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PARLIAMENT
PAST AND PRESENT
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R
PARLIAMENT
PAST AND PRESENT
A POPULAR AND PICTURESQUE ACCOUNT OF A
THOUSAND YEARS IN THE PALACE OF WESTMINSTER,
THE HOME OF THE MOTHER OF PARLIAMENTS
ARNOLD WRIGHT AND PHILIP SMITH
[n'n'n'n
fa'n'n'n
bddd
WITH 643 ILLUSTRATIONS
INCLUDING
EIGHTEEN COLOURED PLATES AND A
PHOTOGRAVURE PLATE
LONDON: HUTCHINSON V CO.. PATERNOSTER Row
•511.
FHI.VTZD liy
IHZM I, «> ,-,,s, ASI) viXEY, LD.,
UatfOll ASI) AYLE8BUIIY.
CONTENTS.
CHAP.
INTRODUCTORY .
PARK
1
C11AP.
• XX.
I.
OLD-TIME PARLIAMENTS AND PARLIAMENT
MEN .........
9
XXI.
XXII.
II.
MEMORIES OF ST. STEPHEN'S — THE SIX-
XXIII.
TEENTH CENTURY
17
III.
MEMORIES OF ST. STEPHEN'S (continued) —
THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY
25
XXIV.
XXV.
IV.
MEMORIES OF ST. STEPHEN'S (continued) —
THE COMMONWEALTH
15
XXVI.
V.
MEMORIES OF ST. STEPHEN'S (cmitinncj) —
THE RESTORATION AND THE REVOLUTION
XXVII.
OF 1688 . . .. ......
51
XXVIII.
VI.
THE SPEAKER AS HOST — PARLIAMENTARY
COSTUME
57
XXIX.
VII.
SOCIAL ASPECTS OF PARLIAMENTARY LIFE
— WINING AND DINING .
67
XXX.
VI IL
THE LOBBY
77
XXXI.
IX.
LADIES AT THE HOUSE ....
86
XXXII.
X.
MEMORIES OF ST. STEPHEN'S (continurd)—
THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY .
95
XXXIII.
XI.
WESTMINSTER HALL: ITS HISTORY AND
XXXIV.
XII.
XIII.
TRADITIONS ......
WESTMINSTER HALL: MEMORABLE TRIALS
THE DESTRUCTION OF THE PALACE BY
FIRE. i . . '. ,'
133
148
164
XXXV.
XXXVI.
XXXVIL
XIV.
CORONATION CEREMONIES AT THE PALACE
173
XV.
MFMORIES OF ST. STEPHEN'S (continued) —
THE NINETEENTH CENTURY .
2CO
XVI.
THE PRESS GALLERY .
221
XVI L
THE DESIGN OF THE XEW PALACE
231
XVIII.
DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF THE HOUSE
OF LORDS
237
XIX.
DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF THE HOUSE
251
THE LIBRARY 260
BELOW STAIRS AT ST. STEPHEN'S . 265
THE CLOCK TOWER AND BIG BEN . 275
THE CRYPT CHAPEL AND CLOISTERS AND
THE JEWEL TOWER .... 285
ST. STEPHEN'S CHAPEL . . . .283
PARLIAMENT IN BEING — ROYAL
SPEECHES 297
PARLIAMENT IN BEING — THE
SPEAKER . . . . .318
SPEAKERS — FAMOUS AND INFAMOUS . 329
PARLIAMENT IN BEING — THE HOUSE OF
COMMONS AT WORK .... 361
CALLED TO THE BAR — PARLIAMENTARY
PRIVILEGE 380
THE HOUSE AT PRAYERS . . . 39(1
IN COMMITTEE . . . .'.400
LORD CHANCELLORS — FAMOUS AND IN-
FAMOUS . . . ... . 422
THE VICTORIAN PARLIAMENTS . . 409
„ „ „ (continmd) 480
„ „ „ (concluded) 504
THE PRECINCTS OF THE PALACE. . 535
THE MINISTERIAL ANNEXE OF THE
PALACE OF WESTMINSTER . . .564
APPENDIX : —
Parliaments of England . . . 579
„ „ Great Britain . . 580
„ „ the United Kingdom . 580
„ and Conventions of the
Estates of Scotland . 580
„ in Ireland . . . 680
Lord Chancellors and Keepers of the
Great Seal 581
Speakers of the House of Commons . 583
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PHOTOGRAVURE PLATE.
Interior of the old House of Commons in St. Stephen's Chapel, 1793
FroHtinjiirce
COLOURED PLATES.
Queen
William Cecil, Lord P.urghley ......
Henry St. John, Vim-omit IJolingbroke . ...
Charles James Fox ........
The Court of Chancery in the reign of George I. . .
Simon Franer, Lord Lovat .......
A Committee of the House of Commons at the Fleet
Prison, 1729 .........
The opening of Parliament by King Edward VII. .
A yeoman of the Guard ..... . .
Fati'iffagr
24
41
. 97
121
. 137
161
201
241
265
Facing page
The Houses of Parliament, from Lambeth Pal::ee . . 297
The Right Hon. William Court Gully, K.C. . . 353
The Marquis of Salisbury, K.G 377
The Right Hon. Warren Hastings . . . . . . 393
Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon 433
Henry John Temple, thin! Viscount Palmerston, K.G. . 465
Benjamin Disraeli, Earl of Beacoiisfifld, K.G. . . 491
The Right Hon. William Ewart Gladstone . . . 527
Downing Street 569
vi
List of Illustrations
OTIIKK ILLISIHATIONS.
MM
I
New Palace Yard . . ,
Merrure (a umiinval |*tnling from St.
Mepbsu'*Chip*l)
Eo**ac* (a mediaeval i aa.ting fn>m St.
Stephen * Chaprl > 1
The King's Ct an pion 5
'Ike famous trial of Charles I. In West-
minster Hall in January, 1649 . . 8
Tbe House of Commona mace ... 4
Ibe Royal ban|Uet at tbe coronation of
Geoiye IV 6
Sketch made by Hogarth at tbe trial of
Lord Lovat in March, 1747 ... 6
l-ord llruugham 6
The Crvi* Chapel . ' ... 7
Sir Hubert I'. .-I 8
Loi.l I'.lln eMoll 8
Alfred suhmiitin!: the law to tl.e tt itnn . 9
Kd»..,.l 1 10
II. mi 111. renewing Magtia Charta . II
tiexffrey Chaucer 12
Parliament of E Iward I IS
A view of the Palace and Abbey in the
seventeen h century .... 14
Richard II. |i«s*ini: sentence of banishment
on the Dukes of Hen-ford and Norfolk 15
Ibe Parliament in which Richard II. 'a
i, -i-^ i iiit ion was declare. I, and the Duke
of l*stuaat«r recognised as King . . 16
Sir 1 bun aa Mute 17
Canlinxl Wolary 18
An intrusion upon the Coinn.ona in the
Cliapter House 1»
latimer preaching before King Edward
VI. in tbe " preaching-} lace" at We«t-
mins'er ... ... SO
Sir Nichul.v Bacon 21
Queen Eliialwth in Pailiamenl ... 22
V ill-am Cecil, Lord Unrghley ... 23
Bud s-eye view of tbe Palace, taken from
Agga's map of Westminster ... 24
James L, and VI. of Scotland ... 25
Sir Wal.er Raleigh 26
Parliament in session in the reign of
Jan e< 1 27
Westminster ITall and Abbey, f.om tbe
Tillage of Charing 28
Sir Edward Coke 29
Sir John Glanvilla . 19
John S«lden . . • 80
The House of Lord* in the time of Cha lei
I 81
The children of Ci.arle* 1 82
Chatled. . 88
The Star Chamber 84
A scene in the Honwof Loids ... 85
Tbomaa Wen' worth, Earl of Stratford . 86
A memoiable scene In the House of
Common* 87
A vtew of tl e Palace and Abbey . . SS
John Harn|<den . . . . • . .89
William Lrntball . . . . 8!>
A famous scene in the house of Common. 40
The train-hands leaving London . . 41
St Stephen's Chapel 42
The defence of Ruing House ... 43
" Pride'. 1'urve" 41
Tbe Great Sen) of the Commonwealth . 45
Oliver Cromwell 46
The expulsion of meinWrsfium the Houae
of Common* by Cnimwell on April
20lh. 1658 47
Queen Henrietta Maria .... 48
" ThI* House la to let' .... 40
General Monk declaring fur a free Parlia-
ment 50
IliiUtri.le Whitelock 51
Andrew Marvell 62
lleorge Villiers, second Duke of Bucking-
ham f.2
The ..it o I. on Sir John Coventry . . M
Sir John Coventry 54
Parliament ottering the Crown to William
and Mary 55
Sir John Trevor 56
Tl., sue bed in tbe hiieaker's house . . 57
Speaker Adilington (af.erwarda i.ord Sid-
month) 68
The H|>e.iker's State coach .... 59
'I he S|«aker'a Library i'0
The Right lion William Conn linlly . 61
Mrs. (iu My in her boudoir, with her private
secretary 61
Mr. KdwardOnlly, tbe Speaker a sectetary «•-'
Mi~Mielley Gully 62
T*w Speaker'* 8 ate tHniof-Boooi . . C8
Tbe 1C. -I Dialling-Room In the Si*a-.ei'a
.: 64
Elws>, the miser 66
MOT
From one House to another. *6
Wine cell in of tbe House of Common* . 67
'Ibe V.U-tui* vat . 68
Mr. John llellan.y «
Tue overmantel In the Dining U.-.m,
H»iii-< of Common. .... 70
The Illegal bar 70
'he House of Comn on* Dining- Room . 71
Tu* il'.use of Common. Dining R "«n : The
Miniateia' table 71
The Itonw of lairds Dining- KOUIII . . 72
Ctiarle* Dicken. 78
He-tmin-t-i Hall 74
I'ne Commons hi.b whisky vat ... 75
The 1 obbr Iwr 76
Ibe lower Ixibby of tbe oil House of
Common* 77
Tbe orange girl 78
°l he I obhy, Houae of Cotillions . . . 79
Charles Jalnea F,.x s* Deinoithene* . . 80
The ins Munition of the Hiuht Hon. S|«ncer
Peneval in the Lobby of tbe Hollar of
Commons on May llth, 1812 . . 81
A tablet in St. st.-iih.-n1* Hall . . 82
The Siieaker'a procesaion .... 88
Tue door of the House of Common* by
which the l*eginl..tive Chamber i*
entered from the Ixibby ... 84
Coriidor from Common* Lobby to Confer-
ence-Room 85
A medimval episode in Parliament . . 86
A lady petitioner at the liar of the HOUM
in 1688 87
The Duchess of Gordo 88
Tbe Duchess of Qneenaberry (as a milk-
maid) .59
The old Hotue of Comn. on. M)
A scene outside the House of Lonla in 1738 91
Outside entrance to Ladiea' Gallery of
present House 92
Present House of Comn. on., showing ladies'
grille above tbe Reporter*' Galkry .
The Terrace : Afternoon tea . . .
Robert Harley, Earl of Oxford .
O}iening of Parliament by Queen Anne
Joseph Addison
Sir Richard S'eele
Articles of Union presented by Com-
mlxioners to Queen Anne In 1706 . 99
Sir Robert Walpole ..... 100
Tbe Uouae of Commons in Sir Robert Wai-
pole'* Administration . . . .101
11 The origin and eaeenoe of a itr aid excise " 102
William Pulteney, Earl of Baih ... 108
The guinea lost by Walpole to PulMney in
a bet made in the House . . . 104
The liii'ht Hon. Henry Pelhani . . .101
George llubb Dodlngton. Lord Melouulje . 105
Horace Wal|x>le, fourth Earl of Orford . 104
Interior of the Honae of I ord* In 1742 . 107
The Duke of Newcastle and Lord Holland 108
The Houae of Commona in the eighteenth
century ....... 10S
Thomas IVIIuim Holies, Duke of New-
castle, K.<; ....... 100
William Pitt, first Karl of Chatham . . 110
KiclianHiivmillx. Karl T.-mpl.-, K.C. . Ill
The Iliirht Hon. William I"- ar.1 Hamilton 112
Ni'» l':il:ioo Yard in tbe eighteenth century 118
Cli&rle* ToiMi-1,. u.l. Lord Cbatham'« Cluin-
celhirof the Bxcheipier . . .114
A Mctioti of the wondotfnl ta|iestry haii'.--
iir.'- which adorned the walUof the old
II. UT of Lords ..... IK.
Charlea Lonnoi, third DnVe of Kichmond 110
The fatal seizure of the Earl of Chiith.xn
in the House of Lor<U on April 7(h,
177H ..... .117
Kntmnce to tin- old lloiue of Lords in the
nchtii'iiih century . . . .118
Ixnd North, aftvrwaid* *eKH»l &irl of
.i.iilford ...... II"
J<.hn Wllke* ....... 1-"
"The complent vermin ciUhor" . . 121
I1 .|oll.-l I!:,,,,. ...... 1
Ilillke'i. " ilasri'iT fli.-*-rh " .... 128
Iti.-h.-ird llriii'l.-v Sli.-iid.m . . . , IM
Interior of thr II. .11 ..... 1 C ..... i,,.m. in 1742. 1 '.'.'.
Tbe Riuht lion. Rdiniind llurke . . !-'••
Charle* Jamea Km as a youiitt man .
Char es .lam™ For ..... 127
\!..« ... W, -imiluter ..... 12<
'laming at Altmuk'n .... 12'.'
The Itiulit Hon. Ai:hurl)n»low. . ISO
I'liv liik'ht Hon. William Pitt . . .131
Statue of W. Pitt at the entrance to St.
Stephen'. II. ,11 ..... 1J2
Statue of C. J. Fox at the entrance to SL
I Stephen's Hall . 182
William Rufus IIS
Yi-w of Wr.tndn.UT In IS.'rt ... 184
luteiior of We*tmln.tw Hall in the middle
of the seventeenth century . . . 186
We-tminster In the early |aut of tbe seven-
teenth centnrr 186
General view of Westminster Hall . . 137
Edward the Black P.ince .... 188
Henry III. and the barons . . . . IM
K.I. laid III 140
Tbe Painted Chamber . . . . • . 141
The Commons entrance to Westn.intter
Hall .142
Tbe lving-in-s'at» of the Right lion. W. K.
(ila.lrt.ine in We.lmin.ter Hall . . 148
Samuel l*epys 144
Staircase in Westminster Hall . . .141
'I he Drat day of term, Westminster Hall . 145
Peter the Great 14<t
Old Palace Yard in the eighteenth century 147
Sir John S,»ne, R.A 148
The old landing place for the Palace of
Westn in.ter 149
Sir Thou as More 160
.lubn Fi.her, lli.hopof K<vheitfT . . 160
Henry VIII. in We.tmin.ter Hall . . 151
"Ihr tnie maner of tbe Sit'ing of the
I ..r.Uand Commons of 1>oth howaesof
Parliament upon the trjal of Thoma*
Earle of Stratford, Lord Lieutenant of
Ireland" 153
Tbe trial of Cbarle* I. in Westminster Hall 158
The death warrant of Charle* I. . . . 164
Tbe funeral of Cbarle. I. . . . • . 155
Dr. Sacheverell 156
Tbe acquittal of the seven bisho}ia . . 157
A quaint print of Ixml Kilmamockaml the
other rebel lords issued at the time of
their trial in Westminster Hall . . 158
The trial of Simon Fraaer, Lord Lovat. In
Westminster Hall before both House*
of Parliament 169
Sketches made by Hogarth at tbe trial of
Lord Lovat 160
fbe execution of Robert Shirley. Earl of
Ferrers, at Tyburn, May 5th, 17UO, for
tbe murder of hia steward, Mr. John-
ton 161
The Duchess of Kingston .... 162
The trial of Warren Hastings In West-
minater Hall 168
The burning of tbe House* of Pailiament,
October 16th, 1S84, a* seen from the
river 164
St. Stephen'* Chapel, looking eaat, after
the nre .165
The Houae of Lord* and tbe House of
Common*, aa they were before the fire
of October 16th, 1RS4 .... 166
Ruins of the House of Lords and the .louse
of Common* after the fire . . . 167
Tbe Cloister Court, St. Stephen'* Chapel,
after the fire . ... 168
Dean Ireland !<•'.'
Tablet in St. Stephen's Hull . . .169
Sir Charle* Barry 170
The new House, of Parliament . . . 171
The new Palace at Westminster . . . 17-
The coronation chair 173V
The Crown offered to Harold by the |ieople 174
The coronation of Harold at Westminster . 174
The coronation of Henry VI. . . . 175
Ki.'li.ii.l 1 1. in his coronation ndie.. . . 176
The coronation pioonwiun of Edward VI.
pntceeding from the Tower to We»t-
min«l<T on February l!«th, K>47 . . 177
The coronation of Henry IV. . 17^
Queen Elir-itielb'a river coronation pro-
cession 179
Charle. I. in hi* colon, iti.nl rol»ea . . 180
The coronation of Charl.s II. in West-
minster Abbey 1~!
Th.. Champion |>eiforiiiim; the ,<-i,-mony of
the challrngi' in Westminster Hall at
the colon. ition «f .lame. II. . . . 182
The coronation .H-remonv in Westminster
Hall -.lame. II 18S
Herb women in the comnation procession
of James 1 1. . . ... 184
The coronation procession of (iourge II. . 186
Ttiiiniphal arch erected in \\.-tiiniiKler
Hall for the coronation of Georgr II. . 186
The coronal inn of George 111. . . 1 "7
The Court of Claims 1S8
Procession of the regalia at the coronation
.1 <;eorgelV 180
George I V. in hi* coronation robe* . . UK)
Tbe- coronal ion of George IV. in West-
minster Abbey 191
List of Illustrations
vii
PAGE
192
194
194
195
196
197
198
109
200
101
202
202
203
204
104
105
206
207
207
208
2C9
210
210
211
The crown of George IV. .. . .
The coronation procession of George IV.
from the Abbey to Westminster Hall . 103
Miss Fellowes . . . . . .
Queen Car. line ......
The coronation banquet of George IV. in
Westminster Hall .....
The alb used by Queen Victoria at her
coronation ......
The coronation of Queen Victoria in West-
minster Abbey .....
Queen Victoria's coronation timid-- and
stole .......
The cope or imperial mantle worn by Queen
Victoria at her coronation . . .
The Right Hon. George Canning . .
A caricature by Gillray of Sheridan . .
The Duke of Portland ... .
Canning ... ...
I ord Brougham ......
The Rev. Sydney Smith . . . .
'• A box of useful knowledge " . . .
Tl.e Right Hon. George Canning . .
The Marquis of Lomlondei ry , better known
as Lord Castlereagh . . . .
The House of Lords as fitted up in 1SS5
after the fire ......
Ihe House of Commons as fitted up in 1835
after the fire ......
Viscount Palmerston .....
Sir Robert Peel ......
The Duke of Wellington . . . .
I ...i.l KM. .11 .......
William Wilberforce .....
Queen Caroline ...... 21
Lord Erskine ...... 212
The trial of Qneen Caroline in the ..1 1
House of Peers ..... 213
Earl Grey ....... 214
Queen Caroline returning from the House
of Ixirds after her trUl. . . .215
" The House wot kreps bad hours" . . 216
The carrying of the second rending of the
first Reform Uill in the Honse of Com-
mons ....... 217
" Bringing up inir bill" . . . .218
The Reform Bill of 1832 receiving the
Royal assent in the House of I ordfl . T19
George Trout ...... 220
Head of a news)iaper of the sevent«-en'li
century ....... 221
Edward Cave ...... 222
In. Johnson ....... 123
William W..«lfall ..... 224
Daniel O'CnuiwIl ...... 2i5
Mr. Justin McCarthy ..... 2LT.
The Press Unitary of the House of Com-
mons ....... 227
Si. Kdward Clarke, K.C., M.I'. . . . 128
The Tress Gallery of the II. -u*- ..f I onls . 2.!l
Mr. II. W. Lucy . .... '.30
'I be House of Commons . . . . 231
The Victoria Tower, from the gniden . . 132
The Houses of I'm liamrnt. from lamWth
Bridge ....... 233
The twise of the Victoria Tower . . . 234
Tbe Houses of Parliament, from Parliament
-Siuare ....... 235
The \ ictoti.i Tower ..... 136
Th« entrance to the Honse of L'.rdR . . 237
"The Death of Nelson" . . . .188
The King's Rolring-l<o»n i . . . . 2£9
The Kind's P»om<r-|{oom : Another view
of the a)iartii ent ..... 239
"The Heeling of Wellington ami Rlucher
after Waterl'io" ..... ?40
The House of Lords .... 241
Ihe Peers' chamber : View from the wool-
212
..... 248
The Roy.il (iallery as fitted up for the trial
of 1.01,1 Itnxell ..... 243
The Prince's Chamber ..... 244
ThctturofUw HonMof Loidi . . 244
Fresco in the Peer.-*' robins-room : " Moces
bringing i\o\\ n the Tables of Ihe lj««f " 245
Painting in the Peers robing-rooni : " 'I be
Judgment of Daniel " . 245
Frescoes over the Strangers' Gallery in the
House ..f I. on Is ..... 246
Fheplace in the Prince's ClrmiU-r . . 247
The (V-iiLi.il lull, showing the last s'atne
of Mr. Gladstone ..... 248
-St. Stephen's II, ill ..... 249
St-itue of Sir Charles Barry. ... 250
Fresco in the Commons corridor: "The
Lost Sleep of Arir\H" .... 2.1
Bmtof Lord Randolph Churchill . . 252
Mr. llcniy l>. Eiskine, C.V.O. . . .252
The legislative Chamber, Honse of Com-
nioDs ....... 253
The S|«akei'« seal, House of Commons . 254
PAGE
Part of the cloister of St. Stephen's Chapel 256
Newspaper-room, House of Commons . 256
Members' smoking-room, House of Com-
mons 257
Grand staircase, house of Commons . . 258
" Aye " Division Lobby, House of Com-
mons 259
14 No " Division Lobby, House of Commons 259
The Library (map-room), House of Com-
mons 260
The Library, Honse of Colim-ons . . 261
Joseph Hume 262
Sir Thomas Erskine May, K.C.B. (Lord
Farnborougb) 262
The Library, House of Commons . . 2u3
The old key : A relic of the Gunpowder
Plot 264
The manuscript journals .... 264
The gunpowder conspirators . . . 265
Etchings by George Cruikshank . . 266
Facsimile of the letter to Lord Montengle . 267
An arch of the cellar under the ..1,1 House
of Lords in which ttie gunpowder was
placed by Guy Fawkes and his 'brother
conspirators . . . . . .
The signatures of Guy Fawkes before and
af n- torture
Old lantern pieserved in the Ashmolean
Museum, Oxford .....
Execution of some of the gunpowder con-
spirators at Tyburn ....
The fire always kept burning at the bottom
of the Clock Tower for the purpose of
ventilation
Wool used in the Ventilation Department
for filtering the air ....
Chambers for the supply of fresh air under
the House of Commons
Big fan exhauster, Ventilating De|>ar'-
ment
The radiators under the House of Lords
Electric switches under the Honse of Lords
Old Clock Tower, Westminster, from
Hollar's drawing of New Palace Yard
Gallery over clock face, Big Ben
The Clock Tower, from the roof of West-
minster Hall
The lop of the Clock Tower . . .
Hil! lien : The clock works . . . .
The mechanism for striking Big Ben .
I nsi.le the clock face, Big Ben . . .
Inside the lantern, Big Ben . .
" Big Ben "
The helfr
sack
The Royal Gallery
268
MB
S89
STO
271
271
273
274
274
878
276
273
270
280
281
282
fS3
284
2S5
286
587
288
A section of the Crypt Chapel
Font in i be Crypt Chiqwl • . . •
The Cloisters, U<m*e of Commons
The Oratory * ,
The Jewel Tower
The nM standards, Jewel Tower . £90
ImjKmnded false measure* in the Jewel
Tower museum . ' * . 291
The Jewel Tower £9.
One of the pointings on the wall of M.
Stephen's CUa|*l 203
One of the basso-relievos in the centre of
the groin* of St. Stephen's Chapel . 294
A figure of an angel which appeared in the
ornamental stone- woik of old St.
Stephen's Chapel cloisters . . . 294
Repix-Kiiiation of the Saviour as sern in
the masonry of the nM Sr. S'eph«*n'a
Chujiel cloisters 294
Sacrt-d monogram used in the ornninenta-
tion of the oM St. Stephen's Chnpul
cluister* 294
A i MM n ml bearings from 8tv (Stephen's
Chapol £»5
Henry V. in Parliament .... £('7
Henry VII. and his Council ... 198
Kdward t. addressing hU subjects . . 299
Edward VI. and his 'Council ... 800
Henry VI. opening 1'arliament with his
n other . 301
Charles II. on his way to open Parlian ent 302
The Hutiae of Peer*, with Henry VIII. on
the throne . . . . . 303
Geoige II I. on his throne in tfe Pouse of
Lords 304
(ieorge 1 1 1. attacked by a mob . . .305
'Ihe King's llobing-Room, House of Lords,
aa it was before the fire . . . 306
George IV. going in state to open Parlia-
ment • .807
William IV. proroguing Parliament . . 808
'I In: o]H-ning of Parliament by Queen
Victoria 809, 310
The Royal Entrance to the House of Lords 311
The Koyal Staircase, House- <>f Lords . . 3L2
The Royal Throne, Hou*e of Lords . . S13
The Yeomen of the (iuard searching the
vaults 314
The opening of King Edward's first Parlia-
ment 315
King Edward going to open his first 1 arlia-
U It'll t: . . . . . . .316
King Edward about to read his speech in
the House of Lords .... 317
William of Wykeham . ... 318
Sir John Popham 3.9
Sir Harbottle Urimston, Bart. . . . 3LO
The Right lion. Arthur Onslow . . .321
The Speaker's House : River Front . . 322
The Right Hon. Charles Abbot, first Lord
Colchester 323, 304
The Right Hon. James Abercromby . . 324
The Speaker's House 325
" A parting compliment" .... 326
St. Stephens Chapel and the Speaker's
House 327
" Caught napping" 328
Cardinal WoL*ey . . . 3£9
Richard III 330
Sir Christopher Wray 331
Mural paintings in St. S ephen's Chapel . 332
Henry VIII 333
St. Stephen's Chapel 334
Sir Robert Hell 335
The Speaker's Courtyjml, from the south-
west 336
Procession of the Lords and Commons from
Westminster to St. Paul's . . . 337
The Speaker's Courtyard, from the sonth-
ejtst 33S
Sir Edward Coke 339
Speaker William Lenthall . . . .340
Lenthall being carried back to the Chair
by Presbyterian apprentices . . 341
Entrance from New Palace Yard to the
Speaker's Courtyard in the old Palare
Speaker Francis Rous . ... ,,.
Bust of Oliver Crnmwell ....
George Monk, Duke of Albemarle
The Parliamentary buildings and Speaker's
House .......
Sir Edward Seymour
Speaker Charles Wnlfran Cornwall
'Ihe Right Hon. Henry Pumlas, Viscount
Melville.
Water-gate, New Pal-ice Yard
William Wjudham, firs. Uaton Grenville
361,
Charles Manners Button, Viscoun* Canter-
bury
Charles Shaw Lffevre, Viscount Eversley .
John Evelyn Denison, Viscount Osaington
855,
I he Right Hon. Arthur W. Peel, Lord Peel
307,
llenry Bouverie Bran-1, Viscount Hamp-
den 358,
The Houses of Parliament, as seen from
the Victoria Tower ....
Speaker's Corridor, House of Commons
It-- House is constituted ....
Induction of the Speaker-Elect . .
St. Margaret's Church, We*tminsfer .
Swearing in members
Lower smoking-room, House of Commons
Vote Office . . . • .
Lower waiting-hall, House of Commons .
Making a House
Presentation of sheriffs at Westminster
liu-iiM'-s indicator, sni"king-rooin, House
of Commons . .
St. S ephen's Porch, OM Palace Yard
Group of Vo'e Office messengers .
Mayor and sheriffs attending at the Bar .
The "-Aye" Division Lobby .-• . • ,
A Btomge room, Vo e Office
Passage of the second Home Rule Bill
The 1'owt Office, House of Common* . . .
The Deputy Speaker's Office
" D-vishnn" : A cnriiature . ,'. J. " . '
John Helden ' ,' / '
The Speaker reprimanding an offender .," ,
David Jenkins . . . .'.,'*: :',' '•
The Sergeant-at-ArniB of the House 'of
. Commons ill-treateJ. in the City .' .'.
The Commons Corridor ....
Samuel Pepys ' ' .
Titus Oates SSif,
Colonel Wardle
Mrs. Clarke at the Bar ....
Mrs. Clarke
'Ihe Right. Hon. Spencer Perceval
Sir Francis BurdeLt
The liar of the House of Commons .
The editor and publisher of the ff lithe at
the Bar 305
St. Margaret's Church, Westminster . . 396
Porch of St. Margaret's Church, West-
minster 397
Mary Queen of Scots 393
342
3-13
341
345
34(i
347
348
349
350
353
354
499
359
360
361
8ti2
3i,3
364
365
366
3t>7
3(iS
319
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
3SO
38 1
383
3S4
885
S87
388
8S9
3*K)
391
392
393
Viii
List of Illustrations
Westminster Abr»T ..... UN)
Sir Benjomin Rndyerd .... 400
Wesluilnsur Abbey >nd 8'. Margaret's
Chim-h .......
The ItiKlit Him. Thonis* Townahend .
Intt 1 1.. t at St. Margaret • Church . .
S'atueof Ollter CniniwrU. . .
The \>n. Airhdea.-!* Wilberforce . .
. 15
401
40-.'
403
404
40'>
400
408
Tapwlry in the Painted Chaiulier . 40T
An Hit. ii. 'I Mew. showing th« alu-irnt
t»pe.tiy. at the Painted Chamtier . 40V
li. . N..».-li ....... 410
June*, fir.1 Karl SUuihu|« . . . .411
Tl.e Dilkeof Wharloli ..... 412
Tlir South >c.i llulible . . . .418
Charles, Karl .if SnndeiUnd . . .414
Thomas llatiihridiie ..... 41&
General Oglellion* ..... 4W
The Guards escorting the Government
l..(ii-ij wheel t.. lie drawn . . .417
Lord Cochrnne ...... 418
Mr. Smith 0'Brieii, M. P., In custody . 419
The Hitln II. .11. (V.il J. Rhode* . . 430
The S.nlh African Committee . . .421
Archbishop William. ..... 422
Thomas a. Beck et ...... 423
Stephen Gardiner. Bishop of Winchester . 4:'4
Turk Home ....... 4-.T,
I. .td Keeper Coventry .... 4'Jii
Francis bacon. Bitmn Verulani and Vis-
oonnt St. Albans ..... 427
John Finch. l...i .1 Finch of Fordwick . 428
Edward, Baron Littleton of Monnslow . 4C9
K.l.var.1 Hyde. Karl of Claiendon . . 430
The disgrace of |j>rd Clarendon . . . 481
Sir Orlando llridgvii an . . . .432
Anthony A-hl.-j Co.,|».r, Ant Earl of
Shaftesbnry ...... 433
lleneage Finch', I onl Nottingham . . 484
Francis North, Lord Gtlilfoid ... 484
James II. in hit Palace at Whitehall . . 485
(Jeorge, nnt Uird JeKirys .... 434
Jeffrey* recof>nised at the Red Cow Inn . 487
Jaiues II. ilioppmg the (ireat Seal into the
1 hanm ....... 488
John, Lord Homers ..... 450
Tl.oma-. Parker, Bail of Mmxlesfleld . . 440
l»rd H ii.-'in; ...... 441
Francis Atterbury, Bishop <if Rochester . 442
Sir Peter King ...... 443
< -I,:,, I,.,. |x>id Talbot ..... 444
Philip York.-, first Earl of Hardwicke . 445
Hubert, Lord Henley ..... 446
Charles Pralt, first Earl Camden . . 447
l...id'lhiploK ...... 44S
John Kcutt. Kail <if EWon .... 449
•Ihonias, flmt Banm Brskine, K.T. . . 450
John Singjctoii Coplcj . Baron I.yndharst
451,460
Henry Peter, first Baron Brongl ani and
Yaux ....... 452
Sir Edward linrteniihaw Sudden, Lord St.
I coiiard-i . . . . ' . . 458
Sir Frederi.- Thmiurr, Lord Chclmsfonl . 454
.l..hn. I ord Can.|>nell ..... 455
lli,-h:ii.l Bethel), Lord Westbury . . 45.',
The woolsack ...... 456
Sir Hugh MacCnlniimt Caims, Karl Cairns 457
Sir Roundel) Palmer, Earl of SflU.nie . 4&T
Sir Iliinlinp' liilfnrd, Kin I "f Iliilnbury . 4.'>«
Sir Vsirrar Herwhell, Lord llerschell . 45H
I ..r.I John IIU—-II ..... 450
'• We, thegieoi I. c.r Enilind!" . . . 460
Oneen Victoria's tii -t Council . . . 4K1
Williuiii Ijiinb, aeumd Viaconnt Melbourne 4ti2
Charles, secoi.d Earl Grey . . . .4133
MM
The Duke of Wellington. K.O. , . . «H
KilK.ml Stanley, fourteenth Karl of IVrhy 466
Benjamin Ut»raeli, Earl of lleaoumneld.
K.O ....... 4i -, 47», 508
l>aniel()'Conn<-ll ..... 408
gneen EliiaU-th ..t Tilbury Fort . . 4' '.>
Ibonia* lUliini;l..ii. I ..id Macaulay . 470,471
-ir II, ..... a»X...nT.ilfouid. . . . 47»
Sir Hubert Peel. Knit ...... 473
The liiuht II. .11. W. K. i.l, i.l.i, „„• 474.
H.niv J..hn lelnide, third Viscount Pal-
!,,, •!>(,, ii, K.li ...... 475
'ieorue Hamilton Gordon, fourth Earl of
AlM-nlf.-ii, K.I; ...... 476
Dumeli sflrst iiivech In the House of Com-
mons ....... 477
The oiH'tiinK of Parliament by (jueen Vic-
toii.i In 1S48 ...... 478
U:.ll.ll.i Colklfll ...... 4>0
The Hiitht Hon. John Iliiuht . . .4-1
The Itivhl Hon. Georye Canninff . . 4>'.>
lh« Hon. Charles Pelhani Villiers .
1 onl i ii-, .rue Hentinck ....
The M. .,,-.- of Commons in 1846 .
.lohii Aithui - Koebuck, M.P.
Adniii.il Illake l>efor* Tnnis
Henry Pelham, fourth Duke of Newcastle,
is ........
John, firnt Earl Itniuell, K.O. .
Sidney Herbert ......
Earl liranville ...... 490
The Houses of Parliament and We«tn innter
Hall, as Men from Parlhin.cnt Si|nare 4°1
The execution of Montrose . . . . 492
Geonre Doitftlna Cam)ibe]|, eighth Dnle
...f AivjH - .... 4PS
John, tii -t I oi.l Campbell .... •)<<:<
The Maruuii of Salmbnry . . 401,517,510
Henry Howard Molyneux, fourtli Earl of
Carnarvon ......
The House of Lords Library : T!ie Queen's
it" Mill .......
Robert Lowe, Viscount Slit-i hr.H-ke .
William PIIKC Wood, Ufiron llatheiley
Samuel Plin.aoll ......
Hilbt of Queen Victoria ....
Mr. 'Ihoiutu Hurt, M.P .....
The MOIIM- of Coiiiiiinus : A division called
Mr. John Burns, M.P .....
Tie Kifht Hon. W. E. Forster .
Sir Maucherjee M. Bhownagpree, K.C.l.E.
Chin !••- Stewart Pnruell ....
The House of Lords during the Home Ritle
delate, September dtb, 1£!>3
Charles BradlatiKh .....
Sir llalph A. Goasett .....
Charles Braill.uiiih at the liar .
l^nd Hiin,f,,l|,h S|H'iicer Chuichill
The Duke of .Mailhorouuli at Blenheim .
Mr. n.Jn.iir- r.Hiin at the House of Com*
n ons .......
The Right Hon. A. J. Balfour .
The Kiplit Hon. W. II. Sn.ilh .
Sir Stiiflord Henry Nortluote, firat Earl of
405
497
408
.'00
501
502
&4
DM
:»'.
ro;
508
.'.flit
510
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
Mr. ClianilieilHin'H room at tho House of
516
The Iti^t.t Hon. .li.-.'ph Cliamberlain
l or.l KiiHsellof Killowen ...
Sir Charles Fnxlerick Hamond, M P.
Sn William Iliii, ..,111 ....
'MR- lliirht Hon. John Morley
'I he Itiuht Hon. Sir II. ni \ H. Fowler
S,r llrtiia mill Stone, M.P .....
" Out of the WiHul " .....
The Rii-lii Hon. William St. John F.
Brodrick . . . .
511
519
. 520
. 521
K2, 525
_'-.
LOT
MM
TU Riuht Hon. Bjienow O. CaTeodUh,
eiiilith Dak* of Dnmhln. K li. . 529
Thr KiKht II, .11. li. ,l»,t II. A»|illlli . 530
I hi- Inuht II. .n. Mr Henry Campbell-
Itannrtman, (i.C. 11. . . . 6X1
The late Mir John Madura . . 6*1
Mr. George Wyndham, M.P.
Archibald Philip Primros., Aftli K-ul ..f
llosebery, K.li 5X8
1he(inu>dsulraue, Hoiwiaf Ixirds . fO4
Old Palace Yard In the eiKhtoenth century 5S5
Itiul.liniM on the eastern side of New
Palace Yard 5M
Thr lill->ard, Westminster . . . &S7
William Kymio 518
Sir Walter HaleiKh LSI!
William lj>u,l, Anl.l.i.lH.pof Csjitnlmry . 540
The famous Geor^Una, Ducheas of 1
shire Ml
The llliie Boar's Head Inn. Kinu Mi»et,
Westminster 542
The ancient precinct* of the Palace of
Westminster 543
Kirn Street Gate, Westminster . . .544
DM Star Chamber, W.-»tmiiist»r . . .'.4r,
Tablet affixed Ui umrk the (msition of the
i )ld Star Chamber . . . .'.!.'.
An eligiiNMineut of the resolution convey-
iiiK Ihe thanks of the House to the
volunteer and yeomanry cor|«, 1&03 . 546
John Pym 547
Edmund Waller 548 '
Hugh Peters 548
St.itiie of Richard Corar de Lion in Old
Pal.,,-.. Yard . . ... 549
Gilliert liurnet. Bi.hop of Salisbury . . 550
Aicade oonnectinp the House of Commons
« if h the WmtiniiiKter Siation of the
Histrict Railway 551
St. Maigarefs Church and the north tran-
sept of Westminster Abbey . . .552
Entrance to the Chapter Ilonar, West-
minster 553
The Chapter House, Westminster . . 554
Westminster Abbey, the Ctuqiter House,
etc. : A bird's-eye view .... S5S
The interior of the Chapter Ilniue, West-
minster 556
The Chapter House, Westminster, as it is
arranged to-day 657
Xew Palace Yard 558
The Oratory 559
The Cloister Court 500
Old Palace Yard Mil
Westminster Abbey, from the Jewel Tower 562
1 1, .idling the Union Jack on the Victoria
Tower 50S
Whitehall Gate
Whitehall 56S
Benjamin Franklin 666
SUiraue at the Foreign Office . . 567
Ml.. I. S Sandal* 568
Nelxon and Wellington in the waitinK-iiH.in
at the Colonial I I'llcc, Septemlx-i -
The Hon. Sir Schomberg McDonnell . . 570
Lord Snlishury's room at the V i^n ' Htire 571
Lord Salisbury's room at tl,.- l'uv\ Si.il
Ofllce 572
Room at the Foreign Oltice where the
I'll, li,, 'i (',,un, il- in- held . . . '>73
No. 10, I'owniiiLi Stteet: Tlie private _
secretary's rtxuu 574
No. in, llowniiii; Sini-t: The Conmil
Chamber 678
C-ipUun 1'. 1). Butler 576
No in. Downing Street : The " Pitt '
.linilitf-roonl 577
t<-i.l, '• SH ""•
.— In the note to the illustration on ]>. 78 "the eighteenth century" shonM Iw read for "the seventwnth."
urirr »il>i, "''//'I Jxitliwr <-i«/;wr" ; line 10, same |Kr,ft-, shollhl luwl, " .Y.<//u i*t!l-*rn-* rnl/"i.' 'I lie not* to th
Line 8, p. 103, -.hoiil.!
-,111:111 on p.
• We.ldeihniiie" »hould n-ail •• Wrdd.-ilmin.
NEW PALACE YAKD.
This is probably the oldest view extant. On the right is the old Clock Tower ; in the centre is the conduit from which flowed wine on great
occasions. The picture is from an original etching by Hollar.
INTEODUCTOEY.
TOE ancient Palace of ' Westminster. What a, host of
memories the name awakens ! How much it implies in the
history of England and the building up of the British
Empire ! In mere point of antiquity there is nothing to
compare with it amongst the great secular buildings of the
Western world. It had been a Royal residence five hundred
years before Catherine de Medicis laid the foundations of the
Tuileries and the virile brain of Philip II. of Spain conceived
the grandiose idea of the Escurial. Even the Vatican, vener-
able as are its traditions, did not come into existence until
nearly two hundred years after Edward the Confessor first
held his Court at Westminster, and it was almost double that
period before Rome became the recognised residence of the
Popes. By its side the marble glories of the ruined palaces
of the Moguls in India and the sumptuous splendours of the
Alhambra are but things of yesterday. Amid all its vicissitudes,
dynastic and national, it has, with the brief interregnum of
the Commonwealth, remained throughout the thousand years
of its existence a Royal Palace. In a legislative sense its
record is an equally remarkable one. Before the Golden Bull
of Charles was issued, and while the Hanseatic League was
yet in its infancy, it was the home of a Parliament pro-
mulgating laws and exercising a real if limited influence
over the affairs of the nation. Its position amongst legislative
centres is unique. The home of the Mother of Free Parlia-
ments, it is to the Capitol at Washington as the adult to the
little child. To write the history of the building fully is to
write in broad outline the history of England. Every great
national movement either had its origin there or was directed
from its precincts : it has been associated with every great
name in the history of the country, from the Venerable Bede
to William Ewart Gladstone, whose picturesque lying in state
1
diifval paint-
St. Stephen's
Parliament Past and Present
,
in the ancient hall of Rufus is still fresh
in public memory.
Few of those who daily pass the
stately modern building which ri>es in
its (iotliic magnificence from the river-
side quite realise what a wonderful
pedigree the place baa ; fewer still, ]M*rhaps.
u]>|ireeiate all that its hi.-tory emlwxlies.
We are not n sentimental people, and,
though we are moderately proud of our
ancient institutions, we do not gush about,
them. Yet there is scarcely a yard
of land of the five acres which form
what was the ancient Royal demesne
that has not it> story, which, when
x adequately told, thrills the least
imaginative. Pageantry and tragedy
have mingled their elements in its
history — now brightening the halls
of the Palace with music and gaiety,
now darkening its precincts with the
sombre shadows of conspiracy, or
reddening its flags with the blood
of traitors and martyrs. Kings have
been born and have died there. The
Palace has seen at once the most
despotic display of Royal authority
and the most arbitrary exercise of
the popular will. It has been the
scene of the domination of the most
bigoted form of ecclesiasticism and
the narrowest creed of Puritanism. Nowhere have so many great reputations been made in
the field of statesmanship ; in vain should we seek a quarter where so many mighty men
have fallen. The whole atmosphere of the place is redolent of sensations which .-fir the pulse
and kindle the imagination. To the British-born there is no spot on earth to equal it. It
has for him all the sanctity of a Mecca and all the glowing interest of a Paris.
As becomes this cradle of an Imperial race, its origin is enshrouded in mystery. In the
dim records of a far remote day we grope in vain for certain light. The fabled Isle of
Avallon of Arthurian romance has scarcely attached to itself a greater measure of legendarv
lore than that to be found in the early history of this little spot of English ground washed
by the rushing waters of the Thames. As Thorney Island — the Isle of Thorns — it emerges in
faint and uncertain fashion in the quaint memorials of the old Saxon chroniclers as the home
of a religious fraternity attracted thither rather by the forlornness of the situation than
because of any advantage that attached to it by reason of its proximity to the homes and
haunts of men. In loco terribili are words used to designate it in the oldest of the
documents known to exist in reference to it, and we may imagine that the phrase was not
misapplied. Dank and damp, the surface of the island only a few feet above the tideway,
f'--tering mud-banks fringing it on every side, it must have been a veritable Slough of
Despond. But its very wretchedness was its strength. The holy fervour which induced men
to establish themselves amongst the forlorn sedge-beds and thickets of the island conferred
ni'iin it a rare distinction in the eyes of the people of that superstitious age. They saw in
the spot the scene of a glorious act of renunciation — the home of a body of men thrice
THE KING S CHAMPION,
Who formerly at the Coronation Banquets rode into Westminster Hall and challenged
to mortal combat any ono denying the right of tbe King to the Cro»u.
Parliament Past and Present
I
•nil. HOUSE OF COMMONS
MACE.
Not the "Inuble" which Croni-
-1KJ orders! to be removed, hut n
later . ik..f the tin.eof Charii'.II.
l>le>-ed of (MM!. The tradition, once established, grew in strength
with the lapse of time.
Eventually in the seventh century or thereabouts there arose
out of the once deserted mud-flat a group of monastic buildings,
rude and nna>suniing no doubt, but still sufficiently im]H>-.ing to
confer additional lustre upon the settlement. These were the germs
of a settlement which, amid various vici>~itudcs. exi.-ted until the
reign of Canute, when a new inti-rr-t was conferred upon the site by
the erection of a Royal residence there. The Danish King resided a
good deal upon the island, and tradition fixes upon it as the M-ene
of the famous incident of his ordering the tide to retreat. Kut
intimate as Canute's connection with We>tmin>ter must have been,
it is with the name of his successor, Edward the Confessor, that to
nil time the chief glory of creating this great centre of English
life and tradition will be associated. The pious King, delicate in
constitution, monkish in training and moods of thought, was drawn
to this sj>ot by a thousand ties of sentiment, and by the overmastering
force of religious feeling. In his mind grew up gradually the con-
ception of erecting on the site cou-erruted by the holy fervour of
generations of religious men a noble minster which should be at
once a monument to their zeal and an abiding testimony to his
own faith. To the better superintend the work he established his
home in close proximity to the site selected for the splendid edifice
he had it in his mind to rear. What Edward's Palace was like is
purely a matter for conjecture. Most probably it was an unassuming
building in keeping with the character of the monarch and of the
simple times in which he lived. But if architecturally hvignih'cant,
it has left its mark on the pages of history.
Frail in constitution, the Confessor only lived just long enough
to witness the completion of the great work of his life. On Holy
Innocents' Day (December 28th) in 1065 he set forth from the
Palace to play a prominent part in the splendid ecclesiastical
pageant which accompanied the consecration of the Abbey. The
effort cost him his life. To quote the pathetic account which has
come down to us through Ailred, Abbot of Rievaulx, on returning
from the ceremony " he laid his head down uj>on the couch, and
began to be sorely pained. While he lay sick he forbade his
attendants to weep; and seeing his Queen mourning and wailing,
•Mourn not, my daughter,' said he, 'I shall not die but live; and
passing from the country of the dead, verily I hope to behold the
good things of the Lord in the land of the living.' So, having
commended himself wholly unto God, in the faith of Christ and the
hope of His promise, old and full of days he departed from the world."
An unpretentious structure, of which the St. Edmund's or Painted
Chamber was the main feature, situated in close proximity to the
monastery and occupying a portion of what we now know as Old
Palace Yard, was the heritage into which William the Conqueror
came on his subjugation of the country. But, poor as it was archi-
tecturally, he was quick to recognise the value of the traditions which
attached to it. Crowned in the Abbey, before the tomb of the
Confessor, he made the Palace one of his Royal residences, and is
even said to have enlarged and improved it. According to old
Parliament Past and Present
Tlii* sketch VM n:ade by Hogarth
at the fatnoufl trial of Lord Lovat in
:I-UT II. ill in M.'iich, 174T.
chroniclers, Elfric, Ablwt of Peterborough, was tried before him there, and great councils were
held there in the years 1074 and 107G. These were the beginnings of the judicial and legislative
s\>ti in which in the succeeding centuries wa< to see such wonderful fruition on the sain • >pot.
It was, however, left to the
Conqueror's son, he of the red
hair, to give to the 1'alac i
Wotminster that imposing
character which in later years
was to attract to it the notice
of men. I5y him was conceived
the magnificent idea of West-
minster Hall, a building which
is still, after the lapse of eight
centuries, without a formidable
rival in its own line. That
wonderful structure, in which
grace and elegance are in singu-
larly happy fashion combined
with majesty and strength,
stamped emphatically/ this little plot of ground on the hanks of the Thames as the home
and centre of English authority. The common people recognised in it at once a symbol of
power and a pledge of the enduring character of the order of things upon which it was
based. William Rufus's successors accepted it as a convenient and stately instrument for the
cultivation of the spirit of pageantry, which in those days was no unimportant factor in the
maintenance of the popularity of ruling princes. Thus, as the years rolled by and one Norman
King succeeded another u]K>n the throne, the Palace of Westminster grew in size and
importance; so much so, that in 1174 we find Fitzstephcn speaking of it as "an incompar-
able structure." Its development, however, was gradual, like the Constitution which was being
built up within its walls. The records are too scanty to enable us to say positively when
the various parts of the Palace were constructed, but there is every reason to believe that
nearly all the earlier Kings had a hand in the work. To Stephen is attributed the erection
of the chapel, which was destined to be the home for centuries of the English Parliament.
His successor, Henry II., was responsible for the
famous suite of apartments consisting of the
Painted Chamber, the Prince's Chamber, and a
third room known as the Parliament Chamber.
The Third Henry also added largely to the
Palace. Harsh tyrant though this monarch was,
he was a great patron of the arts, and spent
a not inappreciable portion of his resources on
the embellishment of the Royal
residence. The artistic glories of
the Painted Chamber were in large
measure due to his initiative.
These consisted of a series of
paintings representing the battles
of the Maccabees, the Seven
Brethren, St. John habited as
a pilgrim presenting a ring
to Edward the Confessor, the
canonisation of the King, and
numerous black-letter inscriptions,
LORD BROUGHAM.
A tkrtt '.11 itatore, •bowing Urongbani on the wootack.
Introductory 7
chiefly from Scripture. Admired in the Middle Ages as consummate specimens of the
decorative art of the period, it was their fate in later times to be concealed from public view
until an accident at the beginning of the last century revealed their existence. They were then
carefully examined and copied, with the happy result that we have to-day exact reproduc-
tions of pictures which are amongst the earliest, if not absolutely the earliest, examples of
oil painting executed in this country.
A great fire which devastated the Palace in the reign of Edward I. gave that King
an opportunity, which he did not miss, of connecting his name with the building. Besides
reconstructing damaged portions of the old structure, he rebuilt the chapel which was-
erected by Stephen. In Brayley and Britten's history of the Palace doubt is cast upon the
1'HE CUVl'T CllAl'ti..
One of the few renaming part* of the old Palace of Westminster. It was recently used at the baptism of onn of the
grandchildren of the Speaker.
existence of a first edifice, because the records dealing with the expenditure on the building
of the chapel say nothing of the reconstruction, but, on the contrary, speak of foundation.
But Walcott, a more modern authority, definitely asserts that a chapel was built by Stephen
in 1141 for the use of the inhabitants of the Palace, and he cites facts to show that it
was a not unimportant factor in the life of the Westminster of that day. At the hands of
Edward II. the chapel benefited but little; but to his reign is attributed the erection of the
Court of Exchequer, a famous apartment designed in the elegant style of the period, which
stood to the north-east of Westminster Hall. It was left to Edward III. to give to
St. Stephen's Chapel the ornate character which it bore until in a ruthless age it was
diverted from its sac-red purpose.
Important as Edward III.'s work at the Palace of Westminster was, it will not compare in
point of interest with that of Richard II. This King undertook an elaborate rearrangement,
8
Parliament Past and Present
SIB HOBKRT TKKI..
From & portrait by John Linnell in the National
l'"I! I lit < i.lll.'l \ .
,ORD PALMEB8TOM.
An early portrait from the 01 iuin.il in the Nation*!
Portrait (iallery.
amounting to -,i n-fi instruc-
tion, of \Ve~tmin.-ter Hall.
and In- also made exten-
shc adiiit ions to the Royal
apartments. The comple-
tion of this work saw the
Palace of Westminster in
its condition of great c-t
grandeur. Thereafter its
liisiory is little more than
a record of misfortune and
misdirected effort. In
1512, in the reign of
Henry VIII.. there was a
great fire, which destroyed
a very large portion of the
Palace. This virtually
sealed the fate of the
building as a Royal resi-
dence. Less than a hundred years later it was entirely given over to the Legislature, and the Law
Courts. Fire had then devastated much of the old Palace. Royal neglect had aggravated the
condition of what was left of the place. The subinissive House of Commons, which Queen
Klizabeth so imperiously lectured, sat in the ancient Chapel of St. Stephen, sadly degenerated from
its mediaeval splendour, but still free from the defacements introduced by Wren. The " other House ''
found a home in the old Court of Requests, a building which occupied the site of the Lesser or
White Hall of earlv Norman days. Hard by was the historic apartment known as the Painted
Chamber, which tradition assigns as the death-place of Edward the Confessor. Dilapidated as it
must have been, it probably still retained something of its old beauty, and when the two Houses
met, as they were wont to do, in conference, they must have been confronted with the exquisite
series of paintings which conferred upon the apartment its name. Westminster Hall wore then
the siime grand and impres>ive aspect which now characterises it, but the south end, instead
of being occupied with a great flight of steps leading to spacious exits, was completely closed
in. On its west side were groups of buildings, the most important of which were on the
site of the old Court of Exchequer at the north-eastern end. On the opposite side of Palace
Yard, about the Star Chamber, was another heterogeneous group of offices and residences,
inhabited rather by Royal than Parliamentary officials. There was no sort of design or form
about the Palace. It was a mere aggregation of buildings, a few of great architectural beauty
and significance, but in the main of conspicuous meanness. So the Palace continued for another
three centuries, until the great fire worked a beneficent change.
In the pages which follow, some of the remarkable incidents in the strange, eventful history
of this, fascinating spot from earliest times will be described, and the reader will he shown
how has been built up there that splendid Constitution which has been an inspiration and an
example to all the civilised nations of the world. Simultaneously, the attempt will be made
to picture the life of this home of the Mother of Parliaments at different periods, and to bring
out the interesting story of the growth of the majestic pile which has arisen on the ashes of
the old Palace of Westminster.
A very larye number of the picliirci in tlti* work are bring reproduced from phatoyrapht tpecially taken for Alcstrt.
llutcliiniun $ Co., tcho reterve all their right!. Mettri. Ilutchinton ,$• Co. detire to thank all thote icho have helped
the u<>rk by granting facilitift for the taking of photographi or gicen permiuion for the reproduction of intt-rettinj
relict or picture*; and they tipecially acknowledge the courtety of ilntrt. \Calker and Cvckertll in giving prrmiuum
for tkt \uf of their terirt »f photographi of picture! from the National Portrait Gallery.
CHAPTER I.
OLD-TIME PARLIAMENTS AND PARLIAMENT MEN.
PARLIAMENTARY institutions in one form or another have been in existence in this country from
a very early period. They are, indeed, as Blackstone says, coeval with the kingdom itself. In
Saxon times there was the Witenagemot, or assembly of the wise men of the kingdom, to
represent the nation. In the early days of the Norman Conquest, National Councils, feudal
gatherings over which the King presided as supreme overlord, dealt with State affairs.
Parliaments, in the sense in which we are concerned with the term, however, did not appear
on the national horizon until after the Great Charter had been extorted at the point of the
sword from the unwilling John. They were, in the first instance, ambulatory in character,
meeting at the convenience of the Court, now at Oxford, now Lincoln, or, again, at Windsor or
St. Albans. An official return published in 1879 gives the year 1264-5 as that in which the
first complete Parliament, embracing knights, citizens, and burgesses, met. This was summoned
by Henry III. under the coercion of his powerful nobles, who, enraged at the long-continued
misgovernment of the King, insisted upon his ratification of the rights conferred by the
Charter, by the establishment of an assembly in which the national voice should be heard.
Subsequent concessions made by the same monarch under duress laid the enduring foundations
of that structure which is at once the envy and the admiration of the civilised world.
ALFKED SUBMITTING THE LAW TO THE WITAN.
Thi.-t picture is one of a number designed to decorate the new Houses of Parliament, but was never used for that purpose.
10
Parliament Past and Present
\Tho
EDWARD I.,
i bom in the Palace of We»tmliut*r, ami who
rebuilt St. Stephen's Ch.i|«-l.
Meeting in We.-tminMer Hall, or in some convenient
chamber of the Palace, both branches of the earliest
Parliament* sat together and deliberated in common.
Tin-re is a quaint picture in exi-tence, unquoticinahlv
the earliest pictorial representation of Parliament, which
shows a sitting of the estates of the realm in the reign
of Edward I. The work is a copy of an ancient drawing
formerly in the College of Arms, London, and about the
beginning of the last century in the possession of the
Karl of Buchan. It represent.-. ;i- explained in Smith's
"Westminster," Kdward I. sitting on the throne, with
Alexander, King of Scotland, on his right on a lower
seat, and Llewellyn, Prince of Wales, on his left.
Beyond King Alexander, on a lower seat, is the Arch-
bishop of Canterbury, and below Llewellyn sits the
Archbishop of York. A woolsack figures prominently
in the centure of the picture, and on it, in front of
the throne, are four persons, who are easily distinguish-
able as the Chancellor, the two Chief Justices, and the
Baron of the Exchequer. Two other woolsack are placed
at right angles with the former, and on each of them sit
four persons, the whole no doubt composing the Judicial
Bench. Behind these persons, and with their faces towards
the throne, are two individuals, apparently clerks, standing
uncovered, with something like documents in their hands.
Behind these clerks is a cross bench, on which sit seven persons, covered, all with their faces
towards the throne. All are robed, but the right-hand man appears to be seated higher than
the rest, and has a chain around his neck. The explanation put forward by antiquaries is
that this body is the " faithful Commons," and that the individual with the chain is the
Speaker, "whose office at that time apparently was much the same as that of the now foreman
of a jury — to collect their opinions individually, and to declare the result collectively, in the
name of the whole body." To continue the description of the picture : each side of the room
contains two benches at right angles with the throne; those on the left have two bishops and
five peers on one seat. At the upper end of the front bench of these two, and on a separate
seat which stands more to the front, sits the Prince, the son of King Edward, who was after-
wards Edward II. The mitred abbots are accommodated on the other, or right, side of the
House, and with them are placed six bishops. Various attendants are introduced, such as a
nobleman, uncovered, bearing a sword, who stands behind Prince Edward, and a herald, un-
covered, who figures near the attendant noble.
This, as the most authentic representation we have of a mediseval Parliament in being, has
a remarkable interest for the constitutional student who is concerned in tracing the development
of Parliamentary institutions. A somewhat similar illustration, it may be mentioned, figures in
Fidiles' Life of Wolsey, showing the House of Lords as it was in the Cardinal's time. It is
accomiwnied by an interesting explanation by Anstis, (Jailer King at Arms. This authority
describes the cross bench containing the seven persons as a continuation of the barons' bench,
the other part of it being close to the side wall of the House aud behind the earls' bench.
The man with a chain round his neck is, in his opinion, not the Speaker, but the Prior of
St. John of Jerusalem. The Commons in this row are repre.-ented as standing at the Bar. and
not, as in the earlier picture, as an integral part of the Hi>n-e.
Strange as it may seem in our modern eyes, women were an essential ]>art of thei-e
early deliberative assemblies. We find, for example, that in the reign of Edward I. the
Abbesses of Shafte-bury, Berking, St. Mary of Winchester, and of Wilton were summoned to
11
12
Parliament Past and Present
Westminster. Again, in the reign of Edward III. a number of ladies of high birth, including
Mary, Countess of Norfolk, Alienor, Countess of Ormond, Anne Desi>encer, Countess of Pembroke,
nnd Matilda, Countess of Oxford, were required by writ to give their attendance in the
National Council Chamber. It is possible that the summoning in most cases was a more
matter of form. At all events there is evidence that a custom existed of allowing jieeressi^ t<>
be represented by proxy, and that this continued until as late as the time of Henry VI II. In
that monarch's reign a suit was brought by a Mr. Wymbish, who had married Barmi le
Talboys, to secure recognition of his right to sit in the House of Lords on behalf of his
wife. His claim was rejected on the ground that as he had no chililivn there could be
no right of representation. After this the custom of female representation by proxy fell into
disuse, and when Elizabeth mounted the throne it seems to have disappeared altogether.
As far as the general representation in these earlier Parliaments is concerned, it does not
appear to have been of a particularly inspiring kind. For many years the popular delegate
was a humble individual admitted on sufferance to the company of his betters to aid, in
spasmodic and ill-defined fashion, in ministering to the material needs of his sovereign. A
knight of the shire, with local propertied interests demanding his attention, or a bur^'.-s.
with claims of an even more urgent character upon
his time, he went unwillingly to Westminster. In
those days the roads were bad and dangerous to
travel, and there was little in town life to compensate
for the perils and expense of the journey, which was
in some cases protracted to weeks.
As for the dignity of the position which now
makes membership of the popular House so great
an object of ambition to many, it was non-ex i -tent.
The representative, especially if he sat for a town,
oftentimes excited compassion rather than envy. He
was a sort of upper servant, who had arduous and
occasionally unpleasant duties to perform, and whose
opinions were of so little account that he was only
allowed to express them by proxy. Like any other
servant, he had his wages. These varied according
to the period. In the middle of the fifteenth century
they appear to have stood at two shillings a day,
and even less, judging from an entry in the Canterbury
records.* A century later they had risen to something
like five shillings a day for each day spent either in
attendance in Parliament or in travelling to or fro
between Westminster and the borough. Where a
town wished to be particularly generous, it sometimes
brought the allowances up to as much as ten shillings
per diem. But for the most part the honour of semi-
ing a representative to Parliament was so little
appreciated that the townsmen were only too glad
of an excuse to get rid of the obligation. It is on
record that, as a special favour, Richard II., in con-
sideration of the action of the inhabitants of Colche.-ter
in fortifying their town, absolved them for five years
fl°m the obligation of sendi"g burgessps to I>;'Hi"-
ment. Ed ward III. granted a similar '-privilege" to
• "1444-8. In this vcnr the wage of John Mulling, who represented the city in Parliament, was reduced from
two shillings to twelve pence a clay."— Historical .MS., uth Report, p. 145.
Old'Time Parliaments and Parliament Men
PARLIAMENT OP EDWARD I.
Thi» curioiu and interesting picture i« probably the earliest authentic view in existence of Parliament in session. It is from an ancient picture in
the i»ossession of the Society of Antiquaries.
the county of Northumberland, out of consideration for their poverty owing to the raids of the
Scots. On like grounds Lancashire enjoyed the felicity of being unrepresented in several
Parliaments. It sometimes happened that the payment was made in kind, as in 1463, in the
case of Sir John Strange, the member for the then important seaport of Dunwich, who agreed
to take "a cade and half a barrel of herrings for his fee."
Occasionally the constituency deemed itself fortunate in finding an individual who would
'4
Parliament Past and Present
A VIEW OF THE PALACE AND ABBEY IX THE SEVI'.M T.KN'I II CIMI i:V.
The feature of this jtictnre ii the tree-embowered garden on Die river side of the Palace.
represent them at Westminster gratuitously. A case of this kind was that of Sir Robert
1 1 it d 1:1 in, Anne of Denmark's Attorney-General and Judge of the County Palatine of Ely,
who, early in the seventeenth century, undertook to serve the borough of King's Lynn
gratuitously, "in consideration of which tender care for their pecuniary resources, the
Corporation, on the occasion of his passing through the town on his way to Ely in July 1G10,
entertained him handsomely and gave him a gratuity of twenty pounds." These were indeed
halcyon days for the aspiring public man. But there was a reverse to the picture. Tin-
hiring implied constant service, and if this was not rendered — well, the paymaster could dock
the wages. That this was done is shown by the records of the Parliament of 50 Edward III.,
where note is made of the fact that the wages of the Knights of Gloucester and Oxford were
disallowed "because they neglected their work." A statute of the reign of Henry VIII.
indicates that at that later period the principle of no work no pay still obtained. This sets
forth that the law and custom of Parliament was "that no members have writs to levy their
expenses but those who staid to the end of the session, such only excepted who had licence
to depart, who should have their expenses down to the time of departure provided they
returned to the performance of their duties." This loss, adds the ordinance, " was accounted a
great disparagement, yea, punishment, in former times, making them contemptible in the
counties and cities for which they served." Marvell, who sat for Hull at the close of the
seventeenth century, was one of the last Parliamentary representatives to receive wages. The
last formal record of a payment, however, is in 1681, in the case of Thomas King, who sat
for Harwich, and instituted successful proceedings against the borough for arrears of salary a*
member.
Long before the system of payment of members was finally abandoned, a practice had
arisen of fining members for laxity of attendance; As far back as 1382 an "ordinance for
the more regular attendance in Parliament" was made, inflicting pains and penalties on
absentees. This declared that "all and singular persons and commonalities who shall henceforth
have summons of Parliament shall come as they were bound to do and had been accustomed
in ancient times"; and it went on to say "that whatsoever person who shall thenceforth have
such summons, be he Archbishop, Bishop, Abbott, Prior, Duke, Earl, Baron, Banneret t, Knight
of County, Citizen of City, Burgess of Borough, or other singular person or comnionalty
whatsoever, shall be absent or shall not come on such summons, if he cannot reasonably and
honestly have excuse towards the King, shall be amerced and otherwise punished." In the
troublous times of Mary, a body of members, thirty-seven in number, who kept away from
the House to avoid participation in the persecuting measures of the reign, were criminally
prosecuted and fined. A like fate overtook some absent repTOBentativea in the twenty-third
Old-Time Parliaments and Parliament Men 15
year of Elizabeth's reign, when fines of £20 were imposed on knights and £10 on burgesses.
Again, in Stuart days, when the great struggle between the Parliament and the King was in
progress, repeated efforts were made to keep members up to the mark. The first method
adopted to secure punctuality of attendance was a fine for absence at prayers. A shilling,
which went to the "poor-box," was the regular impost. It happened that the very day after
an order penalising absent members in this fashion had been passed (in October 1641), the
Speaker himself was late. Thereupon, according to the indefatigable D'Ewes. the first systematic
reporter of Parliamentary proceedings, " Sir H. Mildmay stood up and said to the Speaker he did
hope that hereafter he would come in time ; which made the Speaker throw down twelvepence
upon the table." D'Ewes argued ingeniously that the order was to fine " after prayers," and
that, therefore, the Speaker had not transgressed ; but " the Speaker having cast down his
shilling would not take it up again."
In 1647, according to Kush worth, more stringent measures were adopted. On October 9th
in that year, a " call of the House " was ordered, and one hundred and fifty members being
found absent, the House, after debating the subject all day, " ordered that such members as
have not appeared according to summons shall pay the sum of £20." It is not clear that the
fine was ever paid, but whether so or not, the measures adopted were not very effectual,
judging from the frequent references to the same subject in subsequent debates, and the
repeated orders of the House passed to enforce attendance. With the dawn of the eighteenth
century the system had disappeared. There had then come into Parliament the sport-loving,
pleasure-seeking, hard-drinking and swearing country gentleman of the Squire Western type,
and with his advent Parliamentary representation became fashionable. To be a member of
Parliament was to be a personality. So far from requiring to be paid for services, men
of position were only too eager to pay for the privilege. In process of time enormous
UK II.VHD ii. PASMNC; SKXTKNCI-: OF IIANISIIMENT ON THE DUKE OP HEREFORD (AFTERWARDS HENRY iv.)
AND THE EAKL MARSHAL, THE DUKE OP NORFOLK.
The episode took place in one of the apartments of the Palace, probably in the Painted Chamber.
i6
Parliament Past and Present
THE PARLIAMENT IX WHICH KICHABD II.'S RESIGNATION WAS DECLARED AXD THE DUKE OP LANCA.-ll.U
(IIKXHY IV) EECOGXISED AS KINU.
fortunes were squandered on a single election, such was the social lustre which a seat at St.
Stephen's shed upon its occupants.
In dealing with the personal aspect of the old Parliaments we have somewhat outstripped
our narrative, and it is necessary to go back a considerable period in order to resume once
more the thread. When Parliament was last seen in action it was as a single body, conducting
its deliberations oftentimes in the actual presence of the King. This system continued until as
late as the eleventh year of the reign of Edward I., when a separation was decreed, partly,
probably, for reasons of State, partly for prosaic considerations connected with the difficulty of
finding accommodation in the Palace for the increasing numbers brought together by the meetings
of Parliament, now held with a certain regularity. It was in the ancient Chapter House of the
Abbey across the way that the faithful Commons found a refuge. In this beautiful old building,
consecrated already by many great traditions, the Commons House set itself to establish an
independent position. There it continued for the best part of two centuries, making history,
and consolidating, meanwhile, the power of the people. The last sitting was held on the day
of Henry VIII. 's death. There is a curious story connected with the members' departure. This
is to the effect that on one occasion the Commons, forgetting the solemn purpose of their
assembling, became so riotous and created so great a turmoil that the Abbot waxed indignant
at the profanation, and collecting a sufficiently strong party turned the whole legislative
company out of his house and swore that the place should not again be defiled with a like
nibble. It is an amusing tale, but there is no reason to suppose it has any greater foundation
than many other picturesque fables with which the pages of history are strewn. The likeliest
explanation is that the accession of Edward VI. gave greater freedom to ministers of state,
and so paved the way for the return of the Commons to the Palace, where their presence was
desirable frotn many points of view.
CHAPTER II.
MEMORIES OF ST. STEPHEN'S— THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.
THE popular branch of the Legislature migrated from one famous building to a not less historic
one. Its new home was the Collegiate Chapel of St. Stephen, a glorious fane which, as
history clearly shows, had a foremost place amongst the great ecclesiastical edifices of the
country in decorative beauty and architectural dignity. Here it remained located for the next
three hundred years, gathering to it a wealth of tradition unsurpassed by that of any purely
secular building in the country. Looking back upon those records of three centuries, so crowded .
with events of high national importance, so strangely moving in their personal associations, it
is impossible not to regret that the name now alone remains of the historic edifice. We could
have wished to see the place where the battles of English freedom were fought — to have
surveyed the stage upon which were enacted some of the greatest dramas in the world's political
history. But if the material
substance is not there, the grace-
ful shadows of old time linger,
reminding us of the departed
glories of a spot which will ever be
sacred ground to the Englishman.
Compared with what it was
afterwards to become, the popular
chamber at this period upon which
it first entered into possession of
St. Stephen's Chapel was an in-
significant body indeed. Known
familiarly as the ^Nether House,
it acted up to its title. Just
before its removal, when the im-
perious Wolsey, acting as the
jackal for his Royal master,
bounced into the House " with his
maces, with his pillars, his pole-
axes, his crosse, his hatte, and
the great seal, too," to demand
a subsidy of a fifth part of every
man's goods — as barefaced an act
of regal spoliation as ever was
attempted — he was received by
Sir Thomas More, the Speaker,
on his knees, and an abject apology
was tendered for the silence of the
members, who were " abashed at
the sight of so noble a personage, SIU THOMAS MOKE.
Who Was able to awe the Wisest and From a ^inting afusr IJolbein, .howing the famous Speaker of the House uf Commons and
most learned men in the realm." Lord chancellor at the age of 47.
18
Parliament Past and Present
It was in a more self-reliant spirit that the Parliament of Kdward VI. addre«cd itself to
its duties, and the sanctioning of the Pook of Common Prayer will live as a splendid
monument of its courage and devotion to the public interests. Hut the growth in jiower
indicate, 1 by the |>assing of this and other beneficent legiMation was only transitory. When
in NoveinU»r 1553— the same year — the Commons r-ciit through their Speaker a ine-.-age to
lv>ueen Mary protesting against her projected union with Philip of Spain, they accepted meekly
a rebuff conveyed to them in terms intended to be discourteous. •• We have heard," said the
indignant Queen, "much from you of the incommodities which may attend our marriage we
have not heard of the commodities thereof — one of which is of some weight with us — the
commodity, namely, of our private inclination. We have not forgotten our Coronation oath.
We shall marry as God direct our choice, to His honour and our country's good." Far more
to their discredit than
shown iu jacketing
the feeble opposition
cut ing measures of the
when there was a
pockets being touched
re-establish the
a show of real spirit
lators. Then their
to their swords, arid
ominous murmurs
as well as the ability
pro]>erties, that the
back. Their attitude
ever, serves but to
light the general
acterised their
If the Commons
rods by Mary, they
scorpions by Elizabeth,
the great Queen re-
l«tience which she
conceal the encroach-
sidered them, of the
Alxmt the only touch
in her numerous
is in her reply to the
that she should take
Unlike her sister,
resent the Parliament's essay at match-making.
c uiins.u. \VOI.M:V.
The great eccleeiast antl Minister of tlie it i-n ..f 11,-nry \ III. Hi*
chief rraidvnce wan York Pluce (now Whitehall).
the pusillanimity
quietly this snub \\a~
made to the perse-
bigoted Queen. Only
pro>pe.-t of their
by a proposal to
monasteries was there
on the part of legis-
handsweiit menacingly
there were such
about the dispoMtion
to defend their own
Court prudently drew
in this instance, how-
bring into the >tronger
servility which char-
actions.
were scourged with
were whipped with
Imperious by nature.
garded with an im-
liever attempted to
inents, as she con-
popular aut horit y .
of softness to be found
speeches to the House
address of Parliament
to herself a husband.
Kli/aheth did not
"She intended." she said, "to spend her
own life for the good of her people ; and if she married she would choose a husband who
would be as careful for them as herself. If, on the contrary, she continued in her present
mind, she could not doubt that with the help of Parliament the succession might be secured,
and some fit governor might be provided, peradventuve more beneficial to the realm than
such offspring as might come of her." "Children," she added, were uncertain blessings, and
for herself "it would be enough that a marble stone should declare that a Queen having
reigned such a time, lived and died a virgin."
