Polpenno
Polwenning, the seat of Mr. Tregear, Frank's father, was close to the
borough of Polpenno,--so close that the gates of the grounds opened
into the town. As Silverbridge had told his father, many of the
Tregear family had sat for the borough. Then there had come changes,
and strangers had made themselves welcome by their money. When the
vacancy now occurred a deputation waited upon Squire Tregear and
asked him to stand. The deputation would guarantee that the expense
should not exceed--a certain limited sum. Mr. Tregear for himself
had no such ambition. His eldest son was abroad and was not at all
such a man as one would choose to make into a Member of Parliament.
After much consideration in the family, Frank was invited to present
himself to the constituency. Frank's aspirations in regard to Lady
Mary Palliser were known at Polwenning, and it was thought that they
would have a better chance of success if he could write the letters
M.P. after his name. Frank acceded, and as he was starting wrote
to ask the assistance of his friend Lord Silverbridge. At that
time there were only nine days more before the election, and Mr.
Carbottle, the Liberal candidate, was already living in great style
at the Camborne Arms.
Mr. and Mrs. Tregear and an elder sister of Frank's, who quite
acknowledged herself to be an old maid, were very glad to welcome
Frank's friend. On the first morning of course they discussed the
candidates' prospects. "My best chance of success," said Frank,
"arises from the fact that Mr. Carbottle is fatter than the people
here seem to approve."
"If his purse be fat," said old Mr. Tregear, "that will carry off any
personal defect." Lord Silverbridge asked whether the candidate was
not too fat to make speeches. Miss Tregear declared that he had made
three speeches daily for the last week, and that Mr. Williams the
rector, who had heard him, declared him to be a godless dissenter.
Mrs. Tregear thought that it would be much better that the place
should be disfranchised altogether than that such a horrid man should
be brought into the neighbourhood. "A godless dissenter!" she said,
holding up her hands in dismay. Frank thought that they had better
abstain from allusion to their opponent's religion. Then Mr. Tregear
made a little speech. "We used," he said, "to endeavour to get
someone to represent us in Parliament, who would agree with us on
vital subjects, such as the Church of England and the necessity of
religion. Now it seems to be considered ill-mannered to make any
allusion to such subjects!" From which it may be seen that this old
Tregear was very conservative indeed.
When the old people were gone to bed the two young men discussed the
matter. "I hope you'll get in," said Silverbridge. "And if I can do
anything for you of course I will."
"It is always good to have a real member along with one," said
Tregear.
"But I begin to think I am a very shaky Conservative myself."
"I am sorry for that."
"Sir Timothy is such a beast," said Silverbridge.
"Is that your notion of a political opinion? Are you to be this
or that in accordance with your own liking or disliking for some
particular man? One is supposed to have opinions of one's own."
"Your father would be down on a man because he is a dissenter."
"Of course my father is old-fashioned."
"It does seem so hard to me," said Silverbridge, "to find any
difference between the two sets. You who are a true Conservative are
much more like to my father, who is a Liberal, than to your own, who
is on the same side as yourself."
"It may be so, and still I may be a good Conservative."
"It seems to me in the House to mean nothing more than choosing one
set of companions or choosing another. There are some awful cads who
sit along with Mr. Monk;--fellows that make you sick to hear them,
and whom I couldn't be civil to. But I don't think there is anybody I
hate so much as old Beeswax. He has a contemptuous way with his nose
which makes me long to pull it."
"And you mean to go over in order that you may be justified in doing
so. I think I soar a little higher," said Tregear.
"Oh, of course. You're a clever fellow," said Silverbridge, not
without a touch of sarcasm.
"A man may soar higher than that without being very clever. If the
party that calls itself Liberal were to have all its own way who is
there that doesn't believe that the church would go at once, then
all distinction between boroughs, the House of Lords immediately
afterwards, and after that the Crown?"
"Those are not my governor's ideas."
