to
the utmost any such measure." The announcement that ministers were
determined to cling to a system whose rotting props had been for years
falling away, astonished and inflamed the Opposition. Fifteen days
afterwards, ministers were brought to their senses, by being placed in a
minority in the lower House, on a financial question. The next day, the
Iron Duke in the Peers, and the supple Peel in the Commons, announced
that they had relinquished the helm of affairs!
The Duke of Wellington resigned on the 16th of November, 1830. The King
immediately authorized Lord Grey to form an administration, upon the
basis of Parliamentary reform--the first liberal ministry, with the
exception of a few turbulent months, for sixty-five years! Lords Grey,
Durham, John Russell, Althorp, Lansdowne, Holland, and Mr. Brougham,
were its leading spirits; its subordinates being made up of the
Melbournes, the Palmerstons, and other converted Canningites. Parliament
adjourned till February, to afford the new Cabinet time to perfect its
plan. While Downing Street was anxiously cogitating the details of the
great measure, its friends stimulated public sentiment in every part of
the empire. On the 1st of March, 1831, Lord John Russell brought
forward, in the House of Commons, the ministerial plan for a reform in
Parliament. A summary of its leading provisions, as finally adopted, is
subjoined.
It was a compromise between representation and prescription, on the
three principles of disfranchisement, enfranchisement, and extension of
the suffrage. The number of members, 658, was not altered, but their
distribution was changed. The ultra rotten borough system was exploded.
In England, 56 burghs were wholly disfranchised, 31 others partially,
whilst 41 new towns were enfranchised, part receiving two members,
others one. The large cities and counties received an increase of
members. The same principles were less extensively applied to Scotland
and Ireland.
The qualifications of electors were essentially modified, and the
aggregate more than doubled. Property, in most cases, still continued to
be the basis of the right of suffrage. The greatest change was in the
cities and burghs. In those, throughout the United Kingdom, the occupier
of a building of the yearly value of L10, whether he owned or rented it,
could vote for the local members. The ancient rights of voters, in
burghs not disfranchised, were partially preserved, but provision was
made for their gradual extinction. It was supposed that the bill added
more than half a million to the number of Parliamentary electors. In
1838, the number of electors registered was 978,816. It has since
exceeded a million.
The sweeping character of the bill surpassed public expectation, and
produced an electric effect upon the country; the reformers hailing it
with enthusiasm, whilst the champions of old abuses were stricken with
horror. Mr. Hume, the leader of the radicals, declared that "it far
exceeded his highest hopes." Sir Charles Wetherell, the oracle of the
legal formalists, denounced it as "a corporation robbery." Mr. Macaulay,
the organ of the philosophic reformers, pronounced it "a great, noble,
and comprehensive plan." Sir R. H. Inglis, the representative of the
bigotry of Oxford University, said, "the plan of ministers meant
revolution, not reformation."
All parties girded themselves for such a conflict as England had not
witnessed for a century. After an inveterate contest of three weeks, the
English bill (one for each kingdom was introduced) passed its second
reading in the House by a majority of only one. A day or two afterwards,
an amendment was carried against ministers, by a majority of eight.
Immediately thereupon ministers announced that they should dissolve
Parliament, and appeal to the people. At this suggestion, the Opposition
broke through all restraint, and denounced them as revolutionists and
traitors. They dreaded the appeal, for they knew the country was with
the ministry. The Tory Peers resolved on the desperate measure of
preventing the dissolution, by arresting the reading of the king's
speech. The day came, and brought with it a scene of uproar in both
Houses, which baffles description. A cotemporary writer says:
"A hope had remained, that the project of stopping the king's
speech, and interposing an address, might succeed. That hope rested
entirely upon the speech being read by the Chancellor, (Brougham,)
and not by the king in person. Suddenly the thunder of the guns was
heard to roar, breaking the silence of the anxious crowds without,
and drowning even the noise that filled the walls of Parliament. In
the fullness of his royal state, and attended by all his
magnificent Court, the monarch approached the House of Lords.
