CHAPTER XI.

REMARKABLE ELECTIONS AND POLITICAL MEETINGS, 1788 TO 1807.

We have seen Admiral Lord Hood’s energetic canvass at the great

Westminster election, when, with the powerful assistance of the Court,

he fought the Whigs, but failed to hinder Fox’s election. In spite

of the victory gained in 1784 by their opponents, four years later

the ministerialists and the “king’s friends” were again forced into

a fresh contest on the same field, and more ignominiously defeated;

the popular Lord Hood, their chosen champion, having in July, 1788,

been appointed to a seat at the Admiralty Board, as a recognition of

his services to Government, a fresh election was necessary for the

city of Westminster. The Whigs were still to the front, and Lord John

Townshend came forward and canvassed in that interest, with such strong

support from the Opposition that the ministers now experienced a more

inglorious reverse, their candidate being unseated, although recourse

was had to every expedient, lawful or otherwise, that could promote

the return of Hood, the Government nominee. After the close of the

poll, which showed Lord John Townshend with 6392 votes, to Lord Hood’s

5569, thus giving two Whig members for Westminster, Gillray exposed the

corrupt practices of the Court agents in the caricature, published on

August 14, 1788, entitled, “Election Troops Bringing in their Accounts

to the Pay-Table.” The premier is seen behind the bars of the Treasury

gates; the undisguised and direct applications of his quondam allies

are so compromising that it is inexpedient to admit the claimants, or

acknowledge an acquaintance with such disreputable connections; but

a saving compromise is suggested. Pitt is made to plausibly protest,

“I know nothing of you, my friends. Lord Hood pays all the expenses

himself;” then, in a whisper, “Hush! go to the back-door in Great

George Street, under the Rose.” Sir George Rose was Pitt’s secretary

and _factotum_; he is chiefly seen in the contemporary satires as

associated with what was called “back-stairs influence,” of which he

may be accepted as chamberlain; his scene of operations was generally

represented as the “back-door of the Treasury,” where he diplomatically

carried out the stratagems of the premier--especially, as in the

present instance--in the indirect recognition of secret services.

[Illustration: ELECTION TROOPS BRINGING THEIR ACCOUNTS TO THE PAY

TABLE, WESTMINSTER. 1788.

BY JAMES GILLRAY.]

Foremost in the rank of election troops is the modish Major Topham,

a conspicuous personage in his day, who frequently appears in the

caricatures of the time; his notoriety was due to the _World_,

a society newspaper of the last century, of which the major was

proprietor, editor, and fashionable gossip-monger. Topham has brought

a copy of his organ to prove the active support he had lent the

Government during the Westminster contest, and is the first to present

his bill “for puffs and squibs, and for abusing the Opposition.”

[Illustration: AN INDEPENDENT ELECTOR.]

A ragged newsboy from the _Star_ has also brought his journal and a

claim for payment “for changing sides, for hiring ballad-singers, and

Grub Street writers.” As usual, some scenes of a desperate character

had marked the election, and three downright bullies, giant troopers

of the Guards, with ensanguined bayonets as evidence of their late

employment, demand pay “for the attack in Bow Street;” a publican

brings in a reckoning “for eating and drinking for jackass boys;”

ballad-singers have come to claim “five shillings a day” for their

professional services; a cobbler, with Hood’s cockade, presents a

modest bill “for voting three times” as “an independent elector;”

a clothesman of the Hebrew persuasion is clamouring for money “for

perjury, and procuring Jew voters;” and a body of Hood’s sailors,

armed with formidable cudgels, are come for payment “for kicking

up a row,”--as in the election of 1784, Hood’s boisterous sailors

were brought up to the hustings to support their admiral, and were

particularly violent and reckless in their zeal for the cause,

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

power were not encouraging. A meeting of an enthusiastic nature,

largely attended, had been held in St. George’s Fields, the scene of

the former riots, to petition for annual parliaments, and for universal

suffrage, theories which at that time were regarded hopefully, and

which would, it was anticipated, redress existing grievances. In the

autumn of 1795, meetings were held at Copenhagen Fields, where an

immense multitude assembled to sign addresses and remonstrances on the

state of the nation. The immediate consequences of the inflammatory

orations pronounced to the people on this occasion was that, on the

opening of the final session of the parliament which had assembled in

1790, the king, on his way to the Peers to open the House in state, was

assailed by vociferous cries of “Give us peace and bread!” “No war!”

“No king!” “Down with him! down with George!” Before the House of Peers

was reached, an attack was made on the royal carriage, stones were

thrown, and one passed through the window. The riot on this occasion

was made the pretext for the ministry to bring forward new bills for

the defence of the king’s person, and to attempt further infringements

on the liberty of the subject by interfering with the right of public

meetings.

[Illustration: PACIFIC ENTRANCE OF EARL WOLF (LORD LONSDALE) INTO

BLACKHAVEN. 1792. BY JAMES GILLRAY.

[_Page 296._

“E’en by the elements his power confessed,

Of mines and boroughs Lonsdale stands possessed;

And one sad servitude alike denotes

The slaves that labour and the slave that votes.”

(_Rolliad._)]

The political clubs renewed their clamours for a more extended system

of representation freed from corruption, and protested against Pitt’s

new enactments; the London Corresponding Society called another public

meeting, at which the premier is said to have shown symptoms of alarm.

Gillray’s engraving of a meeting of “Patriotic Citizens at Copenhagen

House,” November 16, 1795, satirizes the order of agitators and their

disciples as the dregs of the people, which he represents them to be.

This demonstration, which was largely attended, was held to protest

against the “Seditions Bill” for the protection of the king’s person,

for which, it was argued, ample provisions were already legalized.

Petitions to both Houses were prepared, and remonstrances numerously

signed.