"Your governor couldn't help himself. A Liberal party, with
plenipotentiary power, must go on right away to the logical
conclusion of its arguments. It is only the conservative feeling of
the country which saves such men as your father from being carried
headlong to ruin by their own machinery. You have read Carlyle's
French Revolution."
"Yes, I have read that."
"Wasn't it so there? There were a lot of honest men who thought
they could do a deal of good by making everybody equal. A good many
were made equal by having their heads cut off. That's why I mean
to be member for Polpenno and to send Mr. Carbottle back to London.
Carbottle probably doesn't want to cut anybody's head off."
"I dare say he's as conservative as anybody."
"But he wants to be a member of Parliament; and, as he hasn't thought
much about anything, he is quite willing to lend a hand to communism,
radicalism, socialism, chopping people's heads off, or anything
else."
"That's all very well," said Silverbridge, "but where should we have
been if there had been no Liberals? Robespierre and his pals cut off
a lot of heads, but Louis XIV and Louis XV locked up more in prison."
And so he had the last word in the argument.
The whole of the next morning was spent in canvassing, and the whole
of the afternoon. In the evening there was a great meeting at the
Polwenning Assembly Room, which at the present moment was in the
hands of the Conservative party. Here Frank Tregear made an oration,
in which he declared his political convictions. The whole speech was
said at the time to be very good; but the portion of it which was
apparently esteemed the most, had direct reference to Mr. Carbottle.
Who was Mr. Carbottle? Why had he come to Polpenno? Who had sent for
him? Why Mr. Carbottle rather than anybody else? Did not the people
of Polpenno think that it might be as well to send Mr. Carbottle back
to the place from whence he had come? These questions, which seemed
to Silverbridge to be as easy as they were attractive, almost made
him desirous of making a speech himself.
Then Mr. Williams, the rector, followed, a gentleman who had many
staunch friends and many bitter enemies in the town. He addressed
himself chiefly to that bane of the whole country,--as he conceived
them,--the godless dissenters; and was felt by Tregear to be injuring
the cause by every word he spoke. It was necessary that Mr. Williams
should liberate his own mind, and therefore he persevered with the
godless dissenters at great length,--not explaining, however, how a
man who thought enough about his religion to be a dissenter could be
godless, or how a godless man should care enough about religion to be
a dissenter.
Mr. Williams was heard with impatience, and then there was a clamour
for the young lord. He was the son of an ex-Prime Minister, and
therefore of course he could speak. He was himself a member of
Parliament, and therefore could speak. He had boldly severed himself
from the faulty political tenets of his family, and therefore on such
an occasion as this was peculiarly entitled to speak. When a man
goes electioneering, he must speak. At a dinner-table to refuse
is possible:--or in any assembly convened for a semi-private
purpose, a gentleman may declare that he is not prepared for the
occasion. But in such an emergency as this, a man,--and a member of
Parliament,--cannot plead that he is not prepared. A son of a former
Prime Minister who had already taken so strong a part in politics
as to have severed himself from his father, not prepared to address
the voters of a borough whom he had come to canvass! The plea was so
absurd, that he was thrust on to his feet before he knew what he was
about.
