CHAPTER X.

THE GREAT WESTMINSTER ELECTION OF 1784.

The excitement caused by Wilkes’s election for Middlesex in 1768 was forgotten in the great Westminster contest of 1784. Although on each occasion the conflicts were in opposition to those ministerial interests which enlisted the Crown, the courtiers, and the following of placemen, state pensioners, with both branches of the service upon the Tory side in antagonism to popular rights and the freedom of election, in both instances of overstrained influence the Government had to submit to the mortification of defeat. The circumstances preceding the Westminster election were exceptional. The Fox and North Coalition Administration had, by an overstrained exercise of the royal prerogative, through a “back-stair” Court intrigue, and by defiantly unconstitutional means on the part of the king, lost their hold on power, temporarily--as they then supposed--but, as subsequent events proved, beyond recall.

Fox had introduced his vast measure of reform for the reconstitution of our Eastern Empire. Passed by the majority commanded by the Coalition Ministry in the Commons, the Bill was--in direct deference to the king’s written instructions, freely heralded about--thrown out on the second reading in the Lords. Fox was feared by the king and the East India Company alike; it was apprehended that the great “Carlo Khan” was but beginning the work of revolution, and that all charters would be in equal jeopardy if that of the East India House was allowed to be revised. The wealth of the company was put into requisition to hurl from power the ministers who dared to legislate for the administration of the huge empire confided to their government; and the king chiefly aimed at the dismissal of the great Whig chief, against whom an unreasonable prejudice long continued to exist in the royal mind. On Fox’s defeat it was left to Lord Temple to constitute an administration which should satisfy the king; but although this juncture brought William Pitt to the front, it was found impossible to carry on the business of the country, the ministry, too weak to divide, being beaten on every measure introduced by their rivals; finally, the opposition majority carried the following damaging resolution by nineteen votes:--

“That it is the opinion of this House that the continuance of the present ministry in power is an obstacle to the formation of such an administration as is likely to have the confidence of this House and the people.”

An address to the king in the same spirit was passed, and similar motions and addresses were repeated until parliament was prorogued with a discontented speech from the throne, and it was dissolved on the day following, March 25, 1874; thus ending for the time this threatening contest between the Crown and the most important part of the legislature, and transferring the arena of conflict to the hustings. By the royal will, Pitt, though only in his twenty-fifth year, was established as Prime Minister of England, uniting in himself the offices of first lord of the treasury and chancellor of the exchequer; his colleagues being those already known as “the king’s friends,” or youthful aspirants to power willing to tread in their steps. At the elections, the opposition laboured under the disadvantage of leaving the patronage of administration in the hands of their antagonists, and though the contests were obstinate, the Court influence and the king’s name, which was used openly in defiance of the privileges of parliament, secured a majority of seats at once, confirming the apprehensions of the Whig party, and fixing Pitt in security at the pinnacle of power. Horace Walpole has pictured the feelings of the day:--

“The Court struck a blow at the Ministers, but it was the gold of the East India Company, that nest of monsters (which Fox’s Bill was to demolish), that really conjured up the storm, and has diffused it all over England. On the other hand Mr. Pitt has braved the majority of the House of Commons, has dissolved the existent one, and, I doubt, given a wound to that branch of the legislature, which, if the tide does not turn, may be very fatal to the constitution. The nation is intoxicated, and has poured in addresses of thanks to the Crown for exerting the prerogative _against_ the palladium of the people. The first consequence will probably be, that the Court will have a considerable majority upon the new Elections.”

The aversion to the late Coalition Ministry was turned to account by the Court; the elections showed the opposition, so strong before the dissolution, in a woeful minority; the great Whig families, Horace Walpole wrote--

“have lost all credit in their own counties; nay, have been tricked out of seats where the whole property was their own; and, in some of those cases, a _Royal_ finger has too evidently tampered, as well as singularly and revengefully towards Lord North and Lord Hertford.... Such a proscription, however, must have sown so deep resentment as it was not wise to provoke, considering that permanent fortune is a jewel that in no Crown is the most to be depended upon.”

The Westminster election of 1784 was an event of importance in the political history of the last century; it was the only serious check that the Court encountered in the attempt to return a subservient House of Commons; and circumstances combined to render it the most remarkable struggle of the kind that has been witnessed. The metropolis was kept in a state of ebullition for weeks; the poll was opened on April 1st, and continued without intermission until May 17th. During this time, Covent Garden and the Strand were the scenes of daily combats between the rival mobs; the papers were filled with squibs of the most personal nature, according to their respective sides in politics, and hundreds of pictorial satires appeared on every incident, and embodying all the successive stages of the struggle. Rowlandson, who entered with spirit into the contest, chiefly in the Foxite interests, alone produced on an average a fresh caricature every day; the best of these are reproduced in the life of the caricaturist, and a selection of these subjects, from the work in question, are given among the present illustrations of the subject. The representatives of Westminster in the previous parliament were Fox and Sir Brydges Rodney. Sir Cecil Wray, lately a follower of the Whig party, had been nominated for the last parliament by the Whig chief, but on this occasion Wray ungratefully deserted his political leader, and was put forward as the ministerial nominee. The king and Court had resolved to exert every influence to cause Fox’s defeat on personal grounds. Admiral Lord Hood was also a Court candidate, but it was Wray who was more especially held forth as the antagonist of the “Man of the People.” The political apostate was stigmatized as “Judas Iscariot, who betrayed his master.” Other charges against him were certain proposals he is said to have made for the suppression of Chelsea Hospital and a project for a tax upon maid-servants; to these were added the general cries against his supporters of attempting an undue elevation of the prerogative, and also against the prevalent “back-stair” influence.