Preceded by the great officers of state and of the household, he
moved through the vast halls, which were filled with troops in iron
mail, as the outside courts were with horse, while the guns boomed,
and martial music filled the air. Having stopped in the robing
chamber in order to put on his crown, he entered the House and
ascended the throne, while his officers and ministers crowded
around him. As soon as he was seated, he ordered the usher of the
black rod to summon the Commons; and his Majesty, after passing
some bills, addressed them. By those who were present, the effect
will not soon be forgotten, of the first words he pronounced, or
the firmness with which they were uttered, when he said that 'he
had come to meet his Parliament in order to prorogue it, with a
view to its immediate dissolution, for the purpose of ascertaining
the sense of his people in regard to such changes in the
representation as circumstances might appear to require.' He then,
with an audible voice, commanded the Lord Chancellor to prorogue;
which being done, the Houses dispersed, and the royal procession
returned amidst the hearty and enthusiastic shouts of thousands of
the people."
Great praise is due to the "Sailor King" for the firmness with which he
stood by his reform ministers in this crisis, despite the clamors of
alarmists in Church and State.
At the elections, the friends of the bill swept the country. They
carried nearly all the counties, and all the cities and large towns. Its
opponents obtained their recruits chiefly from close corporations and
rotten boroughs. The English bill was proposed in the New House on the
24th of June, and, after a running fight of three months, passed the
Commons by 109 majority, and was sent to the Lords. The greatest anxiety
was felt for its fate in that refuge of ancient conservatism. The debate
on the second reading continued four nights. On the last evening,
October 7th, Lord Brougham spoke five hours in its support, making the
great effort of his remarkable life. His speech was an era in the
history of that House.
He replied _seriatim_ to the opponents of the measure, dissecting this
lord with keen logic, scathing that marquis with impassioned rebuke,
holding this duke's ignorance up to ridicule, putting down the
effrontery of that viscount, basting this earl with the oil of flattery
while he roasted him with intense reasoning, and bringing to the defense
and elucidation of the bill those rich stores of learning, argument,
eloquence, wit, sarcasm, denunciation, and appeal, which have given him
an undying name. The radical boldness of his doctrines, and the
_abandon_ with which he demolished "illustrious dukes," or tore the
drapery from "noble lords," were no less remarkable features of this
speech, than its transcendent ability. Lord Dudley, probably the first
scholar and the most polished orator in the House, had sneered at "the
statesmen of Birmingham, and the philosophers of Manchester." Brougham
repelled the sneer, and, in a passage of keen severity, contrasted Lord
Dudley's accomplishments with the practical sense of the men he had
traduced, closing it by saying, "To affirm that I could ever dream of
putting the noble earl's opinions, aye, or his knowledge, in any
comparison with the bold, rational, judicious, reflecting, natural, and,
because natural, the trustworthy opinions of those honest men, who
always give their strong sense fair play, having no affectations to warp
their judgment--to dream of any such comparison as this, would be, on my
part, a flattery far too gross for any courtesy, or a blindness which no
habits of friendship could excuse."
He brought his great speech to a close, by uttering this solemn warning:
"My lords, I do not disguise the intense solicitude I feel for the
event of this debate, because I know full well that the peace of
the country is involved in the issue. I cannot look without dismay
at the rejection of this measure. But, grievous as may be the
consequences of a temporary defeat--temporary it can only be--for
its ultimate, and even speedy success, is certain. Nothing can now
stop it. Do not suffer yourselves to be persuaded that, even if the
present ministers were driven from the helm, any one could steer
you through the troubles which surround you, without reform. But
our successors would take up the task in circumstances far less
auspicious. Under them, you would be fain to grant a bill, compared
with which, the one we now proffer you is moderate indeed. Hear the
parable of the Sybil; for it conveys a wise and wholesome moral.
She now appears at your gate, and offers you mildly the volumes,
the precious volumes of wisdom and peace. The price she asks is
reasonable; to restore the franchise which, without any bargain,
you ought voluntarily to give. You refuse her terms, her moderate
terms. She darkens the porch no longer. But soon, for you cannot do
without her wares, you call her back. Again she comes, but with
diminished treasures. The leaves of the book are in part torn away
by lawless hands; in part defaced with characters of blood. But the
prophetic maid has risen in her demands--it is Parliaments by the
Year--it is Vote by the Ballot--it is Suffrage by the Million! From
this, you turn away indignant, and for a second time she departs.
