PARLIAMENT AT WORK (II)
The modern system of legislating by Bill and Statute dates from the
reign of Henry VI. In earlier days legislation was effected by means
of humble petitions presented to the Crown by the Commons, and granted
or refused according as the King thought fit.
Every Act of Parliament commences its existence in the shape of a
Bill. As such, it may be introduced in either House, though the
Commons have the undoubted monopoly of initiating financial measures,
and Bills for the restitution of honours and blood must originate with
the Lords. In the Upper House, any peer may introduce a Bill without
notice, but in the Commons a member must give notice of his intention
either to present a measure or move for leave to do so. A Bill whose
main object is to impose a charge upon the public revenue must first
be authorized by a resolution of a Committee of the Whole House.
Bills may be roughly classified under the two headings of Public and
Private, according as they affect the general interest or are framed
for the benefit of individuals or groups of individuals, though there
also exist hybrid Bills which cannot be rightly placed in either
category. But whatever their nature, Bills must pass through five
successive stages. In the House of Lords, however, the Committee and
Report stages are occasionally negatived in the case of Money Bills,
and the Committee stage of Private Bills is conducted outside the
House either before the Chairman of Committees or, in case of
opposition, by a Select Committee of the House.
In ancient days the proceedings were not so lengthy as they afterwards
became, a Bill being sometimes read three times and passed in a single
day;[393] but nowadays the passage through Parliament of a
Controversial Bill is a tedious affair.
[393] Hakewell's "Modus Tenendi Parliamentum," p. 142.
It will be sufficient for the purposes of this chapter to take the
example of a Public Bill introduced in the House of Commons, and
follow it from its embryonic state along the course of its career
until, as an Act of Parliament, it finally takes its place in the
statute-book of the land.
By obtaining the permission of the House, a Member of Parliament may
bring in a Bill upon any conceivable subject, but it is not always
possible for him to find the necessary opportunity for doing so,
unless he happens to be exceptionally favoured by fortune.[394] In
these days, when the time at the disposal of Parliament is altogether
inadequate to the demands made upon it by legislation, the chances of
passing a Bill without the support of the Government are for a private
member extremely small. Even with official assistance this is not
always an easy matter. It is perhaps as well that the passion for
legislation latent in the bosom of every politician should to some
extent be curbed. George II. said to Lord Waldegrave that Parliament
passed nearly a hundred laws every session, which seemed made for no
other purpose than to afford people the pleasure of breaking them, and
his opinion that the less legislation effected by Parliament the
better for the country is still popular in many quarters.[395]
[394] Bills of the most fantastic kind are from time to time
introduced, though they seldom see the light of a Second Reading. In
1597 a member, Walgrave by name, brought in a Bill to prevent the
exportation of herrings to Leghorn, "which occasioneth both a very
great scarcity of Herrings within the Realm and is a great means of
spending much Butter and Cheese, to the great inhancing of the prices
thereof by reason of the said scarcity of Herrings."--D'Ewes'
"Journal," p. 562.
[395] Lord Waldegrave's "Memoirs," p. 133.
On the third day of every session the question of the priority of
members' claims to introduce Bills and motions is decided by ballot.
A member who is lucky, and has, if necessary, obtained the leave of
the House, can introduce his Bill briefly and without debate. Taking
his stand at the bar, he awaits the summons of the Speaker, when,
advancing to the Table, he hands to the Clerk a "dummy" on which the
title of the Bill is written. This the Clerk proceeds to read to the
House. The Bill is then considered to have been read a first time, and
ordered to be printed, and a day is fixed for the Second Reading.
The First Reading is looked upon as a mere matter of form, and rarely
opposed.[396] It is on the Second Reading, when the principle of the
Bill is by way of being discussed, that any real antagonism begins to
make itself felt. Opponents may negative the motion that the Bill be
_now_ read a second time--in which case the motion may be repeated
another day--or may adopt the more usual and polite method of moving
that the Bill be read "this day six (or three) months"--the intention
being to destroy the Bill by postponing the Second Reading until after
the prorogation of Parliament. No Bill or motion on which the House
has given such a decision may be brought up again during the same
session, so that a postponement of the reading is merely a courteous
way of shelving it altogether.[397]
[396] In June, 1835, however, a Mr. Fox Maule was refused permission
to bring in a Bill "for the better protection of tenants' crops in
Scotland from the ravages committed on them by several kinds of
game."--Grant's "Recollections," p. 38.
