CHAP. III.]

most aristocratic measure that ever was proposed in parliament.' Lord Althorp did not conceal his opinion-he avowed it-that the Reform Bill was the most aristocratic act ever offered to the nation; and the wonder is who could doubt it, while the new county representation preponderated over the addition to the towns. The inestimable virtue of the bill—that which made it the horror of the 'boroughmarket' men, as the Marquis of Blandford called them was the destruction of borough property by the substitution of election for nomination.

As for the reception of the measure by its enemies -we have seen that when Lord John Russell opened the business, it was supposed to be a jest, or a factious manœuvre. The staid Hansard, usually so strictly adhering to bare reporting, here gives us a passing glimpse of the aspect of the House when Lord John Russell read the list of boroughs proposed for disfranchisement. In the course of his reading 'he was frequently interrupted by shouts of laughter, cries of "Hear, hear!" from members for these boroughs, and various interlocutions across the table.' And what was it that they were about to lose? There was a man living, speaking, and preaching in those days, who could convey more wisdom in a jest, more pathos in a burlesque sketch, than other men could impress through more ordinary forms; and he has left a picture of the 'boroughmarket' which, as the last and unsurpassed, ought to be put on permanent record: 'So far from its being a merely theoretical improvement, I put it to any man, who is himself embarked in a profession, or has sons in the same situation, if the unfair influence of boroughmongers has not perpetually thwarted him in his lawful career of ambition and professional emolument? "I have been in three general engagements at sea," said an old sailor-"I have been twice wounded; I commanded the boats when the French frigate, the Astrolabe, was cut out so gallantly." "Then you are made a post-captain?" "No; I was very near it; but Lieutenant Thompson cut me out, as I cut out the French frigate; his father is town-clerk of the borough for which Lord F is member; and there my chance was finished." In the same manner, all over England, you will find great scholars rotting on curaciesbrave captains starving in garrets-profound lawyers decayed and mouldering in the Inns of Court, because the parsons, warriors, and advocates of boroughmongers must be crammed to saturation, before there is a morsel of bread for the man who does not sell his votes, and put his country up to auction; and though this is of everyday occurrence, the boroughsystem, we are told, is no practical evil. . . . But the thing I cannot, and will not bear, is this: what right has this lord, or that marquis, to buy ten seats in parliament, in the shape of boroughs, and then to make laws to govern me? And how are these masses of power redistributed? The eldest son of my lord has just come from Eton-he knows a good deal about Eneas and Dido, Apollo and Daphne, and that is all; and to this boy his father gives a six-hundredth part of the power of making laws, as he would give him a horse, or a double-barrelled gun. Then Vellum, the steward, is put in-an admirable man;

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he has raised the estates-watched the progress of the family Road and Canal Bills-and Vellum shall help to rule over the people of Israel. A neighbouring country gentleman, Mr Plumpkin, hunts with my lord-opens him a gate or two, while the hounds are running-dines with my lord-agrees with my lord -wishes he could rival the Southdown sheep of my lord and upon Plumpkin is conferred a portion of the government. Then there is a distant relation of the same name, in the county militia, with white teeth, who calls up the carriage at the opera, and is always wishing O'Connell was hanged, drawn, and quartered; then a barrister, who has written an article in the Quarterly, and is very likely to speak, and refute M'Culloch: and these five people, in whose nomination I have no more agency than I have in the nomination of the toll-keepers of the Bosphorus, are to make laws for me and my family -to put their hands in my purse, and to sway the future destinies of this country; and when the neighbours step in, and beg permission to say a few words before these persons are chosen, there is a universal cry of ruin, confusion, and destruction; we have become a great people under Vellum and Plumpkin -under Vellum and Plumpkin our ships have covered the ocean-under Vellum and Plumpkin our armies have secured the strength of the Hillsto turn out Vellum and Plumpkin is not reform, but revolution.'