Beware of her third coming; for the treasure you must have; and
what price she may next demand, who shall tell? It may be even the
mace which rests upon that woolsack. What may follow your course of
obstinacy, if persisted in, I cannot take upon me to predict, nor
do I wish to conjecture. But this I well know--that, as sure as man
is mortal, and to err is human, justice deferred enhances the price
at which you must purchase safety and peace; nor can you expect to
gather in another crop than they did who went before you, if you
persevere in their utterly abominable husbandry, of sowing
injustice and reaping rebellion.... You are the highest judicature
in the realm. It is a judge's first duty never to pronounce
sentence, in the most trifling case, without hearing. Will you make
this the exception? Are you really prepared to determine, but not
to hear, the mighty cause upon which a nation's hopes and fears
hang? You are! Then beware of your decision! Rouse not a
peace-loving but resolute people. Alienate not from your body the
affections of a whole empire. I counsel you to assist with your
uttermost efforts in preserving the peace, and upholding and
perpetuating the Constitution. Therefore I pray and exhort you not
to reject this measure. By all you hold dear--by all the ties that
bind every one of us to our common order and our common country, I
solemnly adjure you, I warn you, I implore you, yea, on my bended
knees, I supplicate you, reject not this bill!"
The warning and the appeal were in vain. The bill was thrown out on the
second reading by 41 majority. The struggle for the mastery between the
people and the nobility had now come. The Commons adopted a strong vote
of confidence in ministers, and ministers resolved to stand by the bill.
Parliament was prorogued till December. In the vacation, reform meetings
assembled in unprecedented numbers. On one of these occasions, at
Taunton, Sydney Smith first brought to notice a venerable matron whose
name is likely to be immortal in both hemispheres. In the course of his
speech, the witty divine said:
"I do not mean to be disrespectful, but the attempt of the Lords to
stop the progress of reform reminds me very forcibly of the great
storm of Sidmouth, and of the conduct of the excellent Mrs.
Partington on the occasion. In the winter of 1824, there set in a
great flood upon that town--the tide rose to an incredible
hight--the waves rushed in upon the houses, and everything was
threatened with destruction. In the midst of this sublime and
terrible storm, Dame Partington, who lived upon the beach, was seen
at the door of her house with mop and pattens, trundling her mop
and squeezing out the sea-water, and vigorously pushing away the
Atlantic Ocean. The Atlantic was roused. Mrs. Partington's spirit
was up; but I need not tell you that the contest was unequal. The
Atlantic Ocean beat Mrs. Partington. She was excellent at a slop,
or a puddle, but she should not have meddled with a tempest.
Gentlemen, be at your ease--be quiet and steady. You will beat Mrs.
Partington."
A few riots gave diversity to the scene. At Derby, the mob demolished
the property of some anti-reformers--they terribly frightened Sir
Charles Wetherell, at Bristol--they burnt the Duke of Newcastle's
turreted seat, at Nottingham--they smashed the windows of Apsley House,
the town residence of the Duke of Wellington. The country was profoundly
agitated, and the firmness of ministers averted a revolution.
Parliament met in December. The king's speech urged reform. Lord John
introduced the English bill, slightly improved. A factious opposition,
and an adjournment for the holidays, kept it suspended till the 22d of
March, 1832, when it passed the Commons, and was sent to the Lords.
After a hot debate, it passed the second reading, when a hostile
amendment, which destroyed its utility, was sprung upon the House and
adopted, on the 7th of May. The next day, Lord Grey asked, according to
a previous understanding, for the creation of a sufficient number of
Peers to carry the bill. The King declined. Ministers instantly
resigned. The Commons addressed the King in behalf of ministers, with
rare boldness. The people assembled _en masse_, and petitioned the
Commons to stop the supplies. Many meetings resolved to pay no more
taxes till the bill became a law. The King requested Wellington to form
a compromise administration. At this proposal, the popular indignation
was kindled afresh. Things were approaching a fearful crisis. The Duke
tried to execute the royal wish--the ultras of both parties were not
invited to seats in the Cabinet--the half-and-half reformers would not
come through fear--and he gave up the task in despair. The King recalled
Grey, with a pledge to create new Peers, if necessary. This brought the
refractory Lords to terms. Dreading the introduction of so large a body
of liberals into their ancient hall, whose votes would avail the
reformers in future contests, a sufficient number of Tories absented
themselves from the Peers to insure the passage of the bill. Those who
remained concentrated, in their dying denunciations, the venom of the
entire opposition. The English bill received the royal assent on the 7th
of June, 1832. The Scotch and Irish bills speedily followed, and the
month of July, after a two years' contest, which had shaken the empire
to its center, saw the new Constitution of the House of Commons
established.
Though the Reform bill has not proved to be so large a concession to the
popular demands as was intended, nor as beneficial to the country as was
anticipated, it was the greatest tribute to the democratic principle
which the nation had paid since the Commonwealth. Its defects will be
discussed when we examine the Chartist movement.