The graciousness of this mes>:igc uas so little maintained in subsequent communications
that the wonder will ever \ye how her Majesty brought herself to the frame of mind to meet
such HI. intrusion into her private affairs with the honeyed words she did. For the most
]>art her I'titude towards the popular chamber was that of a schoolmaster towards a body of
t. n,i ordinal dratctny by A. D. Mc(.af>u"'t.-.
AN INTRUSION UPON THE COMMONS IN THE CHAPTER HOUSE.
" The imperious Wolsey bounced into the House to demand a subsidy of a fifth of every man's goods."
19
20
Parliament Past and Present
rebellious pupils. When importuned n second time to marry, the j)eers on this occasion joining
in the petition, she replied scathingly, "she was not surprised at the (', ions; they had small
experience, and had acted like boys; but that the birds should have gone along with tin-in,
she confessed had filled her with wonder." The tine contempt for the ('ominous which the
Queen showed in this instance took a deeper note when it fell to her to dis>ohe 1'arliament
somewhat later. Enraged at the attitude of the House, she stood forward and delivered an
explosive harangue, in which in familiar parlance she gave the Commons "a hit of" her mind"
— and a considerable bit too. " I have in this assembly found such dissimulation where 1
always professed plainness, that 1 marvel thereat; yea, two faces under one hood and the Uxly
rotten, being covered with the two visors, sin-cession and liberty — which tliev determined must
be either presently granted, denied, or deferred ; iu granting whereof they had their de-ire.
and denying or deferring thereof — those things being so plaudable as, indeed, to all men they
are — they thought to work me that mischief which never foreign country could bring to pa-s.
which is the hatred of the Commons." "Henceforth," she said in conclusion, "whether I live
to see the like assembly or no, or whoever it be, yet beware how you prove your prince'.-.
jwtience as you have now done mine."
Elizabeth's bark was worse than her bite, and after this violent tirade she sent the
Commons away "with comfortable words." But that she could bite on occasion was proved
a few years later, when an attempt was made by an over-venturesome member to thwart the
imperious lady's will. The trouble arose out of the discussion of two bills resj>ecting Church
rites and ceremonies. Hearing that these were before the House, Elizabeth sent express
commands that from henceforth no bills concerning religion were to be considered without
the prior approval of the clergy. In fear and trembling at their Royal mi.-tiv->°s an^er. the
Commons sent up the measures to the Queen, humbly beseeching her Majesty "not to conceive
Sll'ius I.ATIMEB PREACHING BEFORE KIMS KDWARD VI. IX THE "PREACHING-PLACE" AT WKSTMlNs n.l:.
Memories of St. Stephen's — The Sixteenth Century 21
an ill opinion of the House if so it
were that her Majesty should not
like well of the said bills, or of the
parties that prepared them." The
anticipation of trouble was speedily
fulfilled. On the following day the
Treasurer of the Household reported
"that her Majesty seemed utterly to
mislike the first bill, and him that
brought the same into the House."
Her further will and pleasure was
that the measure should be abandoned.
Thus brought up, the Commons re-
sponded like a well-whipped hound
— the bills were promptly abandoned
But there was one man, Peter Went-
worth, who did not relish the subser-
vience of the House and the growing
insolence of the Crown. He held his
peace at the time, but when some
little while after the episode described
her Majesty sent down a message to
the House commanding them to
refrain from all further speeches or
arguments touching the business of
the Queen of Scots and the Duke
of Norfolk, upon which there had
been some debate, he as soon as
opportunity presented broke out into
decidedly unparliamentary, if not un-
constitutional language. " In this
House, which is termed a place of free speech," he remarked, " there is nothing so necessary
for the preservation of Prince and State as free speech ; and without this it is a scorn
and a mockery to call it a Parliament House, for in truth it is none but a very school
of flattery and dissimulation. Two things, Mr. Speaker, do great hurt in this place : the
one is a rumour that the Queen's Majesty liketh not such a matter — whosoever preferreth
it she will be offended with him ; or the contrary. The other is a message sometimes brought
into the House, desiring that this or that complaint should not be mentioned. He wished
such rumours and messages were buried with the father of them in hell." The House was
horrified at this rank blasphemy, and still more, no doubt, at the daring criticism of the Lord's
anointed. " Out of a reverent regard of her Majesty's honour," they stopped him from further
committing himself, and to additionally dissociate themselves from his sentiments ordered that
he "should be presently committed to the Serjeant's ward as prisoner, and so remaining should
be examined upon his said speech for the extenuating his fault therein, by a committee
consisting of all the Privy Council being of this House and other members." As a sequel to
the examination, which was conducted in the Star Chamber, Wentworth was sent to the Tower,
where he remained for a month, at the expiration of which time Her Majesty graciously sent
word to the House that he had been sufficiently punished. The obsequious Commons hardly
knew how to express themselves in words fulsome enough to show their appreciation of the
• Jiiccn's magnanimity. A harangue was delivered by the Lord Chancellor on her Majesty's
clemency and goodness, and members were exhorted to take the incident to heart, " lest that
in forgetting our duties so far, we may give just cause to our gracious Sovereign to think that
M P. NICHOLAS BACON.
Father of the illustrious Lord IJacon. Lonl Keejier in the reijBfn of Elizabeth
Remarkable in hi* later years for his corpulence. This occasioned the Queen's remark
"Sir N'ichola*'* Bool lodges well."
22
Parliament Past and Present
this her clemency hath given occa-
sion of further Iwldness, and thereby
so much grieve and provoke her,
as, contrary to her most gracious
and mild considenit ion, she be
const mined to change her natural
clemency into necessary and just
severity."
In January 1580, on the meeting
of a new Parliament, u further oppor-
t unity occurred for the House to
testify its lack of backlxme. Paul
Went worth, brother of the previous
culprit, having brought forward and
secured the passing of a motion in
favour of a day of fasting and prayer
at the Temple Church, and decreeing
that Parliamentary proceedings should
commence every day with a sermon,
Sir Christopher Hatton, the Vice-
Chamberlain, came hot-foot from the
Palace to deliver a sarcastic message
from the Queen to the effect that
" she did much admire at so great
a rashness in the House as to put
in execution such an innovation with-
out her privity and pleasure first
made known to them." The effect
of the Queen's words was electrical.
Members almost tumbled over each
other in their eagerness to support
a motion of this tenor : " That the
House should acknowledge their
offence and contempt, and humbly
crave forgiveness with a full purpose
to forliear committing the like for
the future." Degradation could
scarcely further go; but it is gratifying to know that there were still some who were not
prejwired to allow the House to be ridden over rough-shod without so much as a protest.
Peter Wentworth, undeterred by previous experience of the weight of the Queen's strong right
arm, on the assembling of Parliament, and unmoved by a fiery speech from the throne in
reprobation of "idle heads which will not stick to hazard their own estates, which will meddle
with reforming the Church and transforming the Commonwealth," presented a petition "desiring
the lords of the Upper House to join with them of the Lower, in imploring her Majesty to
entail the succession of the Crown, for which they had already prepared a bill." The defiance
was too deliberate to pass unnoticed. Swiftly the bolt descended, not only upon the daring
Wentworth, but UJKMI his seconder and two other members who had sjKjken in favour of
the measure. In durance they remained for some time. It might be supposed that by this
time the protesters had suffered enough to com hire them that the game was a dangerous
one. But there was something of the sttiblx>rnness of the Parliamentarians of a succeeding
generation in their temperament; and when another Parliament met, in 1593, the dauntless
1'eter Wentworth was found at the fore courting the Queen's displeasure by reviving the
I,>II;I;N I:I.I/.AHKTII IN I'.UM.IAMK.NT.
The chamber here represented is an ancient chamber of the Pnlace erected in the
twelfth century. The Commons are (thown crowding at tin- !>.n.
Memories of St. Stephen's — The Sixteenth Century 23
question of the succession. The usual result followed, as a matter of course. Wentworth was
soon occupying his old quarters in the Tower, and Sir Henry Bromley and two other members
who had been guilty of like indiscretions were enjoying a less exalted martyrdom in the Fleet.
A timid protest was raised in the House against these imprisonments, but nothing came of it;
and meantime another member, a Mr. Morrice, brought himself into hot water by daring to
draft two bills touching the abuses of the ecclesiastical courts. They never came formally
before the House, but the Queen got news of them, and she sent for the Speaker, with the
consequence that the unfortunate member was committed to the custody of the Chancellor of
the Exchequer— of all persons— and he was dealt with as the heinousness of his offence
demanded. Morrice was the last of the victims of Elizabeth's caprice. When a new Parliament
met her infirmities were creeping on her, and the assertive spirit which had distinguished her
relations with the popular representatives in earlier times was no longer what it was. To the
close, however, she continued to make the Commons " know their place.'' They realised that
though the rein was loose it was still firmly held.
The Parliament's abject submissiveness in the face of Elizabeth's domineering treatment
cannot be denied or wholly extenuated. Even Hatsell, its faithful servitor and admirer, is
compelled to acknowledge that a lamentable lack of spirit was shown in meeting the repeated
encroachments of the Crown. Elizabeth, on her part, we may readily believe, held the popular
representatives in wholesome contempt. Susceptible though she was to flattery, she could not
tolerate the fulsome adulation with which it was the custom of the Commons to overwhelm
her. After the defeat of the Armada, when she was addressed by the Speaker (Crooke) and
told in the customary insincere style that " the peace of the kingdom had been defended by
the mighty arm of their dread and sacred queen," Elizabeth bluntly replied, "No, but by the
mighty hand of God, Mr. Speaker." There was here the honest dislike of the strong mind
for the cringer, and almost the whole history of Elizabeth's Parliament is one of abasement
and " whispering humbleness.1' Its position of degradation is well illustrated by an incident
which occurred shortly after Elizabeth's death.
On the first day of the opening of Parliament
"the faithful Commons" crowded to the Upper
Houx'. as was their wont; but the way was
barred to them by a Yeoman of the Guard,
1'rian Tash by name, who seeing them
approaching, slarnmed the door on them with
the contemptuous words. •• (ioodmen burgesses,
you come not here." The " goodmen bur-
gesses " had to pocket their affront as best
they could ; but the time was coming when
they were to be held in very different esti-
mation. A mighty leaven was working which
was destined to bring the popular chamber
into a position of undisputed authority and
eminence.
Servile as Elizabeth's Parliaments mostly
were, they left a conspicuous mark on the
statute book of the country. The system of
poor law administration which is in operation
to-day was founded by them. To them also
belongs the honour of the initiation of the laws
relating to the maintenance of highways, the
building of bridges, and the administration of
charitable trusts. In all directions there was
steady development in the domain of domestic
WILLIAM CECIL, LORD BURGHLEY.
This quaint picture of Elizabeth's great minister is reproduced from an
engraving of a portrait in the Bodleian Gallery, Oxford.
Parliament Past and Present
government. Norwasthe
period unfruitful in
higher constitutional
achievements. Thcpowvr
of the ]>eo|>le's repre-
sentatives to control their
own affairs wa- averted
on several occasions, aiul
nut unsuccessfully ; and
tlie right of the House of
Commons to deal with
Contested eldd ion n-t urns
was al><> upheld. \Vilh
a monarch less able and
determined than Kli/u-
betli there is little douht
that the constitutional
struggle, which subse-
quently burst upon the
country, would have been
lia.-tfiied liy many years.
As it was. it was only
by packing the House
of Commons wilh her
subservient tools, and
by the exercise of arts
and artifices which she
knew so well how to
practise, that the Queen
held her own so well as
she did.
Elizabeth's con-
nection with the Palace
of Westminster, apart
from her frequent appearances upon it.s Parliamentary stage, was a very close one. She had
a jiortion of the old buildings reconstructed for her use. and occasionally lived there, holding
Court with the magnificence characteristic of her reign. In one apartment, standing upon the
site of the Old Court of Exchequer, at the north-ea>t corner of We-tmin>tcr Hall, according to
tradition, she was accustomed to divert herself with music played by musicians placed in a
gallery which occupied one end of the room. Another apartment clo>e by was used by the
Queen as a sleeping-chamber, and was identified with her name long after she had pas>ed
awav. \Ve>tmin>ter then, as A^a-'.- m^p .shows, was a widely different place to what it i*
to-dav. But it was not without its advantages fn.m the residential standpoint. The rherthen
was the great highway between the City and the We-t ; and the proximity of the Palace
(iardens to it facilitated the arrangi mints lor tiio-e water paireanls iu which the Virgin Queen
Found so much enjoyment. Taking it, all in all. the Klixabethan period of St. Stephen's wa-
one of the most interesting, as well a^ important, in the history of the Palace.
•'m$i' i) fil
mi
.KVE V1K\V OF Till: I'AI.ACi:. TAKKN IKOM AUCASS .MAI' OF WKST.M 1 XM IIU.
the paint ins;
i<i G.illn
QUEEN ELIZABETH.
The fjrcat moiurch, whose rcij^n \\ttiicsscd such a splendid advance in the power :ind prestige at the countrv. l:amous in
constitutional initials for her vigorous speeches in Pnrlkiment.
CHAPTER III.
MEMORIES OF ST. STEPHEN'S (continued)— THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.
IT was a remarkable transition from the sway of the masculine Elizabeth to that of the
pedantic, logic-chopping James. As one writer well puts it, '' it was as if the Crown had passed
not from a woman to a man, but from a man to a woman." Vanity was a marked characteristic
of both inonarchs, but there was this difference, that while Elizabeth's native shrewdness always
prevented her from allowing her weakness to militate against her personal interests or those of
the State, James was so oppressed with a sense of his individual importance that he continually
pushed matters to extremes merely to assert his personal dignity.
From the very outset of the reign there was friction between the King and Parliament.
A disputed election return, the imprisonment of a member of the House of Commons in the
Fleet for debt, in violation of the privi-
lege of Parliament, and the committal
to the Tower of Sir Christopher Pigott,
member for Bucks, for words used in
the House, each in its turn provided
material for controversy. In all these
cases James prudently abandoned his
claims when he found that they were
untenable ; and this circumstance, com-
bined with the influence of the discovery
, of the Gunpowder Plot, to which we shall
have to refer at greater length in a
subsequent chapter, tended to disarm the
Commons. Even when he a little later
ventured upon the extreme course of
levying imposts without the consent of
the Commons, there was no other action
on their part but a dignified protest,
followed by an ineffectual attempt to pass
a Bill rescinding the illegal taxation.
For years the wrangling went on, inter-
mitted by violent acts of usurpation on
the part of the King connected with the
raising of funds, and disgraceful episodes
such as the execution of Raleigh on a
charge of treason fifteen years old.
James's temper, never very sweet, com-
pletely broke down on several occasions.
After one particularly irritating struggle
with Parliament, in 1611, he wrote:
"Wherein We have misbehaved we know From the painting by Faul van Somer.
not, but . . . our fame and actions have JAMES i., AND vi. OF SCOTLAND.
been tossed like tennis balls among them, In whose reign the struggle for constitutional liberty commenced.
25 4
26
Parliament Past and Present
and all that spite and malice durst do to disgrace and inflame us hath been used. To be short,
this lower House by their Ix'haviour have perilled and annoyed our health, wounded our
reputation, emboldened all ill-nut utv<l jieojile, encroached upon many of our privileges, and
plagued our people with their delays." A few years later, maddened by the tenacious
assertion by the Commons of their privileges, James sent for them to Whitehall, and tore up
all their Hills before their faces. This insult was only a prelude to an even more dramatic-
display of contempt for the pretensions of the jiopular chamber. This was the outrage on the
Journals of the House, which is recognised by most writers as one of the great conventional
landmarks.
The incident arose out of a protracted dispute as to the arrest of a certain Sir Kdw\n
Sandys, who was committed to prison for something said in the course of a debate in the
House. The House had promptly challenged the King's right to arrest; and James, while
disclaiming that Sandys was arrested for his speech in the House, as promptly asserted liis
right "to punish any man's misdemeanours in Parliament, as well during their sitting
as after," and his intention to exercise that right when "any man's insolent behaviour'1 there
should render it necessary so to do, further passages of arms ensued; and then the llmi-e.
on December 18th, 1621.
••-itting by candlelight"
— a most unusual circum-
stance— caused to be
entered in the Journals of
the House the famous
protest. Drawn up by
Coke, Noy, Glanville, and
other well-known members
of the time, it put very
succinctly and forcibly the
rights of Parliament. It
affirms "that the liberties,
franchises, privileges, and
jurisdiction of Parliament
are the ancient and un-
doubted birthright and
inheritance of the subject-
of England ; and that the
arduous and urgent affairs
concerning the King, State
and defence of the realm,
and of the Church of
England, and of the
making and maintenance
of laws and redress of
mischiefs and grievances
which daily happen within
this realm, are proper sub-
jects and matter of counsel
and debate in Parliament,
and that, in the handling
and prosecuting of tho-e
businesses, every member
sin WAI.TKU HAI.KK;M. of the House hath, and of
«,,„, during hi. l.,lvc yMirf lni|.ri«.nment In the Tower, o.mi|m«l hi. great •• Hktory of the p(mil ..:„]. t ol](r|1f f« I.......
World." Ue wm. behfvded in Old Palace Y.r.1 in 1618. gOOflllgllt OUgllt tO ll.lU,
Memories of St. Stephen's — The Seventeenth Century 27
PARLIAMENT IN SESSION IN THE REIGN OP JAMES I.
The picture gbowg a prisoner kneeling at the bar receiving an admonition from the Speaker.
freedom of speech to propound, treat, reason and bring to conclusion the same ; that the
Commons in Pad lament have like liberty and freedom to treat of those matters in such order
as in their judgments shall seem fittest; and that every such member of the said House hath
like freedom from all impeachment, imprisonment, and molestation (other than by censure of the
House itself) for or concerning any bill, speaking, reasoning, or declaring of any matter or
matters touching the Parliament or Parliamentary business; and that if any of the said
members be complained of, and questioned for anything said or done in Parliament, the same is
to be showed to the King by the advice and assent of all the Commons assembled before the
King give credence to any private information."
This was the ever memorable declaration. It was well calculated to arouse resentment in
a monarch whose special pride it was that he was endowed with absolute powers. But James's
anger went beyond all ordinarv bounds. He dispersed the House by a compulsory adjournment,
and commanded that the Journal Book should be sent to Whitehall. Then, having torn out
the offending page, he in his turn "entered of record" an Act of Council which describes the
why and wherefore of his action : —
28
Parliament Past and Present
" WIIITKIIAI.U 30 Dff., 1621.
" His Most Excellent Majesty coming this day to the Council, the Prince his Highness,
and all the Ix>rds and others of his Majestie's I'rivy Council sitting alxuit him. :md all the
judges then in London, which were six in numlx-r. then- attending njxin his Majesty; the
Clerk of the Commons House of Parliament was called for, and commanded to produce his
Journal book, wherein was noted and entries made of most passages that were in the Commons
House of Parliament; and amongst other things there was written do\\n the Form of a Pro-
testation concerning sundry Liberties, Privileges, and Franchises of Parliament ; with which Form
of Protestation his Majesty was justly offended."
The document, goes on to give reasons which his Majesty thought fit that the Protestation
should be utterly annihilated, and concludes : —
"These things considered, his Majesty did, this present day, in full Assembly of his Council,
and in the presence of the judges, declare the said Protestation to be invalid, annulled, void
and of no effect ; and did further, manu su/'t proprid (with his own hand) take the said
WESTMINSTER HALL AND TIIK ABBEY FlloM Till: VII.LACE <>T CHAIilM;.
On the right U St. Jamn't Palace, ill the centre an old conduit, and to the left a public-homo.
Protestation out of the Journal book of the Clerk of the Commons House of Parliament ; and
commanded an Act of Council to be made thereupon, and this Act to be entered in the
Register of Council Ca>i'-."
At the House of Commons to-day the curious visitor may see in the library the jwiges of
the Journal which James mutilated. They are mute yet eloquent evidences of a singularly
small action — small in the spirit which prompted it — which has exercised a vast influence on
the course of history.
James was not content with the simple cxci>ion of the otl'ending entry. He followed his
Order in Council up by a jKimpous proclamation, in which he denounced certain "ill-tempered
spirits and evil affected and discontented persons." who, "alter daring to treat of our high
prerogatives and of sundry things that, without our special direction, were no tit subjects to
be treated of in Parliament, had per.-iiaded the rest in an unseasonable hour of the day and
a very thin House 'to conclude and enter a protestation of their liberties,' in such ambiguous
and general words as might serve for future times to invade most of our inseparable rights and
prerogatives annexed to our imperial crown ... an usurpation that the majesty of a King can
by no means endure."
Memories of St. Stephen's — The Seventeenth Century 29
SIR EDWARD COKE.
Speaker of the House of Commons in 1W>3. Mainly instrumental in
carrying the famous Petition of Right.
may have my prayers to God for you, and
procure the love of me and a happy end of
this Parliament." A little more than twelve
months after the delivery of this curious
speech "the wisest fool in Europe," as Sully
called him, died at Theobalds, in Essex.
It may be doubted whether James's
feeling for the House of Commons was really
the contemptuous one which his public acts
appear to indicate. In his heart of hearts he
probably had a wholesome respect for the
j»wer vested in the people's representatives,
even under the restrictions imposed upon
them by Royal interpretations of the Consti-
tution in his own and his predecessors reign.
Colour is given to this view by a story
related of Sir Robert Cotton, who was one of
twelve members appointed to wait upon James
;it Newmarket in 1620 with a protest against
the King's unconstitutional acts. Seeing the
deputation approaching, the King called out
in sharp tones, " Chairs ! chairs ! Here be
twal kynges comin." Another characteristic
anecdote told of him is that, mounting a
horse which usually was very quiet, but now
began to bound and prance, his Majesty
Following the course of this proclama-
tion came the arrest and the committal to
the Tower of Sir Edward Coke and Sir Robert
Philips, two of those most active in the draft-
ing of the protestation ; and the consign-
ment to various prisons of Selden, Pym, and
Mallory, three other leading protesters. A
further trio of conspirators — Sir Thomas
Crew, Sir Dudley Digges, and Sir Peter Hay-
man — were exiled. The despotic measures
taken were not without their effect. No
really serious constitutional disputes arose to
disturb James's peace from this period to
the end of the reign. So complacent did
he become under the soothing influence of
these placid days, that in meeting his last
Parliament on February 12th, 1624, we find
him speaking in a vein of exaggerated
friendliness. " I am," he said by way of pre-
face, "your own kindly King," and then,
having enlarged upon his extreme anxiety
to maintain the liberties of the House of
Commons, he proceeded to remark : '• Let
not any stir you up to law questions, debates,
quirks, tricks, and jerks, but continue your-
selves in that honest modesty, whereby vou
SIR JOHN GLANVILLE.
Speaker of the House of Commons during '' the Short
Parliament" (1640).
Parliament Past and Present
exclaimed. " The dei'l i* my saul, sirrah, an you he not quiet. I'se send yon to (lie five hundred
kind's in the House of Common-."
Varvini; estimates have been formed of .lames's character, hut there is n remarkable
agreement amongst all historians that it was his abuse of authority (|iiite as much as his son's
misgovern incut which brought about the great struggle which less than twenty years later
deluged Kngland with blood. The public mind was genuinely alarmed at the successive
encroachments of the Crown, and in this condition it was peculiarly receptive of views
antagonistic to the extreme application of doctrines enhancing the status of the sovereign.
Charles I., on his part, was unfortunately too much the son of his father in temperament
to perceive the drift of events. Instead of attempting to allay suspicion by the adoption of
a strictly moderate and un pro vocative policy, he seemed to go out of his way to raise
questions calculated to excite controversy, liarely had he been twelve months on the throne
before he was involved in a furious dispute with Parliament over their right to call in question
the actions of his favourite minister, Buckingham. This nobleman had brought himself into
hid odour by his gross mismanagement of the Cadi/ expedition, and a demand was made for
his impeachment. To this Charles replied in a message couched in a strain of haughtv
insolence; and when the Commons, in defiance of his strongly expressed views, proceeded to
draw up articles of impeachment, he promptly caused to be arrested the two members who
had been most active in the business. These were Sir John Kliot, a Coniishman of good
family and blameless life, who was destined to fall a victim to the ]x>piilar cause, and Sir
Dudley Digges, a less ardent patriot, who was ultimately won over to the Koval side. The
Commons, justly indignant at this despotic act. assembled with stern faces to consider their
course of procedure. The Speaker's call to proceed to the orders of the day was received with
angry shouts of "Sit down ! sit down !
No business till we are righted in
our liberties." An obsequious Court
functionary beseeched the House " not
to move his Majesty with trenching
on his prerogative, lest \ou bring him
out of love with Parliaments." But
members were not to be moved by/
such considerations. . "To the Bar !
to the Bar!" cried many voices, and
so the tumult continued until the
House perforce had to be adjourned.
The Peers supported the Commons
in their protest, and at the end of
eight days Charles was reluctantly
constrained to release his victims.
The episode ought to have lx>en a
lesson to the infatuated King; but,
instead of that, it only seemed to
act as an incentive to further deeds
of violence.
In all disputes he came off
second best. At length, wearied with
related rebuffs, he dissolved Parlia-
ment in indecent haste, peremptorily
saying, when asked to allow the
J/ords a longer sitting. '• No, not a
. „ . . .JOHN SI:I,I)I:N.
minute. After this came attempts
, . . A ilmtiliKUixlinl <i]>|«nrnt »l Clmrlen I '» ]<)licj-. lie wiu ninmiitlvil t.i tin' Tcm.
tO Mise taxation Without t lie authority ,,„ ,|,,. ,ii».,|ini<.n i.f ItnlUnirnt In K.W. ni.il mmiim-.l n i UK,,,,,., until 104.
Memories of St. Stephen's — The Seventeenth Century 31
THE HOUSE OF LORDS IN THE TIME OP CHARLES I.
Showing the King on the throne, with the Lords Spiritual and Temi»ral in their robes.
of Parliament, followed by the memorable protest of Hampdan and other patriots, who declined
to pay the illegal exactions, and were imprisoned as a consequence. Their detention created
a flame in the country which was not to be extinguished until the unhappy Charles had been
sent to his doom, and the last vestiges of monarchical institutions had disappeared.
It does not lie within our province to go in any detail into the events of this stormy
period in English history, so familiar to all constitutional students. Our purpose will be served
by touching upon a few of the more stirring episodes in the great struggle which occurred
within the Palace of Westminster, and for the most part under the venerable roof of St.
Stephen's Chapel. The first move in the strange, eventful drama was the summoning of the
Parliament of 1628. This body, in point of intellect not less than influence, was one of the
in»>t remarkable that had ever met at Westminster. Daniel Webster, the great American
orator, once declared that the oratory which marked it was amongst the finest he had ever read.
The compliment is not undeserved. Fragmentary as the records are, they supply examples of
eloquence, characterised bv a loftiness of sentiment, a wealth of telling illustration and a graceful
imagery such as are rarely encountered. A terrible earnestness, there can be no question,
<ravc an unwonted stimulus and elevation to the debates. " The eyes of Christendom are
upon us," said one speaker, and that was the feeling which dominated the assembly. They
were not mere delegates, registering settled decrees, but men to whom the destinies of a nation
were entrusted. The general note of the debates was sombre, as befitted the seriousness of the
times. But they were not without an occasional gleam of grim humour. One singular incident
which Isaac D'Israeli relates may be recalled in this connection. The House was one day sitting in
startled astonishment at an overbearing message received from the King, when a whimsical,
crack-brained jwlitician, Sir James Nethersole, got up and entreated leave to tell his last night's
dream. The inconsequentially of the interruption amused the House, but Nethersole replied
to the laughter by saving that " kingdoms had been saved by dreams." Allowed to proceed,
he said " he saw two good pastures ; a flock of sheep was in the one, and a bell-wether alone
Parliament Past and Present
in the other; a great ditch was between them, and a narrow bridge over the ditch." The
S|*>aker here inter|>osed with the remark that -it stood not with the gravity of the House t.i
listen to dreams"; but the House was inclined to hear him out. "The sheep would sometimes
go over to the liell-wether, or the liell-wether to the sheep. Once both met on the narrow bridge,
and the question was who should go bark, since IxitH could not go on without danger. One sheep
gave counsel that the sheep on the bridge should lie on their bellies and let the liell-wether
go over their backs." The application of this dilemma he left to the House. Kliot. Wentxvorth.
and Coke protested against the interpretation of dreams in the House, and generally jwor
Nethersole was snubbed ; but to him belongs the credit of brightening an otherwise dark
page of history.
The outcome of this Parliament was the historic Petition of Kight — an ever memorable
landmark in the fight for freedom. In this document it was demanded "that no man hereafter
be compelled to make or yield any gift. loan, benevolence, tax. or suchlike charge without
THK CI11I.DKKN OK ClIAItl.KS
Marr (afterwardi Prince** of Orange) ; Juntos Dnkeof York (afterward* JKIUM II.); Cliurlro, Prince nf Wale* (afterwards Cbarlm II.) ;
Elizabeth (died unmarried) ; Anne (died in infancy).
common consent by Act of Parliament; that none be called to answer or take such oath, or
to give attendance, or be confined or otherwise molested or disquieted concerning the same or
for refusal thereof; that no freeman in any such manner as is before mentioned be imprisoned
or detained; that your .Majesty would Ix* pleased to remove the said soldiers and marines.
and that your people may not be so burthened in time to come; that the aforesaid
commissions for proceeding by martial law may be revoked and annulled; and that hereafter
no commissions of the like nature may issue forth to any person or persons whatever, to he
executed as aforesaid, lest by colour of them any of your Majesty's subjects he destroyed or
put to death contrary to the laws and franchises of the land." After some evasions Charles
was eventually driven to accept this momentous document in the form of a hill. But
the surrender was only in form. An attempt to draw still tighter the lionds of privilege
in the matter of the tunnage and poundage dues, which Charles had established without the
assent of the Commons, broke down the barrier of restraint which he had imjiosed on
himself. Angered at the new demand sprung upon him, he put in an unexjtected appearance
From the picture palntld in 1631 by Daniel My tent,
CHAELE8 I.,
Whew arbitrary exercises of the Royal prerogative resulted in the great Civil War.
34
Parliament Past and Present
THE STAR CHAMBER.
The home of the dread tribunal which figured so prominently in the constitutional struggle
which preceded the Civil War.
at the House of Lords on June 26th, and prorogued Parliament, openly avowing that he
did so to cut short the remonstrance, to which, if it went on, he " might give a harsh
answer."
In the new session the old questions were revived with fresh vigour. With indomitable
determination Eliot and his fellow-patriots urged the illegality of the tunnage and poundage
dues. When the King found they were not to be silenced he adopted new tactics : he tried
with greater success to muzzle the Speaker, and so frustrate their aims. The occupant of the
chair of that day was Sir John Finch, a poor invertebrate creature, who was peculiarly
susceptible to such pressure as the King could put upon him. The scene in which he disclosed
the full force of the Royal influence is one of the most curious in the history of Parliament.
On March 2nd, 1629, Sir John Eliot went down to the House with a remonstrance against the
King's arbitrary acts in the matter of tunnage and poundage, but the Speaker declined to
read it. Thereupon Sir John Eliot read the document himself, and the Speaker was asked to
put the question. Finch replied that he was commanded otherwise by the King. Selden
protested against the view that the Speaker could refuse to discharge his functions ; but
Finch's answer was that "he had express command to rise as soon as he had delivered his
message." Suiting the action to the word, he prepared to leave the chair. In an instant a
dozen hands were outstretched to hold him back. The Privy Councillors present endeavoured
to free him, but Holies declared " he should sit still till it pleased them to rise " ; whereupon,
with tears in his eyes, Finch exclaimed, " I will not say I will not, but I dare not." Selden
remarked that he " ever loved his person well, yet could not choose but much blame him now —
that he, being the servant of the House, should refuse their command under any colour, and that
his obstinacy would be a precedent to posterity, if it should go unpunished. For that hereafter,
if we should meet a dishonest Speaker (and we cannot promise ourselves to the contrary), he
might, under pretence of the King's command, refuse to propose the business and indictment
of the House; he therefore wished him to proceed." Finch, however, was not to be moved.
-With weeping and supplicatory orations" he declined to do what was required of him. As
Memories of St. Stephen's — The Seventeenth Century 35
the House could not get on with the Speaker, they determined to do without him ; and
Holies, amid great cheering, read a statement which denounced as an enemy to the kingdom
any one who might introduce Popery or Arminianism, or aid in the exaction of poundage and
turmage. Charles, who was in the House of Lords at the time, hearing that the Commons
were sitting in defiance of his orders, sent word that the Sergeant-at-Arms was to leave with
the mace. Immediately the key was turned in the door of the House to prevent that
functionary from leaving. Then Charles sent the captain of the band of pensioners to force
the door; but this extreme step was rendered unnecessary by the rising of the House. Eight
days later the Parliament was dissolved, the King in his speech attributing the step to "the
undutiful and seditious carriage of the Lower House." Immediately afterwards Eliot, Selden,
Strode, Holies, and other eminent patriots were by Charles's order cast into prison. Eliot
remained in custody until his death, and Selden did not regain his liberty until four years
after his arrest.
Eleven years elapsed before another Parliament was summoned — years full of events of
the highest significance and importance. In the interregnum Charles ruled without a
Parliament, laying up for himself, by his illegal exactions, principal amongst which was the
historic Ship Money, a store of popular ill-will which was soon to overwhelm him with its
force. The new Parliament, known in history as the Short Parliament, in- contradistinction
to its famous successor,
immediately proceeded
to the discussion of the
popular grievances,
taking up the thread
where it was dropped
eleven years before.
This was the last thing
that Charles wanted, and
he therefore brought the
sittings to an abrupt
close by a dissolution
within three weeks of
the meeting. A Parlia-
ment, however, had now
become a necessity to
his existence. The ex-
chequer was empty, the
illegal imposts could no
longer be relied on to
furnish even moderate
funds ; and, meanwhile,
the Scotch invasion had
cast upon the King's
Government an onerous
burden of a kind
which it was impossible
to evade. All these
circumstances tended to
influence the King to
resort yet once more to
constitutional methods.
„,, T> l • f t. From an original drawing by A. D. McConnicl:
A SCENE I.V THE HOUSE OP LORDS.
Summoned On Stafford delivering up his sword on hia impeachment for high treason.
Parliament Past and Present
November 3rd, 1640, was the great assembly which will be known to all time as the Long
Parliament — "a Parliament which many, before that time, thought would never have had a
beginning, and afterwards that it would never have had an end." Charles viewed its meeting
with feelings of anxiety ; and well he might, for there was a spirit abroad in the country
which augured ill for its deliberations. Not many days intervened after the opening of the
Parliament before striking proof was given of the stern determination of the popular
representatives to compel retribution for |«ist wrongs and ensure guarantees for future liberty.
Its first action was to pass a bill enacting that the interval between Parliaments should
never exceed three years. Next it declared the illegality of Ship Money, and annulled the
judgment which in the interregnum had been passed against Hampden for non-payment of the
impost. The Star Chamber and other unconstitutional tribunals inimical to the liberty of
the subject, too, went
the most dramatic dis-
spirit of Parliament
against Strafford, the
the King, who had
authority stink in the
by his dragooninga
Meeting on November
Commons proceeded
question without un-
Upon the dauntless
vidious duty of taking
he announced that he
highest importance to
and moved that the
cleared of strangers,
the keys placed on the
delivered a long and
denunciation of Straf-
the impression pro-
that the House decided
ment. Forthwith the
and Pym was sent
House of Lords to
tion come to. As-
of the Peers' chamber,
members of the
From it copy of a painting by ran Dyct.
THOMAS WEXTWOBTH, EARL OP STBAFFOBD,
Minister of Charle» I., whose policy of " Thorough " brought him to
the BcaffoU.
by the board. But
play of the remorseless
was the action taken
saturnine Minister of
made the name of
nostrils of the nation
and his exact i.m-.
llth, the House of
to deal with the
necessciry ] nvface.
Pym devolved the in-
the initiative. Hising,
had a matter of tin-
lay before t he llmi-e.
House should be
the doors locked and
table. This done. In-
exciting harangue in
ford. So great \\a>
duced by his oratory
for instant impeach-
doorj were unlocked
as messenger to the
announce the resolu-
sembling at the bar
with many leading
Commons, he said :
name of the Commons
"I do here, in the
now assembled in Parliament, and in the name of all the Commons of England, accuse Thomas,
Karl of Strafford, Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, of high treason ; and they have commanded me
further to desire your lordships that he may be sequestered from Parliament and forthwith
committed to prison." Intensely dramatic in itself, the situation was made doubly impressive
by the appearance upon the scene shortly afterwards of Strafford himself. It is stated that
he entered the chamber while the Peers were deliberating upon the message delivered by
Pym. "With a proud glooming countenance" he made for his place; but the Lords intervened
and he was ordered to withdraw until he was summoned. Later he was called in and ordered
to kneel and yield himself up a prisoner to Black Rod. He essayed to speak, but the Ixirds
would not hear him; and delivering up his sword he went out of the chamber, "no man capping
to him before whom that morning the greatest of England would have stood discovered."
Charles, to his lasting dishonour, delivered up his lieutenant a sacrifice to the wolves. Strafford
was executed on May 12th, 1C 11.
From an original draieing by A. 1), JUcC'orntiek.
A MEMORABLE SCENE IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.
" Some wared their hate over their heada, and others took their sworda out of their belts, setting the lower part on the ground.'
C7
Parliament Past and Present
Meanwhile, the work of establishing barriers to withstand the encroachments of the Crown
proceeded apace. A bill was passed and received the Royal assent enacting that Parliament
should not be dissolved without the assent of the Commons. Following this came the drafting
of the Grand Remonstrance, a narrative of popular grievances and a statement of public
rights— "an appeal to the nation rather than an address to the Crown." A House worked to
the highest state of tension gathered on November 23rd to discuss the pronouncement.
Opinion was evenly divided as to the policy of some of the clauses, and so great was the
heat engendered that it seemed at one time that there might be bloodshed. Lent hall, the
Speaker, exercised a moderating influence. A little joke perpetrated on the occasion — we may
assume to calm the assembly — has become historic. In the course of the proceedings Mr.
John Digby, member for Milborne Port, came in and seated himself upon the ladder by which
members usually went up to the seats under the gallery. Observing him, the Speaker desired
him to take his place and not to sit upon the ladder " as if he were going to be hanged."
From a painting by O. Arnold, made about 1803.
A VIEW OP THE. PALACE AND ABBEY.
A comparison of tlili picture with that on i«g» 14 nil! show the great change* in the river front.
According to the narrator, sombre as was the prevailing feeling, the House was greatly amused
at this sally. The mirth, however, was transient. After the Remonstrance had been carried
at one o'clock in the morning by the small majority of but eleven votes, a motion was made
by Mr. George Palmer, a lawyer, in favour of the entering on the records of the names of
those who protested, with a view to the determination of the question whether the right to
protest existed in the House. Loud cries of " All ! All ! " burst from the benches upon which
the King's party sat. "'All! All!'" says D'Ewes, " was cried from side to side; some waved
their hats over their heads, and others took their swords in their scabbards out of their belts
and held them by the pommels in their hands, setting the lower part on the ground ; and,
if God had not prevented it, there was very great danger that mischief might have been done."
The members finally parted in peace, but it was with the feeling that the night's work was
pregnant with mighty consequences for the nation. Cromwell declared that had the Remon-
strance not been carried he would have sold out and left England the next morning.
The gulf between the King and the Commons was immeasurably widened by the passing
Memories of St. Stephen's — The Seventeenth Century 39
JOHX HAMPDEN,
The famous patriot whose resistance to payment of
Ship Money was a landmark in the constitutional
struggle preceding the Civil War.
of the Grand Remonstrance. It was becoming increas-
ingly clear that only the arbitrament of arms could settle
the issue. At this juncture Charles, with that strange
capacity for always doing the wrong thing which dis-
tinguished him throughout his reign, resolved upon the
foolish step of arresting the popular leaders. He was
doubtless largely influenced on the occasion by the
Queen, whose hatred of Parliament had become almost
a disease. Sir William Coke has left behind him a
curious account of the events of the period, which
indicates the malign part her Majesty played in this
scene of the Great Tragedy. From this it is to be
gathered that an ineffectual attempt having been made
on January 3rd to secure the arrest of one member of
the House of Lords and five of the House of Commons,
a long and warm debate ensued in the Eoyal chamber,
as the result of which Charles resolved that he would
himself demand the members the next morning. A
night's reflection, however, brought him to a sense of
the folly of the projected course. " He went to the
Queen's apartments early, and finding Lady Carlisle with her, took her Majesty into her
closet, and there having put to her all the hazards of the attempt and all its possible con-
sequences, declared that he must abandon it. Whereat the Queen, no longer able to contain
her passion, is said to have violently burst out, ' Allez, poltron ! Go pull these rogues out
by the ears, on ne me revoyez jamais ! ' ' Thus taunted, the King could but persist in his
dangerous mission. So, gathering together two
or three hundred soldiers, and attended by his
nephew Charles, the Elector Palatine, he directed
his way to Palace Yard. Warning had been
conveyed to Pym by Lady Carlisle of the pro-
jected raid, and four of the five members marked
out for vengeance — Pym, Hampden, Hazlerig,
and Holies — had been packed off by boat to the
City. The fifth, Strode, determined to remain
and face the King, but he was eventually forced
from the House by his friend, Sir Walter Earle,
just as Charles's force was entering Palace Yard.
Advancing through Westminster Hall, and leaving
his soldiers there, Charles sent word that he was
present. In response to his summons the door
was immediately opened, and, accompanied by
his nephew, he passed in, eagerly glancing as he
walked up the floor at the place where Pym
was accustomed to sit. Charles uncovered as he
entered, and the House uncovered also. Ap-
proaching the chair, the King said to Lenthall,
" By your leave, Mr. Speaker, I must borrow
your chair a little." What followed is faithfully
recorded in an account prepared by Rushworth,
the clerk, from careful notes made at the
time. " ' Gentlemen,' said the King in halting
sentences, ' I am sorry of this occasion of coming
WILLIAM LKNTHALL,
Tlie well-known Speaker of the Long Parliament, who was In
the chair when Charles I. demanded the surrender of the rive
members.
40
Parliament Past and Present
From tht picturt ty Copley.
A FAMOUS SCEXE IS THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.
Cliarle* demanding the five members— Pjm, Hampden, Huzlerig, Holies, and Strode.
unto you. Yesterday I sent a Sergeant-at-Arms upon a very important occasion to apprehend
some that by my command were accused of high treason ; whereunto I did expect obedience
and not a message. And I must declare unto you here, that albeit no King that ever was in
Kngland shall be more careful of your privileges to maintain them to the uttermost of his
power than I shall be ; yet you must know that in cases of treason, no person hath a privilege.
And, therefore, I am come to know if any of these persons that were accused are here.'
"Then casting his eyes upon all the members in the House, he said: '1 do not see any
of them : I thinke I should know them. For I must tell you, gentlemen, that so long as these
persons that are accused (for no slight crime, but for treason) are here, I cannot expect that
the House will be in the right way that I do heartily wish it. Therefore I am come to tell
you, that 1 must have them wheresoever I find them.'
"Then his Majestic said: 'Is Mr. Pym here?" to which nobody gave answer. 'Well, since
I see all my birds are flown, I do expect from you that you shall send them unto me as soon
as they return hither. But I assure you, on the word of a King, I never did intend any
force, but shall proceed against them in a legal and fair way, for I never meant any other.
And now, since I see I cannot do what I came for, I think this no unfit occasion to repeat
what I have said formerly, that whatsoever I have done in favour and to the good of my
subjects, I do mean to maintain it* "
The speech ended with a reiteration on the [>art of the King of his expectation that the
impugned members should be sent to him, and then, his eye lighting on the Speaker, he
asked him whither they had gone. Falling on his knees, Lent hall answered in these
memorable words: "I have neither eyes to see nor tongue to speak in this place but as this
House is pleased to direct me, whose servant I am here; and I humbly beg your Majesty's
pardon that I cannot give any other answer than this to what your .Majesty is pleased to
demand of me." Baffled at all point*, the King strode out of the now excited House, the
members the while crying out aloud, " so he might hear them,'' " Privilege ! Privilege ! "
Frflnt It* battilin^ /'/ ll»f .Vu/iV'»M/
P.'ilfjil (ijllrrr, itlril'HlrJ la Mart Ghrf
WILLIAM CECIL, LORD BURGHLEY.
The famous minister ol state of Queen Klizabcth, and the direct ancestor of the Marquess m Salisbury. An illustrious
st.iicsm.in. «ln> did much to build up the greatness of l:m,'l.in-l.
Memories of St. Stephen's — The Seventeenth Century 41
Repnxltical by ptr Motion nf tin Art Cnivn .- / /;,.,,• /,,,,/. j.intc of the jiictun by C. W. Cope.
THE TRAIN-BANDS LEAVE LONDON.
A fresco in the Peers' corridor depicting the setting out of the train-bands to raise the siege of Gloucester.
Thus terminated this perhaps the most moving, and in its consequences most momentous,
c|ii-'>de that ever pa^ed within the ancient walls of St. Stephen's Chapel. The accuracy
to the smallest detail of the description given of it by Rushworth is beyond question. The
Lnde&tigable clerk took copious notes during the progress of the dramatic scene, and Charles's
quick eye noting this, he sent for the report, and subsequently returned it to Rushworth with
corrections.
The natural consequences of the King's arbitrary conduct followed quickly. A wave of
indignation swept over the metropolis, which elevated the five members to the position of
popular heroes. Safely protected in that "stronghold of liberty," the City, they were feted
and caressed by the populace, while there were ominous manifestations of anger against the
King. Still Charles was unable to read the signs of the times. With phenomenal obstinacy,
he, on the morning after his abortive visit to St. Stephen's, proceeded to the City to secure
if |>ossil>le the persons of the five members. Again his intentions were frustrated by a sturdy
determination to protect the upholders of constitutional liberty. Charles, chagrined and empty-
handed, returned to Whitehall amid increasing murmurs of "Privilege! Privilege!" uttered
by the citizens who thronged the streets. Convinced at last of the fatal error that he had
committed, and apprehensive of the consequences, Charles on January 5th discreetly withdrew
i" Hampton Court, never to return to London again save as a prisoner. Meanwhile, the
Commons, through the agency of a specially appointed Committee, which sat first at the
(iuildhall and later at the Grocers' Hall, had been actively occupied in concerting measures
for effectively protecting its rights from further encroachments.
6
Parliament Past and Present
Tliis body, in conjunction with the City authorities made arrangements for the sale
return of the five members to We-tniinster to resume their Parliamentary duties. The event
took place on the morning after Charles's withdrawal, and it assumed the;aspect of a triumphal
progress. Escorted by the sheriffs and two thousand of the City trained Kinds and a vast body of
citizens, the intrepid Commoners were conducted to London Bridges where thev emharked with
their escort on boats. As the imposing fleet moved up the river it was greeted with vociferous
acclamations from the thickly lined shore. At Westminster the Speaker and leading memlx-rs
of the House received the party, while a body of four thousand Buckinghamshire yeomen massed in
the background made an imposing guard of honour. Following this came excited dehate> in
the House, with the adoption of strong measures to secure the inviolability of the Constitution.
The floodgates of passion were now widely opened, and nothing could stem the torrent. Ineffectual
efforts were made by the King's friends, who realised the temper that was abroad, to induce
him to surrender to Parliament, at least for a time, some portion of his authority, especially
over the Army. But the King was adamant. " Not for an hour," was his reply. Withdrawing
to York, he made preparations for the inevitable conflict.
For the next five years the interest was transferred from the Council Chamber to the
battlefield, where Cavalier and Roundhead fought for the mastery on each side with the tenacity
of a stubborn race. Into the details of the bloody struggle it is unnecessary to enter. The
proceedings at Westminster did not again assume a special importance until the closing period
of the war, when Presbyterians and Independents contended for domination in the National
Councils. That singular inteniecine strife was an aftermath of the war which seemed likely
at one time to rend the Parliamentary party in twain and produce consequences as disastp'u-
as those of the war itself. Cromwell's statesmanship and military genius, however, served in
the long run to give a consistency, if not a unity, to the National Councils. The methods
8T. BTKPUEH > < HAI'KI..
Exterior of the famoni home at the Hoiue uf Commoni u it appeared in the eighteenth century.
Memories of St. Stephen's— -The Seventeenth Century 43
Reproduced by ptnuiuioH of the Art L'nioti oj' London j'roiti their large plate of tlte picture by C. W. Cope.
THE DEFENCE OP BASING HOUSE.
A franco in the Peers' corridor illustrative of the memorable defence of Basing House by the Cavaliers against the Parliamentary Army.
adopted to suppress the Presbyterian party, which had secured control of the Parliamentary
machinery, were as drastic as any that Charles had ever ventured upon. By a demonstration
in force of the Parliamentary Army, in which the Independents were overwhelmingly strong,
Denzil Holies and ten other leaders of the Presbyterian party were forced to withdraw them-
selves into exile, and the Commons were compelled to pass an Act dealing with the Militia on
lines approved by the Army. A temporary reaction was caused by a counter-demonstration by
the City apprentices, who invaded the Parliamentary precincts, and by sheer physical force com-
pelled the distracted Senate to rescind their previous decisions. But the strength of Independent
influence in the Army served to rectify this. Marching to London from Hounslow Heath, the
great armed force reinstated in the chair Speaker Lenthall, who had been ejected in favour
of Mr. Harry Pelham, a Presbyterian nominee, and it by other measures asserted its power
as well as its intention to direct the course of Parliament. Yet another effort was necessary,
however, before the complete predominance of Independent views was assured. This was
the historic ejection of malcontent Presbyterians known as " Pride's Purge," so called from
the name of the colonel who directed the operation. In its flagrant disregard of all Parliamentary
dignity and right the outrage was even grosser than that which Charles had perpetrated.
Placing a regiment of horse about the House, and stationing a formidable force of foot in the
lobby and precincts, Colonel Pride took up his position in the lobby with a list of members in
his hand, and with Lord Grey by his side to aid in their identity. As the legislators passed
out a body of about a hundred and fifty of them, all of the Presbyterian persuasion, were
arrested. Included in the ranks of detenus was Mr. Prynne. This sturdy legislator did not
44
Parliament Past and Present
at nil relish the purge. He demanded " by \\lmt authority and commission, and for what cause,
they did thus violently seize on and pull him down from the House"; to which Pride replied
by pointim; to the armed soldiers standing round altout him with swords, muskets, and
matches lighted. Prynne then protested against !iis arn->t as a high lireach of the privileges
of Parliament and an affront to the House, and hi- said that .-tir he would not of his own accord.
Pride wasted no further time in argument. He pushed I'mm.- into the Queen's Court.
where already were gathered a number of prisoners. Meanwhile, the llou>e, hearing of the
occurrence, sent out the Sergeant-at-Arms to demand the release of the imprisoned members.
Pride, however, was not to be intimidated. When a second message had been brought, more
urgent than the first, he gave orders for the detention of the Bergmnt-at-Arau, ami continued
with his arrests. As soon as he had completed his full tale he sent some two-thirds of the party
* an tnff)fi< ' «re by Ceorge Cuttf,;tiote.
"PBIDE'S PCBOE."
Th« forcible expulsion of Prmhyterian members from tlie House of Commons by Colonel Pride on December Oth, 1648.
about their business with injunctions never to show their faces again at St. Stephen'^, and
relegated the remainder to prison.
Pride's audacity accomplished its piiq>o.se. It wsvs a Commons entirely amenable to tin-
Army which now addressed itself to the question of the disposal of the King. On December JJ:!rd
the thinned House commenced its deliberations on this grave issue. The appointment of a
Committee to draw up a charge and hear witnesses was followed, on January 2nd. l(>4i), by the
passing of a resolution asserting that, "by the fundamental laws of this kingdom, it is treason
in the King of England for the time being to levy war against the Parliament and King of
England," and adding an ordinance "for erecting a High Court of Justice for the trying and
judging Charles Stuart. King of England." The Lords declined to accept this ordinance;
and, though there was a feeble effort to effect a compromise, the Commons were left in the
end to conduct the impeachment alone, under circumstances which we shall describe in a later
chapter.
CHAPTER IV.
MEMORIES OF ST. STEPHEN'S (continued)— THE COMMONWEALTH.
THE death of the King left the way clear to the establishment of the Commonwealth, towards
which many of the keener spirits of the Parliamentary party had been working from the very
outset of the Civil War. Even before the disappearance of the monarchy in the tragedy of
Whitehall, the Commons had settled upon a new Great Seal of curious design. On one side was
a map of England, Ireland, and the islands of Jersey and Guernsey, with the arms of England
and Ireland. On the obverse side was a representation in bas-relief of the House of Commons
sitting, with the motto : '• In the first yeare of Freedome by God's blessing restored, 1648." Apart
from the historic importance which attaches to this relic, it is interesting as embodying one of
the earliest authentic pictures of the House of Commons in action.
No room for doubt was left as to the spirit in which the new Government was to be
conducted. Less than a week after Charles's execution — on February 6th, 1649 — the Commons
agreed to a resolution declaring that " the House of Peers in Parliament is useless, dangerous,
and ought to be abolished " ; and abolished it was — for the moment. Close upon this declaration
came a denunciation of monarchy
as a principle '' unnecessary,
burdensome, and dangerous to
the liberty, safety, and the public
interest of the people of the
nation." Legislative force was
given to these sentiments, and
it seemed that the country was
to settle down peaceably to an
era of ultra-democratic govern-
ment. But the spirit of unrest
was abroad, and for the next few
years Cromwell was engaged in
battling witli influences inimical
to the order which he had
established. At length, wearied
of the effort, and perceiving that
his safety rested in his assumption
of dictatorial powers, he decided
upon the forcible suppression of
the Long Parliament. The story
of this famous coup d'etat is in
keeping with the whole of the his-
tory of this extraordinary period.
Cromwell was engaged in a THE GREAT SEAL OF THE COMMONWEALTH,
COnSllltat ion with the principal Aa altered in ICSl, showing the House of Commons sitting.
45
Parliament Past and Present
officers of the Army and his
frit-lids at tin- Cockpit on April
2<>th. 1(55:5, when news \\as
brought I iy Colonel IngoltMiy
that the Common- were mi the
point of passing an Art fur their
di>-oliition. which they had been
di-cu-Min; fur -niir- time. Im-
mediately lie put hiniM'lf at the
hi-ud of a posse of soldi. TV. and.
marching down Kins,' Street.
proceeded t <• t In- House of
Commons. Quietly taking his
seat in his aecii-t'>nied place
without interrupting the tlehati-.
he awaited development-. Ili-
opportunity came when the
Speaker arose to put the question.
Then, doffing hi> liat. lie am-e
toaddre-sthe House. (Intwardlv
his manner was calm, hut his
speech betrayed the extreme
irritation lie felt. According i"
Ludlow, he overwhelmed tin-
House "with the vilest n-
]iroaehes. charging them net t"
h-ive a heart to do anything for
the puhlic good; to have espoused
the corrupt interest of Pre-1 >\ter\
and the lawyers, who were tin-
supporters of tyranny and oppres-
sion; accusing them of an intention to perpetuate themselves in power, had they not been forced
to the passing of this Act (the Act for the dissolution), which he affirmed they designed never
to observe; and thereujxin told them that the I^ord had done with them, and had chosen other
instruments for the carrying on of His work that were more worthy." A pause in his torrent
of invective brought Sir Peter Went worth to his feet with a reply couched in defiant laneiia^e.
He told Cromwell that "this was the h'rst time he had ever heard such unbecoming language
U'iven to the Parliament, and that it was the more horrid in that it came from their servant.
and their servant whom they had so highly trusted and obliged." He would have said more;
but the (ieneral. stepping into the middle of the House, cried out: "Come! come! 1 will put
an end to your prating." Then, "walking up and down the House like a madman and kicking
the ground with his feet, he shouted, 'You are no Parliament: I say you an- no Parliament ;
I will put an end to the sitting. Call them in ! call them in ! ' A file of soldiers entered, and
the fifty-three members of which the House was composed were driven out. with word- of
obloquy addressed to them individually by Cromwell. Turning then to the table and taking
up the mace, he said. 'What shall we do with this bauble? Here.' he added. addre>sing one
of the soldiers, 'take it away.''' "After he had thus brought all into disorder." savs Ludlow.
"Major-General Harrison went to the Speaker (Lenthall) as he sat in the chair, and told him
that, seeing things were reduced to this ]«iss, it would not be convenient for him to remain
there. The Speaker answered that he would not come down unless he were forced. 'Sir.' -aid
Harrison, 'I will lend you my hand'; and thereupon, putting his hand within his. the Speaker
came down." Cromwell finally, after sei/ing the records and snatching up the Act of Dissolution
OLIVr.lt CKd.MWKLL.
One of tlie but portrait! extant of the Lord Protector. It represent* him at the «ge of
fifty-eight, a year before his death.
47
Parliament Past and Present
that was ready to pass, put the document- under his clunk. commanded the doors of flu- House
to be locked, and stalked out on his n-tuni to Whitehall. Tin- next day some wag jdi.-ted on
the locked door a pajM-r with tlie inscription. "This house to be let, now unfurnished."
Exciting as the incident mu~: have lieen — thrilling in its intensit v — Scolx-ll. the clerk,
found it possible to indite a record of tlie proceedings in the Journal. He wrote: "201 h April,
1653. — This day his Kxcellency the Lord (ieneral dissolved this Parliament." The faithful
official's devotion to duty nearly cost him dear. Six years later, when the whirligig of time
had brought by its revolutions the discredited Hump back to place, if not (() power, he \\a-
haled to the Bar and called upon to explain how he came to put his pen to so gro» a tid>e-
hood as that the Parliament had been dissolved. Scoliell. with deep contrition, acknowledged
his fault; but the offence wa- regarded as too grave to be lightly diMni»ed. and a Committee
of Inquiry was appointed to consider what should be done with the over-conscientious clerk.
Distasteful as Parliaments had become to Cromwell, he. like his Royal predeee--or. found
it impossible to get on without them. After remaining locked for ten weeks, the doors ..|
St. Stephen's Chapel were thrown open to accommodate an assembly of Cromwell's own
selection, which is known in history as ''the Little Parliament." or by the sobriquet givci,
it by loyalists, by reason of the quaint patronymic of one of its fanatical members. •• the Praise-
God Barebones Parliament." Soon the extravagances of this curiously assorted body gave the
General reason to repent his action in bringing it into exigence. Property, religion, law— all
came within the range of its levelling and subversive decrees. Tithes were pronounced to be
an institution which the Gospel had swept away, marriage was treated as purely a civil
contract, and the Court of Chancery \\a-
declared "a mystery of wickedne-- and a
standing cheat." and abolished. At la-i a
crisis was precipitated by the Parliament's
meddlesome interference with the ark of tin1
Covenant— the Army. The dispute led to tin-
voluntary surrender by the Parliament of their
powers into Cromwell's hands on December
12th, 1653, at Whitehall. With a show of
reluctance Cromwell accepted the .surrendered
trust; but as only four days later he allowed
himself to be installed with much pomp a>
Lord Protector in Wot minster Hall, the
absolute sincerity of his display of regret i>
open to considerable doubt.
In accordance with the terms of "the
Instrument " which gave the colour of legality
to his government, a Parliament was summoned
to meet at We.-tmin>ter on September :ird.
1654. The assembly was opened in due form,
a speech from the Protector delivered in tin-
Painted Chamlx-r taking the place of the
customary speech from the throne. In tin's
Cromwell spoke of the occasion as the great e-t
that Kngland had ever seen, for to the Parlia-
ment were entrusted the dotinies of three
nations with the territories Ix-longing to them.
He concluded with the expression of a hope
that the new House would put the finishing
HENRIETTA MARIA, stone on the national fabric. The Protector's
c«iaortofCbartei.aiidnioth«tof chnrie«it.andJame«ii. ardr-nt aspirations were very far from being
Memories of St. Stephen's — The Commonwealth 49
/t /s an Ou/c
" THIS HOUSE 13 TO LET.
A contemporary satirical print descriptive of Cromwell's expulsion of the members from the House of Commons.
realised. Such were the tendencies of the Parliament that he was glad to be rid of it five
months after its assembly. Another interregnum ensued, and then a fresh trial of constitutional
methods was made in order the more effectively to carry on the war proceeding at the time witii
Spain. The new Parliament, which met on September 17th, was subjected to a careful pre-
liminary process of sifting. In this way a body more to the taste of the Protector was secured.
So completely, indeed, was it in sympathy with him, that after it had been sitting for a short time
it decided, to approach him with a proposal that he should assume the title of King. Cromwell,
when the new scheme of government was first presented to him, gave an indecisive answer.
A further representation from the Commons elicited from him, on May 8th, 1657, a final
refusal. " His Highness," however, though not a King in name, became one in fact. Widely
extended powers were conferred upon him under a scheme that Parliament had drawn up, and
on June 26th, robed in purple and ermine, and with all the great officers of State about him,
he took the oath of fealty to the new order. The creation of a House of Peers followed.
"This," says Macaulav, "was the least happy of his contrivances, and displeased all parties.
The Levellers were angry with him for creating a privileged class. The multitude, who felt
ii'>].cct and fondness for the great historical names of the land, laughed without restraint at
a House of Lords in which lucky draymen and shoemakers were seated, to which few of the
old nobles were invited, and from which almost all those old nobles who were invited turned
disdainfully away. . . . His second House of Commons, though it recognised him as Protector,
and would gladly have made him King, obstinately refused to acknowledge his new Lords. He
had no course left but to dissolve the Parliament. 'God,' he exclaimed at parting, 'be
judge between you and me.'"
With the close of this Parliament terminated Cromwell's essays in constitutional govern-
ment. During the remaining short period of his life he ruled, as he was well able to do,
without any other aid than that of his friendly advisers. The accession of his son Richard
Parliament Past and Present
li:j>r<*iuadl,ypt>i*iuioiiof Hit Art I'nion of London fivm Uittr largt plate of thi pictun 6y S. It. "
GGNEBAL MONK DECLARES FOB A FREE PARLIAMENT.
A fresco in the Commons' corridor showing Monk signing the declaration which paved the way for Charles II. 'i return.
brought a new Parliament, elected on a wide franchise and invested with all the old powers,
into existence. Its reign was short-lived. Assembling on January 27th, 1659, it met with
a violent end on October 13th following. On that day, Major-General I^ainbert, the clnVi of
the malcontent military party, by force majeure suppressed the sittings. His plan was \ery
simple — simpler even than that of Cromwell. Stationing his forces about the Palace, he
barred the approaches to the Parliament House to members. "Do you not know me '• "
said SjH-aker Lent hall to one of the guards who stopped his coach. "If you had been
witli us at Wilmington Bridge." responded the soldier, "we should have known you." Hut
St. Stephen's Chapel was not to remain long untenanted. On December 26th the Hump
of the old Long Parliament was called together. It was a sorry apology for the popular
a>sembly. I/entliall was again in the chair, lending what weight he might to its deliberations ;
but many of its most influential members held aloof, and those who attended lacked the
cohesheness which is essential to the authority of an assembly of the kind. As a convenient
stopgap it, however, played a not inconsiderable part in the preliminary arrangements for the
Ue>i oration which followed u] on -Monk's declaration in favour of a Free Parliament; and when
it expired by its own act, on April 25th, 1600, it did so in a certain odour of sanctity.
The Long Parliament will live as the most protracted and stirring in the whole course
of English hi-tory. It existed in one form or another for nearly twenty yeai>. the period covering
the whole range of the tremendous struggle between Crown and people. \Yhate\er may !»•
thought of Mime of its actions, it will alwavs doerve the respect and veneration of KiiLjli-hmcii
as the instrument by which their constitutional liberties were won and the principles of government
otal-li.-hed on an enduring foundation.
CHAPTER V.
MEMORIES OF ST. STEPHEN'S (continued}— THE RESTORATION AND THE
REVOLUTION OF 1688.
WITH the final disappearance of the Long Parliament terminates the period of absorbing
and continuous dramatic interest in the Parliamentary history of the seventeenth century.
An era was now entered upon which, though accompanied by some exciting episodes, was
comparatively devoid of interest from a constitutional point of view. The Convention Parlia-
ment, which seated Charles II. on the throne, has a special importance of its own, which may
be noted. This body assembled about a month before the King's return, the Lords by virtue
of their own authority, and the Commons in pursuance of writs issued in the name of the
keepers of the liberty of England, by authority of Parliament. " The said Parliament," observes
Blackstone in his ': Commentaries," " sat till December 29th, full seven months after the
Restoration, and enacted many laws, several of which are still in force. But this was for the
necessity of the King, which supersedes all law ; for if they had not so met it was morally
impossible that the kingdom should have been settled in peace. And the first thing done after
the King's return was to pass an Act declaring
this to be a good Parliament notwithstanding
the defect of the King's writs. It was at that
time a great doubt among lawyers whether even
this healing Act made it a good Parliament,
and held by very many in the negative, though
it seems to have been too nice a scruple. And
yet, out of abundant caution, it was thought
necessary to confirm its Acts in the next Par-
liament, by Statute 13 Car. II., c. 7 and c. 14."
Charles II.'s first Parliament was in other
and less reputable ways quite as great a
constitutional curiosity as the Convention
Parliament. It lasted from May 8th, 1661, to
January 24th, 1679 ; and from the long period
of its existence — eighteen years — was known as
the Long Parliament, until that designation was
allotted to the assembly of the Great Rebellion,
to which it more properly applied. The name
by which it is now recognised in history is the
IViiHoiiary Parliament— a term of opprobrium
which has reference to the venality of its
members, many of whom accepted allowances —
I M -11 -ions — not only from the King, but, what
\va> a lower depth of infamy, from the King of
France. Charles was in the habit of attending
tin- debates in the Peers' chamber during this
Parliament. He said that he found them as
good as a play, and probably he did, for he so
51
BULSTEODE WHITELOCK,
A famous member of the Long Parliament and an active supporter
of the Commonwealth.
Parliament Past and Present
AXDl!i:\V .MAUVr.I.I..
The poet, who, u member for Hull, was one of the last recipient*
• if wagt. f»r Mrvicea in Parliament, lie was a ttnriiy opponent
of the Court iwrtjr in the reign of Charle* II.
contrived it lliat then- should be no lack of
animation. Hishop liurnet states that- at lir-t
ho sut decently on tin- throne. l>ut becoming
\\earied of tin- restraint lie would leave his seat
ami stand by the lire, an art ion which drew a
crowd altoiit him that broke all the decency of
tin- Mouse. The familiarity of the King with
1'arliainent engendered. a~ it was calculated to do,
conteni]it. This quality peeped mil in manv
ways, hut nn«-t <-ons|.iciioiisly in his aiidaci,,ii-
•• fooling" of the asseinlily, as old Pepys calls it.
in KiliT.
Summoned to meet on July 2.")th, the mo-t
awkward period of the year for men whose ind ,
were almost purely agricultural, memhers tro.'ped
to Westminster in expectation of having important
liiisiness to transact. I'.ut when the King fomul
that thev were intent on exploiting grievances
they had against him, on the pi. -a of being pre-
vented from attending by important business. In-
directed them to adjourn for four days.
On the reassembling of the Houses at the
time appointed, greatly to their astonishment "tin-
King, having made a very short and no plea-ing
speech, told them that he did think he
should have had occasion for them, but had
none, and therefore did dismiss them to look
after their own occasions until October."
'•Thus," adds the diarist, -they are dismissed
again to their general great dislike (I believe
the greatest that ever Parliament was) to see
themselves so fooled, and the nation in certain
condition of ruin, while the King, they see,
is only governed by his Court and women
and rogues about him."
Parliament appears to have submitted
meekly to this high-handed treatment, but
there were some who were not prepared to
condone the King's follies, public and personal.
One of these was Sir John Coventry, who
had the courage to stand up in the House
and denounce the immoralities of the King,
and at the same time to oppose the lavish
grants of money by which his infamies were
supi>orted. This double offence brought down
upon him the anger of the King, who decided
uiHJii a characteristically brutal revenge. "The
.Merry Monarch." according to liurnet, ''sent
some of his guards to watch in the street
where Sir John lodged, to leave a mark on
him." The bravoes "went thither, and as
From UK pninting by Si, '
vii.i.n:i:s. SI:CIIM> IHKI: or nrcKisiiilAM,
Courtier and comiuuiion of Cliai le» 1 1.
" A man *o rariotu that he Mem'd to 1>e
Not one, but all mankind'* cj.ii
From an original dralring by A. If.
THE ATTACK ON SIB JOHN COVENTRY,
Made at the instigation of Charles 1 1. in revenge for a speech delivered in the House of Commons.
53
54
Parliament Past and Present
Slit JOHX COVENTRY,
A conspicuous member of Charles II.' g Parliaments.
Coventry was idling home they drew about
him. lit- Mood ii]> to tin- wall, and drew tin'
flambeau out of his M-rvanl's hand, and with
it in tin' oni' hand and his sword in the other.
he defended himself so well that hi- got more
rredit liy it than by all the actions of his life.
He wounded some of them, but was disarmed,
and then they cut his no-e to the bone.
aff.iir was managed under the orders of the
Duke of .Monnioiith. to who>e house the ruffians
repaired after performing their task." A bill
decreeing the banishment of the perpetrators
of the outrage was passed, but of eom>e the
instigators of the vile biisine— e-eaped un-
punished.
In keeping with the character of this
outrage outside the House was a violent >cene
which occurred within the House of Commons
on May Kith, 1675. The episode arose out
of some confusion as to the result of a motion
in Committee of Supply respecting the English
regiments in the French army, which \\a- a
burning topic of that day. The tellers on
reaching the table differed in their reports
as to the figures. Thereupon there wen-
shouts of "Tell again." with opposing shouts of '-Keport." Tremendous disorder enxied :
leading members jumped upon the table, and their followers crowded about them with gestures
and loud cries of defiance. There was a particularly violent altercation between Lord Cavendish
and Sir John Hanmer. It was alleged by some that the feeling between the two ran so
high that the former spat in the latter's face. While there is some doubt as to this, it is an
indisputable fact that there was something very near a free fight. When the tumult had
continued about half an hour, the Speaker, who of course was not presiding at the time.
entered of his own accord, and making his way at a slow pace up the floor, took the chair.
His presence and influence had the effect of restoring order; members gradually resumed their
Beats, and a little .later those most prominent in the fracas were induced to get up in their
places and declare that they would not allow their rc.-entment at what had passed to be
carried outside the chamber.
Corrupt and venal as this Parliament was at one period, it eventually became a sharp
thorn in Charles's side. It set itself steadily to oppose the pretensions of the Crown, and took
up a strong line on ecclesiastical questions antagonistic to that held by the King. Y\ hat
was, perhaps, an even greater sin in Charles's eves, it maintained a tight hold on the ptme-gtringa.
In 1G77 the relations between the King and Commons were particularly strained. The quarrel
was over the King's foreign alliances, which Parliament, not without reason, regarded with grave
suspicion. Charles, furious at the representations of the Commons on the subject, decided to
dissolve Parliament. When, on May liSth. the decision was announced, there was ;m extraordinary
scene in the popular chamber. The Speaker, having adjourned the House to July 16th. without
naming place or hour, suddenly left the chair. There were cries that he should come back, and
an unseemly struggle took place for the possession of the mace; but the Speaker'- party \\ere
too powerful, and he got away in regular form with the mace borne before him, followed, howe\n.
by reproachful cries. The Parliament lingered on for some little time after this, a constant and
growing source of irritation to the King. Its activities were finally cut short by its dissolution on
January 21th. Ki7i).
55
Parliament Past and Present
SIH JOHN TREVOR,
The " corrupt Sjwiker," expelled from the ch.iir for accept-
ing a bribe.
Charles's Inter Parliaments arc remarkable fur
tin- adoption of the terms Whig and Tory as dis-
tinct ive party names. Maeaulay. \\lio gives 1079 as
the year in which the nieknaine- \\ere tirst used.
ii"U-s as a curious circum-tance tliat one of them
has a Scotch and the other an Irish origin. "I'oth
in Scotland and in Ireland misgovernment had called
into exigence bauds of desperate Inell. whose ferocit V
was heightened 1^ religions enthaautHn. In Scotland
some of the persecuted Covenanters, driven mad bv
o])]iression. had lately nuirdered the I'riinate. had
taken up arms against the ( ioverninent. had ohtained
some advantage- against tin- King's forces, and had
not been put down until .Monmotith. at the head of
some troops from Kn gland, had routed them at
1'othwell 1'ridge. These xealots were nio>t numerous
amongst the rustic-; of the Western lowlands, who
were vulgarly called Whigs. Thus the appellation
of Whig Wit* fastened on the Presbyterian x.ealots
of Scotland, and was transfei-rcd to those Knglish
politicians who showed a disposition to oppose the
Court and to treat Protestant Nonconformists with
indulgence. The bogs of Ireland at the same time afforded a refuge to Popish outlaws, much
resembling those who were afterwards known as Whitelioys. These men were then called
Tories. The name of Tory was therefore given to Englishmen who refused to concur in
excluding a Roman Catholic from the throne."
It is to the party system thus organised that may be attributed the strong >tand made
in James II. 's reign against the infractions of the popular liberties, and the bloodies- Revolution
of 1688. This great movement, which firmly seated a new dynasty on the throne, required
the creation of a second Convention Parliament, Hrought into existence as the result of a
conference of peers held at the City (iuildhall immediately after James's ignominious flight,
this assembly met at Westminster on January 22nd. 1(JS<). and sat with the usual form> of
a Parliament, minus, of course, a Royal speech. It settled the- | reliminaries for the new reign
and for the immediate carrying on of the government, and then passed on to the consideration
of the Declaration of Rights — that great charter on which the modern government of this
country is ha-ed. The Declaration was agreed to with praiseworthy celerity, and its terms
were subsequently embodied in a measure known as the Hill of Rights. The last act in tin-
drama was the formal ottering of the Crown to William and Mary in the Hanijiu t ing ||,,u-,-
Whitehall (now the United Service Museum, on February llSlh, 1689. The Convention
Assembly's work did not end with this historic event. A week later it formally declared itself
a Parliament, and as such transacted business until January 27th, 1690, when it was dissolved.
The Parliamentary history of the remaining years of the seventeenth century contains
little that is of special importance from our standpoint. The one incident of dramatic inteie-t
was the ejection of Sir John Trevor, the Speaker, from the chair for corruption. This shameful
business we .shall leave for treatment to a subsequent chapter. Meanwhile.it will be sufficient
to say that it .supplies a not unfitting finale to an era in Parliamentary government in which
venality was a recognised principle of administration, and in which the honour of the Crown
itself was involved by sordid relations with foreign powers.