In recognising the truth of this picture, and declaring that such a state of things could not have endured much longer, we must remember the cost of the breaking up to those who nobly volunteered to do it. The framers of the Reform Bill were noblemen and gentlemen of high family, who were laying down hereditary possessions of their own, while requiring the same sacrifice from others. The borough-wealth of the Russell family was known to be enormous; yet the Duke of Bedford cheered on Lord John Russell in his task. If we read with tender admiration of loyal noblemen and gentry who brought their wealth to the feet of an unprosperous sovereign, and made themselves landless for the sake of their king, what must we feel at this great new spectacle of the privileged classes divesting themselves of privilege for the sake of the people-for the honour and integrity of the country? It was a great deed; and posterity will ever declare it so. It is objected by some that these peers and gentlemen were well aware, and indeed openly avowed, that they could not retain this kind of wealth, nor, perhaps, any other, if reform of parliament were not granted; they apprehended a convulsion, and said so; declaring also that this was the reason why their reforms were made so prompt and sweeping. This is quite true; but it is precisely this which shews how superior these men were to the selfish greed which blinded the eyes of their opponents. They had open minds, clear eyes, calm consciences, and hands at the service of their country; and they therefore saw things in their true light, and turned the pressure of an irresistible necessity into a noble occasion of self-sacrifice, and disinterested care for the public weal; while the opposite order of borough-holders saw nothing, believed nothing, knew nothing, and declared

nothing, but that they would not part with their hereditary property and influence. When they protested that to take away their borough property was to destroy the aristocracy,' they passed a severer satire upon their order than could have been invented by any enemy. If the aristocracy of England could not subsist but upon a rotten-borough foundation, it was indeed a different order from that which the world had, for many centuries, supposed; but no one could look upon the dignified head of the prime-minister, or the countenances of his selfsacrificing comrades in the House of Peers, without feeling that the world was right, and that those who said anything so derogatory to the aristocratic tenure in England were basely and sordidly wrong. Lord Eldon was one of these; and in his speech at the Pitt Club, supposing that point granted, he went on to his view of the consequences; in the course of which we find him, who ought to have known better, falling into the vulgar error of the aristocracy, of supposing only one class of society to exist below that wealthy one with which they are compelled by their affairs to have business. Lord Eldon, like others who must know better, included under one head (the lower classes') everybody below the wealthiest bankers-manufacturers, tradesmen, artisans, labourers, and paupers; as we now and then hear fine people confusing the claims of great capitalists and humble cottagers, announcements in town-hall meetings and gossip in servants' halls. Lord Eldon must have known, but he seems to have forgotten, that there is a large proportion of society composed of the ignorant and hopeless classes, lying below the rank from which he rose; yet this is the representation he gives of the happy state of the English people which was to be broken up by the Reform Bill, through its destruction of the aristocracy. The aristocracy once destroyed,' he declared to his brother Pittites, 'the best supporters of the lower classes would be swept away. In using the term "lower classes "he meant nothing offensive. How could he do so? He himself had been one of the lower classes. He gloried in the fact; and it was noble and delightful to know that the humblest in the realm might, by a life of industry, propriety, and good moral and religious conduct, rise to eminence. All could not become eminent in public life-that was impossible; but every man might arrive at honour, independence, and competence.'

What?-every man?-he whose early years are spent in opening and shutting a door in a coal-pit, who does not know his own name, and never heard of God?-or any one of thousands of hand-loom weavers, who swallow opium on Saturday nights, to deaden the pains of hunger on Sundays?—or the Dorsetshire labourer, whose only prospect is that his eight shillings a week may be reduced to seven, and the seven to six, but never that his wages may rise? May 'every man' of these arrive at honour, independence, and competence? Truly, Lord Eldon did his best to prove how sorely these 'lower classes' needed some kind of representation in parliament, or at least the admission of some who might make known their existence and their claims.

The debate which followed the introduction of

the Reform Bill extended over seven nights, between seventy and eighty members delivering their views in the course of that time. The adversaries of the measure argued on grounds more contradictory than are often exhibited, even on great occasions like the present. Some cried out that democracy was henceforth in the ascendant, while others were full of indignation that the qualification was raised, and so many poor freemen disfranchised. Some complained of the qualification as too low, and others as too high. Some insinuated pity for the sovereign, as overborne by factious ministers; others were disgusted at the parade of the king's sanction, and intimated that it was nothing to them what the king thought. Of all the objections uttered, none rose higher in matter or tone than a deprecation of change in a country which had been so great under the old laws; and a remonstrance against lessening the proportionate power of the House of Lords.