[397] Our ancestors were not always so well-mannered in their methods.
Once when a Bill had been returned to them from the Lords with an
amendment to a money clause, they expressed their active disapproval
by literally kicking it along the floor of the House, and so out at
the door. "Parl. Hist.," vol. xvii. p. 515.
A Bill that has successfully weathered a Second Reading stands
committed to a Committee of the Whole House, unless the House, on
motion, resolves that it be referred to some other kind of Committee,
viz., a Grand Committee, a Select Committee, or a Joint Committee of
both Houses.
When the House is to resolve itself into Committee a motion to that
effect is made in the Lords, to which an amendment may be moved; in
the Commons the Speaker leaves the chair, and the Chairman of
Committees at once presides, sitting in the Clerk's chair at the
Table. The Bill is then discussed clause by clause, and any number of
amendments may be proposed to each line, and any number of speeches
made by any member on each amendment. No limit is set to the number of
amendments that may be moved, provided they are relevant and
consistent with the policy of the Bill. This is therefore by far the
most lengthy stage of the Bill, and it was in order to accelerate the
progress of business that, in 1883, Standing Committees, consisting of
from sixty to eighty members, were created to which Bills relating to
Law and Trade were to be referred instead of to the Committee of the
Whole House.
When the Bill has passed through the Committee stage, it is reported
to the House with or without amendments. In the former case, a day is
fixed for the discussion of its altered shape, and on this "Report"
stage further amendments may be made. At the Third Reading a Bill may
still be rejected, or postponed "for six months," or re-committed, but
in the Commons no material amendments may be made to it. This stage is
usually taken at once after the Report; but in the Lords the two
stages must be on different days, and amendments may be made after due
notice on the Third Reading.
When a Bill has safely passed all its stages in the Lower House, the
Clerk of the Commons attaches to it a polite message in
Norman-French--"soit baillé aux seigneurs"--and hands it to his
colleague in the Lords. The latter lays it on the Table of the Upper
House, where it lies until taken up by some peer--which must be done
within twelve sitting days, if the Bill is not to be lost (though it
may be raised from the dead by notice of a motion to revive it of the
same duration)--when its subsequent treatment, with the few
differences noted above, is very similar to that which it has already
undergone.
[Illustration: THE PASSING OF THE REFORM BILL IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS
FROM AN ENGRAVING AFTER THE PAINTING BY SIR J. REYNOLDS]
Should the Lords pass a Bill as it stands, a message to that effect is
sent to the Commons. If, however, they have made alterations, the
Clerk of the Parliaments writes, "A ceste bille avesque des amendemens
les seignieurs sont assentus" across it, and returns it to the Clerk
of the other House.[398] The Commons then proceed to consider the
Lords' amendments on some future day. If the two Houses cannot agree,
they must either summon a Conference--nowadays an unusual step to
take[399]--or a Select Committee of the dissenting House sends a
specially prepared message to the other Chamber, explaining the
reasons for its disagreement. Numerous messages may pass in this way,
for the purpose of coming to an agreement; but if they fail, the Bill
is lost for the Session.
[398] It may be observed that among the many traditionary differences
of opinion entertained by the two Houses is a divergence as to the
proper spelling of the word "seigneurs."
[399] A Conference of both Houses has not been held since 1836.
When a Bill has passed both Houses, nothing remains but to give it the
Royal Assent, which is done by the Clerk of the Parliaments.[400]
[400] The Clerkship of the Parliaments is an ancient office, dating
from the commencement of the fourteenth century. It was originally
held by an ecclesiastic, to whom were assigned, in times when the two
Houses sat together, the clerical work of Parliament. The Clerk of the
Parliaments is appointed by the Crown under Letters Patent, and can
only be removed by the Crown on an address from the House of Lords. Up
to the year 1855, the post was a lucrative sinecure, worth about £7000
a year, the actual duties of the office being performed by the Clerk
Assistant. At the beginning of the nineteenth century, the Clerk of
the Parliaments enjoyed the privilege of nominating and appointing all
the clerks on the House of Lords establishment, but in 1824 the
appointment of the two other Clerks at the Table was transferred to
the Lord Chancellor. He still, however, appoints all the other clerks,
regulates and controls the duties and promotion of the staff, appoints
the Librarian and his assistant, and exercises superintendence over
the Library and the Refreshment Department of the House. It is his
duty to attend all the sittings of the House, to call on the Orders of
the Day, and to invite peers to bring forward their Bills or Motions.