CHAPTER VI.
THE SPEAKER AS HOST— PARLIAMENTARY COSTUME.
IT may not be unprofitable or without interest, before taking up the thread of our narrative,
to step outside the strenuous political arena at St. Stephen's to examine some of the lighter
phases of Parliamentary life. \Ye have seen how the old-time Parliament man comported
himself on the public stage in times of stress and peril. Let us now endeavour to discover
what were his habits and actions when away from the blaze of the footlights.
At the head of the social as well as the
political system of the House of Commons is
the Speaker. He occupies the position not
only by virtue of his office, but by the force
of the sanction which is given by the arrange-
ments made by Parliament for his convenience
and comfort. A superb suite of sumptuously
furnished rooms forms the official residence
of the Speaker. The oak panellings, the
carved stonework, and the mullions and
tracery of the Gothic windows, all accord
cidmirably with the traditions which cluster
around the Chair. One feels, in passing
through these ornate apartments, that they
embody something of the spirit of respect
and almost of reverence which the British
people feel for the president of the popular
chamber. Nor is the sentiment without
justification. To receive an invitation to a
Speaker's reception is a cherished ambition
of every young member. The appearance
of that member's name in the dinner list
gives him a cachet at Westminster which
hardly anything else of the kind could confer.
Full social recognition, in fact, is to the budding
legislator what presentation at Court is to
the aspiring young damsel.
The dinners themselves are no ordinary
functions. As everything is done by rule in
the House of Commons, so are there im-
mutable regulations, sumptuary and other-
wise, for these entertainments. Uniform or
Court dress is indispensable. Many and
THE STATE BED is THE SPEAKERS HOUSE, ingenious liave been the attempts to escape
the operation of the rule ; but never with
Which a Royal guert wonld probably occupy if he wished to sleep at tte '
raiace or w»tmin.ter a. G«orge iv. did the night before hi. coronation. success. 1 he only relaxation which has been
57 8
Parliament Past and Present
mode, at all events in recent years, was
during the short Parliament of 1885,
when, as there were a dozen Ijibour
members in the House, and they were
sufficient of themselves to form a dinner
party, the late Speaker (Ix>rd Peel),
witli characteristic kindness of heart,
invited them in a body to dine with
him, and to wear whatever costume
they pleased. But this was quite an
informal gathering, and does not
properly enter into the. account. As
a rule, it must be confessed, the re-
strictive stipulations have not proved
an insuperable bar to the enjoyment
of the Speaker's hospitality, even on
the part of the most pronounced
Democrats. The tradition still lingers
in Parliamentary circles of how the late
Mr. Biggar figured at one of Mr. Peel's
dinner parties in ivll the glory of Court
raiment, and of how, after faring
sumptuously and exchanging confi-
dences with some of the most distin-
guished guests, he threw a cloak
around his spare form and, marching
over Westminster Bridge, mounted a
tram car and so proceeded to his humble
home at Clapharn. Though in essence
formal functions, the dinners are by no
means dull. There is only one toast —
'•The King" — and there is plenty of
time for conversation. When the guests
are well matched, as they invariably are, thanks to the tact of the Speaker's secretaryj'the talk
is interesting, and the friendly interchange of views which there takes plac&^ic is not too
much to say, has laid the foundations of many strong friendships.
The origin of the Speaker's dinners and receptions affords an interesting subject of
speculation. Probably they do not date much beyond the end of the eighteenth century, when
Mr. Addington (afterwards Lord Sidmouth) had a set of apartments, including the Cry] it Chapel.
placed at his disposal for residential purposes. There was, no doubt, a Speaker's re>iden<e
before that time, but it could not have lieen large, and any entertaining done in it mu>t have
been on a modest scale. However that may lie. it is not until we get almost to the dawn of
the last century that we find any record of the formal hospitality now so common. One
of the earliest authentic records of it is contained in a tiny little book in the po»e-Mon of
Lord Peel, which escaped the fate of so many of the less important archives of the House on
the occasion of the fire. This volume, no bigger than a housekeeper's account-book and quite
as unpretentious in appearance, sets forth in faded characters those who dined at the SpeakeiV
table in the year 1800. The dinners then were held weekly, usually on Saturday but occasionally
on Sunday, at what we should deem the unearthly hour of half-past 1i\e the present hour i>
eight); and, as we state elsewhere, the trysting-place was the Crypt Chapel, or rather a portion
of it divided from the rest for dining purposes. Here, according to the record, all the great
men who then assisted in the making of English history assembled repeatedly during the
SPKAKKIt ADDIXGTOX (AFTEKWAKIIS I.dllll SinMOfTIl).
During \vbote tenu of office the Speaker's residence wan greatly en I
The Speaker as Host — Parliamentary Costume
59
session. On the very first page are the names of Pitt, Dundas, and Grenville as diners on
February 1 st ; and turning overleaf we find that the guests on the following Saturday included
Fox, Sheridan, Lord John Russell, Coke, and Erskine. Another party a week or two later
brought Pitt, Lord Castlereagh, Dundas, Pelham, and Addington together ; and diving at random
into the pages we find such familiar names as Palmerston, Whitbread, Windham, \Vilberforce,
and Townshend frequently occurring. Those long past dinner parties, we may imagine, were
no sedate formal gatherings. With two such convives at the board as Sheridan and Fox, the
talk must have drifted into familiar channels, and as the bottle circulated so no doubt also did
the good stories.
Lord Colchester has left us in his Diary a full and entertaining account of a Speaker's
dinner which he attended about that period — to be precise, on February 2nd, 1796. On the
occasion twenty sat down to dinner " in a vaulted room under the House of Commons, looking
towards the river." The guests were served on plate bearing the King's arms by "three
gentlemen out of livery and four men in full liveries and bags." All the party wore full dress.
" The style of the dinner was soup at the top and bottom, changed for fish, and afterwards changed
for roast saddle of mutton and roast loin of veal. The middle of the table was filled with a
painted plateau, ornamented with French white figures and vases of flowers. Along each side
were five dishes, the middle centres being a ham and boiled chicken. The centre course
had a pig at top, a capon at bottom, and the two centre middles were turkey and a larded
guinea fowl. The other dishes were puddings, pies, puffs, blancmanges, etc. The wine at the
corners was in ice pails during the dinner — Burgundy, Champagne, Hock, and Hermitage."
Lord Colchester adds that only one toast was given — "The King" — and that the company after
partaking of coffee and tea broke up at nine o'clock.
From this description it may be gathered that, excepting in a gastronomic sense, the
functions have not greatly changed in the course of the century that has elapsed since the above
entry was written. It would, perhaps, be strange if they had, for he would be a bold Speaker
who would dare to introduce any striking innovations in social customs, which, though based
on no written authority, are as sacred as the procedure of the House.
A chapter dealing with the hospitality dispensed by the official head of the popular branch
of the legislature affords an appropriate opening for a reference to the by no means uninteresting
question of the dress and equipment of members. Costume plays, and it has ever played, an
important part in the life of Parliament. If we regard the term in its wider sense, we find
that it has left a trail on the orders of the House of Commons which is traceable through
the centuries to the
present day. At one
time it is swords that
are the subject of
regulation ; at another,
spurs. Again, it is
hats, or it may be
gloves. Even the
serious work of the
House is affected by
the personal equip-
ment of a member.
Unless he wears his
hat in certain circum-
stances he is not in
order and cannot be
TUB SPEAKER'S STATE COACH, heard ; in other con-
Lait u«ed when the member* of the Honae of Commons waited on the lite Qneen Victoria at Buckingham '
Palace in 1897. It« exact weight i. 2 j ton«. bareheaded he is
6o
Parliament Past and Present
equally at fault, and will inevitably be called to account by the Chair. In fact, from the
moment the member goes down to \\Y-tmiu~trr until he quits the legislative precincts, he is
continually having brnught t» his mini! tin- philosophy of clothes as exemplified in Parlia-
mentary traditions and praci ire.
In the earliest time-, when the regular sittings of Parliament were much more formal
and ipectaeolv than they are at the present day. the dros of members had largely an oflirial
diameter. As is shown in the quaint, old painting of Parliament in Kdvvaid I.'s time to
which reference has previously been made, the whole assembly wore the robes of their
respective orders. Possibly this may have been an exceptional sitting, either at the opening
or close of a Parliament. But from the fact that the King in those days personally
presided at the joint sitting of the two Houses, it may be assumed with a fair degree of
safety that the custom of robing was habitually observed. In later times, when the two
Till: SI'KAKKH S I.1I1I1AI1Y.
The room it a continuation of the stately suite of ajwrtnienu which comprise the House of Commons library.
branches of the Legislature had separated, a less formal system doubtless obtained, and
the dress of members was not in any material degree different from that of people in the
ordinary walks of life.
Arms seem to have been universally worn from the earliest period. Occasionally badges urn-
donned with (lie lethal weapons, to indie-ate the partisan sympathies of the wearers. Thus a
Parliament of the- reign of Edward II. came to be known as the " Parliament de la liond" from
the circumstance that the Barons wore coloured bands ujion their sleeves as a demonstration
of their united antagonism to the two Spencers. Another Parliament — that of the fourth
year of the reign of Henry VI. — was nicknamed the "Parliament of Bats" because its
members, being prohibited from wearing swords, equipped thrm-ehcs with long wooden staves.
The custom of wearing swords was a dangerous one when jwirty feeling ran high and hot
words were exchanged across the floor. Following the passing Of the Great Remonstranre in
1641, there was, as already noted, an exciting scene in which lueiiilx-rs would have "catched at
each other's locks," and "sheathed their swords in each other's bowels," but for Hampden's
timely intervention. Isolated encounters arising out of the habit of carrying arms were
,<l>ttlo itprcially taken itt kis private room,
THE BIGHT HON. WILLIAM COURT GrLI.Y,
The present Speaker of the House of Commons.
MBS. GULLY IN HEH BOUDOIR, WITH HER PRIVATE SECRETARY.
61
62
Parliament Past and Present
Mi:. I:I>WAH;> cri.i.v. Tin: BPSAKSRfl s::citi:TAHY.
Who acts at intermediary between the Sjwiker nnd member*.
not uncommon. They led eventually
to the rigorous exclusion of the sword
from the legislative Chamber by the
order of the House. Before this oc-
curred, the Speaker had lieen en-
dowed by the House with special
authority to suppress duelling with a
stern hand. On January 31st, 1041,
in consequence, no doubt, of the in-
creasing acrimony of the debates, an
order was passed " that the Speaker
shall have a warrant to apprehend
and stay such members of this House
as he shall be informed do either
send challenges or receive or entertain
challenges." A little more than four
years later— on April 28th, 1645— a
further and more wide-reaching rule
was passed. It was to the efl'ect " that
if any quarrel happen between any gentlemen or others, in any place within the cities of
London and Westminster and the lines of communication (the House not sitting), that upon
information thereof to Mr. Speaker, he shall have power to send for the parties and secure
their persons till the House be acquainted with it, and take further order." That this authority
to the Speaker to act the role of peacemaker
was exercised from time to time there is ample
evidence to show. The most conspicuous instance
of his intervention is supplied by the incident of
the quarrel , between Lord Cavendish and Sir John
Hanmer over the result of a division, an account
of which has been given in an earlier chapter.
On that occasion Lent hall extracted from each
of the leading parties in the fracas a promise
that the quarrel should not be carried outside.
Before the Stuart period, during which this
lively episode occurred, the House had witnessed
some curious developments in costume. By no
means the least striking was that which was
introduced in the reign of Henry VIII. The
petticoat robes of Plantagenet times had just
been expelled, and the trouser as an article of
everyday costume had made its appearance. The
new garment as then worn was a fearful and
wonderful article. It took the form in most
cases of trunk breeches of enormous size, the
artificial distension being secured by st lifting the
interior with wool, tow. hair, or anything that
came handy. So cumbersome were they that
special arrangements had to be made to relieve
the wearers of the burden when indoors. In the
Ilarleian MS. it is stated that "over the seats
in the Parliament House were holes two inches
square in the wall, in which were posts supporting
Ml— SHELLEY GULLY,
Whu nbly avUU Mn. Gall; ID her Kclul ilr.tie..
The Speaker as Host — Parliamentary Costume
& scaffold round the rooms for the use of those who wore great breeches stuffed with
hair like woolsacks." The scaffolds, it is added, continued until the reign of Elizabeth, when
they were taken down, the fashion having then gone out. In connection with these extra-
ordinary articles of attire, Holinshed relates an amusing story: "A prisoner appearing before
a judge to answer an accusation against him at the time that the law prohibited wearing baise
stuffed into the breeches, was told that he wore his breeches contrary to the law. He began to
excuse himself of the offence, and endeavouring by little and little to discharge himself of
that which he did wear within them, he drew out of his breeches a pair of sheets, two table-
cloths, ten napkins, four shirts, a brush, a glass, and a comb, night-caps and other things of
use, saying, 'Your Highness may understand that because I have no safer a storehouse, these
pockets do serve me for room to lay up my goods in, and though it be a straight prison,
THE SPEAKER'S STATE DINIXO-ROOM,
A» It appeared before one of the Speaker's Parliamentary full-dress dinners.
yet it is a storehouse big enough for them, for I have many things more of value yet within
it." With a laugh the judge dismissed the prisoner, only stipulating that he should restock
his storehouse with the articles with which he strewed the Court.
The gargantuan trunk breeches and the exaggerated ruffs and furbelows gave place to
a quieter style of costume. Puritanism, which was then making itself felt, was opposed to the
fripperies of the beans of Elizabeth's Court. It even looked askance at spurs, for we find it
recorded by D'Ewes that on a certain day in the thirty-ninth year of the Virgin Queen's
reign, the Chancellor of the Exchequer of the day "admonished that none should enter
with their spurs, not to offend others." Subsequently action was taken from the Chair
relative to the practice. "Mr. Speaker showed to the House that some particular members
found themselves aggrieved that the ancient order for putting off their spurs before they came
into the Parliament House was not observed, which he prayed might be done." Others, it is
Parliament Past and Present
further stated, suggested that boots and rapiers should be taken away, "but nothing was done
thereon." The prohibition against the wearing of spurs continued for many years, but in
process of time it became rather a tradition than a decree. How it was read towards the
close of the eighteenth century is shown by the following extract from I/>rd ColcheMei's
Diary : "March 18th, 179G.— No luisine-s in House of Commons; but Popham, an old Ml',
represented to me that I was disorderly in wearing my spurs in the House, as none Imt
county members were entitled to that privilege."
So far as clothing was concerned, the House in the Stuart period came to be divided much
as it was on political matters. The stern, unbending Parliamentarians adopted a plain, severe
form of attire — a long cloak, with the sugarloaf hat and top boots. In striking contrast to them
were the adherents of the Court, who wore long curls flowing gracefully from under a plumed
hat. and whose cloak served rather to accentuate than to conceal the richly embroidered vests
which were a characteristic part of their costume. Sir Philip Warwick, describing Cromwell's
THE KED IHtAWlXU-ROOM IN" THE SPEAKEKS1 HOUSE,
So called from the colour of the decorations.
first entrance into the House, shows very clearly the distinction between the two parties in this
matter. "I came one morning into the House well clad," he says, "and perceived a gentleman
speaking whom I knew not, very ordinarily apparelled, for it was a plain cloth suit, which
seemed to have been made by an ill country tailor. His linen was plain and not very clean ;
and I remember a speck or two of blood upon his little hand which was not much larger than
hi> collar. His hat was without a hatband, his sword stuck close to his side, his countenance
swollen and reddish, his voice sharp and untunable, and his eloquence full of fervour." During
the Commonwealth, (his plainness of costume noted in the case of Cromwell on his first
appearance at St. Stephen's became the rule. A solemn, sober-garbed a-sembly gathered
during those eventful years to do the nation's business in the peculiar style which marked the
j>eriod. (In the He>t oration there was a reaction from the rigid suppression of the Puritanical
regime in the House of Commons, as elsewhere in the country. Legislators blossomed forth
into the gayest of beaus and fops. Long hair, embroidered vests, laced ruffles, and perfumed
handkerchiefs were everywhere in evidence. Never had the dull old interior of St. Stephen's
The Speaker as Host — Parliamentary Costume 65
ELWKS, THE MISER,
Chapel been so resplendent with colour. But the
mode passed. When the troubles with the Second
James brought the House back to the serious con-
cerns of life, the members, with their indifference to
constitutional innovations, put off their smart clothing
and once more came down to the level of a work-a-
day existence. The Speaker, meanwhile, was left
largely to his own devices as far as costume was
concerned. In the absence of an official garb he
customarily donned the dress of the period in the
style which best pleased him. As in the case of
the general body of legislators, he wore his hat, only
removing it when addressing the House. The covered
head implied no disrespect in those days. On the
contrary, as in Eastern countries to-day, it was a
breach of manners to be seen without the hat in
company. To this period are to be traced the rules
affecting headgear in the House of Commons, which
strike the visitor as so curious when he first makes
acquaintance with them. Early in the eighteenth
century the Speaker was endowed with a wig and
official dress, and the hat in his case lost its
A wealthy member of Parliament noted for his penurious habits. cirmifjpnn p •
The eighteenth century ushered in a new sartorial era in Parliament. The prevailing note
was a stiff formalism. Full dress was the rule, and those who had orders habitually wore them.
Walpole invariably addressed the House with the broad blue riband of the Garter conspicuous
across his breast. The elder Pitt never failed to appear in dress coat and tie wig, as if prepared
for a levee. Lord North was also a great stickler for the proprieties in dress, and, in allusion
to his Garter, was most frequently referred to as "the noble lord with the blue riband." The
scene at all times was one of much brilliancy; but it had an added touch of splendour on
the night of a great debate, when the benches were full. Then the glitter of stars and the
challenging colours of the ribands of the Orders of the Garter and the Bath, with the eager,
animated faces on the back benches appearing from under the grey powdered wigs, which were
universally worn, gave a distinction to the assembly which it cannot lay claim to in these times
of levelling broadcloth and ostentatious contempt for display in the everyday affairs of life.
While the general character of the eighteenth-century Parliaments was a dignified
splendour of attire, there were exceptions to the rule of smart dressing. One of these was
John Elwes, the miser, who sat in three successive Parliaments for Berkshire. Elwes was a
character of his day. Though his income was many thousands a year, he would hang about
Palace Yard in the hope that some brother member would give him a lift home, and when
he arrived there he would often turn into bed after a frugal meal to save light and firing.
His costume was in keeping with these penurious habits. He is said by his biographer to
" have nearly reached that happy climax of poverty which has more than once drawn to him
the compassion of those who passed him in the street." The only concession he made to his
dignity as a member was to keep a special suit for the Speaker's dinners and for other social
gatherings. In the course of the session the Speaker and the political leaders became well
acquainted with this costume, and the joke went round that no one had a right to take
offence at Elwes, " as he had the same habit with everybody." In the House on one occasion
an accident happened to the old man which was a standing Parliamentary joke for years
afterwards. " Elwes," says Harford, " wore a wig ; it looked as if it might have been picked off a
hedge or a scarecrow. At that time we used to wear dress swords occasionally at the House:
for instance, if going to the opera. One day Bankes, whose carriage is stiff and lofty, had on
66
Parliament Past and Present
\\a>
I'KuM cixi: llot'SE TO AXOTHKK.
his sword and was seated next to Elwes, wlio leant his head forward just as Bankes was rising
up to leave his place, when the hilt of his sword came in contact with Klwes's wig, which it
whisked off and Iwre away. The House was instantly in a roar of laughter. I never shall
forget the scene. There was old Klwes without his wig, darting forward to reclaim it, ami
Bankes inarching on quite unconscious of the sword knot which he wore, and wondering
what the laugh was about."
The advent of the nineteenth century saw the end of the old grand style in Parliamentary
costume. Gradually the knee-breeches, the wigs, the silk stockings, the silver buckles, and the
da/.zling ribands gave place to the sober and unpretentious garb of modern life. What there
daily display took the form of bright ties, bottle-green waistcoats, and other affectations
of the Dandy Era. These
lingered on beyond the
j>eriod when the men
of the Young England
coterie had outgrown
i heir little weaknesses.
But. they were faint
reminiscences of departed
glories. The old spirit
is only truly revived.
and that transiently, at
the beginning of a session,
when the members for
the City of London, in
accordance with imme-
morial usage, take their
Wal|«ile lowing from the HUIIM of Common* to the Home of Lenin. In the background appear* a case , _,
with, above it, the wonls " Denf. Snuff Shop." SCatS On the Ireasurv
Bench, and the mover
and the seconder of the Address, attired in uniform, make pleasant oases of colour in a
desert of black broadcloth.
But if the taste for fine clothes has waned in Parliament, our legislators have diminished
nothing in their deference for .the rules, written and unwritten, which, as we have already indicated,
affect headgear. The hat, indeed, has been elevated almost into a parliamentary fetich. Without
the aid of a hat a member cannot properly reserve his seat, though lenient Speakers have on
some occasions sanctioned the use of gloves for this purpose. A hat, again, must be worn if a
member speaks to a point of order during a division; but he must beware of keeping it on
while a message from the Throne is being read, or when he is entering or leaving the
Legislative Chamber. For a member to go uncovered habitually, however, is a heinous offence
against etiquette. By usage, the only persons who are allowed to leave their hats in the
cloak-room are the Whips. The bare head in their case is the outward and visible sign of tin-
office they fill.
Before quitting the subject of costume, a few words may perhaps be said about an old
habit once widely prevalent at St. Stephen's, as in general society — that of snuff-taking. The
snuff-box was at once the sign of good-breeding and the mark of good-fellowship. Jt \v.i>
carried as the cigarette-case is to-day, and was even more in evidence in the legislative
precincts than is that adjunct of modern civilisation. In an old engraving showing Wai pole's
passage from the House of Commons to the House of Lords he is represented as pacing
through a chamber by the walls of which is a glazed cupboard containing tins of snuff. It
was apparently the stock-in-trade of some enterprising salesman who had gained access to the
House, as it was easy enough to do in those days with a little interest. In more recent
times a generous Legislature used to indulge its genteel weakness at the national expense,
and in the Estimates every year was an allowance for snuff for the use of members.
CHAPTER VII.
SOCIAL ASPECTS OF PARLIAMENTARY LIFE— WINING AND DINING.
A SUBJECT of much interest for the historical investigator is the rise of what is known as the
Kitchen Department of the House of Commons. In our backward glance into the past, we
feel anxious to know something of the inner life of the legislator at old St. Stephen's. How
were his needs and his comforts ministered to ? How grew up that social life which now plays
so prominent, and in some eyes so important, a part in the proceedings of the nation's repre-
sentatives at Westminster? In a sentence: How did the House of Commons become "the best
club in London " ?
When we essay to answer these questions, we are confronted with a lamentable paucity
of material. Antiquarian writers and
annalists tell us, with great wealth
of detail, the story of St. Stephen's
in its architectural, its historical,
and its political aspects. But they
are for the most part silent as to the
everyday life of the place. It is
only by piecing together the casual
statements of gossipy writers, and
unearthing an occasional fact from
old official documents, that we are
able to form a picture of life at
Westminster no farther back than
a century ago. We probably shall
not be wrong in assuming that the
absence of information is explained
by the prosaic fact that there is
really no story to tell. It has to be
remembered that there is a vast gulf
between the social and domestic
customs of to-day and those of our
ancestors in Tudor, Stuart, and even
Georgian times. Now we turn
night into day. Our forbears reversed
the custom, and began the day in
the middle of the night. The dinner-
hour was in the forenoon, and rarely,
if ever, later than midday. It is
recorded that when Charles II. pro-
wise CELLARS OP THE HOUSE OF COMMONS, ceeded from the Tower to Westminster
In which are stocked tb« supplies purchased DJ the Kitchen Committee. Usually there on the day of his Coronation, he
is wine to the value of several thousand pounds in the vaults. " dined " in the early forenoon. This,
67
68
Parliament Past and Present
doubtless, was an exceptional case of
early dining, and as the meal was
followed by the banquet in Westminster
Hull later in the day, the phrase may
be regarded as implying, not the Kng-
lish dinner, but the French (ISjruner,
to which Charles's stay abroad had, we
may take it, made him ]>artial. leav-
ing, however, this incident out of the
question, there is ample evidence to
show that at that period the fashionable
hour for dinner was about the time
that our modern legislators, if they are
specially early risers, are getting out
of bed.
The hour of meeting of the House
of Commons was fixed to suit this
habit of early rising. It was once as
early as seven o'clock in the morning.
Towards Stuart times the practice
l>ecame fixed of a meeting lasting
from eight until twelve o'clock. At
the latter hour the member was free,
unless his attendance was required on a
Committee, when he had to look in
again for a short time in the after-
noon.
With such arrangements as those
obtaining, there was no opportunity
for social relaxation within the pre-
cincts, and no need for the elaborate
machinery which is now in operation
to minister to the creature needs of
the members. What refreshment was
required was doubtless obtained at one
or other of the numerous coffee-houses and taverns which clustered about the old Palace
like limpets upon a sea-wall. For social intercourse there were, besides these establish-
ments, a number of more pretentious and, perhaps, more select coffee-houses in King Street,
win-re the legislator, freed from the day's business, could drop in and talk political "simp"
over a foaming tankard of strong ale or a cup of sack. Even the simplest refreshment, there
is good reason to believe, was unobtainable in the precincts a couple of centuries ago, and
perhaps at a considerably later period. "Pray thee, keep warm as thou can," said Dame Alice
Kenyon, writing under date January 12th, 1693, to her husband, Roger Kenyon, at Wot in luster —
" Pray thee keep warm, and take something in thy pocket to the House to supp off. Thy age
and weakness require it." l
There was no doubt a certain freedom of manners in these earlier Parliamentary days.
which made any special catering the less necessary. Members, as we may gather from this
affectionate appeal of Dame Kenyon, were accustomed to take their own provender to the
House, and, it may be surmised from certain entries in the Journals referring to the practice
of eating nuts in the Chamber, they were not ashamed to consume it there. Indeed, we know
from the direct statements of contemporary writers that the faithful Commons openly regaled
1 Historical MS., 14th Report, Ap., p. 281.
THK VAI.ENTIA VAT.
TbU huge venel In the Commons cellar i» capable of holding 1,000 gallons It u
never drawn below a minimum of 400 gallons
Social Aspects of Parliamentary Life — Wining and Dining 69
themselves with bread and cheese at the trial of Charles I.1 Nor was it alone in the matter
of eating and drinking that our ancestors allowed themselves latitude. They appear to have
smoked pretty nearly as the fancy took them, even actually profaning the precincts of
the Legislative Chamber, if we accept the following order of the House, dated May 23rd, 1693,
in its plain meaning : " That no tobacco be taken by any member in the Gallery, nor at the
Table sitting at Committees."
The need for proper accommodation was not seriously felt until the House took to sitting
to the unconscionably late hours of five and six in the evening, as it did towards the middle
of the eighteenth century. This change in Parliamentary custom almost necessarily involved
a corresponding change in private habits. Attempts to snatch an advantage of a lax opponent
were as common then
as now, and the member
had to be well within
hail if he wished to
maintain the position of
his party, which meant
to him personally prob-
ably a very great deal.
In this way a supply of
refreshments within the
precincts became practi-
cally a necessity. Before
or about the period when
special arrangements
began to be made there
was a pleasant custom
of members " dropping
in " on a congenial spirit
and enjoying such
hospitality as he had to
offer. \Vilberforce, who
lived very conveniently
in Palace Yard, was one
of those who kept open
house in this way. The
stream of diners would
begin about threeo'clock,
and there would usually
be a party of about
twenty. " It delighted
us," said Mr. 'Wilber-
force, " to see our friends
in this way, especially as
it gave us the oppor-
tunity of talking upon
any important points of
public business, without
any great sacrifice of
time. Those who came
1 It may not be uninteresting here to note that at the proceedings of the South African Committee it was Mr
Cecil Rhodes's daily custom during the period of his examination to have brought in a large glass of stout and a
plate of sandwiches, which he partook of while giving evidence. But, of course, there is a broad distinction between
a sitting of a Select Committee and a sitting of the House.
MB. JOIIN BELLAMY,
The founder of the Kitchen Department of the House of Commons. Aa proprietol of "Bellamys
Kitchea ' he was intimate with Fox, Sheridan, and the younger Pitt.
70
Parliament Past and Present
THK ovi:mi.\NTi:i. ix TIIK IMXIXC-HOOM. imi -r. m- COMMON*.
A magnificent «)>ecimen uf the wood-earring which U a feature of th« adornment of the llo
up late put tiji with a
mutton diop or lx-ef steak.
Tin1 Duke of MontroM-
called in one day as we
were thus employed, hut
del-lined taking anything.
Seeini'. luiwi-viT. s<> many
around him busy with
knife and fork, he said. • I
cannot n-»i>t any longer.'
and down he sat to a
mutton chop. • Ali. I>uke,'
said I, 'if your Kivnrh
cook could M-C you now. lu>
would he <|iiiteatiYontcd.' "
Burke was another
who wa- accustomed In
receive his friends in tlii>
delightful fashion. lli-
nihui'/f was of the happy-
go-lncky order— not di>-
similar. in fact, from that
of his friend Sir Joshua Reynolds, who never knew to a dozen or more how many friends In-
had asked to dinner. An amusing story is related hy Prior in illti*tration of the great orator'*
carelessness. "Having been detained late in the HOIIM-. lie asked Fox, Lord John Cavendish,
and two or three more of the party to sup, when, on announcing the object of their visit to
.Mrs. Burke, a look of annoyance and despair sufficiently told of the ill-provided state of the
larder. A pause ensued. 'Surely,' said the host, with a comic face, -there is Ix-ef enough?'
Fox and two or three others, making an apology for momentary al»ence, hurried off to a
neighbouring tavern, provided themselves each with a dish of such fare as could be procured,
and, amid much laughter
fV'iiu all jmrties — ]«irticu-
larly the master of the
IIOIIM-. who cracked some
jokes on their skill as
waiters — passed an amu>-
ing evening."
As far as the Mouse
of Commons is concerned.
it was not until 177:.
that any >tcps of a definite
character were taken to
provide refreshment-, regu-
larly. In that year Mr.
.loh n Bellamy, on assum-
ing the duties of deputy
housekeeper, was urged
by niemlters to make <m
his own account arrange-
ments for a supply of
THK 1U.KGAI. IIAK, ... . , ..
eihliles for consumption
Otherwije the Stranger*' Bar. at which refrMhmenU are Bold to vuiton without thn eanction of a .
licence. on the premises. As he
THE HOUSE OP COMMONS DINING-ROOM,
A fine apartment with windows overlooking the river.
THE HOUSE OF COMMONS DINING-ROOM : THE MINISTERS' TABLE.
This table is by courtesy absolutely reserved for members of the Government. Usually it is fully occupied.
71
Parliament Past and Present
had only two rooms at his di>]«>sal. and these of no great si/.e. he at first demurred1 to
undertaking the re»|>onsibility. but, on Ix-ing pressed, he agreed to see what could be done.
He fitted up his quarters in unpretentious fashion, and provided a few simple viands, such
as joints of beef and sandwiches. In this way came into existence an institution which
flourished for more than half a century, and won for its originator a certain degree of fame.
The story that William Pitt on his death-bed cried. "Oh, for one of Bellamy's pies!" no
doubt is aj>ocryphal ; but the mere gossiping association of the two personalities indicates that
the shrewd old housekeeper made his mark in his own jwirticular line.
Dickens in his "Sketches by Boz " gives a racy description of '-Bellamy's" as he knew it.
when early in the second quarter of the past century he made acquaintance with it as a
-Parliamentary reporter. There were then two rooms used for dining, in such close proximity
to the House that the laughter and conversation of the diners floated into the chamber with
the odour of the viands. Associated with these rooms was a little bar place with sash windows,
where sat in state Nicholas. Bellamy's butler. "An excellent servant Nicholas is — an unrivalled
comjxnmder of salad dressing, an admirable preparer of soda water and lemon, a 8j>ecial mixer
of cold grog and punch, and above all an unequalled judge of cheese." No description of him,
however, is necessary, for if the visitor has one atom of observation, " one glance at his sleek,
knowing-looking head and face, his prim white neckerchief, with the wooden tie into which
it has been regularly folded for twenty years past, merging by imperceptible degrees into a
small pleated shirt frill, and his comfortable-looking form encased in a well-brushed suit of
THE IH'l -I. OF LOHDS DI.MNC-KOOM,
.Similar in it* general arrangement* to'the Common* dining-room, bat under aepamto management.
1 See evidence of Sir. John Bellamy, the aon, given before the Select Committee on House of Commons Officer*
and Keen, presented to the House August 12th, 1833,
Social Aspects of Parliamentary Life — Wining and Dining 73
black, would give you a better
idea of his real character than
a column of our poor description
could convey." But the real centre
of interest at Bellamy's is the
kitchen, where you are called
upon to notice " the large fire
and roasting jack at one end of
the room, the little table for
washing glasses and draining jugs
;;t the other, the clock over the
window opposite St. Margaret's"
Church, the deal tables and wax
candles, the damask table-cloths
and bare floor, the plate and china
on the tables and the gridiron
on the fire. Here, as the division
is not expected for half an hour
or two, a few members are loung-
ing away their time, in preference
to standing at the Bar of the
House, or sleeping in one of the
side galleries. . . . That female
in black, not the one whom the
Lord's Day Bill Baronet has just
chucked under the chin, the
shorter of the two, is 'Jane,' the
Hebe of Bellamy's. Jane is as
great a character as Nicholas in
her way. Her leading features
are a thorough contempt for the
great majority of her visitors' ;
her predominant quality love of
admiration, as you cannot fail
to observe if you mark the glee
with which she listens to something the young member near her mutters somewhat unin-
telligibly in her ear (for his speech is rather thick from some cause or other), and how
playfully she digs the handle of a fork into the arm with which he detains her by way of
reply. Jane is no bad hand at repartees, and showers them about with a degree of liberality
and a total absence of reserve or constraint which occasionally excites no small amazement
in the minds of strangers. She cuts jokes with Nicholas too, but looks up to him with
a great deal of respect ; the immovable stolidity with which Nicholas receives the aforesaid
jokes and looks on at certain pastoral friskings and rompings (Jane's only recreations, and
they are very innocent, too) which occasionally take place in the passage, is not the least
amusing part of his character." The patrons of the establishment are hit off in a few ready
touches. One of them is " a spare, squeaking old man . . . who, elevating a little cracked
bantam sort of voice to its highest pitch, invokes damnation upon his own eyes or somebody
else's at the commencement of every sentence he utters." He is "a very old frequenter of
Bellamy's, much addicted to stopping ' after the House is up ' (an inexpiable crime in Jane's
eyes), and a complete walking reservoir of spirits and water." His companion, an old peer,
has a large tumbler of hot punch brought him, while he " damns and drinks and drinks and
damns and smiles." " Members arrive every moment in a great bustle to report that ' the
10
/he portrait by D. Macliu, R.A.
CHARLES DICKENS,
Who was for several years in the Roportere' .Gallery of the House of Commons. Writer of a
spirited description of Bellamy's kitchen in "Sketches by II. /.."
74
Parliament Past and Present
Chancellor of tin- Kxchequer is ii|>,' and to get glosses of brandy and water to sustain them
during the division ; jieople who have or.lered su|>j>er countermand it and pn'jMire to go down-
stairs, when suddenly a liell is heard to ring with tremendous violence, and a cry of 'Division'
is heard in the jwssage. This is enough : away rush members pell-mell. The room is cleared
in an instant; the noise rapidly dies away; you hear the creaking of the last boot on the
last stair, and are left alone with the leviathan of beef steaks."
tlit pieturt !>y Thomas SanMy, R.A.
WESTMINSTER HALL.
Showing the inns and coffee-houses which were once a characteristic fcatnre of New Palace Yard.
Bellamy's, though rough and ready, as may be gathered from Dickens's lively description,
was not at all plebeian in its charges. Members who can now purchase a bottle of excellent claivt
for a shilling, and obtain a hot meal for the same sum, would move the suspension of the
Constitution if they had to pay the prices demanded of their predecessors at the beginning of
the century. A sandwich cost a shilling, a glass of wine and water or negus was Is. 6d., port
and sherry cost 6«. per bottle, claret 10s., and madeira 8s. On the other hand, it should, in
justice to the shade of the immortal Bellamy, be stated that he provided cold meat, with bread, beer,
and cheese, for 2a. Qd., the same with a salad and tart for 3s. 6d., while 5s. (> I. scrured the m»-t
expensive dinner that could be had, this consisting of "steaks, veal pie. mutton chops to anv
extent, with tarts, salads, pickles, beer, toasted cheese, etc,"1 surely the most indigestible menu.
that a legislator ever sustained eloquence upon. The business, however, was undoubtedly a very
fine one. K ooms and furniture were provided at the national expense, tliere was very little
risk, and there was a certain business at the highest rates. .Moreover, the practice of supplying
wine to members with their meals led to lucrative transactions outside the House, and so the
foundations were laid of a business which exists to this day in Westminster.
It was in human nature that the establishment of this prosperous connection of the Bellamy
1 Mr. John Bellamy's evidence before the Select Committee of 1833.
Social Aspects of Parliamentary Life — Wining and Dining 75
family with the House should provoke envy. Many were the attacks, open and covert, made
upon the system. For example, in a little work — a veritable chronique scandaleuse hereafter
to be mentioned — written by a chief doorkeeper of the House and published in 1793, a Bellamy's
sandwich is thus defined : " Two small slices of bread and butter, almost transparent, with a thin
piece of stale ham or beef between them, and used to keep the people in the gallery from famishing
from eleven o'clock until the next morning. N.B. — Bellamy charges a shilling for them, and
they don't stand him above twopence. . . . ' Bellamy's profit,' as Dick Rigby once said, when
Cook was appointed Paymaster-General with him, 'is a d d sight more than my guineas."'
These grumblers notwithstanding, the system lasted many years after its founder had
departed this life full of years — leaving a handsome fortune behind him. It would probably
also have survived the life of his son had not the destruction of the old Houses of Parliament
and the construction of the new building brought prominently to the front the question of the
refreshment arrangements. It was not, however, until 1848 that anything definite was done.
In the session of that year a Select Committee was appointed "to inquire into the proposed
arrangements of the Kitchen and Eating and Accommodation Rooms for members and officers
of the House of Commons in the New Palace of Westminster, and to report whether any and
what improvements could be made in the present system of supplying refreshments." A report
was in due course forthcoming, recommending the appointment of a Sessional Committee to
control the arrangements of the Kitchen and Eating Departments. Effect was given to the
Committee's proposal, and the new regime was installed immediately the Commons entered
into occupation of its new home. Apparently its operations were not regarded with entire
approval by "the trade," for a petition was
presented by hotel and tavern keepers in
the immediate vicinity of the House com-
plaining of the facilities for indiscriminate
refreshment afforded by the department within
the precincts. The Kitchen Committee, to
whom the matter was referred, declined to
vary their plans, believing them to be essential
to the convenience of members and of visitors
to the House ; but they stated that " as a
protection to other parties " they had been
careful to give strict instructions that no
refreshments whatever should be sold in the
halls of the House upon those days when the
House and its Committees were not sitting.
Once established, the system of direct
official supervision of the creature needs of
members was never abandoned. Changes,
however, have been made in it from time to
time, to meet the growing demands imposed
upon the department by the extension of
facilities for social intercourse and the lengthen-
ing of the hours of business. For a period
the actual work of catering was left to a
contractor, who received a grant from the
public funds and supplied refreshments at
fixed rates. Eventually the Committee took
the duties into their own hands, and worked
the dePartme°t ™der a manager in the
Sam6 ^ a§ tllC h°US6 COmmittee °f ">
consumption. ordinary club. This arrangement still obtains,
76
Parliament Past and Present
THE LOBBY BAK,
Where legislators obtain light rcfroshn.cnt* daring the sittings of the Hor.se. Strangers are not
served here unless introduced by members.
and gives general satisfaction.
as in the selection of the
personnel of the Committee
care is taken to appoint
members of bu.-ino.-s aptitude
and practical experience in
the work.
The Commit too holds its
meetings in the office of the
Sergeant-at-Arms fortnightly,
Mud a nib-Committee of seven
members meets weekly, the
purchase of wines and spirits
forming an important part of
their deliberations. Extreme
care is taken in the selection
of stock. The practice is for
well-known \\ine merchants
to submit samples in bottles
which bear no indication of
their origin. These- are
numbered, and the members,
with pencil and paper beside
them, note down their opinion
of each as it comes under
review. When the tasting operation is completed, notes are compared, and the order is given
to the sample which meets with the greatest approval. So experienced are the Committee in
the process of selection that it rarely happens that there is any great difference of opinion as
to which is the best wine submitted.
One of the features of the Commons cellar is the Valentia vat, so named after the popular
Whip, Viscount Valentia. This is a huge vessel capable of holding one thousand gallons of
Scotch whisky, ten j'ears old, 15 u.p. It is never drawn below a minimum of four hundred
gallons. A smaller vat of Irish whisky contains three hundred gallons. The wine cellars are
methodically arranged with bins of bottled wines, and among them are a selection of the
lioyal sherries from Buckingham and St. James's Palaces and Windsor Castle.
Some idea of the extent of the catering may be gathered from the fact that a staff of
twenty cooks are employed, and that the total number of meals served during last session
exceeded one hundred and eleven thousand. The tariff is arranged to suit all pockets. For a
modest shilling the frugal member can obtain a meal adequate for bis simple needs. An
inclusive charge of 2s. secures a plain dinner of three courses. An additional shilling com-
mands a more elaborate meal ; while if a member spends 5s. he can fare most sumptuously on
all the delicacies in season. The wine list is framed on lines as comprehensive as those of the
bill of fare. A bottle of excellent claret costs r.o more than IQd., and a bottle of light hock
or graves may be obtained for Is. Champagne (1893 wine) ranges from 6s. the bottle to
8«. 6d., and a bottle of the 1884 vintage of a first-class brand costs no more than 15s. These
charges are indicative of the principles upon which " the best club in London " is worked.
The aim which is kept steadily in view by successive Kitchen Committees is to cater on the
broadest lines and at the most moderate rates. I low well they have succeeded the almost
embarrassing popularity of the House of Commons dining-rooms abundantly testifies.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE LOBBY.
A GREAT Parliamentary institution is the Lobby. It is at once the green-room, the news
exchange, and the playground of the House of Commons. Everybody of importance who is in
the House or of the House is to be found there during the evening. Great questions of policy
are discussed and sometimes settled there. Within its limits are Parliamentary friendships
cemented, and occasionally — very occasional ly— are differences exacerbated. On its flags
representatives of the Press exchange confidences with Ministers, and find the pabulum for
those political notes which are now a standing dish in the columns of every leading newspaper.
No part of the Houses of Parliament is so cosmopolitan in its interests and sympathies ; none
is so broadly cynical in its way of looking at things. In a word, it is the most interesting
centre that there is in the whole of the vast building.
When we come to inquire into the genesis of this famous annexe of the House of
Commons, we are confronted with more than the ordinary difficulty pf investigating old
institutions. Official records are non-existent, tradition has little to say on the subject, and
biography and history still less. The fact is, the Lobby, as we know it to-day, is in the main
a purely modern development. A Lobby, no doubt,
there ahvavs was, from the time the faithful
Commons had their meeting-place in St. Stephen's
Chapel, but it was a mere ante-chamber into which,
all and sundry were admitted, from personal servants
of members to expectant placemen and casual idlers.
Necessarily, in the circumstances it was a centre
for the exchange of gossip, and those who wanted
to know how the political world was wagging resorted
thither. Old Pepys, in his day, seems to have been
a fairly frequent visitor. Amongst several references
to the place in his Diary is the following: " Jun. 14,
1659-60. — Nothing to do at our office. Thence into
the Hall ; and just as I was going to dinner from
Westminster Hall with Mr. Moore (with whom I had
been in the Lobby to hear news) I had spoke with
Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper about my Lord's lodgings."
That the Lobby was a lively spot on occasion
may be gathered from various resolutions which the
House found itself constrained to pass from time
to time in the interests of order. " That the
S. •!•_," 'ant-.-it-Arms and his messengers do take all
possible care to keep the Lobby, passages, and stairs
of the House clear of all idle, loose, and disorderly
persons," is the injunction which the House passed
on January 27th, 1699, and it is again and again
repeated. " Lacqueys and footmen " were in most
instances specifically mentioned as of the class upon
77
THE LOWEB LOBBY OP THE OLD HOUSE OF
COMMONS.
It was here that members' footmen anil servants were
accustomed to congregate, oftentimes to the great annoyance
of the House.
Parliament Past and Present
\vliom the officials should have
their eye; but "Papists" w
also singled out, the House pro-
claiming that they must not
"presume to come into West-
minster Hall, the Court of
Keenest-;, or Ix)bby of this House
on the sitting of this Parlia-
ment," and directing that the
order be posted up on We>t minster
Hall gate and in the Lobby,
and that the Sergeant-at-Arms
should take into custody all
•us offending against it.
Occasionally at that period, no
doubt, with the lacqueys and
disorderly persons who throngeil
the Lobby there mingled people
who had serious business to dis-
charge. A case in point is to
be found in the " Autobiography
of Dr. George Clarke," in the
Leyborne-Popham MS.,1 where
he relates the circumstances
attending his dismissal by the
Prince of Denmark, and mentions
that while the Prince's agent,
-Mr. Nicholas, was acquainting
him with the Prince's coinm:ni<l>
in the Lobby of the House of
Commons, "a footman came to
Mr. Nicholas and told him the
Prince must speak with him im-
mediately."
What the Ixibby was like at the end of the eighteenth century we are able to judge
from an extraordinary work called "Pearson's Political Dictionary," published in 1793. Joseph
Pearson was for many years princii«l doorkeeper at the House, and as he was described when
the work was published as "the late," it is to be presumed that his experience must have gone
well back into that century. The old adage that no gentleman is a hero to his valet tinds
exemplification in this worthy doorkeeper's pages. He jotted down freely and frankly his view>
of men and things, and he spared neither rank, age, nor sex in his confidences. A more personal
— it may be said a more scandalous — legacy was never left to posterity by any official of the
House. It has, however, one saving merit. It gives us a picture of contemporary Parliamentary
life and manners such as we could not possibly otherwise obtain. The work is made up of
entries under different headings. The Lobby is described as "a place crowded with members
and other servants, and noisy as a Jews' synagogue till the High Constable and his assistants
clear it of all strangers except those reporters who have been too lazy to come in time to get
into the gallery, and who in that case write all the debates in the Lobby." There is a nota
bene to the following effect: "The members shouldn't choke up the fireside, nor come whisking
in from the different coffee-houses just to know who's speaking, and when the debate is over."
A character of the Lobby, described under another head with a wealth of coarse detail, is the
1 nUtorical MS., Lej borne-Popham MB., p. 283.
THE ORANUE-lilKL.
A iirll-known I.obbjr character in tit eighteenth century.
a photo ly W. S. Campbell. Copyright, Hutchiiuon it Co.
THE LOBBY, HOUSE OP COMMONS.
The door on the right of the reader is the entrance to the Legislative Chamber. At the door on the left the party Whips are posted and take note
of members as they enter and leave the building.
79
8o
Parliament Past and Present
CHARLES JAMES FOX AS DEMOSTHENES.
One t f the many caricatures published of Fox. It lias a satirical reference to
liia fondness for platform oratory.
orange-woman, who, "with her black
cl<>ak thrown aside a little, her black
and black hair covered by a
slight curtained Unmet, u.-ed to sit
. . . with a basket of oranges on one
hand and hard biscuits on the othrr.
chiefly for the use of my friend Charles
Fox, who seems more relieved by a
biscuit in a hot debate than I am by
a bumper of brandy." She usually
appeared, the observant doorkeeper
tells us, in " clean white silk stockings,
Turkey leather shoes, and pink silk
bhort petticoat." Her dress was of
" clean, nice, light cotton," but some-
times towards the end of the session
>he would appear in "a sprigg'd pencil'd
member's muslin gown, with a thin
gauze neckerchief by way of enamel."
to display her charms to greater
advantage. A reference to the trading
operations of this character is made in
the following lines from the Rolliad
— that singular political anthology
which the Parliamentary wit and
wisdom of the eighteenth century
produced : —
O take, wise youth, the Hesperian fruit, of use
Thy lungs to cherish with balsamic juice.
With this thy parched rocf moisten ; nor con-
rama
Thy hours and guineas in the eating-room :
Till, full of claret, down with wild uproar,
Vou reel, and, stretch'd along the gallery, snore.
But, to return to our old friend the doorkeeper. Under the heading "Going Home" we have
the following:— "A signal for dinner. Mem: I can always tell the members invited to take
their mutton with the Speaker, by their pushing out first." " Dinner Bell " is explained as
" a bell rung upon the winding up of a debate, for the members upstairs at Bellamy's to come
down and do as they are bid. N.B. — A good excuse for some to leave their bills unpaid."
"Smoking Room" is thus ironically defined: "Formerly this was a room for members to
smoke their pipes in. Now the only use of it is for them to write franks for the reporters b}*
way of currying favour with them for good speeches. It is likewise used by the gallery people
to talk politics in when they are driven out of the House on a division."
There are other references less cognate to the subject in hand, but equally interesting
from the glimpses they give of the Parliamentary manners of a century since. "Alice's,"
for example, is described as "a coffee-house frequented by members for soups, which Bellamy
can't make, and other refreshments, while Burke is speaking. Mem. :. He never rises but I
have directly to open the door to let members out." Again we are told that " Jacobs's " is " a
well-known house kept by a black fellow of that name in Old Palace Yard, and frequented
by servants of members, who have a sort of rendezvous there till the Ix>rds and Commons are
"p." "Here, too," the veracious author proceeds, "bills are frequently brought in. The
Knights of the Whip and party-coloured tribe here fancy themselves as great as their masters,
The Lobby
8l
and are always talking of the speeches they have made, and when their House will be up.
Bills are read a first, second, and third time, and Master Jacobs obliged after all to set up a Devil to
Ix>rd Thurlow, a Doctor to the Speaker, Welsh rabbit to Lord Kenyon, and three-farthings'
worth of vinegar to Sir Pepper Arden, and a thousand other articles, for the rogues have, all of
them, the impudence to use their masters' names."
The impression left by Pearson's scandalous jottings is that the legislators of old days
were prone to conviviality, and in this respect at least he did them no injustice. The
amount of drinking — open unbridled drinking — a century or two ago was appalling. It was
no dishonour to the greatest to be seen under the influence of drink in public — rather the
contrary. It was a noble weakness which differentiated the man of spirit from the mere
huckster. In the Restoration period the proceedings of the House of Commons were not
infrequently stained by drunken orgies. Pepys mentions one instance which was brought
under his personal notice. " Told how Sir Allan Brodrick and Sir Allen Apsley did come drunk
the other day into the House, and did both speak for half an hour together, and could not
either be pulled or bid to sit down and hold their peace, to the great contempt of the
King's servants and cause." In the
eighteenth century the conditions, if
anything, were worse. For example,
on July loth, 1716, we find Lord
Stair writing to Lord Cathcart : l " The
Duke of Leeds is laid up. A hack-
ney coach had like to have broken his
leg t'other night when he was got
drunk." Again, on December 4th,
1722. Lord Cathcart writes to a friend
giving an edifying account of some
midnight frolics of the Duke of
Wharton and himself. He states that
he and his friends were drunk, and
adjourned to a Committee of the whole
House. " We met with the Duke of
Wharton as well refreshed as I. He
proposed to survey all the ladies in
the galleries. . . . He proposed to
knock up Argyle ; I the King." The
end of it was that the roysterers
knocked up the Duke of Argyle, who
received them well. Yet another
instance of the drinking customs of
the eighteenth century is supplied in
a letter of the Marquis of Kockingham
to Sir George Savile dated from Went-
\\orth, March 24th, 1768. In this the
writer says : " I have not suffered in
health by the fatigues of body or of
mind. I have had a good quantity
of madeira. On Monday last I was
very tolerably drunk by five o'clock,
and though I went through a variety
of ceremonies, such as attending the
assembly, supping and drinking with
THE ASSASSINATION- OP THE RIGHT HON. SPENCER PERCEVAL IN
THE LOBBY OP THE HOUSE OP COMMONS ON MAY UTII, 1812.
Historical MS., vol. ii. p. 2G.
11
82
Parliament Past and Present
mnnv com|wnies. I walked home alx>ut four o'clock in the morning, lifter having kept
myself in fact continually drunk or elevated for eleven hours. I had a MTV good night's
rest, and was not at all the worse for it the next day." A final contrilmtion t<> the volume
of evidence is supplied in a jmssage contained in a letter written by Sir (iilhcrt Klliott,
afterwards Lord Slinto, in 1788. This administrator, after an expiv—i.m of surprise at
the way in which the great orators of the House of Common* rermieiled their drinking
habits with their public exertions, wrote: "Fox drinks what I should call a great deal.
though he is not reckoned to do so by his omijinnioiis ; Sheridan <-\, -e— ively, and Grey
more than any of them; but it is in a much more gentlemanlike way than our Scotch
drunkards, and is always accom|>anied by clever, lively conversation on snltjeets of im-
portance. I'itt, I am told, drinks as much as anybody, generally more than any of
his com[Hiny, and he is a pleasant convivial man at table." It hardly needs to be said
that we have advanced enormously from the manners of these "good old time.-." Hani
drinking in high political places, if not unknown, is so exceedingly rare as to be practically
non-existent.
Turning from this interesting question of Parliamentary morals, we mu>t now touch UJK>Q
an incident in the history of the Lohbv which
caused, at the time it happened, a thrill of
horror throughout the length and breadth
of the three kingdoms. We refer to the
a>sassination of the Hon. Spencer Perceval
by the madman Hellingham. The event
occurred on May llth, 1812, under cir-
cumstances which will take little time in
the relation. On the day named, Perceval,
having besn summoned from I>owning
Street to a sitting of the House, walking
rapidly through the Lobby, was about to
enter the door of the Ix-gislative Chamber,
when a tall man in a tradesman's dress,
who was Banding by, raised a pistol and
fired. The shot, which was at almost
point-blank range, took immediate effect
in the statesman's heart. "Perce\al
walked on one or two paces, faintly uttered,
' Oh ! I am murdered,' and fell on the
floor. The affair had been so instantaneous that no one knew what had happened. Perceval
had fallen at William Smith's feet; and Smith, till he raised up the body, had not
recognised the murdered man. An officer of the House called out, 'Where is the rascal that
fired?' and the tall man rose up from his .-eat. and said, '1 am the unfortunate man.'
General Gascoigne seized the man with so much violence that he said afterwards that he
feared his arm would have been broken. Other members in the meantime assisted in
securing the assassin. The man was searched ; and another pistol, still loaded, and some
papers were found on him. Perceval's body had by this time been placed in a room in
the Speaker's house. Medical aid had been called in, to pronounce all such aid useless.
. . . The shot by which Perceval had fallen had been heard in the House of Commons.
For the moment the business of the day was not interrupted; a moment later a confused
whisper that some one had been shot ran through the House. A rush was made to the
door, and the truth became known. The Speaker was summoned from his house by the
intelligence (the House was in Committee at the time), and took the chair. The assassin
was led up to the table between two of the officers of the House. General Gascoigne, the
member for Liverpool, identified him as John Bellingham; the Shaker detained him till a
responding tablet
tlw? opposite (Call mark
A TABLET IS ST. STEPHEN'S BALL,
T» enabl* rUiton to locate the poinU of interest in the old building.
THE SPEAKER'S PKOCESSIOS.
A ttately function nhich i> a daily prelude to the titling of the Houje of Commons. As the procession proceeds through the Lobby all heads are
bared in token of respect.
83
Parliament Past and Present
Middlesex magistrate was obtainable, and then liad him escorted, under a strong guard of
memU-rs, to tin- prison r«t mi of tin- S-rgeant-at-Arms." '
The murderer proved t.i In- tin- son of a Huntingdonshire land surveyor, who had lifcii in
fontinemeiit as a lunatic, and lind died insane. Hellingham. there is little doulit. was himself
mail. hut. as Ixomilly put it at the time, his was "a >pecies of madnev which probably, for
• -runty of mankind, ought not to exempt u man from being answerable for his actions.''
The only conceivable motive for the crime \\;i» a grudge against 1'erceval because lie would
not interfere to secure BeUinghatn'l release from prison in Russia, where lie was incarcerated
for five vears for deht. Insine or not. however, the a--:is-in received short shrift. It so
hap]H-ned that the assi/es were being h,.!d at the time, and advantage was taken of the circum-
stance to bring him t«i immediate trial. Within seven days of the commission of the crime
his Unly was swinging from the gallows.
This tragic atViir. it should he stated for the sake of clearness, took place in the I/>bhy of
the old House, and. therefore, at a s]K>t near the western end of St. Stephen's Hall. A tahlet.
to lie found there gives the exact limits of the old Lobby, and also indicates the position of
the door from which it was entered from West minster Hall by Perceval on the fatal dav.
The present I/ihhy, though it can hoast no old associations and has no dark episode to
Main its history, is yet not without its own special features of interest. During the great
struggle over the quest ion of Mr. Kradlatigh's
admission to the House it was the scene of some
lively encounters between the officers of the Mouse
and the pugnacious champion of heter.»|ox\.
About the same period it was often in a ferment
of excitement over the differences, public and
private, arising out of the Home Kule debates.
Feeling ran so high at tinr.-s that it was only
by the good offices of peacemaker! and the dis-
creet management of the officials that breaches
of the i>eace did not occur. These, however,
were but transitory ebullitions. The prevailing
mood of the Lobby is a cynical good-humour,
which as a rule rises altogether superior to the
mere spirit of faction. Nothing is commoner
than to see members engaged one hour in the
most heated altercation across the floor of
the House and the next exchanging banter in
the best of temper in the Lobby on the inci-
dent - of the debate. There is amongst mendier*
a pleasing spirit of camaraderie which knows
no distinctions of rank or divisions of politic-;
and nowhere is it more manifest than in the
Lobby. Here the stern, unbending Tory of the
old school may be seen arm-in-arm with the
most uncompromising of Radicals ; here we m iv
find the scion of a noble house which has
possessed the strawberry leaves for general ion.-
hobnobbing with the Laliour member who perchance was only a few years previously earning
his living a> a working miner; here, not improbably, you mav come across an i/ilrn iixiyi'niit
Nationalist cheek by jowl with some fanatical Orangeman on a matter of business routine.
Nor an- the amenities of the Lobby confined to mere trivial courtesies. When Mr. Mradlaugh.
after many rebuffs and humiliations, got his Oaths Bill through the House, the man to first
1 "The Life of the Hon. H|K-nccr I'erceva!," p. •.".»•;.
THK DOOB OF THK HofSK OK COMMONS BY WHICH Till:
LEGISLATIVE: CIIAMISKH is ENTKKKD FKOM THK LOBBY.
On weh >lde are curioiu hooded doorkee|i«»' bora.
The Lobby
CORRIDOR FROM COMMONS LOBBY
TO CONFERENCE ROOM.
offer him his congratulations was Sir John Mowbray,
the late venerable member for Oxford University and
" Father " of the House. Similarly, when Mr. Parnell
vindicated himself from the charge of writing the
notorious Pigott letters, it was the late Sir Walter
Barttelot, an old and highly respected Conservative
member, who broke down the barrier of suspicion
which existed between the Uncrowned King and his
brother members by cordially felicitating him upon
unmasking his slanderers. These are but typical
instances of the temper and feeling which govern the
relations of members in this ante-chamber of the House.
It is, indeed, only on very rare occasions that the
angry passions which provoke tempestuous outbursts in
the J louse find their echo here.
Politically, the Lobby is important as the head-
quarters of the Whips of the various parties. Night
in. night out, these vigilant guardians of the party
interests keep watch and ward. No one goes out
unchallenged. It would, in fact, be as easy for a
camel to pass through the eye of a needle as for a
member to come in or go out unobserved. As the
hour approaches for a division the Lobby fills up, and in process of time it becomes a seething
mass of humanity. Then the bells tinkle, and stentorian cries of "Division" are sent echoing
and re-echoing through the corridors, until they finally lose themselves in one expiring shriek
in New Palace Yard. Members pour in from the smoking-rooms and libraries to swell the
crowd which is massed about the principal door like a swarm of bees about a hive. There
is a confused hum of conversation, growing less every minute until it finally dies away, and
the Lobby is left in solitude save for the officials and police and a stray journalist or two.
Shortly the order to " Clear the Lobby " is given through the wicket of the now locked
door of the Legislative Chamber, the "strangers" are bundled out into the corridors, and the
Lobby becomes even more deserted. But only for a time. Gradually the members filter
back from the House, and in perhaps fifteen minutes' time the place is as thronged as ever
again. Soon the doors are unlocked, strangers readmitted, and the life of the Lobby drops
into its accustomed groove.
Before leaving the Lobby a reference must be made to it as a centre of journalistic
activity. Time was, as we have seen, when every one who cared to take the trouble to walk
to St. Stephen's could enter the precincts. Even down to comparatively recent times, nothing
more than a little self-confidence was needed to carry one to the very door of the House. But
the dynamite outrages, amongst other things, worked a great and, on the whole, salutary change
in the conditions of the Lobby. The right of admission was strictly limited to representatives
of leading newspapers, the chief officials of leading political organisations, and private bill
agents and others interested in private bill legislation. Unless on this "Lobby List," it is
impossible for a person to penetrate the jealously guarded outer portals, much less to remain
for any time in the Lobby. In this fashion a great journalistic corporation has been built up,
which, though closely allied with the Press Gallery, is yet completely distinct from it. It has
its own committee of management, its own rooms for writing, and its own rules of conduct.
According as the times are lively or the reverse, its importance increases or diminishes ; but
it ever gives to the Lobby a characteristic feature.
i HAITI-: it ix.
LADIES AT 7Y//; HOUSE.
"LADIES at the House" there have Iteen in one diameter or another almost from time
immemorial. As we have already seen, they were pre-cnt at one period as legislators, or, at
all events, had the right to l>e present. It is also fairly certain that as attendants on the
Court many dames of high ln'rtli |>artici|>atcd in the ceremonial functions which accompanied the
sittings of Parliament under the j (residency of the King. Occasionally, too, they would appear
to have played what in these days we should consider a popular part in the doings of the
Legislature. So much i- tn
be gathered from a refer-
ence contained in the works
of John Stow to a singular
incident which occurred in
the Parliament of 1428.
According to this old
chronicler, on a certain
day while Parliament was
sitting, "one Mi-n,—
Stokes, with divers other
stout women of Ixmdon,
of good account and well
apparelled," went "oi«'idy
to the Upper House of
Parliament and delivered
letters to the Duke of
Gloucester, to the Arch-
bishops, and the other
lords, because he would
not deliver his wife Jaque-
line out of her grievous
imprisonment (she being
then detained as prisoner
by the Duke of Burgundy),
and suffering her there to
remain unkindly whilst he
kept another adult iv>~.
contrary to the law of
God and the honourable
estate of matrimony."
These early advocates of
women's rights, the tir.-t
of a long line of fair re-
formers who have invaded
A MKIll.KY.M. KI'ISDDK IX PARLIAMENT. .
\~3tj i»tiUon.™»tutKl.t th.lloM.ofIx.nl. in 14M to demand the rtlew, of th. wife of th. Duk. legislative precincts to
..f <;kmoMtcr, deUlned M a prUooer in France. redress t he \vn ill i,r- <>f their
80
Ladies at the House
87
sex, seem to have created no
small sensation, and from the
fact that the Commons ventured
to espouse the cause of the
unfortunate Jaqueline, we may
infer that their remonstrance
had some effect. The course
taken by the " Nether House "
was to cunningly tack to a
subsidy granted to the Duke of
Gloucester a petition in favour
of the Duchess. This document
in quaint language sets forth
that " My Lady of Gloucester
liveth in so grete dolour and
hevyness and hath so lament-
ably written to our Soverein
Lord and to all the Estate of
this noble Koiaume to be pour-
veyded for by way of tretee or
in otherwise by the high wis-
dom of our Soverein Lord and
the habundant discretion of the
Lords of his Counseill," that
the Commons were constrained
to ask "that her person and
the alliance between this noble
Koiaume and her lands " might
" be put in salvetee and sicker-
nesse in singular comfort of
the said Commons and of all
that they byn comyn for."
History is silent as to the
outcome of this intervention ;
but for the sake of common
humanity we may trust that
" Mistress Stokes " and her
sturdy following of matrons " of
good account and well apparelled " did not make their journey to Westminster in vain.
In the episode just described we have seen ladies at the door of Parliament, practically
in the Lobby, clamouring for justice to one of their sex. Between two and three centuries later
we meet with a lady in Parliament itself in the somewhat different role of a suitor at the
Bar of the House of Commons, one of many fair petitioners of that period. The applicant
was Ann Fitzharris, widow of a certain Edward Fitzharris, who was executed in 1681 on
political grounds. Her story, which was embodied in a petition she personally presented to
the House on March 16th, 1688, was a strange one. It was to the effect that her husband
had been prevailed upon seven years previously by the Popish interest to frame " a treasonable
libel to be laid on the Protestants, and being seized in the attempts " was betrayed by his
employers, who, fearful of being known, sacrificed him to conceal their own guilt. Tried before
a prejudiced Bench and a packed jury, he was condemned to death and executed. As a
consequence the petitioner and her three children were left in great distress, and she therefore
prayed the House "to take the whole matter into their consideration, that the deplorable
A LAUl' I'ETITIOXEK AT THE BAK OF TUE HOUSE IN 1088.
Widow Fitzharris pleading for support in her distress caused by the unjust execution of her
huaband.
88
Parliament Past and Present
THE DUCHESS OF GORDON,
A famous eighteenth-century Iteautjr who once appeared in the
Strangers' Gallery of the House of Commons in male attire.
condition of herself should l)e considered." The
prayer of t hf petition wa» answered. ( hi May 15th
a Committee was apiHiinted. and it subsequently
conducted an ime.-tigation into the circiim>tanre-
of tin- trial. In the result a recommendation
was made that the petitioner and her three
cliildren should he commended to the King "as
an object of charity." Thereafter, Ann Kitx-
liarris figures no more upon the Parliamentary
stage, though her case supplies one of the mo>t
interesting precedents in constitutional text-books.
Not long before this singular business en-
gaged the attention of the ll«m.-e of Commons —
to be precise on June 1st, 1675 — the presence
of ladies a?- spectators in the Legislative Chamber
had been made a subject of public comment.
The incident arose in this way. There was a
debate proceeding on some question of interot.
when the Speaker (Seymour) suddenly broke in
with the remark, "I am sure I saw petticoats."
The amused House, as eager then as it is to-day
lor anything in the nature of a "scene," broke
off its business to look at the throng of ladies
who crowded the back benches of the Strangers'
Gallery and were peering over the shoulders of
the gentlemen in front of them at the members on the floor of the House. " What borough
do these ladies sit for?" inquired the Speaker in tones of mock severity. "They serve for
the Speaker's Chamber," jerked out a Parliamentary wit of the time. " The Speaker might
take them for gentlemen with fine sleeves dressed like ladies," remarked another jester. And
so, laughing at its own humour, the House betook itself anew to the business of the day.
This curious little interlude gives us an interesting insight into the attitude of the House
two centuries ago towards fair visitors in the legislative precincts. We may gather from it
that though ladies were denied admission they did occasionally find their way in, and that, once
in, their presence did not excite the feelings of amaxement — it may be said of horror — which
the appearance of a female figure inside the Legislative Chamber would now arouse. The
truth is that, progressive as Parliament has been in most things, in its attitude towards ladies
it has in many respects retrograded. If it were now even so much as proposed that male
and female visitors should sit together in the Strangers' Galleries, the House would be in
a ferment of indignation; yet for generations the two sexes mingled as spectators of the
debates. Nor was the attendance of ladies of a casual or intermittent description, at least
during a considerable period. Proof of this is to be found in the gossipy records of the
eighteenth century, where numerous references are made to the part the " ladies of quality "
played in the doings at St. Stephen's. Here, for example, is what one well-known lady had
to say in a letter to a friend written in February, 1762: "In the House of Commons every-
body who can articulate is a speaker, to the great, despatch of business and solidity of councils.
They sit late every night, as every young gentleman who has a handsome person, a fine coat,
a well-shaped leg, or a clear voice, is anxious to exhibit these ml vantages. To this kind of
beau-oratory and tea-table talk the ladies, as is reasonable, resort very constantly. At fir>t
they attended in such numbers as to fill the body of the House on great political occasions;
but a ghost (the Cock Lane) started up in a dirty obscure alley in the City, and diverted the
attention of the female politicians."
From this it is pretty clear not merely that ladies had admission to the public galleries,
Ladies at the House
89
but that they actually occupied seats by the side of members on the sacred floor, of the House.
How this system of uncontrolled freedom was ultimately abandoned in favour of absolute
exclusion, is an oft-told tale. It came about through a display of fractiousness on the
part of the ladies, which constitutes one of the most diverting episodes that ever occurred in
Parliament. The facts are worth relating. A great debate on the state of the nation, on
February 2nd, 1778, had drawn to £t. Stephen's an exceptionally large number of ladies.
Not content with crowding the galleries, they trespassed upon some seats under the front
gallery, from which they were customarily excluded. A bluff naval captain, who was a member
of the House, incensed at the practical monopoly of the strangers' benches by the fair sex.
and the consequent exclusion of several of his male friends, drew attention to the presence of
strangers, with the result that the order was issued for the clearing of the galleries. It was
easier to give this order than to execute it. The ladies, having come to the House for an
evening's amusement, were not to be easily denied. With one consent they turned a deaf ear
to the commands of the House. In vain the officials implored and threatened in turn. The
ladies absolutely declined to move. Nor was their defiance of a merely passive character.
They laughed and stamped and jeered, and generally conducted themselves with a licence
which, in these times, we should only look for in the gallery of an East End theatre. The
authorities were in despair. They could not use force, and, on the other hand, it was
impossible to permit the mandate of the House to be flouted. In their difficulty they adopted
the only course open to them. They opposed obstinacy to obstinacy, and so in the long run
carried their point. But it was a
full two hours before the skirts of
the last of the ladies disappeared
through the doorway of the House.
Afterwards, so rigorous was the ban
against the ladies, that Mrs. Sheridan
was driven to the expedient of
donning male attire in order to secure
the opportunity of hearing her
husband's eloquence. Wraxall also
mentions in his " Memoirs " having
seen on one occasion the beautiful
Duchess of Gordon in male attire in
the Strangers' Gallery.
There must have been some-
thing in the atmosphere of the
Palace of Westminster in those days
which tended to lawlessness amongst
the fair sex, for the scene described
was no isolated incident. Lady Mary
Wortley Montagu, in her letters,
describes in her own vivacious fashion
a somewhat similar outburst which
occurred about the year 1738 in the
"other House." "The ladies," she
wrote, "have shown their zeal and
appetite for knowledge in a most
glorious manner. At the last warm
debate in the House of Ix>rds it was
unanimously resolved there should
» , From tht Rational Portrait Gallery.
be no crowd of unnecessary auditors. THE DUCHES8 OF QDEENSBERKY (AS A MILKMAID),
Consequently, the fair sex Were A noted beanty and political dame of the eighteenth century.
12
Parliament Past and Present
excluded, and the gallery destined to the sole use of the House of Commons. Notwithstanding
which determination a tribe of ladies resolved to show on this occasion that neither men nor
laws could resist them. These heroines were Lady Huntingdon, the Duchess of Queensberry, the
Duchetw of Ancajiter, I^ady Westmorland, Jjidy Cobham, l^uly Charlotte Edwin, Lady Archibald
Hamilton and her daughter, Mrs. Scott, and Mrs. Pendarvis, and Lady Frnnci* Saunderson.
I am thus jmrticular in their names since I look upon them to be the boldest assert ors and
most resigned sufferers for liberty I ever read of. They presented themselves at the door at
nine o'clock in the morning, where Sir William Saunderson respectfully informed them the
Chancellor had made an order against their admittance. The Duchess of Queensberry, as head
of the squadron, pished at the ill breeding of a mere lawyer, and desired him to let them up
the stairs privately. After some modest refusals, he swore by G — d he would not let them in.
Her Grace, with a noble warmth, answered, ' By G — d they would come in, in spite of the
Chancellor and the whole House.' This being reported, the Peers resolved to starve them out.
An order was made that the door should not be opened until they had raised their siege.
These amazons now showed themselves qualified even for the duty of foot-soldiers. They
stood there till five in the afternoon without sustenance . . . every now and then playing
volleys of thumps, kicks, and raps against the door with so much violence that the speakers
in the House were scarce heard. When the Lords were not to be conquered by this, the
two duchesses (very well apprised of the use of stratagems in war) commanded a dead
silence of half an hour, and the Chancellor, who thought this a certain proof of their
absence (the Commons also being very impatient to enter), gave order for the opening of
the door, upon which they all rushed in, pushed aside their competitors, and placed themselves
in the front row of the gallery. They stayed there until after eleven, when the House rose,
and during the debate gave applause and showed marks of dislike, not only by smiles and
winks (which have always been allowed in these cases), but by noisy laugh and apparent
contempts (which is supposed the true reason why poor Lord Hervey spoke so miserably)."
On another occasion, a good many years
later, the peeresses appear to have again distin-
guished themselves by their lack of restraint in
the House. The incident relates to the debates
on Catholic Emancipation, and is recorded in the
following entry in Greville's Diary, under date
April 4th, 1829: "The House of lx>rds was very
full, particularly of women ; every fool in London
thinks it necessary to be there. It is only since
last year that the steps of the throne have been
crowded with ladies ; formerly one or two got in,
who skulked behind the throne or were hid in
Tyrwhitt's (the Black Rod) box, but now they
fill the space and put themselves in front with
their large bonnets without fear or shame. . . .
Lady Jersey is in a fury with Lord Angle>ev.
and goes about saying he insulted her in the
House of Lords the other night. She was sitting
on one of the steps of the throne, and the
Duchess of Richmond on the step above. Alter
Ix>rd Anglesey had spoken he came and spoke
to the Duchess, who said, ' How well you did
speak ! ' on which he said, ' Hush ! you must
take care what you say, for here is Lady Jersey,
and she reports for the newspapers ' ; on which
ludy Jersey said very angrily, ' Lady Jersey is
TIIK OLD HOUSE OF COMMONS,
Snowing tentiUlor In ceiling through which ladle* riewed the
llouw.