This situation is embodied in the picture of the assembly. The orator,

Thelwall, is holding forth to an audience which is more picturesque

than distinguished. Platforms are arranged at intervals as rostrums

for the speakers, at one of which a butcher is enlarging on “The

Rights of Citizens.” The proprietress of a halfpenny gaming-table has

labelled it, “Equality and no Sedition Bill.” An emissary of Thelwall’s

is offering the remonstrance to sweep-boys for signature; and the

autographs attached thereto, though notorious, are hardly such as to

command the respect of parliament--“Jack Cade, Wat Tyler, Jack Straw,

etc.”

After the elections of 1784 parliament was entirely in the control of

Pitt. It met, wrote Horace Walpole, “as quietly as a Quarter Session,”

the opposition seemed quelled, or driven to despair.

The meeting at Copenhagen House failed to accomplish its purpose,

and further protests were entered against the Seditions Bill “for

the better protection of the king’s person,” which was carried in

the House by large majorities; this repressive measure provided that

no gathering exceeding fifty persons should take place, even in a

private house, without previous information had been laid before a

magistrate, who might attend, and, if he saw cause, order the meeting

to disperse, while those who resisted would be guilty of felony. In

the face of such unconstitutional interference, fresh hostility sprang

up throughout the land; and there being anticipations of an appeal

to the country, the opposition endeavoured to present a bold front

before the constituencies in view of that event; one of these meetings

was summoned by the Sheriff of Middlesex, inviting the freeholders to

assemble at the Mermaid, Hackney; this gathering has been commemorated

by Gillray. The object of the meeting was to obtain a repeal of the

obnoxious Seditions Bill, which, as the artist shows, the Whig member,

George Byng, is vigorously denouncing from the platform; it was at

the same time proposed to prepare an “Address to the King,” and Mr.

Mainwaring, the ministerial representative, is, with Jesuitical

expression, deprecating hostility both to the Government and to their

oppressive legislation, Fox is holding the hat of his oratorical

disciple, Byng. It was on this occasion that the sturdy Duke of

Norfolk, who raised the royal ire by proposing as a toast in a public

assembly, “The Majesty of the People,” took occasion to warn those who

valued the liberty of the subject that they must not be misled by the

specious titles of the bill.

[Illustration: MEETING OF PATRIOTIC CITIZENS AT COPENHAGEN HOUSE,

1795. SPEAKERS: THELWALL, GALE JONES, HODSON, AND JOHN BINNS. BY JAMES

GILLRAY.

“I tell you, Citizens, we mean to new dress the Constitution, and turn

it, and set a new Nap upon it.”

[_Page 298._]

[Illustration: AT HACKNEY MEETING--FOX, BYNG, AND MAINWARING. BY JAMES

GILLRAY.]

“I daresay,” he observed, “if the High Priest of the Spanish

Inquisition was to come among us to introduce his system of

inquisition here, he would call it an act for the better

support and protection of religion; but we have understandings,

and are not to be deceived in this way.”

Mainwaring stated in the House that the meeting had been most

respectably attended, and that the requisition had been signed by three

dukes, one marquis, two earls, and several freeholders.

As we have seen, in describing the elections of 1784, the results

of which ended for a while all the prospects of the Whigs, William

Pitt was called to office in the face of an unmanageable opposition,

and almost in contravention of the voice of parliament; the youthful

premier’s bold resort to dissolution, with his energetic election

tactics, disembarrassed him of the troublesome majority, and placed at

his disposal a perfectly docile House. The progress of our relations

with France, and many unpopular and stringent measures, like the

Seditions Bill, had revived antagonism, and every fresh legislation

which encroached on the rights of the people weakened the Government

influence. Pitt, anticipating the struggle, boldly resorted to his old

policy, and the intention of dissolving parliament was announced in the

speech from the throne. Gillray, whose admirable caricatures illustrate

the leading political events from 1782 to 1810, has epitomized the

situation as “The Dissolution, or the Alchymist Procuring an Ætherial

Representation,” May 21, 1796. Pitt is seated on the model of his new

barracks; the transmutation is carried out from the premier’s recipe,

“Antidotus Republica;” Treasury coals, _i.e._ golden pieces, feed

the furnace; the breeze is raised by the Crown as a bellows; the old

House of Commons, seen in the alembic, shows a few tenants, such as

Fox and Sheridan, left on the opposition benches, but all is rapidly

dissolving into a new chamber, where the alchemist is enthroned as

“Perpetual Dictator,” “Magna Charta” and “Parliamentary Rights” become

his foot-stools, and adulation of the most slavish order is offered up

by the members of the newly constituted and subservient Commons.

Maidstone, for which Benjamin D’Israeli took his seat in 1837, has

been the scene of many severe and exceptionally costly contests.

At the general election, 1796, the defeated candidate, Christopher

Hull, is reported to have polled the greatest number of single votes

ever tendered for that constituency, he having expended three thousand

pounds in about seven hours. This heavy outlay proved fruitless, as Mr.

Hull stood last on the list; but attempting to make a merit of this

liberal use of money, the reputation of which he hoped might serve

for a future occasion, the incipient “electioneerer” was assured by

his friends “he must start on fresh grounds, as the present would be

considered as nothing more than electioneering experience.”

[Illustration: THE DISSOLUTION; OR, THE ALCHYMIST PRODUCING AN ÆTHERIAL

REPRESENTATION. WILLIAM PITT DISSOLVING THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. 1796. BY

JAMES GILLRAY.

[_Page 300._]

[Illustration: THE HUSTINGS--COVENT GARDEN. 1796. BY JAMES GILLRAY.

VOX POPULI.--“We’ll have a mug.”--_Mayor of Garratt._

CHARLES JAMES FOX.--_Loq._ “Ever guardian of your most

sacred rights, I have opposed the ‘Pewter Pot Bill!’” #/ ]

The general election of 1796 was less fruitful in incidents than its

predecessor in 1790. The celebrated philologist, John Horne Tooke,

endeavoured to gain the second seat, as the colleague of the great

Whig chief. On this occasion “the Brentford parson” secured, though

unsuccessful, a larger number of votes; Fox was returned at the

head of the poll, and Sir A. Gardner was second. Gillray has left a

characteristic likeness of the Whig chief, very “spick and span,”

deferentially bowing from “The Hustings,” in acknowledgment of the

ribald, if popular, reception his admirers are according their old

“true blue” member for Westminster. Fox is pressing to his heart, in

parody of another measure, the “Pewter Pot Bill.” “Ever guardian of

your most sacred rights, I have opposed the Pewter Pot Bill.” His

audience is filled with enthusiasm. As an allusion to Fox’s supposed

sympathies with events then proceeding in France--the pot-boy of “The

Tree of Liberty,” Petty France, is offering a foaming measure to the

well-tried patriot and popular representative.