Against Fox was raised the odium of the coalition with Lord North, and his attack on the East India Company’s charter was represented as but the commencement of a general invasion of chartered rights of corporate bodies. The Prince of Wales interested himself warmly in favour of Fox, to the extreme provocation of the king and queen; it was declared that the prince had canvassed in person, and that the members of his household were actively engaged in promoting the success of the Whig chief. The exertions of the Court were extraordinary; almost hourly intelligence was conveyed to the king, who is said to have been affected in the most evident manner by every change in the state of the poll. Threats and promises were freely made in the royal name, the old illegalities were revived, members of the king’s household claimed votes, and on one occasion two hundred and eighty of the Guards were sent in a body to give their votes as householders--an ill-advised manœuvre, upon which, as Horace Walpole declared, his father, Sir Robert, would not have dared to venture in the most quiet seasons. All dependents on the Court were commanded to vote on the same side as the soldiers. When Fox’s friends, the popular party, protested against this unconstitutional interference, their opponents retaliated by charging the Foxites with bribery, and with resorting to improper influences of extravagant kinds. Beyond the unpopularity of relying upon Court patronage and the imputations of “wearing two faces under a Hood,” and being “a Greenwich pensioner,” Admiral Lord Hood escaped; the most bitter party and personal attacks were made upon Wray. At the beginning of the election, Hood had brought up a large contingent of sailors, or, as the opposition alleged, chiefly hired ruffians dressed in sailors’ clothes; these desperadoes surrounded the hustings, and intimidated Fox’s friends, and even hindered those who attempted to register votes in favour of the Whig chief; they grew uproarious as the poll progressed, and, parading the streets, assaulted Fox’s partisans, made conspicuous by displaying his “true blue” favours; they also attacked the Shakespeare Tavern, where his committee met, when, threatening to wreck the house, they were beaten off by the inmates. After a reign of terror, which was endured for four days without organized resistance, the sailor mob encountered a rival faction--entitled the “honest mob” by the opposition newspapers,--these were the hackney chairmen, a numerous body, chiefly Irishmen, almost unanimous in their support of Fox; these, with hearty will, basted the sailors, breaking heads and fracturing bones in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden. The sailors thence proceeded to St. James’s, where the chairmen chiefly plied for hire, to wreak vengeance on their chairs; but the Irishmen beat them again and the Guards quelled the riot. The day following, both parties were reinforced. The sailors, vowing vengeance, left the hustings to intercept Fox on his way to Westminster to canvass; but he luckily managed to elude them, and escaped into a private house. The sailor mob returned to Covent Garden, where they encountered the “honest mob,” the chairmen being joined by a multitude of butchers, brewers’ men, and others. A series of pitched battles ensued, the sailors were defeated at each renewal of the fighting, and, finally, many of their number being carried off to hospitals severely injured, the popular rival mob was left in possession of the field. Special constables were now introduced at the instance of the justices of the peace, who were in the Court interest, to surround the places where Hood and Wray’s committees met, and these behaved in a manner so hostile to Fox’s party, going about impeding and insulting Liberal voters, and shouting “No Fox,” that their presence provoked a fresh outbreak. On the approach of the “honest mob,” heralded by the sounds of the marrow-bones and cleavers, the insurrectionary signal, the constables made an attack, in which one of their own body was knocked down and killed by fellow-constables by mistake in the heat of the scuffle.

In Rowlandson’s pictorial versions of the different stages of this famous election, the public were first excited against the Coalition Ministry, lately thrown out of office as described. “They Quarter their Arms” represents the contracting parties, Fox and Badger, united to share the Treasury spoils, and battening on the victimized John Bull; it was “money” which made the Coalition Wedding:--

“Come, we’re all rogues together, The people must pay for the play; Then let us make hay in fine weather, And keep the cold winter away.”

The downfall of the Coalition was pictured as “Britannia Aroused; or, the Coalition Ministers Destroyed,” in which Fox and North are figuratively reaping the reward of iniquity.

“Within the Senate, and without, Our credit fails; th’ enlighten’d nation The boasted Coalition scout, And hunt us from th’ administration.

“Fox, let thy soul with _grace_ be fill’d: Expect no other _call_ but mine; With penitence I see thee thrill’d, With new-born light I see thee shine.

“How spruce will North beneath thee sit! With joy officiate as thy clerk! Attune the hymn, renounce his wit, And carol like the morning lark!”

The astute young premier, whose youth at this time was alleged as his chief crime, began to bid for “loyal addresses,” and other servile expressions, to condone the rash experiments recently attempted upon the constitution. With this view he cultivated the citizens, and, being presented with the “Freedom of the City,” he was entertained by the Grocers’ Company as the son of that famous Earl of Chatham, the greatest friend of the rights of the people; it was expected he would be equally steadfast in defending popular freedom:--

“But Chatham, thank heaven! has left us a son; When _he_ takes the helm, we are sure not undone; The glory his father revived of the land, And Britannia has taken Pitt by the hand.”

In “Master Billy’s Procession to Grocers’ Hall” the adulation of the multitude is offered to the “charming youth,” who is declared to be “very like his father;” the gold box is carried before, and the voluntary slaves who are harnessed to his chariot are shouting for “Pitt and Prerogative.”

Before the dissolution (March 25th), Pitt’s ministerial manœuvres were already patent to all. The king had determined, with the obstinacy of purpose which characterized the royal mind, that he would endure any sacrifice rather than sanction the return of the members of the late Coalition Ministry to power; in the face of this eventuality, he even threatened, it is stated, to retire to Hanover, but, in the meanwhile, no effort was spared to obviate this embarrassing emergency. Places and pensions were freely employed as baits to detach followers of Fox and North. A pictorial version of the situation, as given by Rowlandson, represents the extensive “ratting” system and its _modus operandi_, under the title of “The Apostate Jack Robinson, the Political Rat-catcher. N.B. _Rats taken alive!_”

“Thus when Renegado sees a Rat In the traps in the morning taken, With pleasure he goes Master Pitt to pat, And swears he will have his bacon.”

Jack Robinson, as “Rat-catcher to Great Britain,” is equipped for his delicate task with a supply of baits, lures, and traps; round his waist is the “Cestus of Corruption,” in his pocket is a small aide-de-camp, who is made to exclaim, “We’ll ferret them out!” On his back is a double trap, baited with coronets and places; he is cautiously proceeding on all fours, along the Treasury floor, where “vermin” are “preserved;” the rats to be captured are toying with the gold laid down to attract them. To the nose of one veteran, whose face resembles the spectacled visage of Edmund Burke, is held a large bait of “pension,” which is regarded wistfully by other rats assembled. Under the heading of “Rats of Note,” a placard on the wall announces the list of political apostates who have been captured. No concealment was attempted, for we find in the pages of the _Morning Post and Daily Advertiser_, for February 10, 1784, an advertisement, under the simple heading of “Jack Robinson,” with a woodcut representing a string of rats, such as might preface a common rat-catcher’s announcement, giving the names of twenty-two parliamentary rats already decoyed from their party allegiance to go over to the good pickings the king was able to hold out. This curious notification is repeated on the Treasury wall, shown in Rowlandson’s pictorial view of the corruption abroad, as a preparation for the coming elections.

