It is not surprising that Parliamentary contests should have figured
largely in the English plays, stories, and poems of the past. That they
will hold so prominent a place in them in future is, of course, by no
means certain. If elections have been made purer than they were, they
have been made less picturesque. They have now but little romance about
them. Nearly everything in them is precise and practical. The literary
artist, therefore, is likely to find in them few things to attract him,
and will be, to that extent, at a disadvantage as compared with those
who have preceded him. There were days when the preliminary canvassing,
the nomination and the polling days, had features which invited
treatment on the stage or in print. The whole atmosphere of
electioneering was different to that which now exists. Those involved in
it went about their work with a reckless jollity productive of results
eminently interesting to students of character and manners. A battle at
the polls brought out all which was most characteristic in the
Englishmen of the times, and to describe such a conflict was naturally
the aim of many a man of letters.
Several theatrical pieces have been based almost wholly upon the varied
incidents of such a contest. There was, for example, that 'musical
interlude,' 'The Election,' written by Miles Peter Andrews, and produced
at Drury Lane in 1774. In this, Trusty and Sir Courtly are candidates
for a seat, and, while one John, a baker, would fain vote for the
former, his wife is desirous that he should support the latter. As she
wheedlingly remarks,
'Sir Courtly says, if you'll but vote for him,
He'll fill your pockets to the very brim.'
But John is not to be corrupted:
'Honest John no bribe can charm;
His heart is like his oven, warm;
Though poor as Job,
He will not rob,
Nor sell his truth to fill his fob.'
Nay, not though by so doing he may secure a husband for his daughter
Sally. He votes for Trusty, and Sally's sweetheart respects him all the
more for it. As the lover says to the lady:
'Your father's merit sets him up to view,
And more enhances my esteem for you.'
And, in truth, everybody is delighted, for, as they sing in chorus:
'What to a Briton so grateful can be,
As the triumph of Freedom and Virtue to see?'
Then there is that forgotten play of Joanna Baillie, also called 'The
Election,' printed in 1802, and turned into an opera in 1817. Here,
again, we have two candidates--one Baltimore, of ancient but decayed
family, and one Freeman, a _nouveau riche_ of equally familiar
type--neighbours, but not friends, and rivals for the representation of
the borough of Westown. Of Tom Taylor's 'Contested Election,' produced
in 1859, most people have heard, if they have not had an opportunity of
seeing it performed. It gives a fairly faithful picture of the
unreformed method of carrying on electoral warfare. There is an
attorney, originally played by Charles Mathews, who undertakes to secure
the success of Honeybun, and is quite prepared to pay for the votes
which may be promised to him. There is also one Peekover, President of
the Blue Lambs, who is equally prepared to accept the proffered payment
for himself and friends. Honeybun does not get in, but that is hardly
the fault of his attorney, or due to any general unwillingness to sell
votes to the highest bidder. Bribery, it will be remembered, is an
important element in Robertson's 'M.P.,' which dates no further back
than 1870, though the action of the comedy, if I remember rightly,
belongs also to pre-reforming times. Cecilia is willing to buy votes for
Talbot, and three typical electors are willing to dispose of her money
to the best advantage. The last scene is tolerably exciting. Talbot
addresses the crowd from his window, and there is much exhilaration
when the result of the contest is announced. To more recent
representations of elections on the stage, it is scarcely necessary to
allude.
Turning from drama to song, one thinks at once of the poem 'in seven
books' which its author, Carlyle's John Sterling, dubbed 'The Election'
and published in 1841. Sterling had been anticipated, a few years
previously--in 1835--by the author of a satire called 'Election Day,'
which supplied quite an elaborate description of such a day under the
respective heads of 'The Inn,' 'The Hustings,' 'The Chairing,' and 'The
Dinner.' 'Although,' said the writer, in his preface, 'there are some
great improvements in the manner in which elections are now conducted,
still the immoral and degrading principles that accompany them appear to
remain nearly the same.' According to this earnest and depressed
observer--
'Mud and stones and waving hats,
And broken heads and putrid cats,
Are offerings made to aid the cause
Of order, government, and laws.'
But especially is he struck by the amount of eating and drinking that
appears inseparable from an election in his time:
''Tis strange how much a splendid larder
Lights up electioneering ardour;
You soon awake to _patriae amor_
When stirred about with ale and clamour.'