[Illustration: THE FRIEND OF HUMANITY AND THE KNIFE-GRINDER.]

The well-known “Friend of Humanity and the Knife-Grinder,” one of

the most spirited poetical squibs, which first appeared in the

_Anti-Jacobin_, was reprinted as a broadside for electioneering

purposes, with a no less spirited plate, by Gillray, as a heading; and

dedicated “To the Independent Electors of the Borough of Southwark,”

of which constituency Tierney--whose person was figured as “the Friend

of Humanity”--was the representative in parliament. Canning’s admirable

parody was founded upon Southey’s poem, “The Widow,” and written in

English sapphics, in imitation of the original.

“FRIEND OF HUMANITY.

“Needy knife-grinder! whither are you going?

Rough is the road; your wheel is out of order--

Bleak blows the blast--your hat has got a hole in’t,

So have your breeches!

“Weary knife-grinder! little think the proud ones,

Who in their coaches roll along the turnpike

Road, what hard work ’tis crying all day, ‘Knives

And scissors to grind, O!’

“Tell me, knife-grinder, how you came to grind knives?

Did some rich man tyrannically use you?

Was it the squire? or parson of the parish?

Or the Attorney?

“Was it the squire for killing his game? or

Covetous parson for his tithes distraining?

Or roguish lawyer made you lose your little

All in a lawsuit.

“(Have you not read the ‘Rights of Man,’ by Tom Paine?)

Drops of compassion tremble on my eye-lids,

Ready to fall, as soon as you have told your

Pitiful story.

“KNIFE-GRINDER.

“Story! God bless you! I have none to tell, sir,

Only last night, a-drinking at the Chequers,

This poor old hat and breeches, as you see, were

Torn in a scuffle.

“Constables came up for to take me into

Custody; they took me before the justice;

Justice Oldmixon put me in the parish

Stocks for a vagrant.

“I should be glad to drink your honour’s health in

A pot of beer, if you will give me sixpence;

But, for my part, I never love to meddle

With politics, sir.

“FRIEND OF HUMANITY.

“_I_ give thee sixpence! I will see thee damn’d first!--

Wretch! whom no sense of wrongs can rouse to vengeance!--

Sordid, unfeeling, reprobate, degraded,

Spiritless outcast!”

[_Kicks the Knife-grinder, overturns his wheel, and exit in a

transport of republican enthusiasm and universal philanthropy._

It was in the session of 1797 that Mr. Grey first moved “for leave

to bring in a bill to reform the representation of the country.” The

motion, seconded by Erskine, was debated until three o’clock in the

morning--an exceptional sitting in those days--when it was rejected

by a Government majority of fifty-eight votes. Although the system of

representation was notoriously corrupt, at least half the seats being

in the patronage of interested persons, it was thirty-four years before

Earl Grey’s measure for reform could be carried, and then only under

extraordinary circumstances. After Grey’s earlier defeat, it was felt

that in a House of Commons completely submissive to the ministerial

dictates, and which resisted amendment, the opposition leaders could

make no impression, and they accordingly announced their intention for

the present of taking no further part in its proceedings; the voice of

Fox was scarcely heard in the House till the century closed.

Meanwhile, after the secession of the Whig party from the debates,

the agitation throughout the country increased, political societies

became more active, and frequent meetings were held to discuss the

necessity for parliamentary reform. One of the most remarkable of these

was held under the auspices of Bertie Greathead, the owner of “Guy’s

Cliff,” near Warwick; a medal commemorative of this gathering and

its object, reform, was struck for the occasion. These medals were a

popular method of spreading political opinions. The patriotic reform

medal was parodied by another of a loyal nature, representing the devil

suspending three halters over the heads of the demagogues, who are

mounted in “a condemned cart;” on the one side are shown the applauding

“wrong-heads,” while a large assembly of “right-heads” express their

contempt for the proceedings.

[Illustration: Wilkes.

Abbé Siéyès.

Horne Tooke.

C. J. Fox.

William Pitt.

Lord Holland.

Earl of Chatham.

TWO PAIR OF PORTRAITS. PRESENTED TO ALL THE UNBIASED ELECTORS OF GREAT

BRITAIN. 1798. BY JAMES GILLRAY.

[_Page 305._]

[Illustration: LOYAL MEDAL. 1797.

A parody of the patriotic medal struck in commemoration of the Reform

meeting held at Greathead’s, Guy’s Cliff, Warwick.]

The Tories exulted over the secession of “the party,” and numerous

caricatures appeared, imputing all sorts of offences to the Whigs; and

one version represented Fox as “Phaeton” involving the Whig Club in

his destruction. We have noticed the candidature of Horne Tooke for

Westminster; ever since his prominence upon the occasion of Wilkes’s

return for Middlesex in 1768, the “Brentford Parson” had striven to

obtain a seat in parliament. He was in 1798 one of the most conspicuous

members of the reform associations. Few were his match in ready

eloquence, his pen was ever active, and his writings to the purpose.

At an earlier stage of his career, a pamphlet appeared, written, it

was alleged, by his hand, contrasting the two Pitts with the two Foxes

as a pair of portraits; the comparison being in favour of the former.