The _dramatis personæ_ of the great performance at the Covent Garden hustings are exhibited as “The Rival Candidates:” “Themistocles,” Lord Hood; “Demosthenes,” Fox; “Judas Iscariot,” Sir Cecil Wray.

One of the most enthusiastic partisans of Fox, and second only to his fair friends, the ladies of the Whig aristocracy, in popular influence, was “Honest Sam House,” the publican, remarkable for his oddity and for his political zeal, who during the election not only canvassed with admirable tact, but throughout the contest kept open house at his own expense, and was honoured with the presence of many of the Whig aristocracy.

“See the brave Sammy House, he’s as still as a mouse, And does canvass with prudence so clever: See what shoals with him flock, to poll for brave Fox, Give thanks to Sam House, boys, for ever, for ever, Give thanks to Sam House, boys, for ever!

“Brave bald-headed Sam, all must own is the man, Who does canvass for brave Fox so clever; His aversion, I say, is to _small beer and Wray_! May his bald head be honour’d for ever, for ever! May his bald head be honour’d for ever!”

The fact that the public was being treated to the excitement of perhaps the most momentous and embittered, if not the hardest-fought election on record, is shown in Rowlandson’s version of the Covent Garden Hustings, round which is assembled a crowd of persons who are being addressed from the platform, whereon stands one of the ministerial candidates, Admiral Lord Hood, who is made to announce his intention of carrying “two faces under a Hood!” This caricature is a pointed comment upon the Court manœuvres, and exposes those royal tactics which had already demoralized the allies of the defunct Coalition Ministry. Major John Cartwright--the consistent and energetic advocate of reform, of which he was one of the most valorous pioneers--is made the mouth-piece of the artist’s satirical strictures, while endorsing those views held by “The Drum-Major of Sedition” (March 29, 1784), as the liberty-loving major, who remained conspicuous in the foremost ranks of reformers all his days, was entitled by his adversaries. A strongly ironical tendency characterizes the speech, which may be regarded as a tolerably pungent electioneering squib:--

“All gentlemen and other electors for Westminster who are ready and willing to surrender their rights and those of their fellow-citizens to secret influence and the Lords of the Bedchamber, let them repair to the prerogative standard, lately erected at the Cannon Coffee House, where they shall be kindly received--until their services are no longer wanted. This, gentlemen, is the last time of asking, as we are determined to abolish the power of the House of Commons, and in future be governed by Prerogative, as they are in France and Turkey. Gentlemen, the ambition of the enemy is now evident. Has he not, within these few days past, stole the Great Seal of England” (this had actually occurred, the great seal being mysteriously carried off on the eve of the dissolution, which had to be postponed until another seal could be made to replace the missing instrument) “while the Chancellor[62] was taking a bottle with a female favourite, as all great men do? I am informed, gentlemen, that the enemy now assumes Regal Authority, and, by virtue of the Great Seal (which he stole), is creating of Peers and granting of pensions. A most shameful abuse, gentlemen, of that instrument. If you assist us to pull down the House of Commons, every person who hears me has a chance of becoming a great man, if he is happy enough to hit the fancy of Lord Bute and of Mr. Jenkinson.[63] Huzza! God save the King!”

Pitt’s valour, then deemed intemperate, in taking up the reins of office by “the royal will,” and thereby jockeying the discomfited ex-Coalition Ministry, is commented upon by Rowlandson in the course of his numerous caricatures on the great Westminster election. “The Hanoverian Horse and the British Lion; a scene in a new play, lately acted at Westminster with distinguished applause. Act ii., scene last” (March 31, 1784), is a version intended to be prophetic of the end, a view then warranted by circumstances, but one falsified by the results of the general election, which consolidated the power in Pitt’s hands, and completely left the opposition “out in the cold!” a surprise by no means anticipated at the date of the cartoon in question. The Parliament-house is shown as the arena of this constitutional tournament, and the faithful Commons are victimized by the aggressive tendencies of Pitt’s steed; the White Horse of Hanover is trampling upon “Magna Charta,” the “Bill of Rights,” and mangling the “Constitution.” Pitt, a remarkably light and boyish jockey, is exciting the brute, who is neighing, “Pre-ro-ro-ro-ro-rogative” with vicious energy. The youthful premier is enjoying the capers of his mount: “Bravo! go it again; I love to ride a mettle steed. Send the vagabonds packing.” The heels of the White Horse are effectually scaring the members and making a clearance. The British Lion has descended from his familiar post as a supporter of the royal ’scutcheon over the Speaker’s chair; in the vacant space lately occupied by the British Lion is the announcement, “We shall resume our situation here at pleasure.--Leo Rex.” The sturdy figure of the Whig Chief is safely mounted upon the British Lion, who is keeping a watchful eye upon his Hanoverian rival, while protesting, “If this horse is not tamed, he will soon be absolute king of our forest.” Fox has entered on the scene of conflict, armed for the encounter with bit, bridle, and a stout riding-whip, to tame and control the uproarious White Horse; he is volunteering advice to his upstart rival, “Prithee, Billy, dismount before ye get a fall--and let some abler jockey take your seat!” Fox was reckoning without his “Martyrs,” which the results of the election were destined to create on an unprecedented scale, as this review will show. The reverse was shortly to be realized, as set down pictorially by Rowlandson. The poll was opened April 1, and three days later appeared a version of Fox as “The Incurable,” in a strait-waistcoat, and with straw in his hair, singing:--

“My lodging is on the cold ground, and very hard is my case, But that which grieves me most of all is the losing of my place.”

The royal physician, Dr. Munro, is examining the patient through his eye-glass, and attesting, “As I have not the least hope of his recovery, let him be removed amongst the Incurables.”