He also performs functions analogous to those of the Speaker in the
Commons, when he signs Addresses to the sovereign, other Addresses of
thanks or condolence, the minutes of the daily proceedings, and all
the returns ordered by the House. As registrar of the Court of Final
Appeal, he takes the instructions of the judicial authorities upon all
questions relating to appeals, and keeps a record of all judgments,
etc. Lastly, and this is perhaps not the least important of his
duties, he gives the Royal Assent to Bills.
The Royal Assent is nowadays a mere formality--a final ceremonial
which marks the last stage of a Bill's progress ere it becomes law. It
is usually given by the Lords Commissioners, who act as
representatives of the Crown, though there is nothing to prevent a
sovereign from performing this duty himself. On August 2, 1831, when
the Bill making separate financial provision for Queen Adelaide
received the Royal Assent, both the King and Queen attended in
Parliament, and the latter acknowledged her indebtedness by bowing
thrice, presumably to King, Lords and Commons. As a rule, however, the
sovereign is not present on these occasions, his place being taken by
a Commission. This consists of the Lord Chancellor and two other
Lords, who take their seats, prior to the ceremony, upon a form placed
between the Throne and the Woolsack. The Gentleman Usher of the Black
Rod is then commanded to summon the faithful Commons, and, on the
arrival of the latter at the bar of the Lords, the titles of the
various Bills are read aloud by the Clerk of the Crown, and the Royal
Assent is given by the Clerk of the Parliaments in old-fashioned
Norman-French. In the case of a Money Bill, brought up by the Speaker
of the Commons, and received by the Clerk of the Parliaments, who
bears it to the Table bowing, the formula runs as follows:--
"Le Roi remerçie ses bons sujets, accepte leur benevolence, et ainsi
le veult."
In the case of a Public or Private Bill, the respective phrases, "Le
Roi le veult" or "Soit fait comme il est désiré" are substituted,
though, as a matter of practice, the latter phrase is only used for
Estate, Naturalisation and Divorce Bills.
In olden days, when the Crown was often in the habit of refusing to
consent to the passing of particular Bills, the words used by the
Clerk of the Parliaments to signify the royal veto were "Le Roi
s'avisera." In this way Queen Elizabeth quashed no less than
forty-eight Bills that had passed through Parliament, and William III.
similarly declined to assent to the Parliamentary Proceedings Bill of
1693, much to the annoyance of the Commons. But never since Queen Anne
vetoed the Scotch Militia Bill, in 1707, has any sovereign refused the
Royal Assent.
All questions before Parliament are decided by the voice of the
majority. And though, as Gladstone once said, decision by majorities
may be as much an expedient as lighting by gas, it is an expedient
that answers very well in practice, and for which an effective
substitute has yet to be found. Majority may sometimes seem a clumsy
argument, but it always remains "the best repartee."
The procedure in either House for ascertaining the general opinion
upon any measure or motion differs but slightly in form, and not at
all in principle. At the end of every debate the question under
discussion is laid before the House by its Speaker or Chairman. This
he does by rising in his place and saying, "The question is that ..."
(here follows the exact words of the motion). "As many as are of that
opinion say 'Aye!'; as many as are of the contrary opinion say 'No!'"
(In the Lords the words "Content" and "Not Content" are substituted
for "Aye" and "No.") Members or peers thereupon express their views in
the required manner, and the Speaker (or Chairman), gathering what is
called the "sense of the House" by the volume of sound proceeding from
either party, says, "I think the Ayes (or Noes)"--or, in the Lords
"the Contents" or "Not Contents"--"have it!"
If the judgment of the Chair be unchallenged, the question is deemed
to be resolved in the affirmative or negative, as the case may be, and
nothing further remains to be done. Should, however, either party
question the correctness of the Chairman's opinion, recourse is had to
a division, and certain necessary formalities have to be observed
before the matter is definitely settled one way or the other.