A SCENE OUTSIDE THE HOUSE OF LORDS IN 1738.
Aristocratic ladies clamouring for admission after they had been excluded by an order of the House.
91
Parliament Past and Present
here fcr her own amusement ; what do you mean
by re|»rting for new*i«i>eni ? ' to which he replied
with a profound Km. 'I beg your ladyship's
]mrd«>n ; I did not mean to offend you, and if 1
did I make the most ample apology.' This is
his version ; here, of course, is different."
To these lively incidents, and others of a
similar character which have not been handed
down to us is probably to be attributed the
strong prejudice which grew up against the
admission of ladies to the House of Commons-
a prejudice which in a modified form survives to
this day. Whether so or not, the effect of the
scene in the House of Commons to which
reference has been made resulted in the banish-
ment of ladies from the chamber for more than
half a century. For a time they were kept
absolutely at arm's length, but eventually, as a
great concession, they were admitted to the
lantern alwve the big chandelier which lighted
the old House. This was a miserable exchange
for the freedom formerly enjoyed. Not more
than fourteen could be accommodated there at
one time, and the smoke and heat rendered the
atmosphere almost insufferable. Miss Edgeworth,
in her memoirs, gives an entertaining description
of a visit to this dog-hole in 1822. "We went,"
she says, "one night to the House of Commons.
Mr. Whitbread took us there. A garret — the
win ile size of the room — the former chapel, now
the House of Commons; below kit-cats of Gothic
chapel windows stopped up appear on each side ;
above the floor, and above roof-beams. One lantern, with one farthing candle, all the light.
In tin- middle of the garret is what seemed like a sentry-box of deal boards, and old chairs
placed around it; on these we got and stood, and peeped over the top of the boards. Saw
lurire chandelier with lights blazing immediately below; a grating of iron across veiled the
light so that we could look down and beyond it. We saw half the table and the mace Iving
mi it. and pajK'rs, and by peeping hard two figures of clubs at the farther end; but no eye
could see the Speaker or his chair — only his feet; his voice and terrible 'Order' was soon
heard. We could see part of the Treasury Bench and the Opposition in their places — the tops
of their heads, profiles and gestures perfectly."
Such was the position of affairs from the end of the eighteenth century until the fire
of 1834, which changed many things, brought to the front the desirability of making adequate
provision for ladies within the chamber itself. The question was referred for consideration to
a Select Committee, and this body, in July, 1835, reported in favour of an extension of
privileges to the fair sex. Its chief recommendations were : —
"That a jwrtion of the Strangers' Gallery at the north end of the House, not exceeding a
quarter of the whole, and capable of containing twenty-four ladies, be set apart for their
accommodation, divided by a partition from the rest of the gallery, and screened in front by
an ojien trellis work.
"That a book should be left in the custody of some person appointed by the Sergeant-at-
Arms, in a place made for the purpose at the door of the entrance of the proposed gallery.
01 TSIIIK I:NTKANCE TO LADIES' GALLEBY or ri:i.>i.vr
HOUSE.
The policeman on duty closely scrutinise* nil urden for adn.iuion
Ladies at the House
93
" That no member be allowed to introduce more than two ladies in the course of one week,
unless the gallery should not be fully occupied.
"That the gallery so proposed to be set apart be called the Ladies' Gallery, and be left
exclusively for their accommodation."
These proposals, it should be stated, related to the temporary House of Commons constructed
in the late House of Lords (or old Court of Requests) after the fire, to accommodate the
lower branch of the Legislature pending the construction of the new building. The Select
Committee, however, deemed that their reference was sufficiently wide to enable them to deal
with the question permanently, and they consequently added to their recommendations one in
favour of the construction of a Ladies' Gallery in the new House, capable of accommodating not
less than forty ladies. This suggestion of the Select Committee was not carried out without
strenuous opposition from several quarters. Lord Brougham, at a meeting of the Building
Committee, referring to the Ladies' Gallery, said : " If such a proposition is to be made, I enter
my protest against it, and shall take the sense of your lordships upon it, as being contrary to
the principle which ought to govern legislative proceedings. I think the ladies would be better
employed in almost any other way than in attending Parliamentary debates. I like to see
them in their proper places." The Marquis of Lansdowne was equally emphatic. " Ladies," he
said, " are not mentioned in the report, and, so far as I can prevent it, they never shall be."
Notwithstanding these ungallant sentiments the ladies, as we know, had their gallery in
the new House, though the restrictions in regard to its limits were a sore point with the
architect, who, if he had been free, would have dealt with the question on much more generous
lines. In the interval of a half-century which has elapsed since the gallery was opened, the
position of ladies at the House has been enormously strengthened. The obnoxious grille, it is
true, has resisted all efforts to either displace it or materially modify it. But, on the other
hand, fair visitors have asserted themselves in other directions in such a fashion as would have
THE PRESENT HOUSE OP COMMONS, SHOWING LADIES' GKILLE ABOVE THE REPORTERS1 GALLERY.
Ladies, besides being accommodated with seats in the gallery behind the grille, nre permitted to view the House when sitting from a stand
just ouUide the entrance opposite the Speaker's chair.
94
Parliament Past and Present
'1 H i; TKICKAt I.; Al I I.KNl M i.S '1 LA.
On most afternoon* in summer this fine promenade is crowded with ladies haying tea with members.
delighted the aristocratic amazons of whom Lady Mary Wortley Montagu writes so amusingly
in the extract quoted above. In the Lobby they are ever much in evidence, and they have
special provision made for them in the arrangements of the dining-rooms. But, of course, their
special province is the Terrace. That noble promenade has become as recognised a rendezvous
of society as the Lawn at Ascot or the Ladies' Mile in Hyde Park. The Terrace season reaches
its height when the summer days are long and warm, and the strawberry is at its best. Then
fair constituents of members resort there in their hundreds, and the gayest of gay scenes is
presented. Imagine the long promenade crowded throughout a great part of its length with
ladies dressed in the height of fashion, some seated at tables with huge mounds of straw-
berries and cakes before them. Imagine a line of members, young and old, lining the Terrace
wall and viewing with undisguised interest the scene as they discuss their cigars and cigarettes.
Imagine, further, a sparsely occupied expanse of Terrace at one end, heavily barricaded from
the remainder and further protected by the legend " For Members only," and you will have
some notion of what the Terrace is like in high summer. Members at this place and at these
times seem to find their duties sit lightly upon them. But it is merely appearance. Immediately
the division bells ring, and the stentorian tones of the police constables on duty announce that
a division has been called, there is a scamper on their part for the door. Gradually the
company thins out, until the ladies are left in almost exclusive occupation of the promenade.
The desertion of them, however, is but temporary. The return movement soon sets in, and
before the night is much further advanced parties are being formed for that most delightful of
experiences, a dinner at the House. The sun has gone down, and a myriad lights sparkle on
the surface of the great river as it flows by, carrying on its bosom some belated barge which is
taking advantage of the bright summer night to get to the end of its journey. From the bridge
which s]«m> the river at the extreme end of the Terrace comes in a soft murmur the noise of
the ceaseless traffic, and now and again the sounds of merry laughter float across the waterway
from the Embankment opposite. Fashionable London has many brilliant things to offer its
votaries, but none more interesting than an evening such as we have described on the Terrace.
CHAPTER X.
MEMORIES OF ST. STEPHEN'S (Continued)— THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
AFTER our somewhat long digression to elucidate some of the lighter aspects of Parliamentary
life, we may resume our survey of the stage of old St. Stephen's. When we left Parliament
it had emerged from the troubled waters of the Revolutionary period and well embarked
upon a career of constitutional progress. The promise of peaceful times was not belied.
In fact, nothing hardly could be more striking than the contrast between the Parliamentary
history of the seventeenth and that of the eighteenth century. One was pre-eminently a
period of action : the other was as distinctively an era of talk — brilliant, weighty, enthralling
declamation, but still talk. The change was a natural outcome of the events of the Rebellion
and of the Revolution, which had left the Constitution so clearly and rigidly denned, and
had placed in the hands of
Parliament such wide power, that
serious disputes with the Crown
of the old type had been
rendered almost impossible. The
growth of the party system pro-
moted the development. Oratory,
which had hitherto played but
an occasional part in the routine
work of Parliament, now had its
place as a regular and indis-
pensable feature of the machinery
of administration. It was the
touchstone of popularity, and in
process of time became the test
of statesmanship.
In the Parliamentary annals
of the earliest years of the
century, the names which most
command attention are those of
Robert Harley, Earl of Oxford,
and Henry St. John, Lord Bol-
ingbroke. The two men were
closely associated in political
work for a good many years,
but they were singularly unlike.
Harley lacked most of the
qualities essential in a Parlia-
mentary leader. "To the end
of his life," says Macaulav, " he
_.._ -I j- , .". ..
remained a tedious, hesitating,
and Confused sneakor HP ha/1
Speaker.
Fran the painting by Sir 0. KnMer in the Jfalional Portrait
ROBERT HARLEY, EARL OF OXFORD,
The well-known statesman of the reign of Queen Anne, impeached for treason and
acquitted in the reign of George I.
95
Parliament Past and Present
OPENING OF PARLIAMENT BY QCEEN ANNE.
A curious Dutch picture, in which the artist has allowed himself considerable licence.
none of the external graces of an orator. His countenance was heavy, his figure mean
and somewhat deformed, and his gestures uncouth." St. John, on the other hand, was a
profoundly eloquent speaker, endowed with personal graces which gave him remarkable
ascendancy in the House of Commons. Unfortunately, of his brilliant oratory only the
tradition survives. Professional Parliamentary reporting in any form was unknown in his
day, and there were no amateurs, like the industrious D'Ewes of an earlier generation, to
help to supply the deficiency. Hence we have to take his gifts as a speaker on trust ; but
that his reputation was not undeserved is shown by the extraordinary impression he created
by his speeches. Brougham says that it was the contemplation of the chasm in the records
of the Parliamentary debates of the earlier part of the seventeenth century that "made
Mr. Pitt, when musing upon its brink, and calling to mind all that might be fancied of the
orator from the author, and all that traditional testimony had handed down to us, sigh after
a speech of Bolingbroke — desiderating it far more than all that has perished of the treasures
of the ancient world. '
These two men between them ruled the House of Commons during the reign of Queen Anne,
the one by the virtue of the supreme quality of tact, and the other by his personal gifts and eloquence.
They shared a common fate when, on the elections to the first Parliament of George I., the Whigs
came into power with an immense majority. Impeached at the Bar of the House for their conduct
of the negotiations for peace with France, Oxford was committed to the Tower, there to languish
for some years, while Bolingbroke escaped a like fate by fleeing to the Continent, to commence
a long life of exile. Two other eminent names that are identified with this period are those of
Addison and Steele, the brilliant essayists. Equally gifted as writers, they contrasted strikingly as
HENRY ST JOHN. VISCOUNT BOLINGBROKE.
Brillum and crraiii Sijirsnun jnd Author, wluiM- speeches in ihc I'jrli.munf. n! Qiax-n Anne arc said in have
Kin .imon^si tin moM iltHjuun c\ir dilivtrcd in ihc HOUM; nf (Commons.
Memories of St. Stephen's — The Eighteenth Century 97
speakers. Addison is believed to
have made but one speech in the
whole of his Parliamentary career.
That was when he sat in the Irish
Parliament as member for Cavan in
1709. The effort was a comical
failure. " On a motion before the
House," says an Irish writer, " Addison
rose, and having said ' Mr. Speaker,
I conceive,' paused, as if frightened
by the sound of his own voice. He
again commenced : ' I conceive, Mr.
Speaker,' when he stopped, until
roused by cries of ' Hear ! hear ! '
when he once more essayed with
' Sir, I conceive.' Power of further
utterance was denied, so he sat down
amidst the scarce suppressed laughter
of his brother members, which soon
burst forth when a witty senator
said : ' Sir, the honourable gentleman
has just conceis'ed three times, and
brought forth nothing.'" Steele, on
the other hand, had oratorical qualities
which would have brought him fame
quite independent of his writings.
He was witty and endowed in a high
degree with the power of good-
humoured badinage, so effective in
a popular chamber. One of the best
remembered of his sallies is his
description of the House of Commons on the accession of George I. as a body " consisting very
much of silent people oppressed by the choice of a great deal to say, and of eloquent people
ignorant that what they said was nothing to the purpose."
His first essay in the role of a legislator was, however, unpromising. Entering Parliament
in 1714, he felt constrained on the opening day of the session — February 14th— to raise
his voice in condemnation of the Bill of Commerce between Great Britain and France,
which was then a burning political question. He described the measure as "most pernicious,"
and referring to Sir Thomas Hanmer, whose influence had secured the rejection of the scheme
in the previous session, said : " I rise up to do him honour and distinguish myself by giving
him iny vote for that his inestimable service to his country." The remarks were like a red
rag to a bull in the Tory House of Commons ir> which he found himself. But the reception
given to his remarks is best described by Steele himself in his "Vindication." "It will be
impossible," he wrote, "for the reader to conceive how this speech of his was received, except
he has happened to have been at a cock-match, and seen the triumph and exaltation which
is raised when a volatile, whose fall was some way gainful to part of the company, has been
necked. At the mention of the Bill of Commerce the cry began : at calling it increased : at
the words ' do him honour ' it grew insupportably loud ; but having no reason for being
confounded for other people's folly or absurdity, Mr. Steele bore the insolence well enough
to speak out what he intended. He had hardiness enough to do it, from a resolution which
he had taken to govern himself by when he went into the House, which was to prefer the
fame of an honest man to that of an orator. . . . Mr. Steele does not attribute this particular
13
From the fattoul rortmit Gallery.
JOSEPH ADDISON,
Kaajut and »UUwman, Secretary of State in the reijm of George I.
Parliament Past and Present
outrage to the House any further than t hoy ought to have suppressed it, and severely obsem-d
upon it by fuming out the unVii(l<-i>. who. it is supposed, were a jmrcol of rustics who crowded
in with tlw memU-rs In-fore tlio i-l.vtic.ii of tin- Shaker, from a received error that there i~ m.
authority in the House till In- is cho-.-n. As he came out of the llmi>e lie coulil hear nothing
but tho«» luiiil critics talking to one another: 'Oh! it is not so easy a thing to speak in the
House.' -He fancies Ix-cause he can scribble,' and the like deep animadversions."
Stifle was not long allowed to enjoy e\en the re.-tricted measure of his triuinjih meted
out tn him on his ilehut in St. Stephen's. Alni"-t immediately a charge was concocted against
him of writing a libel on the MiniMry in a pamphlet with the title of "The Crisis." Brought to
the l!ar, with Sir h'ohert \\'al]i»le and (i.-neral Staiihoi)p, the Whig leaders, to support him and aid
him with advice, Steele. air«r<ling to one of his auditors, spoke for nearly three hours "with sin-h
ti-iii|nT. eloquence, and unconceni as gave en tire satisfaction to all who were not prepossessed again.-t
him." The inipre»ion in his favour was strengthened by a singular incident recorded in Kusfer's
eway on Steele. Ixird Finch, who owed gnititude to Steele for having repelled in the Gua.r<lin ,/
a libel on his sister, got up to make a maiden speech in defence of his defender. "But bashfulnos
urn- him. and after a few sentences lie sit down, crying out as he did so, 'It is strange I
cannot sjK>ak for this man, though I could readily fight for him ! ' Upon this such cheering ran;,'
through the H»u>e that Middenly the young lord took heart, rose again, and made the ti
a long series of able and telling speeches." Of course, however (adds Forster). it did not
Steele. who was expelled by a majority of nearly a hundred in a House of four hundred memhers.
Steele was subsequently again returned to Parliament, and amid more congenial surround int,r>
made a considerable reputation as a speaker.
The great dominating j>ersonality in the House of Commons in the early half of the eighteenth
century was that of Sir Kobert Walpole. From the year 1702, when he was returned for Kind's
Lynn, until 1742, when he retired frmn
public life, he filled a conspicuous place in
the assembly at St. Stephen's. Fir-t of
Prime Ministers in the sense that we under-
stand the term, he held that office un-
interruptedly for twenty-one years — a record
that has never since been broken. I'nder
his aegis the modern system of responsible
government was built up. Recognising the
changed conditions brought about bv i
limitations placed upon the power of
the Crown, he skilfully evolved out of tin-
materials to his hand a machinery of ad-
ministration the motive force of which was
a party majority maintained in the Hoii>e
by the manipulation of the const it uein
with the aid of agencies not always legiti-
mate. The Cabinet, though not of his
creation, owes its present character largely
to him. By his resignation in 17-12. after
the adverse vote on the Chippenham election
]x-tition. he established the important principle
that a Minister who has lost the sup]M>rt of
the House of Commons must no longer hold
office. With all his faults, and they \\.-re
limn v. he was undoubtedly a great st«t
^ man, who deserves to be held in honour l,v
TU brilliant wit. oothor, tod |»litlcUn, who wu expelled from the Uonx
of Common* for Mi « ritingi in 17H. U1S Countrymen.
100
Parliament Past and Present
Walpole's qualities were of a diverse order. A great writer, an accomplished scholar, and
a clever financier, he combined in his prr-mi the leading attainments which make for success
as a ]<o]>ular administrator. But the true secret of his jwwer i.s to be looked for in his
l>rofound insight into human character. The cynical remark popularly attributed to him — "All
men have their price" — was never uttered by him in that sweeping form, but it repn-M-nts
not inaccurately his attitude of mind towards those with whom he had to deal. "A jKitriot,
sir!" he exclaimed in his speech in vindication of his policy in 1741; "why. patriots
spring up like mushrooms. I could raise fifty of them within the four and twenty hours.
I have raised many of them in one night. It is but refusing to gratify an unreasonable
or an insolent demand, and up starts a jmtriot ! " This cynicism of temperament was
constitutional. Dealing with a corrupt and venal crew in an age of extraordinary laxity in
public morals, he could not believe it possible that men acted from disinterested motives.
Pope makes allusion to this foible of his in these lines :
Seen him I have, but in his happier hoar
Of social pleasure, ill exchanged for power;
Seen him unencumbered with the venal tribe,
Smile without art, and win without a bribe.
Would be oblige me? let me only find
Hecdoes not think me what he thinks mankind.
Inseparably associated with Walpole's Parliamentary career was that of his great rival
William Pulteney. The Titanic oratorical combats between the two leaders remain, after the
lapse of close upon two centuries,
amongst the greatest of Parliament
tary traditions. Pulteney's powers
as a debater were vividly sketched
by Speaker On slow, who had the
best opportunity of forming an
opinion upon them. Pulteney had,
he said, " the most popular parts
for public speaking that I ever
knew ; animating every subject of
popularity with the spirit of fire
that the orators of the ancient
commonwealths governed the people
by ; was as classical and eloquent
in the speeches he did not prepare
as they were in the most studied
compositions ; mingling wit and
pleasantry, and the application even
of little stories, so properly to affect
his hearers that he would overset
the best argumentation in the world,
and win people over to his side,
often against their own convictions,
by making ridiculous the truths
they were influenced by before, and
making some men to be afraid and
ashamed of being thought within
the meaning of some bitter ex-
pression of his, or within the laugh
SIB BOUGHT WALPOLE, tlmt generally went through the town
Th« grwt lUtaanu, who WM Prim* MinUter for twentj-one maxmive jeut. at any memorable stroke of his Wl't."
Memories of St. Stephen's — The Eighteenth Century 1O1
From an engraving of tht painting by Hogarth and Sir Jamct ThornhilL
THE HOUSE OP COMMONS IN SIR ROBEBT WALPOLE'S ADMINISTRATION.
The Right HOD. Arthor On»!ow U in the chmir, Sir Robert Walpole at his right hand. He is shown wearing the bine Ritand of the Order of the Garter.
One of the most remarkable of the conflicts of the two Parliamentary gladiators was over
Walpole's famous Excise Bill in 1733. The measure was received with extreme hostility in
the City, and Pulteney and his associates, recognising their opportunity, did their utmost,
with unbounded success, to fan the flames of public discontent. In the debate Windham
compared Walpole to Empson and Dudley, " who had the misfortune to outlive their master,
but whose son, as soon as he came to the throne, took off both their heads " — an allusion
102
Parliament Past and Present
which was keenly enjoyed by
Frederick, Prince of Wales, a
hitter enemy of Walpole, who
occupied a seat under the gallery.
I'llltenev'.- own speech s[>arkled
with the peculiar humour of
which lie was master. \Valpole.
he said, had of late been mighty
bountiful and liberal in his
otl'ers to the public. "He has
been so gracious as to ask us
' Will you have a land tax of
two shillings in the pound, a
land tax of one shilling in the
pound, or will you have no land
tax at all ? Will you have your
debts paid? Will you have
them soon paid? Tell me but
what you want, let me but
know how you can be made
easy, and it shall be done for
you.' These are very generous
offers, but there is something so
very extraordinary, so farcical, in
them, that really I can hardly
mention them without laughing.
It puts me in mind of the story
of Sir Epicure Mammon in The Alchymist. He was gulled of his money by fine promises ;
he was promised the philosopher's stone, by which he was to get mountains of gold, and every-
thing else he could desire ; but all ended at last in some little thing for curing the itch."
Walpole was singularly puzzled by the allusion to Empson and Dudley in Windham's
speech, and had to refer to Sir Phillip Yorke, the Attorney-General, who sat beside him,
before he quite grasped who those historical characters were. His reply, however, lacked
nothing in effectiveness. He trusted that those present would think that it was very unjust
to draw any j«rallel between those notorious individuals and himself. If his character should
ever come to be like theirs, he would deserve their fate. "I know," he remarked, "that my
jwlitical and Ministerial life has by some gentlemen been long wished at an end ; but they
may ask their disappointed hearts how vain their wishes have been; and as for my natural
life, I have lived long enough to be easy about parting with it."
In the end Walpole carried his measure by a majority of sixty-one, in one of the fullest
Houses ever known. Popular excitement, which throughout had run exceedingly high during
the debates, reached boiling point when the result was known. The precincts of the Ilmi-,
were thronged with a howling mob—" sturdy beggars '' Waljwle contemptuously termed them
in a historic phrase— whose attitude was so menacing to Walpole as he went through
Westminster Hall to his carriage that only the prompt action of his companion, Henry Pelham,
who, drawing his sword, dared the rioters to attack, saved him from actual and personal violence.
After further debate and divisions, in which the majority steadily dwindled, Walpole discreetly
withdrew the Bill. He declared that he would never be the .Minister to enforce taxes at the
expense of blood.
Equability of temper was a marked characteristic of Walpole. Pulteney, in a conversation
with Dr. Johnson, once stated that his rival was of a temper so calm and equal, and so hard
to be provoked, that he was very sure he never felt the bitterest invectives against him for
'•THE ORIGIN AXD ESSENCE OF A GRAND EXCISE."
Satirical print mipgeiUd by the feraent over Walpole1* Excise Bill. The view shows
the entrance to the old HOOK of Commons, and repreeento Wal)>ole leaving the Uoune
exclaiming, "It uiu»t and aliall pau."
Memories ot St. Stephen's — The Eighteenth Century 103
from the painting by Sir J. Reynolds, P.R.A., in the National Portrait (iaUtry.
WILLIAM PULTEXEY, EARL OF BATH,
Walpole's great rival ; famed for his oratorical powers and his gift of brilliant repartee.
half an hour. Confirmation of this view of Walpole's character is to be found in the following
singular incident related by Coxe in his "Life of Walpole": "On P'ebruary llth, 1741, Sandys
informed Walpole in the House of Commons that he should on the following Friday bring an
accusation of several articles against him. The Minister, who received the accusation with
great dignity and composure, immediately arose, thanked him for his notice, and after
requesting a candid and impartial hearing, declared that he would not fail to attend the
House, as he was not conscious of any crime to deserve accusation. He laid his hand on his
breast, and said with some emotion: 'Xil conscire sib, nulli palascere culpse.' "
Pulteney observed that the right honourable gentleman's logic and Latin were equally
inaccurate, and declared he had misquoted Horace, who had written "nulla pallascere cutpa."
The Minister defended his quotation, and Pulteney repeating his assertion, he offered a wager
of a guinea. Pulteney accepted the challenge, and referred the decision of the dispute to the
Minister's friend, Nicholas Hardinge, Clerk of the House, a man distinguished for classical
104
Parliament Past and Present
Till: (il'INK.V I.n.-I IIY \VAI.I-OLE TO PV1.TKMY IN
A m-T MAIH: is TUK HOUSE.
erudition. Hardinge decided against Walpole ; the
guinea was immediately thrown to Pulteney, who
caught it, and holding it up to the House, ex-
claimed : " It is the only money I have received
from the Treasury for many years, and it shall be
the last." Pulteney carefully preserved the coin,
and it ultimately found its way to the Coin Room
of the British Museum, where it may now be seen,
with an inscription in the handwriting of Pulteney
setting forth the circumstances under which the
bet was made.1
A still more striking instance of Walpole's
imperturbability is mentioned by Horace Walpole in his "Reminiscences." "At the time of
the Preston rebellion," states this writer, "a Jacobite who sometimes furnished Sir Robert with
intelligence, sitting alone with him one night, suddenly put his hand into his bosom and,
rising, said: 'Why do not I kill you now?' Walpole, starting up, replied: 'Because I am
a younger man and a stronger.' They sat down again and discussed the person's information ;
but Sir Robert afterwards had reasons for thinking that the spy had no intention of
assassination, but had hoped to extract money from him."
The introduction of the resolution by ]\Ir. Sandys referred to above marked the beginning
of the end of Wai pole's career in the House of Commons. For some years before, the
.Minister's power had been undergoing a
process of disintegration. He had incurred
considerable odium by his pacific policy
abroad, and his position had been greatly
weakened by attacks made upon him, con-
spicuously by William Pitt, afterwards Earl
of Chatham, who, entering the House in
1735, had early given evidence of his
commanding genius by speeches of a vigour
and eloquence remarkable even in that era
of splendid oratory. In 1739 an address in
favour of the convention just concluded with
Spain was carried by only twenty-eight votes
in a full House, and the division was followed
by an extraordinary scene, culminating in
the withdrawal of the Opposition in a body.
Thereafter, Walpole was compelled by the
pressure of public opinion to declare war
against Spain, and the operations proving
disastrous, he was called upon to bear the
discredit of a policy which he had pursued
against his better judgment. The imposi-
tion of heavy financial burdens to cover the
cost of the war in the session of 1740
prepared the way for his downfall. In the
debate on Sandys' motion, in February, 1741,
From the portrait by W. lloart, R.A., in the A'ational Portrait Gallery.
THE KIGHT HON. HENRY FELHAM,
Friend and follower of Walpole ; a- leading member of the Pelbam
Administration.
1 This is probably the only instance in which a bet was publicly made in the House of Commons, but sporting
transactions of this character over events happening in the Legislative Chamber are common enough. At the present
time a new silk hat is the favourite wager. A member now in the House has framed in his library a cheque for
twenty-five (hillings which Mr. Chamberlain sent him, the cost of a bat which the statesman had wagered
and lost.
Memories of St. Stephen's — The Eighteenth Century 105
Walpole made a brilliant speech in defence of his policy, and
by sheer weight of rhetoric carried the House with him, securing
the large majority of 184. But the stars in their courses were
fighting against him. Within a twelvemonth after the election
of a new Parliament he was called upon to defend himself from
a more formidable attack, led by his old enemy Pulteney, who
brought forward a motion for referring to a Select Committee
the papers which had been laid before the House relating to
the war. \Valpole's speech in reply to the acrimonious attack
made upon him by Pulteney, backed by Pitt, was a magnificent
effort, full of fire and invective, and containing many home
thrusts for his opponents. Bubb Dodington came especially
under the lash of his withering satire. Keferring to this
politician's description of his Administration as infamous,
Walpole described him as a person of great self-mortification,
who for sixteen years had condescended to bear part of the
infamy. Extraordinary efforts were made by both parties to
ensure a full muster. Many members were brought direct from
a bed of sickness to swell the numbers. A curious experience
awaited one party of invalids brought up in the interest of the
Ministry. "They had,'' says Coxe, "been placed in an adjoin-
ing apartment belonging to Lord Walpole, as Auditor of the
Exchequer, which communicated with the House. The adversaries,
aware of the feet, filled the keyhole of the door with dirt
and sand, which prevented their admission into the House until
the division was over. On this occasion, as General Churchill
was sitting next to the Prince of Wales, who was in the House of Commons* to hear the
debate, a member was brought in who had lost the use of his limbs. ' So,' says the Prince,
'I see you bring in the lame, the halt, and the blind.' 'Yes,' replied the General; 'the
lame on our side and the blind on yours.'" When the division was called it was found that
in a House of 508 members— the fullest ever known — Ministers only had a majority of three.
Aft IT this the end could plainly not be far off. It came on a series of divisions on a disputed
point in connection with the Chippenham election petition, which left the Government in a
minority, in the last of the divisions, of sixteen. Walpole immediately resigned, and was created
Earl of Orford, with an additional pension of £'4,000 a year. His leave-taking of the King
was highly affecting. "On kneeling down to kiss the King's hand his Majesty burst into
tcar>. and the ex-Minister was so moved with that instance of regard that he continued for
some time in that posture; and the King was so touched that he was unable to raise him
from the ground. When he at length rose, the King testified his regret for the loss of so
faithful a counsellor, expressed his gratitude for his long services, and his hopes of receiving
advice on important occasions." l A determined effort was made by Walpole's political enemies
to call him to criminal .account for his actions, but skilful Parliamentary manoeuvring on the
part of his friends turned the attack aside. The strenuous efforts he had been called upon
to make had, however, undermined his strength. In 1745 he expired at his country house in
Norfolk, whither he had retired after his fall. Meanwhile, his implacable opponent, Pulteney,
had retired to that " hospital of invalids, the House of Peers," as he once called it, and in
so doing had greatly injured his reputation as a ]x>pular leader. A reference to this decline
of his influence is contained in a satirical ballad of the time: —
J-ri,,,t a drawing by W. Hogarth.
GEOBGE BUBB DODINGTON, LORD
HELCOMBE.
A well-known politician, whom diary is one
of the cla&sica of political literature.
Great Earl of Bath, your reign is o'er ;
The Tories trust your word no more,
The Whigs no longer fear ye ;
Your gates are seldom now unbarr'd,
No crowds of coaches fill 3'our jard,
And scarce a soul comes near ye.
Coxe's " Memoirs of Sir Robert Walpole," vol. i. p. 6%.
14
io6
Parliament Past and Present
rn by George Dance in 1793.
IKtKACE WALP01.K. r<>! K'l'II i:\ltlj OP OBFOKD.
A great political writer and «rt connoUaeur. He wai third
•on of Sir Robert Walpole.
It is said that Pulteney owed his earldom to
\Valj>oh». «* I remember," says Hornoe Waljwle,
44 my father's action and words when he returned
from Court and told me what he had done — ' I
have turned the key of the closet on him,' making
that motion with his hand." Pulteney had some
inkling, probably, of the origin of his title, for
when he received the patent of his creation lie
threw it on the floor and trampled on it. He
outlived Wal|H>le by nineteen years, but he never
again figured prominently in politics, thus in
some extent justifying a remark made by that
statesman when he first met his old rival in the
House of Lords — "My Lord liath, you and I are
now two as insignificant men as any in England."
Not long after the termination of Walpole's
active ]>olitical career, the (iovernment fell into
the hands of the Pel hams (Henry Pelham and liis
brother, the Duke of Newcastle), whose ascendency
in the national councils rxlrmlcd almost uninter-
ruptedly over a period of twenty years, dating
fn»m 1743. Of all the names which secured
.-1 .ecial prominence in the political history of the
eighteenth century, these two, perhaps, have the
least title to notice. Henry Pelham was a respect-
able mediocrity, well-meaning and industrious, but
(|iiite devoid of the qualities which are associated with the highest statesmanship. Hi-
I trot her, who on his death in 1754 succeeded him in the Premiership, is best described in
Mai-aulay's scathing language: "He was a living, moving, talking caricature. His gait was
a shuffling trot; his utterance a rapid stutter; he was always in a hurry; he was never in
time; he abounded in fulsome caresses and in hysterical tears. His oratory resembled that of
Justice Shallow. It was nonsense effervescent with animal spirits and impertinence." Savage as
the picture is, it is not on the whole unjust. Never has there been a Premier who attracted to
himself so much ridicule and contemptuous criticism. Henry Pelham was by far the abler man,
but he never rose above the level of commonplace. His policy was uninspired, and the lack of
genius was not comjiensated for by any commanding personal attractions. He appears llie less
in history as it was during his tenure of power that the restrictions against the reporting of
the debates were in greatest force. Personally he would have given the reporters a fairly
free hand. " Let them alone," he remarked on one occasion, " they will make better speeches
for us than we can make for ourselves." These sentiments, however, were not those of the
majority, and consequently our knowledge of this period in Parliamentary history is limited.
One interesting incident associated with Pel ham's name has, however, been handed down by
Coxe in his " History of the Pelham Administration." According to the biographer, during the
early years of Pellmm's career at St. Stephen's he stood out boldly as a defender of M'aljwle
against Pulteney's attacks. On one occasion so heated were his attacks on the Opposition
leader that a duel was made imminent. "After a short conversation, in which a challenge is
sup]N>sed to have been given, Mr. Pulteney quitted the House, and Mr. Pelham rose up to
follow him, but some common friends inter|xising, the Speaker ordered the Sergeant -at-Arms
to summon Mr. Pulteney to return. In the meantime it was resolved by tin- House 'that
they be enjoined not to prosecute any quarrel, or show any further resentment for what had
passed between them." Mr. Pulteney having returned, the Speaker acquainted him with the
injunction, after which the two members stood up in their places to explain ; but the
INTERIOR OF THE HOUSE OF LOKDS IN 1742.
The Speaker cif the House of Commons attending to hear the Royal assent to a bill.
107
io8
Parliament Past and Present
THE DfKK OK XKWTASTLE AND LOKD HOLLAND.
A Mtirtc&l electioneering card — one of the first of the kind ever published.
„ explanation not being deemed
sufficiently satisfactory, thev
\\cre required to be more ex-
declared that they \\ouldobey
the order of the House."
The episode illustrates strik-
ingly the political manners of
the time; it also throws a
curious sidelight on the dis-
ciplinary measures which \\ere
occasionally resorted to to
restrain hot-headed partisans.
The personal courage which
I'elhain showed on this occa-
sion, and also in the attack
on Sir Robert Walpole in
We-tmiiister Hall, was not
wanting in his administrative
acts. In 17.~>:i. when the ques-
tion of the reduction of the
land tax was & burning one,
he resolutely declined to listen to the import unities of the landed interest to lower the tax,
on the ground that any interference with the impost would seriously disturb the financial
equilibrium, and that, moreover, a reduction was unnecessary because of the recent rise in
the value of land. Pelham's views were supported by the great majority of member-, i..
the disgust of the malcontent Tory
squires, who, in revenge for the
Minister's attitude, circulated this bon
mot devised from the famous epitaph
on Vanbrugh : —
Lie heavy on him, land, for be
Laid many a heavy load on thee.
Pelham died in 1754 under cir-
cumstances which created considerable
confusion in the public service. It
would be putting a strain upon truth,
however, to say that his loss was a
serious one from the standpoint of the
public interest. The time, at all events,
was passing away when political power
was of a necessity solely centred in the
bands of men of mediocre attainments.
As has already been noted, some
time before Walpole and Pulteney had
disappeared from St . Stephen's Chapel
a new luminary of daxzling splendour,
in the person of Pitt, had risen upon
the political tirnrinient. "We must
mu/zl<- that, terrible cornet of horse."
Walpoh-. with instinctive perception
vm: norsi: nr CH.M.MHXS IN Tin: I:K;HTI:I:VI ii i CHI
The view .how« the growth of bnildlng« about the Cluipol.
Memories of St. Stephen's— -The Eighteenth Century 109
of Pitt's great powers, had said
when he first appeared in the
Parliamentary arena. But the
process was too difficult a one
even for the shrewd old Minister,
with all his skill and knowledge of
men. Inspired with high hopes
and great ideals, free from sordid
ambitions, and filled with a holy
indignation at the corruption of
the age, "the terrible cornet of
horse " was irrepressible. Swiftly,
and without a check, he pushed
his way along the road to Parlia-
mentary fame until he occupied
a position of eminence such as
no other statesman before or since
lias held. Maeaulay, in his essay
on Chatham, supplies us with an
inimitable pen picture of the great
man as he was when he first
entered Parliament. " His figure,"
says the historian, " was strikingly
graceful and commanding, his
features high and noble, his eye
full of fire. His voice, even when
it sank to a whisper, was heard
to the remotest benches ; and
when he strained it to its full
extent, the sound rose like the
swell of an organ of a great
cathedral, shook the House with
its peal, and was heard through
lobbies and down staircases to the
( Ymrt of Requests and the precincts
of Westminster Hall. He cultivated all these eminent advantages with the most assiduous care.
His Motion is described by a most malignant observer as equal to that of (jarrick. His play of
countenance was wonderful; he frequently disconcerted a hostile orator by a single glance of in-
dignation or scorn. Every tone, from the imjuissioned cry to the thrilling aside, was perfectly at
hi- command. It is by no means improbable that the pains he took to improve his great personal
advantages had in some respects a prejudicial operation, and tended to nourish in him that
pas.-ion for theatrical effect which was one of the most conspicuous blemishes in his character."
Pitt's first speech in the House was delivered on April 29th, 1736, a little more than a
year after he entered Parliament as member for Old Sariiin. It was a complimentary oration
in support of an addn->s to the King felicitating him upon the marriage of the Prince of
Wales. The enthusiastic championship of the Prince, who was in a very real sense "agin the
Government " at the time, coupled with Pitt's determined opposition to the Ministerial measures,
aroused \Val pole's deep resentment. In order to silence "the terrible cornet of horse," he
deprived him of his commission ; but he had reckoned without his man. So far from this
arbitrary action keeping Pitt silent, it only stimulated the fire of his zeal against the party
in power. A series of most damaging attacks were delivered by him against Walpole, all
marked by a brilliancy and argumentative effectiveness quite uncommon even in those days •
,' dnurbtg /,,/ 1C. //«,,,:, K.A., in the Saiioaal Portrait Cutlery.
THOMAS I'KI.HAM HOM.KS, DI'Kr. of XKWCASTI<K, K.O ,
A imminent gUteonan in the reigng of George I. and George II. ; Prime Minister from
1704 t..
110
Parliament Past and Present
of splendid oratory. One incident of this period is historic: it is tin- oratorical duel between
him and Horace Wal|K»le on March 10th, 174U. There an- M-v.-ral versions of this to be
found in the political literature of the jieriod. Tliat which is best known, and which is
the most fictitious, is the one which figures in Chandler's •• Debate-," much of the material
for which was drawn from the tainted sources to which Johnson was a prolific contributor. A
reference ' to this report may be made, both to illustrate the manner of the old garbled
Parliamentary rejxirts and to show the genesis of a phrase which has Irecorae cla>-ic.
On the day named a hill was before the House Cor ''the encouragement of seamen" and
"the seedier manning of the Navy." Pitt made a strong speech in opposition, and. according
to Chandler's "Debates," denounced "the tyrants of Adinini-traf ion " who amused themselves
with "oppressing their fellow-subjects, who add one hardship to another, invade the liberty
of those already overborne with taxes, . . . and who owe their power, not to their abilities,
but to casual prosjierity or to the influence of money.'' This brought up Horace Walpole,
who delivered a sneering reply, in the course of which he observed: "Formidable sounds
and furious declamation, confident assertions and lofty periods, mav affect the voting and
inexperienced; and the honourable gentleman may have contracted his habits of oratory by
conversing more with those of his own age than with such as have had more opportunities
of communicating their sentiments." Allusion was further made to Pitt's vehement gestures,
and ridicule was poured upon his
theatrical manner. Without a
moment's hesitation, according to
the authority quoted, Pitt jumped
to his feet as soon a- his critic
had finished and made this reply:
'•The atrocious crime of being a
young man, which the honourable
gentlemen has with such spirit and
decency charged upon me, I shall
neither attempt to palliate nor
deny, but content myself with
wishing that I may be one of
those whose follies will cease with
their youth, and not of that
number who are ignorant in spite
of experience. Whether youth
can lie imputed to any man as a
reproach I will not assume the
province of determining; but surely
age may become justly contemp-
tible if the opportunities which it
brings have passed away without
improvement, and vice appears
to prevail when the passions have
subsided. The wretch that, after
having seen the consequences of a
thousand errors, continues still to
blunder, and whose age has only
added obstinacy to stupidity, is
surely the object of either abhor-
inty i,y n .//,„,*, K.A.,i 'nth,. fallout Portmitoaiury. rcnce or contempt, and deserves
WILLIAM I-ITT, FIBST KAUI, OK CHATHAM, not tllilt I'*8 g^y head should
The gnat |a;rin<,iUta«nui, and rarliunentni? orator. -erve him.
Memories of St. Stephen's — The Eighteenth Century 111
Another and, it would appear, more
plausible version of the episode is supplied
by Warburton in his " Memoirs of Horace
Walpole." This writer states that Walpole,
having been severely handled by Pitt, Lyttel-
ton, and the Grenvilles, all of whom were
much his juniors, " lamented that though he
had been so long in business, young men
should be found so much better informed in
political matters than himself. He added
that he had at least one consolation in re-
membering that his own son, being twenty
years of age, must be as much the superior
of Pitt, Lyttelton, and the Grenvilles as they
were wiser than himself. Pitt, having his
youth thus mercilessly flung in his face, got
up in a rage, commencing : ' With the
greatest reverence to the grey hairs of the
gentleman ' ; but was stopped by Mr.
Walpole pulling off his wig and disclosing
a grizzled poll beneath. This excited very
general laughter, in which Pitt joined with
such heartiness as quite to forget his anger."
One of the finest of Pitt's earlier
speeches was that delivered in the great
debate in November, 1755, on the Address.
Just before, the Duke of Newcastle had
coalesced with Henry Fox, afterwards Lord Holland, who had been appointed Secretary of State
with the Leadership of the House. Pitt, smarting under a sense of injustice done him by
this arrangement, made a speech of remarkable brilliancy. Horace Walpole, no mean judge,
says of the effort that Pitt "surpassed himself," and he adds, "and then I need not tell
you that he surpassed Cicero and Demosthenes." Unfortunately, only fragments of this great
oration have been preserved. A passage which has survived, criticising the coalition of
Newcastle and Vox, helps us to understand the impression that was made at the time by the
speech. " I remember," said Pitt, with a dramatic gesture — " I remember that at Lyons I was
taken to see the conflux of the Rhone and Saone— the one a gentle, feeble, languid stream,
and though languid, of no depth ; the other a boisterous and impetuous torrent ; but different
as they are, they meet at last, and long may they continue united, to the comfort of each
other and the glory, honour, and security of this nation." The speech, as it was probably
intended to do, cost Pitt his place in the Ministry. But in less than two years his
transcendent abilities placed him in a position of supreme authority in the Ministry and
unparalleled influence in the country.
In the debate in 1755 in which Pitt's great speech was delivered, there flashed meteor-
like across the Parliamentary stage that singular genius, William Gerard Hamilton, who, on
the strength of one brilliant oration, and one only, secured for himself a permanent place
in Parliamentary annals. Horace Walpole describes the incident and the speaker in terms
which indicate how extraordinary was the impression he created. " His speech," says the
diarist, " was at once perfection ; it was set and full of antitheses, but those antitheses were full
of argument ; and he broke through the regularity of his own composition, answered other
people, fell into his own track again with the greatest ease. His figure is advantageous, his
voice strong and clear, his manner spirited, and the whole with the ease of an established
speaker. You will ask what could be beyond this? Nothing, but what was beyond whatever
from tht painting by H'. Hvare, 11. A., ii\ the National Portrait Galtery.
RICHARD GREXVILLE, EARL TEMPI.K. K.C..
Lord Privy Sea] in the Administration of Lord Chatham.
112
Parliament Past and Present
was — and that was I'itt." Splendid us the promise of tin- speech \\as, Hamilton's Parliamentary
career practically ended with it. An offer of a seat at the l!oan! of Trade in tin- llecember
following tempted liiin into ii dignified obscurity. from which h«- never again emerged. We
can only, therefore, surmise what might have Ix-en his portion lind he followeil the bent of hi>
genius and striven to emulate the example of I'itt in his rapid progress up the ladder of fame.
Pitt's ]Mi\ver over the House of Commons was quite as much maintained hy his talent >
a- an actor as hy the s]>ell of his oratory. His ea]>aeity of suppressing a hostile critic with
a single glance or scornful exclamation, to which Macaulay has referred, i- exemplified by
some amusing stories which have heen handed down to us. Brougham tells one of the
in liis •• Statesmen of the Keign of (ieorge III." Chatham "began a speech with the \\ord.-,
'Sugar, Mr. Sjx-aker.' and then, observing a smile to pervade the audience, lie pau>ed.
looking fiercely around, and with a loud voice, rising in its notes and swelling into vehement
anger, he is said to have pronounced again the word 'Sugar!' three times; and having thus
quelled the House, and extinguished every appearance of levity or laughter, turned round and
disdainfully asked. -Who will laugh at sugar now r '' Another illustration of PittV implying
manner is furnished by an episode related hy Charles Butler. The writer says that
Mr. Moreton, the Chief Justice of Chester, happened to say in the llon.-e, "King. Lords,
and Commons, or" — directing his eye towards Pitt — " as that right honourable gentleman would call
them. Commons. Lords, and King." "Pitt arose with great deliberation, and called to order.
'I have,' he said, 'heard frequently in this House doctrines which have surprised me; but now
my blood runs cold. I desire the words of the honourable member to be taken down.' The
Clerk of the House wrote the words. 'Bring them to me,' said Pitt in his loudest voice.
I'.y this time Mr. Moreton was frightened out of his M-IISO. -Sir.' he said, addressing himself
to the Speaker, ' I am sorry to have given any offence to the right honourable member or
to the House. I meant nothing. King, Lords, and Commons; Lords, King, and Commons;
Commons, Lords, and King ; tria juncta in uno. I meant nothing ; indeed 1 meant nothing.'
'I don't wish to push the matter further,' said Pitt loftily. 'The moment a man acknow-
ledges his error he ceases to be guilty. I have a great regard for the honourable member,
and as an instance of that regard I give him this advice: whenever that member
means nothing. T recommend him to say nothing.'"
In general debate Pitt exercised the quality
of polished sarcasm, used with such effect against
the unfortunate Mr. Moreton, with not less power.
A famous instance is supplied by what is known as
his " Gentle Shepherd " speech. This was delivered
in the debate on Dashwood's financial measures in
1762. A feature of the Budget was a tax on cider.
Sri/ing this, Pitt delivered a vigorous philippic
against the threatened invasion of the hearths and
homo of the people by the exciseman. (irenville.
in reply, said that if Pitt objected to a particular
tax. he was Ixmnd to propose an alternative. ''Let
him tell me where taxes should be imposed," he
said, and to clinch the argument repeated several
times. -Let him tell me where." Starting up in
his place and mimicking the whining tone of the
speaker, Pitt said, in allusion to a popular song
of the day, "(ientle shepherd, tell me where."
The House was convulsed with laughter, and
Grcnville, in a high state of indignation, rose to
protest against the treatment he had received.
But his anger only served to fasten more surely
T.IK incur HON. wit.MAM
HAMILTON
C'8inKi.-8,,«chH.n,iiu,0').whom«i.»g«.trepnutioniD
tin HOOM of Common, by »n uoiatwi utterance.
Memories of St. Stephen's— -The Eighteenth Century 113
NEW PALACE YARD IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
.Showing Westminster Hall and, on the right, Westminster Abbey.
the incident on the public memory. For long after he was known by the nickname of "The
Gentle Shepherd."
As an orator pure and simple, Pitt will be best remembered by his speeches in opposition
to the extreme measures taken with the American colonies. The first of this noteworthy
series of utterances was delivered in the House in January, 1766, on the riots which had
accompanied the attempts to enforce the Stamp Act. The most brilliant passage is a reply
to an accusation made by Grenville that the seditious spirit of the colonies was fomented by
the factions at home. '• Sir," said Pitt, " I rejoice that America has resisted. Three millions
of people so dead to all the feelings of liberty as voluntarily to submit to be slaves would have
been fit instruments to make slaves of all the rest. I come not here armed at all points with
law cases and Acts of Parliament, with the Statute Book doubled down in dogs' ears, to defend
the cause of liberty. ... I know the valour of your troops. I know the skill of your officers. In
a good cause, on a sound bottom, the force of this country can crush America to atoms, but
in such a cause as this your success would be hazardous. America, if she fell, would fall like
the strong man. She would embrace the pillars of the State and pull down the Constitution along
with her. Is this your boasted peace — not to sheathe the sword in its scabbard, but to sheathe
it in the bowels of your countrymen ? " A few months after the delivery of this speech Pitt
became Earl of Chatham, and the actual, though not the nominal, head of the Cabinet.
Before he quitted St. Stephen's Chapel he had witnessed the entrance there of Edmund Burke,
and had extended to that brilliant orator the tribute of a generous admiration at his maiden
speech on the American troubles.
Some little time later was removed by death that volatile genius, Charles Townshend, Pitt's
Chancellor of the Exchequer, whose " champagne speech " in May, 1767, constitutes perhaps
the most astounding utterance ever delivered from the Treasury Bench. Horace Wai pole, who
states that Townshend was '• half drunk " when he made the speech, describes the impression
15
114
Parliament Past and Present
it created in his interesting way. "The speech
lusted an hour, with tonvnts of wit, ridicule,
vanity, lies, and lx»;mtiful language. Nolnxly but he
could have made the speech ; and nobody but he
would have innde it if they could. It was at once
a proof that his abilities were Mi|x-nor to those
of all men and his judgment below that of any
man. It showed him incapable of being, and unfit
to be, First Minister. The House was in a roar of
rapture, and some clapped their hands with ecstasy,
like an audience in a theatre." Townshend's death
on September 4th, 1767, paved the way to ^lini"
terial office for Lord North, whose connection with
the American troubles will be dealt with subse-
quently.
Cribbed, cabined, and confined though Chatham's
restless spirit was in the House of Lords, he con-
trived to render his membership of the augu>t
assembly memorable by his speeches on the American
war. Amongst the examples of his eloquence which
have come down to us there are none which are
more familiar than the fragments of the glowing
orations which he delivered at this period, liu-tinct.
with feeling and pervaded with the glow of a rich
imagination, they are classic examples of the palmy
period of Parliamentary oratory. One passage from
the speech on the employment of Indian mercenaries
may be cited as a characteristic specimen of his style at its best. "I call," he said, "upon the
spirit and humanity of my country to vindicate the national character ; I invoke the genius of
the Constitution. From the tapestry 1 that adorns these walls, the immortal ancestor of this
noble earl (the Earl of Effingham) frowns with indignation at the disgrace of his country. In
vain he led your victorious fleet against the boasted Armada of Spain ; in vain he defended
and established the honour, the liberties, the religion — the Protestant religion — of this country
against the arbitrary cruelties of Popery and the Inquisition ; if these more than Popish cruelties
and inquisitorial practices are let loose among us, to turn forth into our settlements, among
our ancient connections, friends, and relations, the merciless cannibal thirsting for the blood of
man, woman, and child ! — to send forth the infidel savages — against whom ? Your Protestant
brethren, to lay waste their country, to desolate their dwellings, and extirpate their race and
name ! " Later on in the same speech, referring to the employment of foreign troops, Chatham
used the historic words, " If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign
troop was landed in my country I would never lay down my arms — never, never, never."
To the end the great statesman maintained an attitude of uncompromising hostility to the
war. His dramatic last speech constitutes one of the most moving episodes in Parliamentary
history. He had been seriously ill with the gout, and was recuperating at Hayes, when, hearing
1 The reference is to the famous tapestries which for so long were objects of interest to visitors to the old
House of Ixmls. They were wrought in Holland at the expense of the groat Earl of Nottingham, Lord High Admiral,
whose defeat of the Spanish Armada established Elizabeth firmly on the throne. It was, however, not until 1650
during the Commonwealth that " the suit containing the story of 1581" was "ordered to be hung up in the late House
of I.'. uls." Chatham's keen interest in the celebrated pictures is shown in his private correspondence. Thus in a
letter to the Countess Stanhope from Hayes on December 16th, 1770, he writes : "The labours within the House are
now the labours of Hercules ; for the House l>eing of late kept clear of hearers [an allusion to the clearance of strangers],
w« are reduced to a snug party of unheating and unfeeling lords and the tapestry hangings." Again (January 25th, 1771)
be writes : " Part six; just returned from the tapestry." Yet again (on January 19th, 1775) he speaks of "meaning to
look thr tapestry and the bishops in the face to-morrow."
From o auuotinl \fler Hit painting I*;/ Sir Joiltva Reynolds.
CHARLES TOWNSHESD, LOKD CHATHAM'S CHAN-
CELLOR OF THE EXCHEQI 1.11.
A witty speaker, bnt a man of ill- balanced judgment.
^_>_.>~^ja^*-.j _ j^yX^ "w^" ' -*— *-L*f >"-' * -r
tiiSi ^^i
.
•^ii^'-^S58^^^JiJlJ-id^2^!3ig33ft^n'aj^^^^^;^J^^^
, X _ 4 ^
i
115
n6
Parliament Past and Present
thnt the Duke of Hichtnond intended to move nn address to the King to remove the fleet and
armv from America, he came post haste to London to take jwirt in the delrnte. Swatlied in
flannels, and looking the ghost of his old self, he appeared in the Peers' chamber on the eventful
7th of April, 1778. Afler the Duke of Richmond had opened the debate, Chatham rose. "The
Earl sjioke," wrote Lord Camden to the Duke of Grafton at the time, "but was not like himself;
his speech faltered, his sentences were broken, and his mind not master of itself. His words
were shreds of unconnected eloquence and flashes of the same fire which he, Prometheus-like,
had stolen from heaven, and were then returning to the place from whence they were taken."
The Duke of Richmond answered Chatham. He rose to reply, but nature was exhausted. " He
fell back," says Lord Camden, "ujwn his seat, and was to all appearance in the agonies of death.
This threw the whole House into confusion ; every person was upon his legs in a moment,
hurrying from one place to another, some sending for assistance, others producing salts, and
others reviving spirits; many crowding about the Earl to observe his countenance, all affected,
most part really concerned, and even those who
might have felt a real pleasure in the accident
yet put on the appearance of distress." The
stricken peer was removed to the Prince's
Chamber, and thence, after a brief sojourn at a
house in Downing Street, to Hayes. Hut he
never completely recovered from the attack.
He expired on May llth, in his seventieth year.
No reference to the great Parliamentary
struggle in which Lord Chatham played so
distinguished and honourable a part would be
complete without some account of Lord North,
the Minister who was charged with the execut ion
of the ill-advised policy which the obstinacy
of the King forced upon Parliament. North
has been subjected probably to more abuse
than any statesman of his century. Execra-
tion has spent itself in attacks on his memory.
Yet there is hardly any figure in the Parlia-
mentary history of the eighteenth century
which is personally more likeable. A slumber-
ous, plethoric man, he was the soul of good-
tiw by otarge *<»****. humour. Nothing could disturb his equanim it y,
whether it was a disaster abroad or a rebuff
in the House. Horace Walpole relates that
the Duke of Newcastle, waiting on him at the
time of the Charlestown affair, intent on lamenting the miscarriage to our arms, and finding
him in the highest of spirits, took notice of the circumstance. " Faith, my lord," replied
Lord North, "if fretting would make me thin, I would be as sorry as your Grace; but since
it will not have that, effect, I bear it as well as I can." The same gossip records in his journal
on January 27th, 1778, that "Charles Fox, in an admirable speech, attacked Lord North on
having called liim>e|f an unfortunate Minister, and proved that all the disgraces had happened
by ignorance, blunders, and misconduct, not by misfortune. Lord North answered with some
humour, and as Fox had accused him of idleness and listening to flatterers, he said he pissed
a great deal of time in that House, where he could not be idle, and it was plain was not
flattered.'1 Another example of his good-humour is supplied by his treatment of a series of
peiMinal attacks which had given rise to much ill-feeling in the House. North deprecated
the ]' adiness to take offence which was evinced. "One member," he observed, "spoke of me
as 'that thing called a Minister.' To be sure," he added, patting his huge form, "I am a
CHAKLKS I.KNXOX, THIRD DUKE OP KTCHMOND.
A leading figure in tbe Huuse of Lords in Lord Chatham's time.
117
n8
Parliament Past and Present
thing ; the member, therefore, when he culled
nil- n thing, said wlmt wa- true, mid I could
not be angry with him. Hut when he added
'that thing called n Minister.' he called me
that thing which of all things he himself
most wished to be, and therefore I took it
as a compliment."
A weakness of North's was an inordinate
love of sleep. In season and out of season he
slumbered on the Treasury Bench, undisturbed
bv the hottest debates. The habit greatly
exasperated his critics, who found their keenest
shafts turned aside by the impenetrability of
the armour he assumed. Brougham tells of
one vehement declaimer. who, calling loudly
for North's head, turned round and perceived
his victim unconsciously indulging in a soft
slumber, and, becoming still more exasperated,
denounced the Minister as capable of sleeping
while he ruined his country. North, awakened
by the attack, merely complained how cruel
it was ne should be denied a solace which
other criminals so often enjoyed — that of having
a night's rest before execution. On another
occasion an orator, to point his remarks on
the iniquity of the Minister, said, "Even now,
in the midst of these perils, the noble lord is
asleep." "I wish to God I was." was North's rejoinder. In yet a further instance, when a tedious
sjieaker with a load of historical reminiscence was on his legs, he asked a colleague to awaken
him when he approached their own times. The summons in due course was given. "When- are
we?" asked North. "At the battle of La Hogue, my lord." "Oh, my dear friend," he replied.
"you have woke me a century too soon." The manner in which Lord North bore his fall was
highly characteristic of the man. '* On the evening when he announced his resignation to the
House of Commons," says Earl Russell, "snow was falling, and the weather was bitterly cold.
I»rd North kept his carriage. As he was passing through the great-coat room of the House of
Commons, many members (chiefly his opponents) crowded the passage. When his carriage \\as
announced he put one or two of his friends into it; and then, making a bow to his opi>oiients.
said, 'Good-night, gentlemen. / have my carnage; it is the first time I have known the
advantage of being in the secret.' "
Before the American war attained to the dimensions of a great national question,
a striking and sinister figure had appeared on the Parliamentary stage in the person of John
Wilkes. At this time of day it is difficult to realise the extraordinary influence which this poli-
tician exercised. A man devoid of talents, as lie was of character, conspicuously repellent in
his i>ersonal appearance, without birth or connections, he yet wielded a power over the people
which some of the greatest statesmen could never lay claim to. "Wilkes and Liberty" was
the rallying cry, not only of the rabble, but of the substantial business men of the City, who
committed themselves to his cause with a wholelieartedness which they had never before
shown for any individual. An oft-told story is that of Wilkes's election to the House in 1764,
his expulsion for the libels contained in the famous No. 45 of the Nortli Briton, his
election for Middlesex four years later, his second expulsion, followed by further elections and
expulsions until his final triumphant admission to the House in 1774. For years he and his
concerns were prominent in Parliament— indeed, it may be doubted whether in the whole
ENTRANCE TO THE OLD llol'SK OK LORDS IN Till:
EIGHTEKXTH CENTURY.
The conspicuous meiuineaa of the architecture will be noted. The
|>rinoi]u! building uliown in this picture in the Office of Ordnance.
Memories of St. Stephen's— The Eighteenth Century 119
range of Parliamentary history there is a case of a man who never held office, and who was
not a leader of the regular Opposition, attaining to such notoriety as he did. In the House
of Commons he was not unpopular. His unabashed cynicism quite disarmed hostility. Once,
when standing on the hustings at Brentford, his opponent said to him, " I will take the sense of
the meeting.'' "And I will take the nonsense," replied Wilkes, "and we shall see who has the
best of it." It is also related of him in Lord Sidmouth's "Life" that he once went up to the
Speaker and said that he had a petition to present to the House from "a set of the greatest
scoundrels and miscreants on the face of the earth." A little while afterwards, when publicly
called upon to present it, he said with the gravest face, "Sir, I hold in my hand a petition
from a most intelligent, independent, and enlightened body of men." The demagogue always
seemed to have his tongue in his cheek. He even laughed at himself. When attending a
levee towards the end of his career he was asked by the King after his "friend," Serjeant
Glyn. " Sir," observed Wilkes, " he is not a friend of mine ; he was a Wilkeite, which I
never was."
A Parliamentary character of this period who deserves to be bracketed with Wilkes was
Colonel Barre, a soldier of Wolfe's campaign hailing from Dublin, who, entering Parliament in
1762, was for a good many years a conspicuous though never a distinguished member. His
oratory was of the robust order, charged with true Celtic fire. Ere he had been two days in
the House he attracted attention by a violent attack on Pitt, then in the zenith of his career.
Criticising the style of the great man's speeches, he said: "There he would stand, turning up
his eyes to heaven that witnessed his perjuries, and laying his hand in a solemn' manner upon
the table — that sacrilegious hand that had been employed in tearing out the bowels of his
mother country ! " For a maiden effort this was striking, if nothing else. Its supreme
audacity took away the breath of the House ; but Pitt, with that hauteur which became him
so well, sat unmoved under the torrent of
abuse, allowing his contemptuous silence to
give an effective answer to the tirade. Subse-
quently Barre was brought into intimate rela-
tions with the statesman he denounced with so
much ill-regulated fervour, and a number of
his letters, chiefly on the Wilkes case, figure in
the published " Correspondence of the Earl of
Chatham." One epistle may be singled out for
special notice. It refers to the debate in the
Houseof Commons on March 25th, 1771, on the
motion to commit to the Tower for breach of
privilege Alderman Oliver, who with Lord Mayor
Crosby had signed the warrant for the arrest
of the messenger despatched by the Speaker
to the City to secure VVheble, the offending
printer of the debates of the House. Barre
describes the excitement which the discussion
of the question aroused, and observes : " I spoke
to the question about five minutes only, but
I believe with great violence." The reports
of the speech show that his belief was not
without entire justification. "Listen!" said
the indignant orator—" listen ! for if you are
not totally callous, if your consciences are
not totally seared, I will speak daggers to your LORD NORTH> AFTERWABD8 SECOND EARL OF GUILPORD.
souls, and wake you to all the hells of guilty George „,.. Minirter who aaM through the disaatrous ^ which
recollection. That I may not be a Witness led to the loss of the American colonies.
120
Parliament Past and Present
of this tin uist roiiD proceeding I will leave the House; nor do I doubt but every independent
man will follow me. These walls are baleful, they are deadly, while a prostitute majority
holds the holt of Parliamentary omnipotence, and hurls its Vengeance only upon the virtuous.
To yourselves, therefore. 1 consign you. Enjoy your own pandemonium.
\Vlu-n vice prevail* and impious men bear sway,
The poet of honour is a private station."
The sequel (>f this astounding speech is related by Barn? in his communication to Lord
Chatham. " I left the House." he wrote, "to its own discretion, and was followed by Mr. Dunning,
Trecothick. Sir H. Bernard, Townshend, Sawbridge, Sir R. Clayton, and about seven or eight other
members. As I walked down several of the Ministry called 'To the Bar!' but no man chose to
put the question." This was not the sole instance in which Barre was the cause of uproar in the
House. J I is fiery invective directed against Lord North brought about a violent " scene " in 1782
in one of the debates on the American war. On this occasion Lord North is said to have,
lost his temper almost for the first time in his life. In a white heat of passion he stigma-
tised Barru's language as uncivil, brutal, and insolent, and on being called to order for his
language, said that he was prepared to ask jKirdon of the House, but not of Barre. Eventually,
however, he was prevailed upon to make the necessary amende and the incident closed.
At the period of Lord North's fall Edmund Burke and Charles James Fox laid the foundations
of their great reputations. Just previously there had joined them on the floor of the House two
other young men who were each destined to win imperishable fame in Parliament. These were
William Pitt, the younger, and Richard Brinsley Sheridan. For the next twenty years or more
the popular chamber was dominated by this brilliant galaxy of talent. Widely differing in
temperament and bent of genius, the four men
shared in common a remarkable gift of oratory.
Burke's attainments were the deepest and most
scholarly, but he had perhaps the least weight
with the House. The plain country squires
and solid common-sense business men who
constituted the bulk of the members little
appreciated his carefully elaborated speeches,
with their wealth of classical allusion and
their gorgeous imagery. They did not always
take the trouble to listen, and when they did
they were not greatly moved by them. There
was even at one period of Burke's career
something like an organised effort to howl him
down on the part of some of the younger and
more intolerant members. One night, when
the annoyance was particularly irritating, he
stopped siiort in his argument, and put his
enemies to discomfiture by saying that he
could teach a pack of hounds to yelp with
more melody and equal comprehension.
Burke was more susceptible to the remark of
an old country squire'who exclaimed when he
was preparing to speak, "I hope the honour-
able gentleman does not mean to read that
large bundle of papers and bore us with a
long speech into the bargain." So disconcerted
Tlie ditMBOOM, wbiM cnntert* with the Home of Commons over bin ,!••,,• ,
tight to ut in the ,.,,,uur ch«nb,r c«.t«d «ch fem«nt in th. middi. of was the orator by this interruption that he
tb. nightly, century. gathered together his papers and fled from
PrililtJ .«
From llx Painting ty Karl /tntoti Hum.
CHARLES JAMES FOX.
, M< spUJIJ debating powers. He w« ,!„ p Pi". >«J " «"»
. with un
Memories of St. Stephen's — The Eighteenth Century 121
•THE COMPLEAT VERMIX CATCHER.
An old satirical print showing the Duke of Newcastle fishinu' for partisans in view of the general election of 1754. The line is dropped through
the chimney of St. Stephen's Chai*l and the hook is baited with " titles," '" bribes," " pensions," etc. Candidates .ire galloping in from all quarters
to secure the good things.
the Legislative Chamber. One of the rare occasions on which Burke really touched the House
was on February 6th. 1778, when he delivered his well-known speech on the subject of the employ-
ment of Indians in the American War. Horace Walpole states that "he drew such a pathetic
picture of the cruelties of the King's army, particularly in the alleged case of a young woman
on whose ransom, not beauty, they quarrelled, and murdered her, that he drew iron tears down
Barre's checks, who implored him to print his speech, and said, with many invectives against
the bishops, that it ought to be pasted up on every church under their proclamation for the fast,
and that he himself would paste it upon some." Governor Johnstone, the diarist adds, stated
that he was glad that strangers were excluded, as if they had been admitted, Burke's speech would
have excited them to tear the Ministers to pieces as they went out of the House. Like Chatham,
Burke was theatrical in his style, but he did not understand the art of effective gesture so well as
•'the Great Commoner." His famous " dagger speech " on December 28th, 1792, went perilously
near being farcical by his clumsiness. Here is the description of the scene as related by Lord
Sidmouth : "When Burke after only a few preliminary remarks, the House being totally unpre-
pared, fumbled in his bosom, and suddenly drew out the dagger and threw it on the floor, his
extravagant gesture excited a general disposition to titter, by which most men would have been
disconcerted ; but he, observing he had failed of making the intended impression, immediately
collected himself for an effort, and by a few brilliant sentences recalled the seriousness of the House.
'Let us.' said he, 'keep French principles from our heads and French daggers from our hearts; let
us preserve all our blandishments in life and all our consolations in death, all the blessings of
time and all the hopes of eternity.' "
In keeping with this theatrical demonstration was a much earlier and less-known incident
described by Lord Clive in a letter to Sir Matthew Fetherstonehaugh. It occurred in a debate
on the affairs of the East India Company towards the close of 1766. Burke pointed out the
ill effects that the measure before the House might have on the public credit. "But perhaps,"
said he, "this House is not the place where our reasons can be of any avail ; the Great Person
16
122
Parliament Past and Present
COLONEL BABIiK,
One of Wolfe'* lieutenant*, who pained a great reputation bj his fiery
oratory in the House of Commons.
who is (o determine this question niav
be n being fur alx>ve our view, one M> im-
measurably high that the greatest abilities
(pointing to Mr. Townshend) or the mo»t
amiable dis]Hisilions that are to be found in
this House may not gain aecess to Him;
a Being before whom thrones, dominations,
princedoms, virtues, powers (waving his hand
all this time over the Treasury Bench, which
he sat behind), all veil their faces with their
wings. But though our arguments mav
not reach Him, probably our prayer- mi\."
" The orator," proceeds ('live, "then a|Ki.-tr<>-
jihiM'd into a solemn prayer to the (ireat
Minister above that rules and governs over
all to have mercy upon us, and not to
destroy the work of His own hands, and t<>
have mercy on the public credit, of which
He had made so free and large a use.
• Draw not to perdition that vast public
debt — a mass of seventy millions — of which
Thou hast employed in rearing a pede>tal
for Thy own statue.' Here," adds ('live,
" Augustus Hervey called him to order, to
the great disgust of many."
Burke's oratory is too well known to need extensive illustration. No statesman before his
time or since, with perhaps the sole exception of Lord Chatham, has had wider currency for his
speeches. Their chaste style, burning elocpjence, and wonderful command of vivid language
have, despite— perhaps because— of their faults as spoken utterances, won for them a circle of
cultured readers which never diminishes from one generation to another. The lea>t M-mpathetic
of youths is thrilled when he makes first acquaintance with the gems which sparkle with rare
radiance in the great man's orations. The sublimity of the thoughts, not less than the splendour
of the diction, rivets his attention, and gives him when he gets away from his books a rnemorv
of elevated and graceful conceptions which does not fade.
It it quite beyond the purpose of this work to follow Burke in detail through his long
and memorable career in the House. For a quarter of a century or more he was in the front
rank of Parliamentarians, and to adequately survey his actions on the floor of St. Stephen's
would be to write the history of the crowded last quarter of the eighteenth century. Some-
thing will be said of his connection with the impeachment of Warren Hastings in another
chapter. .Meanwhile, his historic quarrel with Fox cannot be overlooked, because it supplies one
of the most interesting of the memories which cluster about the ancient Chapel. The cau>e of
the rupture was the pronounced line which Burke took in regard to the French Revolution.
As he spoke strongly, so he felt strongly, for the victims of the infamies of the Terror. There-
fore, when in 1791 Fox in the course of a debate on the Canada Bill cast some reflection- on
the recent writings of Burke on the subject of the Revolution, a barrier was created between
the two old jwlitical friends of a formidable kind. The difference was accentuated by the ill-
advised conduct of some of Fox's followers, who, when Burke, with signs of strong emotion upon
him, got up to defend his principles, practically shouted him down. This treatment was related
on a subsequent day under circumstances which are vividly described by Karl Stanho]H- in one
of his works, "When, on May 6th, Burke rose in his place," says the noble author, "and wa-
proceeding with solemn earnestness to inveigh against the evil and the error of the French
Revolution, there ap]>eared a fixed design to interrupt him. Member after member of his own
Memories of St. Stephen's- -The Eighteenth Century 123
side started up to call him to order. There was, as Burke said, a most disorderly rage for
order. When at last he was suffered in some measure to proceed, chafed and goaded as he
had been,- and even at length by Fox among the rest, he no doubt spoke against the
right honourable gentleman (for now he dropped the name of friend) much more bitterly and
strongly than he had at first designed. 'Certainly,' he said, 'it is indiscreet at any period,
but especially at my time of life, to provoke enemies, or to give my friends occasion to desert
me. Yet, if my firm and steady adherence to the British Constitution place me in such a
dilemma, I am ready to risk all, and with my last words to exclaim, " Fly from the French
Constitution ! " Fox here whispered across to him, ' There is no loss of friends.' ' Yes,' rejoined
Burke, ' yes, there is a loss of friends. I know the price of my conduct. I have done my
duty at the price of my friend. Our friendship is at an end.' " In tears Fox besought his
friend to reconsider his decision, but Burke was proof against all entreaties. From that night
dated a rupture which lasted during the few remaining years of Burke's life.
Of a totally different type from Burke was the volatile and gifted Sheridan. Where Burke
distinguished himself by depth, Sheridan won fame by sparkle. The tropes and images in the
one case gave place in the other to witty bon mots and pointed epigrams. In fine, there was
as little similarity between
the oratory of the two as there
is between old port and dry
champagne. Curiously
enough, having regard to the
great reputation he afterwards
obtained, Sheridan's maiden
speech was a hopeless failure.
After he had delivered it the
clever young Irishman went
up to the gallery to ascertain
the opinion of Wood fall—
" Memory Woodfall " — ujion
the performance. " I am
sorry to say." >aid the great
reporter, in reply to an eager
question, "that I do not think
this is in your line ; you had
much better have stuck to
your former pursuits." For a
moment Sheridan rested his
head upon his hand in con-
templation, and then he
vehemently exclaimed, "It is
in me, however, and by G - ,
it shall come out." Sheridan
did not overrate his powers.
He became incomparably the
most witty speaker that had
ever been known in Parlia-
ment. Moore, in his biography,
unkindly lays bare the pro-
, ' . ,.
cess by which his dazzling
impromptus were elaborated,
but the revelations do not
... .. ...
materially dimmish our sense
*r~' Jim. *«* &*<&-'
A ciricatnre by Gilray, burlesquine the famou* scene in which Burke threw down a dagger on tlie
flo,,r of the House.
124
Parliament Past and Present
of admiration at the extnioniinnry qualities of his genius. Hyron once said of him. - \Vliati -ver
Sheridan has done or chosen t<> do has U-en /»(/• rsi-fllmcr always tin- l«-st of tin- kind. II.-
has written the best comedy (The School for Sr>tn<lnl), tin- hot o|i<-i-a (Tin' Ihimnn). and
the best addie— ('Monologue on (.arrick'X and to crown all. dcliven-d (lit- very lx>t .. ration
(the Peyuni speech) ever conceived or heard in this country.'' The poet's | raise is somewhat
exaggerated, hut the sjieech to which lie alludes certainly was a remarkable effort. Hurke declare:!
it to lie the most astonishing effect of eloqoeaoe, argument, and wit united of which there \\a> any
record or tnidition. Fox said : "All that he had ever heard, all that he had ever read, when
compared with it, dwindled into nothing and vanished like \a[«our before the sun"; while I'itt
acknowledged "that it surpassed all the eloquence of ancient and modern times, and possessed eu-rv-
tliing that genius or art could furnish to agitate and control the human mind." So tremendous
wa- the excitement created by the speech on the night it was delivered that it was necessary to
adjourn the House. Within twenty-four hours, as Macaulay relates. Sheridan was oiVcred a tliousand
pounds for the copyright of the speech. Later. Moore, with the shorthand writer's note- he fore him.
stigmatised the utterance as "trashy bombast." hut. making every allowance for the circumstances
of the hour, which greatly heightened the effect of the orator's utterances, there can IK- hut little
doubt that it really was a remarkable performance. Sheridan's qualities, however, leant Hitherto
display than to solid accomplishment. He had a po.-ition of great eminence in the House, but he
never carried much weight.