On the side of the measure, there was a brief statement of objections on the score of deficiency; but an agreement to work cordially for the bill as it was offered, in the hope of supplying its deficiencies afterwards. Many would have desired an extension of the franchise downwards, as well as upwards and laterally, as was now provided by the removal of many restrictions. Yet more had hoped for the ballot, to purify the elections, and for a shortening of the duration of parliaments. But all agreed to relinquish their minor objects for the time, to secure the overthrow of borough corruption; and the great cry was agreed upon which from that hour rang through the land for above a year: The bill, the whole bill, and nothing but the bill.'

There was to be no division on the first reading. Neither party seemed disposed to bring the matter to any test so soon; the ministers apprehending being left in a minority, and their opponents not being yet combined for an organised resistance. The bill was read a first time on the 14th of March.

And now began the great stir among the middle classes which kept the country for nearly two years in a state which was called revolutionary, and with justice; but which shewed with how little disturbance of the public peace that prodigious growth of political sentiment can take place which is the resulting benefit of a principled revolution. At each stage of the business there was some disorder, and much noble manifestation of intelligence and will. Illuminations were called for foolishly at times, and windows broken-especially at Edinburgh in the course of this spring. Lists of placemen and pensioners, containing incorrect items and invidious statements, were handed about at a season when it was dangerous to inflame the popular mind against an aristocracy already too much vituperated. Many of the newspapers were not only violent on their own side, but overbore all rights of opinion on the other, as insufferably as the rankest of the Tory journals; and, naturally enough, a multitude of the ignorant believed that all the taxes would be taken off, and that every man would have the independence and competence that Lord Eldon talked about, if the Reform Bill passed, and regarded accordingly those who stood between them and the bill. These were

CHAP. III.]

the sins and follies of the time; and it is marvellous

that they were no worse.

Some will ask even now, and many would have asked at the time, whether the determination of the political unions to march on London in case of need, was not the chief sin and folly of the time. We think not, while feeling strong sympathy with those who come to an opposite conclusion. In judging of the right and wrong of a case so critical, everything depends on the evidence that exists as to what the principles and powers of the opposing parties really were. This evidence we shall find disclosed in the history of the next year. Meantime, in the March and April of 1831, the great middle class, by whose intelligence and determination the bill must be carried, believed that occasion might arise for their refusing to pay taxes, and for their marching upon London, to support the king, the administration, and the bulk of the nation, against a small class of unyielding and interested persons. The political unions made known the numbers they could muster; the chairman of the Birmingham Union declaring that they could send forth two armies, each fully worth that which had won Waterloo. On the coast of Sussex, ten thousand men declared themselves ready to march at any moment; Northumberland was prepared in like manner; Yorkshire was up and awake; and, in short, it might be said that the nation was ready to go up to London, if wanted. When the mighty processions of the unions marched to their meeting-grounds, the anti-reformers observed with a shudder that the towns were at the mercy of these mobs. The towns were at their mercy; but they were not mobs; and never were the good citizens more safe. The cry was vehement that the measure was to be carried by intimidation; and this was true. The question was whether, in this singular case, the intimidation was wrong. The ministers were vehemently accused of resorting to popular aid, and making use of all possible supports for the carrying their measure, in violation of all established etiquette. Lord Eldon thought them extremely vulgar, it is evident. The truth was that the popular aid resorted to them; and that they did consider the times too grave for etiquette, and the matter in hand far too serious to be let drop, when a momentary vacillation on their part would bring on immediate popular convulsion. So, they did declare in public, at the lord mayor's Easter dinner-what Lord Eldon thought 'perfectly unconstitutional'that they had the king's confidence and good wishes: they did wait in silence to see whether it would become necessary for the political unions to act; and they did not retire from office when left with a majority of only one, but bore with all taunts and sneers, and preferred a neglect of propriety and precedent to a desertion of the cause to which they had pledged their fidelity. We cannot reckon any of these things, though irregular and portentous, among the sins and follies of the time, but rather among its noblest features. Among these we should reckon also a public declaration against the bill, put forth by several hundreds of merchants, bankers, and eminent citizens of London; a declaration which, though proved mistaken in its view, was in its

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diction and manner, calm, loyal, and courageous. If the opposition of the anti-reformers generally had been more of this character, there would have been less marshalling of political unions.