When a division is challenged in the House of Commons, the Speaker (or
Chairman) orders the Sergeant-at-Arms to "Clear the lobby," and the
tellers' doors leading from the lobbies, as well as the door leading
from the Central Hall, are immediately locked. After the lapse of two
minutes, during which the loud division-bells are set ringing all over
the building to summon breathless members to the Chamber, the question
is again put from the Chair. If once more challenged, the Speaker
names two members of either party to act as "tellers." Should no one
be found willing to undertake this duty, a division cannot take place,
and the Speaker declares that the "Noes" have it. If, however, tellers
are duly appointed, they take their place at the exit doors leading
from the two lobbies, which are now unlocked. After another interval,
this time of four minutes' duration, the doors leading from the House
to the lobbies are locked. Meanwhile, all members who wish to vote
have left the Chamber, and are streaming through their respective
lobbies, where their names are recorded by clerks, while the tellers
count them as they pass through the lobby doors.
In the old days of St Stephen's Chapel, the "Ayes" used to remain in
the House, while the "Noes" withdrew, and were counted on their
return. This practice led to endless difficulties, many members
refusing to go out for fear of losing their seats, while others were
forcibly detained by their friends. In Elizabeth's time, Sir Walter
Raleigh admitted that he often held a fellow-member by his sleeve, and
others were accused of pulling each other back, as Cecil said, "like a
dog on a string."[401] Later on, it was decided that members who gave
their votes for the introduction of "any new matter" should alone
withdraw, while the votes of those who remained behind were recorded.
This system also had its disadvantages. In 1834, for instance, when a
certain Whig member, Colonel Evans, fell asleep in one of the side
galleries during a division, he woke to find that he had been counted
among the Tories, much to his disgust. Finally, two years later, the
practice of clearing the House altogether for a division was first
instituted, and continued in force until the establishment of the
modern method in 1906.[402]
[401] D'Ewes' "Journal," p. 683, and Townshend's "Proceedings of
Parliament," p. 322.
[402] In 1810, another system was temporarily introduced, the members
ranging themselves on either side of the House and being counted by
the tellers. Croker, when Ministerial teller, once accidentally missed
out a whole bench full of Government supporters, thereby reducing the
Ministerial majority by about forty. The Opposition teller watched the
error with a smile, but did not feel called upon to correct it. See
"The Observer," March 11, 1810.
When all members who desire to vote have filed through the lobbies,
and are once more reassembled in the House, the four tellers advance
together to the Table. The senior teller of the party having a
majority, walks on the right, bearing in his hand a slip of paper, on
which are written the numbers of the division. By the position of the
teller it is thus possible to gauge the result of a division before it
has been officially announced, and his advance to the Table in the
place of honour is usually the signal for an outburst of cheering from
his own victorious party. He proceeds to report the result of the
division to the Clerk at the Table, who writes the numbers on a piece
of paper, which he hands back to him. This the teller passes to the
Speaker, who, in turn, announces the numbers to the House. The doors
are then unlocked, and the division is at an end.
On one famous occasion the tellers failed to agree in their reports of
the figures. This happened on May 10, 1675, when the House in
Committee had divided on a motion with regard to the English regiments
serving in the French army. The tellers' difference of opinion gave
rise to a scene of great confusion, during which one member spat in
another's face, and a free fight would probably have ensued but for
the sudden arrival of the Speaker.
The amount of time spent in dividing has always been a source of
annoyance to earnest politicians, more especially when divisions are
made use of as a recognised form of obstruction, and the progress of
parliamentary business thereby much impeded. In 1902, to name a recent
example, the opponents of the Deceased Wife's Sister Bill, which had
already passed a Second Reading, deliberately walked so slowly through
the lobbies during four divisions that there was no time left to move
that it should be sent to a Grand Committee. Members naturally grudge
the precious hours wasted in trudging through the lobbies; but it
seems impossible to invent any scheme that shall further expedite
matters, the present system being apparently as perfect as the mind of
man can devise.[403]
[403] In the Session of 1881 the number of divisions was about 400; in
1908, including the autumn Session, the number was 463, and in 1909
the House of Commons divided 918 times.