“Dazzled with hope, he could not see the cheat Of aiming with impatience to be great. With wild ambition in his heart, we find, Farewell content and quiet of his mind; For glittering clouds he left the solid shore, And wonted happiness returns no more.”

The most active and successful of Fox’s canvassers was undoubtedly the Duchess of Devonshire, who, by the influence of her personal charms and her winning affability, succeeded in procuring for the Whig chief votes which would never have otherwise been polled in his favour. It was of the beautiful and winsome Georgiana Spencer, that Hannay said the Spencers had laid the world under further obligations by sending forth a second “Fairy Queen,” and it was the Westminster Election of 1784 which first brought into celebrity this gay and graceful leader of fashion, who, by universal suffrage, was the Queen of the Foxites. In the earlier stages Fox was behind both his opponents, and although Cecil Wray had only a small majority, Fox was at his last gasp. The story is told in Wraxall’s “Posthumous Memoirs” by an eye-witness of the incidents:--

“The party were driven to new resources, and the Duchess of Devonshire restored the fates of the Whig champion. The progress of the canvass thenceforward is amusing. The entire of the voters for Westminster having been exhausted, the only hope was in exciting the suburbs. The Duchess instantly ordered out her equipage, and with her sister, the Countess of Duncannon, drove, polling list in hand, to the houses of the voters. Entreaties, ridicule, civilities, influence of all kinds were lavished on these rough legislators; and the novelty of being solicited by two women of rank and remarkable fashion, took the popular taste universally. The immediate result was, that they gallantly came to the poll, and Fox, who had been a hundred behind Sir Cecil, speedily left him a hundred behind in return. An imperfect attempt was made on the hostile side to oppose this new species of warfare by similar captivation, and Lady Salisbury was moved to awake the dying fortunes of the Government candidate. But the effort failed; it was imitation, it was too late; and the Duchess was six-and-twenty, and Lady Salisbury thirty-four! These are reasons enough, and more than enough for the rejection of any man from the hustings.”

“A certain lady I won’t name Must take an active part, sir, To show that DEVON’S beauteous dame Should not engage each heart, sir.

“She canvass’d all, both great and small, And thundered at each door, sir; She rummaged every shop and stall-- The Duchess had been before her.”

The Tories were furious at the success of the duchess, who, attended by several beauties of the Whig aristocracy, and, among others, by the fascinating Lady Carlisle, carried all before her; another rival canvasser, in addition to the “Diana of Hatfield,” was set up in the person of the Hon. Mrs. Hobart, Lady Buckinghamshire, of “Pic-nic” fame, who, though “fat and fair,” was under “forty,” and remarkably volatile, but, being of portly figure, this dashing lady, a connection of Pitt’s, was by the opposition nicknamed “Madame Blubber,” and the caricaturists, who represent her as canvassing for Hood and Wray, with a weighty purse by way of inducement, make the electors on whom she has tried her persuasive powers unanimous in asserting “I’m engaged to the Duchess.” Mrs. Hobart was, however, looked upon as a rival of the gracious Georgiana, and many satirical shafts, both by verse and picture, were launched at her full-blown charms. Balloons, as novelties at that time, were exciting a share of attention, and Madame Blubber as the “Ærostatic Dilly,” was, as a balloon “launched at Richmond Park,” shown in mid-air, convoying to the hustings outlying and dependent voters.

“Tho’ in every street All the voters you meet The Duchess knows best how to court them, Yet for outlying votes In my petticoats, I’ve found out a way to transport them!

“Eight trips in this way, For Hood and for Wray, I’ll make poll sixteen in one day. Dear Wray, don’t despair, My supplies by the air Shall recover our losses on Monday!”

Walpole wrote under date, April 13th:--

“Mr. Fox has all the popularity in Westminster; and, indeed, is so amiable and winning that, could he have stood in person all over England, I question whether he would not have carried the parliament. The beldams hate him; but most of the pretty women in England are indefatigable in making interest for him; the Duchess of Devonshire in particular. I am ashamed to say how coarsely she has been received by some worse than tars. But nothing has shocked me so much as what I heard this morning. At Dover, they roasted a poor _fox_ alive by the most diabolical allegory--a savage meanness that an Iroquois could not have committed!” “During her canvass the Duchess made no scruple of visiting the humblest of the electors, dazzling and enchanting them by the fascination of her manner, the power of her beauty and the influence of her high rank, and sometimes carrying off to the hustings the meanest mechanic in her own carriage.”

“The Duchess of Devonshire,” writes Lord Cornwallis, on the 19th of April, “is indefatigable in her canvass for Fox. She was in the most blackguard houses in Long Acre by eight o’clock this morning.”

The fact of the duchess having purchased the vote of an impracticable butcher by a kiss is said to be unquestionable. It was on one of these occasions that the well-known compliment is said to have been made her by an Irish mechanic, “_I could light my pipe at your eyes_.”

Of great beauty and unconquerable spirit, she tried all her powers of persuasion on the shopkeepers of Westminster, as Earl Stanhope declares in his “Life of Pitt”:--

“Other ladies, who could not rival her beauty, might at least follow her example. Scarce a street or alley which they did not canvass on behalf of him whom they persisted in calling the ‘Man of the People,’ at the very moment when the popular voice was declaring against him.”