Advantage was taken of this circumstance to bring into discredit the

confederation of Horne Tooke (who held more democratic views) with Fox

for the advancement of the reform cause. James Gillray designed for

the _Anti-Jacobin Review_ his own satirical version of “Two Pair of

Portraits, presented to all the unbiased Electors of Great Britain,

by John Horne Tooke,” December 1, 1798. The eminent philologer is

represented as a portrait-painter, seated before his easel, on which

appear the two original likenesses of the Whig and Tory chiefs, Pitt

resting on the pedestal of “Truth,” and Fox on that of “Deceit.” The

presentment of Lord Holland with the plunder of “unaccounted millions”

so frequently quoted, is placed beside the portrait of the patriotic

Earl of Chatham, dowered with the “Rewards of a Grateful Nation.”

Horne Tooke, who has in his pocket, “Sketches of Patriotic Views, a

pension, a mouth-stopper, a place,” is presumed to be retouching his

unflattering and sinister portrait of the Whig chief, while demanding

of the electors of Great Britain, which two of them will you

choose to hang in your Cabinets, the PITTS or the FOXES? “Where,

on your conscience, should the other two be hanged?” Allusions

to various periods of the limner’s life and principles appear round the

studio--the windmill at Wimbledon (where Tooke resided), the parsonage

at Brentford, the bust of Machiavel, the shadow or “silhouette” of the

Abbé Siéyès; the picture of his old friend Wilkes, in his aldermanic

gown as the prosperous and handsomely remunerated city chamberlain,

_ci-devant_ Wilkes and Liberty; “The effect in this picture to be

copied as exact as possible;” “A London Corresponding Society, _i.e._ a

Sketch for an English Directory;” with a folio of “Studies from French

masters, Robespierre, Tallien, Marat,” together with the prospectus for

a new work, “The Art of Political Painting, extracted from the works of

the most celebrated Jacobin professors.”

The Shakespeare Tavern, celebrated as the head-quarters of the Whig

party during Fox’s candidature for Westminster, was the scene of a

popular ovation on the twentieth anniversary of the Whig chief’s

election for that important constituency; the event was celebrated by

a public dinner, October 10, 1800. Fox had so long absented himself

from Parliament, feeling, as he declared, “his time of action was over

when those principles were extinguished on which he acted,” that his

reappearance excited the greatest enthusiasm amongst his partisans,

who were anxious both to hear his sentiments on the political outlook,

and to demonstrate their unabated attachment to the “Man of the

People,” who preferred to seclude himself from public business and

from the platform of his most brilliant oratorical triumphs, that he

“might steadily adhere to those principles which had guided his past

conduct.” Every room in the house was filled with company. In replying

to the cordial reception of his health, Fox reminded his auditors that

“During the twenty years I have represented you in Parliament I have

adhered to the principles on which the Revolution of 1688 was founded,

and what have been known as the old Whig principles of England;” and

recalled that his first connection with his constituents occurred

“during the calamitous war with America;” he then alluded to his

absence from Parliament, extended to three years, and thus eloquently

concluded: “I shall ever maintain that the basis of all parties is

justice--that the basis of all constitutions is the sovereignty of

the people--that from the people alone kings, parliaments, judges,

and magistrates derive their authority.” Gillray has embodied this

situation in his pictorial version of this most enthusiastic reception,

ungenerously representing Fox as “The Worn-out Patriot; or, the Last

Dying Speech of the Westminster Representative,” October 10, 1800.

The great statesman is depicted as both mentally and physically in a

state of decadence; Erskine is sustaining him with a bottle of brandy

to stimulate his strength artificially, while Harvey Combe, in his

robes as Lord Mayor, is lending his substantial support; a measure of

Whitbread’s “entire” is also ready for the emergency. Among the guests

are figured Sir J. Sinclair, and the gifted member for Southwark,

Tierney. The speech the satirist has sarcastically introduced is a

parody on that delivered by the Whig chief to the electors on the

occasion:--

“Gentlemen, you see I am grown quite an old man in your

service. Twenty years I’ve served you, and always upon the

same principles. I rejoiced at the success of our enemies in

the American War, and the war against the virtuous French

has always met with my most determined opposition; but the

infamous Ministry will not make peace with our enemies, and are

determined to keep me out of their councils and out of place.

Therefore, gentlemen, as their principles are quite different

from mine, and as I am now too old to form myself according

to their systems, my attendance in Parliament is useless, and,

to say the truth, I feel that my season of action is past, and

I must leave to younger men to act, for, alas! my failings and

weaknesses will not let me now recognize what is for the best.”

[Illustration:

THE WORN-OUT PATRIOT, OR THE LAST DYING SPEECH OF THE WESTMINSTER

REPRESENTATIVE, ON THE ANNIVERSARY MEETING, HELD AT THE SHAKESPEARE

TAVERN, OCTOBER 10, 1800. BY JAMES GILLRAY. ]

Pointed and pungent as is this version, it is on record that Fox’s

mental activity was still most brilliant; indeed, to the extent of

converting his consistent enemy, George III. The supposed “Worn-out

Patriot” lived to form an administration in 1806 in conjunction with

Lord Grenville, who made Fox’s accession to power a _sine quâ non_. He

filled the office of Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs at perhaps

the most delicate and critical period of our history, when Napoleon

entertained designs against England; and on the death of the patriotic

statesman, the king declared “he had never known the duties of that

office so efficiently discharged for the honour of the country.”

“Who,” remarked a contemporary, “in reviewing Fox’s noble

adherence to the cause of Liberty, as it affected the American

nation, and weighing the wisdom of his forewarnings of the

fatal consequences of the American War, but must admire the

prophetic spirit with which he foretold all the direful events

which resulted both to the Mother Country and her colonies from

that unnatural fratricidal war.”

The first Parliament after the Union with Ireland met January 22,

1801, and was marked by the reappearance of Fox and the election of

Horne Tooke for the borough of Old Sarum through the influence of Lord

Camelford. The return of one who had been in holy orders involved a

great constitutional question; his admission was opposed on the ground

of his clerical profession, and it led to a bill making clergymen

incapable of sitting in parliament. Tooke occupied his seat until the

next dissolution, which occurred the year following, when he was no

longer eligible. The circumstances are commemorated in a caricature

by Gillray, entitled, “Political Amusements for Young Gentlemen, or

the Brentford Shuttlecock between Old Sarum and the Temple of St.