When a division is called in the House of Lords, the procedure is very
similar in character to that of the Commons. The Chancellor (or Lord
on the Woolsack) orders strangers to withdraw by saying, "Clear the
bar!" and the Clerk of the Parliaments thereupon turns a two-minute
sand-glass.
When the sand has run out of the glass, the doors are locked, and the
question is once more put to the House. If the Lord Chancellor's
decision is challenged he at once says, "the 'Contents' will go to the
right by the Throne, and the 'Not Contents' to the left by the bar."
Each party then passes through its own lobby, the "Contents"
re-entering the House on the right of the bar, the "Not Contents"
through the door on the left of the Throne, their votes being duly
recorded by clerks in the lobbies. The subsequent procedure resembles
that in vogue in the Lower House.
Until 1857, when the present system was adopted, the "Contents"
remained within the bar, while the "Not Contents" went below the bar.
Peers, who through infirmity, or other causes, are disabled from
leaving the House, may by its permission be "told" in their seats, and
those who do not wish to vote at all are allowed to go within the
railings on the steps of the Throne.
In old days the practice of voting by proxy was habitual in the House
of Lords. During the reign of Edward I., nobles who were unable to
attend in person invariably sent messengers to act for them. Peers
were permitted to appoint any individuals to represent them, either
permanently or on special occasions, and, up to the fifteenth century,
these proxies did not even have to be peers themselves. In the time of
Henry VIII. the custom of allowing peers to represent one another was
first instituted, and in Charles I.'s day we find the Duke of
Buckingham holding no less than fourteen proxies. Such a custom
naturally led to many abuses, and an order was eventually passed
forbidding any peer to hold more than two proxies. Finally, in 1868,
the House of Lords realised that the practice was reprehensible, and
passed a Standing Order whereby the system of calling for proxies on a
division was discontinued.
To-day, peers are in some ways even more particular than their
colleagues in the Commons, and do not allow any one of their number to
take part in a division unless he has himself been in the House when
the question was put. In other respects they enjoy a wider latitude.
If a lord occasionally strays into the wrong lobby, he may refuse to
be counted by the tellers, and his vote may afterwards be recorded as
he desires. A member of the House of Commons who commits a like
indiscretion is required to bear the consequences, and can neither
alter nor rescind his vote.
In the event of an equal number of votes being recorded on either side
in a division the procedure differs in the two Houses. In the Lords
the question is invariably resolved in the negative, in accordance
with the ancient rule of the Law: "semper præsumitur pro negante." In
the Commons the Speaker has to decide it by a casting vote, which he
generally gives in such a manner as to leave the question open for
another division. This, however, is not always an easy task; indeed,
it is often a most invidious and unpleasant one. In April, 1805,
Speaker Abbot was compelled to give a casting-vote on the resolution
leading to the impeachment of Lord Melville. After ten minutes'
distressing hesitation, while the House remained in a state of
agonized suspense, Abbot reluctantly gave his vote against Lord
Melville, and thus secured the defeat of Pitt.[404]
[404] Only fifteen ties are known in the history of Parliament On
April 3, 1905, Speaker Gully gave a casting vote on the Embankment
Tramways Bill, as did Speaker Lowther, on July 22, 1910, on the
Regency Bill.
This is by no means the only instance of a momentous question such as
the life of a Government being decided by a single vote. The Second
Reading of the Reform Bill in 1831 was carried by a majority of one;
the House on that occasion presenting a sight which, as Macaulay said,
was to be seen only once and never to be forgotten. "It was like
seeing Cæsar stabbed in the Senate House, or seeing Oliver taking the
mace from the Table." When the tellers announced the majority the
victorious party shouted with joy, while some of them actually shed
tears. "The jaw of Peel fell; and the face of Twiss was as the face of
a damned soul; and Herries looked like Judas taking his necktie off
for the last operation." In 1854 Lord Russell was defeated and Sir
Robert Peel returned to victory on the crest of an equally diminutive
wave; and a century earlier Walpole's administration was overthrown by
a small majority of three.
A minority of one is more unusual, but not altogether unknown. At the
end of the eighteenth century, when the Duke of Somerset divided the
House of Lords on a question of war with France, he walked alone into
the Opposition division lobby. The same fate befell Dr. Kenealy in
1875, when his motion on behalf of the Tichborne Claimant was defeated
by 433 votes to 1. On July 16, 1909, when a division was taken on an
amendment to reject a Bill prohibiting foreign trawlers from landing
their catches at British ports, the Noes numbered 158 while there was
but a solitary Aye. And on July 18, 1910, on a motion for the
adjournment of the House, there was but a single No.