Pitt and his royal patron were, however, exerting every method to secure the downfall of the redoubtable “Carlo Khan.” Up to the third day of the polling, “Fox was in a minority, notwithstanding the immense exertions that were made on his behalf. The Ministerial Party,” according to the statement of their own historians, “were sanguine in the hope of wresting from him the greatest and most enlightened, as it was then considered, of all the represented boroughs of England.” Pitt’s proud spirit was roused at the obstinacy of the contest, and, unlike his more magnanimous if not greater rival, he lost patience with his opponents; in a strain of acrimonious pleasantry he wrote to Wilberforce, “Westminster goes on well in spite of the Duchess of Devonshire and the other _Women of the People_, but when the poll will close is uncertain;” this was on the seventh day of the poll, and Pitt then little dreamt of its running for forty days uninterruptedly. By the 23rd of April, the premier was evidently losing temper, and the strain of electioneering was becoming tenser, as appears from a letter written to his cousin, James Grenville, afterwards Lord Glastonbury:--

“MY DEAR SIR,

“Admiral Hood tells me he left Lord Nugent at Bath, disposed to come to town if a vote at Westminster should be material. I think from the state of the poll it may be very much so. There is no doubt, I believe, of final success on a scrutiny, if we are driven to it; but it is a great object to us to carry the return for both in the first instance, and on every account as great an object to Fox to prevent it. It is uncertain how long the poll will continue, but pretty clear it cannot be over till after Monday. If you will have the goodness to state these circumstances to Lord Nugent, and encourage his good designs, we shall be very much obliged to you; and still more, should neither health nor particular engagements detain you, if, besides prevailing upon him, you could give your own personal assistance. At all events I hope you will forgive my troubling you, and allow for the importunity of a hardened electioneerer.... Mainwaring and Wilkes are considerably ahead in Middlesex, and Lord Grimston has come in, instead of Halsey, for Herts.”

Pitt further alludes to W. W. Grenville, his cousin, “the kissing young gentleman” who visited Cowper in the course of his canvass, “I have not yet heard the event of Bucks, but William was safe, and, by the first day’s poll, Aubrey’s prospect seems very good.” John Aubrey was returned second, and William Grenville was at the head of the poll.

Fox’s prospects were gradually improved as concerned his own seat at Westminster; but the slaughter amongst his followers was altogether unexampled, the muster-roll of “Fox’s Martyrs” grew ominously longer as each election was determined. On the twenty-third day of the polling at Covent Garden the Whig chief passed Sir Cecil Wray, and continued to advance until the fortieth, when, by law, the contest closed. On the 17th of May, the poll stood--Lord Hood, 6,694; Fox, 6,237; Sir Cecil Wray, 5,998.

“There was,” writes Earl Stanhope, “strong reason, however, to suspect many fraudulent practices in the previous days, since it seemed clear that the total number of votes recorded was considerably beyond the number of persons entitled to the franchise. For this reason Sir Cecil Wray at once demanded a scrutiny, and the High Bailiff--illegally, as Fox contended--granted the request. But further still, the High Bailiff, Mr. Corbett, who was no friend to Fox, refused to make any legal return until this scrutiny should be decided. Thus Westminster was left for the present destitute of Representatives, and Fox would have been without a seat in the new Parliament but for the friendship of Sir Thomas Dundas, through which he had been already returned the member for the close boroughs of Kirkwall.”

Gallant Whig poetasters were rapturous in their praises of the fair canvassers who were making such havoc in the Tory ranks.

“THE DUCHESS ACQUITTED; OR, THE TRUE CAUSE OF THE MAJORITY ON THE WESTMINSTER ELECTION.

“Some strive to wound the virtuous name Of Devonshire’s, Duncannon’s fame, That beauteous peerless pair; And all the toiling earnest throng, Let’s celebrate in tuneful song, The brunette and the fair. When charms conspire, and join their aid, What mortal man is not afraid, Who can unmov’d remain? What heart is safe, whose vote secure, When urg’d by the resistless pow’r Of Venus and her train? Let Slander, with her haggard eye, No more blaspheme with hideous cry, Th’ indefatigable dame. ’Twas Venus in disguise, ’tis said, These efforts thro’ the town display’d, And her’s alone the blame. Than beauty’s force and mighty pow’r, Than charms exerted ev’ry hour, What greater cause of fear? Firm resolution melts away, At beauty’s so superior sway, And Falsehood seems as fair. The heart that still retain’d Love’s fire, Unchill’d by age, warm with desire, Could not resist their sway; ’Twas this rais’d Fox’s numbers higher, This did the tardy votes inspire-- Ah! poor Sir Cecil Wray!”

The Tories in their annoyance resorted to libels of the most ungallant and ungenerous order; they accused the duchess of wholesale bribery, and reported that she had in one instance bought the vote of a butcher with a kiss, a rumour which was immediately seized by the whimsical wits for the basis of endless exaggerations. “The Devonshire, or Most Approved Method of Securing Votes” embodies the butcher episode. The practice of claiming some slight service, rewarded at election times with extravagant liberality, as a subterfuge for bribery, is shown in the duchess engaging an elector to put a stitch in her shoe, and illustrated as “The Wit’s Last Stake; or, the Cobbling Voter and Abject Canvassers.”

Besides “The Devonshire, or Most Approved Method of Securing Votes,” two caricatures appeared on the 12th of April from Rowlandson’s prolific graver: one, exhibiting the struggle between the fair canvassers arrayed in rivalry at Covent Garden hustings, under the symbol of “The Poll:” a balancing plank, whereon the beauteous Georgiana “Devon’s Queen,” is elevated high in the air, while her stouter rival, the Hon. Mrs. Hobart (Lady Buckinghamshire), is overweighing her extremely. Above the heads of the group, which includes the rival candidates, Fox, Hood, and Wray, flutters a placard, “The Rival Candidates, a Farce.” Against Wray was revived, in allusion to the Court patronage under which he was fighting, the well-worn cry of “Slavery and wooden shoes,” and much stress was laid on the extreme measure of polling the Guards as householders; in reference to the two hundred and eighty votes given by soldiers at one time in a body--an astounding manœuvre, which shocked constitutional minds--appeared the placard:--

“All Horse Guards, Grenadier Guards, Foot Guards, and Black-Guards, that have not polled for the destruction of Chelsea Hospital and the Tax on Maidservants are desired to meet at the _Gutter Hole_, opposite the Horse Guards, where they will have a full bumper of _knock-me-down_ and plenty of _soap-suds_, before they go to the poll for Sir Cecil Wray or eat. N.B.--Those who have no shoes or stockings may come without, _there being a quantity of wooden shoes provided for them_.”