Hoth Sheridan and Hurke were completely overshadowed in point of influence by I'itt and
Fox. In i>oint of Parliamentary experience Fox had a considerable advantage over his great
rival, he having entered Parliament in 1768, while Pitt did not appear at St. Stephen's until
1781. The lives of the two statesmen were curiously interwoven from their childhood. One day
Lady Holland, Fox's mother, having paid a visit to Lady Hester Pitt in 1767. wrote the same
day to her husband describing Pitt, then only eight years old. as really the cleverest child she
ever saw. and adding in prophetic language, " Mark my words — that little boy will be a thorn
in Charles's side as long as he lives." The prescience of the doting mother was justified by
events. Almost to the last day of his life
Pitt was indeed a "thorn in Charles's side."
Hut their earliest political years were pa--ed
in a close if not intimate friendship. Fox.
as has been stated, had a long start of his
future antagonist in Parliament. Keturned
for Midhurst when he was only nineteen
years old, he took his seat on May 10th, 1768.
Within a twelvemonth he had made three
speeches, two of which, on the Wilkes ca-e.
were ambitious efforts which attracted con-
siderable attention. In a letter relating to
the second of them, which was made on
April 14th, 1765). his father, addressing a
friend, wrote in terms of pardonable elation.
"I am told." he said, "that few in Parlia-
ment ever spoke better than Charles did
on Tuesday— off-hand, with rapidity and with
spirit, and with such knowledge of what he
was talking of as surprised everybody in so
young a man. If you think this \anity. I
am sure you will forgive it." The partiality
of a nt hag to jjg t^,,, i|l((( .K.t,om;t
KICIIAllll UIUNSI.IIY SIIKKIDAN, . ... ... . . , ., -,-, ,
in weighing this estimate, but that foxs
, wit, ami orator, whone g]*eche* in the HOUM of Commons are °
aniongrt th« mort romarknbie ev.r delivered there. powers at this very early period were singularly
/
**MWM*M*MM«MllylPl»*r- . •» «!•«
INTERIOR OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS IN 1742,
With .Speaker Onslow in the Chair, and Sir Robert Wal|>ole, who wears the Ribbon of the Garter, addressing the House. This is the best view extant
of the Home in the eighteenth century.
125
126
Parliament Past and Present
developed is shown by indepen-
dent testimony. Horace \Yai]>ole
dropping into the House one
evening in April, 1772, found \-\>\
on liis lci;s. ami lie describes in
a letter tn Sir Horace Mann his
impn---ion- of tin- young orator.
" Fox's abilities." he remarks. " are
amaxing at so very early a period,
especially under the circumstance-
of such a dissolute life. He was
just arrived from Newmarket and
had sat up drinking all night.
and had not heen in lied ! Mow
such talents make one laugh at
Tally's rules for an orator, and
his indefatigable application. Hi-
laboured orations are puerile com-
pared with this boy's manly
reason."
The reference to Fox's dis-i-
pated habits made by V.'alpole
is thought by some of his
biographers to be somewhat
exaggerated. That Fox, with his
lax up-bringing, was not the
most regular of youths is admitted.
But it is claimed that he could
not have achieved the success he
did as a debater if lie had been
From Hit portrait l.y Sir Jail.ua ReynolJt, P.H.A., ill the Xatloilal Portrait Galltry. altogether the loose fish wlllcll
THK RIGHT HON. KDMUND BURKE, this statement would imply. The
Famed for bi> oratory ; his Parliamentary speeches are elude examples of eloquence. force of the line of reasollill"
may be admitted. At the same time, it is notorious that Fox's irregularities, and especially
his love of gaming, in his early years went far beyond those of the majority of the young
men of even that lax age. We are given in "Fox's Correspondence" a singular picture of
the way in which the jeunesse dorte who composed Fox's set spent their leisure. The
rendezvous was Almack's, where the play was for rouleaus of £50 each, and generally t lien-
was £,'10,000 in specie on the table. The manners of the gamesters were singular. "They
began by pulling off their embroidered clothes and put on frieze great-coats, or turned their
coats inside outward for luck. They put on pieces of leather (such as are used by footmen
when they clean their knives) to save their laced ruffles, and to guard their eyes from tin-
light, and, to prevent tumbling their hair, wore high-crowned straw hats with broad brims and
adorned with flowers and ribbons, masks to conceal their emotions when they played at i/ii!ii:i'.
Each gamester had a small neat stand by him to hold his tea, or a wooden l*>wl with an
edge of ormolu to hold his rouleaus." In attendance outside were Jews who advanced money
to the young spendthrifts at exorbitant rates of interest. Fox made early and frequent
acquaintance with these gentry, his ante-room, where they were usually to be found, being on
that account whimsically termed his "Jerusalem Chamber." The extent to which he squandered
his substance in these early days of his career may be gathered from the fact, stated on
aiithoritv, that within a few years Lord Holland had disbursed about £'20,000 to liquidate the
gambling debts of his two sons.
Memories of St. Stephen's— The Eighteenth Century 127
F.-fim thf port,-(f'l. hy Sir
IttyiiolJi, P.K.A.
CIIAULES JAMES FOX AS A YOUNG
MAX.
The eminent statesman who was the
great rival of the younger Pitt during the
greater |>art of his career.
In spite of these distractions, Fox went steadily forward
in the great political race at St. Stephen's. His birth and
connections unquestionably were an immense advantage for
many vears ; but without solid talents he could never have
attained the position of influence he early filled. In debate he
showed astonishing readiness. Before many years had elapsed
he was almost without a rival. A description of his style,
which, though belonging to a later period than that of which
we are speaking, may be cited here, as his oratorical methods
underwent little change through life. His habit was to take
the arguments of his opponents one by one and reply to them ;
and it is said that without the aid of this text upon which
to hang his comments he could make little progress. "The
opening of his speeches," says Sharpe, whose impressions we
are recalling, " was almost always bad. Until he got warmed
with his subject he hesitated and stammered, and he often
continued for long together in a tame and commonplace strain.
Even in his highest flights he indulged in incessant repeti-
tions, was negligent in his language, and was neither polished
nor exact in his style. Notwithstanding these defects, he
exercised a prodigious influence over his hearers." Fox's
greatest strength was not brought out until he had measured
his genius with that of Pitt in many exciting combats across
the floor of the House. Some of these encounters will call for notice ; but, meanwhile, we
must first glance at the circumstances under which Pitt made his entrance into the
Parliamentary arena.
Pitt's training was the very opposite to that of Fox. He was brought up in the most
rigid principles of morality and religion, and the utmost care was taken to ensure that his
education should be thorough and comprehensive. His quick intelligence and sensitive nature
responded to these influences. From his esirliest boyhood
he showed a seriousness and devotion to duty quite
remarkable in a youthful scion of a noble house in that
day. St. Stephen's early attracted him — partly, no doubt,
by reason of the glamour which the transcendent genius
of his father had cast over it for him ; partly because of
the promptings of ambition. Night after night he was
to be found in the Strangers' Gallery watching with
absorbed attention the oratorical conflict below. He heard
the debates, as Macaulav remarks in his picturesque way,
"with a close scientific attention resembling that with
which a diligent pupil at Guy's Hospital watches every
turn of the hand of a great surgeon through a difficult
operation." It was, therefore, as quite an old Parlia-
mentary hand that he took his place on the floor of
the House and joined in the fray.
His first speech, delivered on Burke's renewed
bill for the reduction of the Civil List, was, says
Earl Russell in his "Life of Fox," delivered with a
fluency, a precision, a dignity, and a method that
are usually the acquirement of many years of practice.
From the portrait bit George Romney, R.A.
CHARLES JAMES FOX.
Lord North declared it the best first Speech \e had In thUportmit we have* representation of Fox as he
' was when he boa won his way to fame In the House or
ever heard. The effect was prodigious.
Lord Holland commons.
128
Parliament Past and Present
Im* n-lat.fl an anecdote which illustrates the presence of mind of tin- voting orator.
"A* .Mr. Fox hurried up to Mr. Pitt to compliment him on his speech, an old membtt
Niid to be General Urant. passed by and raid, 'Ay, Mr. Fox. you an- pi~ii-in.it you,,- Pit
for his *|*erh. You may well do eo, for excepting yourself theiv> n,, man in the House
can make nich another; "and, old as I am. I ex^ct and hop.- to hear von both battling it
within these walls as I have done your fathers Ix-fore.' Mr. Fox. disconcerted at the
awkwnnl turn of the compliment, was silent, and looked foolish; but young 1'iit. with great
delicacy, rmliness, and felicity of expression answered, -1 have no doubt. <iener.il. von would
like to attain to the age of Methuselah.'" Macaulay mentions tliat tin- effect of tin- speech
on Burke was such tliat, moved to tears, he exclaimed. - It is not a chip of the old block; it
is the old block itself."
This extraordinarily favourable first impression was more than justified by Pitt's subsequent
career. Plunging with' ardour into the war of parties, he made a reputation so great by his
wonderful powers that, on the reconstruction of the .Ministry consequent upon the death of Urd
Kockingham in 1782, he at the age of twenty-three became Chancellor of the Exchequer, and
Ajlvr the picture of Ciiitalitlo.
VIKW OP WESTMINSTER,
Showing the bridge in the course of rebuilding.
eighteen months later — on December 23rd, 1783 — assumed the Premiership, Before Pitt attained
to supreme jwwer he and Fox had drifted into the position of rivals, to which they were
predestined by their political predilections and their great abilities. There was a fierce duel
between them over the then recently concluded peace with France. Fox denounced the arrange-
ment as an infamy and a disgrace, and Pitt stood forward as its uncompromising defender. An
incident of the contest which is handed down to us by Wilberforce illustrates the extraordinary
spirit of the young Minister. It happened that on the night of the debate Pitt was so oppiv~~ed
with a severe headache that he could scarcely hold up his head. " Fox," says Wilherforce. --availed
him in a very able speech, in the mid.-t of which Pitt was obliged, from actual sickness, to retire
to the entry door called Solomon's Porch, behind the Speaker's chair. I seem to see him holding
the door in one hand while he yielded to his malady, and turning his ear towards the House, that
if possible he might not lose a single sentence that Fox uttered. . . . When Fox sat down he replied
to him with great ability, though with less brilliancy than usual; but on a renewal of the same
discussion a few days later in a different form, he made one of the finest speeches ever delivered
in Parliament." The speech referred to by Wilberforce was considered by Brougham to be the
greatest of all Pitt's speeches.
n 'Lfiiri.ig by A. D. IfcCormiek.
GAMI.NQ AT ALMACK'S. . .
A scene at the famous gambling establishment in St. James's, of which Fox and other political celebrities of his day were constant frequenters.
129 17
130
Parliament Past and Present
Tin- Mil»equent encounter, liet ween the two great -late-men -.-ned to bring out jn
more striking fashion tin- splendid qualities of each tin- finished eloquence and lucidity of
Pitt, and tin- amaxing delwting force and inriital alertness of Fox. Their gladiatorial contests
extending over a jH-riod of nearly a quarter of a century furnish a chapter in Parliamentary
hi*torv which for profundity of intere-t has not been ,-inee excelled in (lie personal rhalric-
of tin- ll"ii f Coiiiinoiis. and proliahly never will lie excelled. The t remendou- i--iie- which
U-f.ire Parliament during the time that the two orators were face to face ];.. donlit
i-i-ted largely to create the tini<|tip reputations which they ha\e left behind. Tin- Am.
war. the French Revolution, the impeachment of Warren Hastings, the I'nion with Ireland,
and the great war with France, and the linancial and jiolitical problems, arising mil of ii
these all supplied opjiort unit ies for statesmanship such us in the history of the country had
never previously lieeii afforded in an eijual number of years. How each of the rival- in his
way contributed to the coinnion stock of genius which is a precious heritage of St. Stephen',.
i» a story which must be read in detail. Our s]«ice will only permit of one further re|.
to the oratory of this magnificent Parliamentary era. The example i- the wonderful speerh ,.t
May iHth. 1803, in which Pitt defended his war policy. A squabble between the official- ,.('
the House and the rejiorters, which led to the exclusion of the latter from the gallery o:
particular night, has unfortunately deprived the world of an authentic report of the nratimi.
But of its sujM-rh qualities there can be no question, from the Mriking impiv— ion which it
made UJMIII those who heard it. Lord .Mai mesbury says of the speech: "It was the fine--
ever made ; never was a speech so cheered, never was there such incessant and loud applau-e ."
Another who was present (Mr. Ward, afterwards I/ord Dudley) gives a vivacious docription
of the whole scene: " Kr.-kine and Whitbread were heard with impatience, and when at the
close of a tedious hour and half Pitt
rose (twenty minutes to eight), t
was ju-t a violent and alm«»t uni\.
cry of 'Mr. Pitt! Mr. Pitt !' ||,
was then clieered before he had utt-
a syllable, a mark of approbation which
was repeated at almost all the brilliant
passages and remarkable sentiment-;
and when he .-at down (nine I there
followed one of the longe-t. n
Cciger, and most cut lm-iast ic bn
of applause I ever heard in any place
on any o<va>ion." As it \\a- the
greatest, it \\a> one of the la-:
Pitt's oratorical triumphs. Within
four \ears -the pilot that weathered
the storm'' was being carried amid
the grief of the nation to the g
Temple of Reconciliation acro-s the
way. In the same year Fo\ was laid
g to rest in the same place, the two
graves being only a few indie- from
each of her. It is to this circumstance
that Scott alludes in those beautiful
lines in Marmion : —
THE KKillT 1IOS. AIITHUU ONSLOW,
The gral Speaker of the ilotue of Commoni, who occupied the Chair for thirty-five
yean, praidlng orer the deliberation* of the Ilotue in fire nicer -«i\.- ParlianienU. i
Where, taming thought to human priile,
The mighty chiefs sleep side by side.
Drop upon Kox'.s grave the tear,
'Twill trickle to his rival's bier;
After the painting by John Jfoppner, R.A., in the National Portrait Gallery.
THE RIGHT HON. WILLIAM PITT,
("The younger Pitt"), whose splendid statesmanship contributed «o largely to bring the country successfully through the perils of the
Napoleonic period.
131
Parliament Past and Present
O'er Pitt's the mournful requiem sound.
And Fox's Khali the note* rebound.
The solemn echo seems to cry —
" Here let their discord with them die.
Speak not for those a separate doom,
Whom Fate made brothers in the tomb;
Hut xeurch the land of living men,
Where wilt thou find their like agent "
With the removal of the>e
giants of debate, the House of
('ominous lost the absorbing at-
tractiveness that had marked its
proceedings lor several decades pre-
viously. There now followed an
era in statesmanship only redeemed
from absolute mediocrity by the
xersatile ability and the scintillating
wit of George Canning.
Before, however, we take final
leave of the eighteenth century,
we must make reference to two
men who, though they never made
any great mark in the Hons •.
played a very conspicuous part in
the political and literary life of
the ]>eriod. \Ve refer to Edward
Gibbon, the historian, and Sir
Philip Francis, the reputed writer
of the " Letters of Junius." Widely
ENTRANCE TO ST. STEPHEN'S HALL, as they differed in many things,
the pair shared a common distaste
to oratory. Gibbon, who sat in eight Parliaments, never opened his mouth on any important
occasion. In his " Autobiography " he attributes his silence to prudence. " Timidity," he says,
••was fortified by pride, and even the success of my pen discouraged the trial of my voice."
" I am still a mute," he wrote on another occasion. " It is more tremendous than I imagined ;
the great speakers fill me with despair, the bad ones with terror." Sir Philip Francis, more
venturesome than Gibbon, often intervened in debate, but he had a hesitating delivery and
other defects which prevented his achieving even moderate success as an orator. One of
his speeches, however, merits notice as an exception to the rule of ineffective utterances. It
was delivered in the course of the debate on Pitt's India Bill. One of the provisions of this
measure abolished trial by jury for delinquents returning from India, and set up in its place a
new tribunal. '• I am not," said Francis, " an old man, yet I remember the time when such
an attempt would have aroused the whole country into a flame. Had the experiment been
made when the illustrious statesman the late Earl of Chatham enjoyed a seat in this assembly,
he would have sprung from the bed of sickness, he would have solicited some friendly hand to lay
him on the floor, and thence, with a monarch's voice, he would have called the whole kingdom
to arms to opi>ose it. But he is dead, and has left nothing in the world that resembles him.
He is dead ! and the sense, the honour, the character, and the understanding of the nation are
dead with him." " The repetition of the words ' He is dead,' " says Wraxall, who records the
incident, '-was attended with the finest effect; and the reflections produced by it involuntarily
attracted every eye towards the Treasury Bench, where sat his son. I have rarely witnessed a
moment when the passions were touched in a more masterly manner within the walls of the
House. The impression made by it on Pitt is said to have been of the deepest kind."
B> P. llucDoxtll, R.A.
STATUE OF W. PITT AT THE
B« E. II. Baity, R.A.
STATl'K OF C. J. FOX AT TICK
ENTRANCE TO ST. STEPHEN'S 1IAI.L.
CHAPTER XI.
WESTMINSTER HALL: ITS HISTORY AND TRADITIONS.
No part of the Houses of Parliament has so much to interest the visitor as Westminster Hall.
If the whole of the rest of the vast pile of buildings were swept away, this splendid structure
would still confer a unique distinction upon the site. It is not merely that it is a wonderfully
perfect and beautiful specimen of the architectural work of an age when hall construction
was carried to a high point of excellence ; it is not simply that it is a most interesting relic
of one of the oldest Royal palaces in Europe. Its claims to attention go far deeper than
considerations of this description, touching, in fact, the very foundations of our national
life ; for within its four walls have been enacted more of the leading events in the history
of England than have been witnessed by any other building devoted to purely civil uses in
existence. As Audience Chamber, Senate House, Palace of Justice, and Royal Banqueting Hall
it has filled a place in the life of the nation of stupendous interest and importance. Even the
great Abbey, with its venerable traditions, or the grey Tower of the Conqueror, with its absorbing
if sinister record, cannot vie with this ancient chamber in the fascination of its story and
the diversity of its points of interest. Unique in its architectural distinction, it occupies a
place apart from the great buildings of the country by reason of the poetry and tragedy of
its history, and the length and continuity of its national traditions.
The story of the building goes back to the
years immediately succeeding the Norman Conquest.
Its founder was William Rufus, who intended that
it should form a part of a magnificent palace to
take the place of the somewhat mean structure
which had served the purposes of the English rulers
from the time of the Confessor. The work was
commenced in the year 1097 and completed some
two years later. The King was abroad looking after
his troublesome subjects in Normandy during its
construction ; but he took a close interest in the
progress of the operations, and made it his first
business on his return in 1099 to inspect the build-
ing. According to an old chronicler, he was not
over pleased with the architect's handiwork. Replying
to a remark of some of his retinue that the building
was too large, William observed that " it was not
half so large as it should have been, and that it
was only a bedchamber in comparison with the
building which he intended to make." This was
probably merely a piece of Royal boasting, but un-
questionably the monarch's architectural designs were
conceived on a scale of much splendour. They were
not carried out, mainly for the prosaic reason that
133
WILLIAM KCFCS,
The founder of Westminster Hall.
134
Parliament Past and Present
VIi:\V (IF VVr.STMIXSTK.lt IX
Showing the Hall, with the LAW Courts adjoining dnignisl by Sir John Snnc.
the necessary supplies were unobtainable. The King was engaged in completing the work
begun in the reign of his predecessor upon the Tower of London, and the heavy demaadl
from this quarter, coupled with the expenses involved in dealing with his rebellious subjects.
completely depleted the exchequer. It is doubtful whether the plans ever even entered ujwn
the active stage. A tradition once existed that the foundations of a vast building "stretching
from the river of Thames even unto the highway" were discoverable by the diligent >( -archer,
but this was only a tradition. The work of Kufus practically began and ended with the Hall.
How much of the present Hall belongs to the time of its founder is a Mihject upon which
antiquarians have differed considerably. The most reliable authority, no doubt, is the late Mr.
.1. L. Pearson, K.A.. who was employed by the Government to act as its adviser when the change-
consequent upon the removal of the I^iw Courts were made in 1884. This gentleman e.\]>
the opinion, in his •• Keport on Westminster Hall," that "there remained only in 1834 a couple
of corridors and parts of a string-course on the east side to tell of its existence." Later
operations connected with the removal of the Law Courts resulted in the uncovering permanently
on the west side of a large portion of the earliest Norman walls, "fortunately in a fairly perfect
state of preservation." But despite this, what the visitor "of to-day sees of the Hall belong- to
a much later period than the early one in which its foundations were laid.
According to Mr. Pearson, there were fifteen distinct peritxls in which the building was
altered, excluding the occasion on which he himself was engaged. Henry II., Kit-hard I..
Henry III., and Edward III. all bad a hand in the renovation or restoration of the Hall. Mm
the sovereign to whom it owed most of its characteristic features is Kit-hard II. Previous to
his time there is reason to suppose that the building consi>ted of nave and aisles, the roof
being supported by timber posts. The King removed these obstructions, heightened the wall-
two feet, added the existing roof, a new northern porch and towers, and -divers lodging- " on
the west side, where the Law Courts until a few years since stood. By these changes tin-
building was completely transformed. Imposing as it had been before, it acquired a new
grandeur from the stateliness given to its proportions and the beauty of its roof. As it \\a-
left by Kit-hard II. we see it in all its essential features to-day. And what a noble vista it i- !
As an able historical writer1 remarks: "High above him, bay beyond bay, arch beyond arch.
stretches the unrivalled roof of
Cobwebless beams conceived of Irish wood,
once framed with the stout chestnut timber of Normandy's growth and the black oak of Ireland
1 The Uev. Mackenzie E. C. Walcott, " Memorial* of West minster," p. 247.
Westminster Hall : Its History and Traditions 135
by that cunning master of his craft, Henry Yevell, or Zenelly, between 1397 and 1399. Still
along the verge upon the upper wall, raised by King Richard two feet more in height, and
upon the shields borne by the angels, which supports the roof, the eye notes the badge of
the founder — the chained hart."
The beautiful roof has stood the test of time well. It was thoroughly repaired in the last
year of the reign of George III., when some forty loads of oak, the remains of old men-of-war
broken up at Portsmouth Dockyard, were introduced in substitution of unsound parts. Since
then repairs have been made from time to time, and in the nature of tilings a renovation will
be necessary again before many years are out ; but there is every reason to hope that the solid
work of Yevell will remain for the admiration of many future generations of Englishmen.
The changes made since Richard II.'s time in the internal arrangements of the Hall, though
they have not affected the structure to any material extent, are yet of considerable importance
and interest. Originally the Courts of King's Bench and Chancery held their sittings at the
south end of the Hall, as shown in Hollar's quaint" drawing. They were separated from each
other by a flight of steps and a passage communicating with a doorway leading to the House
of Commons. When Sir John Soane in 1824 built the range of Courts, demolished in 1884,
the great Hall was freed from the obstructions which had grown up at the south end of the
Hall in consequence of the sittings of the Court. Subsequently Sir Charles Barry's plan of making
the building the main approach to the House of Commons necessitated a still more striking
innovation. This was the setting back of the great south window and the creation of the
beautiful St. Stephen's Porch at the top of the flight of steps at the extreme end of the Hall.
The eminent architect would at the same time have raised the roof, " being thoroughly satisfied
of the practicablity of the process and of the great improvement of proportion which must result.''
But considerations of expense operated to prohibit this portion of his scheme. All things
considered, it is well, perhaps, that his hand was stayed. The work might not have been
INTERIOR OP WESTMINSTER HALL IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.
ThU ia believed to be the earliest view in existence of the Ilall. The curious arrangement of the Courts will be noted.
136
Parliament Past and Present
£zii:z%
WESTJ1INSTKK IS Till: KAltl.Y 1'AltT (IT Till: SKVKXTKKXTII CKXTI'KY.
A very early view of Weetmiiuter Hall and the adjacent Parliamentary building>. The perapective u somewhat faulty.
successful, and failure would have been almost a crime. As things are, we have the Hall in all
its ancient grandeur, incongruous, possibly, without, when seen in its modern setting, but within.
from its graceful lantern, utilised in old times to allow of the emission of smoke from the open
fire upon the floor, to the heraldic devices upon the walls, a perfect specimen of the great
chamber which for centuries served the purposes of a Royal Banqueting Hall and a Royal
Presence Chamber.
It has sometimes rjeen claimed for the Hall that it is the largest apartment unsupjKirted
by pillars in the world. But this is an error. Its dimensions — 290 feet long by 68 feet broad
and 92 feet high — are exceeded by those of the Hall of Justice at Padua and of some railway
stations. Nevertheless, whether regarded from the architectural or the historical standpoint,
it has a unique distinction amongst the great halls of the world.
Built originally to minister to the passion for regal pomp which was a characteristic
weakness of William Rufus in common with the other Norman Kings, the Hall was in its
early days the scene of much barbaric pageantry and feasting. Under its splendid roof-tree,
as we shall describe in detail in a subsequent chapter, have gathered countless hosts of Royal
guests at coronation feasts from the time of the first Henry until the accession of George IV
There also, in Norman times, it was the custom of the King, sitting on his throne, to keep
his Pentecost and Christmas and other great festivals, extending to enormous numbers of his
subjects the rude and profuse hospitality characteristic of the period. Royal marriage and
betrothal celebrat ions, too, were held in the Hall, to the accompaniment of much rejoicing and
merriment, and with a lavish flow of wine, not only in the chamber itself, but also in the
fountain in New Palace Yard. Nor was the use of the Hall, even at that period, confined to
festive gatherings. As the great public Audience Chamber of the King it was frequently the
witness of incidents of dramatic interest and high historic importance. It was in the Hall
that the faithless Henry III. received his outraged subjects on .March 7th, 1250, and by a show
of hypocritical contrition endeavoured to allay their just resentment. Old Matthew Paris has
supplied us with a vivid account of this scene in all its barefaced audacity. He tells us how,
by command of the King, the citizens of London assembled together before him at Westminster,
" even to the boys of twelve years old," and how " there was such a crowd of people the
mm llu Painting by Rtnjamin Ftrrtrt in tht National Portrait G.illtry.
THE COURT OF CHANCERY IN THE REIGN OF GEORGE I
4 Qiaalnl 1'letur*. tbowUif U» Qoort »llUn« In th» polltlan >t the upper «nd o( W»tmliuUr 11*11 « Inch Ik btd occupied lor MTtral oraturln.
Lori Chwwllor ¥««l..B.ld U tb. pruldlni Jtnl(.
Westminster Hall : Its History and Traditions 137
whole court was filled with them." Then the historian describes the farce which had been
prepared with much care by the wily monarch : " Being met together, the King humbly, as
if about to shed tears, entreated each one of the citizens with heart and voice to disavow
all kind of anger, malevolence, and rancour towards him ; for he publicly confessed that
he himself, but more frequently his servants, had in many ways injured them, taking away
their goods and retaining them, and in various respects encroaching on their rights and
liberties, wherefore he besought them to pardon him." The quaint record concludes by stating
that "the citizens, understanding that nothing further was required of them, consented
to all that the King required, although no restitution was made of what had been taken
from them."
A fitting pendant to this ancient and Royal version of the confidence trick was supplied
three years later in the same place by the same King, when he attended a great assembly of the
Lords spiritual and temporal convened to register his vow that if he failed to execute his engage-
ments, he would submit himself to excommunication. Gathering in the Hall, the prelates and
barons, each bearing a lighted taper in his hand, encircled the King while the curse of heaven
was invoked by the Archbishop of Canterbury on those who in future should in any respect violate
the two charters (the Magna Charta and the Charta de Foresta). Hands were lifted in air and
brows bared, and " the tapers were then extinguished and thrown, stinking and smoking, on the
ground, and the dire malediction uttered that the souls of every one who infringed the charters
' might thus be extinguished and stink and smoke in hell.' " Weirdly impressive in its rude
fervour, the episode was made additionally striking by the action of the King, .who closed the
Photo fcy 1C. S. Vitt*pl>tU. Copyright, Hutchi.uon <t Co.
'.I.M.I: U, VIEW OP WESTMINSTER HALL.
The Halt ii one of the largest in the world unsupported by pillars.
18
138
Parliament Past and Present
ceremony by declaiming these words: "S,>
may liod help me, I will inviolably observe all
these things, as I am a man and a Christ ian.
a knight and a crowned and anointed King." '
Solemn as the vow taken was, it was speedily
broken, and, as a consequence, on May 2nd.
1258, we find a very different gathering meet-
ing on (lie identical spot. It was an assembly
of the barons intent on extracting from the
King something more effective than a lightly
given promise. Clad in complete armour,
the barons presented a formidable and awe-
inspiring appearance. "Am I, then, a
prisoner? " faltered the trembling Henry when
his eyes lighted on the glittering array.
-Not so," responded Roger Bigod (tin- Karl
of Norfolk and Karl Marshal); "but as you.
sir. bv your partiality to foreigners and your
own prodigality, have involved the realm in
misery, we demand that the authority of
the State be delegated to commi^ioners. \vlio
shall have power to correct abuses and enact
salutary laws." The King was reluctant to
submit to so serious a curtailment of his pre-
rogatives; but the barons were insistent, and
eventually he submitted. Rather more than
a month later, at a Parliament assembled
at Oxford, a council of twenty-four barons
and prelates and twelve representatives of
the people was appointed to take over tin-
government of the country. Out of the-e
memorable incidents in Westminster Hall.
therefore, directly arose the modern system
of popular representation.
Of a different type from the scenes in
which Henry III. played so degrading a part,
but not less characteristic of the age, were
the stately courtesies paid in 1256 and 1260 to Alexander III. of Scotland and his Queen, and
the interesting ceremonial which accompanied the rendering of homage by the same King in
1274 and 1278 to Robert the Bruce, deputed to receive it in the presence of Edward I. as
his liegeman, for lands which he held in England. The festival honours paid in the Hall
at Christmastide, 1277, to Llewellyn, the unfortunate Prince of Wales, by his future conqueror
and oppressor, too, must be noted, as well as the orgies in which "the she-wolf of France"
and the worthless Piers Gaveston figured — orgies which scandalised the morality of even that
easy-going age. Nor must we forget that it was in this ancient Hall that the chivalrous
Edward the Black Prince was created Duke of Cornwall, and that it was in a chamber off
the south side of the building he ten years later breathed his last amid the laments of
the people, "as though the spring was taken from England's year." Reminiscent also of
the inspiring side of English history is the episode of a visit to the Hall on May 24th,
1357, after the battle of Poitiers, of the captive John, King of France. Clad in Royal robes
and riding upon a snow-white palfrey, the unfortunate King was "about three of the bell in
1 See illustration on page 11.
EDWARD THE BLACK PRINCE.
A reproduction of one of the paintingi from St. Stephen's Chapel. It
shims the Prince at the age of twenty-six.
from a draving by A. J). McC&nnitk.
HENBY III. AND THE BABOXS.
The famous scene in Westminster Hall in which the baroni coerced the monarch into a promise of constitutional privileges.
339
140
Parliament Past and Present
the afternoon ** received by the chivalrous Edward amid the strains of martial music and
the singing of hymns of praise by full-robed clergy. The Lord Almoner, the I»rd Mayor,
and a thousand citizens, including representatives of the great City guilds, followed in
the train, and on going to and returning from the Hall (lowers were strewn in the Royal
visitor'.- way. It was a noble tribute from one great soldier to a less fortunate one, and
was in keeping with the whole treatment of John during his detention. But the chains
galled, nevertheless. Rallied on one occasion by the gallant Edward on his melancholy, and
asked to join in some merry-making arranged in his honour, he replied in a voice shaken
with emotion, "Quomodo cantabimus canticum in terra aliena?" ("How shall we sing in
a strange land?") For some time longer the French monarch had to support as best he
might his gilded exile. We find him sitting at the high table in the Hall on Christmas
Day, 1358, with David, King of Scotland, who had come to Westminster to offer his
service in the French wars, as well as to arrange a treaty of commerce. It was not, in fact,
until after Edward had again invaded and ravaged France that John, in an interview with
Edward "in the chapel of the Palace at Westminster," ratified the Treaty of Renunciation
— so called because of the tenor of some of
its clauses — and paved the way to his liheia-
tion at Calais on October 16th, 1360.
Arising out of this formal termination
of the bloody feud which had existed so long
between England and France was a meeting
of Parliament in the Hall with some pictur-
esque accompaniments which throw an inter-
esting light on the tendencies of the age.
When the debates on the treaty had been
carried through and a cordial approval ex-
tended to the terms of the compact, a mass
in honour of the Holy Trinity was celebrated
in the Abbey Church by the Archbishop of
Canterbury. Thereafter the King and his
sons, standing erect in the presence of the
French hostages, " torches being lighted and
crosses held over the eucharist and missal."
witnessed the ceremony of all the English
peers present swearing " ujx>n the sacred
body of our Lord " to keep the peace which
had been agreed upon by the two Kings.
The meeting of Parliament in the Hall
noted in this connection was only one of many
assemblies called there in those remote da v -.
Marked out alike by its stately proportion!
and its close association with the Palace for
a Royal Council Chamber, the Hall was fixed
upon from the earliest period of its existence
for the holding of the periodical Councils of
State which the caprice or the needs of the
Norman Kings caused to be summoned. For
a time the gatherings were brought together
at irregular intervals, and were without any
EDWARD in definite form. But gradually a more complete
A npmlnrtlun of another of the ,-alotIng. from St. Stephen'. and Tegular System gTCW Up, Until about the
Ch.i«:i. it.buw. the King.ttheagcof fortj.four. year 1265, mainly as a result of the coercion
Westminster Hall : Its History and Traditions 141
THE PAINTED CHAMBER,
The most ancient building in the old Palace. It was here that Chatham's remains rested the night before their interment in Westminster Abbey.
exercised, as already described, upon the faithless Henry III., a Parliament, as we understand
the term, was held. To this knights were summoned as representatives of counties, and citizens
and burgesses for cities and boroughs. The City of London sent four citizens to represent it,
and ever since it has enjoyed this representation — a circumstance which testifies eloquently to
the historic continuity of our institutions. From this time forward Parliaments were systemati-
cally held, though at irregular intervals. On the separation of the two Houses, which probably
was carried out about the reign of Edward III., the building fell into disuse for Parliamentary
purposes, though from time to time functions of special importance affecting the Government
continued to be held there. These legislative traditions have been completely overshadowed
by subsequent memories of more dramatic interest ; but they must never be overlooked, for
in the Hall we see the veritable cradle of the British Constitution.
The last great public ceremony in Westminster Hall — the lying-in-state of the Eight
Hon. William Ewart Gladstone — demands some notice, as it was unique in the history
of the building. The remains of the great Chatham the night before the interment in the
Temple of Reconciliation hard by had rested in the Painted Chamber in the Palace adjoining,
where, if tradition may be relied on, the wasted frame of Edward the Confessor had been
prepared for the tomb seven hundred years previously. We have also noted that Edward the
Black Prince died in a chamber situated on the south side of the building. But Westminster
Hall itself, with all its historical associations, its pageants and pomps, its State trials and
Court festivities, had never previously been used for such a purpose as that to which it
was put on this recent occasion. Yet nothing could have been more appropriate, for through
this historic Hall the great statesman had frequently passed on his way to the House of
Commons ; and within a few yards of it he had commenced that dazzling career which took
him to the highest pinnacle of fame.
The arrangements for the ceremony were highly impressive. Brought in the early morn
from Hawarden Castle to Westminster, the remains of the aged statesman were .received
142
Parliament Past and Present
by his Grace the Duke of Norfolk. Earl .Marshal, attended by the officers at arms and the
Chaplain of the House of Commons (Archdeacon Wilberforce) in his clerical rolx-s. Tin- coffin
was placed in the centre of the Hall, ujton a raised bier, at the foot of which was a
white silk pall embroidered with gold bearing the inscription, " Heiinirm-ut in 1'iice" the
|Mill a gift to Mr. Gladstone by the Armenians, whose cause he hod so stoutly championed.
With touching simplicity the arrangements were carried out. No flowers or <1<
tions were placed in the Hall; no ostentatious emblems of woe figured in the picture.
At the comers of the bier four massive silver candlesticks with candles were placed,
and behind the head of the coffin stood an elaborate embossed brass cross, brought from
St. John's Church, Westminster. r'rom sunset to dawn relays of clergy maintained a
solemn vigil.
Elaborate arrangements for the admission of the public were devised by the authorities.
and admirably carried out. To regulate the movement of the great throng of mourners
barriers draped in black were erected from one end of the Hall to the other, allowing of a
jwssage on each side of the coffin, the two ranks meeting at the upper part of the building
near the St. Stephen's Porch, where the >exits were provided. Throughout the two davs that
the lying-in-state continued there was a continuous stream of humanitv pa-sing in gloomv
and reverent silence by the bier. Class distinctions were obliterated in the general de.-ire to
pay this last tribute to .the illustrious dead. In the throng were peers and legislator.-, judges
and great Church dignitaries, sharing
their common sorrow with the arti-an
in his working clothes, the policeman
off duty, and the soldier in uniform.
Passing up the steps at the end of
the chamber many lingered for a
few moments to take a final look at
the catafalque. From this vantage
point the scene presented was one of
extreme solemnity and impre-M\<>-
ness. The eye ranged. over a great
mass of people coming in from New-
Palace Yard and moving slowly along,
all turning their heads reverently
towards the coffin when pa— ing. and
many exhibiting signs of emotion,
the while an awed silence prevailed.
broken only by the rustling move-
ment of many feet. The effect was
heightened by the extreme simplicity
of the central object, standing in
its splendid isolation in the centre
of the chamber, and invoking, us it
seemed, the memories of six centuries
of national greatness which are en-
shrined within this stately edifice.
Now comes the last scene of
the ceremony — the removal of the
body to the grave prepared in the
Abbey. Shortly before this sad dut v
is discharged, Sir Benjamin Stone,
the member for East Birmingham,
with the special sanction of the
THK COMMONS KXIKAXCK TO WKST.MIXSTKK MALI,.
Th« K>le (Dtrurc to th« <>M HOUM of Corn mom wu through the Hall.
143
144
Parliament Past and Present
frot.t ' '- John Htitilt in the
Jialio,' ; tlltry.
.-\.Mri:i. IM.I-VS.
The diarUt, who wa» a frequent Tuitor to
Wortuiinrter Hall to purchaw bookt.
authorities, takes a photograph of the coffin as it has been
viewed by tens of thousunds of mourners in tin- prcviou-. two
days. Nature contributes her share to the success of tin-
effort. As the camera is being adjusted a my of bright
sunlight | tierces the gloom of the interior and falls softly
on the oaken casket, suffusing it with a sulxlued radiance.
Tims aided in his task, the talented operator secures a
priceless relic of a memorable e|ii.-ode in the life of West-
minster Hull to add to the unique series of historic photo-
graphs with which he has enriched the national collections.
.Meanwhile, the l/onls Spiritual and TeinjHiral. members of
the House of Peers, assemble in the House of Lords, and
members of the House of Commons in their House. Repre-
M-ntatives of her Majesty l^ueen Victoria, the Princes of the
Hoyal Blood, representatives of foreign sovereigns, friends
and the family of the deceased, and a deputation from
the Huwarden estate are assembled in the Hall. After
a short prayer from the Bishop of London, the officers of
arms marshal the procession. The various heralds are in
attendance, wearing plain black clothes in the place of their
State uniforms, and carrying white stoves. Portcullis and
Rouge Dragon Pursuivants-at-Arms lead the way for the
Sjteaker and members of the House of Commons. The
Speaker, wearing his full-bottomed wig and State robes, is preceded by the Sergeant -at -
Anns, wearing his silver chain of office and carrying the mace. The officers of the
HoiiM- of Commons accompany the Speaker. Proceeding slowly down the steps at the end
of the Hall, the Commons procession passes the coffin, and leads the way to the Abbey.
The members of the House of Lords follow next, led by the Lord High Chancellor in his
robes, the heralds accompanying them being the Windsor and the Richmond. RepresentativN
of foreign nations, escorted by the LancaMer Herald, follow the Peers, and then the
coffin is placed upon the shoulders of the bearers, the Earl .Marshal (the Duke of Norfolk)
walking in front, and five
juill-bearers on each side,
among them being H.K.H.
the Prince of Wales (now his
Majesty the King), H.K.H.
the Duke of York (now Prince
of Wales), the .Manjuis of
Salisbury, the Earl of Rose-
bery, the Duke of Rutland,
and the Earl of Kimberley —
all Knights of the Garter.
The Right Hon. Arthur J.
Balfour and Sir William
Vernon Harcourt, representing
the House of Commons, walk
beside their dead colleague,
and with them are Lord
Rendel and Air. George
Armitstead (ex-M.P.), both
intimate friends of the
deceased. Slowly the coffin
STAIKCASK IN WKSTM1SSTKK HALL,
Giving team t.. the Grand Committee Iloom in which the South Africa Committee ut.
Westminster Hall : Its History and Traditions 145
From a drawing by Gravclot.
THE FIRST DAY OP TERM, WESTMINSTER HALL.
This riew showi the Hall in the enrly part of the eighteenth century, with the bookcases and stalls, then a characteristic feature.
is borne to the simple hearse, merely a platform on wheels, drawn by two bay horses, and the
last great State ceremony in Westminster Hall is at an end.
In connection with the modern history of the Hall must be mentioned a scheme lately
under consideration for reviving the ancient Parliamentary use of the building. The proposal
arose out of the disorderly scenes witnessed in the House of Ixirds on the opening of the
first Parliament of the present reign by his Majesty the King. In the crush on this occasion
several members of the House of Commons were seriously hurt, and the episode altogether was
one which reflected small credit on the august' assembly. To obviate similar trouble in future
it was suggested that the opening of Parliament, instead of taking place in the Peers'
chamber, should be arranged, as in old days, in Westminster Hall. It was a distinctly
fascinating proposal, and one for which there was, primu facie, much to be said ; so the
Government appointed a Committee of both Houses, composed of some of the most eminent
members of each, to inquire into the feasibility of the scheme. The Committee met, and
held several sittings ; but its report, when forthcoming, was opposed to any change in the
cxi>ting arrangements.
Before taking final leave of the Hall, it is impossible not to make some reference to its
u-c through long centuries as a great gathering place of the public. At one time there were
bookstalls all round the interior of the building, and works were issued from it as from any
other publishing centre. This aspect of it is illustrated by the following extract from "Pepys'
Diary": "January 20, 1659. — At Westminster Hall, where Mrs. Lane and the rest of the maids
had their white scarfs, all having been at the burial of a young bookseller in the Hall."
19
146
Parliament Past and Present
A notable viator to Weitiuiniter Hall.
Again and again the diarist pays visits to the-
Hall in connection with tin- purchase of books.
It was also a mart of a different kind, a- niav lie
gathered from the versified description of the Hall
as it was in Henry V.'s reign, by Lydgate, monk
of Bury : —
Within this Hall neither reche nor yet poore
Would do for aught although I should dye ;
Which seeing I get me out of the doore.
Where Fleminge on me began for to cry,
" Master, what will you copen or buy ?
Fyne felt hatts, or spectacles to reede,
Ijiy downe yo' sylver, and here you may speede."
That the Hall was a mart for the sale of miscellaneous.
goods long after this is indicated by an allusion in
the epilogue to Wycherley's The Plain Dealer, where
we read : —
In the Hall of Westminster
Sleek sempstress vends amidst the Courts her wares.
Again, in Tom Brown's "Amusements," a work
published in 1700, we are given a lively description
of the bazaar-like character of the building. Enter-
ing the Hall, the visitor "was surprised to see in
the same place men on the one side with baubles and toys, and on the other taken up with
the fear of judgment, on which depends their inevitable destiny. In this shop are to be
sold ribbons and gloves, towers and commodes, by word of mouth; in another shop, hinds and
tenements are disposed of by decree. On your left hand you hear a nimble-tongued, painted
sempstress with her charming treble invite you to buy some of her knick-knacks; and on
your right a deep-mouthed cryer demanding impossibilities — viz., silence to be kept among
women and lawyers."
The stalls were gradually ousted from the Hall, but a thoroughly clean sweep was not
made of them until the Law Courts were removed to the Strand. Now you would as soon
expect to see anyone selling goods in St. Paul's Cathedral as you would in Westminster Hall.
Very properly the authorities exercise a jealous suj>ervision over the building, and allow in it
nothing inconsistent with its grand history and traditions.
In the eighteenth century the Hall was frequently the scene of great political meetings.
Such a use of the building at the present day would be impossible, but no one appears to
have objected to the procedure in those days— at least, we may infer this from the following
matter-of-fact statement which appears in a letter included in the Fox correspondence, relating
to a gathering held on February 2nd, 1780: "Meeting for a petition (in the Westminster
election business) in Westminster Hall. The Court party disjx-rscd handbills to represent the
dearness of coals, and thence to excite the people against the Duke of Richmond as enriched
by the coal tax. About three thousand persons met, headed by the I hike of Portland, tl.e
Cavendishes, Charles Fox, Richard Fitzpatriok, Wilkes, Sawbridge, Lord Temple, and the
Grenvilles, General Burgoyne, Burke, Townshends, etc. Charles Fox was placed in the chair.
Sawbridge moved the petition, and was supported by Wilkes; and a petition similar to that
of York voted, and a Committee of Ix>rds and others chosen. Charles Fox then made a fine
and warm speech, and was particularly severe on Lord North and the Duke of Northumberland.
Dr. Jebb proposed Mr. Fox for the future candidate for Westminster, which was received with
universal applause. Lord J. Cavendish and Charles Turner likewise spoke." To parallel this
gathering we must imagine the leaders of one or other of the great political parties calling
Westminster Hall : Its History and Traditions 147
in the Hall a mass meeting to settle some important partisan move. But the mind almost
declines to conceive such an act of sacrilege.
As a legal and judicial centre the Hall was long famous, apart from its association with
State trials and political impeachments. Men who are still in middle age can readily recall
the gathering of long-robed and bewigged gentry who daily thronged its ample floor and gave
to the place a characteristic appearance. This was an aspect it had worn for centuries.
Peter the Great, when he came to London, was taken to the Hall as one of the sights,
and seeing so many men in peculiar costumes about, he asked who they were. On being
told that they were lawyers, he grimly remarked that he had but two in his dominions,
and that he believed he would hang one of them up the instant he got home again.
The character of the building as a place of public assembly, and its proximity to the Law
Courts, suggested it as the most suitable place in which to put into execution primitive
decrees carrying with them personal humiliation. One case recorded in the national archives
is that of Sir Thomas Lake, Mary, his wife, and Sarah Swarton, who, on being convicted
in 1618-19 of slandering the Countess of Exeter, were ordered "to be whipped at the cart's
tail from the prison to Westminster, there to be marked with the letters F. and A. for a
false accuser, and to be whipped to Cheapside, and then remain in prison in Bridewell during
his Majesty's pleasure." The disciplinary measures of which the Hall was the scene were
not confined to the general public. There is a case recorded in the Hatfield Papers,
under date 1588, which indicates that disreputable counsel were brought under the lash of
public censure in the building. The proceedings referred to touch the case of one Gilbert
Sherrington, of Gray's Inn, who was convicted of procuring Jean Scolcroft and Eichard
Brereton to retract depositions they had made. The offending knight of the long robe was
first fined £'200, and then, on refusing submission, was fined a further sum of 1,000 marks,
"adjudged to be expelled out of Gray's Inn, and sequestered from his practice for ever."
Then, as a final stroke of judicial severity, it was ordered " that he should go about
Westminster Hall one day in the term time (the judges sitting in the Courts there) with
a paper on his head declaring his offences for example and warning to others." The Bar has
its black sheep in these days, but wisely it does not make a public parade of them.
In connection with this case of subornation, it may be mentioned that a once familiar
figure which haunted Westminster Hall was the hireling witness. Perjured wretches were
wont to parade themselves
in the Hall, a straw worn
in their ears being the
recognisable badge of their
shame. Sometimes they
had to stand in the pil-
lory in the adjacent Palace
Yard for their offences.
But more often they escaped
without punishment, owing
to the laxity of the age.
It is possible that there is
quite as much false swear-
ing to-day as there ever
was, but it is something
to the good that there is
no open bartering of the
truth in the ante-chamber
OLD PALACE YABD IN THE EIGHTEENTH CE.NTUBY. Of Justice.
r HAITI: i! xn.
WESTMINSTER If ALL: MEMORABLE TRIALS.
INTKKESTIXG as are the legislative associations of
\\V-tmin-ti-r Hall, it is in its aspect as a judicial
centre that it has the greatest claims to recognition.
From the time of the earliest Norman Kings to
the reign of Victoria it was the great pivot around
which our judicial system revolved. For several
hundred years it was the actual home of ini]>ortant
branches of the judiciary. The connection of the
Hall with the law grew out of the traditional
association of the monarch with the dispensation of
justice. The King was not only the sovereign head
of his people ; he was the fountain of justice. It
was. therefore, essential that in the Palace there
should be one spot where disputes could be adjusted
and the law administered in all cases where the
intervention of the Crown was necessary. At the
outset some of the rooms of the Palace were u-''<!
for this purpose; but soon the centre of interest
gravitated to Westminster Hall, whose majestic
proportions and superb architecture rendered it
peculiarly suitable for the impressive ceremonial of
the law. In early da}'s the King dispensed justice
in person. Seated on his throne at the upper end
of the Hall, with all the great officers of State
grouped about him, he listened to the complaints of aggrieved subjects. In theory it \va-
a magnificent system ; in practice it worked out badly, for as the King moved about, the
Courts had to move with him ; and so an element of uncertainty was introduced into the
procedure which must have added enormously to the expense of justice while it detracted
from its efficiency. Eventually the powers were delegated, and the Courts were permanently
settled in Westminster Hall. Up to eighty years ago the Courts of Chancery and King's
Bench actually sat in the Hall itself ; the other Courts were distributed about the apartments
of the Palace situated in immediate proximity to it. This system continued until the year
1820, when an extensive clearance was made on the north side of the Hall of the old buildings;
and upon the site was erected, under the architectural supervision of Sir John Soane, a range
of buildings which accommodated the whole of the Courts. Here the administration of justice
centred until the new Palace of Justice arose in the Strand and provided a habitation more
Miiti'd to the modern requirements of the law.
Around the venerable walls of the great Hall cluster many traditions connected with the
dispensation of justice. The famous incident of Prince Hal's outbreak fills one of the best-
known pages of English hi>tory. One of the Prince's boon companions had been arraigned for
robbery, and, in order to overawe the judge, the Prince decided to be present. But the
occupant of the Bench, Sir William Gascoigne, was a man of strong fibre, and, unmindful of
148
f Uu paintinff by Sir Tliomtu Lawrence, P.R.A.
SIR JOHN SOANE, B.A.,
The well-known Parliamentary architect, who designed the
old Law ConrU attached to Weatmiiutcr Hall.
Westminster Hall : Memorable Trials
149
the prisoner's princely patron, he condemned him as his offence deserved. Upon this Prince
Henry attempted to rescue the prisoner at the Bar, and for his pains received a stern
admonition from the judge. Incensed at this, the Koyal brawler sprang up as if to slay him
or pluck him from his chair. Gascoigne still was not intimidated. Asserting " the majesty
of the King's place of judgment," he committed the Prince to prison in the King's Bench.
Conscious of his error, the impetuous Prince sheathed his sword and quietly submitted to the
officers of justice. In the beautiful scene in The Second Part of Henry IV. where Prince
Henry, as Henry V., meets the Chief Justice, we have a fitting sequel to this moving episode.
The Chief Justice, prompted by a remark of the King, justifies his action : —
Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours ;
Be now the father and propose a son,
Hear your own dignity so much profaned,
See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted,
Behold yourself so by a son disdain'd ;
And then imagine me taking your part,
And in your power soft silencing your son :
After this cold considerance, sentence me ;
And, as you are a king, speak in your state
What I have done that misbecame my place,
My person, or my liege's sovereignty.
The King, with the ardour of a generous nature, handsomely acknowledges the justice of the
judge's action : —
You did commit me :
For which, I do commit into your hand
The unstained sword that you have used to bear;
With this remembrance, that you use the same
With the like bold, just, and impartial spirit,
As you have done 'gainst me.
The incident of Henry's attack on the judge, as Knight points out, has a rather striking
parallel in an episode recorded in the
Placita Roll of the 34th of Edward I. :
"Roger de Hexham complained to the
King that whereas he was the justice
appointed to determine a dispute between
.Mary, the wife of William de Brewes,
plaintiff, and William de Brewes, defend-
ant, respecting a sum of 800 marks which J^H it ••• -V^P-P .*
, , . , - . . KdlHKl ?(>'•; *!*£'* '«§f- O>
she claimed from him, and that, having
decided in favour of the former, the said
William, immediately after judgment was
pronounced, contemptuously approached
the bar and asked the said Roger in
gross and upbraiding language if he would
defend that judgment ; and he afterwards
insulted him in bitter and taunting terms
as he was going through the Exchequer
Chamber to the King, saying to him,
'Roger, thou hast now obtained thy will
of that thou hast so long long desired.' "
William de Brewes, when arraigned for
this offence before the King and Council,
admitted his guilt, " and because," con-
tinues the record, "such contempt and
disrespect as well towards the King's
Ministers as towards the King himself or
THE OLD LANDING PLACE Full THE PALACE OP WESTMINSTER.
It shcm» Buckingham embarking for the Tower after his trial in Westminster
Hall.
150
Parliament Past and Present
Afltr Hotlxi*.
SIR THOMAS M..I:I .
his Court are very odious to the King, as of late expressly
appeared when his Majesty exjM'lled from his household for
nearly half a year his dearly Moved son Edward, Prince of
Wales, on account of certain improper words which he had
addressed to one of his Ministers, and suffered him not to
enter his presence until he had rendered satisfaction to the
said officer for his offence ; it was decreed by the King and
Council that the aforesaid William should proceed unattired,
bareheaded, and holding a torch in his hand, from the King's
Bench in Westminster Hall during full Court to the
Exchequer, and here ask jwrdon from the aforesaid Roger
and make an apology for his trespass."
Most of the great State trials recorded in our history
have been held within the four walls of this magnificent
chamber. Foremost in the long list Of historic names WDO was tried anil condemned in Westminster Hall
handed down to us in this connection is that of Sir
William Wallace, gallantest of soldiers and patriots, and
most chivalrous of men. Taken prisoner through the treachery of his countrymen, he was
conveyed to Ix>ndon, and placed upon trial for his life in the Hall. A contemporary account
of the proceedings1 furnishes an interesting picture of the trial. From this it is to be
gathered that Wallace was conducted to the Hall on August 23rd, 1305, by his gaoler, Sir John
de Segrave, who was attended by the mayor, the sheriffs, and the aldermen, and a great train of
people. The prisoner was placed on a scaffold at the south end of the Hall with a laurel wreath
about his brow, in mockery of what was said to have been his boast, that he would wear a crown
in that Hall. Peter Malory (the Justiciar of England), Segrave Blunt, the mayor, and two others
were the judges appointed for the trial. When the Court met, Malory charged Wallace with
being a traitor to King Edward and other crimes, but the patriot answered spiritedly that he had
never been a traitor to the King of England, as he did not owe him allegiance. On the same day
sentence was given by Malory in the following terms : " William W'allace, a Scot, and of
Scottish descent, having been taken prisoner for
sedition, homicides, depredations, fires, and felonies,
and after our lord the King had conquered Scotland,
forfeited Baliol, and subjugated all Scotsmen to his
dominion as their King, and had received the oath
of homage and fealty of prelates, earls, barons, and
others, and proclaimed his peace and apjiointed his
officers to keep it through all Scotland ; you, the
said William Wallace, oblivious of your fealty and
allegiance, did, along with an immense number of
felons, rise in arms and attack the King's officers
and slay Sir William Hezelrig, Sheriff of Lanark,
when he was holding a Court for the pleas of the
King; did with your armed adherents attack villages,
towns, and castles, and issue brieves, as if a superior,
through all Scotland, and held Parliaments and
assemblies, and not content with so great wickedness
and sedition, did counsel all the prelates, earls, and
barons of your l>arty to submit to the dominion of
the King of France, and to aid in the destruction
of the realm of England ; did with your accomplices
invade the counties of Northumberland, Cumberland,
r /MI,:,
JOHN FISHER, BISHOP OP ROCHESTKK,
WhoM opposition to the divorce of Henry VIII. from Anne
Bolej-n cost him bil life.
1 "Chronicles of Edward I. and Edward II," Rolls Series.
Westminster Hall : Memorable Trials
and Westmoreland, burning and killing every
one who used the English tongue, sparing
neither age nor sex, monk nor nun ; and
when the King had invaded Scotland with
his great army, restored peace, and defeated
you, carrying your standard against him in
mortal war, and offered you money if you
surrendered, you did despise his offer and
were outlawed in his Court as a thief and
felon according to the laws of England and
Scotland ; and considering that it is contrary
to the laws of England that any outlaw
should be allowed to answer in his defence,
your sentence is that for your sedition and
for making war against the King, you shall
be carried from Westminster to the Tower,
and from the Tower to Aldgate, and so
through the City to the Elms at Smithfield,
and for your robberies, homicides, and felonies
in England and Scotland, you shall be there
hanged and drawn, and as an outlaw beheaded,
and afterwards, for your burning churches
and destroying relics, your heart, liver, lungs,
and entrails from which your wicked thoughts
came shall be burned, and finally, because
your sedition, depredations, fires, and homicides
were not only against the King, but against
the people of England and Scotland, your head shall be placed on London Bridge, in sight both
of land and water travellers, and your quarters hung on gibbets at Newcastle, Berwick, Stirling,
and Perth, to the terror of all who pass by."
This was one of the earliest of the great State trials held in Westminster Hall. More than
two hundred years later, on May 13th, 1522, another unfortunate figure in history— Edward
Stafford, Earl of Buckingham — took his stand at the bar in the Hall to answer charges of
treason. Dupe of a wretched astrologer, his guilt was clear, and at the hands of his relative,
the Duke of Norfolk, he received the dread sentence of a traitor. Just thirteen years later
Sir Thomas More, broken in health by long imprisonment, but undaunted in spirit, was seen
on the same spot hearing his doom pronounced by a sycophantic tribunal, the too willing
tool of Henry VIII. As he was led out of the Hall, his son, brushing through the ranks
of the soldiery, fell sobbing on his father's neck and implored the guards to allow him to
share his parent's fate. The pathetic incident made a great impression on those who witnessed
it, but nothing could move the merciless King, though history records that when he received
the news that the decree had been executed, he abandoned his play at the tables and shut
himself up alone in his room to commune with his bitter thoughts. His remorse, if remorse
it was, was transient, and soon fresh victims were forthcoming to appease his insatiable lust for
blood. On June 17th, 1535, a little over a month after More's condemnation, John Fisher, Bishop
of Rochester, who had committed the crime of opposing the tyrant's divorce, was arraigned in
the Hall for treason. Calm in the possession of a clear conscience and a good understanding,
he met his inevitable doom with a cheerfulness that amazed those about him. One day soon
after the trial, a rumour having gone forth that he was to go to his execution, his servant omitted
to prepare his dinner. Addressing the man, he said: "Well, for all that report, thou seest me yet
alive ; and, therefore, whatsoever news thou shalt hear of me hereafter, let me no more lack my
dinner ; and if thou see me dead when thou comest, then eat it thyself; but I promise thee, if I
HENRY VIII. IX WESTMINSTER HALL,
Presiding at the trial of Lambert for heresy.
152
Parliament Past and Present
be alive. I mean by God's grace to eat never a whit the less." More fortunate than this worthy
prelate. William Lord Daore, who was tried in the Hall on July Oth, 1535, was acquitted, his In-ing
jwrhaps the only instance of n man of deduction singled out for vengeance escaping Hcnn's toil-.
The I'rntect.ir S.uuervt ; his rival, Northumberland: Henry (iivy, Duke of Suffolk;
Sir Thomas Wyatt ; Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk; l'hili|> Karl of Arundel ; Robert
Devereux. Kurl of K—.-\. arc other names which figure in the roll of pri>oner> condemned
within the Hall in this troublous Tudor period. Even more crowded with these fateful
tragedies is the record of the building in the following century. First in chronological order
we have Guy Fawkes and his co-conspirators in the Gunpowder Plot, who recencd here, in
January. 1600, that frightful sentence of the traitor which was afterward-, carried out with
a faithfulness to detail as ivalii-tic as it was inexpressibly horrible.
Another name indelibly impressed u[ion the judicial records of the apartment is that of
Thomas Wentworth. Karl of Strafford, who for eighteen days in 1640 stood his memorable trial
in the presence of the King and Queen and the two Houses of Parliament and a vast
gathering of people. Most elaborate arrangements were made for the safe custody of the
prisoner. Daily the prisoner was brought from the Tower escorted by six barges, each rowed
by fifty |»airs of oars and manned with troops. All about Palace Yard, King Street, and
Whitehall troops were stationed. Inside the Hall was the flower of the aristocracy, with
Charles and his consort amongst the most eager and absorbed of the spectators. It was said
by Sir John Denham, in the well-known couplet, that
Each seemed to act the part he came to see,
And none was more a looker-on than he.
From a conltMporary p, '.
"THE TBUE MA M.I: OK TUB SITTING OP THE I.OKDS AND COMMONS OK BOTH HOWSES OK PARLIAMENT UPON THE
TBYAI, OF THOMAS KAHI.K OF 8TKAFKOBU, LOBU LIEUTENANT OF IBELAUD."
Westminster Hall : Memorable Trials
153
But Strafford's moving defence testifies that
the writer's observation must have been at
fault. Pointing to his children, who stood
beside him, he said : " My lords, I have now
delayed your lordships longer than I should
else have done. But for the interest of these
dear pledges, which a departed saint in heaven
has left me, I should be loth " Here a
flood of tears checked his utterance. " What
I forfeit for myself, it is nothing ; but I
confess that my indiscretion should forfeit
for them, it wounds me very deeply. You
will please pardon my infirmitv. Something
I should have said ; but I see I shall not
be able, and therefore I leave it. And now,
my lords, I thank God that I have been, by
His blessing, sufficiently instructed in the
extreme vanity of all temporary enjoyments
compared to the importance of our eternal
duration. And so, my lords, even so with
all humility, and with all tranquillity of
mind, I submit clearly and freely to your
judgments ; and whether that righteous doom
be to life or death, I shall repose myself, full
of gratitude and confidence, in the arms of
the Great Author of my existence. Te deum
laudamus."
Strafford's trial was followed after the
lapse of nine years by that of his Koyal
master. This arraignment of Charles I. is
without doubt the greatest and most moving
event in the whole history of Westminster
Hall. Now, more than two and a half
centuries after it happened, it exercises over the least impressionable visitor a peculiarly
solemn influence as, taking bis stand on the identical spot where the monarch stood
during the four days the proceedings lasted, he reviews in his mind the tremendous
events which flowed from that episode. To describe the trial here would be a work of
supererogation. The picture of Bradshaw in his scarlet robes, sitting in all the panoply of
judicial state surrounded by myrmidons of the triumphant Parliamentary party, who with
him acted as the King's judges, is still a vivid memory. Who cannot recall from the
reading of his schooldays the pathetic spectacle presented by the King as, divested of honours,
but maintaining undiminished his sovereign dignity, he tenaciously challenged the right of the
tribunal to sit in judgment over him? Who does not remember the courageous protest of
the noble Lady Fairfax, her denunciation of Cromwell, and her sharp remark when her husband's
name was called as a member of the Court, "He has more wit than to be here"? Who
has forgotten that touching act of devotion on the part of one of the guards, who, as
the fallen King was being led out of the Hall on the last day of the trial, January 27th,
exclaimed in tones of eager sympathy, "God bless you, sire," a remark which earned for him
a stinging blow from his superior officer's cane ? Equally familiar is the dramatic scene of
a few years later — a direct consequence of the trial — in which Cromwell, clad in a robe of
purple velvet lined with ermine, and holding the sceptre in one hand and the Bible in the
other, was proclaimed Ix>rd Protector in the Hall amid the acclamations of a subservient
20
Pram a cont€mporar>i print.
THE TRIAL OP CHARLES I. IN" WESTMINSTER HALL.
154
Parliament Past and Present
Till: DKATH WABBAJiT OF CHABLES I.
Photou'Mi 'hr.l .-] • ci:illv from the original in tbe HOUM of Lorda.
following. These are all matters which go to make up some of the best-known pages of
English history. But, indeed, the story of Westminster Hall so teems with great hi.-torio
memories that it is difficult to separate its history from that of the country as a whole.
While the recollection of Charles I.'s downfall was still vivid, the seven bishops — Sancmft.
Lloyd, Trehuvnev. White, Turner, Ken, and I^ake — were at the end of June, 1688, brought
from the Tower by water to the Hall to stand their trial for declining to accept Jain > - II.'.-
Indulgenee. Vast crowds of people lined the banks and poured their blessings upon the bisho]>-
as they passed by. In the train of the prisoners went a distinguished body of noblemen and
gentlemen of influence. On every side, even in the judgment chamber, their eyes ranged o\er
sympathetic faces. After their triumphant acquittal, the popular demonstrations were redoubled
in fervour. People fought with their escort for the privilege of touching their hands or kissing
the hems of their garments. Bystanders implored their blessing with an earnestness which
betokened their belief in the piety as well as the patriotism of the seven. So embarr.i-i-ing
did the attentions of the mob at length become, that the bishops had to be smuggled to their
homes by devious routes. Meanwhile the news of their acquittal, spreading like wildtire. \va<
carried to James, who was reviewing a body of troops on Hounslow Heath, and it struck terror
into his pusillanimous heart. A few months later he was a fugitive from the kingdom he
had misruled.
Although this episode closed the period of acute turmoil in which the country had Ix-en
left from the time of Charles I.'s differences with his Parliament, Westminster Hall was in
the succeeding eighteenth century to witness many striking trials arising out of the political
discords of the period. There was, for example, the impeachment of Dr. Sache\eivll on
February 27th, 1710, for having in two of his pulpit discourses been too free in his critici-ms
of the actions of the .Ministry. At this time of day it is difficult to reali>e the extent to
which men's minds were stirred by this judicial event. All the skill of statesmanship, all the
eloquence of the Bar and the Bench, were invoked in the course of the trial, and during the
several days it la>ted Westminster Hall and its precincts were crowded with people of all
classes eagerly intent on learning how the impeachment progressed. Eventually the doctor got
off with the mild sentence of a three years' suspension — a punishment which only served
to enhance his notoriety and to add to his strongly pronounced vanity. As one writer aptly
puts it, "Prayed for even in the Royal Chapel as a person under persecution, escorted to
Westminster Hall : Memorable Trials
155
Westminster by enthusiastic friends, riding in the same chariot with the Vice-Chancellor of
Oxford through a chorus of huzzas, the idol of lovely women, who had his portrait painted on
their fans and kerchiefs, the hero of the multitude, the champion of the Church, feted by the
London citizens, presented with three thousand guineas by one munificent devotee, Dr.
Sacheverell found himself suddenly famous, a martyr without the pangs of martyrdom, a hero
without heroism." In the long list of prisoners who were brought to trial in the historic
edifice there was probably not one whose fate excited greater popular interest or who was les?
in need of sympathy. After his trial he made a triumphal progress to his living in Shropshire.
" Presents of wine, chaplets of flowers, thanks by mayors, speeches of recorders, the firing of
cannon, ringing of bells, processions headed by three thousand gentlemen on horseback, bonfires
and illuminations, attested the gratitude of the country to their clerical deliverer." When his
period of suspension was over, Dr. Sacheverell, by special request, preached before the House
of Commons at St. Margaret's Church. Afterwards he had a substantial reward for his " suffer-
ings " in the wealthy incumbency of St. Andrew's, Holborn.
Of a sterner type were the next persons who were arraigned in Westminster Hall, and
far different was their fate. The prisoners were Viscount Kenmure, the Earl of Derwentwater,
the Earl of Carnwath, and the Lords Widdrington and Nairn, whose devotion to the Jacobite
cause won for them the attentions of the Crown. Kenmure and Derwentwater suffered for
their generous indiscretion at the block, while Nithisdale escaped from the Tower through the
connis-ance of his wife, who dressed him in her woman's attire and remained in the cell while
he made his liberty sure. The " Trial of the Rebel Lords," as this episode was called was
ly pcrmiuion of the Aft Union of London from thtir large plat* of the picture by C. II'. Cope.
THE FUNERAL OF CHARLES I.
One of a «eriei of paintings designed for the decoration of the new Houses of Parliament.
156
Parliament Past and Present
DR. -V III. \ l.i:i:l.l.,
VTboM trial in Wotminitcr Hall created a (Treat Kiua-
tion in the airly put jf the eighteenth century.
followed, after the interval of a twelvemonth, by tlie
arraignment, on his own jictition, of Robert llailey. Karl
of Oxford. Impii-oned on tin- outbreak of the t'i\il
\Varon suspicion of being concerned in the trannctioni
arising out of the escape of Bolingbroke, Harley had
languished in the Tower for nearly two years alino>t
forgotten. His reminder to hi- a.vu-er- nf his existence
secured for him the trial at Westminster Hall, with
the characteristic accompaniment of the headsman with
axe und hlock. Notwithstanding the jn-esence of these
picturesque adjuncts of a treason trial, an air of unreality
marked the proceedings from the liegiiming. The
rea-ons which had dictated Hurley's arrest in the first
instance had to a large extent lost their four, and,
moreover, the Duke of Marlborough and other high-
placed personages had abundant reason for preventing a
serious pressing of the charges. So it came about that
when some time had been expended in the di-ci.
of technical points of procedure, the Peers acquitted
Harley and dismissed the impeachment. The I'ommon-.
however, to save their credit, voted an address to the
throne to except the earl from the act of grace.
piv--ing their regret at being reduced to the necessity either of having to give up rights
and privileges of the highest importance, or seeing this offender escape with impunity for
the present. The earl lived for some years after his trial — long enough to clear his reputa-
tion from the taint of treason. But there are circumstances in his conduct of public aff.iir.-
which are not incompatible with the theory that he allowed his party zeal to outrun his regard
for his country's honour.
Dealing further with the judicial history of Westminster Hall, we may note in brief detail
several trials which followed that of Harley. First, there appear upon the stage the rebel
lords of 1745 — Crornartie, Kilmarnock, and Balmerino. The trial was conducted with much
solemnity, and was marked by some moving incidents, notably the pathetic plea of Cromartie
for his life — a plea which was finally successful — and the action of the gallant Balmerino in
lifting up a child that desired to see him as he passed to the place of judgment. (Quickly
succeeding this trial came on March 19th following the arraignment of J/ord I,o\at. ••tin-
brutal chief of a trembling clan," whose duplicity and chicane had alienated hi> friends and
incensed his foes. Arrested in Scotland under romantic circumstances familiar to every student
of Scottish history, the old chieftain was brought by easy stages to London. At St. Allans
he was met by Hogarth, who had some acquaintance with him, and the great artist then-
sketched that wonderful portrait of him which is amongst the treasures of the National Portrait
Gallery. A remarkable success attended this bit of artistic enterprise. Promptly engra\ed.
impressions of the work found such a ready sale that the press was kept running night and
dav to keep pace with the public demands. Meanwhile, "the Fox of the North." put upon
his trial in Westminster Hall, was conducting himself with characteristic guile. Bereft of the
aid of counsel under the rule which denied such assistance to those charged with treason, he
ably defended himself, endeavouring to shift the burden of his crime upon the shoulder- of
his son. The old peer was endowed with a gift of mordant humour, which he e\erei-ed during
his examination unsparingly. When the first witness, who happened to be one of his servant-.
was called, he exclaimed, "How dare you, sirrah, appear without your master's orders r"
Afterwards, when imited by the Lord High Steward to question Sir K. Falkener, who had
given evidence against him, he stated that he had no wish to examine the witness, hut he
added he was his obedient servant, and wished him all joy with his young wife. I»\at's
157
158
<
Parliament Past and Present
A QCAINT PRINT OK l.olll) K1LMAUNOUK AND THK OTHER REBEL LORDS ISSUED AT THE TIME OF THEJR 1 I
IX WESTMINSTER HALL.
guilt was too manifest for any but one result. In due form the dread penalty of the traitor's
crime was passed upon him. As he was led away Lord Lovat fired a parting shot at his
judges. " Fan-well, my lords," he said, with studied politeness, "we shall never meet ;
in the same place. I am sure of that." When a few days later the old man \\;i
to execution on Tower Hill, he displayed a similar spirit of grim pleasantry. In the
course of the morning a portion of the scaffold fell, causing the death of several people.
"The more mischief, the more sport," was his sardonic commentary. Again, when he hail
ascended with difficulty to the platform on which the block was placed, and cast hi>
over the seething mass of people all around, he remarked to a bystander, " Why should
there be such a bustle about taking off an old grey head that cannot get up three step*
without two men to support it?" He died, in fact, as he had lived— a hardened cynii-,
looking upon all things human as mere incidents in a great game in which honour and right-
dealing were amiable weaknesses, and a low cunning and unscrupulousness were the essentials
to success.
A prisoner of a different type from Lord Lovat next stood at the judgment bar in the Mall.
This was I^aurence Shirley, Karl of Ferrers, who was accused of the murder of his steward. Mr.
Johnson, at Stanton, in I^eicestershire. Lunacy was pleaded in extenuation of the act ; but his
trial, which was conducted under circumstances of great impressiveness, failed to justify the
defence. He was hanged at Tyburn on May 5th following his trial in the presence of a \a-t
crowd. Five years afterwards, on April 17th, 17(!f>, William Lord Byron was put upon his
trial in the Hall for the murder of William Chaworth in a duel arising out of a tavern luawi
at the Star and Garter in Pall Mall. In that easy-going age it was not difficult to lind
••extenuating circumstances" in such a case. Convicted of murder, Lord Byron eventually
regained his freedom by claiming his privilege as a peer.