No secrecy is maintained as to the voting of peers or members in
divisions. In the old Journals of the Lords the division lists used
always to be entered, but in 1641 this practice was abandoned, and the
minority could only record an adverse vote by a formal protest of
dissent.[405] Division lists were not regularly printed in the Commons
until 1836, and the Lords followed suit about twenty years later.
[405] This right of protest recorded in the Journals of the House is
still occasionally exercised.
Divisions provide legislators with plenty of exercise, combined
occasionally with acute mental anxiety. The latter they share with
those hardworked and hardworking individuals, the "Whips" or
"Whippers-in," whose duties are at all times heavy and become
especially onerous with the approach of a division.
These Whips, who are four in number--two representing the Government,
two the Opposition--have rooms provided for them in the Lobby, and
hold positions of the utmost responsibility and influence. In the
House of Commons the office of principal Government Whip is one of
immense importance and requires, as Disraeli said, "consummate
knowledge of human nature, the most amiable flexibility, and complete
self-control."[406] As Patronage Secretary to the Treasury, with a
salary of £2000 a year, he is the descendant of that official,
sometimes known as the "Secretary for Political Jobs," who in former
times bought members, their votes and constituencies, and disposed of
the Government secret service money to obtain (and retain) a majority
for the party in power.
[406] "Life of Lord George Bentinck," p. 314.
The Chief Whip is generally assisted by two of the Junior Lords of the
Treasury, and, in conjunction with the Opposition Whips, arranges all
the details of the sessional campaign. On the occasion of important
debates the Whips conspire to choke off any garrulous nonentities who
may wish to make their voices heard, and practically arrange a list of
the influential speakers on both sides in the order in which they are
to address the House. At such a time the Speaker's eye may almost be
said to be a party to the conspiracy, though never yielding its
discretion to be caught by members whose names are not upon the Whips'
list.
Tact, good temper and unceasing vigilance are virtues necessary to
Whips. They must combine the discretion of the diplomatist with the
acumen of the sleuth-hound. It is their business to smooth the ruffled
feathers of any members who consider themselves aggrieved, to listen
patiently to the bores, to suffer the fools gladly. They are expected
to ascertain the "sense" of the House upon all important questions,
either by instinct, by worming their way into the confidence of
members, or by secret detective work in the Smoking Room. They must
keep their leader informed of their discoveries, and thus guard the
party against any sudden unexpected attack. If necessary they act as
emissaries or ambassadors between the party heads, arranging an
occasional compromise or deciding what particular questions shall be
discussed in an uncontroversial spirit.
The Whips have been called the autocrats of the House of Commons, but
though they rule individual members with an iron hand, it must ever be
their desire to keep their party contented and happy and harmonious.
When a private member is very anxious to escape from the House for a
holiday it is to the Whip he applies for permission. If possible he
"pairs" with some member on the other side who is equally desirous of
escaping. At the door of the House lies a book in which members
"pairing" with one another inscribe their names, and it is one of the
Whips' duties to arrange these "pairs," and, above all, to see that no
member gets away unpaired.
At a time when a ticklish division is expected, when the majority on
either side is uncertain, the Whips are stimulated to herculean
labours. Threats, entreaties, cajoleries, all must be employed to
bring members up to the scratch. The waverers must be secured, the
doubtful reassured. Nothing can be left undone to ensure that every
available member shall be in his place when the decisive moment
arrives. The byways and hedges are scoured for absentees, who are
besought to return at once to Westminster to record their votes and
perhaps save their party from defeat.
When Pulteney, whom Macaulay considered the greatest leader of the
Opposition that the House of Commons had ever seen, gathered his
forces in 1742 to overthrow Walpole, the Opposition left no stone
unturned to ensure a majority. They collected every man of the party,
no matter what excuses he put forward. One was brought into the House
in a dying condition, but contrived to defer his impending dissolution
until he had recorded his valuable vote. Both sides produced a number
of incurables, and the House looked (as Ewald says) more like the Pool
of Bethesda than a legislative assembly. The Prince of Wales was an
interested spectator of the scene. "I see," he remarked to General
Churchill, "you bring in the lame, the halt and the blind!" "Yes,"
replied the General, "the lame on our side, the blind on yours!"[407]
[407] Ewald's "Biography of Walpole," p. 419.