A further presentment of the famous canvassing duchess, whose prominence at the great Westminster election of 1784 gave her such universal and lasting celebrity, is offered by Rowlandson in a fanciful domestic interior at Devonshire House, where the favoured candidate, Fox, and his staunch and invaluable ally, “brave Sammy House,” are introduced as “Lords of the Bedchamber” (April 14, 1784). In the caricaturist’s highly imaginary version, the duchess is entertaining the pair with a cup of tea in her boudoir; above her hangs the Reynolds portrait of her liege-lord. Sam House, in his publican’s jacket, otherwise attired in that neat costume which became historical, is stirring the cup “that cheers but not inebriates” with an air of supreme contentment, while Fox is patting, in friendly familiarity, the no less remarkable completely bald head of his indefatigable supporter by way of encouragement.

The third plate, “The Westminster Watchman,” is inscribed--

“To the Independent Electors of Westminster, this Print of their staunch old watchman, the guardian of their rights and privileges, is dedicated by a grateful Elector. N.B.--Beware of Counterfeits, as the Greenwich and Chelsea Watchmen are upon the look-out!”

Fox is standing firm, with his cap of “Liberty;” and the lamp of “Truth” is shedding its light around, the Whig chief is unmoved by the storm of “ministerial thunderbolts;” a trusty dog, “Vigilance,” is by his side; the “Counterfeits” are shuffling off, Hood for Greenwich, and Wray for Chelsea.

The ballads, epigrams, and poetical _jeux d’esprit_ to which the circumstances of this famous contest gave birth are sufficiently numerous to fill a volume. The rhymsters on both sides were evidently resolved to do their best: many of the lyrics and “squibs” are worthy of preservation; they are as a rule far above the average compositions evoked upon similar occasions. The tuneful songster, Captain Morris, wrote many of the most graceful and witty “impromptus” and verses. The bards of “Opposition” were severe upon the Court influence exerted against Fox’s cause, and justly exposed some of the manœuvres resorted to by Pitt’s adherents.

“To the will of the Court we are told to consent, And never to do as we please, Sir; If we vote against FOX we’re forgiven our rent, Or else we must forfeit our lease, Sir. Thus of freedom and rights poor electors they chouse, Such slaves and such fools we are grown, Sir, We must vote a Rogue into the Parliament House, Or else be turned out of our own, Sir.”

It was the old story of intimidation, undue influence, and coercion, as practised at the Westminster elections for the best part of a century. The scene of the hustings is thus sketched:--

“A CONCISE DESCRIPTION OF COVENT GARDEN AT THE PRESENT WESTMINSTER ELECTION.

“A paradise for fools and knaves; A hell for constables and slaves; A booth for mountebanks and beavers; A shop for marrow-bones and cleavers; A stage for bulls and Irish chairmen; A pit for Foxes, for to rear ’em: In short, such are most glorious places(?) For Duchesses to show their faces!”

Allusions to the machinations of “the King’s Friends” were abundant:--

“STANZAS IN SEASON.

“It would not do! Black Thurlow’s frown And Billy’s prudence gain’d the prize; ’Tis Beauty must redeem the crown, And Fox must reign thro’ Devon’s eyes. She saw, she conquer’d; Wray shrunk back; Court mandates we no more obey; Majorities no more they pack, And Fox and Freedom win the day! Who can deny when beauty sues? And where’s the tongue can blame her Grace; Not timid slavery can refuse: Her life’s as spotless as her face.”

The countenance shown to Fox by the youthful rank, fashion, and wealth of the day excited the bitterness of Tory rhymsters. The active partisanship of the Prince of Wales was a source of caustic recrimination and envy:--

“Since Britain’s great Prince condescends to evince His concern in your future election, How happy each Cobbler, Butcher, Smith, and Pot-wobbler, Who shall merit the Royal protection!

“For goodness consider the rank of the bidder, Who offers so much for your plumpers: What’s the Nation or Pitt, to the Prince and Tom Tit! Dash such stuff--and to Fox fill your bumpers.”

Arrayed on the Whig chief’s side was all the beauty and grace of fair and fascinating wives and daughters of the Whig aristocracy, a bevy of lovely political Circes, whose enchantments were all potent:--

“ON SEEING LADY BEAUCHAMP, LADY CARLISLE, AND LADY DERBY IN THEIR CARRIAGES, ON MR. FOX’S SIDE OF THE HUSTINGS.

“The gentle Beauchamp, and the fair Carlisle, Around their favour’d Fox expectant wait; And Derby’s lip suspends the ready smile, To ask ‘the Poll?’ and ‘what is Charles’s fate?’

“But say, ye _belles_, whose beauty all admit, Do you in politics dispute the prize; Or do ye near the Hustings proudly sit, To take the _suffrage_ of admiring eyes?“

The Duchess of Devonshire was idolized by enthusiastic Whigs, who hailed in her the salvation of the cause:--

“Let Pitt and Wray dislike the fair, Decry our Devon’s matchless merit; A braver, kinder soul we wear, And love her _beauty_, love her _spirit_. Let distant times and ages know, When Temple would have made us slaves, ’Tis thus we ward the fatal blow, ’Tis Fox that beats--’tis Devon saves!”

“ON SEEING THE DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE, LADY DUNCANNON, ETC., CANVASSING FOR MR. FOX.

“Sure Heav’n approves of Fox’s cause (Tho’ slaves at Court abhor him); To vote for Fox, then, who can pause, Since _angels_ canvass for him.”

“ON A CERTAIN DUCHESS.

“Her mien like Cytherea’s dove, Her lips like Hybla’s honey; Who would not give a vote for love, Unless he wanted money?”

Walpole’s lovely nieces, the three Ladies Waldegrave, added the influence of their charms to those of the winsome Georgiana, and were gallantly apostrophized with “Devon’s Queen:”--

“Fair DEVON all good English hearts must approve, And the WALDGRAVES (God bless their sweet faces), The Duchess she looks like the sweet Queen of love And they like the three Sister Graces.”

The influence of this novel captivation upon the hearts of those so happy as to be admitted to the electoral franchise acted like magic:--

“There’s Devonshire’s Duchess, all beauty and grace, Each morning so early she shows her sweet face; Tho’ ever so envious, all must her extol, Then rouse up your spirits, and come to the poll.”

“EPIGRAM ON THE DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE.

“Array’d in matchless beauty, Devon’s fair In Fox’s favour takes a zealous part, But oh! where’er the pilferer comes--beware! She supplicates a vote, and steals a heart.”