It was in truth his first public speech. At Silverbridge he had
attempted to repeat a few words, and in his failure had been covered
by the Sprugeons and the Sprouts. But now he was on his legs in a
great room, in an unknown town, with all the aristocracy of the place
before him! His eyes at first swam a little, and there was a moment
in which he thought he would run away. But, on that morning, as he
was dressing, there had come to his mind the idea of the possibility
of such a moment as this, and a few words had occurred to him. "My
friend Frank Tregear," he began, rushing at once at his subject, "is
a very good fellow, and I hope you'll elect him." Then he paused, not
remembering what was to come next; but the sentiment which he had
uttered appeared to his auditors to be so good in itself and so
well-delivered, that they filled up a long pause with continued
clappings and exclamations. "Yes," continued the young member of
Parliament, encouraged by the kindness of the crowd, "I have known
Frank Tregear ever so long, and I don't think you could find a better
member of Parliament anywhere." There were many ladies present and
they thought that the Duke's son was just the person who ought to
come electioneering among them. His voice was much pleasanter to
their ears than that of old Mr. Williams. The women waved their
handkerchiefs and the men stamped their feet. Here was an orator
come among them! "You all know all about it just as well as I do,"
continued the orator, "and I am sure you feel that he ought to be
member for Polpenno." There could be no doubt about that as far as
the opinion of the audience went. "There can't be a better fellow
than Frank Tregear, and I ask you all to give three cheers for the
new member." Ten times three cheers were given, and the Carbottleites
outside the door who had come to report what was going on at the
Tregear meeting were quite of opinion that this eldest son of the
former Prime Minister was a tower of strength. "I don't know anything
about Mr. Carbottle," continued Silverbridge, who was almost growing
to like the sound of his own voice. "Perhaps he's a good fellow too."
"No; no, no. A very bad fellow indeed," was heard from different
parts of the room. "I don't know anything about him. I wasn't at
school with Carbottle." This was taken as a stroke of the keenest
wit, and was received with infinite cheering. Silverbridge was in the
pride of his youth, and Carbottle was sixty at the least. Nothing
could have been funnier. "He seems to be a stout old party, but I
don't think he's the man for Polpenno. I think you'll return Frank
Tregear. I was at school with him;--and I tell you, that you can't
find a better fellow anywhere than Frank Tregear." Then he sat down,
and I am afraid he felt that he had made the speech of the evening.
"We are so much obliged to you, Lord Silverbridge," Miss Tregear said
as they were walking home together. "That's just the sort of thing
that the people like. So reassuring, you know. What Mr. Williams says
about the dissenters is of course true; but it isn't reassuring."
"I hope I didn't make a fool of myself to-night," Silverbridge said
when he was alone with Tregear,--probably with some little pride in
his heart.
"I ought to say that you did, seeing that you praised me so
violently. But, whatever it was, it was well taken. I don't know
whether they will elect me; but had you come down as a candidate, I
am quite sure they would have elected you." Silverbridge was hardly
satisfied with this. He wished to have been told that he had spoken
well. He did not, however, resent his friend's coldness. "Perhaps,
after all, I did make a fool of myself," he said to himself as he
went to bed.
On the next day, after breakfast, it was found to be raining heavily.
Canvassing was of course the business of the hour, and canvassing is
a business which cannot be done indoors. It was soon decided that the
rain should go for nothing. Could an agreement have been come to with
the Carbottleites it might have been decided that both parties should
abstain, but as that was impossible the Tregear party could not
afford to lose the day. As Mr. Carbottle, by reason of his fatness
and natural slowness, would perhaps be specially averse to walking
about in the slush and mud, it might be that they would gain
something; so after breakfast they started with umbrellas,--Tregear,
Silverbridge, Mr. Newcomb the curate, Mr. Pinebott the conservative
attorney, with four or five followers who were armed with books and
pencils, and who ticked off on the list of the voters the names of
the friendly, the doubtful, and the inimical.
Parliamentary canvassing is not a pleasant occupation. Perhaps
nothing more disagreeable, more squalid, more revolting to the
senses, more opposed to personal dignity, can be conceived. The
same words have to be repeated over and over again in the cottages,
hovels, and lodgings of poor men and women who only understand that
the time has come round in which they are to be flattered instead of
being the flatterers. "I think I am right in supposing that your
husband's principles are Conservative, Mrs. Bubbs." "I don't know
nothing about it. You'd better call again and see Bubbs hissel."
"Certainly I will do so. I shouldn't at all like to leave the borough
without seeing Mr. Bubbs. I hope we shall have your influence, Mrs.