Stephen’s,” March, 1801. Lord Temple led the opposition to Tooke’s

admission, and he is represented as resisting his entrance to the

House, within which Fox is pictured crying, “The Church for Ever!” Lord

Camelford, who was in the navy, is batting the shuttlecock from Old

Sarum (the electors depicted as swine at a trough) to the Commons; he

cries, “There’s a stroke for you, messmate; and if you kick him back,

I’ll return him again, if I should be sent on a cruise to Moorfields

for it! Go it, Coz.” Lord Temple is replying, “Send him back? Yes, I’ll

send him back twenty thousand times, before such a high-flying Jacobin

shuttlecock shall perch it here in his Clerical band.” Lord Camelford’s

“List of Candidates” includes, besides Tooke, the names of Black Dick

(his negro servant), and orator Thelwall, in case his ex-clerical

nominee’s election was annulled; but his lordship disclaimed ever

having entertained the intention of offering so gross an insult to the

House. The inscriptions on the feathers stuck in the head of the noble

lord’s plaything, “The Old Brentford Shuttlecock,” are intended to

indicate his character.

[Illustration: Lord Temple.

J. Horne Tooke.

Lord Camelford.

POLITICAL AMUSEMENTS FOR YOUNG GENTLEMEN, OR THE BRENTFORD SHUTTLECOCK

BETWEEN OLD SARUM AND THE TEMPLE OF ST. STEPHEN’S. 1801. BY J. GILLRAY.]

[Illustration:

THE OLD BRENTFORD SHUTTLECOCK--JOHN HORNE TOOKE RETURNED FOR

OLD SARUM. 1801. #/ ]

Though the cause of Sir Francis Delaval suffered at Andover from a

_contretemps_ in which the commanding officer of the district was

concerned, by an opposite course of events the return of Mr. N.

Jefferys for Coventry was assured through military intervention.

When writs were issued for a new parliament in 1802, a meeting was

convened at Coventry, when it was resolved to invite Mr. Jefferys

again to become a candidate to represent them, and to support his

re-election. Upon Mr. Jefferys accepting this invitation, and

proceeding down to Coventry to meet his constituents, his entrance

into the city was unhandsomely opposed, a riot ensued, and things

began to look dangerous, when Captain Barlow of the First Dragoon

Guards, who happened to be there, his regiment being stationed in the

neighbourhood, exerted himself with much spirit to quell the riot and

protect the candidate and his friends from insult. Rarely has a casual

and unexpected service been more singularly acknowledged; Captain

Barlow was at once invited to join Mr. Jefferys as second Conservative

candidate, which he readily accepted; the show of hands at the hustings

was in his favour, and both were triumphantly returned. The contest was

a close one; Captain Barlow stood at the head of the poll with 1197

votes, N. Jefferys was elected with 1190; and the two Whig candidates

were defeated--Wilberforce Bird with 1182, and Peter Moore with 1152

votes.

The Middlesex election of 1804 vividly recalled the previous excitement

manifested at the Brentford hustings on the return of John Wilkes;

the new party of “root-and-branch reformers,” more extreme in their

political views than the Foxites, were now becoming most conspicuous

by their agitations for the revision of the Constitution, and began

to be known under the designation of Radicals. At the head of these

“patriots” in the House of Commons were several of the younger

politicians and “new luminaries,” such as Whitbread, Lord Folkestone,

and others; but the most prominent leader of the movement was Sir

Francis Burdett, then occupying the position previously held by “Wilkes

and Liberty” at the commencement of the reign, and by Fox before his

secession from Parliament. Horne Tooke, who passed out-of-doors as

the baronet’s political sponsor, “guide, philosopher, and friend,”

was actively supporting his pupil, and William Cobbett was, by his

energetic writings, proselytizing in the same cause, and was generally

regarded as the apostle of the latest sect. In the same ranks were

included the wealthy Bosville and other zealous partisans. At the

Middlesex election of 1802, Sir Francis Burdett, in the Radical

interest, had unseated the Tory candidate, W. Mainwaring, polling

nearly double the votes obtained by the ministerial candidate, who had

represented the county from 1784.

In 1804, the election for Middlesex was equally trying for the

administration as the memorable struggle at Westminster in 1784, and

recalled the scenes witnessed on the same spot in 1786. Gillray has

commemorated this occurrence in one of his most elaborate caricatures,

published August 7, 1804:--“Middlesex Election, 1804--a Long Pull, a

Strong Pull, and a Pull All Together;” the hustings at Brentford appear

in the distance, whereon the ministerial candidate is holding forth

to an exuberant crowd, amidst which derisive symbols are displayed--a

huge begging-box, a gallows with an effigy suspended, and a banner

inscribed, “No Begging Candidate.” The head-quarters of the Court

party, at the sign of the Constitution (a crown and mitre) placarded

with posters, “Mainwaring, King, and Country,” and advertising “good

entertainment,” is treated to a perfect shower of missiles and dirt; a

free fight is proceeding at a distance. Beneath the standard claiming

“Independence and Free Elections,” now a reasonable aspiration, but,

in those days, regarded as little short of sedition, a rat is hung to

a lantern, expressive of contempt for “ministerial rats.” Sir Francis

Burdett is carried triumphantly to the hustings; his barouche, drawn by

the most illustrious members of the opposition, is emblazoned on the

panels with suggestive devices: “Peace” is figured as a French eagle,

with the legend, “_Égalité_;” the Torch of Liberty is a flaming and

incendiary brand; and “Plenty” is symbolized by a pot of porter with

the head of Bonaparte on the measure. Beneath the wheels of Burdett’s

chariot is figured a dog with “A Cur-tis” on his collar, a blow at

Sir William Curtis, enriched by “fat” Government contracts; by him is

Tooke’s tract, “A Squeeze for Contractors.” On the box is the baronet’s

reputed preceptor, the Brentford Parson himself, “in his habit as he

lived,” smoking his pipe like his confederate “Bellenden,” that

“revolution sinner” Dr. Parr; from the prime agitator’s pockets fall

the speeches, “hints,” and addresses it is implied he had prepared for

his hopeful pupil.