A similar scene took place in 1866 when the Russell-Gladstone Cabinet
was defeated over the Reform Bill. The Whips had achieved wonders in
collecting their flocks together; they had haled to Westminster the
sick, the senile, the decrepit, the doting and the moribund. The grave
alone seems to have been sacred from their ravages. Some of the
members, as we read in a contemporary account, "had been wooed from
the prostration of their couches; one had been taken from the delights
of his marriage-trip; and several from the bedsides of relatives in
extremity."[408]
[408] "Chambers' Journal," December 26, 1886, p. 819.
To be able to accomplish such feats the Whips must be well acquainted
with the habits and haunts of the individuals beneath their charge, so
that at any moment of the day or night they may send a telegram or a
message to an absentee whose presence is urgently required. Pepys in
his Diary (December 8, 1666) describes how the King gave an order "to
my Lord Chamberlain to send to the playhouses and brothels, to bid
all the Parliament-men that were there to go to the Parliament
presently," to vote against some Bill of which he disapproved. The
modern Whip in like manner must be ready at any moment to despatch an
urgent summons to the Opera, to the Clubs, to houses where parties are
being given, recalling members to their parliamentary duties. And in
doing so he must exercise the greatest possible tact. The wife of a
much respected member of Parliament was sleeping peacefully in her bed
one night when a frantic message arrived from the party Whip imploring
her husband to come at once to Westminster. She remembered that her
spouse had informed her that he would probably be kept at the House
until late and had begged her not to sit up. Inspired with horrible
suspicions of conjugal perfidy, the good lady rose in haste and
hurried down to the House of Commons to confirm them. As a matter of
fact her husband had never left the precincts of Parliament, and the
Whip's message had been despatched in error. The member was therefore
much surprised at the sudden appearance of his wife upon the scene.
His attachment to home and duty had been equally unimpaired, and he
received her explanation somewhat coldly.
A notice, more or less heavily underlined, is sent to each member of
Parliament every morning, apprising him of the business of the day's
sitting and of the necessity for his presence in the House. These
"whips," as they are called, were in vogue as long ago as the year
1621, when, Porritt tells us, notices underlined six times were sent
to the King's friends.[409] The urgency of the summons can be gauged
by the number of underlines, and a "whip" that is underlined three
times can only be ignored at the peril of the member who receives
it.[410]
[409] Porritt's "Unreformed House of Commons," vol. i. p. 509.
[410] Until a few years ago all "whips" were underlined twice and in
urgent cases five times.
Though the Whips seldom address the House themselves, they must on all
occasions be ready to provide other speakers who shall feed the dying
embers of debate with fresh fuel. At all hazards the ball must be kept
rolling. Sometimes a debate shows signs of languishing in an
unexpected fashion, and the Whip is horrified to find that his usual
majority has dwindled away to nothing. When this occurs he must at
once find members who are willing to talk against time while he and
his colleagues hasten round and beat up a majority. On one famous
occasion within recent memory, while most of the supporters of the
Conservative Government were disporting themselves at Ascot on the Cup
day, the Opposition prepared to spring an unexpected division upon the
House. The situation was only saved by Mr. Chaplin, who spoke for
several hours, in spite of the howls of his opponents, while a special
train was bringing absentees from the racecourse to the House of
Commons.
It is, then, the Whip's duty, not only to "make" a House and to "keep"
a House, but also, like Sidmouth's sycophantic relatives, to "cheer
the Minister." To quote the lines of Canning--
"When the faltering periods lag,
Or the House receives them drily,
Cheer, oh, cheer him, Brother Bragge;
Cheer, oh, cheer him, Brother Riley!
"Brother Bragge and Brother Riley,
Cheer him! when he speaks so vilely,
Cheer him! when his audience flag,
Brother Riley, Brother Bragge!"[411]
[411] "Ode to the Doctor." (Bragge Bathurst, Lord Sidmouth's
brother-in-law, and Riley, his brother, were place-hunters who felt
bound to applaud their patron.)