Bubbs." "I don't know nothing about it. My folk at home allays vote
buff; and I think Bubbs ought to go buff too. Only mind this; Bubbs
don't never come home to his dinner. You must come arter six, and I
hope he's to have some'at for his trouble. He won't have my word to
vote unless he have some'at." Such is the conversation in which the
candidate takes a part, while his cortège at the door is criticising
his very imperfect mode of securing Mrs. Bubbs' good wishes. Then he
goes on to the next house, and the same thing with some variation is
endured again. Some guide, philosopher, and friend, who accompanies
him, and who is the chief of the cortège, has calculated on his
behalf that he ought to make twenty such visitations an hour, and to
call on two hundred constituents in the course of the day. As he is
always falling behind in his number, he is always being driven on by
his philosopher, till he comes to hate the poor creatures to whom he
is forced to address himself, with a most cordial hatred.
It is a nuisance to which no man should subject himself in any
weather. But when it rains there is superadded a squalor and an ill
humour to all the party which makes it almost impossible for them not
to quarrel before the day is over. To talk politics to Mrs. Bubbs
under any circumstances is bad, but to do so with the conviction that
the moisture is penetrating from your greatcoat through your shirt to
your bones, and that while so employed you are breathing the steam
from those seven other wet men at the door, is abominable. To have
to go through this is enough to take away all the pride which a man
might otherwise take from becoming a member of Parliament. But to
go through it and then not to become a member is base indeed! To
go through it and to feel that you are probably paying at the rate
of a hundred pounds a day for the privilege is most disheartening.
Silverbridge, as he backed up Tregear in the uncomfortable work,
congratulated himself on the comfort of having a Mr. Sprugeon and a
Mr. Sprout who could manage his borough for him without a contest.
They worked on that day all the morning till one, when they took
luncheon, all reeking with wet, at the King's Head,--so that a little
money might be legitimately spent in the cause. Then, at two, they
sallied out again, vainly endeavouring to make their twenty calls
within the hour. About four, when it was beginning to be dusk, they
were very tired, and Silverbridge had ventured to suggest that as
they were all wet through, and as there was to be another meeting in
the Assembly Room that night, and as nobody in that part of the town
seemed to be at home, they might perhaps be allowed to adjourn for
the present. He was thinking how nice it would be to have a glass
of hot brandy-and-water and then lounge till dinner-time. But the
philosophers received the proposition with stern disdain. Was his
Lordship aware that Mr. Carbottle had been out all day from eight
in the morning, and was still at work; that the Carbottleites had
already sent for lanterns and were determined to go on till eight
o'clock among the artisans who would then have returned from their
work? When a man had put his hand to the plough, the philosophers
thought that that man should complete the furrow!
The philosophers' view had just carried the day, the discussion
having been held under seven or eight wet umbrellas at the corner
of a dirty little lane leading into the High Street; when suddenly,
on the other side of the way, Mr. Carbottle's cortège made its
appearance. The philosophers at once informed them that on such
occasions it was customary that the rival candidates should be
introduced. "It will take ten minutes," said the philosophers; "but
then it will take them ten minutes too." Upon this Tregear, as being
the younger of the two, crossed over the road, and the introduction
was made.
There was something comfortable in it to the Tregear party, as no
imagination could conceive anything more wretched than the appearance
of Mr. Carbottle. He was a very stout man of sixty, and seemed to be
almost carried along by his companions. He had pulled his coat-collar
up and his hat down till very little of his face was visible, and in
attempting to look at Tregear and Silverbridge he had to lift up his
chin till the rain ran off his hat on to his nose. He had an umbrella
in one hand and a stick in the other, and was wet through to his very
skin. What were his own feelings cannot be told, but his
philosophers, guides, and friends would allow him no rest. "Very hard
work, Mr. Tregear," he said, shaking his head.
"Very hard indeed, Mr. Carbottle." Then the two parties went on, each
their own way, without another word.