In striking contrast to these proceedings was a later trial held within the Hall. It was
the arraignment of the Duchess of Kingston, the erstwhile maid of honour to the Priin1'-*
of Wales, for bigamy. This lady, young and beautiful, had had a chequered career, which had
in it little to recommend her to favourable notice. \et such was the caprice of the day that
her trial for the serious ofifence of marrying Evelyn Pierrepoint during the lifetime of her
159
i6o
Parliament Past and Present
SKETCHES MADE BY HOGARTH AT THE TRIAL OF LORD LOVAT.
husband. Captain Honey. Karl of
l'>ri-t<>l. was converted into some-
tiling littli- short of a trinin]ili
for her vanity. Crowds thronged
the approaches to tin- Hall during
the progress of the trial, and
ladies in all the brilliancy of
Court dress graced the pceiv-
benches within. 15y a judicious
display by the lair sinner of
emotion at the right moment,
the judges were induced to avoid
the enactment of the penalty
for the offence — the branding of
the prisoner's right hand upon
the block. Mrs. I'itt. who was a
spectator of the trial, writing to
Horace Mann during its progress,
gave an interesting picture of the
proceedings. "I am persuaded," she wrote, "that the duchess is not in the least degree
humbled by her position, but mightily pleased with herself for having secured so brilliant a
house. People fought and struggled for their places, just as they do at the opera on a
great night." The trial, in fact, was little removed from a farce. Its chief result was to
furnish gossiping writers with a congenial topic, and add to the records of State trials an
instance of judicial frivolity to relieve their general gloom.
Tremendous as was the excitement aroused by the proceedings in the Duchess of
Kingston's case, the trial was quite surpassed in public interest by the memorable impeach-
ment of Warren Hastings, which, commencing on February 13th, 1788, lasted for seven
years. The inimitable descriptive pen of Macaulay has given us a vivid word-picture of
the wonderful scene which was presented on the opening day of the trial : " The grey old
walls were hung with scarlet. The long galleries were crowded by an audience such as
has rarely excited the fears or the emulation of an orator. There were gathered together
from all parts of a great, free, enlightened, and prosperous empire grace and female loveli-
ness, wit and learning, the representatives of every science and every art. There wen-
seated round the Queen the fair-haired young daughters of the House of Brunswick. There
the ambassadors of great Kings and commonwealths gazed with admiration on a spectacle
which no other country in the world could present. There Siddons, in the prime of
her majestic beauty, looked with emotion on a scene surpassing all the imitations of the
stage. There the historian of
the Koman Empire thought of
the days when Cicero pleaded
the cause of Sicily against Verres,
and when, before a Senate which
still retained some show of
freedom, Tacitus thundered
against the oppressor of Africa.
There were seen, side by side,
the greatest painter and the
greatest scholar of the age. The
spectacle had allured Reynolds
from that easel which has pre-
served to us the thoughtful
SKETCHES MADE BY HOGAIITH AT THE TRIAL OP LORD LOVAT.
SIMON FRASER. LORD LOVAT.
JACOBITE CHIEFTAIN
SlyleJ "The I ox of the North his wily .inj intriguing JUposilion. He WJN condemned
Kir^c ol ln..i,.m .in,l K
"Illls (Kirlr.ul «.is sli-lJinl I". :.| |,,s ,rj.il.
Westminster Hall : Memorable Trials
161
foreheads of so many writers and statesmen and the sweet smiles of so many noble matrons.
It had induced Parr to suspend his labours in that dark and profound mine from which
he had extracted a vast treasure of erudition — a treasure too often buried in the earth,
too often paraded with injudicious ostentation, but still precious, massive, and splendid.
There appeared the voluptuous charms of her to whom the heir of the throne had in secret
plighted his faith. There, too, was she, the beautiful mother of a beautiful race, the St. Cecilia,
whose delicate features, lighted up by love and music, art has rescued from the common decay.
There were the members of that brilliant society which quoted, criticised, and exchanged
repartees under the rich peacock hangings of Mrs. Montagu. And there the ladies whose lips,
more persuasive than those of Fox himself, had carried the Westminster election against palace
and treasury shone round Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire."
" The trial," another writer (Townsend) says, " was unprecedented in its historic magnitude ;
in the depth of interest which it excited, in the extent of time and space and detail which it
occupied, in the grandeur of the topics which it involved, and in the greatness, not less moral
THE EXECUTION OF LAUBENCE SHIBLEV, KARL OF FERRERS, AT TYBURN, MAY 5TH, 1700, FOB THE MUBDEK OF
HIS STEWARD, MR. JOHNSON.
From a drawing made on tbe spot at the time.
than adventitious, of the managers of the impeachment. In their box were enclosed Burke,
Fox, Sheridan, Windham, and Grey, supported, should they require support, by the professional
talents of Drs. I^awrence, Mansfield, and Piggott — a band unmatched with mental prowess and
rich with the spoils of the ransacked world of eloquence. When their stupendous chief, who
rose far above the common stature of human intellect, had closed his most emphatic charge —
'I impeach Warren Hastings in the name of our holy religion, which he has disgraced,;..!
impeach him in the name of the F,nglish Constitution, which he has violated and broken ;
1 impeach him in the name of Indian millions whom he has sacrificed to injustice; I impeach
him in the name and by the best rights of human nature, which he has stabbed to the
heart. And I conjure this high and sacred Court not to let these pleadings be heard
in vain ' — the very peers who had to try the charge said ' Hear, hear.' Some of the
most distinguished of the peeresses fainted away at the recital of the horrors which his
fertile imagination had conjured up against the agents of the accused ; and had the coroneted
judges proceeded immediately to their Painted Chamber and voted forthwith, there is little
doubt they would have pronounced a judgment of 'Guilty' almost by acclamation." But
21
162
Parliament Past and Present
fortunately for the prisoner, fortunately for the cause of justice, the trial was so protracted
that the effect of Burke's perfcrvid advocacy was dissijwted in a morass of evidence and
formalities. To revive the drooping interest, the great orator resorted to humour. "The rajah."
he said, "had IMM-II arrested at the hour of his devotions. It was alleged in extenuation of the
disgrace that he was not a Brahmin. Suppose the I/>rd < 'hancellor (Thurlow) should be found
at his devotions — the keejier of the King's conscience. Supjwse he should be taken away.
Would it remove the indignity that he was not a bishop? No! The Chancellor would know
and feel the disgrace, lie would think of the devotions he had lost, and he would not care
whether he were a bishop or no!'' The sally had its effect. -None," siys the re]>orter, "was
grave but the Ix>rd Chancellor himself." But it was a mere flash in the pan. Intere-t. which
was at first at white heat, became more and more attenuated, until the final scene-, were
marked by a display of public weariness and indifference, and even aversion. As for the
criminal — "the C'aptain-(ieneral of Iniquity," as he had been called by his rancorous accusers
— the best opinion more and more inclined to the view that he was a greatly ill-u-i-d
man. When, therefore, on April 23rd, 1795, on the one hundred and forty-ninth day of
the trial, an acquittal was pronounced by twenty-three peers against six. the result was
received with unbounded satisfaction in all but the mo>t partisan quarters. The trial la-ted
seven years; if the reckoning is made from the time
Burke gave his notice of the impeachment to the
day of the acquittal, the proceedings extended over
ten years — a period which, as Seward says, "might
vie for duration with the siege of Troy."
Only on one other occasion was the cumbrous
machinery of impeachment put into motion in the
great Hall of Rufus. This was in the well-known
case of Lord Melville, who on June 21st, 18()(!. was
brought to the Bar, under circumstances to be narrated
in a later chapter, on charges of malversation of
public funds in connection with the administration of
the Navy, of which he was the admini.-trat i\e head.
In the result he was acquitted by a large majority
of his brother peers, and he lived long enough to win
back the entire confidence of Wilberforce and other
friends whose suspicions had in a measure led to the
inquiry.
In a future chapter we shall have something to
say of the coronation festivities of which the Hall
has been the scene from the earliest days of its
existence to the beginning of the present century.
Meanwhile, we take leave of this building with a
vivid sense of the difficulty, inseparable from the
scheme of the work, of compressing into a short
space an adequate survey of the moving events of
its strange, event tul history, and of the conspicuous
part it has played in the life of the nation.
j UK in i in. M-
KIM;>TMX.
Tiled for bigamy in We»tniin»lcr Hull. The lower picture
give* a lc|>rwcotatiuM of Hit; trial.
103
CHAPTER XIII.
THE DESTRUCTION OF THE PALACE BY FIRE.
ON the night of Thursday, October 16th, 1834, visitors travelling by coach to London were
confronted with a magnificent spectacle. The whole of the metro|»>lis was illuminated by a
vast conflagration. Flames leapt high in air, and a dense column of black smoke rolled sullen Iv
away northwards. Eager questions to ostlers at stopping- places as the distant suburbs were
reached soon elicited an explanation of -.the phenomena. The Houses of Parliament were on
fire ! Throughout that night practically all London congregated about Westminster to watch
the remorseless march of the fire as it swept from building to building with incredible rapidity.
Three regiments of Guards hardly sufficed to keep back the excited crowd which surged about
Old Palace Yard. On the
river an immense number of
small craft, filled with spec-
tators, contributed to the
animation of the scene. For
hours the fire continued with-
out any stay to its progress.
In turn the House of Lords,
the Painted Chamber, the
Koyal Gallery, the library
of the House of Commons,
and the residences of the chief
officials were consumed. It
seemed at one time that the
whole of the group of buildings
would be utterly destroyed,
but the massive masonry of
\Vcstminster Hall fortunately
proved a barrier too stout for
the flames to overcome. As
morning began to dawn, with
a feeling of intense relief the
great concourse, which in-
cluded in its ranks peers and
Ministers, meml>ers of Parlia-
ment and high officials, saw
that the worst was over, and
that the matchless building
was not to be involved in the
general ruin. But the Palace
itself was a thing of the
THE 1IUKNINU OK THK HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT, OCTOBEU ItiTH, 1834, AS past. Only a slia]n'lcs> maSS
SEEN FBOM THE BivEB. of gaunt and blackened walls
A production of th.famou.pirtur.b7j. M. w. Tnmer, R.A. remained to indicate the
164
•if
The Destruction of the Palace by Fire
165
features of the ancient home of the Norman
and Plantagenet Kings.
The story of the origin of the fire is
not so familiar that it may not be retold
with interest. At the time the event oc-
curred there were strong suspicions that it
was the result of political incendiarism.
Colour was lent to this theory by an extra-
ordinary statement made by a Mr. Cooper, a
member of a firm of ironfounders carrying
on business in Drury Lane. This individual
averred that at eight o'clock on Thursday,
October 16th, 1834, he went into the commer-
cial room of the Bush Inn at Dudley, and
whilst he was drinking some tea one of the
travellers there went out, and returning in
about two minutes, observed : " I have just
heard that the House of Lords is burnt down,
occasioned by some carpenters being careless
with the shavings." Upon this one of the
other travellers asked : " Is it in the paper ? "
The reply was : '• No, it cannot have got into
the paper." " How did you hear it ? " was
the nert question. To this response was
made by the traveller who brought the in-
telligence that his informant was a person
on the coach. This was the story, and a
remarkable story it was, for it implied that
in days when the electric telegraph was
unknown as a means of communication, and
the quickest method of conveying intelli-
gence was by stage coach, the news of the
fire at Westminster, which did not break out until seven o'clock, was known at Dudley,
119 miles ofl', three hours later. If Mr. Cooper's statements were true, there was clearly
only one explanation of the conflagration — that it was the outcome of a plot. But a
subsequent searching investigation proved conclusively that they could not be true. Not
only was there evidence of a negative character to controvert the statement that an
announcement of the outbreak was made in the commercial room of the Bush Inn at
Dudley on the night of the fire, but Mr. Cooper contradicted himself to such an extent under
examination before the Committee of Lords of the Council which investigated the causes of the
fire, as to completely discount the value of anything he said. Whether he was suffering under
some extraordinary hallucination, or whether he had simply trumped up a fictitious and
sensational narrative of the origin of the fire for purposes of notoriety, it is impossible to say ;
but the Lords of the Council had no hesitation in disbelieving his story, and their attitude
was the only possible one in the circumstances. Other evidence given at the inquiry showed
convincingly that the fire was due to accidental and easily explainable causes.
The factor in producing the conflagration was a very simple one. It was nothing more
than an overheated flue, brought about by careless burning, in a furnace under the Peers'
chamber, of an accumulation of " tallies " and " foils," left by the old Court of Exchequer when
it was abolished in 1826. The tally and the foil, it should be explained, were pieces of stick
of unequal lengths used for the purpose of recording the sums paid into the Exchequer. As
they had been in store for some time, they were dry and highly inflammable. Usually they
ST. STEPHEN'S CHAPEL, LOOKING EAST, AFTEK THE FIRE,
Showing the ancient walls of the Chapel.
166
Parliament Past and Present
THE HOUSE OF LORDS A>'D THE HOUSE OK COMMONS, AS THEY WKKE HKFUltl: Till: K:
OCTOBER 16TH, 1834.
had been disposed of either by making an auto da ft in Palace Yard or Tot hill Fields, or by
the simpler expedient of using them for firewood as occasion offered in the Government offices.
But in an evil moment, in order to completely clear the old tally room for use for other
purposes, an order was given for a wholesale burning, without any specific instructions as to the
place where the o}>eration was to be performed. Mr. Weobley, the clerk of the works, unhappily
conceived the idea of utilising the stoves in the House of Lords for the purpose. With careful
firing, i>erhaps there would have been no great danger, but the work was practically left to two
workmen, who, animated by a not unnatural desire to get through their task quickly, piled the
wood upon the fire with a rapidity which soon produced ominous results. Some visitors looking
over the House about four o'clock noticed that the floor beneath Black Rod's box was quite
warm to the feet, and remarked on the danger that there seemed to be from fire. Mrs. Wright,
the housekeeper, however, made some reassuring remarks as to the safety conferred on the
building by the fact of the floor being of stone. The visitors were not convinced. One of
them spoke of the suffocating heat, and another commented regretfully on the circumstance
that there was so much smoke that he could not see the tajiestries on the walls, and found it
imjK>ssible to discern the throne from the Bar. The official optimism, however, was proof
against all evidence of danger. Beyond conveying several warn ings to the men tending the fire,
neither Mrs. Wright nor any other responsible official did anything until a little after six
o'clock. Then there was the clearest proof that the House was indeed on fire. One of the
female servants who went out on an errand about that time returned screaming, "Oh, good
God, the House of Lords is on fire!" Thinking that it might be only the matting that was
alight, Mrs. Wright took the keys and opened the door of the chamber, but she was soon
Convinced that a much greater disaster than that was in progress. Flames were leaping up
from Black Rod's Iwx, and the interior was filled with dust and smoke. The alarm was
hurriedly given, and the fire engines — puny affairs, mere squirts compared with the powerful
The Destruction of the Palace by Fire
167
• I ff
appliances of to-day — were sent for. But the flames had got too great a mastery to be denied.
So rapid was the spread of the conflagration that it was with the greatest difficulty that the
most valuable of the records were removed from the offices in the Peers' buildings to
St. Margaret's Church across the way for safe custody. In this connection Sir John E.
Dorington, Bart., the present member for the Tewkesbury division of Gloucestershire, whose
father was Chief Engrossing Clerk and Clerk of the Fees of the House of Commons, tells an
interesting story. He states that on the night of the fire his father was dining at the
Athenaeum Club, and hearing the cry of " Fire ! " went out. Discovering, on inquiry, that the
outbreak was at the House of Lords, he rushed off to his office to save his papers. He
managed to get in without any great difficulty, but he had barely time to open the drawers
where the documents were left when an attendant burst into the room and said he was in
danger of being caught. A look around convinced Mr. Dorington of the accuracy of that
statement. All the passciges were filled with smoke, and the threatening roar of the flames
came every moment nearer and nearer. Deeming discretion the better part of valour, the
zealous official beat a hasty retreat, leaving not only his papers, but his keys behind him. As
it was, he only just managed to escape with his life.
Another interesting reminiscence is supplied by Dean Stanley in his well-known work on
Westminster Abbey. Writing of the associations of the Chapter House, and of its uses as
a Record Chamber, he says : "On the night of the fire which consumed the Houses of Parliament
in 1834, when thousands were gathered below watching the flames, when the waning affection
for our ancient national monuments seemed to be revived in that crisis of their fate — where, as
the conflagration was driven by the wind towards Westminster Hall, the innumerable faces of
that vast multitude, lighted up in the broad glare with more than the light of day, were visibly
swayed by the agitations of the devouring breeze, and one voice, one prayer seemed to go up
from every upturned countenance, ' Oh ! save the Hall ' : on that night two small figures might
have been seen standing on the roof of the Chapter House overlooking the terrific blaze, parted
from them only by the narrow space of Old Palace Yard. One was the Keeper of the Eecords,
i68
Parliament Past and Present
Sir F. Palgrave, the other was Dean Ireland. They had climbed up through the hole in the
roof to witness the awful some. Suddenly a gust of wind swept the flames in that direction.
Palgrave, with all the enthusiasm of the antiquarian and of his own eager temiienuiient, turned
to the Dean and suggested that they should descend to the Chapter House and carry off its
most valuable treasures into the Abbey for safety. Dean Ireland, with the caution belonging
at once to his office and his diameter, answered that he could not think of doing so without
applying to Lord Melbourne, the First Lord of the Treasury." As it proved, then- was no real need
to take the step proposed by the Keeper of the Kecords. The Chapter House was happily left
unscathed, with all its priceless muniments. But great destruction was nevertheless wrought
with valuable records preserved in the Parliamentary buildings.
As has already been stated, the fire left of the old Palace of Westminster little beyond
Westminster Hall and a few gutted buildings. It was at first hoped that it might be possible
TUB CLOISTEE COUKT, ST. STEPHEN'S ( ll.U'KI,, AFTEE TUB FIRE.
'this part of the ruins was preserved anil restored.
to restore St. Stephen's Chapel and some other portions of the original structure, but careful
expert examination showed the impossibility of this, excepting at an enormous cost, which would
not be justifiable in the circumstances. Generally it was felt that though sentiment might have
been permitted to stand in the way of the demolition of the block of buildings embraced in the
ancient limits of the Palace, it was absurd to allow it to be the means of creating a patchwork
arrangement only, as the restored building must inevitably be. The time for makeshifts had
passed. Not only the dignity of Parliament, but its convenience, demanded that the two
assemblies should be accommodated in a home more imjwsing in size and architectural pre-
tensions than the one which had hitherto done duty as such. This view, popularly held, was,
after close investigation and long consideration, sup|>orted by a decision of a Select Committee
which was apjjointed to consider the matter. This body presented a report in June, 1835,
embodying its views in a series of resolutions. These recommended the holding of a competition
for the rebuilding of the Houses of Parliament, and that the design of the new structure should be
The Destruction of the Palace by Fire
169
DEAN IRELAND,
Who witnessed the destruction of the Houses of
Parliament by fire from the roof of the Chapter
House.
either Gothic or Elizabethan ; and that the King should be
requested to appoint five Commissioners, who should examine
the plans offered by competition, and select from their
number " not less than three nor more than five, as shall
seem to them most worthy of attention." Four premiums of
£500 each were promised, and it was understood that the
architect receiving the first premium should be employed to
undertake the work unless some grave cause to the contrary
were discovered, in which case he was to receive a premium
of £1,000.
The conclusions of the Committee were accepted by the
Government, and a competition instituted, with the result that
ninety-seven architects entered the lists. On November 1st,
1835, the designs were sent in ; on February 29th, 1836,
the award was published. The successful competitor was
Mr. Charles Barry, an architect who had already attained
some eminence in his profession as the designer of the
Travellers' Club, the Reform Club, and Bridgewater House,
and the remodeller of Highclere House. The report of the
Commissioners, in which the decision was set forth, stated that
they had confined themselves "to the consideration of the
beauty and grandeur of the general design, to its practicability, to the skill shown in the various
arrangements of the building, and the accommodation afforded " ; and that on these grounds
they assigned the palm to Mr. Barry. But while accepting his designs, and expressing confidence
in the author's skill in Gothic architecture, they strongly recommended that " as the beauty
of this depends ujwn the attention to detail, for which the architect has no rule to guide him,"
his drawings should be submitted from time to time " to competent judges of their effect, lest
from over-confidence, negligence, or inattention in the execution of the work, we fail to obtain
that result to which our just expectations have been raised."
This proposal to apjwint a controlling Commission was accepted by Mr. Barry without demur,
much to the disgust of some of his professional col-
leagues, who held that he should have declined
to submit to so unusual a demand. Later on Mr.
Barry himself probably would have cordially sub-
scribed to this view. But in the flush of victory he
doubtless was not disposed to scrutinise too carefully
the conditions under which it had been won. He
u-a« more concerned with the criticisms of his plans,
ich closely touched not only his capacity, but even
fairness of the award. His design was objected
is over-ornamented and meretricious, and comment
i made on the dangerously artistic character of the
wings as tending to mislead the judges, who were
itemptuously denounced as " mere amateurs." These
.ndiced attacks were followed by overt action on the
t of disappointed competitors. At a meeting held
er the exhibition of the competitive designs in
'stminster Hall, it was decided to petition Parlia-
ment to set aside the award on the ground that in
the accepted design considerations of expense and the
conditions of the competition were disregarded. Mr.
Hume undertook to present the petition, and he did
22
'I'll;!- l'.>ll|irri-is< Iv
;>i' of £R Stephens ' '.\>.<\»-\
Hi'.
l I'-.s ' '>in|il<-l'''l
I- II" I I <|V
s< I .>|i:>|t<llirmi|U"' !'' "I1'
DTE. — The description of the picture on page
197 should read "The Coronation of
Queen Victoria in Westminster Abbey."
TABLET IX ST. STEPHEN'S HALL,
Placed to indicate to the viiitor the exact position of the old
St. Stephen'! Chapel.
Parliament Past and Present
i68
Sir F. Pal grave, the other wn* l)c:m Ireland. They had climbed up through the hole in the
roof to witness the awful scene. Suddenly a gust of wind swept the Humes in that direction.
Palgrave, with all the eiitlm-in-ni of the antiquarian and of his own eager teni|>erameiit, turned
to the Dean and suggested that they should descend to the Chapter House and carry off its
most valuable treasures into the Ablx-y for safety. Dean Ireland, with the caution belonging
at once to his office and his character, answered that he could not think of doing so without
applying to Lord Melbourne, the First Lord of the Treasury." As it proved, there was no real need
to take the step proposed by the Keei>er of the. Records. The Chapter House was happily left
unscathed, with all its priceless muniments. But great destruction was nevertheless wrought
with valuable records preserved in the Parliamentary buildings.
As has already been stated, the fire left of the old Palace of Westminster little beyond
Westminster Hall and a few gutted buildings. It was at first hoped that it might be possible
TUB CLOISTEB COURT, ST. STEPHEN'S CHAPEL, AFTER THE FIEE.
'this jiart of the ruins wof
to restore St. Stephen's Chapel and some other
expert examination showed the imjiossibility of tl
not l>e justifiable in the circumstances. Generally
been permitted to stand in the way of the demol
ancient limits of the Palace, it was absurd to allc
arrangement only, as the restored building must
passed. Not only the dignity of Parliament,
assemblies should be accommodated in a home
tensions than the one which had hitherto done
after close investigation and long consideration, supj>orted by a decision of a Select Committee
which was appointed to consider the matter. This body pre... -nted a report in June, 1835,
embodying its views in a series of resolutions. These recommended the holding of a competition
for the rebuilding of the Houses of Parliament, and that the design of the new structure should be
The Destruction of the Palace by Fire
169
DEAN IRELAND,
either Gothic or Elizabethan ; and that the King should be
requested to appoint five Commissioners, who should examine
the plans offered by competition, and select from their
number " not less than three nor more than five, as shall
seem to them most worthy of attention." Four premiums of
£500 each were promised, and it was understood that the
architect receiving the first premium should be employed to
undertake the work unless some grave cause to the contrary
were discovered, in which case he was to receive a premium
of £1,000.
The conclusions of the Committee were accepted by the
Government, and a competition instituted, with the result that
ninety-seven architects entered the lists. On November 1st,
1835, the designs were sent in; on February 29th, 1836,
the award was published. The successful competitor was
Mr. Charles Barry, an architect who had already attained
some eminence in his profession as the designer of the
Travellers' Club, the Reform Club, and Bridgevvater House,
and the remodeller of Highclere House. The report of the J^J^
Commissioners, in which the decision was set forth, stated that House.
they had confined themselves "to the consideration of the
beauty and grandeur of the general design, to its practicability, to the skill shown in the various
arrangements of the building, and the accommodation afforded " ; and that on these grounds
they assigned the palm to Mr. Barry. But while accepting his designs, and expressing confidence
in the author's skill in Gothic architecture, they strongly recommended that " as the beauty
of this depends upon the attention to detail, for which the architect has no rule to guide him,"
his drawings should be submitted from time to time "to competent judges of their effect, lest
from over-confidence, negligence, or inattention in the execution of the work, we fail to obtain
that result to which our just expectations have been raised."
This proposal to appoint a controlling Commission was accepted by Mr. Barry without demur,
much to the disgust of some of his professional col-
*'* '"•"' jv leagues, who held that he should have declined
K'lli.i. • i-. K . on, ,|H,(.| to submit to so unusual a demand. Later on Mr.
Barry himself probably would have cordially sub-
scribed to this view. But in the flush of victory he
doubtless was not disposed to scrutinise too carefully
the conditions under which it had been won. He
was more concerned with the criticisms of his plans,
which closely touched not only his capacity, but even
the fairness of the award. His design was objected
to as over-ornamented and meretricious, and comment
was made on the dangerously artistic character of the
drawings as tending to mislead the judges, who were
contemptuously denounced as " mere amateurs." These
jaundiced attacks were followed by overt action on the
part of disappointed competitors. At a meeting held
after the exhibition of the competitive designs in
Westminster Hall, it was decided to petition Parlia-
ment to set aside the award on the ground that in
the accepted design considerations of expense and the
conditions of the competition were disregarded. Mr.
Hume undertook to present the petition, and he did
22
"Ui'.'l |p|;'i">|'S'..Sii i>
i I' ll'.i) ' l|u,'l l\ ]-.: ' •
vjsc
W.-is si 1 ;i|>;»N illllilM! lhi'iv|i|i>
K"ii-' •! < "imnH'iwJiiwlttybsKtov on which
jll >il>. I) if'SC Willis U71S ll«'25*
I" i :iiii>st«Tol'which
l luill .-
1 < JA pi nidi its
>n s< rv<-<|
••• > ''liutlu'lli
!.'it>|i-t show I)*' (.
nr and the four marks Q
ftotise of GJomoooa
TABLET IN ST. STEPHEN'S HALL,
Placed to indicate to the visitor the eiact position of the old
St. Stephen's Chapel.
Parliament Past and Present
so on Juno 22n«l. 1836, following up his action by a formal attack a month later. Bnt the
Government would not hear of any change in the arrangements. Sir Kol>crt IVel Diluted nut
that to a«l«|it the prayer of the petition would Vie to destroy tin- whole ]irinci|ilc of competition
and endanger the public faith. He added an expression of coni]iassion for Mr. Ham. a- a man
"hunted and pursued" liecause he was successful. In this strong attitude the Ministry was
sustained bv the issuing of a protest bv twelve competitor! against "the indecorous and unpro-
fessional attempts" to upset the Commission's decision, mi the ground that such proceeding*
tended to disunion in the architectural profession. This timely expression of opinion had its
effect. Attacks became less and less frequent, until they died away in a few anonymous
mutterings to which not the least attention was given.
At last the way was cleared for the commencement of the work. With high iiope>
Mr. Harry entered upon his task. Popular interest in and approval of his design compensited
him for professional injustice, while there was much in the magnitude of the building he
was employed upon to inspire him with a feeling of elation. He did not then see tin-
difficulties and harassing disputes which were to cast a dark shadow over his life. Had he
done so, possibly he might have paused before he accepted the res|xmsibility, honourable and
full of distinction though it was.
A grant of money made by the House of Commons, on July 3rd, 1837, was the tir>t
step taken towards the erection of the new building. It was followed almost immediately
by the commencement of operations. The initial move was the construction of the river
wall. This was a work of great costliness, and no slight engineering difficulty. UA cutler
dam was constructed, and the foundations of the wall laid uj>on concrete, which in s<.:ne
places is as much as twelve feet in thickness. At the very outset of the work unforeseen
difficulties were encountered, and unforeseen
expenses incurred. The soil of the bed of
the river was found to be very treacherous, in
many places little better than a quicksand, and
unfortunately the same character attached to
the ground under a large portion of the
building. Great care, however, was taken
with the foundations, and they were made
thoroughly satisfactory. Still, as an additional
precaution, Mr. Barry resolved not to draw
the piles of the coffer dam. as had been at
first intended, but to cut them off level with
the dredged bed of the river, in order that
the lower part of the dam might remain a*
a kind of fender or outwork to the wall,
protecting it against, the scour of the river,
which has in other places proved so dangerous
to the stability of buildings."1
This important preliminary ojM'ration.
completed in 1830, was quickly followed by
the prosecution of the work U]K>II the struc-
ture. On April 27th. 1840, with little or no
ceremony, and only passing public notice, the
first stone of the vast pile was laid hv the
frm a portrait in (Ac Xaliomt Porlra.t (Jalltry. wi((' °f ' Ml' architect. For HlOre than twel\e
SIB CHARLES BAEBY, .Vt'llrs tlie ""ilding operations continued. year*
The gn*t .rehitect, who dwigiml the HOIUM of ParlUmcnt »nd raperin- tO *'le Architect of strife and bitterness and
tended their erection. keen disappoint Iliellt . It IS not Within the
1 "The Life and Works of Sir C. Barn-."
The Destruction of the Palace by Fire
171
-
^1 _-_ &
'i-oin a frtfit pMuhtd May 21rt, 1830.
THE NEW HOUSES OP PARLIAMENT
The design by Sir Charles Barry which was accepted, bnt carried out in a greatly modified form.
province of this work to go minutely into the half-forgotten controversies which raged around
the building of the new Houses of Parliament. They created much excitement at the time,
but to-day they have little other than a purely historical interest. It may be said, however,
that Sir Charles Barry almost from the outset found himself in a position of discomfort. First,
the Government appointed Dr. Reid to superintend the ventilating and warming of the building,
and so introduced an element of discord which left its mark upon the progress of the building.
Then in 1844 there was serious trouble because, to meet official demands for fresh accommoda-
tion, the architect had without authority varied his plans in several minor particulars. Following
this, and as a consequence of the action taken in regard to it, a Commission was on March 17th,
1848, appointed "to superintend the completion of the new Palace," and the way was paved
for an almost unending succession of disputes upon points connected with the internal arrange-
ments. Again, there was a tremendous controversy, with numerous ramifications, over the
designing of the great clock. Lastly, an undignified squabble which went on for years, out-
lasting, in fact, the life of the architect, took place as to the remuneration which should be
paid to Mr. Barry, the authorities insisting on the payment of a lump sum, while the architect
stood out for the observance of the professional custom of a percentage on the outlay. These
various wrangles naturally materially tended to protract the work of construction. It was as
late as February, 1847, that the first completed portion of the new buildings, the House of
Lords, was occupied, and some considerable further time elapsed before the House of Commons
entered into possession of its new home. Not until 1852, when the Royal Approach was
completed and Queen Victoria made for the first time her public entrance to the new buildings,
may the great work be said to have been consummated. Even then the tow-ers and other
architectural features remained to be constructed. These engaged attention until the year
1860. Thus, it was twenty years after the first stone was laid, and when the architect
had been borne to his last resting-place in Westminster Abbey, a saddened and broken-hearted
man, that the final touches were put upon the splendid design.
The cost of the building was enormous, far in excess of the most liberal calculations.
172
Parliament Past and Present
In the original estimate the amount required was put down at £707,104. It was hopelessly
short of the mark. A Parliamentary jiaper issued in 1850 showed that the amount expended
or to be expended up to that time reached the enormous total of £1,997,246 15«. lid. Kven
this sum does not adequately represent all that the building actually cost. At least another
half- million would have to be added to obtain the proper total. This great excess on the
original estimate was made a subject of severe censure of the architect during his lift-time.
Front Dr. Barry'i " Lift of Sir Charltt Barry," by ptrmiuioa oj Mr. Juhi' .V.<, v.i«.
THE SEW PALACE AT WESTMINSTER.
View from the wutli-eut of Sir Charles Barry'* piopmed additional building* on the rite of New Palace Yard. These addition* were frequently
<ll*cu*tetl, but never adopted.
It was, in fact, the most serious count in the indictment brought against him by his critics.
His son, however, ably, and on the whole successfully, defends him ' from the charge of
extravagance. The building, he shows, as completed, widely differed from the structure that
Sir Charles Barry had designed. Not only had considerable additions been made to it to
meet official exigencies, but a sum of half a million had been expended on furniture, fittings,
and decorations which had not been provided for in the first estimate. The simple truth
of the matter no doubt is that the great pile was to a large extent a product of development .
It grew with the progress of the time and with the march of opinion as to what was n-.-illy
essential to the equipment of the home of the Imperial Legislature. In subsequent chapters
we shall describe in detail the new buildings as completed.
1 "The Life and Works of Sir C. IJarry."
CHAPTER XIV.
CORONATION CEREMONIES AT THE PALACE.
BEFORE taking leave of the old Palace of Westminster it is desirable, especially in view of the
circumstances of the time at which this work is issued, that some description should be given
of the pageantry of which it was the witness in connection with coronations. In recent years,
with the fixing of the personal residence of the Sovereign mainly outside London, this aspect
of the historic site by the Thames has been rather obscured. But in real it v, if the great
building had never been associated with the life of Parliament or the administration of the
law. it would always have been famous as the spot on which had been celebrated a remarkable
series of spectacles connected with the accession of the P)nglish Kings. With the exception of
the late Sovereign of happy memory and her immediate predecessor, there was scarcely an
occupant of the English throne from the time of Henry III. who had not mounted to it by
way of Westminster Hall. Even before that period the Palace was in a peculiar sense
identified with the ceremonies in connection with the beginning of a new reign. Indeed, it
may safely be asserted that so long as there has been a Palace at Westminster so long has
there existed a close associ(ition between the building and the rites which have been the
outward and visible sign of the monarch's title to power.
William the Conqueror, with that practical, business-like instinct which was a marked
trait of his character, quickly realised the value of a Westminster coronation ; and as soon as
he had made his footing in the country sure, he
caused elaborate preparations to be undertaken for a
ceremony in the Abbey with the old impressive
ritual, and an added element of distinction lent by
the splendour of Norman pageantry. An untoward
incident during the ceremony went nearly to involv-
ing the affair in disaster. At the culminating point
in the service, where the question was asked, " Will
ye have this Prince to be your King ? " a great shout
of approval was sent up by the congregation, and
the Norman soldiery outside, hearing it, believed that
the English had revolted. Acting on this assump-
tion, they started to fire and plunder the houses.
The tumult was only quelled after it had continued
many hours and much mischief had been done. Mean-
while William, trembling with apprehension, had gone
through the service to its close, and we may be certain
that there was little festivity or rejoicing in the
Palace that night.
\Yilliam Kufus, like his father, was crowned at
Westminster, but the meagre accounts of the cere-
mony do not indicate to what extent the Palace
shared in the proceedings. Profiting by the existence
of Westminster Hall, his successor, after his crowning
in the Abbey, received " all the chief men of England,
173
THE COBONATION CHAIR,
On which all the Kings of England from M'illiam the
Conqueror have been crowned.
174
Parliament Past and Present
both clergy and laity," in the Palace. Similarly Stephen, who was crowned on St. St, -|,!i, -n's
Day, 1135. in honour of the occasion held a splendid festival in tin- I'alacc. to which
alf his leading subjects were invited. These jm-r.Ml.-nts \v,-r.- f..ll..\v.-d in successive ivi.-jns.
When Henry III. was crowned King in the lifetime of his father in 1170, we Bather
from the record* that a grand banquet was given in Westminster Hall. I'IK.II this OCCMM.M,
the father served his son at the table as sewer, "bringing up the I* .res head with trumpets
before it according to the manor. Wh.ereuj.on," j.roeeeds the quaint chronicle of Holinshed,
"the young man, conceiving a jiride in his heart, teheld the Btandere-by with a m»n-
stately countenance than he had wont; the Archbishop of Yorke, who sat by him, marking
his behaviour, turned unto him and said, 'Be glad, my good sonne, there is not another
Prince in the world that hath such a sewer at his table.' To which the new.- King answered
disdainfnllie thus: 'Why doest thou marvel at that? -My father in doing it, thinketh it not
more than becometh him; he being borne of princelie blood onlie on the mother's side,
serveth me that am a King borne, having Ixith a King to my father and a Queen
my mother.' Thus the young man, of an evill and j*?rverse nature, was jmffed up in pride
by his father's unseemlie doinge." It is difficult to say whether this story is more than the
fttatl tht Baytujc Taputry.
THE CROWS OFFERED TO HAROLD BY THE PEOPLE.
THE CORONATION OF HAROLD AT WESTMINSTER.
gossip of the old Fathers, but it is certainly perfectly consistent with the mean-spirited
character of the Prince of whom it is related. More tangible than the narrative of this abortive
coronation are the records of the festivities which accomjmnied the elevation of Kit-hard I.
to the throne. These were conducted with all the pomj) and display of the age, and were
participated in by the leading men of the country. In the writings of eye-witnesses we have
for the first time mention of the association of the chief citizen of London with the ceremony
in the caj>acity of Chief Butler, and of the ajijxnntment of the chief burgesses of Winehe-ier
to serve up the viands. But records of the earlier coronation feasts in Westminster Hall are
meagre, and it is not until we come to the coronation of Henry III.'s Queen, Eleanor, in 1236,
that we have any detailed descrijrtion. Of this pageant .Matthew Paris, however, supj>lies a
vivid picture. " At the nuj.tial feast," he says, " were assembled such a multitude of the
nobility of both sexes, such numbers of the religious, such a vast body of the people, and
such a variety of players (histrionee) that the City of London could scarcely contain them
in her capacious bosom. In the procession the Earl of Cluster U>re before the King the sword
of St. Edward the Confessor, called curtnna, in token of his being Earl of the Palace, comes
pnlatii, and having authority to restrain the King if he should do wrong ; as Constable of
Chester he kejit back the jieojile with his rod when they pressed too forward. The llitjli
Marshal of England (the Earl of Pembroke) carried a rod before the King, both in the
the picture by John Opie, R.A.
THE CORONATION OF HENRY VI.
This King was crowned both in London and in Paris. He wa» in the ninth year of his age at the time of the solemnity in Westminster Abbey.
175
Parliament Past and Present
Church and in the Hall, making way
for the King, and arranging the guests
at the h'nyal tul ill-. The barons, custodes
of the Cinque I'orts, bare a canopy over
the King supported on five spears, though
from some contentious i-cruples they had
almost neglected their duty. The Earl
of I/'icester held water for the King to
\\a>h hel'nre dinner. The Karl of Warenne
officiated as the Royal cup-bearer, in
lien of the Karl of Arundel, who was a
youth not yet, knighted. Ma-tcr Michael
Helet had the office of butler. The Earl
of Hereford was marshal of the King's
household. William de Beauchamp was
almoner. The justiciary of the forests
removed the doles from the King's table,
though he was at iir.-t impeded. The
citizens of London poured the wine
abundantly into precious cups; the citi-
/ens of Winchester had oversight of the
kitchen and napery, and others officiated
according to their various claims, which
were decided stdvo jure, so that they
might be substantiated on a fitter
occasion, and the joy of the nuptial
feast not be interrupted by contention.
The chancellor, the chamberlain, the
marshal, and the constable, took their
seats with reference to their offices, and
all the barons in the order of their
creation. The solemnity," the writer
goes on to say, " was resplendent with
the clergy and knights, properly placed.
But how shall I describe the dainties of
the table, and the abundance of divers
liquors, the quantity of game, the variety
of fish, the multitude of jesters, and
the attention of the waiters? Whatever
the world pours forth of pleasure and glory was there especially displayed."
The splendour of this feast was surpassed by that arranged in 1274 in honour of the
coronation of Edward I. To furnish the material needs of the occasion the country was
ransacked for supplies weeks previously. Eventually there were forthcoming 440 oxen and cows,
430 sheep, 450 pigs, 16 fat boars, 278 flitches of bacon, and 22,460 capons, besides other poultry.
The feast was attended by the King of Scotland, accompanied by one hundred knights on
horselcick. "who as soon as they had demounted turned their steeds- loose for any one to
catch and keep that thought proper." Following the Scotch King came Edmund, Earl of
Arundel, and the Earls of Gloucester, Pembroke, and Warenne, -each having in their company
a hundred illustrious knights, wearing their lords' armour; and when they had alighted from
their palfreys they also set them free, that whoever chose might take them unquestioned."
Meanwhile, the aqueduct in Chepe "poured forth white and red wine like rain-water, for
those who would, to drink at pleasure." This custom of supplying wine for the populace
/Vm tht portrait in the Jeriaalem Chambtr.
BICHAKD II. IN HIS COEONATION ROBES.
177
23
178
Parliament Past and Present
at coronations mu-t have involved great e.\|H-nse. A document exists which shows that in
the next reign a thousand pipes of wine were ordered from Bordeaux for the coronation.
Nor were the creature comforts the only heavy charge. One of the bills preserved amongst
the records gives in minute detail the articles required for the fitting up of We.-tmin-ter
Hall and the Abbey for Edward III.'s coronation. The total cost was £1,056 19«. 3d., an
enormous sum for those days. Hut, indeed, the whole arrangement,, were conceived on a -cale
of profuse magnificence — so much so, that it took years to discharge the liabilities incurred.
A coronation marked by special magnificence was that of liiclmrd II. On the day before
the actual ceremony the King rode from the Tower to We-t minster accompanied by a brilliant
cavalcade of noblemen and citizens. Arrived at Westminster, he, according to the record in
the Close Rolls, "entered the Great Hall of the Palace, and going up to the high marble
table which stood in it, asked for wine, which being brought he drank of it, as did others
standing around him. The King then retired with the princes and his family to his chamber.
where he supped royally,
and having bathed be-
comingly he retired to n-t .
"In the morning the
King arose, and having
heard mass, he was clothed
in the purest vestments,
and wore slippers or bus-
kins only on his feet; he
quitted his room and de-
scended into the (treat
Hall with a full attendance
of princes and nobles.
There came to meet him
the Archbishop of Canter-
bury (Simon Sudbury) and
other prelates in jxmtitical
habits, and the clergy of
the realm in silken cope-.
with a great concourse of
THE CORONATION OP HENRY iv. people at the high table
in the Hall." Then-alter
a procession was formed and the King proceeded along a covered way to the Abbey, where
the usual rites were performed. Returning to the Palace, the King "descended into tin-
Great Hall, and having washed his hands, sat down in the Royal seat at the high table.
where sat with him many on either hand. On the right side of the Hall the Barons of the
Cinque Ports occupied the first table, the Clerks of the Chancery the second; and at the
inferior tables on that side were the King's Judges, the Barons of the Exchequer, and other-.
On the left side of the Hall were tables for the Sheriffs, Recorder, Aldermen, and many of
the citizens of London. In the middle were tables filled by distinguished men of the
Commons of the Kingdom. . . . During the continuance of the entertainment the Lord
Steward, the Constable, and the Karl .Marshal, with certain knights deputed by them, rode
about the Hall on noble coursers to preserve peace and order among the people. All the time
the Earl of Derby stood at the King's right hand, holding the principal sword, drawn from its
scabbard. The Earl of Stratford performed the office of chief carver. Dinner being finished,
the King arose and went to his chamber with the prelates, great men, and nobles before
mentioned. Then the great men, knights, and lords passed the remainder of the day until
supper time in shews, dances, and solemn minstrelsy ; and having supped, the King and
others retired to rest, fatigued with their exertions in this magnificent festival."
179
i8o
Parliament Past and Present
It is at tins coronation
that we first catch a glim]»«-
of the King's Champion, a
familiar figure in later
ceremonies. This func-
tionary was a creation of
the spirit of chivalry which
permeated all the institu-
tions of the country, regal
and national, at this period.
His duty was to attend the
coronation festivity to chal-
lenge to mortal combat all
who should dare to quest inn
the Royal right to tin-
crown. The manner of his
coining was strictly laid
down in the regulations for
the pageant. In the ca-<
of Richard's II.'s coronation.
according to \Valsin<jhani,
the holder of the office. Sir
John Dymmok, " made a
mistake of the juncture at
which he should come in.
Equipping himself with the
best suit of armour, save
one, and the best steed,
save one, from the King's
armoury and stable, he pro-
ceeded on horseback, with
two attendants (the one
bearing his spear, and tin-
other his shield), to the
Abbey gates, there to wait
the ending of the mass.
But the Lord Marshal, the
Lord Seneschal, and the Lord
Constable, with Sir Thoina-
Percy, being all mounted
on their great horses, went to the knight and told him that he should not have come so soon,
but when the King was at dinner; wherefore he had better retire, and, laying aside his
weighty armour, rest himself until the proper time." It is surmised by some commentators
that the Champion in proceeding to the Abbey in this instance was seeking to uphold an
ancient right to ride in the procession as well as to appear in the Hall. Be that as it may,
it is certain that on all subsequent occasions the Champion's appearance was confined to
Westminster Hall, where, however, it was an essential feature of the festivity. Mounted on
a snow-white steed, and accompanied by a brilliant retinue of esquires, heralds, and mace-bearers.
it was his custom to ride in at the great door, and advancing to the top end of the Hall,
to call upon his herald to deliver the challenge. This was done in the following terms : —
" If any person, of what degree soever, high or low, shall gainsay our Sovereign Lord
King , King of England and France, Defender of the Faith, etc., to be right heir to the
After Sir Anthony Van Dytk.
CHARLES I. IN HIS CORONATION ROBES.
One of many portrait* extant of the King.
Coronation Ceremonies at the Palace
181
imperial crown of this realm, or that he ought not to enjoy the same ; here is his Champion,
who saith that he lyeth, and is a false traytor, being ready in person to combat with him ;
and in this quarrel will adventure his life against him, on what day soever he shall be
appointed."
The words uttered, amid a nourish of trumpets the Champion threw down the gauntlet
three times. On the third occasion it was customary for the King to drink to the Champion
in a gold cup and then to pass it on to the knight, who in turn drank to the King. The
gold cup became a perquisite of the Champion, together with the suit of armour he wore and
the horse he rode at the ceremony.
It is difficult to say who first discharged the office, or even when the custom was instituted.
There is good ground for the belief, however, that in the reign of Henry I. a certain Roger
Marmion, who died in 1129, was King's Champion. This individual exercised the functions by
virtue of his tenure of the manors of Tamworth and Scrivelsby. Through him the post
descended to Philip Marmion, who is believed to have acted as Champion at Edward I.'s
coronation. Philip Marmion's death without male issue, and the consequent diversion of the
manor into the female line, led to a prolonged dispute between the De Frevilles and the
Dyrnmoks, both descendants of Jane, Marmion's eldest daughter. Eventually the Dymmoks,
to use an appropriate metaphor, became firmly seated in the saddle, and successive members of
the family performed the duties until the accession of George IV., when for the last time the
Champion, in the person of Henry Dymoke, representing the Rev. John Dymoke, Rector of
Scrivelsby, the head of the family, rode into Westminster Hall to proclaim his contempt for
the King's enemies. Economical reasons, mainly, led to the abandonment' of the ceremony
(with the banquet) at the two subsequent coronations ; and it is never likely to be revived, for,
picturesque as the incident was, it would in its modern framing lose the suggestiveness and
romance which lent to it in the old days its chief attractiveness.
The King's Champion has rather taken us from the course of our narrative, and it is
necessary to revert to the reign of Richard II., to recall an incident of high historic interest
and importance in connection with the subject we are treating. This was the accession of
Henry IV., after the formal act of abdication performed by Richard while a prisoner in the
THE CORONATION OF CHARLES II. IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY.
It a noted u remarkable by the annalist* that though it rained incessantly many days before and many after the ceremony, " the sunne
sinned gloriously all that day," and not a drop of niu fell.
182
Parliament Past and Present
THE CHAMPION PERFORMING THE CEBEMOXY OP THE CHALLENGE IS WKST-
M1NSTEK HALL AT THE COBOJJATIOX OF JAMKS II.
Tower. Very solemn and im-
pressive were the jinx diiiL,r>
in Parliament which JKI^-<'>I
in the Great Hall on tliis
SepternlM-r IJOth. 1399. The
walls of the venerable build-
ing were " hung and trimmed
sumptuously." and tin-
managers of the affair had
"caused to be set up a Kuyall
chaire, on purpose to choose
a newe King, neare to which
the prelates were sit. and on
the other side sat the Lords,
and after, the Commons in
order." Richard's renuncia-
tion was read aloud, and
the Archbishop of Canterbury
demanded of the States and
people then present whether
they would, for their own
interest and the welfare of
the realm, admit the cession
so made. A great shout of approval supplied an affirmative answer, and thereafter,
when sentence of deposition had been formally pronounced against Richard, the Duke of
Lancaster, devoutly crossing himself, spoke as follows: "In the name of Father, Son,
and Holy Ghost, I, Henry of Lancaster, challenge this realm of England, and the crown,
with all the members and appurtenances; as that I am descended by right line of
the blood coming from the good Lord King Henry III. ; and through the right that
God, of His grace, hath sent me, with the help of my kin and of my friends, to
recover it; the which realm was in point to be undone for default of governance and
undoing of the good laws." Again the assembly clamorously signified its approbation of
the act, and the new Sovereign was led to the throne by the two archbishops. Halting
at the lower step, he knelt for a few minutes in silent prayer, and then was placed in
the Royal seat by the two ecclesiastics. The announcement of various appointments, and
the fixing of the following Monday for the coronation ceremony, brought to a termination
a scene as important in its consequences as any that had hitherto been witnessed on that
famous spot.
Shakespeare, with his keen instinct for the picturesque, has with poetic licence used the
Hall as the setting for the great scene in Richard II. in which the act of renunciation
was performed. Every Shakesj>earean student is familiar with the moving language which
is put into the unfortunate King's mouth. First we have bitter reflections on his fallen
state : —
Alack I why am I sent for to a King,
Before I have shook off the regal thoughts
Wherewith I reigned ? I hardly yet have learned
To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my limbs:
Give sorrow leave awhile to tutor me
To thig submission. Yet I well remember
The favours of these men: were they not mine T
Did they not sometime cry, " All hail ! " to me ?
So Judas did to Christ : but He in twelve
Found truth in all but one; I, in twelve thousand, none.
Coronation Ceremonies at the Palace
183
At last Kichard brings himself to make the sacrifice,
formal act of renunciation : —
In these pathetic terms he completes the
I give this heavy weight from off my head,
And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand,
The pride of kingly sway from out my heart ;
With mine own tears I wash away my balm,
With mine own hands I give away my crown,
With mine own tongue deny my sacred state,
With mine own breath release all duty's rites:
All pomp and majesty I do forswear.
Long mayst thou live in Richard's seat to sit,
And soon lie Eichard in an earthy pit !
God save King Harry, unking'd Richard says.
There is greater warrant in history for another scene witnessed in the Hall of which stirring
memories have been handed down to us. This was the episode in 1415 which marked the
return of Henry V. from the glorious field of Agincourt. Modest as he was brave, the gallant
King deprecated the excessive fervour of his subjects. He prohibited the singing of songs of
conquest. " Neyther would he suffer to be carried before him, nor showed unto the people, his
helmet whereupon his crown of gold was broke and deposed on the field by the violence of the
enemie, nor his other armour that in that cruell battaile was so sore broken ; but as the faithful
constant champion of God, he eschewed all occasions of vaine glory, and refused the vaine
praises of the people." A fitting pendant to this picture of the triumphant monarch received
by his subjects was the reception a few months later by the King in the Hall of the Emperor
Sigismund, to conclude a peace on behalf of France.
THE CORONATION CEREMONY IN WESTMINSTER HALL — JAMES II.
" Shewing how the King and Queen, with the nobility and others, did sit at dinner on the day of the coronation, April 27tb, 1685. With the
manner of serving up the first course of hot meat to their Majesties' table."
184
Parliament Past and Present
Henry IV.'s coronation was conducted on a scale of unexain]>l«Hl grandeur. Froissart, wlio
gives a most minute account of the ceremony, states that he was accompanied to Westminster
from the Tower by a cavalcade of 6,000 horse, "including his own immediate attendants
and the City companies in their respective liveries." The streets were protu«elv decorated.
and "there were nine fountains contiiuudly flowing with red and white wine, independently
of another fountain in the Palace court, giving issue to similar liquids from various mouths."
The banquet in Westminster Hall was in keeping with these arrangements. As a manuscript
preserved in the British Museum shows, the fare was profuse to the point of repletion. In
the first course, in addition to several dishes of mysterious comjwsition. there were Ixuir's head,
swans, capons, pheasants, herons, sturgeons, and one of those "subtleties " in which the ancient
cook so greatly delighted. The second course introduced "venison in frumenty," jelly, young
pigs stuffed, peacocks, cranes, venison pasty, tongue, bittern, "fowls gilded," large t;
rashers of ham or brawn, and another "subtlety." In the last course the guests had served
for their delectation quinces in confection, young eagles, curlews, partridges, pigeons, quails,
snij>e, small birds, rabbits, white brawn sliced, eggs in jelly, fritters, sweetmeats, eggs, and
finally a " subtlety." It was a princely feast, indeed, and one to appeal to the most fastidious
of appetites as well as to the most robust. A strong contrast to the viands supplied on this
occasion is afforded by the mfuu for the coronation banquet of Queen Katherine, Consort of
Henry V., on February 24th, 1421. Owing to the fact that the season was Lent, the dishes \\.-n-
all fish. Fabyan, the chronicler, who gives a detailed description of the banquet, says that in
the first course was "a sotyltie called a pellycan, syttyng on her nest with her bvrdes, and an
image of St. Katheryne holdyng a booke and dysputynge with the doc-tours." Other dishes in
the subsequent two courses included, besides carp, turbot, tench, and perch, "porpies (porpoise;
rostyd " and "mennys (minnows) fried." Last, there was "a marchpane garnysshed with
dieverss fygures of angellys, amonge the whiche was set an image of Seynt Katheryne." The
feast, according to all accounts, was a great success, unlike that which accompanied the
coronation of Richard III. and his Consort, Anne, on July 6th, 1483. The third course of
this, we are told, "was so late that there myght no servyce be served sayving wafers and hipocracf."
Subsequent banquets of the Tudor period i>artook of much the same character as those ahvadv
described. The coronation of Henry VIII., however, was distinguished by unusual splendour.
An old writer gives a vivid picture of the progress through the streets to Westminster, with
Katherine of Arragon borne on a litter, with two white palfreys "apparelled in white satyn
embroidered, her heeire hanging
downe to her back of a very
great length, hewtefull and goodly
to behold, and on her head a
coronate set with many rich
orient stones." .lousts and
tourneys were arranged within
the Palace precincts, and in order
that the King and Queen could
the better witness them. "\\a-
framed a fair house covered with
tapestry and hanged with rich
cloths of arras." Another charac-
teristic feature of the pageant
was •• a curious fountain, and over
it a castle; on the top thereof
a great crown imperial, all the
embattling being with roses and
WOMK-J IN TUB coBosATiox PROCESSION op JAMES it. pomegranates gilded. . . . And
Theee Uilin beaded the cortege and >trawed tweet herbt in the monarch'! i»th. out of several places of the same
185
186
Parliament Past and Present
ARCH KKKTTEI) IN \Vi:.-TM 1 N- I ;:i:
TIIK CORONATION OF GEOUGK II.
HALL FOB
castle on tlio several days of tin- coronation.
jousts, and tourneys, out of tin- mouths of
certain beasts or gargels did run ml. white.
.Mid claret H'ine." In short, as Arthur Taylor
in his "Glory of Hegality " observes, the
display was " worthy of the golden age of
]>ageants." Practically the same gorgeous
arrangements were made on the invasion of
the coronation of the unfortunate Ainu-
Holeyn, whom the King made it a special
]H>int to honour. It is recorded that during
the banijuet the King, witli various am-
bassadors, stood to observe the service in a
"little closet" constructed "out of the
Clo/otesof St. Stephen's." l'oor Anne! Not
many years later she was a victim to the
savagery of her tyrant husband on the scaffold,
and subsequently, on February 4th. 1540,
Anne of Cleves, her successor in the fickle
affections of the King, was being taken with
much state from (ireenwich to \\Y>t min-ter
by water, accompanied by "the Lord Mayor
and his brethren, with twelve of the elil-le
companies of the citie, all in barge-., gor-
geously garnished, with baners. penons. and
targets, richlie covered, and furnished with
instruments sweetly sounding.'' The river procession, of which this was an example, was a
popular feature of the pageantry of this period. When Elizabeth, in accordance with custom.
l>efore her coronation proceeded to the Tower to prepare for the ceremony, she followed tin-
river route. Embarking on January 12th, 1559, at the Uoyal stairs by the 1'alace side, she was
escorted by the Lord Mayor and the City companies in their handsome barges to the stern
old fortress. Great were, the rejoicings which accompanied her progress, but this Water
Triumph, as it was termed, was insignificant compared with the grand pageant called the
City Triumph, which marked her return, two days later, to Westminster. In her train wen-
included the flower of the nobility, and the streets, decked with lavish hand, were rilled with
substantial citizens. As she passed along Cheapside she was presented with a Hiblo. which she
pressed to her heart, in a pious fervour which gave immense satisfaction to her people, who
saw in the act an indication that the Reformed Faith would receive justice at her hands. The
subsequent ceremonies in Westminster Hall were accompanied by all the time-honoured adjuncts.
not omitting the Champion's challenge and the presentation by the Lord Mayor of hyppocraa
and spiced wine in a gold cup, which afterwards became his property.
With the gradual decay of the Palace of Westminster, the coronation functions were
divested of some of their less important features. But the change was not sufficiently er,-;1i
to have any marked effect on the ceremony. As heretofore, tin- King on the day of his
coronation went in procession from the Palace to the Abbey, and continued to return thither
immediately after the ceremony to preside at the banquet in We.-tmin.-ter Hall, at which the
purely secular portions of the celebration were enacted. Of the later Stuart coronations 8
complete picture lias been left us in the works of Ashinole and Sandford. "those learned
IleraliK" as they were termed by a writer of a somewhat later day. The description of the
ceremony which distinguished Charles II. 's accession is minute to the ]>oint of tcdiou>ne>s.
From it we gather that at seven o'clock upon the morning of the ceremoiiv (St. (ieorge's Day) "the
King entered into his rich Iwirge, took water from the Priory Stairs at Whitehall, and lauded
Coronation Ceremonies at the Palace
187
at the Parliament Stairs, from whence he proceeded up to the room behind the Lords' House
called the Prince's lodgings, where, after he had reposed himself for a while, he was arrayed
in his Koyal robes of crimson velvet, furred with ermine, by which time the nobility being
assembled, robed themselves in the Lords' House and the Painted Chamber." All being in
readiness, and " the nobility having been called over in the Painted Chamber," a move was
made to Westminster Hall, where at the western end his Majesty was "set in his chair under
a rich cloth of state." Thereafter " Sir Gilbert Talbot, the Master of the Jewel House, presented
the sword of state, as also the sword called curtana, and two other swords, to the Lord High
Constable, who took and delivered them to the I/)rd High Chamberlain, and he, having drawn
the last, laid them upon the table before the King." This was followed by the presentation
of the regalia by the clergy of the Abbey, headed by the Dean, as a preliminary to the
procession through New Palace Yard and King Street to the west door of the Abbey. The
religious ceremony completed there was a return in state to the Hall for the banquet. The
first course was ushered in by a ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^====^^^^^=^==1
gorgeous procession, in which the
Lord High Steward, the Earl
Marshal, and the Lord High
Constable, all on horseback, " in
their robes and having their
coronets on their heads," figured
conspicuously. When dinner was
on the table — rather cold, one
would suppose, after so much
ceremony — "the King came forth
from the Inner Court of Wards
in his Koyal robes, with the crown
on his head and septer in his
hand, having the three swords
borne naked before him." Soon
after he had taken his sefit "the
Lord Allington carried to the
King his first draught of drink
in a silver gilt cup, being assisted
bv the Earl of Pembroke and
Montgomery, Viscount Montague,
and the Lord Paget, his assistants."
Next appeared on the scene
" Thomas Leigh, Esq., with a
mess of pottage called dellegrout ;
this service being adjudged unto
him by the aforesaid Court of
Claims, in right of the manor of
Addington, in Surrey ; whereupon
the Lord High Chamberlain
presented him to the King, who
accepted his service, but did not
eat thereof." And so the banquet
proceeded to the close of the
second course, amid a mass of
ceremonial which must have
been quite destructive of the THE CORONATION- OP CEOKGE
lioVill appetite. "Bv this time
i88
Parliament Past and Present
TUB COURT OP CLAIMS.
A lilting in ill* Painted Chamber of the tribunal which nettled the respective right* to serve the Sovereign at the corwn.-it i..n.
the day lieing pretty fur sjK?nt, the King, having water brought him by the Karl of Pembroke
ami his assistants, washed and rose from dinner, and retiring into the Inner Court of Wards,
and having disrolxxl, went privately to his barge and so t<> Whitehall, where he landed."
It would seem nit her curious that the King should have quitted the banquet it. g hall
before the serving of the third and final course if we did not know from Satidford's ] aim-taking
le-i-iu-ches that special provision was made for the Itoyol table. A minute of Council ixsticd
prior to the coronation sets forth that there "he provided for his .Majesty in the nature of an
ambigiie ; but with -two courses, in regard to the ceremonies that are to 1*> jHTformed at the
second course." The nature of an "amhiguc" is best explained by the following quatrain
1 1 noted liy .lnhiiMin from an old work on the art of cookery:
When straitened in your time, and servants few,
You'll richly then compose an anibigue,
\Vhno first and second course, and your desert.
All in one single table have ilieir purl.
The arrangement was, no doubt, convenient, but we cannot imagine a Sovereign in these days
having a >pe<-i-d meal to himself, and deserting the festive Ixiard in the middle of the banquet.
Something, however. iiiuM In- allowed for human weakness. The coronal inn ceremonies were
fatiguing to the jK.int of exhaustion. It is recorded of one Sovereign that he was so \\orn
out In-fore the proceedings had half concluded that he had to retire to his apartments for rest.
Piifsihly it may have heen this cause which led to the incident familiarly associated with
the crowning of James II. Returning to the 1'alace after the service in the Abl>ey, the crown
tottered on Iris head, and would have fallen off had not the Hon. Henry Sidney rushed to
the rescue. He is reported to have said as he held the dazzling circlet: "This is not the first
5 s
g. >
=• >
• H
I 3
I B
189
190
Parliament Past and Present
UKOUUK IV. IN HIS CORONATION KOIIKS.
The enormous weight of the robea grently inconvenienced the King during the coronation ceremony.
linn' our family have supjiorted the Crown," a grim piece of pleasantry which .lames could
hardly have n-lislied.
James II.'s coronation was arranged on a scheme of exceptional splendour, and it found
so much favour that it formed the model for subsequent coronations up to, and including, that
of (ieorge II. and his Consort, Queen Caroline. One feature to be noted in the procession from
the Hall to the Abhey was the presence of "the Strewer of Flowers in Ordinary to his .Majesty."
who, assisted by six "herb women." strewed sweet herbs and flowers from baskets tliev carried in
the way of the Sovereign as he walked the six hundred yards or more which was the length
of the conventional coronation course. A versified description of the coronation of George II.
and Caroline, recited by the boys of the Westminster School, gives some interesting glimpses
of the pageant. First, we have the eagerness of anticipation: —
Chloe, impatient for th' approaching sight,
For once vouchsafes to rise by candlelight.
Glass, combs, and essences in order stand,
M:iid, sempstress, lacquey, wait her wide command.
Swift fly the hours; ami scarce by op'uing morn
An hundred hands the tinish'd fair adorn.
Sleep on secure, when this day's toil is done ;
And boast that once you've seen the risinjr sun.
Happy that now you ne'er will want a theme
To talk of waking, and when sleeping dream.
Then comes the realisation: —
Kirst in procession of the pompous day,
With frngiant llow'rs a matron marks the way:
Xuxt trumpets, kettledrums, and various band,
Too hard, too many in a \rrsr to stand;
Then peers, rails, dukes, their different lights display,
And last both Majesties meridian day!
To small beginnings what great things we owe,
Since one old woman opens such a show.
Coronation Ceremonies at the Palace
191
The herb woman is not the only figure in the procession which attracts the curious notice
of the youthful spectators : —
Behold the man in solemn state,
Whose scarlet mantle shows him great!
Of what new order can he be ?
The King's First Organ Blower he !
Oh ! could I but thy praises sing,
First Organ Blower to the King !
The masters of the tuneful trade
Must own thy necessary aid ;
Thou in their harmony may'st claim
At least an equal share of fame :
Mute without thee the organ's found ;
Theirs are the notes but thine the sound.
To the banquet in the Hall several verses are devoted. They may be quoted, as they
indicate the character of the changes necessitated by the function in the ordinary uses of
the Hall:—
When Itufus finishVl saw his Hall, he said
Twas scarce sufficient for a Royal bed.
When George and Car'line with their shining train
Enter that roof, we may once more complain,
And in regret with honest Rufus join:
The Hall's too little for the guests to dine.
THE COHONATIOM OF GEORGE IV. IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY.
The view shows the ceremony at the i»oiiit where the King is actually crowned.
192 Parliament Past and Present
MIIIIV exi>edients, in fact. liail to In- adopted to sijuee/e tin- company in:
T'lKlmit tht) jfiif>l« U.t Hull rxpaml- its
. ,.»rt re ..... »<-il. iinil rvi-n llu- Alma Cur,'
For lirre both Inw i»n<l equity ;i^'
Anil issue join upon tun- ('"inni'm I'l.-a.
Tlmt naught I* wen thin iluy but harmony.
Uli-t cniu-onl! Imlil but till tl»- irrm's near >i«'iit,
Twuulil turn the lawyers' Cliriatmas into l.< nt.
Here we must take leave of tliis lively record. It is not great, even as schoolboy's doggerel.
Imt it is interesting as a contemporary picture of the coronation, as well as an indication of
the close association between the School and the Palace an association which to this day i>
marked by the admission of certain of the West mincer scholars to the public gallery of the
||oii>e of Commons without the customary formality
of obtaining an order.
The coronation of (ieorge III. and his Queen
in 1764 followed in all respects the familiar lines.
but it was distinguished by an incident which
created some stir at the time. When t he Champion
delivered his challenge in Westminster Mall, and
the gauntlet was thrown on the ground (so the
story runs), a lady's glove, apparently ca.-t from
some of the upjHT benches. Muttered to the Hags
by the side of it. No one was able to detect the
owner, and subsequent iinjiiiry was not more sti.
ful in unravelling the mystery. Soon, however, a
rumour got into circulation that the glove had been
thrown by the Young Pretender, who had penetrated
to the Hall disguised in female attire, out of a
romantic desire to participate in the ceremony —
probably an idle invention, so far. at least, as the
glove-throwing is concerned. But there is no doubt
that it was widely Ix'lieved at the time that the
young Jacobite Prince was actually a spectator of
the proceedings. This is shown by a statement
which appeared in the <i>'ii/lfiiinn'n M<(i/<izin<> for 1764, to the effect that it was -publicly
«aid that the Voting Pretender himself came from Flanders to see the coronation; that he was
in Westminster Hall during the ceremony, and in London two or three days before and after
it, under the nan f Mr. Brown."
A further and more direct reference to the subject is contained in the following passage
«>f a letter written by Mr. Hume to one of his literary friends: "What will surprise you more.
the I/onl .Marshal, a few days after the coronation of the present King, told me that he believed
that the Young Pretender was at that time- in London, or. at least, had been so very lately, and
had come over to see the show of the coronation, and had actually seen it. I asked my lord
the reason for this strange fact. 'Why.' says he. 'a gentleman told me so who saw him then-.
and whispered in his ear—" Your Royal Highness is the last of all mortals whom I should
expect to see here." "It was curiosity that led me." said the other, "but I assure you," added
he, "that the person who is the cause of all this pomp and magnificence is the man I envy the
Least,"' True or false, the story has been cited by coronation writers as the solitary instance
in which the Champion's challenge ever met with a response of any kind.
TIIK CHOWX ill-1
The Court* of Chancery, the King's Bench, anil the Common Pleas, which then stood within the limits of the ll.-ill.
Coronation Ceremonies at the Palace
193
THE CORONATION' PROCESSION OP GEORGE IV. PROM THK ABBEY TO WESTMINSTER HALL.
The route followed was from the west door of the Abbey to the great door of Westminster Hall.
As the last of a long line of coronations with full honours, that of George IV. demands
particular notice. An immense sum of public money was spent upon the ceremony, and no
«'fl'ort was .spared to promote its success as a spectacle. The arrangements in Westminster
Hall were on an exceptionally elaborate scale. At the western end was the throne, with a
gorgeous canopy embellished with a wealth of gold. The background was of crimson velvet,
with the Royal arms embroidered on it. In front was the Royal table, coloured purple with a
rim of gold, and an interior square moulding also of gold. From the roof were suspended
by gilt chains massive cut-glass lustres with broad ornamental frames, containing three circles
of wax candles. Scarlet-covered galleries rose from the floor on either side of the Hall, and
at the upper end of the building were boxes for the Royal Family and tne Foreign ministers,
resplendent in gilding. It was all very magnificent, but it did not seem to harmonise with
the permanent features of the Hall — the time-stained roof-tree and the grey walls. The actual
cereiimnv was, in some respects, even less in keeping with the place. Although well-known
prize-fighters were engaged to keep the peace, the utmost disorder prevailed. Before the King
appeared on the scene there were squabbles for places, ending in one instance almost in a
free fight. Even after his .Majesty arrived there was much difficulty in maintaining a
M-mlilance of order.
It is probable that the efforts made by Queen Caroline, the King's ill-used Consort, to
secure a place in the jiageant had a demoralising effect upon the arrangements. The question
of the Queen's right to participate in the coronation ceremonies had been the subject of
formal pnx-eedings before the Privy Council, and it had been decided that the Queen was not
entitled as of right to be crowned at the same time as her husband. But, undeterred by this
adverse ruling, Caroline determined to make an effort to be present at the ceremony. Early
on the coronation day the Queen, accompanied by Lord Hood, arrived in her carriage, near
'25
194
Parliament Past and Present
MISS KKl.I.OWI.-,
A herb woman in the coronation jiroorasion of Ueorge IV.
the New I'alnoe YnnL ainiil the |ilaiiilits of the
mob. At tin- Poet*' (.toner entrance of the Abhey
Ixinl HIN«|. on IIIT Majesty's behalf, demanded
admission. The attendant, however, firmly but
mi|Nvt fully declined to let her IMISS without the
nipit-iii- authorisation. "I Mil you ever hear of
a Queen U-ing asked for a ticket before?" in-
quired I»rd Iloml. The doorkce|ier rejilie<l that
his onlers were general, and without any exceji-
tions. "I present to you your Queen," jiersisted
the | »eer. "Do you refuse her admission ?" The
attendant was not to be moved. His orders
were jieremptory, and, reluctant as he might be
to discharge his duty, he could not allow the
Queen to IMISS without n ticket. Lord Hood now
produced a ticket for one, nnd a colhxjuy ensued
as to whether the Queen should use it. Ulti-
mately she decided not to enter the Ahbev
alone. Then ensued a curious scene, described by
an eye-witness: "As she turned round to quit
the sjKrt, some persons in the doorway burst into
a vulgar laugh of derision. Her Majesty looked
at them contemptuously ; and Lord Hood ob-
-i-rved that in such a place he exacted to have
met decorous conduct, at least, towards a Sovereign
in>tead of that she had been denied her
indubitable right, and been treated not only in an ill-mannered, but in an unmanly \vav.
Her Majesty then turned about and passed through a group of fashionable women who
wi-re going to the Abbey with tickets, but who did not take the slightest notice of her.
On her entering her carriage there was considerable disapprobation, mingled with eric.- ol
•Shame! Shame!' M)ff! Off!' but the other parts of the populace repeated the cries of
•The Queen! The Queen!' with great enthiiMasm."
A more degrading and humiliating episode had never
been experienced at a coronation, and the King would have
been less than human if it had not produced some effect,
upon him. Throughout the subsequent ceremony he showed
himself ill at ease. A spectator who witnessed the ceremony
thus pictures him : " Precisely at ten o'clock the King
entered the hall from the door behind the throne, habited
in robes of enormous size and richness, wearing a black hat
with a monstrous plume of ostrich feathers, out of the mid>t
of which rose a black heron's plume. His .Majesty seemed
much oppressed with the weight of his robes. The train
was of enormous length and breadth; it was of criniMiu
vehet. adorned with large golden stars and a broad golden
bonier. His Maje-ty Irccjueiitly wiped his face while he
remained seated. In descending the steps of the platform
he seemed very feeble, and requested the aid of an oth'cer
who was near him. Instead of standing under the canopy,
his Maje>ty, perhaps afraid of the awkwardness of the
OI-KKX CAKOUNK. barons, preceded it. The canopy was, therefore, always borne
c«i»nrt of cieorpt iv. after him. When he had got a little way down tin- Hall, he
H 5
195
196
Parliament Past and Present
£y ptrMMion of the /,•-•>"' AirlxtoloyictU Jiistitute.
THE ALB USED nY QI'KKX VICTORIA AT 1II1U
CORONATION'.
turned t<> his bnin-bearcn and requested them
to U-ar his train farther from liini. ap|tarently
with a vii-w to rclea>e himself fr tin- weight."
The arrangements ioi tin- banquet do not
appear to have U-cn altogether happy. Some
two thousand candles had IM-CH employed in the
lighting of the Hall, and the heat from the.-e
w:i- tremendous. Nor was this the only incon-
venience, "lor occasionally large pieces of melted
wa\ fell without distinction of ]«-rsons U|M»I all
within reach." In the circum-tances it is only
natural that great haute was played with the
curl> of many of the ladies, whose hair "had
lo-t all traces of the friseur's skill long before
the ceremony of the day was concluded.'' There-
was a -insular lack of order alxiut the proceed-
ings. Alter the Kind's return from the Abbey,
and while he was di\e-ting himself of his iul><->
in his private apartment, the ladies and gentle-
men from the galleries promenaded up and
down between tin- tallies and helped themselves
to the dishes so bountifully provided. Further
disorder was caused by the action of some of
the City aldermen, who as SIM in as they entered
the Hall walked over to one of the table.-,
leaving several behind who ought to have pre-
ceded them. The mistake was corrected. \»
the amusement of the other guests, because.
siys the veracious writer previou>ly quoted, "of
the well-known attachment of the worthy alder-
men to the enjoyment of the table." These
premature attacks upon the viands could scarce! v
have served to appreciably diminish them, lor
the supply was on the nx^t lavish scale. The
following particulars of the quantities furnished
were published at the time : —
HOT DISHES.