Some of the experienced old Conservatives thought it one of the sins and follies of the time, that their own party made no preparation for combined action against the bill. It was on the second reading that the ministers had been left with a majority of one, in the fullest House ever known to have divided-the numbers being, besides the speaker and the four tellers, 302 to 301, making a House of 608. The ministers did not resign on this; and the people illuminated because they did not. The Easter holidays were at hand; and immediately after, the bill was to be considered in committee. These Easter holidays were the time when, as the experienced old Conservatives thought, their party should have been organising for opposition; but the party were very confident that it was quite unnecessary to take such trouble. The late vote had shewn that the Whigs could not carry their measure. They were, their opponents declared, factious set, who vulgarly staid in office as long as possible, and were preparing all possible trouble for their successors; but they were now proved too weak in the Commons to be formidable to the Lords. All will be lost,' Lord Eldon wrote in this interval, 'by the confidence with which people act, and with which they persuade themselves that all will be safe. Lord Sidmouth, on the day in which the second reading of the bill was carried, spoke to me of the majority by which it would undoubtedly be lost and negatived. And now the few, very few individuals here whom I see, speak of the rejection of the bill, as if it was certainly to be rejected, though no two persons agree as to what shall be the course of the measures by which its rejection can be accomplished.' On the 18th of April, the Commons went into committee on the Reform Bill; and on the 19th, ministers were defeated on the point of reducing the number of members in the House. General Gascoyne moved that the numbers should not be reduced; and he obtained a majority of eight over ministers.

6

On the 21st, or rather on the morning of the 22d, there was another defeat, which brought matters to a crisis. The opposition, after losing much time in talking about anything but the question before the House, refused to go into the consideration of a question of supply. They moved and carried an adjournment against the chancellor of the exchequer, leaving ministers in a minority of 22. This act of the opposition was looked upon, by some stretch of construction, as a refusal of the supplies. In the morning, the ministers offered their resignations to the king; but he would not accept them. desired that they should go on with the Reform Bill, and get it carried as well as they could; but, unfortunately, though very naturally, he objected to the first measure which they considered essential -the dissolution of the new parliament, now in the midst of its first session.

Не

Though other parts of that mighty struggle might appear more imposing, more dangerous, more awful,

The probable necessity of this course, and the king's repugnance to it, had been discussed throughout London for some days, and especially on the preceding day. The administration and the cause were injured by the understood difficulty with the sovereign; and it was in a manner perfectly unprecedented that Lord Wharncliffe, on the night of the 21st, had asked Lord Grey in the House whether ministers had advised the king to dissolve parliament. On Lord Grey declining to answer the question, Lord Wharncliffe gave notice that he should move to-morrow an address to the king, remonstrating against such a proposed exertion of the royal prerogative. After what happened in the other House at a later hour, there was nothing to be done but to enforce upon the king the alternative of losing his ministers or dissolving parliament; and the next morning Lord Grey went to the palace for

the purpose of procuring a decision of the matter. He and a colleague or two walked quietly and separately across the Park, to avoid exciting notice. For some hours there appeared little chance of a decision; but at length the perplexed sovereign began to see his way. He was yielding-had yielded-but with strong expressions of reluctance, when that reluctance was suddenly changed into alacrity by the news which was brought him of the tone used in the House of Lords about the impossibility that he would actually dissolve parliament, undoubted as was his constitutional power to do so. What did they dare to meddle with his prerogative? the king exclaimed; he would presently shew them what he could and would do. He had given his promise, and now he would lose no time; he would go instantly-that very moment-and dissolve parliament by his own voice. 'As soon as the

CHAP. III.]

royal carriages could be got ready,' his ministers agreed. Never mind the carriages; send for a hackney-coach,' replied the king-a saying which spread over the kingdom, and much enhanced his popularity for the moment.

Lord Durham ran down to the gate, and found but one carriage waiting-the lord chancellor's. He gave orders to drive fast to Lord Albemarle's, the master of the horse. Lord Albemarle was at his late breakfast, but started up on the entrance of Lord Durham, asking what was the matter. 'You must have the king's carriages ready instantly.' 'The king's carriages! Very well: I will just finish my breakfast.' 'Finish your breakfast! Not you! You must not lose a moment. The king ought to be at the House.' 'Lord bless me! is there a revolution?' 'Not at this moment; but there will be if you stay to finish your breakfast.' So the tea and roll were left, and the royal carriages drove up to the palace in an incredibly short time. The king was ready and impatient, and walked with an unusually brisk step. And so did the royal horses, in their passage through the streets, as was observed by the curious and anxious gazers.