[Illustration: MIDDLESEX ELECTION, 1804. A LONG PULL--A STRONG

PULL--AND A PULL ALL TOGETHER. BY JAMES GILLRAY.

[_Page 312._]

“The Party” is doing its utmost to forward Burdett’s career, and to

mortify the Ministry. Tyrwhitt Jones and General Fitzpatrick, eccentric

and independent politicians, are leading the “marrow-bone and cleaver”

music; two lines of influential Whig statesmen are propelling the car;

Bosville, Grey, the Duke of Northumberland, the Marquis of Lansdowne,

and the Duke of Norfolk in one file, and Lord Carlisle, the Duke of

Bedford, Lord Derby, and Fox in the other, all travestied felicitously

under disguises which the caricaturist has suggested as appropriate

to their characters or situations. Lord Moira (Marquis of Hastings),

with the prince’s plume on his instrument, is acting as drummer.

Behind the carriage rides Erskine in his bar robes, with the cap of

liberty on a pike, marked “The Good Old Cause.” Tierney has “The Key

of the Bastille,” in allusion to Burdett’s exertions on behalf of the

political prisoners with which the prisons, such as Coldbath Fields,

were at that time filled; while Sheridan is raising aloft the pictorial

version of the “Governor in All His Glory,” _i.e._ Pitt flogging

Britannia, who is fixed in the pillory, of which an enlarged version

appears.

[Illustration: BRITANNIA FLOGGED BY PITT--THE GOVERNOR IN ALL HIS

GLORY. 1804.]

The election contests in 1806 and 1807, which ensued on the death of

Fox, fully occupied the pencil of Gillray: his elaborate cartoons, of

which reduced _fac-similes_ are given, prove that election squibs must

in his day have enjoyed a large circulation; the artist seems to have

developed them into elaborate conceptions. Westminster was again the

constituency, where the struggle was regarded as of most absorbing

interest. Sheridan, who had sat for Stafford from 1780, now flattered

himself that his popularity and his intimacy with Fox would, on the

decease of the Whig chief, point him out as the natural successor of

the illustrious statesman. He found an embarrassing opponent in James

Paull (the son of a prosperous tailor), who had returned from India,

where he filled an appointment, and brought home with him a moderate

fortune and liberal ideas as regarded administrative reform. His

candidature for Westminster was supported by the influence of all the

advanced politicians, the ultra-Liberals, and the Radical Reformers.

In the first of Gillray’s satires on this topic, the “Triumphal

Procession of Little Paull, the Tailor, upon his new Goose,” November

8, 1806, Sir Francis Burdett, who was for some time travestied as “The

Famous Green Goose,” is lending Little Paull a helping mount; Tooke

is leading his pupil; Colonel Bosville is distributing money to make

the candidate popular; Cobbett, with “Political Register” in hand, is

canvassing for Paull and “Independence and Public Justice”--referring

to the new patriot’s articles of impeachment against the Marquis of

Wellesley on his return from India. In view of the energetic tactics of

the new candidate and his allies, Sir Samuel Hood and Sheridan thought

it advisable to combine their interests, and make a coalition for the

occasion. The situation is pictorially summed up as “The High-flying

Candidate, Little Paull Goose, mounting from a Blanket--_Vide_ Humours

of Westminster Election” (November 11, 1806). Paull, according to

the ungenerous practice of all concerned, was taunted with being the

son of a tailor. Sir Samuel Hood, with one arm lost in his country’s

service, and Sheridan in sables for his late friend, and with the farce

of “The Devil Among the Tailors” in his pocket, are together raising

their high-flying antagonist in the “Coalition Blanket.” The Admiral’s

sailors and patriotic volunteers for Sheridan are alike pronouncing

emphatically for the combined names of the two senior candidates. At

the feet of the Coalition members is the memorial slab to departed

greatness, “Sacred to the Memory of Poor Charley, late member for

the City of Westminster,” “We ne’er shall look upon his like again;”

the monument is thrust aside by the outraged spirit of the deceased

patriot, who is in anguish exclaiming, “_O tempora! O mores!_”

[Illustration: Lord Granville.

Mellish.

Marquis of Buckingham.

Lord Temple.

Head of Fox.

Byng.

Wm. Cobbett.

Sheridan and Sir Samuel Hood.

James Paull.

Napoleon as Postillion.

Sir F. Burdett.

J. Horne Tooke.

Col. Bosville.

POSTING TO THE ELECTION; OR, A SCENE ON THE ROAD TO BRENTFORD. 1806. BY

JAMES GILLRAY.

[_Page 315._]

[Illustration: Sir Samuel Hood. James Paull. R. B. Sheridan.

THE HIGHFLYING CANDIDATE, LITTLE PAULL GOOSE, MOUNTING FROM A

BLANKET--_Vide_ HUMOURS OF WESTMINSTER ELECTION. 1806. BY J.

GILLRAY.]

Gillray’s third caricature on the general election of 1806 exhibits

a spirited panorama of the procession to the hustings as “Posting to

the Election: a Scene on the Road to Brentford,” in which each of the

candidates is hastening in the way supposed to best characterize his

prospects and party: William Mellish, who enjoyed the interest of the

Coalition Ministry then in office, is driven in style, in a dashing

“Rule Britannia and the Bank” four-in-hand, under the “Flag of Loyalty

and Independence,” by Lord Granville as coachman; Lords Temple and

Castlereagh, and the Marquis of Buckingham are perched behind; the

latter is giving a sly helping pull to the post-chaise and pair in

which is seated George Byng--“in the good old Whig interest;” the head

of Fox is displayed on the box as “the good old Whig Block.” Prominent

in the foreground is the grand _melée_ of the Coalition candidates

for Westminster--Sheridan and Sir Samuel Hood, mounted on a prancing

brewer’s horse, just escaped from the dray, with panniers overflowing

with gold pieces, and labelled, “Subscription Malt and Hops from the

Whitbread Brewery.”