1GO tureens of soup : 80
ol turtle, 40 of
rice, and 40 vermicelli.
160 dishes of fish: comprising 80 of turbot, 40 of trout, 40 of salmon.
160 hot joints: including 80 of venison, 40 of roast beef, with three barons. 40 of mutton
and veal.
HiO dishes of vegetables: including ]>otatoes, peas, and cauliflowers.
480 wiuce boats: 240 of lobsters, 120 butter, 120 mint.
COLD DISHKS.
80 dishes of braised ham; HO savoury pies ; 80 dishes of daubed geese, two in each; 80
dishes of savoiirv cakes; HO pieces of beef, braised; 80 dishes of ca|Mins, braised, two in each;
1,190 side dishes of various sorts; 320 dishes of mounted pastry; 1520 dishes of small pastry;
400 dishes of jellies and creams; 1(50 dishes of shell fish, 80 of lob.-ter and 80 of cray-fish ;
160 dishes of cold roast fowls; 80 dishes of cold house lamb.
197
198
Parliament Past and Present
TOTAL (Ji ANTITIKS.
7,742 Ibs. of beef; 7. i:i:» Ihs. <>f veal;
2.474 His. of mutton; 20 quarters of
house lain!) ; .") saddles of lamb; 55
quarters of grass laiuli; 100 lambs' > \\i-rt -
breads; MS* row heels; 400 calvo' feet;
2.50 Ibs. of suet; 160 geese; 721) pullets
ami capon-; l.(!10 chickens; 520 fowls
for stock; 1,730 Ibs. of bacon ; 550 Ibs.
of lard; 912 Ibs. of butter; K loo eggs.
A gargantuan feast, truly! Needless
to sav. tin- crumbs that remained after
the diners bail satisfied their appetites
were very substantial. If the old custom
had U-en followed these fragments would
have been left for the erowd to scramble
for after the banquet, but in this instance
they were handed over to the poor of
St. Margaret's, in order to avoid the
disgraceful scenes which at other corona-
tions had succeeded the banquet. The
forethought shown in this reject, how-
ever, did not prevent an extensive
appropriat ion — or misappropriat ion — of
substantial objects. What followed tin-
ret irement of the King is thus graphically
described: "For a few seconds delicacy.
or a disinclination to be the first to
commence the scene of plunder, sus-
pended the projected attack, but at last
a rude hand having been thrust through
the first ranks, and a golden fork having
-ei/ed. this operated as a signal to all, and was followed by a general snatch. In a
short time all the small portable articles were transferred to the pockets of the multitude.
The Lord Great Chamlxn-lain, l>eing alarmed by the confusion, returned to the Hall, and by
the greatest JHTSOIM! exertion succeeded in preventing the extension of the supposed ' licensed
plunder' to the more costly parts of the coronation plate. With great difficulty all the
remaining part of the plate was removed to Cotton Garden, and all the apprehensions on
this score having subsided, the marauders were left to the undisturbed possession of their
coronation privileges in the body of the Hall, and thither they turned their attentions."
The scene which ensued here was extraordinary. "A raging thirst was the first want to be
sati-fied, and in a very few moments every bottle on the board was emptied of its contents.
A fresh supply was, however, soon obtained from the cellarets, and all rear-unable calls of this
sort were complied with. While some were thus occupied, others still pursued the work of
plunder. Arms were everywhere seen stretched forth breaking and destroying the table orna-
ments, which were of themselves too cumbrous to remove, for the pur]>ose of obtaining
-onie trophy commemorative of the occasion; thus baskets, flower-pots, vases, and figures,
were everywhere disappearing, and those were followed by glasses, knives and forks, saltsjioons.
and. finally, the plates and dishes. These last were of pewter, and engraved with the Royal
arms and the letters Mieo. IV.,' and were, therefore, greatly coveted. The dirty state of these
articles, however, added to the inconsistency of their appearance with full Court dn-- >•>.
R* p-rmiu:o« ttfllir Rttml Arrhadniicat Institute.
EN VICTORIA'S COUOXATIOS TUNICLE AND STOLE.
Coronation Ceremonies at the Palace
199
deterred many from appropriating them to their own
use, although some, laying aside all delicacies of this
sort, did not fail to take out their handkerchiefs and,
amidst their folds, to conceal their much-prized
spoils,"
When the Hall had been thoroughly looted,
every one was anxious to get away from the Palace,
but the crowded nature of the streets made the
bringing up of the carriages a slow process. Ex-
hausted with the fatigues of the day, and perhaps
overcome by more subtle influences, the company
threw themselves down indiscriminately in the rooms
of the Palace — " peers and peeresses, judges and privy
councillors, knights of all orders, and commoners of
all degrees lay promiscuously, some on sofas, some
on chairs, and a still greater number on the matted
floors of the rooms and passages in which they
happened to have sought refuge." In this position
" many were overtaken with sleep, and scenes were
presented extremely at variance with the splendid
and dignified spectacle which had been but a few
hours before exhibited in the presence of the
Sovereign." Not until three o'clock in the morning
had all the guests departed, and at that hour, we
are told, "several of the ladies were so completely
worn out that it became necessary to carry them
to their carriages." Even then the difficulties of the
Palace officials were not over. The populace, kept at
a distance during the ceremony, had now been per-
mitted to surround the Palace, and were clamouring
menacingly at the gates for admission. Hurriedly
the coronation plate — or such of it as had been left
by the fashionable depredators — was carried to a
place of safety, and One of the Officials Was Sent to Bti pmniiiion of the Royal Arcliaologiml Institute.
temporise with the mob. Fortunately, the crowd was THE COPE OB IMPERIAL MANTLE WORN BY QUEEN
amenable to reason. It remained passive while the VICTORIA AT HER CORONATION.
official in question harangued it, and the arrival of
a strong force of military shortly afterwards removed all further cause of anxiety. Thus
ended the last and most costly of the coronation feasts in Westminster Hall. Keviewing the
scones and incidents of the day, it is easy to understand why, when William IV. came to the
throne a few years later, it should have been decided to abandon this portion of the time-
honoured function. Nor does it appear remarkable that when Queen Victoria was crowned
in 1838 there should have been wanting a disposition to revise the decision then come to.
Nevertheless, it cannot but be regretted that this, perhaps the most attractive chapter in
the history of the grand old Hall, should not have been completely written.
C1IA1TER XV.
MKXORIKS OF ST. STEPHENS (continued)— Tl I K XISKTKKSTH CEXTURY.
the great Parliamentary era of the eighteenth century had ]>assed away, with its
inspiring traditions, there luul appeared ujKm the floor of tin- House of Commons, in the
l»-r-<'ii of (ieorge Cunning, a new and promising candidate for the laurels of fame. Filtering
the House in 1793. as member for Xewtown, in the Isle of Wight, after a brilliant car. •< -r at
Ktoii and Oxford, Canning had instantly attracted attention by the brilliancy of his talents.
Hi* 8|>eeches were not only marked by a great charm of style and natural eloquence, but were
distinguished by an argumentative force and a grasp of facts exceedingly rare in one so young.
A literary reputation dating back to his Kton days helped to strengthen the favour with
which he was received. With uncommon rapidity for a novice devoid of family ties and
influence, he worked his way to the very front rank of political aspirants of his day.
lie owed his entry into Parliament to Pitt.
and his rapid rise was assisted by the
encouragement and support of the great
-talesman. who showed a flattering confidence
in his powers by selecting him. from a
number of formidable competitors and rivals.
for duties calling for the displav of excej>-
tional skill. That Minister's retirement in
1801 put a temjKmiry cheek ui>on Canning's
advancement. There now came into power
the "Cabinet of .Mediocrities'" known as
the Addington Ministry. With this group
of respectable nonentities, the clever young
politician had nothing in common. Soon
he was engaged in pouring ujwn it the
copious streams of his mordant satire.
Sheridan took a hand in the game, and
when Pitt himself returned to Westminster
t" strengthen the Opposition, the }>osition
of Ministers became insupportable. They
resigned in 1803, and Pitt, impelled by the
imperious necessities of the time, was called
upon to form a Ministry. He attempted
to arrange a coalition, of which (iremille
and Fox. it was pro)>osed, should l>e lead-
ing members; but the King's ineradicable
aversion to Fox prevented the arrangement.
In the end a new Administration was brought
together. coni]M>sed of most of the memlx-rs
of the discredited ( in\ 'eminent, with Pitt as
Prime Minister. Pitt's death on January 23rd,
IHOli, put a period to its existence, but not
, Hit Inut by Kir franeaiCkantrty, K.A., in the national Portrait
Gallery.
THE KlfillT HON. CKOKQE CANMM;.
•."no
Memories of St. Stephen's— -The Nineteenth Century 2O1
before it had taken the
first memorable step
towards the abolition of
the Slave Trade. Gren-
ville and Fox were now
associated, with the
King's reluctant ac-
quiescence, in forming
a Government. It was a
combination scarcely
less fortunate than the
Addington Administra-
tion. With the fatal
facility which then ob-
tained for coining
damaging nicknames,
the public, in allusion
to the extremely varied
elements which went to
make up the ruling
body, applied to it the
description " The Minis-
try of All the Talents."
Weak from the day of
its formation, the
Government was heavily
shaken by the death of
Fox on September 13th,
1806, and when, in 1807,
it introduced a bill to
relieve Roman Catholic
and Dissenting officers
from certain disabilities,
in defiance of the King's
strongly held views on
Catholic emancipation, it
courted the dismissal
which awaited it at the
Royal hands.
Now came Canning's
opportunity. Marked out for high office by talents which shone with a greater lustre by reason
of the dead level of commonplace to which the political forces of the time had been reduced by
the successive removal of the great Parliamentary gladiators of the past era, he stepped, as it
were by right, into one of the greatest positions in the new Ministry which was formed under
the Duke of Portland's leadership on the dismissal of Grenville and his colleagues. The office
entrusted to him was that of Foreign Secretary, a position of great honour and responsibility
at all times, but rendered doubly important at this grave juncture in the affairs of the nation,
when the continental outlook was black with the clouds of a coining storm. He played his part
as the exponent of the Government's foreign policy, and as principal defender of their measures,
with a zeal and an ability which delighted his friends. He was, in the words of one of his
biographers, "the Ajax of the political host." Indomitable, resourceful, and indefatigable, he
stood in the Parliamentary arena and faced the fierce attacks which were directed against the
26
a
.. - f/'
£
(fa h.- in nfff. vvy y$i/n • rifattp 'h Hws y*t w.4n
' '" '" ' -i ">! '" »y6/t<SKTJi,tyf frffth< fy-Aw,* lJu*n ^atoMr HUyM. fa *. Ivt'tjth IT/ tt '•':
• • Wufr\/kt fff }wW£tlf or > • •• ' . •
-.]-.._ _^, jffyjff 4o>^J fy- 6/yVty ^Ifcflff titt WfAicAyAu fflWTo Iff fmtf&pft/ AW Oitflilifit t^ MMfrAft'^V
A CARICATURE BY GILLRAY OF SHERIDAN,
Aimed at the statesman's habit of carefully elaborating impromptus, and firing them off at odd intervals.
202
Parliament Past and Present
Administration. The test of his power was the
vigour witli which lie wa» personally assailed
by the OpjK.sition writer-. The |{ev. Sydne\
Smith, in his "Letters of Peter Plymle\."
especially singled him out for his keen shafts
of ridicule. Thus in his seventh letter the
reverend \\it says of him: "That he is an
extraordinary writer of small |».etry. and a
droll wit of the highest lustre, I do iii'>-t
readily admit. Alter George Selwyn, and
perhaps Tickell. there has been no such man
for this half-century. The Foreign Secret ars-
is a gentleman, a respect al tie as well as a
highly agreeable man in private lite; hut
you may as well feed me with decayed
potatoes as console me for the miseries of
Ireland by the resources of his sense and his
discretion. It is only the puMic situation
which this gentleman holds which entitles
me, or induces me, to say so much alxmt
him. He is a fly in amher; nobody cares
about the fly; the only question is. Mow the
devil did it get there? Nor do I attack him
from the love of glory, but from the love of
utility, as a burgomaster hunts a rat in a
Dutch dyke, for fear it should flood a
province."
Vituj>eration only seemed to enhance the reputation of the statesman against whom it
was directed. Steadily he increased his hold upon the House and the country, until an
unfortunate incident, rudely cut short his .Ministerial career for a time. This was his quarrel
with C:\stlereagh. culminating in the historic duel on
Putney Heath. Canning's part in the affair was an
entirely honourable one. Castlereagh's ground of offence
against him was that he had acted treacherously towards
him liy promoting an intrigue for his removal from
the jMisition of War Secretary which he held in the
Ministry; hut there was no real justification for the
charges of underhand dealing. What happened was
that Canning, feeling that he could not work satis-
factorily with Castlcreagh, tendered his resignation to
the head of the Ministry, and only withdrew it on
the understanding that the latter should be removed
to another department more suited to his talents.
The responsibility for keeping the incident from
Ca-tlereagh rested with the Duke of Portland and
the senior members of the Cahinet. Thev acted in
common in the matter, and theirs was the duty of
conveying to the War Secretary the decision come to.
Prolsibly they would have done so had not some
mi8Chief-m»kei divulged the transaction, representing From a print publMcdinim.
Canning in an unfavourable light. A few words of , \\MN<;.
explanation would easily have smoothed matters; but Th. eminent .tatennan a. a young man.
From a* t»f raring a,n<r flu picture by Sir Joilnm Reynold!, P.R.A.
THE lU'KE OP PORTLAND.
The third doke, and a prominent itntoman who twice filled the office of
Prime Minuter.
From the painting by J. Lotudate in t/u National Portrait Gallery.
LORD BROUGHAM,
The celebrated statesman and jurist, who was a leading figure in the public life of the early half of the nineteenth century.
203
2O4
Parliament Past and Present
THE BEV. SYI'MIY SMITH,
Wit and political writer ; • kMO opponent of Canning and UU i»licy.
satisfied after receiving satisfaction than
before."
Asa consequence of this unhappy occur-
rence, Uith Canning and Castlereagh retired
from othYe. and very shortly afterwards the
Ministry completely broke up. The new
(mveriiment. of which I'eivcval was theliead,
was remarkalile chiefly for the inclusion within
its ranks of two young men destined to win
renown ii|x>n the Parliamentary stage. These
wen- l»rd I'alinerston, who in his twenty-
fifth year became Secretary for War, and
Koliert I'eel, who at twenty-three was called
ii|M>n to (ill the | ni-it inn of Under Secretary
for the Colonies. For seven years Canning
remained in the cold shades of Opjwsition.
When lie again took his seat on the Treasury
Henrh it was at the call of the Karl of
LiverjxMil, in IKK!, to discharge the duties of
President of the Hoard of Control, lie had
U-en rei-oiieiled t.i Ca-tlereagh some time
previously, and had subjected himself to much
criticism by accepting at his hands the \K>-\
of Amliassador to Portugal, wit li an extravagant
allowance. These atta.-ks were revived now
when Ca-tlereagh, with charaetei isi i.-
iiujx-tuosjty, addressed an indignant letter
charging liim with duplicity and demand-
ing satisfaction. Canning, in accordance
with the code of honour of the time,
felt that he had no alternative but t.i
accept the challenge which was given.
The meeting took pla.-e in early morning
on Septemlx-r 21st, 1809, the Karl o|
Variuonth acting as Cast Icreagh's secoml.
and .Mr. Ellis Bappotting Canning. Taking
their ground, the antagonists liivd and
missed, and no explanation being given,
they tired a second time, with the result
that Canning was wounded in the
thigh. Vet a further shot would have
Itcen delivered had not the second-,
-eeiug the blood flowing from Canning's
wound, intervened. The parties si i
ated with their animosity little, if at
all. allayed — on Custlcreagh's part, at
all events. This circumstance was ac-
counted for by Sheridan in his own
delightful fashion. •• Castlereagh.'' he
observed, "is an Irishman even in hi-
quarrels, for he was not a whit more
"A BOX OP USEFUL KNOWI.KI"
A caricature genially latiriiing Brongbani'i many-aided qualities.
frvm a mezzotint aJ'Ur the painting by air Thomas Lawrence, P.H.A.
TUB KIGHT HON. GEORGE CANNING.
A mature portrait of the famous statesman and orator, whose administration of foreign affairs constitutes a memorable epoch in political history .
205
206
Parliament Past and Present
that Canning had yet more directly siiUmliimted himself to hi- old enemy. Mis reputat i..n
wm» certainly ii"t enhanced l>y a^.x-iation with the blundering of the Liver|xxil Cabinet; ami
when (juet-n Caroline, to the great dUcomtit lire nf the Ciovernnieiit. returned to Kngland from
Italy in ISL'U to fa.-e h.-r accii-er-. and the preliminary .-teps for her trial were- taken, he
availed him-4'lf of the op|>ortunity of retirement. His withdrawal from arthe official work «.-i-
n.it of lung iliiratinn. In .laniiary. \X'2'2. when alx.nt to start for India to take ii]> the (iovenior-
<M-ncralshi]>— a IXIMIJOII ln:iny \.-ars later to lx- filled under memorable circumstance-, by his
xin — he was ml led UJKHI. by the suicide of his old nntagoni-t CaMlereagh (then Marquis of
l^ondonderiv ). to take over the Foreign Secretary>hip. Alnu»t. at once he was plunged into
the \oiie\ of a tierce |>arty >trife over the question of Catholic emancipation. A bill brought
in to relieve Roman Catholic ]>cers from their disability to sit and vote in t!ie lloii>e of I»rds
found in him an elo«|iient sti|>i>orter. and it was carried by small majorities through the Ibm-i-
of Commons, only, however, to be rejected by the Peers. It was considered by the friends of
the Catholic juirty that Canning had not displayed that ardour on their Itelialf which, from his
pre\iou>ly expressed opinions on the subject, they had a right to expect. As an outco f
this feeling a debate \\a> rai>ed in the Mouse of Commons on April 17th, 1823, and the Minister
«a- \iolently attacked. Then ensued one of those memorable •• >cenes " which are pictureMjiii-
landmark^ in Parliament's history. It came about in this fashion.
Brougham made a virulent sj>eedi, in the course of which, amid other flowers of rhetoric,
lie .-j>oke of Canning as having "exhibited a most incredible sjiecimen of the mo-t mon-
r-trous truckling, for the pur-
por-e of obtaining ottice. that
the whole hi.-tory of jiolitical
tergiversation could fnrni>h."
Stung to the quick by this
accu>atioii of ignoble trimming
— an accusation which was
the more unbearable UTHUM-
it was so entirely unjust —
Canning, in a white heat of
anger, jumped to his feet and
exclaimed, "That is false."
The direct lie. given in any
quarter in the House of
Commons, is a startling t hing :
but when it comes from one
of the highest .Ministers of
the Crown it is a grave
breach of decorum indeed. A
deep hush fell upon the
House. At length the Speaker.
slowly ri.-ing, said in a low
tone he hoped the right
honourable Secretary would
retract the expression he had
used. Such language, he said,
vva- a complete violation of
the coatome and orders of the
House, and he regretted that,
even in haste, it should have
. tlit painting by yir Tlioaua Laicrtnee in t*< Kational Pvrtnut OaUery.
TUB VAB4CIH OF LONDONDKRItY, HKTTKIl KNOWN AS LORD CASTLEEEAOH, beell 0860. I allll lllg e.\ pri»eil
AtoD. tlm.» bitUrrirtJof CMinlng, with «hom h« fonght* duel on Pulney llmth. big Mirr.ivv at having infringed
Memories of St. Stephen's — The Nineteenth Century 207
THE HOUSE OP LORDS AS FITTED UP IS 1835 AFTER THE HOUSE OP COMMONS AS FITTED UP IN 1835 AFTEK
THE FIRE. THE FIRE.
the decencies of debate, but said that no consideration on earth should induce him to retract the
sentiment. A prolonged and animated discussion ensued, leading to a motion that both Canning
and Brougham should be committed to the custody of the Sergeant-at-Arms. Brougham strongly
opposed this, maintaining that he had committed no offence, and that to take such a step as
that proposed would be a flagrant violation of the principles of justice. He found supporters
for his view in various parts of the House, and Canning also had his champions. At length
a happy way out of the impasse was found by the withdrawal of the motion, and by mutual
explanations and a promise on the part of both statesmen "to think no more of it."
It is pleasant to turn from this undignified squabble, which reflected so little credit on either
of the principal j«irties to it, to an episode some three years later in which Canning displayed
all his finest qualities as a statesman and an orator. The occasion was a debate on the
threatened aggression of Spain upon Portugal. In his capacity of Foreign Secretary Canning
was called upon to elucidate the Ministerial policy. He did so in a speech which lives amongst
the masterpieces of Parliamentary oratory. Time lias divested the subject-matter of this
splendid pronouncement of much of its interest for modern readers, but its singular grace of
style, nobility of sentiment, and clearness of thought and expression give it still a charm for
all who appreciate eloquence. One passage in the speech has become classic. It is that in
which Canning, with the far-sightedness which was the chief characteristic of his direction of
foreign policy, anticipated the rise of the new great Power in the West. " If France," he
said, "occupied Spain, was it necessary, in order to avoid the consequences of that occupation,
that we should blockade Cadiz ? No. I looked another way ; I sought materials of compen-
sation in another hemisphere. Contemplating Spain, such as our ancestors had known her, I
resolved that if France had Spain, it should not be 'Spain with the Indies.' I called the
New World into existence to redress the balance of the Old."
208
Parliament Past and Present
A tremendous impre-sion was made
by tliis s|>eech, and (lie effect wa-
heighte 1 I iv an i>i|iially [Miweilul second
speech which Canning delivered tin- same
c\ filing in reply to some criticisms
Which Were passed I1]H)I1 till' <io\ernllient
policy. One1 \vlio \va- present de-crilies
the seiixitions which wen- produced by
this remarkable display of oraturv. •• It
\\a- an e|xich." In' -ay-, "in a man's life
to have heard him. . . . Ilea\en-l He
surpassed even himself. The chaste
elegance, the graceful simplicity, the
harmonious tones of his opening speech,
and the sublime energy of his replv.
will haunt me to my grave. What a
hurst of feeling when he sjioke of the
1'ort uguese Charter ! I shall never for.
the deep earnestness of his tone and
the blaze of glory that seemed to light
up his features. lie was equally grind
when in his reply lie said: -I do nol
believe that tlii'i-e is that Spain of which
our ancestors were so justly jealous, that
Spain upon whose territories it proudly
boasted that the sun never set.' Hut
when, in the style and manner of
Chat ham. he said: 'I looked to Spain
with the Indies. I called a New World into
existence to redress the balance of tin-
Old.' the effect was actually terrific. It
was as if every man in the House had
been electrified. Tierney. who before-
that was shifting in his seat, and taking
off his hat and putting it on again.
taking large and frequent pinches of snuff, and turning from side to side till, I suppose, he
wore hi- breeches through, seemed petrified, and sat fixed and staring with hi- mouth wide
ojM-n for half a minute. Mr. Canning seemed actually to have increased in stature, his attitude
was so majestic. I remarked his flourishes were made with the left arm. The effect was new
and l>eautiful ; his chest heaved and expanded, his nostril dilated, a noble pride -lightly curled
his lip, and age and sickness were dissolved and forgotten in the ardour of youthful genius.
All the while serenity sat on his brow, that jiointed to deeds of glory." .Making every allowance
for the natural extravagance of an ardent admirer of the state-man, this vivid description
clearly shows that the oratory had an extraordinary effect on those who heard it. As much,
indeed, is proved by the more prosaic records of Hansard, which show that I'rougham, none too
friendly a critic, s]ioke of Canning having displayed "a degree of fervour unprecedented in
effect, even U-yonil the right honourable gentleman's former most eloquent orations."
Canning's i>osition in the House now became one of commanding influence, and when in
April. 1827. the Earl of Livcqiool resigned, it was the most natural thing for the King to send
for him to form a (ioveinmcnt. Though Wellington. IVel. and Kldon refused to join him. he
was able to get together a fairly strong combination, in which Lord I'almerston figured as
1 " Diary of an M.P."
from on t*gm*i»f itfter (A< pictun t'» F. Cruicttliant.
VI SCI if NT I-AI.MKKSTON.
Ai * iUUunan, noted for bU firm and moluto foreign jioliqr.
from an enyravinff aj'Ur the portrait by Sir Thomas Lawrence, P.R.A,
SIR EGBERT PEEL.
An early portrait of the distinguished statesman who, during an active political career of forty years, was closely associated with the passing of
several great measures, notably the Bill for the Repeal of the Corn Laws.
209 27
210
Parliament Past and Present
Foreign Secretary. But IIP did not live long to enjoy
l.i« triumph. S-ized with illness in the middle <>f
July, In- retired to the l>uke of Devon-hire's villa
nt ChNwick to reciijMTnlp, and expired ther i
August Gth in the same room in which Fox had
breathed Iiis lu>t. He found a lust resting-place in
W«hnin«ter Abbey, at the foot of the grave of 1'jtt.
to whom he owed so much in life.
Amongst the great orators whom St. Stephen'*
Chapel knew, there are few who take a higher place
than (.'aiming. Endowed with a fine proencc. great
intellectual attainment*, and a voice whose melli-
Huous tunes needed only to be heard to charm.
he dominated the popular assembly with rare
jiower. When nt his best, none of his cunt em
)H>raries could approach him in eloquence and easy
flow of language. The sentences welled forth in a
bright, sparkling stream, arresting attention by their
purity and fascinating beauty. He was gifted with
a pleasing wit, which In- exerci.-ed with telling effect
when the occasion called for the light treatment of
a subject. A more attractive personality altogether
never appeared in English public life.
LORD 1 I.I.',-,,
The well-known Lord Chancellor, in hii coronation robe, and attended bj hb page.
from ll,t portrait by Sir Thouuu laiemce, PJl.A.
Till: DUKE OF WKM.lXCTiiX.
Who on two succMaive oocaalona— in 1828am! again in 1834-
fillod the office of Premier.
This survey of the
peri(*l during which
< 'aiming swayed tin-
House of Commons
would not be adequate
without some further
reference to Broug-
ham, his great political
rival and antagonist.
Like Canning, lining
ham entered Parlia-
ment through aristo-
cratic patronage.
His sponsor was the
Duke of Bedford, \vlio.
struck with his talents.
offered him a seat for
his Iwrough of Camel-
ford. Entering the
House of Commons
in the year 1810. tin-
young politician, after
a somewhat disap-
pointing first appear-
ance, pushed his wav
to the front by the
force of a vigorous in-
tellect operat ing under
conditions favourable
Memories of St. Stephen's — The Nineteenth Century 211
to the display of ability. Industry and
perseverance then, as subsequently, were
the distinguishing traits of his character.
Scarcely a night passed without his making
a contribution to the debate. Sometimes
he missed his mark, as the ever inde-
fatigable orator is likely to do ; but he
more often succeeded in winning that
kind of fame which is the meed of
the Parliamentarian who can without
preparation intervene effectively in the
ordinary discussions of the House. In
this way stamping his individuality upon
the popular chamber, he came in a few
years to be regarded as a man to whom
great things were possible.
Brougham found his great oppor-
tunity in the troubles of Queen Caroline.
That flightiest find indiscreetest of Prin-
cesses early enlisted the services of the
brilliant young lawyer-politician as her
attorney-general, and in this capacity
he was called upon to undertake her
defence when, on her return to England
in 1820, on the accession of George IV..
she was confronted with the gravest of
accusations that can be brought against
a Wife. Brougham threw himself With
characteristic ardour and energy into the
defence. With remarkable ability he championed the Queen's interests in the exciting dis-
cus-ions which accompanied her appearance in London, and when, after abortive attempts to
patch up some understanding, Lord Liverpool's Government introduced in the House of Lords
the famous Bill of Pains and Penalties, depriving the Queen of her Royal state and annulling
her marriage, he assumed the duties of chief advocate with the determination to make the
most of the opportunities which the case afforded for forensic display.
At this time of day it is difficult to realise the tremendous excitement which the proceedings
against the unfortunate Queen aroused throughout the country. The City exuberantly espoused
her cause, as did many popular bodies throughout the country. Vast, cheering crowds attended
her public appearances, and the streets about her residence were choked during the greater
part of the twenty-four hours bv her supporters. So menacing was the aspect of affairs as
the day of the opening of the trial approached, that troops from all parts of the country were
drafted to the metropolis and its vicinity. At the Houses of Parliament extraordinary precautions
were taken against a popular outbreak. A gunboat was moored in the river opposite to the
House in the Cotton Green, in which the witnesses in the trial were lodged, and detachments
of soldiers were posted in rooms and lobbies around the Peers' chamber. The Queen's
passage through the streets from St. James's Square, where she was temporarily residing, to the
Palace of Westminster was a triumphal progress. The popular fervour approached delirium.
At imminent risk of their lives, women and children clung to the wheels of her carriage. The
air was rent with shouts of mingled indignation and encouragement. On all hands there were
demonstrations of sympathy and respect. Arriving at the House of Lords the Queen, with erect
mien and radiant countenance, was handed from her carriage by the Usher of Black Rod, Sir
Thomas Tyrrwhytt. "Well, Sir Thomas," she said lightly, "here I am again, and here I shall
/Vow a 2*aintiiif/ by G'twcye HtcUntuiia,
WILLIAM WILBERFORCE,
Philanthropist and politician, who took a leading part in the movement for the
abolition of slavery.
212
Parliament Past and Present
remain until the day of judgment." In the
Peers' clmmlx-r itself she was received with
«-very mark of ivapect. The Peers all ro-e mi
her entrance, and remained standing until
she ha<l taken her seat on tlu* chair of state.
Hut that the feeling against her was very
strong was shown early in tin- proceedings
l»y the vote given ujx>n a motion by the
Duke of I/einster for the n'scinding of the
order for the second reading. For this motion
only 41 j>eers ventured to vote, while there
were no fewer than 206 against it. Several
days were occupied in hearing the opening
statement for the prosecution and the
evidence of the witnesses — chiefly Italian
servants employed by the Queen during her
May in Italy. One dramatic incident marked
these earlier proceedings. When Theodore
Majocchi, on whose testimony the King's
counsel chiefly relied to establish the Queen's
guilt, stepped into the witness box, her
Majesty cast on him a look of strong
reproach, and muttering a poignant cry,
darted out of the chamber; for the most
jiart, however, the trial took a normal course.
In o]>ening the Queen's case Brougham
LORD ERSKINK,
Who wu Lord Chancellor In "The Ministry of All the TalenU."
Waytman dtl.
QUEEN CAROM NK.
From a portrait taken about the time of her trial.
made a great speech, which lasted two days.
It was a masterly analysis of the whole of
the evidence, with a presentation of the
Queen's case which wanted nothing in elo-
quence, argumentative force, or thoroughness.
The impression it made on the Peers was
very great, and in the country it helped to
elevate the Queen to a yet higher pedestal
of popularity. The end of the protracted
business did not come until November. On
the 6th of that month a division was taken
on the question of the second reading of
the bill, with the result that a majority of
twenty-eight only was registered in its favour.
On the third reading, which was called on
November 10th, this majority was further
reduced to nine. Deeming that discretion
was the better part of valour, Lord I,iver]«>ol
immediately announced the intention of the
Government to abandon the measure. This
declaration elicited froni the venerable I/,r.l
Krskine an affecting speech, in which he
spoke of his strength being "renovated and
repaired" by the end of that "horrid
and portentous excrescence of a new law,
213
214
Parliament Past and Present
n-tnwppctive, iniquitous and oppn—i\e." This feeling was re-echoed in the country, where
the moat unrestrained iejoicim;« wre indulged in at. tin- practical acquittal of the (Jueen.
An a result of the trial. Brougham's portion in Parliament and in tin- country was
enormously strengthened. When Canning became Premier, he s-howed hi- appreciation of his
old rival')* talents by ottering him the i>ost of Chief Baron of the Kxeheiiner. Brougham.
however, was not at all anxious to exchange his ]>olitical position even for so exalted an otli.-c.
He declined the oiler, urging as a reason that it would prevent his sitting in Parliament.
"True," observed Canning, "hut you will then lie only one stage from the Woolsack." -V.
i. -plied Hroiiglmm. "but the horses will l>e oft'." In the Hou-e of Common- Brougham
remained fora gixnl many years longer, rising steadily higher in ]«opular estimation. His
talent for oratorv found several notahle occasions for display during this period. Ainong.-t his
most remarkalile efforts was a speech delivered on law reform in February. 1828. For >ix
hours the onitor held the attention of the House while lie poured forth a ma-s of erudition
clothed in the mo-t felicitous language. It was said afterwards by a writer in the (Jm ni<-,-l</
llrrlrn' that, "directly or indirectly, it has probably led to a greater numlier of important and
It-iH-ticial re>ults than any other sjiccch. ancient or modern.'' lint if Lord Brougham could be
M-rious and .-tate~manlike. he could also on occasion play the part of the swashbuckler.
\Ve have already seen how he demeaned himself in the episode with Canning. A ><>ni.--
what similar incident occurred in 1830, when on very small provocation Brougham in the
si\age>t manner attacked the Wellington Ministry. Concluding a long tirade, lie stretched
out his long thin arm and. jtointing in the direction of the Treasury Bench, said: "I
accuse you. I accuse his flatterers — those mean, fawning ^trashes — Here Sir U.ihert
Peel ror-c and demanded to know if Brougham included him in the category of "those
fawning jwrasites." Brougham, thus challenged, made a grudging apology, and so the incident
terminated.
1 )espit e his faults of temper, Brougham
was immensely popular, and had a hold
on the country the like of which was
possessed by none of his contemporaries.
save Canning. It was to this fact. <|iiite
as much as to his great legal abilities.
that he owed his elevation to the Lord
Chancellorship. Brougham himself tells
the story in his "Life and Times." He
mentions that he was offered the
Attorney-Generalship, and that he rei'u-e.l
the post, expressing a willingness to
take the Mastership of the Kolls. which
then could conjointly be held in the
House of Commons. To this Ixith the
King and the Ministers objected. The
King, however, asked if the (ireat Seal
had been offered to him. and on I.«nl
(irey (the Premier) replying that it had
not, because he anticipated an objection
from his Majesty, the King intimated
that there was no one he would rather
have for his Chancellor. Thereupon tin-
offer of the Woolsack was made and
accepted. I'rongham says that the King
once or twici;. afterwards "alluded to this
when in particularly good humour, and
*t**j-, '•./;..!.
KAIlI. <!KKY,
onlDMit Whig •UIMOUII. who, M TrwiiUr, lntro,lo«d the flnt Inform Bill.
Memories of St. Stephen's — The Nineteenth Century 215
QUEEN CAROLINE KETURMXG FROM THE HOUSE OP LORDS AFTER HER TRIAL,
Amid the acclamations of crowds of admirers.
called me his Chancellor as named by himself, and not by my colleagues." " In fact," adds
Brougham, "I more than suspect that the Tories, on going out, warned him not to leave me
in the Commons, member for Yorkshire, chief of the Popular party, and irremovable Master
of the Rolls."
The final years of this story of St. Stephen's Chapel will ever be memorable for the
stormy debates and incidents which took place there on the question of Reform. At the
time the popular excitement rose to fever heat. The whole country hung on the words
spoken at Westminster. It was universally felt that upon the issue of the great crisis depended
the prosperity, and not improbably also the peace, of the country. There is no call here to
trace in detail the history of the great movement which culminated in the peaceful revolution
of 1832. But as final reminiscences of St. Stephen's Chapel, we may appropriately refer to
some of the more striking episodes which marked the Parliamentary debates on the subject.
The passing of the second reading of the first bill on March 21st, 1831, was one of the
great landmarks in the struggle. Macaulay's pen has left us a picture of the House on the
eventful evening which ranks amongst the most vivid descriptions we have of historic events
in Parliament. " Such a scene as the division of last Tuesday," says the historian, in a
letter to his friend Ellis on March 30th, " I never saw, and never expect to see again. If
I should live fifty years, the impression will be as fresh and sharp in my mind as if it had
just taken place. It was like seeing Caesar stabbed in the Senate House, or seeing Oliver
taking the mace from the table; a sight to be seen only once and never to be forgotten.
The crowd overflowed the House in every part. When the strangers were cleared out
and the doors were locked, we had 608 members present — more by fifty-five than ever were
216
Parliament Past and Present
in a division before.
Tin- ayes and the iioes
were like two volle\s
of cannon from opposite
sides of a field of butt If.
When tlif Op]>osition
wf nt out into the Lobby,
an operation whicli took
up twfiity minute- or
more, we spread our-
selves o\er tin- lifiiclifs
on both sides of the
House; for there were
many of us who wen-
not able to find a seat
during tin- evening.
•• \Vlien the dour-
were shut, we began to
speculate on our mmilx'i>.
K\eryl>otly was de-]»>nd-
ing. '\Ve have lost it.
We are only 280 at most.
I do not think we are
250. They are 300.
Alderman Thompson has
counted them. He -ay-
they are 299.' This
was the talk on our
benches. ... I had no
hope, however, of 300.
As the tellers passed
along our lowest row on
the left-hand side the
interest was insupportable
—291, 292— we were all standing up and stretching forward, telling with the tellers. At 300
there was a short cry of joy, at 302 another, suppressed, however, in a moment, for we
did not know what the hostile force might be. We knew, however, that we could not be
severely beaten.
"The doors were thrown open, and in they came. Each as he entered brought some
different report of their numbers. . . . We were all breathless when Charles Wood, who
stood near the door, jumped on a bench and cried out, 'They are only 301.' We set up a
shout that you might have heard to Charing Cross, waving our hats, stamping on the floor,
and chipping our hands. The tellers scarcely got through the crowd, for the House was
thronged up to the table, and all the floor was fluctuating with heads like the pit of a
theatre. Hut you might have heard a pin drop as Duncannon read the nuinln-rs. Then
again the shouts broke out, and many of us shed tears. I could scarcely refrain. And tin-
jaw of 1'eel fell; and the face of Twiss was as the face of a damned soul; and Herries looked
like Judas taking his necktie off for the last operation. We shook hands and clapped each
other on the back, and went out laughing, crying, and hu/.zaing into the Lobby. And no
sooner were the doors opened than another shout answered that within the House. All the
passages and stairs into the waiting-rooms were thronged by people who had waited till four
o'clock in the morning to know the issue. We passed through a narrow lane between two
'•THE HOUSE WOT KEEPS BAD HOURS.
Dedimttd irilh all due rttpect to Sir Charltt It'eatheratl."
A caricature by Doyle illustrative of an inveterate bad habit of the Hotue, and commemorating an
occuion ui«m which a sitting lasted from four o'clock in the afternoon until seven o'clock the following
morointf.
From a draicing by A. D. McC&rtniclc.
THK CAItRYING OF THE SECOND BEADING OF THE FIBST REFORM BILL IX THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.
Bj a majority of one in a House of 608 members, the measure passed its second reading on March 21st, 18SI, amid a scene of intense excitement.
217 28
218
Parliament Past and Present
"BRINGING UP oril III 1. 1,."
A contemporary caricature by a well-known hand representing Lord Althorp, the Chancellor of the Kicheqncr in EarlGrey'a Adini
handing over to the Lord Chancellor (Lord Brougham) in the House of Lord* the second Reform Hill. Most of the leading members of the
Reform party In the Home of Commons are represented in the picture.
thick masses of them; and all the way down they were shouting and waving their hats, till
we got into the open air. I railed a cabriolet, and the first thing the driver asked was. -Is
the bill carried?' • Yes. by one.' 'Thank God for it, sir!' And away I rode to Gra\'- Inn.
And so ended a scene which will probably never be equalled till the reformed Parliament
wants reform."
The defeat of the .Ministry on April 18th on an important amendment in Committee, the
abandonment of the Bill, and the infliction of a second defeat lour day,- later on a question
of adjournment, led up to a demand for a dissolution, only reluctantly conceded by the Kin;;.
It \va> under extraordinary circumstances that the final act was taken, "The M-enes which
occurred in the two Houses of Parliament," >ays Karl Russell, "so far as I was a witne->
to them, were -.jugular and unprecedented, Before the King arrived the HOUM- of Conimon>
was assembled, and Sir Robert Peel and Sir l-Yancj> Burdett rose at the same time to addre->
the House. Lord Althorp, amid the confusion and clamour of the contending parties, following
the precedent of Mr. Fox. moved that Sir 1'Yancis I'urdett be now heard. Sir Robert Peel, on
the other hand, imitating a precedent of Lord North, said, 'And I rise to speak to the
motion.' But instead of saying a few words, as Lord North had done, to put an end to all
further debate. Sir Hubert Peel quite lost his temper, and in tones of the most violent
indignation attacked the impending dissolution. As he went on, the Tower LMUI- began to
fire, to announce the King's anival, and as each discharge was heard, a loud cheer from the
Government side interrupted Sir Hubert Peel's declamation. Sir Henry llardinge was heard
to exclaim, 'The ne\t time those guns are fired they will be shotted!' Presently we were
all summoned to the House of Ixmls, where the King's presence had put a stop to a violent
and unseemly discussion. The King, in his speech, announced the dissolution, and retired to
unrobe. The scene that followed was one of great excitement and confusion."
THE REFORM BILL OP 1832 RECEIVING THE ROYAL ASSENT IX THE HOUSE OP LORDS.
With this official act terminated one of the most momentous crises in the history of the country.
219
220
Parliament Past and Present
Returning to the House of Commons on June
14th enormously strengthened, the Reform jwirty
immediately proceeded to introduce a second Reform
Hill. The second reading was carried early in
July by a majority of 136, and after protracted
debates in Commit tee. the measure passed its final
stage on Septi-mluT 21st. Its subsequent rejection
in the House of Lords by a majority of 41 greatly
exasjK-mted the country. There was rioting at
many centres, and the position of affairs became so
serious that the Government deemed it advisable
to take measures for the suppression of the political
organisations. .Meanwhile a third bill was draft. -.1.
and this was introduced in the House of Commons
on December 12th by Lord John Russell. A
majority of 102 was cast for the measure on the
second reading, and on March 19th it ]>assed its
final stage by a majority of 116. Before the last
division was taken, Lord John Russell made an
impressive speech. In this reference was made to
the critical character of the times, and the op-
ponents of reform were told that the loss of the
measure must result in a bloody conflict, involving
the destruction of the British Constitution. The
warning was not lost upon the House of Lords.
After a debate extending over several nights, they
on April 14th passed the second reading by a
majority of nine. But the spirit of hostility to
the legislation was too strong to allow the bill to get through without serious curtailment of
its provisions. A vital amendment carried against Ministers precipitated a crisis. For a time
the issues of civil war hung in the balance. At length, after Ministers had resigned and
l«-en recalled, the King gave written permission for the creation of a sufficient number of
peers, if necessary, to force the bill through unemasculated. This, accompanied by a written
ap|N-al to the opj losing peers by the King, was decisive. The measure passed its last stage
on July 4th by a majority of 84, in a House of no more than 128 members.
The days of the old unreformed Parliament were now numbered. It faded into history,
lining liehind it. with the recollection of some failings, many great and inspiring memories,
and a record which, on the whole, is a source of pride to every true patriot. The new order
of Parliament-men were not destined to sit long in the seats of the mighty. Less than two
\ear.- after the reformed Parliament held its first sitting St. Stephen's Chapel was involved in
the general ruin worked by the conflagration of October 16th, 1834.
UEORGE TROUT,
A well-known nirMcnger "' the lIonM of Cumiroai of the
ml? ]*rt of the lut century.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE PRESS GALLERY.
IT is difficult to imagine the House of Commons at the present time without its Press
Gallery. A corporation numbering considerably over two hundred members, possessing an
elaborate organisation, and having at its disposal a commodious suite of dining, smoking,
and writing rooms, it fills a very important place indeed in the legislative household. Yet,
singular as it may seem, the institution, measured by the standard of Parliamentary time,
is quite a modern one, dating very little farther back than the commencement of the last
reign. There were Parliamentary reporters before that time, it is true ; but they were
tolerated rather than recognised, and sometimes, as we shall have occasion to show, the
toleration took a form scarcely to be distinguished from positive prohibition.
Dr. Johnson has usually been regarded as the Father of Parliamentary reporters of the
professional class ; but the honour of first systematically recording debates in the House belongs
to Sir Symonds D'Ewes, a sturdy old Parliamentarian who flourished in Elizabethan times.
This worthy, with an industry which does him infinite credit, set himself to note down
regularly the speeches made by his brother members. Amid many discouragements the
worthy knight performed his self-allotted task for several years, and the fruits of his labour
have come down to us in several portly tomes. Though these records will not compare
with our modern Hansard's in fulness and accuracy, they yet give a most vivid account
of Parliamentary doings in those remote times, the pages enshrining scraps of elegance
and personal details which are of the utmost value to the historical student.
D'Ewes had several successors in this role of unofficial Parliamentary reporter. Burton, whose
Diary is amongst the classics
of political literature, was
of these. With an
one
industry not inferior to that
of his predecessor in the
note-taking line, he recorded
the doings of the Common-
wealth Parliaments, thus
supplying to posterity an
authentic account of perhaps
the most interesting period
in the life of Parliament.
His reporting exercises were
not free from embarrassment,
and even a certain amount
of personal risk. At that
time note-taking was
regarded as a sin of a heinous
kind, and it had been at-
tended in the past in some
HEAD OF A NEWSPAPER OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.
221
222
Parliament Past and Present
with very heavy jienalties.1 Burton, therefore, liad to pick his way warily— now conceal-
ing his notes when a suspicious member was near; now allowing his pencil to remain idle
throughout an nil in- Mtting. for fear of being called to account by those who frowned mi
t:..- |.racti,. •. Hi- wa« extremely \ciitiirc-ome once or twice, as the entries in his Diary show;
luit. fortunately for hist. TV. he avoided the din-, t ,,-ii-iire of the House.
Before Burton had become immersed in his self-ini]x»ed re|>ortorial <luties, the HOIIM- had
li-en ili-tnrlx-il bv the action of irresjwnsilile outsiders in giving {iiililicity to debates. Ilinrnals
made their appearance with reports for the most part oompocmded of materials furnished by
memlH-rs. The innovation was too flagrant an infraction of the practice of Parliament to be
allowed to escape notice. On July 13th, 1G41, a formal reflation was passed direct ing
"that no member of this House shall either give a copy or publish in print anything that
he >hall sjx-ak here without leave of the House.'1 This prohibition produced little n-Mih : -.
on .March 22nd in the ensuing year a more drastic resolution was framed, proclaiming that
"whatsoever person shall print any Act or passages of this House, under the name of Itinrnnl.
or otherwise, without the particular licence of this House, shall be reputed a high contemner
and breaker of the privilege of Parliament, and be punished according!}'." No further action
of a specific kind apj>ears to have been necessary at that period. But before the seventeenth
century closed the question cropped up again, consequent ui>on the practice of "news-
writers"' including amongst their tit-bits of gossip references to the proceedings of the House.
Strongly impressed with the importance of securing its doings from this vulgar publicity, the
House on February llth, 1695, ordered "that no news-writers do in their letters or other papers
that they disperse, presume to intermeddle with the debates or any other proceed in L
this House." On two subsequent occasions — on January 18th, 1697, and January 3rd, 17U3 —
the order was revived, and on January 2oth of
the latter year the proceedings of Committees
of the House were included in the general ban.
Still the newspaper men were not intimidated.
The obnoxious references to the proceeding:-
continued to be made in news-letters despatched
from London. At length the House of Com i s
determined to make an example of these high
contemners and breakers of Parliamentary
privileges. In 1727 Edward Cave and Robert
Kaikes were, by order of the House, committed
to prison for publishing re]>orts in the Gloucester
Journal, and were kept in custody for several
days, only being released c-vfter expressing
contrition for their offence and paying heavy
fines.
I'p to this | ,eriod the publication of reports
had been carried out in a very casual way.
Soon a more daring and sustained attack wa» to
be made on the policy of reticence. A clear-
headed businei-s man. full of ideas, and perhaps
encouraged rather than otherwise by his contest
with the HOIIM' in 1727, Cave in 1732 formed
the resolution to publish in connection with the
Gentleman's Magazine, which he had ju-t
started, a regular account of the doings of
1 OUIfield relates that in the reign of Henry VII. a member was committed to the Tnwer for acquainting the
King with the debates in Parliament, and both he and his posterity were debarred by an Act from ever sitting
or serving In Parliament. In a similar case which occurred in Elizabeth's time the offender was committed to the
Tower for six months, fined £500, and expelled the House.
CAVE,
The fuiiinu boolueller, who wu one of the ftnt to «y«temnt ically )nil>li>h
J'arliainenUrjr debate*.
The Press Gallery
223
Parliament. His practice was to attend
the debates with one or two friends, take
a few sly notes, and afterwards repair to
some neighbouring coffee-house or tavern
and put on paper the impressions gained.
These rude notes were subsequently turned
over to a literary hack for a final polish-
ing preparatory to publication. Regarded
as reports, the productions were quite
beneath contempt, but they were
sufficiently near the mark to arouse the
irritable susceptibilities of Parliament.
In the session of 1737 serious notice was
taken of the breach of privilege involved.
The speeches made on the debate which
marked the occasion read curiously in
these days. Sir William Yonge implored
the House to suppress the practice of
reporting the debates ; " otherwise," he
said, " you will have the speeches of the
House every day 'printed even during
your session, and we shall be looked upon
as the most contemptible assembly on the
face of the earth." Pulteney urged " that
to print speeches, even if they should not
be misrepresented, was making the speakers
accountable without doors for what they
said within." Walpole took a higher and
what now seems a more common-sense view
of the matter. " You have, with great
justice," he said, " punished some persons
for forging the names of gentlemen on the
backs of letters; but the abuse now complained of is, I conceive, a forgery of a worse kind,
for it tends to misrepresent the sense of Parliament and impose upon the understanding of the
whole nation. It is but a petty damage that can arise from a forged frank when compared
with the infinite mischief that may be derived from this practice. I have read some debates
of this House, sir, in which I have been made to speak the very reverse of what I meant.
I have read others wherein all the wit, learning, and argument have been thrown into one side,
Mini, on the other, nothing but what was low, mean, and ridiculous."
These expressions of opinion undoubtedly voiced the general sentiment of the House,
for without a single dissentient it adopted a resolution affirming it to be " a high indignity to,
and a notorious breach of privilege of, this House " to publish reports of its proceedings, not
only during the sittings of the House, but in the recess. Such a demonstration of Parliamentary
feeling was not to be lightly disregarded, so Cave and his rival on the London Magazine,
who had imitated his scheme of reports, resorted to the expedient of investing the debates
with an ostensibly fictitious character. The Gentleman's Magazine published the reports as per-
taining to the Senate of Lilliput, and the London Magazine gave a journal of the proceedings
in a political club, conferring Koman names upon the speakers. This was a thin enough
disguise, but it served its purpose. Interest in the reports rather increased than diminished
after the change — so much so, indeed, that in 1740, Cave, who had hitherto mainly relied
upon the services of William Guthrie, a well-known writer of that period, was induced to
seek Johnson's aid to give a finer literary flavour to the compilation. Johnson, who
4fte? the painting ly Sir Jothua Knjnolds, P.R.A.
DR. JOHNSON,
The Father of professional Parliamentary reporters.
224
Parliament Past and Present
then struggling to win
a position in the world,
readily undertook the t;i>k,
and .-oon remarkable evidences
of his skill were seen in the
pages of the Gentleman's.
Ne\er In-fore iii the history
of English journalism had
such speeches been published.
Perfect in literary form, and
adorned with many classical
Braces, they conveyed the
impression that the Legisla-
ture was an assemblage, not
of country squires, but of
learned professors. Nor were
they wanting in robnMer
qualities. A fervent Toryism
pervaded the effusions. As
Johnson himself put it in
describing his essays at report-
ing, he " let the Whig dogs
have it." It is to be feared
that the sentiments set forth
in very few cases resembled
the expressed views of the
ostensible utterers. Boswell,
in fact, goes further, and
declares that they did not in
all cases even fit the charac-
ters of the men to whom they
were attributed. However this
may be, it is unquestionable
that the old Doctor in his later years was not at all proud of his achievements in this direction.
HI- told his faithful henchman on one occasion that as soon as he found that the speeches were
thought genuine, he determined that he would write no more of them, "for he would not be
accessory to the propagation of falsehood." Again, a short time before his death he expressed
to Boswell his regret "for having been the author of fictions which had passed for realities."
While it is thus pretty clear that Johnson was in no proper sense of the term a
Parliamentary reporter, there is little doubt that his work in the Gentleman's May<r.;,,i>
had a jiowerful influence in securing the breaking down of the absurd custom of regarding
everything that JMISMM! in the Jlou-e as inviolably secret. When he dropped out of tin-
business his place was taken by a Dr. Gordon, who greatly improved upon the old system, and
for the fir>( time, perhaps, gave the public a really accurate outline of the debate. His
i-nterpri-e and that of others brought the usual censure. In 1753 a resolution couched in the
familiar language was juiced warning those concerned of the terrible consequences that might
follow the publication of the proceedings of the House, even in the form of minutes or some
.-iich ^|H-cioii> di>L,rui>e. As well might the indignant 1'arliament-men have attempted to stop
(lie incoming tide. For good or for evil the Press had secured a lodgment in the chamber,
and it was ne\i-r asjain to be ousted from it. A last vigorous effort, however, was made to
assert the right of Parliament to control the publication of its debates. This was on the
famous occasion in 1771 when the House fought the issue out with the Corporation of the
Frout a jMiiiiti.t'i by Tftoittat Jk'tf-1, in tltt Siittviiul I'oi litttt O'tiU'
« II.I.I \M WOODFAI.I.,
(" Memory Woodfill "), whuee utonUliing powen of re|urting qwechai without taking not« won
for him a great reputation in Jiolitical circlet nt the euil of the eighteenth century.
The Press Gallery
225
City of London. The circumstances of that memorable struggle need not be related at length
here. Suffice it to say that after the House's decrees against the offending printers had been
contemptuously set at naught, and it had retaliated on the insult offered to it in the
imprisonment of one of its officers by committing the Lord Mayor (Crosby) and one of the
Aldermen (Oliver) to the Tower, the position of affairs as regards the publication of debates
remained exactly where it was before the contest was entered upon. Representatives of the
newspapers continued to resort to the public galleries ; ^4fceir reports, more or less full and accurate,
regularly appeared. At the beginning of the session of 1778 a member (Colonel Luttrell),
incensed by a distortion of his views by one of the "news-writers," threatened as a protection
against such indignities to move the strict enforcement of the standing order relative to the
exclusion of strangers. But beyond eliciting a strong expression of opinion from Fox in favour
of full and free publication, the intervention of the gallant legislator came to naught.
It was at about this period that the reporting element in the House of Commons was
strengthened by the adhesion of William Woodfall — next to Johnson, perhaps the most
remarkable man whose name figures in the annals of Parliamentary reporting. Woodfall was
a man of fine literary taste and excellent judgment. As a dramatic critic he enjoyed a
reputation second to that of hardly any of his contemporaries. But what gave him his greatest
fame was his marvellous memory. So extraordinarily retentive was his mind that after hearing
a speech he could without an apparent effort write it out almost word for word, even days
after it had been delivered. According to a colleague (Mr. Taylor, of the Sun), his practice
during a debate was to close his eves and lean with both hands upon a stick. Thus posed, he
would remain for long periods, seldom looking up excepting to get the name of a new member
with whom he was not acquainted. Powers so remarkable were calculated to conciliate prejudices,
and it is not surprising that Woodfall enjoyed amongst members a great popularity. To his
influence and example, possibly as much as to the development of the power of the Press, was
it due that before the century had closed there were in regular attendance at the House
a considerable contingent of reporters taking
notes of debates, not only without disguise,
but with a modified degree of approval. To
Perry, the proprietor of the Morning
Chronicle, is credited the introduction of
t IK- system of '• turns,"' by which each reporter
lias a specified time for taking notes and
is then relieved It is stated that Lord
Chancellor Campbell, when making his way
at the liar, was a member of Perry's corps.
Hut he was in mortal dread lest his associ-
ation with the reporters should be discovered.
Since then the tie between the Gallery and
the l?ar has been strengthened by a connection
which has embraced some of the most famous
men of the legal profession.
In the earliest days of regular Parlia-
mentary reporting no special arrangement
was made for the convenience of the Press
visitors. They took their chance with other
strangers, and if they failed to get a seat,
it was so much the worse for them and for
the papers they represented. Owing, it may
be, to representation* in high quarters, or
more likely to potent arguments of a
different kind, a regular system was
DANIEL OCONNELL,
("The Liberator*), whose quarrel with the reporters supplies one of the
most amusing episodes in the history of Parliamentary reporting.
29
226
Parliament Past and Present
eventually introduced of reserving for the representatives of accredited organs the back sent of
the public gallery. At that time, and indeed until the building of the new Mouses of 1'arlia-
inent provided an o| ten ing for the introduction of a more dignified system, it was tin' custom
of the doorkeepers to levy a toll of 2*. 6</. on each visitor who \\M- not armed with a member'-
order and wished to he present at the debates. The re|M>rters were exempt from this nightlv
impost, but an a set-off their proprietors ]>aid at the beginning of every session .1 lee of three
guineas for each of their representatives.1 This handsome douceur secured for the reporter
very little beyond hare sitting accommodation in the gallery. There was a small room on the
left-hand side of the gallery immediately above the Ixthhy. where he was permitted to hang
his hat and coat when going on duty and to await his call during a debate. l?nt this was
the limit of the Legialatore'a genero»itv to
the Press. The rejiorfer usually found it
necessjiry to go to his office to transcribe
his notes, and consequently his "turn," or
period of note-taking, was what would now
be considered a very long one. extending
ordinarily to three-quarters of an hour.
It was not merely in its omission t<>
provide the members of the Press with
reasonable facilities for carrying out their
duties that the Legislature showed that it
failed to appreciate the public importance of
the publication of a correct account of its
debates. In the early days of the century
there was an instance in which its indiffer-
ence operated to exclude reporters altogether
from the House at a time when there was a
special call for them to be there. The occa-
sion was Pitt's great speech on the state of
the nation on May 24th, 1805. Owing to
the anticipated rush for the galleries, special
instructions were given to the attendants
as to the admission of visitors, and these
had the effect of excluding the rejwrters
until the speech — by general consent the
greatest Pitt ever made — was nearly finished.
Verv naturally the papers complained loudly
of the treatment meted out to them, (hie
of the strongest of the complaints was sent
to the then Speaker (Abbott) by .Mr. Wind-
ham, who expressed the opinion "that the
claim thus openly made, however qualified, is a matter that calls for animadversion." It is clear
from this that there was no love lost between the leading men of that period and the Press. The
circumstance probably was not entirely due to the shortsightedness of the former. Reporting
was then in its infancy. Shorthand was undeveloped, and the art of condensation was not so
widely known as at present. Moreover, political feeling prompted the reporters to misrepresent
or curtail s]>ccches which were inimical to the interests their papers were anxious to maintain.
1 The number of reporters who nscd the gallery under this arrangement wns stated by Mr. Francis Wright, the chief
doorkeeper, In his evidence before the Select Committee which sat in ls:i;i to consider tlic establishment of the Ilimst; of
Commons, to be as follows : Timn, 10; Mvrning Chronicle, 10 ; Moniituj l/i-nilil, 27 ; Morniny Post, 27 ; the (liiardian, 4 ;
the Mirror of f'arlinnirnt, 7 or x : the Mi'rniny Adrcrtufr, 3; the Albiim,l', the Globe, 1 ; the Mun<l/iril, 1 : tlic
Courier, 1 ; the True Sun, F>; and the Sun, G. The witness stated that when he was first appointed in lso:| (here vere not
half the number of reporters using the gallery as at that time. There were then no evening papers.
fkota by On London Sltrcoteopic Co. . Lid.
MIL JUSTIS MCCARTHY,
The Irinh \*ti»n»li»t lwd«r«nd novrliit. who van for many yean in the
JUporUn' Gallery.
The Press Gallery
227
THE PRESS GALLERY OP THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.
Each paper nas its allotted " box " in the front row. The back row is utilised by reporters waiting their turn, leader-writers, and others having
admission to the gallery.
A striking instance in point is supplied by a complaint made against the reporters by
Mr. Wilberforce about this period. This politician read to the House, amidst peals of
laughter, an extract from a newspaper report which represented him to have advocated the
cultivation of potatoes in the following terms : " Potatoes make men healthy, vigorous, and
active ; but what is still more in their favour, they make men tall. More especially was he
led to say so, as being under common size ; and he must lament that his guardians had not
fostered him under that genial vegetable." Such audacious distortion of speech would in these
days not be possible on the part of a Gallery reporter; but a century ago the gentlemen of
the Press in the House permitted themselves a freedom which is astounding. Thus we have
it on authentic record that on one occasion, when a solemn speaker was on his legs and
there was a somewhat prolonged interruption in the flow of his eloquence, the occupants of
the Press bench called in loud tones for a "song from Mr. Speaker." It is not wonderful,
when incidents like these happened, that the reporters were not popular, and that about the
year 1795 a proposal was seriously under consideration by distinguished members of the House
" to appoint shorthand writers in order that as the debates are published they may at least be
correct." '
Despite the coldness of the attitude of the authorities, the Press gained enormously in
power at the House as the years went by. This was clearly brought out during the historic
quarrel between O'Connell and the reporters. The circumstances of this famous episode in the
annals of Parliamentary reporting may be recalled. The Liberator in the session of 1823
brought forward, as a breach of privilege, a misrepresentation of a speech he had made on the
1 Lord Colchester's Diary, vol. i. p. 24.
228
Parliament Past and Present
Irish tithe niii-Mon. In defence, tin- author of the impugned n-jKirt urged that "during his
«nlk from tin- HOII-I- tn tin- news] itjNT office, tin- rain, which was falling lu-avily at tin- time,
had mo»r uiitoitimately streamed into his |>ocket. anil washed out the notes In- had made of
Mr. OVoiuirll'- s|.eech. I 'poll which tin- latter remarked that it wa> the most extraordinary
-howcr of mill lie had ever henrd of; ina.-iinieli as it had not only washed out tlie speech lie
did make, hut had washed in another, and an entirely different one."1 This was a fair retort.
and the foni|>laint of it -elf \\a- not unrea-onalile. Hut the memliers of the Pre~. offended at
si. me general charges of misrepresentation jireferred hy ( t'Coiinell. deemed that the circumstances
demanded that they should make eominoli cause witli their offending colleague. ( 'oiiseijuetit Iv
they determined to suppress < ('Council's speeches altogether. The lioyeott. to adopt a modern
phrase, was nut at all to the Irish leader's liking or to his interest. The reports (,| his
s]>ccclies were in a large measure the elements of his strength, and any ce»atioii of the supply
was calculated to ujN-rate >erioiisly to liis detriment. Me therefore determined, after three
nights' suppression of his eliH|uence. to turn the tables on the re]xirters to boycott the
I myci itters. This he did liy the simjile expedient of using the jiower given him under t he
rules of the House of calling attention to the presence of strangers, and so securing tin- complete
clearan. f the public galleries. The move created a considerable sensation. .MemU-rs had
become so accustomed to the reporters that their absence had a most paralysing effect on
eloquence. "There \va> no animation in their manner — scarcely any attempt at that wit and
sarcasm at each other's expense so often made
oil other occasions. Their speeches Were dull
in the highest degree, anil for the first time
within the recollection of Parliamentarians
they kept their word when, on commencing
their orations, they promised not to
at any length on the patience of the
Iii fine. ( •'Council, in making the power of
Parliament felt, also demonstrated the
enormous hold that the Press had secured
on the House. The quarrel was finally
adjusted after a fashion, and it \\a- left to
the representative of a later generation to
spy strangers again in the House for the
purpose of obstructing business by imjiediiig
the operations of the Pre->.
Curiously enough, the earliest special pro-
vision made for the Press was in the House
of Lords. Accommodation was arranged in
the old Peers' chamber, destroyed by the
tire in 1834. and it was first availed of on
October l.")th. 1831. before that the reporters
had to take notes as best they could on tin-
floor of the House, without making too
ostentatious a display of their notebooks.
It was probably in some measure because
the results in these circumstances were not
altogether satisfactory that the Peers were
induced to extend their hospitality to the
reporters. The example was not immediately
followed by the C mons- indeed, the old
Pkolabyd ,'oteopic Co., Lt<l.
Bill KKWAKII CI.AKKK. K.C., M.P.,
Who eonuuennd hU brilliant outer m * reporter In the Preu Gallery of
11)0 ll"tl«e uf Commolu.
1 " Kccollcctions of a Parliamentary Career," by John O'Connell, M.P.. vol. i. p. I!!'".
* " Itandom Recollections of the House of Commons," by James Grant, p. GO.
The Press Gallery
229
system of relegating the note-taking
fraternity to a back seat in the
Strangers' Gallery might have con-
tinued for many years but for the
fire, which compelled the authorities
to face this question with many others.
They could only decide it in one
way. In fitting up the old House
of Lords as a temporary House of
Commons, the precedent established
by the Peers was borne in mind,
and on February 19th, 1835, the
gentlemen of the Press for the first
time had an allotted position in the
popular chamber. The circumstance
did not pass without notice. There
were comments on the significance
of the innovation, as illustrating the
homage paid to public opinion and
the recognition of the right of the
people to know, through the medium
of the Press, all that passed within
the legislative walls.1
Once extended, of course, the
recognition was not withdrawn. In
preparing the designs of the new
Houses of Parliament Sir Charles
Barry gave particular attention to
the needs of the reporters, and, as
far as the House of Commons is con-
cerned, established them in a position
which it would have been difficult
to better. Situated, as their gallery
is, directly above .and at the back of the Speaker, it is admirably placed for seeing and hearing
every tiling that goes on, and to this reason, combined with the fine acoustic properties of
the chamber (especially since the roof was lowered), we may attribute the rarity of the com-
plaints that speakers are not heard. In the House of Lords, where the Reporters' Gallery
faces UK- woolsack, and the position is otherwise objectionable, things are less satisfactory.
Attempts have been made to remedy the deficiencies at different times, but without much
effect, as the chamber, though architecturally and decoratively very beautiful, is acoustically
defective.
While the authorities in recent years have shown themselves desirous of meeting the
requirements of the reporters in the Houses themselves, they have not been unmindful of their
oomforl and convenience in other respects. Room after room has been placed at their disposal
until, with the latest additions made in the past session (1900-1), they now occupy a very
considerable section of the portion of the building at the back of the House of Commons, and
facing New Palace Yard. There are not only telegraph and writing rooms, and other adjuncts
of a professional character, but a generous House also provides smoking and dining and tea
rooms — in short, on a small scale, all the features which are to be found in the accommodation
below stairs for members.
The provision made, though liberal to a degree compared with that once allowed to the
1 Greville's Diary, vol. iii. p. 205.
THE n;i>s CAU.KISY oi- Tin: imrsK OF LORDS.
The »eat« in the gallery above the clock are those assigned to the members of the Tress.
230
Parliament Past and Present
members of tlu> Pros*, is none too ample for
tlu> i <ls of tin- great Inxly for whom it i>
intended. With tin1 lapse of years lias grown
ii]i an institution \a-tly differing from that
which in tin- earliest ilnys of accredited
Parliamentary reporting went hy tin- name of
the Ke|>ortcrs' (Jalh-ry. News agem-i, organ-
isations c|tiitc unknown a half-century since
now occupy an important ]ilace in the hier-
archy of note-takers as the suppliers of repoits
lo hundreds of papers all over the country,
and indeed the Kmpire. A representative of
tin- world-famed Renter's Agency is there to
transmit to every capital, and to every ]>opu-
lous spot on the face of the civilised globe.
the latest pronouncement of Ministers on a
matter of foreign policy, or a digest of the
most recently issued Blue-lxx)k. The great
provincial newspapers also have successfully
asserted their claims to have representatives
in the gallery, and there, too. are to be
found summary-writers, leader-writers, London
correspondents, and occasionally editors, who
drop in to see for themselves how things are
going in the political. world, in order that they
may the better direct the policy of the
papers they control. It is a Press world in
itself, and one which has its own treasured
traditions and its peculiar customs and usages.
Amongst the names inscribed upon its roll are
those of men who have won high distinction
in many and varied walks of life. Dickens was an old Gallery hand. Eminent authors and
politicians like Mr. Justin McCarthy have had their early training there. It has been the
cradle of the reputations of men of the law not less renowned than Sir Kdwanl Clarke and
the late Lord Chief Justice (Lord Russell of Killowen). From its ranks the House itself has
U-eii recruited to a not inconsiderable extent. In a sentence, it has from small beginnings
and humiliating associations attained to a position of honour and influence which entitles it
to be regarded as a national institution.
In connection with the Press Gallery a brief reference may appropriately lie made to the
publication of the official reports of debates. As we have seen, the printing by news|>apers
of speeches delivered in the House is by the public accepted as a record of what is said. Imt
these accounts bear no responsibility as an official record. For years Cobbett's "Political
Kegister " and the "Parliamentary llistorv" took a place as works of authenticity. But it
was by Luke Hansard, a poor, friendless hoy. coming to London from Norwich at, the end of
the eighteenth century, and obtaining a situation in a printer's office as a compositor, that
the well-known "Hansard" was developed. Published in volumes and sessional series, the
"Debates" became a valuable and indispensable record of the proceedings of Parliament. The
Ilan-ard family subsequently Ivcame. as well as publishers of the "Debates," printer- to
the House of Commons, and made a large fortune, until in recent years the Government, by
means of the Controller of the Stationery Office, took the publication under their control.
Pkalo by Elliott A- Fry, Batrr Strtel, W.
MR. II. W. LUCY,
(" Tobj, M.I'.' ), a brilliant member of th« Pr«« Gallery who has written
much and well on Parliamentary life and hUtor;.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE DESIGN OF THE NEW PALACE.
Now that we have brought this great work to the stage of completion, we may appropriately
survey the structure and take note of its chief features. Its design has been subjected to
much criticism at different times, and in some respects it is not happy. The profuse orna-
mentation gives an impression of tawdriness, and it is, besides, quite unsuited to the London
climate, as the mutilated character of many of the statues sufficiently attests. Moreover,
there is a certain air of monotony about the long, unbroken facades which detracts from
artistic effect. Still, with all their limitations, the Houses of Parliament remain without a
compeer among modem buildings in this country. Their majestic towers and broken outlines,
their fine vistas and their vast proportions (they occupy eight acres of ground), all tend
to make them an object of wonder and admiration to the stranger who sees them for the
first time.
In style the building is Gothic. " Of all styles," we are told, " Mr. Barry admired
most the Early English, but he thought it hardly fit for other than ecclesiastical purposes.
Finally, he chose Perpendicular, thinking that it would lend itself more easily to the require-
ments of the building, and to the principle of regularity which he intended to introduce
in his design. But if he could have had a site to his mind, and had been left free to choose
his style, there is little doubt that he would have preferred Italian. The example most
THE HOUSE OP COMMON'S,
From a photograph taken from the Surrey side of Westminster Bridge.
231
232
Parliament Past and Present
\va-
frequently in liis thoughts
Inigo ,lone-'s grand
for tin- I'alai-c- at
Whitehall. lit' actually pre-
pared sonic sketches and
>tudies for an Italian dcs-ign.
in defiance of tin- i:i>truc-
tions to competitor-. Hut
he felt that undi-r all cir-
cumstances (iothic was the
style best fitted for tin- new
Palace. and it \Ve-t min>n-r
Hall was to he made a
feature in the design, tin-
only >t\lc ]Hissihlc ; and he
was consoled for the lo>s of
Italian hy the thought of
the facility given hy (iothic
for the erection of tower-.
the one method hy which
he thought it po<>ible to
redeem from in>ignilicanee
a great building. in which
convenience fnrhade great
general height. and for
which a low and unfavour-
able >ite had heen pro-
vided."
These general con:«ider-
ations help us to understand
and a]ipreciate the architec-
tural features of the huilding.
But it must never he for-
gotten that the House:- nf
Parliament, as we know
them to-day, were only a part of Sir Charles Harry's original conception. His plan was "to
enclo.-e New Palace Yard, creating at the angles a lofty gate tower, visihle from Bridge Street
to the Abbey. Beyond this point was to he a grand quadrangle, in which the Victoria Tower
should lx- the principal feature, and from that tower a grand approach was to lead to
Buckingham Palace." A glance at the illustration on page 172 will show what a »raii>form:i-
tinii the additions would have effected in the appearance of the design. The change, it will
generally he conceded, would have been for the better. It would have given the design that
unity which it at present lacks, and supplied a noble approach to the precincts, such as the
ini]Nirtaiice of the building demands. Kconomical reasons. a> they often do in the>e matters.
Meppcd in to prohibit the scheme, and it was reluctantly laid aside by the architect. But
he reverted to it in 185:5, when the question of providing new (Jovernment offices was under
ili-cii-i.in. He then urged \vjth much insi.-tcnce that to leave New Palace Yard open, or to
enclose it only with a rail, would be artistically a great blunder, since the Parliament buildings
would he viewed from the higher ground of I'ridge Street, and appear actually sunk, while
the an -a it -elf. having a considerable diagonal fall acr<»- the open space. Mould further tend
to de-troy the effect iveness of the prospect. " By pulling down the Law Courts, and opening
the whole sid.- i if \Ve-t min>ter Hall, he conceived that a still worse effect would be produced;
Mil: VICTORIA TOWKlt, FKOM Till: UAICDK.N.
The dominating architectural feature of the tyiuwn of Parliament. One of the largest anil highest
•quare towcu in tin- world.
The Design of the New Palace
233
for the scale and parts of the Hall are so large that it must be utterly incongruous with the
buildings around it." These arguments failed to carry weight with the Government of the
time. Nor did the project recommend itself more strongly to Lord Palmerston's Ministry,
when the architect's son brought it forward in 1864. New Palace Yard was left open as a
permanent arrangement, and quite recently the final touch has been given to the plan he
condemned by the appropriation of the site of the old Law Courts as an open space.