The compliments poured forth at the altar of this fair divinity were not alone addressed to the beauty of her face, the grace of her person, the excellence of her heart, and her captivating manners,--her intellectual charms also secured due recognition:--

“IMPROMPTU ON HER GRACE OF DEVONSHIRE.

“Whilst Devon’s Duchess for Fox takes a part, Whilst she asks for your _vote_, she engages your heart; Can beauty alone such influence sway? Can the fairest of fair make all mortals obey?-- Oh no; for her empire is over the mind, And _beauty_ with _reason_ in her is combin’d.”

Although every concession was made to the empire of Beauty, many of the verses were slyly sarcastic, while some of the caricatures were strongly coloured by the uncompromising coarseness of the age:--

“ODE TO THE DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE.

“Hail, Duchess! first of womankind, Far, far you leave your sex behind, With you none can compare; For who but you, from street to street, Would run about a vote to get, Thrice, thrice bewitching fair! Each day you visit every shop, Into each house your head you pop, Nor do you act the prude; For ev’ry man salutes your Grace, Some kiss your hand, and some your face, And some are rather rude.”

“THE PARADOX OF THE TIMES.

“See modest Duchesses, no longer nice In Virtue’s honour, haunt the sinks of Vice; In Freedom’s cause, the guilty bribe convey, And perjur’d wretches piously betray: Seduced by Devon, and the Paphian crew, What cannot Venus and the Graces do?-- Devon, not Fox, obtains the glorious prize, Not public merit, but resistless eyes.”

As an antidote to the bitterness there was, however, a surfeit of “sweets:”--

“A NEW SONG, TO THE TUNE OF ‘LET THE TOAST PASS.’

“To Fox and to Freedom we give our support, Every Englishman feels it his duty, When their cause is attack’d by the pow’r of the Court, And defended by Virtue and Beauty.”

The turn of affairs which placed Fox in a majority over Sir Cecil Wray, who for some time was in advance of the Whig chief, is summed up by Rowlandson, amongst other caricaturists, as “The Case is altered” (April 29, 1784). The election had nearly another three weeks to run, but already the satirists were forecasting the result. Fox, be it remembered, had other resources in reserve, and, at the close of the poll, when Wray demanded a scrutiny, and the high bailiff illegally declined to make his return, he was seated for Kirkwall. In the caricaturist’s version, the election has already settled Wray’s chances, and Fox is magnanimously driving off his defeated opponent, and late dependent, to Lincoln: the ministerial candidate is travelling, “without drums or trumpets,” smuggled away from the exciting platform of the hustings, in the “Lincolnshire caravan for paupers;” he is buried in self-contemplation,--“I always was a poor dog, but now I am worse than ever.” The generous Fox, charioteering his renegade _protégé_, is volunteering, “I will drive you to Lincoln, where you may superintend the _small beer_ and _brickdust_.” Lord Hood’s majority was safe at the head of the poll,--for no reason which history has made manifest; he is pictured as suddenly surprising the degrading pauper-conveyance, and, in compassion for his late colleague, is exclaiming, much moved at these reverses, “Alas, poor Wray!”

The doings of the Duchess of Devonshire, her sister, Lady Duncannon, and their fair following of female canvassers are pictorially treated by the caricaturist in his version of “The Procession to the Hustings after a Successful Canvass,” in which a select group of outlying voters, secured after much exertion, are seen conducted in triumph, and with “rough music,” to the polling-place. The circumstance that, chiefly owing to the opportune assistance of the Duchess, Fox was placed second on the poll was commemorated in “Every Man has his Hobby-horse.” Fox may truly be said to have been carried into the House of Commons by his fair coadjutor.

The fact that Wray--who, as a double “Renegado,” shortly rejoined the Whigs--appears to have gained but scant sympathy, was defeated and done for, is turned to satirical account in a travestied view of Fox, North, and the Duchess--the latter wearing a foxtail in her hat--“For the Benefit of the Champion.--A Catch, to be performed at the New Theatre, Covent Garden. For admission apply to the Duchess. N.B.--_Gratis_ to those who wear large tails;” the lady is pointing to a headstone put up in memory of “Poor Cecil Wray, Dead and turned to Clay.”

The fate of Wray, with Fox reinstated in his seat for Westminster, and the concluding election scenes at Covent Garden are figured in “The Westminster Deserter Drumm’d out of the Regiment.” Sam House, with his perfectly bald head, and dressed in the clean and natty nankeen jacket and trousers, his invariable wear summer and winter, is drumming Wray off the stage: “May all Deserters feel Public Resentment”--is the sentiment of both the indignant Chelsea veterans and buxom maid-servants to whom Wray’s projects had given mortal offence. “The Man of the People” is planting the standard of Liberty and Britannia, and acknowledging his gratitude to his supporters with simple fervour--“Friends and fellow-citizens, I cannot find words to express my feelings to you on the victory.”

Finally, as an apotheosis of the fair champion who had contributed most of all to the success and glory of the triumph over the Court, Rowlandson etched the allegorical picture of “Liberty and Fame introducing Female Patriotism to Britannia.”

At the close of the poll, Fox was 235 votes ahead of Wray, but, as related, the high bailiff, Corbett, acting partially, refused to return him on the plea that a scrutiny had been demanded; Fox was also a candidate for Kirkwall, so that, in case of defeat at Westminster he might still have a seat.

At the end of the election there was an immense crowd collected for the chairing of Fox. A classic car was prepared, an improvement on the perilous glory of being hoisted on the shoulders of excited chairmen, or, worse still, lifted on those of volunteers--intoxicated alike with enthusiasm and drinking toasts. The Whig chief mounted his triumphal chariot; a multitudinous procession following, closed by the state-carriages of the Duchesses of Portland and Devonshire, drawn by six horses each. Fox descended from the car at Devonshire House, where was erected a temporary scaffolding, on which was raised a bevy of notabilities, including the Prince of Wales, with the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire, to whose exertions Fox owed a debt of gratitude. A commemorative dinner was given at Willis’s Rooms, where Fox made a glowing speech on the subject of the election. The Prince of Wales, after attending the king at a review at Ascot, rode up St. James’s Street in his uniform, and was received with acclamations, in acknowledgment of his partisanship for the Whig chief, whose favours he wore,--and ended his day of triumph by dining at Devonshire House, where he appeared wearing Fox’s colours (the Washington uniform), and with a laurel branch in token of victory.