[Illustration: COALITION CANDIDATES--SHERIDAN AND SIR SAMUEL HOOD.

1806.]

Burdett’s ballad-singers and marrow-bone-and-cleaver men are scattered

by the plunging dray-horse from Whitbread’s, and the startled donkey,

which bears little Paull, is giving the rider an upset, in which

Paull’s famous “Impeachment of the Marquis of Wellesley” is falling

to the ground. Last comes Sir Francis Burdett, who, on this occasion,

experienced a mortifying defeat in the face of his former triumphs

at Brentford; the gay barouche of 1800 and 1804 has given place to

an “untaxed cart” with four miserable jackasses; the efforts of a

posse of sweeper-boy followers with difficulty extricate this shabby

conveyance from the slough. Acting as postillion is the little

Corsican, Bonaparte, then but recently elected Emperor of the French.

It was at this time one of the theories of Napoleon I., that, after

the visionary conquest of England, he would inaugurate a republic,

for the presidency of which he declared Sir Francis Burdett to be, in

his estimation, the fittest person in England; this opinion, it is

believed, was shared by the baronet--an entertaining aspect of the

“might-have-beens”! “Liberty and Equality, No Placemen in Parliament,

and No Bastilles,” are the watchwords of the party in the condemned

cart; all the members wear “Liberty” favours in their hats. Burdett has

“The Life of Oliver Cromwell” for consultation ready at hand; behind

him is his political preceptor, Horne Tooke, shown in parsonic guise,

and Bosville with the “Rights of Man” next his heart. Cobbett appears

as the “Radical Drummer,” beating up recruits for Burdett and Paull,

with his “Political Register” and “Inflammatory Letters.” “Orator

Broad-face, of Swallow Street,” whose mob pleasantries overpowered the

veteran Sheridan at Covent Garden, is among the baronet’s enthusiastic

supporters.

[Illustration: A RADICAL DRUMMER. 1806. W. COBBETT.]

[Illustration: Sir Samuel Hood.

Whitbread.

Sheridan.

James Paull.

Sir F. Burdett.

VIEW OF THE HUSTINGS IN COVENT GARDEN--WESTMINSTER ELECTION. 1806. BY

J. GILLRAY.]

It was at the Westminster election of 1806 that the excitement

culminated. This long and expensive contest was fruitful in incidents.

Gillray has produced the most characteristic “View of the Hustings in

Covent Garden.” At the time this version appeared, Paull was at the

head of the poll; he is shown vigorously denouncing his discomfited

antagonist--“Harlequin Sherry” as “the sunk, the lost, the degraded

treasurer.” Immediately behind Paull is the Duke of Northumberland,

whose son, Lord Percy, had relinquished Westminster after representing

it in parliament for one session, that immediately following Fox’s

decease; the Duke has “No Coalition” inscribed on his hat, and a

“Letter to the Vestry of St. Margaret’s” in his hand. Cobbett, Burdett,

and Bosville, wearing favours for Paull, are in the front ranks of his

supporters. Sheridan, exhorted to “Pay your Debts, Mr. Treasurer,” is

represented as filled with consternation; Whitbread is vainly trying

to rally his spirits with his “New Loyal Porter;” Sir Samuel Hood

is seemingly ashamed of his colleague, and is chuckling over his

confusion. The exchange of personalities between Paull and Sheridan,

who was assisted by the notorious “Pickle,” his son Tom, exceeded

all that had gone before, and degenerated into “Billingsgate” abuse.

Sheridan, with questionable propriety, dwelt more particularly on the

descent of his opponent from “tailordom,” and was waggish in allusions

to the “ninth part of a man.” Paull complimented Sheridan on “his good

taste,” and justified it by referring to the manager of Drury Lane as

the “son of a vagabond,” actors being by Act of Parliament classed in

that category. Paull was the readier at mob oratory, and Sheridan,

“erst the wit of the Commons,” found the hustings a terrible penance;

his appearance was the signal for violent uproar, and requests for

“renters’ shares” and sums of money owing, and for which it was alleged

he was liable. Painfully conscious of his familiar embarrassments,

this raillery, in the presence of persons of credit and influence

whose support was growing lukewarm, broke down the spirit of the

veteran champion of this order of encounter. He had trusted to his

well-seasoned experience in mob demonstrations, to his playful wit, apt

jocularities, and sarcasms to convert the mob to good humour, and to

cajole them with his popular persuasions into a friendly disposition;

but he reckoned without allowing for rivalry. Besides the fluent

Paull, there was one man in the crowd who fairly compelled “Sherry” to

retire abashed; in vain he tried by turns ridicule and denunciation of

“hireling ruffians,” the broad-faced orator in the green coat seemed

stimulated by these counter-attacks. A comedy was then popular in

which a dandy was repeatedly quizzed by inquiries, directed to the

various portions of his apparel, of “Who suffers?” This artillery

was constantly played upon Sheridan: “Sherry, I see you’ve got a new

coat--who suffers?” “Sherry, who suffers for that new hat?” After this

the disconcerted treasurer avoided the hustings, and his son Tom, whose

cool audacity was proverbial, managed to take his place. Sheridan only

gained the election through his coalition with Hood; but the shafts of

Cobbett’s “porcupine quills” and the conflict of the hustings rankled

in his breast. A dissolution shortly followed, and he lost his seat,

which, by precipitating his financial difficulties, ingloriously

finished Sheridan’s career.

