Читать книгу A History of Parliamentary Elections and Electioneering in the Old Days - Joseph Grego - Страница 35

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“Your hours are choicely employ’d,

Your Petitions all lie on the Table.

With Funds insufficient

And Taxes deficient,

And Deponents innumerable.

For shame leave this wicked employment,

Reform both your manners and lives;

You were never sent out

To make such a rout,

Go home, and look after your wives.”

A poetic effusion, one of the relics of a parliamentary election in the reign of William III., was printed in 1701. It is entitled “The Election, a Poem,” and evidently describes an election for the city of London; the scene of the incident is the Guildhall, where the electoral struggle was fought out beneath the shelter of the civic guardians, Gog and Magog. This production, redolent of the savour of the seventeenth century, is interesting as displaying the nature of “election squibs” under an early guise. The poem opens with a brief introduction of the principal performers, and alludes to the scene of the contest.

“The day was come when all the folks in furs

From sables, ermines, to the skins of curs,

In great Augusta’s Hall each other rub’d

And made it but one common powd’ring tub;

Ne’er was that Hall so throng’d in days of yore,

Ne’er were there seen such numerous crowds before.

From end to end the warm Electors thrust,

And move like ants in heaps of straw and dust.

Each busy mortal does his forces rally,

And from one nook to t’other quarter sally.

So close they prest, with such inhuman twitches;

The Civit Hogo did arise from breeches, Which thro’ the air increas’d into a breeze Made e’en the mighty Giants cough and sneeze. Here a fat spark could scarce his tallow save, And there a fool was jostled by a knave. Came to sweat out their venom ’gainst the State, Old feuds revive, and mischiefs new create.”

The bard describes the “City Godmother,” an obsolete mistress, whose traditions were with the Tories of the past:—

“She saw the temper of the noisy Hall,

And wept the Churches’ stars that downwards fall.”

In vain does the antique beldame recall the “bad old times” of fanaticism and oppression (when in a former reign the civic charters were taken away perforce), and exhort the sympathies of the crowd to turn from Whiggism and embrace the abuses of the Stuarts:—

“Poor I, the city Sybil of renown,

Am disrespected by the nauseous Town:

Of Innovations daily I complain,

But, like Cassandra, prophesy in vain.”

Next comes the hustings:—

“When on the Rostra, as upon a stage, The Candidates their partizans engage; You’d think the Hall an Amphitheatre And these the furious Gladiators were.”

The author first introduces the candidates who were obnoxious to him, and he certainly roasts them royally, and serves with a right pungent sauce. Priso, the first candidate to appear before the freeholders, had degraded himself as a tool of the late Court, and when in possession of the chair had basely surrendered the liberties of the city corporation.

“First Priso mounts the stage, and shows himself;

The crowd unanimous did hiss the elf,

And vow’d no Representative they’d have,

Who to a Tyrant their old Charter gave.”

Candidate number two, Child, was, it is hinted, in the interests of the “prince over the water,” whom he was hopeful of converting from popery.

“Next him an infant comes, a Babe of Grace,

And steps into his abdicated place,

Where from his throne he, lisping out aloud,

In words like these bespoke the noisy crowd.

‘You’re govern’d, sirs, but by uncommon rules,

If you elect such men as are not fools.

In hopes of this, this doubtful stage I enter,

And at much cost on an election venture.

I hope you’ve read the letter which I sent,

Design’d each silly sot to circumvent.

Tho’ I’m a Child,32 my parts are come to age, And for my sense the monied men engage: Both kings and people have esteemed it fit, That those who have most money have most wit. Men they are pleas’d with great and manly toys, But baubles are the true delight of boys. I hate of Barons the renownèd Tales And recommend you to the Prince of Wales. Who in the Senate I will move to come Into our Church from the curst See of Rome; Where he shall hector like the Son of Priam, And be as wise a Protestant as I am.’ ”

The sentiments put into the mouths of the candidates contain enlightenment upon city matters, as well as upon prominent citizens, both under the reign of William III. and his predecessors from the Restoration. Another candidate is thinly disguised under the nickname of “the Czar.” He is made to thus candidly address the “medley voting crowd:”—

“This City fam’d for Aldermen and Mayors,

The best intrusted with the public cares,

In former ages have obtained renown,

Great as the deeds our Ancestors have done.

I, tho’ of mean descent, and void of fame,

My ancestors obscure in birth and name,

By gold ennobl’d, am come here to serve ye

As once I did my master—that’s to starve ye.

E’er I a representative commence,

I’ll make confession here of all my sins;

I Judas first for my just pattern took, Betray’d my master, and his cause forsook. This made me rise, as other courtiers do, T’ attempt high Crimes, and Villainies pursue. Jemmy a special Banker had in me, His coin lay safe as in his Treasury: It was no cheat his money to purloin, He knew not how, alas, to use his coin. My breach of promise is so small a fault, That no wise man can wonder at. But that you might not of my wit complain, I’ve been a cheat in every monarch’s reign. When paper was equivalent to gold, And paper-skulls their paper-credit sold, I, by my cunning and my wise designing, Soon got the modern art of paper-coining.”

The poetaster has nothing but good repute to shower on the late representatives of the city of London; he bids his Muse—

“Tell to Augusta’s sons, the worth disclose Of those good patriots whom they lately chose. In front of these the aged Clito place, A better man did ne’er the City grace: Generous and brave, and true in former time, When Honesty was thought the highest crime. He in the Oxford Senate bravely stood, Like some tall tree, the Giant of the Wood, O’ertopping all in courage and address, Invaded-Rights and Freedoms to redress; Brought in a Bill t’ exclude a Popish prince, The want of which we have lamented since. And when the Chair he did most justly fill, And tempted was to serve a Tyrant’s will, Would not his fellow-citizens disarm, But boldly did withstand th’ impending storm.

He in the Senate sits unbrib’d, and knows

No cause—but where the common interest goes.

He, unconcern’d, the dangerous path doth tread,

Where Faction shakes its dire envenom’d head.”

Another favourite and patriotic candidate is “Asto,” who—

“early did his country’s cause embrace

And opposed villains even to their face.

The Charter he would not consent to yield,

But did defend it in th’ open field.

Gold never could his interest engage,

The common vice of this polluted age;

Whereby they villains into office vote,

Such as would cut their King’s and country’s throat.”

The other candidates—“friends to their country all,” according to the bard—are christened “Witho,” “Hethban,” and “Pastor.”

With the death of William III. the Tory prospects revived, and their attacks became bolder. In alluding to the accident which caused the king’s end, the party lyrists showed no compassion for “a fallen foe.”

“Let’s ’em mourn on, ’twould lessen much our woe

Had Sorrel stumbled thirteen years ago.”

(B. Higgons, 1702: The Mourners.)

One of the ballads in the Bagford collection applies to the elections which took place in Queen Anne’s reign (the first parliament dissolved April 5, 1705); this High Tantivy effusion of the Tory Alma-Mater is rather long-winded, and we must be content with a brief extract:—