The party rejoicings and festivities at the conclusion of this election are felicitously related by Wraxall, who enjoyed the advantages of himself participating in the scenes he pictures. “Still the Whigs were not to be disappointed of their ovation. The exultation of those gay times forms a strange contrast to the grim monotony of our own. Fox, after being chaired in great pomp through the streets, was finally carried into the court-yard of Carlton House. The Prince’s plume was on his banners in acknowledgment of princely partisanship. A banner, inscribed ‘Sacred to Female Patriotism,’ recorded the services of the Duchess. The carriages of the Dukes of Devonshire and Portland, each drawn by six horses, moved in procession, and Fox’s own carriage was a pile of rejoicing Whiggism. On its boxes and traces, and where they could, sat Colonel North, afterwards Lord Guilford; Adam, who but a few years before wounded the patriot in a duel; and a whole cluster of political friends, followers, and expectants. The prince came to the balustrade before the house[64] to cheer him, with a crowd of fashionable people. Fox finished the triumph by an harangue to the mob, and they in return finished by a riot, an illumination, and breaking Lord Temple’s windows.

“But the festivities were scarcely begun. The prince threw open his showy apartments to the nobility, and gave them a brilliant _fête_ in the gardens, which happened to be at its height just when the king was passing through St. James’s Park in state to open the new parliament. The rival interests were within a brick wall of each other, and their spirit could not have been more strangely contrasted than in their occupations. But nights and days to those graceful pursuers of pleasure and politics alike knew no intermission. On that very evening the celebrated beautiful and witty Mrs. Crewe gave a brilliant rout, in which ‘blue and buff’ were the universal costume of both sexes; the buff and blue were the uniform of Washington and his troops, and imprudently adopted by Fox to declare his hostility to the Government. The prince himself appeared in the party colours. At supper, he toasted the fair giver of the feast in the words ‘True Blue and Mrs. Crewe.’ The lady, not unskilfully, and with measureless applause, returned it by another, ‘True Blue and all of you.’”

With the enforced termination of the polling at the fortieth day, arrived the demand of Wray for a scrutiny, and the high bailiff’s unjustifiable attitude, for which he subsequently suffered severely, of declining to make a return, compelled Fox to look elsewhere for a seat, or find no place in the coming parliament, where, as Walpole said, could Fox have stood for every seat in the kingdom he would have represented the entire return in his own person, such was his influence and popularity. “The Departure,” (May 18, 1784), the day succeeding the close of the poll, shows Fox leaving behind him the palatial abode of his warm supporter, the Prince of Wales, and taking leave of his delectable champions, the Duchess of Devonshire and her sister, the fair Lady Duncannon, _en route_ for “Coventry” or “Out-in-the-cold-shire.” Fox is observing on his retreat:--

“If that a scrutiny at last takes place, I can’t tell how ’twill be, and please your Grace!”

Fox’s early ally, Burke, equipped as an outrider, is prepared to drive his friend away from the scene of his triumphs; under Edmund’s arm is a “plan of economy,” suggestive of necessary retrenchments in the Whig camp.

Among the tactics of the Ministerialists may be reckoned the ominous “scrutiny,” which was threatened directly Fox’s votes began to outnumber those in favour of his rival, Wray. On Fox’s success this intention was carried out, the returning officer acting partially in order to connive at the manœuvre; a scrutiny being notoriously a tedious, lengthy, and costly affair, and hence more vexations to Fox than to the combined forces of his opponents. This circumstance is illustrated by the caricaturist, nearly a twelvemonth later; when the excitement of the protracted contest had cooled down, Fox secured another victory over his adversaries, which is commemorated in Rowlandson’s version of the affair (March 7, 1785), entitled:--

“Defeat of the high and mighty Balissimo Corbettino and his famed Cecilian forces, on the plains of St. Martin, on Thursday, the 3rd day of February, 1785, by the Champion of the People and his chosen band, after a smart skirmish, which lasted a considerable time, in which many men were lost on both sides. But their great ally at length losing ground, desertions took place, and notwithstanding their vast superiority in numbers and weight of metal at the first onset, this increased apace, altho’ often rallied by the ablest man in command, till at length the forces gave way in all quarters, and they were totally overthrown. This print is dedicated to the Electors of the City and Liberty of Westminster, who have so nobly stood forth and supported their champion upon this trying occasion, by AN INDEPENDENT ELECTOR.”

Rowlandson has pictured the rival combatants at the head of their learned forces. Fox’s lawyers are triumphant, and armed with such legal weapons as “Eloquence,” “Truth,” “Perseverance,” and “Law;” the Whig chief, in person, is dealing vengeance upon the disconcerted figures of his antagonists, Wray and Corbett. Fox had successfully prosecuted his action and recovered heavy damages against the bailiff, who, as a courtier, had made himself the tool of the Ministerialists. Fox is defended by his buckler, “Majority 38;” he is wielding the keen sword of “Justice;” a laurel crown is placed on the chieftain’s brow by a celestial messenger, who is charged with the decision of the Law Court--“It is ordered that Thomas Corbett, Esq., do immediately return.” Fox is declaring:--

“The wrath of my indignation is kindled, and I will pursue them with a mighty hand and outstretched arm until justice is done to those who have so nobly supported me.”

Sir Cecil Wray’s defence of “Ingratitude” is a sorry shield for the protection of himself or of his fallen ally; his sword is broken; in despair he cries, “My knees wax feeble, and I sink beneath the weight of my own apostasy.” The high bailiff is cast down; he confesses, “My conscience is now at peace.” Another supporter of the returning officer is exclaiming, “Help, help! our chief is fallen. O conscience, support me!” Corbett’s lawyers have turned their abashed backs on their client and his cause: “Nor law, nor conscience, nor the aid of potent Ministers, can e’er support the contest ’gainst such a chief!” “Our support is gone, and we are fallen into a Pitt; yea, even into a deep Pitt!”--the premier having been unable to protect the guilty against the consequences of their act.