The defeat of the famous Coalition Ministry of “All the Talents”

upon the vexed question of Catholic Emancipation was the cause of

a fresh appeal to the country early in 1807, when the followers of

the late Granville Administration contested the constituencies at a

disadvantage, confronted with the popular cries of “Church and King”

and “No Popery.” Paull now flattered himself that his chances of being

returned for Westminster were reviving, but candidates were more

numerous, and Sir Francis Burdett, who was discouraged by his last

experience from contesting Middlesex, was appealing to Westminster

himself. Paull advertised a dinner to be held at the Crown and Anchor,

and as Burdett had promised his support, and had actually gone to the

length of nominating Paull, he was announced, without authority it

appeared, to take the chair; this was the cause of a rupture between

the prominent Radical candidates. Two days before the meeting, Burdett

wrote to Paull:--

[Illustration:

PATRIOTS DECIDING A POINT OF HONOUR; THE DUEL AT WIMBLEDON,

BETWEEN SIR FRANCIS BURDETT AND JAMES PAULL. WESTMINSTER

ELECTION. 1807. BY JAMES GILLRAY. #/ ]

“I must say, to have my name advertised for such meetings is

like ‘Such a day is to be seen the great Katterfelto,’ and this

without any previous consent or application. From any one else

I should regard it as an insult!”

At the dinner, it was explained by Sir Francis’s brother that Burdett

had given no promise to preside; after the meeting broke up, Paull

waited on his proposer, and a warm altercation ensued, when a hostile

meeting was arranged to take place the next morning near Wimbledon.

This duel is made the subject of a fresh satire by Gillray--“Patriots

Deciding a Point of Honour! or, the Exact Representation of the

Celebrated Rencontre which took place at Combe Wood on May 2nd, 1807,

between Little Paull the Tailor and Sir Francis Goose.” On the field of

honour, Burdett continued to be travestied as the famous “great green

goose:” his letter to the electors at the Crown and Anchor is, with

other political and personal publications, scattered around as the

cause of the encounter; one pair of pistols is already discharged. At

the second exchange of shots, which Paull demanded, as Burdett declined

to apologize, both combatants were wounded, as shown in the picture.

Sir Francis was highly indignant, according to the satirist’s version:

“What, must I be out! and a Tailor get into Parliament?--You’re a

liar! I never said that I would sit as Chairman on your Shopboard!”

Paull, who is girt with a huge pair of shears sword-wise, responds,

“A liar!--Sir, I’m a Tailor and a Gentleman, and I must have

satisfaction.” Bellenden Kerr and Cooper, the seconds of the respective

combatants, are provided with two armfuls of pistols for the emergency,

which Sam Rogers described as “ending in a lame affair.”

[Illustration:

THE POLL OF THE WESTMINSTER ELECTION, 1807. ELECTION

CANDIDATES, OR THE REPUBLICAN GOOSE AT THE TOP OF THE POLL. ON

THE POLL: BURDETT, COCHRANE, ELLIOTT, SHERIDAN, PAULL; BELOW

ARE TEMPLE, GREY, GRANVILLE, PETTY, ETC. BY JAMES GILLRAY. #/ ]

The further results of the contest are shown as the “Poll of the

Westminster Election.” According to Gillray’s figurative version,

Burdett, still as the goose with wounded limb, is pitchforked

to the top, whence he is hissing at the Crown as the “Sun of the

Constitution;” his political tutor, travestied as the Evil One, is

helping his rise; Lord Cochrane, flourishing a club, marked, “Reform,”

is second; Elliot, the brewer, as “Quassia,” is overset; Sheridan, in

his old Harlequin suit, is slipping down, never to rise again; and

Paull, with his leg damaged, has come down with a run, he having cut

an insignificant figure in the polling; the members of the dismissed

ministry are commemorating Burdett’s triumph with “rough music.” This

version, which contains a number of portraits, is entitled--

“Election Candidates; or, the Republican Goose at the Top of

the Pol(l)e--the Devil Helping Behind! _vide_ Mr. Paull’s

Letter, _article_ Horne Tooke. Also an exact representation

of Sawney M’Cockran (Lord Cochrane) flourishing the Cudgel of

Naval Reform, lent him by Cobbett, and mounting triumphantly

over a small Beer Barrel, together with an old Drury Lane

Harlequin trying in vain to make a spring to the top of the

pole, and slipping down again; and lastly, poor Little Paull,

the Tailor done over! wounded by a Goose, and not a leg to

stand on.” (May 20, 1807.)

[Illustration:

THE HEAD OF THE POLL; OR, THE WIMBLEDON SHOWMAN AND HIS PUPPET.

1807. TOOKE AND BURDETT. #/ ]

The support and assistance afforded by the author of the “Diversions

of Purley” to his pupil are further indicated in a caricature which

represented the “Brentford Parson” carrying the candidate at the end

of his _pole_, and, as in the former example, exhibiting Burdett to

the crowd assembled in Covent Garden, under the title of “The Head of

the Poll; or, the Wimbledon Showman and his Puppet.” Horne Tooke is

advertising “The finest puppet in the world, gentlemen; entirely of my

own formation. I have only to say the word, and he’ll do anything.”

Another view of a hustings is afforded by the caricaturist. From the

platform a select few of superannuated statesmen are addressing the

constituents, in this instance pictured as calves. This version,

which is by Gillray, represents a phase of the “Patriotic Petitions

on the Convention” (of Cintra); “The Chelmsford Petition,” with

Patriots addressing the Essex Calves--who, it is notified, are “To

be sold to the highest bidder.” Lord Temple is unfolding the _Essex

Petition_--“Horrid Convention! Ministers firing the Park guns;

Armistice in French lingoes!” Earl St. Vincent is appealing to the

electors, and declaring that all the misfortunes are due to the want of

him; the gouty veteran is supported by the Marquis of Buckingham, who

is asserting “It’s all for want of us, Gentlemen Calves!” sentiments

which the other occupants of the platform, Windham and Lord Henry

Petty, are applauding.

[Illustration: Marquis of Buckingham.

Lord Temple.

Lord H. Petty.

Earl St. Vincent.

THE CHELMSFORD PETITION: PATRIOTS ADDRESSING THE ESSEX CALVES.]

A History of Parliamentary Elections and Electioneering in the Old Days Showing the State of Political Parties and Party Warfare at the Hustings and in the House of Commons from the Stuarts to Queen Victoria · 第 11 / 15 章