Meantime, the scenes which were taking place in the two Houses were such as could never be forgotten by those who witnessed, or who afterwards heard any authentic account of them.

The peers assembled in unusual numbers at two o'clock to hear Lord Wharncliffe's motion for an address to his majesty, praying that his majesty would be graciously pleased not to exercise his undoubted prerogative of dissolving parliament; every one of them being in more or less expectation that his lordship's speech might be rendered unavailing by some notification from the throne, though few or none probably anticipated such a scene as took place.

Almost immediately, the lord chancellor left the woolsack. Could he be gone to meet the king? Lord Shaftesbury was called to the chair, and Lord Wharncliffe rose. As soon as he had opened his lips, the Duke of Richmond, a member of the administration, called some of their lordships to order, requesting that, as bound by the rules, they would be seated in their proper places. This looked as if the king was coming. Their lordships were angry; several rose to order at the same time, and said some sharp things as to who or what was most disorderly; so that the Duke of Richmond moved for the standing order to be read, that no offensive language should be used in that House. In the midst of this lordly wrangling, and of a confusion of voices rising into cries, boom! came the sound of cannon which announced that the king was on the way! Some of the peeresses had by this time entered, to witness the spectacle of the prorogation. For a few minutes, something like order was restored, and Lord Wharncliffe read his proposed address, which was as strong a remonstrance, as near an approach to interference with the royal prerogative, as might be expected from the occasion. The lord chancellor re-entered the House, and, without waiting for a pause, said, with strong emphasis: 'I never yet heard that the crown ought

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not to dissolve parliament whenever it thought fit, particularly at a moment when the House of Commons had thought fit to take the extreme and unprecedented step of refusing the supplies.' Before he could be further heard for the cries of 'Hear, hear!' shouts were intermingled of 'The king! the king!' and the lord chancellor again rushed out of the House, rendering it necessary for Lord Shaftesbury to resume the chair. Every moment now added to the confusion. The hubbub, heard beyond the House, reached the ear of the king-reached his heart, and roused in him the strong spirit of regality. The peers grew violent, and the peeresses alarmed. Several of these high-born ladies, who had probably never seen exhibitions of vulgar wrath before, rose together, and looked about them, when they beheld their lordships below pushing and hustling, and shaking their hands in each others' faces.

Lord Mansfield at length made himself heard; and he spoke strongly of the 'most awful predicament' of the king and the country, and on the conduct of ministers in conspiring together against the safety of the state, and of making the sovereign the instrument of his own destruction;' words which naturally caused great confusion. He was proceeding when the shout again arose: 'The king! the king!' and a commanding voice was heard over all, solemnly uttering: 'God save the king!' Lord Mansfield proceeded, however. The great doors on the right side of the throne flew open: still his lordship proceeded. Lord Durham, the first in the procession, appeared on the threshold, carrying the crown on its cushion still his lordship proceeded. The king appeared on the threshold; and his lordship was still proceeding, when the peers on either side and behind laid hands on him, and compelled him to silence, while his countenance was convulsed with agitation.

The king had a flush on his cheek, and an unusual brightness in his eye. He walked rapidly and firmly, and ascended the steps of the throne with a kind of eagerness. He bowed right and left, and desired their lordships to be seated while the Commons were summoned. For a little time it appeared doubtful whether even the oil of anointing would calm the tossing waves of strife; but, after all, the Peers were quiet sooner than the Commons.

That House, too, was crowded, expectant, eager, and passionate. Sir Richard Vyvyan was the spokesman of the opposition; and a very strong one. A question of order arose, as to whether Sir Richard Vyvyan was or was not keeping within the fair bounds of his subject-which was a reform petition; whereas he was speaking on 'dissolution or no dissolution.' The speaker appears to have been agitated from the beginning; and there were several members who were not collected enough to receive his decisions with the usual deference. Honourable members turned upon each other, growing contradictious, sharp, angry-even abusive. Lord John Russell attempted to make himself heard, but in vain his was no voice to pierce through such a tumult. The speaker was in a state of visible

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