Therefore, to criticise Sir Charles Barry for the lack of harmony in the Parliament Square
front of the Houses of Parliament is scarcely fair. No one was more sensible than he of the
deficiencies of the design in its truncated form.
A remarkable building in every respect was that which finally emerged from the ashes
of the old Palace of Westminster. In point of size it is unique amongst the public buildings
THE HOUSES OF PAliMAMKM. IKoM LAMBETH BRIDGE.
Thia view of the liouses of Parliament gives the best general idea of Sir Charles Barry's great work.
of this country, and probably the only Continental structures to compare with it are the
Vatican and the Escurial at Madrid, upon the latter of which seven millions were lavished.
< Hvupying, as we have shown, eight acres of ground, and embracing within its confines upwards
of five hundred rooms, many of them of great size, it is more a little town than a building.
Kvi-n those who have frequented the place for years have been known to be temporarily at
fault as to their proper direction in its labyrinthine corridors or its complicated maze of courts.
In a decorative sense the great work is not less wonderful. There are some seven hundred
monuments in and about the structure. Nearly every single foot of the front has its own
cunningly worked design. To Sir Charles Barry, in fact, may fittingly be applied in a slightly
altered form Heber's description of the Mogul builder of the Taj Mahal at Agra, that he
" built like a Titan and finished like a jeweller."
30
234
Parliament Past and Present
To *eo the magiiilicent jiilo at its best it must be viewed from tin- T,-iml>rth Palace.
pn-fer.il'lv in tin- early afternoon of a lat<* summer day, \\ln-n the -"it mists, mellowed hv
i!.«- x-tiint; sun. an- gathering about it> lofty towers and its pinnacled roof's. I-'rmii that jmint
we are able to i.-ali-.- something of the n«l yramli-ur of Sir Charles Harry's design. On the
left, dominating tin- whole, arises in majestic Iteauty to a height of :i:iii In-t tlic Yiricn-ia
TOWIT. th«« larjjt^t and hiftiest st|uar<* towt-r in the world. l-Vmn this ^iyantif stnu-ture t<>
the river in the south front, impressive in its simplicity and regularity of outline. Then,
!>trvt<-liinj{ away for a distance of 9(i() feet, is the noble river front, Hanked at either end liv
projecting wingti, whose lofty pinnacles and rich tracery and carving emphasise aliv>h the
snmptnonsness of tlie
design. It has uiten
lieell objected that the
lci\vne» «.(' tliis front
in coni|iarison with its
great length seriously
detnu-t> from it> etVec-
ti\ene>s, anil it i--
ini]iossihle to deny the
justice of the criticism.
I'.nt it should not In-
overlooked that the
site i^ a deplonibly
liad one for a palatial
erect ion of t his char-
acter. It is Ml lo\\
that the spectator
must almost inevit-
ably Kx)k down ii]. on
a considerable part of
the building. Then
it has also to be
remembered that the
extreme length given
to the front was not
contemplated when
the plans were origin-
ally framed. lleavv
demands for increased
accommodation as the
building progressed '
forced upon Sir Charles
Harry extensions in
this direction which
were against his better
judgment. lie at-
tempted. i:ot without
success, to neutralise
the effect of the
change by slightly
raising the whole
TIIK HAM; OK THK VICTORIA TOWER.
In tLi. ,.,itut« »n oioclUnt idot !. farni>h«d of the muiiveneia of the tower and the Vimy of the
atrhitectilral detail.
1 It U «at«-.I by Mr. Harry in hi* life of his father that claims for space arising out of the ventilation schem.
Dr. Keid absorbed one-third of the cubical contents of the building us originally planned.
The Design of the New Palace
235
THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT, FROM PARLIAMENT SQUARE.
This view of the Parliamentary buildings, though the most important, is the least effective.
centre and heightening into towers the masses which flanked it. But all that he could
accomplish in this way did not give the front that impressiveness of elevation which, owing
to its great length, it should possess. Still, the fault, if fault it is, is not sufficiently grave
to destroy the general effectiveness of the design. London has architecturally few fairer
prospects to offer than that quarter-mile of fretted stonework rising, as it seems to the
spectator, from his Lamheth vantage-ground, from the swift-running tideway.
It is unfortunate that on the land side there is no really good general view obtainable
of the Houses of Parliament. What should be the best front, that facing towards Parliament
Square, is its worst. Here the spectator looks upon a mass of buildings without uniformity
of design or architectural beauty. On the one hand is the mediaeval front of Westminster
Hall, surmounted by its vast, high-pitched roof, offering to view a great expanse of blue slate.
On the other is the modern Gothic work of Sir Charles Barrv, seen in its most unfavourable
light. The Clock Tower, which should play an important part in the picture, is too near to
have its proper effect. The whole is a jumble which leaves on the stranger who sees only
this side of our senatorial buildings a very inadequate notion of their beauty and importance.
Infinitely more imposing is the prospect which offers from the pavement about Henry VII. 's
Chapel. Here we get to a part of the building in which Sir Charles Barry was able to work
nut his own ideas, free from the trammels imposed in the case of the New Palace Yard
front. The Victoria Tower, to which reference has already been made, is the imposing central
feature. Curious as it may seem, it was not provided for in the original design. It was added
to meet the requirements of Dr. Keid in the matter of ventilation. Yet no part of the
building had more time and care bestowed upon it by the architect. The plans underwent
repeated alterations. The tower, we are told, "was originally treated with all the solidity
236
Parliament Past and Present
of a • keep,' hut flic reduction in
plan wa> oompenmted by mcrea-i-
ill height, and the whole character
of tin- de>ign was necessarily
changed. Tlic entrance at tir>t
was of moderate dimension:-, and
the top of (lie niche band ranged
with the cornice of the building.
It was now raised to its present
magnificent dimensions ; the
niches remained, and the ii]>]>er
|iart of the tower was divided
into three large and two smaller
stories. The design and arrange-
ment of these co.~t incalculable
trouble before it assumed its
present form, divided into three
windows, and the upjier story
rendered the prominent one by
t he arched and canopied windows."
In short, this architectural after-
thought became the great domi-
nating factor in the design.
But it is something more than
an architectural feature. Ac-
commodating an archway fifty
feet high and proportionately
wide, it supplies an appropriate
State entrance to the building,
and compensates for the loss of
the grand staircase which was
one of the original ideas in Sir
Charles Barry's fertile brain. It
is, besides, at one and the same
time, the great record-house of
the Senate and its \entilating shaft. Viewing the structure from the further side of Old
1'alace Yard, we miss something of its imposing grandeur by the nearness of the object, but
nevertheless the \i>ta which is provided by the western facade, with the huge mass of the
tower looming against the sky, is an exceedingly fine one.
Coondered as a whole, the exterior of the pile cannot, however, be regarded otherwise
than as disappointing. It is ini|>osiiig in its bigness, it is, as we have seen, in some of its
aspects full of beauty; but it lacks that overpowering sense of distinction which we have a
right to expect in so costly and ambitious a structure. The deficiencies of the site account
for much. They \\<-r<- so thoroughly realised at the time the work was undertaken, that
]iro]>o.-als were made to locate the new Houses of Parliament in some other position than tin-
old one, among:-! the areas suggested being the high ground in St. James's Park and Trafalgar
Sjiiare. Still, bad as the site is. it is not alone responsible for the artistic shortcomings of the
building. If Sir Charles Harry's plans had been carried out in their completeness, and the
mining wings and grand gateway in New Palace Yard hat! been added, a far greater artistic
success would have Ix-en achieved.
TIIK VICTdlUA IciU Kl:.
The largest and luftiett »[uare tower in the world. It la 330 feet high.
CHAPTER XVIII.
DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF THE HOUSE OF LORDS.
THE main entrance to the Houses of Parliament is by way of the stately Victoria Tower, the
most remarkable feature, both in design and construction, of this noble pile. Seventy-five feet
square, and four hundred and twenty feet high to the flagstaff from which the Eoyal Standard
floats on State occasions, and the Union Jack always during the sittings of Parliament, the
structure arrests attention by reason of its massive and splendid proportions. The tower is more
than twice the height of the Monument at London Bridge, is sixty feet higher than the top
of the cross on the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral; and is nearly three times the height of the
leaning tower of Pisa. It is situated so near the river that doubts were at first entertained
as to the possibility of its erection, with due regard to safety. In order to ensure stability
the building operations were prosecuted with the utmost caution. Only thirty feet of the
tower was erected in a single year, and meanwhile the most vigilant watch was kept to
detect any signs of settlement. Fortunately nothing untoward occurred then, or has occurred
since, to cast doubt on Sir Charles Barry's judgment in designing so striking an architectural
feature and placing it in the position it is — a stone's-throw from the swift-rushing waters of
the Thames.
If outwardly the tower is remarkable, it is internally not without special features of
interest. Over the entrance archway the longest spiral staircase in the world begins, giving
access to the top of the tower. The windings give the idea of looking through the wrong
end of a telescope.
It is a difficult way,
trodden by few feet,
for the various cham-
bers of which the
tower is composed are
utilised for the storage
of State records in
little request. An
absolutely fireproof
system of construction
renders this building
the safest, as it is per-
haps also the most
ornate, muniment-
house in the world.
Access to the
interior of the Palace
is by way of the Eoyal
staircase under the
archway. This is an
imposing flight of
steps, lined with
statuary and em-
J THE ENTRANCE TO THE HOUSE OP LORDS.
Through this doorway direct access is obtainable to the most important apartments of the building.
237
238
Parliament Past and Present
of nivliit.vtiiml detail. Pa»«ing tin- (iuard K.M.III. the \i>it<n- finds himself in tin- K"\;il Kohing-
KO.HII. Standing in this a|«ai1ment nnd facing the d<x>r leading to tin- interior of the Palace.
• '• U <>n a direct line with tin- Speaker's Chair at the opposite extreme of flu- building. It
is |m.sjb|e tn proceed tin- entire distance nf seven hundivd feet \vitlnmt ascending or
ing a -iiiijlf >tfp.
The Kinti's It'oliint;-I\iMiin i-mitiiins rhair* of Staff of liandsoine di-i^n. On the
of tlie nx>in l«dges of tlie Kni;li>li inoiiaivli> are |>ainted, and U]»m the walls are tlie tir.-t of
the frv>co ]>aintini;s wliic-li alxnind in the in:»ny nnnns presently to Ix- deserilx-d. Of n nt
\e:ir- Minn- eontroversy ]l!ls taken jil.ice rei^inlinsj the condition of the.-e works of art. The
.jiif-timi fir.-t came into prominence in 1K!)4, when .Mr. Herbert Gladstone, who was then
I. Jl , R.,4.
"TIIK DKATH or NKI,SOX."
Kroin the famous freKu in the Rojml Gallery.
Kir>t ('oininis>ioiier of Works, discovering that some of the pictures were showing siirns of
decay, eonsiilteil the President of the Hoyal Academy on the subject, with the result that
.Mr. A. II. Church, professor of chemistry, was called in to give an opinion as to the best
means <>f pivsemng the pictures. That gentleman at once liecame interested, and most
readily placed his services gratuitously nt the disposal of the Government. He made
experimental trials ii|H>n the services of the frescoes, carefully keeping them under ol»ervat ion,
and subsequently made an exhaustive report to the .Ministrv. explaining the result of his
work. Migge«ting certnin means to be adopted in future for In-tter preserving the frescoes.
and offer inir his <er\ ices again should they be required.
In the Kobing-room the legend of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table
is taken as the theme for a series of paintings by Mr. I>vce. K.A.. and attention is at once
THE KIXG'S EOBIXG-ROOM,
\Vbere the Royal procession in formed on the opening of Parliament.
THE KINO'S KOBING-BOOM.
Another view of the apartment, showing the Royal chair.
239
240
Parliament Past and Present
ii|ioii thorn. Tin- Mihjects nro: '•//iwyx'fWity" — "the admission of Sir Tri stnun to the
fell..\\-hip of the Kound Talilf"; " ('niirtt-H .'/"—" Sir Tri-tram harping to La Belle Isidore";
•• fi'rjiriW// "— " Kin-,' Artlnir. unhor>ed. is s;«intl liy liis adversary"; " IM'njion " — "the vision
of Sir Galnhad ami hi> Company" ; and " Mercy "— " Sir (iawainc swearing to be merciful and
to protect all ladie>."
In this room the I {oval procession is formed, and proceeds to the Royal Gallery — the
largot ii]>ailiiient. excepting \Ve>tmin>ter Mall, in the building. The Koyal Gallery, a hundred
and ten feet Inn-,', admirably carries out the idea intended. At ordinary times it is destitute
of all furniture and cumbrous fittings, but H|MHI Slat.- <>cca>ions rows of seats are placed along
RrprodveHl by ptruiuion o/(A« Art Union o/Zom/OH /.».,* (/.•.'/ • Iniye uujratiag o/ the picturt by D. Macliie, R.A,
"THE MEETISG OF WELLINGTON AND BLUCHEB AFTER WATERLOO."
From th« famous fresco in the Roj»l Gallery.
both sides, under the control of the Ixjrd Great Chamberlain, who issues tickets of
ti> visitors desirous of seeing the procession pass along.
The fresco jMiintings here are the well-known pictures by D. Maclise, K.A. — "The Meeting
of Wellington and I'lucher after Waterhxi" and "The Death of Nelson." Both are studies
intensely dramatic and pie1uresi|ue. They are companion pictures, each measuring forty-five feet
long by twelve feet high. The figures are painted life-si/.e. and the artist has availed him-el)
i if every |M)ssibh- means to secure accuracy of the portraits as well as of the details of military
and naval co>tuine> uf the period.
It wa- in the Koyal (iallery that on July 18th, 1901, Earl Russell stood his trial for
bigamy. .Marked by all the picturesque accessories which attend a State trial, the proceedings
d much interest in political and social circles. At the cost of several hundred pounds
the interior was completely transformed to serve the purposes intended. At one end a Royal
THE OPENMNG OF PARLIAMENT BY KING EDWARD VII.
ID UK violin I to K tot ud tb» yuc»u In tbelr robra u( 8Ut*. «u.l ultrudoi by th< «rr»l Offlocn u» 8UU, «r« ibown pudlu Umo(k the Roy>I O»llrry
on lb«(r way to the PMn' Chunbw.
241
31
242
Parliament Past and Present
throne and ran<>]>v of crimson cloth was erected, as the trial \va- >upposrd to take place in the
iictuul pre-.-ii< i- of tin- Sovereign. I'IKUI tin- dais in front of the throne was placed a chair of
for tin- iNvu|i»lion of tin- bird High Steward Lord llal>bury), who acted a< president at
the trial. (Hlicrof his Mnje-t y'.- judges w ho liad been summoned to attend were ace •ommodat.-d
U|N»!I wool-acks in front. Kight and left of tli<' throw seats \\ere placed for Irish and Scottish
who an- i.ot JMIT- of Parliament, and seats were also allocated for peeresses and eldest
tons of |" - Near the jndu'e- \\eii- tables f,,r officials of (lie court. coiniM-l. and otliers. and
a witiie->-lxi\ -i-d i-lo-i- bv. A <-hair for tlie accused ].eer occiijiied a |iroininent ]>la<-e
in tin- ci-ntn-. In-tween the wool-ack- and the H.ir. which divided the actual ]irecinets of the
court from >tr.iin;er» privile^fd to attend. The remainder of the space within the l!:u \\a- tilled
with bcm-hos. eoxep-d with M-arlet cloth, for peers who formed the jury to decide the I.:
TIIK I'KKKS' CHAMBER: VIK>
Tl.f L'-illrtin »t tlie tad are rcrcrvcd for rtran({er» and n:<
WOOL&iOK.
or ; those at the nides arc f. i
the- prisoner. The actual trial proved of great interest to the student of constitutional forms, but
it i> of >o recent occurrence that there is no need here to do more than Mate that it resulted
in n sentence of three month-' impriMiiiineut upon the Earl following upon his plea of guilty.
L'l-uming our tour, we come to the 1'rince's Chamber, where the .Sovereign i- n-cei\ed by
the leading nobility on great State ocea>ions. such as the opening of Parliament. The apart-
ment is an ante-room to the HOIIM- of Lords, and was originally intended to form the u]>|>er
end of the Koval (iallery. It is of the same height as that chamber, but of a width which
prevents a ju>t appreciation of the beauty of the surrounding decorations, which are very
profu.-e. The splendid marble statue group of figures by Mr. .J.tiihson. K.A.. "Her most
(inu-ious MajeMy (^ueen Victoria." sitting UJKIII the throne, holding the sceptre and the laurel
crown, siipjiorted by ".lust ice" and "Clemency." is an attractive work, but bare and cold, and
out of character with tlie arrangements of the chamber, giving it a cramped and conge-ted
THE ROYAL GALLERY.
Here distinguished visitors are permitted to see the Royal procession pass through at the opening of Parliament.
THE ROYAL GALLERY. AS FITTED UP FOR THE TRIAL OF LORD RUSSELL.
243
244
Parliament Past and Present
THE PIUXCK'S CHAMI'.Kl:.
Where the King it received l»y the leading iml.ility, n» gtrangers being permitted to be j resent.
appearance. The fireplaces
are of elalxirate design, and
the bas-reliefs of Mr. William
Theed. "Tin- I-'ield of the
Cloth of (mid." ••'Ihe l->ape
of Mary (Jueen of Scot-."
"The Murder of l,'i//i..."
•• IJaleigh'.- Chivalry to ljueen
Kli/.aheth." and other- are
well worth in>pectioii. a.- al>o
are the full-length portraits
of Sovereigns of Kn^'land and
their coiiMirt-. Tin- ceiling
of the apartment is dark blue
with gold-work.
TlIK 1'KKK.s' ClIAMIIKK.
If the visitor enter.- one
of the doors on either side
of the Prince's Chamber and
takes his stand in the Peer-'
chamber, he will have a strik-
ing coup d'uill presented to
him. The beauty of the
architecture, the perfect pro-
portions of the chamber, the
decorations and embellishments:, and the exquisite harmony of the colouring all go to
make up a picture of a very impressive kind. To be viewed at its be>t the splendid apart ment
must be seen, as it was recently, when the Sovereign, in the fullest regal state, attends to open
Parliament in person. The spectacle then presented excels in stately magnificence anything
that this, or probably .
any other, count rv ha- HMIfcr*Vf9&* -
to show. An exact
dc-rription of the
ceremony will be
given in a subsequent
chapter, and mean-
while we may supply
some further par-
ticulars of the leading
>trnctnral and decora-
tive features of this,
the culminating effort
of Harrv's genius for
design.
The dimensions
of the chamber are
\\'2 by 4H feet, t iK-
heiglit lieing aUmt
t In- .-a me as t lie
. . „„ Tin: HAH <>r rut: inn si: or i.oiins.
breadth, fheeicellent
In the encl<«ed »i»ce the Sjieaker nUndi when attemlini.1 !!..• Vfftt UOUK ; lueiubem nf the Cuuimon»
HM- made of the area .land behind him.
J-','"in >t i>huto by Sir Benjamin Stone, 3/.P.
FRESCO IN THE PEERS' ROBING-ROOM :
" MOSES BEINGING DOWN THE TABLES OF THE LAW," BY J. E. HEEBEET, B~.A,
,>lirjto hi' tin- B'iitJ'tntin Stftiit, M P.
v>-
PAINTING IN THE PEERS ROBING-EOOM :
"THE JUDGMENT OF DANIEL," BY J. E. HERBERT, E.A
245
246
Parliament Past and Present
•• Spirit of Jtutice," by D. Macliw, RA. "Spirit of Chivilry,' by II. MncliM, R.A. " Spirit «f Religion," by J. C. Horalfy, A.I! A
FRESCOES OVER THE STRANGERS GALLKRY IS THE HOUSE OF LORDS.
of 4,140 feet at the command of the architect gives the appearance of a much larger hall. N»
massive chandeliers or lustres interrupt the view of the elegant ceiling, which is built perfeetly
horizontal, with massive ribs carved and gilded, and divided into compartments anil panels of
sub-divisions; at the intersecting jmiiits are pendants, which in no way interfere with the design.
The historical devices which figure upon the ceiling are of great beauty. Kegal crowns and Uoyal
monograms are appropriately painted at the throne end, while at other parts cognisance- ..)
the earlier monarchs are represented- - the white hart of Kichard II., the sun of the Mouse
of York, the crown in a bush of Henry VII., the falcon, the dragon, and the greyhound, the
lion pas-ant of England, the lion rampant of Scotland, the harp of Ireland. Sceptres and orbs,
the scales of justice, ecclesiastical mitres and croxiers, etc., all find a place among the paintings
of the panelling above. The I'nitcd Kingdom is not alone represented, for devices can be
seen of the pomegranate of Castile, the portcullis of Beaufort, the lily of France, and shields with
the armorial bearings of counties which composed the Saxon Heptarchy. The whole ceiling
is a study of heraldic art. A soft, mellow light is obtained in the daytime by means of Gained
glass windows on each side of the House, extending nearly from the roof more than half-way
down towards the floor. Upon the windows are rich paintings representing the Kings and
Queens, arranged in chronological order and divided into section-, of Hoyal lines of Kngland
and Scotland, and, after the 1'nion. of the crown of Great Britain. Below the window > i-
an oak i«nelling supplying exquisite specimens of the art of wood-carving, and along the
sides of the House runs a light gallery with a single row of -cats supported by an elegant I v
designed railing of bra.sswork. The entrance to this gallery is by doors in the oak panelling,
and hen- at times distinguished lady visitors watch the proceedings below. The ladies' of the
1 Occasionally, however, the presence of Indies has a disconcerting effect upon noble orators, as \\itnos the
following extract from Lord Malnn 'shiny's memoirs: "The number of ladies who attended the debate (on Lord
KllenborouKh's want of confidence motion. May 12th, Is.Vi) rivaled jrr,.,.,t displeasure aiiiont; the |>eers. Lord
Klleiil>oroui;h said that it n.ade him nervous; and Lord lAiidhurst po.-iti\ely refused to speak, saying that the
House looked like a casino, and not a place where business is tiansm-ted. Lord Kcdesdale was also very angry.
a« the ladies overflowed from the p-dlery into the House. This invasion will, I fear, lead to more stringent and
leu agreeable arrangements in future."
Detailed Description of the House of Lords 247
Koyal Family and other distinguished visitors may upon occasions of interest be seen seated
in this gallery, no objection being entertained in the Upper tfouse to the visible presence
of the fair sex. At the north end of the House, immediately above the Bar and facing the
throne, are built convenient galleries for strangers (who are admitted upon the orders of peers)
and for the representatives of the Press. Behind these galleries, within three archways, are
painted frescoes, "The Spirit of Justice" and "The Spirit of Chivalry," by D. Maclise, K.A.,
and "The Spirit of Eeligion," by J. C. Horsley, A.R.A.
The floor presents to the spectator three divisions, the upper and lower sections occupying
the entire width of the House. The former, as we have seen, is enth-ely taken up by the
throne and canopy, while the other end, under the Strangers' Gallery, forms a space below the
Bar, and is technically outside the precincts of the chamber. Here during the sitting of
the House strangers having the entree are allowed to stand, and a limited number of chairs
are placed for ladies, who are admitted upon the personal application of members of either
House to the Yeoman Usher of the Black Hod, who is seated close to the Bar, and has charge
of the arrangements of this portion of the House. In the body of the House, comprising the
central division, is placed, in front of the woolsack, the table at which the Clerk of the
Parliaments and his colleagues are seated. The remaining space on the floor is filled up by
cross benches, and at each
side five rows of other seats
rise in an elevated position
to the side walls, \oble lords
who are members of the
Government, and their sup-
porters, sit at the right of
the throne, and the Opposition
peers upon the left. The cross
benches are reserved for those
who have no pronounced
political opinions, and upon
ordinary occasions may here
-ren H.R.H. the Prince of
Wales and the Duke of Cam-
bridge, it being contrary to
u-aije for peers of Koyal blood
to identify themselves with
• •it her political party.
leaving the House of
Lords, the massive brass gates
at the doorways and the
.-tandards used for lighting
purposes afford a welcome
relief to the eye from the
Himbreness of the Peers'
Lobby, which is used as a
cloak-room. To the right are
passages leading to the dining-
rooms, libraries, etc., and to
the left, somewhat out of the
track we are pursuing, is
situated the Peers' robing-
room. This apartment was FIREPLACE i\ THK PIIIXCK'S c HA.MI:I:I:.
originally intended for a hall T,,, b»relief overmantel represent. " The Field of the Cloth of Gold."
248
Parliament Past and Present
of justice, but wa> found too small fur tin- purjKise. It is now used for tin- meeting- of
l{i»vnl Commis-ioii-, Committee-, etc. Tin- fn-coe- here, by .1. 1\. Herbert. 1>'.A.. have attracted
considerable attention in the world of art. They illustrate •• Iliunan Ju-tice ami it-
l>e\elopment of Liw and Judgment." " M .- hi inking down the Tallies of the l.a\\." and
"The Judgment of ]>aniel."
THK CKXTKAL HALL.
Fnun the I'crr-' l.ohhy a short corridor leads to the Octagon Hall, which is the centre
of the building, and marks the divi.-ion between the House of I/mls and the House of Commons.
Kncli of the eii,'ht side- i- lieaut ifully arched ; the roof is MIJI] Milled liy massive beams, and
the window.- are of stained gla.-s. Over the archway- north and south, leading n->] eet i\i-ly to
the House of Commons and House of Lords, are <;las< mosaic pictures of the ]iati'ou saints
THK CKSTBAL II VI. I., sllnWIXr THE LAST STATUK OK MU. GLAIISTONE.
Tte door behind it u the entrance to the Strangi-iV Uallerjr ut the HOIIM of Cuuiiuuiu.
of <t. (ieorge and St. David, the work of Sir E. J. 1'oynter, I'.lx.A., and other similar works.
St. Andrew and St. Patrick will, when finished, find a place upon the alternate recesses of the
wall.-. The Central Hall is used principally as a waiting place for .-tran^er> wishing to interview
member.-, or seeking admission to the gallery of t he House of Commons, the entrance to which
i- in one of the corners. In this hall, at times of political excitement, animated crowds may
sometimes he seen wailing till the small hours of the morning to learn the tirst news ot an
im]Kirtant division expected to take place in the House of Commons. Hound the hall are
statues of deceased statesmen of modern times— Karl Kussell. Karl (iran\ ille. Sir Stafford
Northcote. and the Kight Hon. W. K. (iladstone. The last named is a lifelike representation ,,f
the popular statesman, standing in ft characteristic attitude. It is the most recent addition to
the statuary of the Palace.
The encaustic tile pavement of this hall and the corridors is specially noticeable. Inscriptions
and mottoes are freely introduced. The most conspicuous is that in the Central Hall, where the
M. STEPHEN'S HALL.
The site of St. Stephen's Chapel, used .is the House of Commons for three hundred years.
249
32
250
Parliament Past and Present
visitor, as he paces the floor, reads:
•• l-'.xeept tin- Lord keep tin- house
their labour is but lost that build it.''
Pas-ing under the eastern arch-
way of the hall a jwissage gives access
tn a small lower waiting hall at the
foot of the staircase leading to the
upper story of the building, where the
coin in it tee-rooms are situated. On
the first landing of this staircase a
statue of the late Sir Charles Barry,
the architect of the 1'alacr. is placed
in a position strangely inappropriate
and unworthy of the man who
devote. 1 the greater part of his life to
designing this great pile.
On the west side of the Central
Hall, on a slightly lower level, is St.
Stephen's Hall. This occupies the
actual site of the old St. Stephen's
Chapel. in which the House of
Commons met for three hundred years.
In the hall brass tablets indicate the
positions occupied by the Speaker's
Chair and the table of the old HOUM-.
The actual table designed bv Sir
Christopher Wren in 1707, and saved
from the fire in 1834, is now to be
seen in the members' tea-room, it
having been placed there at the
suggestion of Sir Reginald F. D.
Palgrave, K.C.B., late Clerk of the
House of Commons, who devoted much time and thought to locating the positions of historic
interest in connection with the old building and the new.
ComjMired with other parts of the Palace, St. Stephen's Hall is plain as regards decoration,
but although no paintings are to be seen upon the walls, round the hall are marble statues
of bygone statesmen who have taken their share in the Parliamentary warfare of previous
generations. The visitor is confronted with the effigies of Hampden, Wai pole, Chatham.
Burke, Fox, Pitt, and Grattan, with others who have thundered out their eloquence almost
U|MIII the sjKit upon' which he is standing, and though unpretending and simple, the apartment
in jxrint of historic interest ranks higher than any part of either House of Parliament.
Passing for a few moments out of the western door, we stand u]>on the flight of steps
in front of the large stained glass window, and obtain a line view of Westminster Hall.
STATUE OF SIB CHAHLES DABBY,
Hind at the foot of the itniroue trading to the committee-rooms.
CHAPTER XIX.
DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.
FROM the Central Hall the visitor approaches the House of Commons by the corridor to
the left as he enters from St. Stephen's Hall. During the sittings of the House admission
is jealously guarded by two experienced police constables, who have strict orders to allow no
unauthorised person to enter. It may be noted in passing that the whole of the precincts and
approaches of both Houses of Parliament are guarded by the civil authorities, contrary to
the custom which obtains in most foreign senate houses, where the military are much in
evidence. This arrangement is by no means accidental, for it is a fixed principle of the
Constitution that armed soldiers, theoretically servants of the Sovereign, must not be permitted
to control any of the proceedings of the people's representatives. The historic incident already
narrated of the attempted arrest of the five members by Charles I. will occur to mind in
Rrproduced ky ptrmiuion of the Art I'aion of London from their largeplate of the picture by E. M. Ward, B.A.
FRESCO IN THE COMMONS CORRIDOR : " THE LAST SLEEP OF ARGYLL."
251
252
Parliament Past and Present
IlfST OP LOUD BAXDOLPU Cllf HCH I 1. 1.,
Pluxl on the nwlulwn' tUiroue of the Home
of On
this connection. To the unwanantable intrusion of the
misguided Stuart King \\as in large measure due tin- n
(|iifiit Revolution. Incidentally it established more tirinlv
the practice of civil Mij>er\ision of tin- legislative precincts;
sci that <-vcn now an ord.-r goes );„•(!, ,,t the openii,
every session directing the Commissioner of Police to watch
over the convenience of memliers coming to and going
from St. Stephen's, an order resjNinded tn liv tlie dev
of an exjierieneeil body of picked men of tin* A I>i\i>ion.
who discharge their duties with unfailing tact and discretion
under the supervision of an officer of long experience.
The Commons corridor contains the final sen,
frescoes, among them being "The Last Sleep of Argvll."
"Monk Declaring for a Free Parliament.'' and "T
Acquittal of the Se\en liishops." Passing them, the visitor
enters the Lobby, a description of which has been given in
another chapter. To the right of the Lobby is the l.ihrarv
corridor, and here we notice ranged along the walls i •
oak-panelled lockers, which are allotted one to each im-mb. T.
and used for keeping private documents. At the end of
this corridor is a passage leading to the Speaker's otlico,
and a staircase which gives access to the smoking-n
where friends of members are admitted. In this room
years ago a scene of rare interest took place. It hap]
that one evening a well-known member had been entertaining at the House a small partv,
among them a thought-reading expert, who at that time was creating a considerable stir
in London society. The idea suggested itself to some one that a demonstration in
smoking-room would be a pleasant wav of pas-ing
a dull evening. To another the even happier
notion occurred of getting the late .Air. <;iad>tone
to join in the seance. It was a somewhat >tartling
proposal, but with the exercise of diplomacy it
v.as sueccs>l'ully carried through. At the appointed
hour the right honourable gentleman, who was
then Premier, duly appeared in the smoking-room,
a part of the House which the oldest member never
ivmembered seeing him in previou>ly. In his eager,
impulsive fashion he entered into the spirit of
the thing, and after witnes>ing with intere-t the
experiments upon others, handed himself over to the
thought- reader for the exercise of his power*. It
was not an entirely successful demonstration. Indeed,
tin' operator confessed freely that he had never had
a more difficult subject. The incident, however,
created much amusement, and served the u-rfiil
purpose of providing a subject for small talk for days
afterwards.
Retracing our steps to the corridor, we notice at
the head of the stairs the newspaper- room, separated
by folding doors from the tea-room, where are hung
a number of ancient prints showing the old Palace
of Westminster, the bequest of Sir William I-'ru-ei. Ml'.
MR. 1IKNUY ll. KKSKINK, C.V.O.,
TW SwfMBt^t-Arnii of Ike llcnue of Comniiioi nod Groom
of Ihe Kob« to hi. M^ntjr the King.
253
254
Parliament Past and Present
At tin- extreme cud of (he corridor is the
suite of rooms which comprise tin- Library.
:i full reference to which is made in a special
chapter. Turning back and proceeding again
lo the L-il)bv. \\e see the meiiil>ers' private
staircase, which affords a direct outlet from
the Commons to the Cloi>ter- and cloak-room
on the ground floor, and gi\e> BCC868 beside*
to \Ve>t minuter Hall, the Star Chamlit-r
courtyard, and New 1'alace Yard. In the
cloak-room the now familiar tape machi
are at work bringing the late>( ne\\- from the
outer world. Another comparatively modern
innovation is a room set apart for secretarial
work. Here busy members contri\e. in the
intervals of their legislative laliours. to transact,
with the aid of private secretaries, a con-
siderable amount of urgent work, Inith con-
nected with tlieir Parliamentary dntio and
tlieir jirivate business. Typewriters are avail-
able in the building, and the telephone is
also at hand, so that it is ]M>ssible for an
active legislator to make the uimo>t use of his
leisure. A further concession to the spirit of
progress which has been made of late \ ear-
is the provision along the side of the Star
Chamber court of a convenient place for the
storage of bicycles, these modern means of
locomotion being used to a considerable extent
by members. Special accommodation formotor>
has yet to be supplied, but doubtless it will
be forthcoming in the not distant future.
Upon the members' staircase are marble busts of the late Mr. W. If. Smith and the
lamented Lord Randolph Churchill. The latter effigy is placed upon an elevated pedestal
close to the wall, and is a lifelike representation of the statesman in his official robes a.-
Cliancellor of the Exchequer. The artist has happily caught the expression of the noble
lord when in his prime, and the figure seems to look down upon the spot he so frequently
passed.
At the door of the Legislative Chamber, the quaint hooded chairs of the doorkeepers are
placed; here sit the two important officers of the Sergeant -at-Arms guarding the entrance to
the House. Their duties are of a responsible nature. The face of every member is known to
tin-in, and tlieir vigilant eyes are always on the alert lest any strangers should attempt to p
through the doorway. The chief doorkeeper has fitted by the side of his chair a handle, by
which electrical communication ia made with all parts of the building when a division i-
called, bells ringing for two minutes, while the sand-glass on the table of the House runs
down. He also heralds the approach of Black Rod when that functionary appears to summon
the Commons to the Jx>rds, and calls aloud, "Make way for the Speaker!" when that high
]>crsonagc passes out of the House. The door is of massive oak, and on one of the pam-U
a small grating can be uncovered from within, to enable the Sergeant-at-Arms to issue
directions when a division is pnx ding and the door closed and locked. The stone archway
of the door is finely carved, and concealed electric lights bring into prominence the minute
work of the sculptor.
TIIK M-I:AKI;U'S S;:AT, HOIM; or OOMIMM
A beautiful qwclmen of carved oak work.
from a photo by Sir Benjamin. Stont, M.I'.
PART OF THE CLOISTER OF ST. STEPHEN'S CHAPEL,
Now used as a cloak-room for members of the House of Commons.
255
256
Parliament Past and Present
MIWSI'Al'KK-HOOM, HOUSE OK COMMONS.
The papers are arranged upon stands in various parts of the room.
On passing into the House the visitor is struck by its small and unpretentious appearance
in comparison with tin- magnificence of the gilded Upper House. As regards the seating
accommodation, although at times some inconvenience may be felt, the general arrangement*
are deemed sufficient, for a larger House would look desolate with a small attendance of
members, and, moreover, the important question of the acoustic properties had to be carefully
considered in fixing the size. In the House as at present const met eil. any member speaking
IMII be heard without difficulty, and the strain upon an orator is minimised. As to the want of
einlH'llishinent, the House of Commons, it should be remembered, is designed for conducting the
business of the nation, while the House of Lords is the scene of functions in which display and
ceremony play a conspicuous part. But with all its limitations the House of Commons
(•handier is really a handsome apartment. It is of the same width and height as the l.urds.
without any cross benches in the body of the House. The rows of dark green-covereil M'ats. with
the wide gangway in the centre, rise with an easy gradient on each side, and the galleries along
the sides take <>ft' any appearance of bareness. The tine rich oak woodwork, the coloured
decorations of the panels round the galleries, and the relief of the bright brasswork at part-
give the impression of stability and usefulness. The Speaker's Chair, built of elegantly caned
oak, with the massive hood above, is traditional in its construction, and the table of the llou-e.
alto planned like those formerly used, occupy a large >pace of the floor. At the table sits the
Clerk of the House, in wig and gown, with the two a>-i-tant clerks Ix-sidc him. Books for
quick reference are upon the table, and at the end the mace is placed in full \ie\v of all
present, while at either side of the mace are large brass-clamped boxes in which are deposited
the Koll of Parliament signed by members upon taking the oath. The box on the .Ministerial
side of the House, to the right of the Speaker, is exactly opjMisite the seat of the Leader of
the lloiiv. who when shaking frequently strikes emphatically the wood to enforce his
arguments. .Marks of the signet rings worn by Mr. Gladstone are. still to be seen— an
evidence of the "force" of his arguments.
Detailed Description of the House of Commons 257
The chair of the £ergeant-at-Arms, near the Bar, is ahv.iys occupied by that officer or his
deputy when the House is sitting. He is responsible for carrying out the orders of the House
in ease of disorder arising, and he carries the mace to and from the House, and into his charge
offenders against the rules or dignity of the House are committed, he being their custodian
while they occupy the prison house, built in the lower part of the great Clock Tower.
The galleries for members running along the sides of the House under the large windows
are chiefly used when the House is crowded, but it is contrary to custom to speak from this
position, though upon occasions members have astonished the House by standing up and
asking questions of Ministers, who have replied to them. At the end of these galleries, close
to that of the Press, seats are allotted for the Chaplain of the House and the Speaker's private
secretary, and near the end, joining the Distinguished Strangers' and Peers' Galleries, clerks and
officers of the House by usage may occupy seats.
The Peers' Gallery is on the Government side of the House, and runs from the clock in
the centre to the west wall. The King, when Prince of Wales, was not an infrequent visitor,
and occupied the seat of honour over the clock. Ambassadors, judges, and other privileged
personages are accommodated in the front gallery, running from the centre to the east wall,
and immediately behind them seats are found for other distinguished visitors, admission to these
galleries being controlled by the Speaker. The remaining part of the gallery, providing one
hundred and fifty seats, is for strangers, who are admitted on personal application to the Speaker's
secretary by a member of the House. Behind the gallery may be noticed a screen similar to that
at the other end of the House in front of the Ladies' Gallery, and this conceals a single row
of seats, also for ladies, the Sergeant-at-Arms having the privilege of granting admission to it.
The better-known Ladies' Gallery is divided into two parts. One side is at the disposal
of the Speaker's wife, who has at her command a number of seats for personal friends.
H.R.H. the Princess of Wales and other Royal ladies, wives of Cabinet Ministers, and other
leaders of fashion, usually have the entree. The other parts of the gallery are at the disposal of
MEMBERS' SMOKING-ROOM, HOUSE OP COMMONS.
Games of chess arjd draughts are played in this room.
33
258
Parliament Past and Present
im-iiiU-rs but so limited is the accommodation that a ballot for places takes plan- a week
in advat
1'ntler the galleries on either side of the door, the back row of seats below tin- I'.ar i-
reserved f«r priv.it.- >ecretaries of Mini-tcrs and chief ]>ermanent officers of public depart incut-.
wboee aid N indi^H-i^able to the .Ministers. The doors to these scats are just at tin- entrance
and U-M.le tin- inner swing-doors of tin- House. It \\a< at tin- Ix.ttom of tin- steps on the
.Ministerial >ide of tli.- lloii>«- that some years ago a miscreant (.laced flic dynamite which
t-xplod.-d ami wrecked a jiortion of tin- House, bringing down the entire front gallery.
The ceiling of tlie Hou-e. hori/ontal in the centre and sloping at the sides and end-.
titt.-d with jam-Is of jiale. ..loured ijlass and coloured designs. Behind the j,'la>> ai
liijhtiii),' arrangement s. and the \i>it..r at nii;lit is struck with the Ix-autiful way the whole
l|ou-e i- lighted. 'I In- strong gas-limits, \\itli powerful reflectors, shine with equal ];..wcr tlimn^h
the tinted glass. The ornamental pendants have rings of jets concealed. Behind each pillar
suplNirtini; the galleries, and in various otherwise dark corners, small electric lights are placed.
The whole et). . t N much admired. Not a shadow is to be seen; no glare strains the
the appearance is that given
by mellow sunlight. l-'nun
the hack of the 8 peal
Chair a passage leads t..
Mini-ter>' private rooms and
official residences, and t he-re i-
aUo a private stairca>e gixiiig
access to the I^adies' (iallery.
Surrounding the body of tin-
House the divUion lo!
form part of the main struc-
ture. They arc wide, com-
modious, and well fitted up.
with writing-tables placed
near the bay-windows, and
with l>ookcases along the walls
containing volumes of Parlia-
mentary debates.
The method of taking a
division of the House i~ \ery
simple, yet most etV-rtiu-.
The question being put from
the Chair, strangers withdraw from below the Bar and tellers are api>ointed. The " .\
pass out In-hind tin- Speaker's Chair into the Lobby on the west side of the MOUM-. The
\ »" leave by the main door near the I'ar on the east side, both returning in the oppo>ite
direction to which they enter, but the House is entirely cleared before the doors are opened
for meiiil»-rs to return. Clerks take the names of all passing through, the names In-ing
print<-d with the votes and proceedings. The tellers count the numbers audibly as the members
IMISS them at the doors to return into the H.MIM-. and. the record agreeing with the list taken
by the clerks, the result is reported to the House. It may be mentioned that only >ince
183G have the names of members voting been published, and that formerly all stranger- in
the galleries, including the members of the J'ros. \\ere excluded : hut. as explained in the
chapter on the hi>torv of the admission of the Press, the days of secrecy have gone by, and
publicity in the full light of public opinion takes the place of mystery.
I;I:AXI> STAIHCASK, norsE OK
Vied by memben only. The entrance it in Westminater Hall.
" AYE " DIVISION LOBBY, HOUSE OP COMMONS.
The tellers stand at the end of the Lobby and count the number of members passing through.
"No" DIVISION LOBBY, HOUSE OF COMMONS.
As members pass the desk their names are registered by clerks.
259
CHAPTER XX.
THE /. //;/;. i /,T.
A KE.vrrnF. of the House of Commons little known outside, but keenly appreciated within.
is the Library. I/x-ated in a fine suite of rooms on the main floor, overlooking tin- rivrr. it is
a favoured retreat of tlie more studious memlx'rs, who find it jxissible to associate their legis-
lative lalxmrs with a certain amount of literary or research work. There are many strange
tilings about the Houses of Parliament; but perhaps the strangest is that until well into the
nineteenth century the House had nothing which could be dignified by the name of Library.
What the famous orators of other days, the Walpoles, the Pulteneys, and the Pitts, did without
Mich an arsenal of fact at their elbows as a well-selected collection of books is, it is difficult
now to imagine. Maybe in that period of ]>olitical oratory there was little of real speech-
] in-paring in the legislative precincts. The tu quoque line of political argument had then
not attained to the high development it has since reached, anil there was exiMing none of
the oratorical material from which weapons could be fashioned to confuse and confute an
opponent,
Whatever the cause of the neglect, it is an indubitable fact that, except in an informal.
irregular fashion, no such institution as a Library existed until 1818. In that year it seem>
to have occurred to the House of Commons that it ought to provide some system by which
members might consult Parliamentary papers and other works of reference. Its sense of its
intellectual deficiency was stimulated by the fact, set forth in the preface to the first
TIIK I.1HI1AUY (MAP-BOOM), HOUSE OF COM Mi >\ -.
A gallery runs round the room, from which • view of the Terrace i« obtained.
260
The Library
261
THE LIBRARY, HOUSE OP COMMONS.
This room contains books of general reference and Historical works,
catalogue, issued in 1830, that the books required for the use of Select Committees, consisting
of Acts of Parliament and journals, sessional reports and papers, had accumulated in such
quantity that they were not readily accessible. The plain need was for an official Librarian
who would take charge of and classify such books as were already in the possession of the
authorities, and deal with additions which might subsequently be made. Such a gentleman
was found in the person of Mr. Benjamin Spiller, who held the appointment for a good many
years. At the outset the Library was housed in a small room, known as " the Speaker's
Chamber," some seventeen feet six inches long by sixteen feet nine inches wide. It was situated
between Bellamy's coffee-room and the smoking-room, and, seeing the free and easy manners
which then prevailed, it could not have been a very delectable place for the studious member.
As much as this is to be gathered from the official literature on the subject ; members seem
to have been in the habit of dropping in from one or other of the resorts, bringing with
them no doubt the atmosphere and manners of those establishments. Owing to this cause
a Select Committee was appointed in 1825, and another a year later, to consider the question
of providing more suitable accommodation. A proposal emanating from the latter of these
bodies for the erection of a new Library was adopted, and in 1828 the building was ready
for occupation. So greatly was it appreciated, that before the session was out the Govern-
ment of the day felt constrained to bring forward a vote of £2,000 for the purchase of books
for the establishment. The appetite of members grew on what it fed on. Before another
year was out, like Oliver Twist, they were asking for " more." Again two successive Select
Committees deliberated upon the question of perfecting the Library. The outcome of the
deliberations was a report recommending additions to the collection of books, which was stated
to be especially weak in works relating to law and history. There was certainly room for
improvement, for at the time the entire library numbered only some 4,500 books, and many
of these, no doubt the bulk, were official publications.
Certain additions to the stock were made in consequence of the Committee's findings, but the
262
Parliament Past and Present
HfME,
Who rlgorou»lj advocated Parliamentary anil financial
reform.
fire of 1834. which destroyed tho Library in common with
the Legislative Chamlx'rs. put an cud to the neco-ity
of dealing with tin- matter in tlic form contemplated.
It was no longer a question of additions to the stock of
books, but of building up an entirely new library. \
doubt existed in the minds of leading members as to
what the situation demanded. The Select Commit ice
which sat in 1835 to formulate a scheme for the build-
ing of new Houses of Parliament in its report included
recommendations that there should be a Library consisting
of three rooms, each sixty feet long, and wide and lofty
in proportion, and that there should be in addition ac-
commodation for the Librarian over the Library, or on -
tiguous to it. These directions were borne in mind by
Sir Charles Barry when he framed his designs, lie allotted
a considerable portion of the river frontage on the main
lloor to four beautiful apartments — three for the use of
members and one for the Speaker's pri\ate use. Sik-c-
quent to the opening of the new building in 1852. an
additional room, used at first exclusively as a committee-
room, was equipped for the uses of the Library, and
eventually completely transferred to it. It is now known
under the distinctive name of the "map-room." This suite of apartments would have satisfied
the highest aspirations of the most ardent of bibliophilic members of the pre-Keform times.
Ample in proportions, lofty and airy, and possessing, with the attractions of a delightful outlook,
the advantages of quiet and seclusion, the Library constitutes perhaps the most desirable
establishment of the kind there is in London.
In the daytime the rooms are the lightest part of the building. The large double windows
are so made that perfect quietude is obtained ; the temperature is kept in a suitable condition ;
s|>ecially designed seamless carpets prevent any noise in walking, and the thousands of books
are so conveniently arranged that a new-comer examining
the excellent catalogues can at once locate the jwirticular
work he is in search of. Not only Parliamentary and
historical works of reference are kept, but rare editions of
standard literature can be consulted, every book being
handsomely bound. The Library is under the personal
control of the Speaker, and the Librarian, Mr. Ralph C.
Walpole, whose forbears for generations were connected
with the House of Commons, had had a long experience
of Parliamentary service in various departments of the
House before receiving his present appointment.
Apart from its bibliographical contents, the Library
is of special interest by reason of the fact that there
are to be seen in its confines some curious relics of the
past. Here, under a glass case, is exposed for the
inspection of the visitor a long key, hinged in the
centre, supposed to have been used by Guido Fa\\kes
to obtain entrance to the vaults under the old House
of Lords when he was engaged upon the infamous (iun-
riowder Plot. It was presented bv the Rev. J. Hech, M.A.,
8111 THOMAS KKSKINE MAY, K.C.B. (LORD
FAiisnoHori:n), to "*e 'ate Speaker (Mr. Peel), and by him placed
For a long period cicrk of UK UOOM of commou. '" '' ~ present position. A more important exhibit is a
The Library
263
llilil
THE Lir.KAKY, HOUSE OF COMMONS.
One of the iiuiet comers of the Library to which literary members resort to pursue their avocations.
selection of the manuscript journals of the House dealing with the period of the Revolution.
Ihree memorable episodes are chosen for illustration. First are shown the pages of the journal
which were mutilated by James I. on December 18th, 1621, when, to show his contempt of
the "Protestation" of the liberties of the House made twelve days earlier, he utterly annihi-
lated the offending record. Next is displayed the journal entry concerning the attempted
arrest of the five members on the benches of the House of Commons by Charles I. on
January 4th, 1641-2. Finally there is open for inspection the page of the journal which marks
the dispersion of the House of Commons by Oliver Cromwell on April 20th, 1652. Eloquent
memorials these of times of stress and tribulation in the life of Parliament, and on that
account of absorbing attractiveness. Not improbably the visitor who sees them will be led
to take an interest in the great collection of records of which they form but a very small part,
and for his behoof the erudite Sir Reginald Palgrave, the late Clerk of the House, has got
together some salient facts which may be appropriately given here.
"The manuscript journals of the House of Commons," says this authority, "escaped the
great fire of October, 1834, which destroyed a considerable portion of the ancient Palace of
Westminster. These volumes range in series from the year 1547, the first year of the reign
of King Edward VI., to the year 1800.
"A daily record of their proceedings is essential to the being of a Parliament, and the
existence of journal books of the House of Commons before the year 1547 may be accepted
as a certainty, even if evidence to that effect was not afforded by the statute of 6th Henry VIII.,
which enacted that those members of Parliament who absented themselves from Parliament
without the licence of the Speaker of the House 'entered of record in the book of the Clerk
of the Parliament appointed for the Commons, should be deprived of their wages.'
"The two first journal books, which contain the records of the House of Commons from
the first year of King Edward VI. to the twenty-third year of Queen Elizabeth, were known
to historical students of three hundred years ago as ' Seymour ' and ' Onslow,' the names of the
264
Parliament Past and Present
THE OLD KEY : A BEI.IC OP THE GUNPOWDER PLOT.
clerks who wit, pen in hand, with those books before them on the table of tin- H«>u>«- ; and
that Srvmour may claim to In- tin- most ancient of the inainiM-ript journals of tin- llon»c n!'
Commons is attested by evidence reaching l>ack in time to the year 1041. The learned and
diligent Sir William Midi-will,
who in the year HiUl sat for
- the Cornish eonstitiieney u!
l'..i->iney. states in his Umk.
•The .Mniiner how Statute.-,
are enacted in Parliament.'
published in 1641, that 'the
volume containing the jour-
P nals of the Commons House
of Parliament for the tirst
\ear of King Edward VI. is
the most ancient that they have.' That the series of the manuscript journals should close with
the volume which records the session of 1800 may be attributed, not to official neglect, but
to what may be termed natural causes, to that inevitable and most useful resort to the printing
press which increases more and more. . . .
"The manuscript journals of the House of Commons, strongly marked, especially in tin-
earlier volumes, with a picturesque interest, possess no historical value, as they were published
in a printed form more than a century ago. In the year 1742, acting on the report of a
Select Committee, based on information supplied by Mr. Hardinge, the then Clerk of the
House, the Commons ordered the printing of their journals from the commencement of
the manuscript series, and of complete indexes thereto, both general and glossarial. Tin-
undertaking was entrusted to Mr. Richardson, then in the first bloom of 'Pamela, or Virtue
Rewarded,' 'a printer in whose
skill and integrity ' Mr.
Hardinge could ' confide.' The
journals were printed in Roman
letter upon 'fine English
demy,' worth 1 5s. a ream ;
and the outlay thus com-
menced reached in the year
1825 a grand total of between
£160,000 and £170,000."
These references to the
journals recall the circum-
stance that in the Library is
perpetual cd, by means of a
lm>t, the memory of the late
Sir T. Krskine" May (Lord
Karnborough), whose "History
of Parliamentary Practice," based on a lifelong association with the records of the Parliamentary
past ami a career of many years at the table of the House, is the standard authority on all
that concerns the work of Parliament. The memorial is particularly appropriate in the position
it occupies, as it was as Assistant Librarian from 1831 to 1847 that this eminent ofh'cial laid the
foundations of that profound knowledge of the procedure of Parliament which he subsequently
turned to such good account.
THE MANUSCRIPT JOURNALS.
The actual records of three great event] .hiring the Stuart ix-riod.
Millai'. I'.K
A YEOMAN OF THE GUARD.
One of the famous cot: ' uliiJi, .n i!K O|tninj; .>! every SC.SSJ.MI. scjrclu-s ilic
Vjults of ihc HOUM.-. <if I'jrli.imu'.t lor cxplosi
CHAPTER XXI.
BELOW STAIRS AT ST. STEPHEN'S.
THOSE who only know the Houses of Parliament as visitors hardly realise how immense is
the area devoted to what may be termed the domestic services of the two Houses. In
what, familiarly speaking, may be called the basement of the Palace is quite a new world,
peopled with officials and servants who never come into the blaze of the footlights, but
who nevertheless play an important part in the staging of the great legislative drama.
The heating, the lighting, and the ventilating arrangements of the vast building are all
manipulated from here ; and also on this level are the kitchens, the wine-cellars, and the
other essential adjuncts of that social and festive side of Parliamentary life which has been
sketched in earlier chapters. Only the very Old Parliamentary Hands on the staff know
thoroughly this locality in all its many ramifications. It is a wondrous maze of passages and
courts, murky apartments, and musty cellars and storerooms, bewildering in the multiplicity o'
its details, but an indispensable part of Barry's mighty plan.
On the morning of the opening day of every session there is a solemn function enacted
in these nether regions of the Palace. From the Tower comes a detachment of Yeomen of
the Guard in the full glory of their picturesque uniforms. Attended by the Deputy Great
Chamberlain, the police and other officials, they make a close inspection of every nook and
corner of the place with intent to discover whether any stray ban-els of gunpowder or dynamite
bombs have been surreptitiously placed there by evil-doers. Provided with lanterns and
carrying halberds, the worthy Beefeaters make their tour, which usually lasts nearly two
hours. It is terminated by a pleasant little ceremony, in which the Sovereign's health is
drunk in a glass of good wine. This custom dates from the days of the first Bellamy, who
THE GUNPOWDER CONSPIRATORS.
From a print published immediately after the discovery of the plot.
265
34
266
Parliament Past and Present
AN l.n HIM; IIY I.K'iKi.i: CUI 1KSHANK,
the eorwplraton rxravatinjj the tunnel from tt.f
• :n old Palace Van! rented IIJT them prior to their obtaining
i of the relUr under the llonw of l.ord«, where the
cuti|owder wu ultimately )'Urr<l.
kept ;i wonderful cellar of wines under the old
i|oii-e o! Commons. 'Hie worthy Boniface would
meet tin- inspecting jiartvon it- round- ;iml would
invite tlielll to simple the content" of the Kittles
liv which they were surrounded. When the fire
of 1SIM tlroM- N|i •--!•-. Bellamy's bu-ine<s on1
the legislative precincts. fir>t to the vaults IM-I,.
the Sr--ions HOIIM- at We-tmiiister. ami aflerw
t<i Parliament Street, the hospitable u-:r_-e \\a-
discontinued, as it might have lieen. '1 he 'I.
\\ere invited to the tirin's new headquarters, and
there each year since they have had their cake
and wine and toa>tei) their Sovereign with liecumini;
ent hu-iasm.
It is. of cnui'M'. to (iuido Fawkes of infamous
memory that we are indebted for this annual
appearance of the Yeomen of the (itiard at St.
Stephen's. That historic conspirator so nearly
Mirceeded on One memorable Fifth of No\em!,er ill
blowing tlie estates, of the realm in Parliament to
the skie.-. that it was deemed neces-arv liv t lie
... .« . . r *,.'
authorities to take the precaution of searching the
vaults prior to the opening of every ses>ion. in
order to preclude the ]Kissihility of explosives lieinij
placed there. The (iiui]io\vder Plot, as it has ever lieen familiarly known, has not the
fa-i-inatioii it once had for the ]>opiilar mind. But from the place it occupies in Parliamentary
annals it merit-, more than a passing reference in a work of this description. The con
spiraey had its origin in the penal legislation against Konmn Catholics which followed tli
ion of James I. Brooding over the wrongs inflicted ujton their co-religionist-, a
of fanatics consisting of Robert Catesby, Joh
Wright, and Thomas Winter conceived the idea
wreaking a terrible vengeance on the Kin- ai.
Parliament which had sanctioned them. (iuii
Fawkes was early initiated into the plot, as wel
as another staunch Roman Catholic named Thorn;
Percy. They both eagerly entered into the con
spiracy, as did others who were at
periods invited to join.
The first step towards the execution of flu
diabolical scheme \\;i- taken on .May 2-4th. 16C
when Percy, acting under Catesby's instruction?-
hired a tenement, at the south-ea>t corner of Oil
1'alace Yard, adjoining the House of l^onl-. the
idea being to construct a mine to the vaults undr
that apartment. A meeting of the commissioner
ap]K>intcd to discuss the terms of the I'liion
Kngland with Scotland temporarily der.mged t
conspirators' plans, and it was not until Decembr
llth. 1G04, that they found themselves in a po-iii.
to commence operations. On that day. having
in a More of provi.-ions to save them from
necessity of going abroad, thev started to excavate.
AV i .i" HIM; IIY (iK(iKc;f: cm IKMIANK,
MR Ouj Fi*ko LIT Ins the train of gunpowder in readme**
(• i ih» final act.
Below Stairs at St. Stephen's
267
Their labours were from time to time interrupted by fancied sounds, the creation of their
superstitious fears ; but the work, nevertheless, proceeded steadily. For a fortnight the con-
spirators, reinforced by three kindred spirits, kept at their posts below ground, only Fawkes,
who acted, as sentinel, showing himself in public. About Christmas information was obtained
that Parliament would not meet until October instead of in February, as was originally
arranged ; and consequently the work was suspended and the conspirators separated for a few
weeks. When they again came together in February an incident occurred which greatly
facilitated the execution of their designs. This was the renting from a coal-dealer named
Bright of a cellar which was actually below the House of Lords. The acquisition of this
place rendered the construction of the mine unnecessary, and so, abandoning the excavation,
the conspirators proceeded to prepare more directly for the carrying out of their plot. Thirty-
FACSIMILE OP THE LETTER TO LORD MOXTEAGLE,
The delivery of which resulted in the discovery of the plot.
six barrels of gunpowder were brought across from Lambeth and stored in the recesses of the
cellar, and upon them were placed faggots and rubbish, so as to conceal the tell-tale store from
prying eyes. By May all was in readiness for the fatal stroke, and once more the party
separated. They met again at different times, and by Michaelmas the final arrangements
had been made for the momentous day, which proved to be November 5th. Sir Everard
Digby, Ambrose Kookwood, and .Sir Francis Tresham, who had been brought into the conspiracy,
were entrusted with the duty of providing armed men to second the efforts of the plotters
alter the explosion had occurred. Upon Fawkes devolved the dubious honour of firing the
train by means of a slow match. It was contemplated that the fuse would burn fifteen
minutes, sufficiently long to enable Fawkes to cross the river to Lambeth and make good his
escape to the Continent with the good news of the punishment of the tyrants.
268
Parliament Past and Present
So fur. everything promised well for the
desperate venture, anil there is small doubt
that success would have crowned it, luul not
one or two of the conspirators almost at the
la-t moment felt qualms of conscience at in-
volving some of their friends in the general
ruin which they destined for Parliament.
The advisability of informing these of their
danger was di.-cu>sed. and it \va- agreed that,
short of a specific warning, everything should
be done to induce those for whom concern
was felt to give the ] louse of Lords a wide
berth on the opening of Parliament. A- an
outcome of these deliberations, bird Monteagle
received on October 26th a letter in a strange
handwriting entreating him to absent him>elf
from attendance on the King on November 5th.
Perplexed at the mysterious terms of the
communication. Lord Monteagle " repaired to
Whitehall to the Erie of Salisbury, his
Maje>ty's principal Secretary, whom he found
in the company of the Lord Admiral 1, the
Erie of Suffolk^, the Erie of Worcester and
Erie of Northampton, ready to go to supper.
and then drewe the Erie of Salisbury asyde
into another chamber and imparted to him
the letter." The significance of the document
was quickly recognised, and it was not long
before the character of the plot was divined.
But it was decided to make no arrests until
the day before the meeting of Parliament,
when the conspirators would have matured
their plans. A preliminary search of the
cellars by the Earl of Suffolk, who was ac-
companied on the occasion by Ixjrd Monteagle, aroused the suspicions of the conspirators, and
Fawkes, on the evening of November 4th, went off to give the alarm to Percy. Returning
at midnight to his post, he was arrested by Sir Thomas Knvvett, a Westminster magistrate,
who, with an armed force, was awaiting him. The murder was now out. It required only a
brief examination of the cellar to discover the barrels of gunpowder, the slow match, and a
dark lantern ready lighted for operations. Fawkes was promptly taken to Whitehall to the
bedchamber of the King, where were assembled all the Lords of the Council, the Lord
Chamberlain, and the Lord Admiral. Here, after orders had been given to make all doors
fast, the prisoner was interrogated. Maintaining a defiant, almost a truculent, demeanour, lie
replied to the questions put to him with remarkable sang-froid. He declined to state who
were his fellow-conspirators, and said that his only regret was that the explosion had not
taken place. Asked by the King whether he did not regret his attack on the Royal Family,
he observed that desperate d leases required dangerous remedies. A Scotch noble inquired
why he had prepared so many barrels of gunpowder. "To blow Scotchmen back to Scotland,"
returned the imperturbable Fawkes. Perceiving that nothing was to be got out of the prisoner,
the King committed him to the Tower. There other and more effectual means were adopted
to secure the information required. Put to the torture of the nick. Fawkes broke down
completely. He confessed everything, afterwards .-etting his trembling hand to the document
from a photo l>;t Tlioituu Lttcit, JHnninpham.
AN AttCH OF THE CELLAR UNDER THE OLD HOUSE OF
LORDS IN WHICH THE GUNPOWDER WAS PLACED BY GUY
PAWKES AND HIS BROTHER CONSPIRATORS.
The photograph U from the original arch re-erected in the Sir John
Soane .Museum.
Below Stairs at St. Stephen's
269
^
upon which his statements were recorded. Subsequently, on January 27th, 1605-6, in
company with six other conspirators, he was arraigned before a special commission on the
charge of high treason in Westminster Hall, and condemned to death. Sir Everard Digby was
afterwards brought to trial separately and condemned. On January 31st Fawkes, Winter,
Rookwood, and Keyes were brought to Old Palace Yard,
where, on a scaffold erected immediately opposite the scene
of their crime, they were executed with the terrible ac-
companiments which were then associated with the traitor's
doom. Thus closed an episode which has perhaps left a
more vivid impression upon the popular imagination than
any other event in Parliamentary history.
After this somewhat lengthy reference to the great plot,
the memory of which is so curiously preserved in the cere-
mony of search by the Yeomen of the Guard, we may say
something about the purely modern aspects of this Underground St. Stephen's. First and fore-
most to claim our notice are the arrangements for ventilation. These have from time to time
provided the material for hot controversy. At the very outset there was serious trouble on
the subject between Sir Charles Barry and Dr. Reid. The latter was specially appointed
by the Government to deal with the ventilation of the building, and there was continual
clashing between him and the great architect, who took umbrage, not without considerable
justification, at the large independent powers conferred upon his rival. At length the work
was completed at enormous cost and a lavish expenditure of the time and temper of all con-
THE SIGNATURES OF GUY FAWKE&
BEFORE AND AFTER TORTURE.
•MBttUiM £- lt>4' •
.J«5~1: — L.
From a photo by Henry IF. Taunt, Osj'urd. At/yv.stin Kuchgitz Collection.
OLD LANTERN PRESERVED IN THE ASHMOLEAN MUSEUM, OXFORD,
Kepntod to be the identical lantern found in the possession of Guy Fawkes at the time of his arrest. It was presented to the University in 1641.
cerned. Since then the question has been a prolific source of bickering and dissension. In
the House the system has been fiercely assailed, and outside it experts have agreed to differ
as to the efficacy of the highly scientific system established. Committees have sat from
time to time to consider the question in all its phases, and on their recommendation various
changes have been made, with the result that the Parliamentary buildings have now perhaps
the most elaborate and costly scheme of ventilation of any structure in the world. Perfect,
however, it can hardlv ever be, because of the enormous difficulties which have to be faced
270
Parliament Past and Present
i:xi:cr-rioN OK SOME OF TIII: <;UNI>OWDER CONSPIRATORS AT TYBURN.
From a contemporary and Bomewbat fanciful Dutch print.
in the lowness of the site, the prolonged sittings of the Commons, and the fluctuating character
of the attendance.
The first alt er.it ion made in l)r. Keid's scheme was carried through under Sir (ioldsworthy
(iuriiev'.- supervision in 1854. In that year the Victoria Tower and the Clock Tower. inMead
i if hfinir used, as liitherto. for taking in the fresh air, were put to service as upcast shafts
for getting rid of the vitiated air, the fresh air supply being obtained from gratings in
the courtyards of the building. This system, although an improvement, did not give complete
Mitisfactii.n. and further investigations at different periods were made without remedying tin-
evils complained of. Matters became so bad that one evening the late Lord Randolph Churchill
induced the House of Commons to adjourn in the middle of a debate, as a protest against the
foulness of the ;;t n:o>pl:ere. The result of invest igat ions by experts was that the present s\>tem
wa- adopted, an explanation of the main points of which, aided by the illustrations, will
a general idea of the trouble taken to purify the air.
One of the main improvements, suggested by .Mr. William J. Prim, the resident engineer.
who for many years had the ventilating and lighting arrangements under his care, was that
the greateriK.rtion of the air for ventilating purposes should be taken in at the Terrace on the
river side of the building. The system wa> adopted, and extending along the six hundred and
eighty feet of Terrace frontage are thirty-five opening?, into a corresponding number of inlet
Air chambers. Into the-e chambers, which are provided with waterproof tloor- co\ered with lead.
the air COmeS, and pa— es lii-st through spray jets of water, and is then transmitted to \arimis parts
of the building. Certain of the air inlet chambers are devoted exclu-ivelv to the ventilation
of the debating chamber of the House of Commons, the air passing along a special passage or
gallery, the roof and walls of which are protect cl from the wash of the water issuing from
the jets by screen-; of light open cinva-. also forming a cooling surface with which the passing
Below Stairs at St. Stephen's
271
air comes in contact. At the extremity of this
l«is sage the current of air during hot weather is
brought in contact with ten or a dozen blocks of
ice, each block averaging in weight about two
hundredweight. The air, passing round and about
these blocks of ice, becomes only slightly lowered
in temperature — an excessively low temperature
in hot weather not being desirable. After passing
through the ice chamber, the air is drawn through
a quickly revolving fan or air propeller, and dis-
charged against a rough kind of filter, consisting
of a wide screen of canvas, technically known as
a "scrim," having an area of six hundred super-
ficial feet. This large surface permits a free
jia—ige of air at a low velocity, and arrests any
particles of dust or smuts that have passed
through the propeller, should any have escaped
precipitation of the water sprays. The scrim
being passed, the air finds its way through open-
ings provided with regulating doors or flaps into
a chamber overhead, where, if necessary, the
warming apparatus, consisting of rows of steam-
heating batteries, is brought into play. But it
may be asked, What about foggy weather?
Sprays, ice, scrims, etc., are very well, but at
Westminster the genuine London fog delights
to settle. The fog filter here comes into action,
of two layers of cotton-wool, each three inches in thickness, is invaluable. The air is forced
by means of the propelling fan through this bed of cotton-wool, and arrests and holds in sus-
pension the heavy ] articles of the foggy vapour, while the pure air passes through the large
area of the filtering surface. This interesting process, simple, yet very effective, practically
keeps the fog at bay. Proof of its efficacy is to be found in the fact that the wool becomes
perfectly black after a heavy
fog. But to resume : the pure
air reaching the equalising
chamber immediately below
"the House" — an apartment
corresponding exactly in size
with the debating chamber —
rises through the floor.
Now comes into play an
ingenious arrangement for
distributing the air. In the
equalising chamber is con-
stantly on duty during the
sittings of the House an
attendant whosa duty is, as
it were, to keep his finger
on the legislative pulse. If
there are signs of rising heat,
WOOL USED IN THE VENTILATION DEPARTMENT FOB FILTERING THE AIR. the Supply of COol air IS
On the right the wool U ehofra after being in use for twenty-four hours on a foggy day. increased bv the turn of a
THE FIRE ALWAYS KEPT BURNING AT THE BOTTOM
OF THE CLOCK TOWER FOR THE PURPOSE OF VEN-
TILATION.
The V-shaped filtering apparatus, consisting
272
Parliament Past and Present
valve. Should there In- crowding in any j-art «f the House, an extra supply of air is sent
through tin' Hoor at this particular point, and this without reducing the temperature. Kven
a sudden influx of members to hear a jiopular sj>oaker or a rapid thinning of the House when
business of sjMvial interest is completed receives attention. \Vith the means at hi> co:ninan<l
the attendant on duty is enabled to maintain an equable temperature throughout the whole
area of the Hon-e. To such a nicety Is the system regulated that it has Ix-en known that
the s]K>t tMvupied by a memlx-r in delicate health has had special attention lx->towed upon il.
The air in its upward e.«ui>e pa»es through the floor of the House, composed of perforated
plates of cast-iron covered with a coarse netting of whip-cord, and the vitiated air finds an
exit through the ceiling of the chamber. Thence it passes through flue tubes in connection
with the gas-burners to the air shaft of the Clock Tower, where, with the aid of a stron"
CHAMIIKItS Full THE SUPPLY OF FRESH AIR UNDER THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.
draught created by a huge furnace burning in the basement, it escapes through the top of the
tower at the lantern chamber.
The House of Lords of course shares in all the warming and ventilating arrangements
enjoyed by the Lower House. The general view under the Gilded Chamber embraces some
of the features of that of the Commons, but necessarily less complex is the machinery employed
in a part of the Legislature where all-night sittings are practically unknown.
The great steam boilers are in St. Stephen's Court, near the Central Tower, about mid-way
between the two Houses. Here steam is supplied for general use. ]}e>ides the heating and
ventilating, the kitchens have to be considered, steam and gas being used to a considerable
extent in this department.
Under the Speaker's Green, near the Clock Tower, is placed the ejector sewage chamber.
The system adopted is that known as the Shone hydro-pneumatic, and whatever ground there
may have been in the past for complaint under different conditions, since the present pneumatic
system has been in force no difficulty has been experienced in securing perfect drainage. In
Below Stairs at St. Stephen's
273
can
a. corner of the chamber a model of the ejector is placed, whereby the system in action
be seen. The engine employed for compressing the air for actuating the ejectors is a powerful
specimen of its kind, and the view of the plant as driven by steam-engines shows the general
plan of its construction.
Electric lighting is of course used to a large extent, but the current is chiefly supplied by
an outside corporation, the principal
cables coming into the building at
the south end. The main switchboard
i< situated at the junction of the
company's mains and those of the
Houses of Parliament. The switches
are designed to move in a circular
direction only, so that each time
after the current has been switched
off, on the renewal of the contact
the current becomes reversed, the
cable which had been " positive "
before the movement of the switch
becoming " negative '' afterwards. The
general lighting of the halls, corridors,
and rooms is controlled by the
switches ; but in certain cases, such
as the suspended adjustable lamps
over desks and writing-tables in the
.Ministers', reporters', secretaries', and
clerks' rooms, supplementary switches
are supplied for the use of the occu-
pants, in order to enable them to
obtain light when required and to
extinguish the burners when no longer
wanted without the intervention of
the lighting attendant. In all cases,
however, the current is controlled at
the local switchboard.
Gas is the illuminant used in the Legislative Chamber, sixty-four double-ringed Argand
burners being in action, a single light being placed in the centre of each of the horizontal
ground glass panels of the ceiling. The light is reflected downwards by means of iron concave
reflectors painted with " zinc white," while the products of combustion from each burner are
carried away through an iron pipe and discharged into the uptake of a ventilating furnace
over the Lobby of the House of Commons. Immediately over the gas-burner and between it
and the flue-pipe is a short chimney of clear, well-annealed glass, to enable the entire frame
to be utilised. Beneath each of the glass panels a fine wire is placed to prevent accident from
falling glass should a panel become accidentally cracked. All the framework of the ceiling is
coated with asbestos paint, and every precaution is taken to avoid fire. The consumption of
gas in each burner is twenty-one cubic feet per hour. As the centre of the flame from the
burners rises several inches above the ceiling beams, considerable shadows would ordinarily be
thrown upon the panels forming the slope of the roof through which no light passes. In
order to prevent this, pendants project into the chamber, each having suspended from its
lower end a reflector and, concealed from view, a small gas-ring burner. No products whatever
from the gas-lights are allowed to enter the chamber, while the heat from the ceiling does not
in any way affect the temperature beneath. The effect produced by these lighting arrange-
ments within the debating chamber is extremely satisfactory, a soft and mellow light being
35
BIG FAN EXHAUSTER. VENTILATING DEPARTMENT.
A feature of the elaborate machinery utilised for the ventilation of the Houses of
Parliament.
274
Parliament Past and Present
diffused in every j»art. Heneath
the L,':illeiie-, which extend the
whole length and width of the
duunber, -in. ill lights art* placed
in order that the general lighting
from overhead may not east a
shadow ii|Hin the back rows of
the memlKTs' seats. These lights
are out of view from the body of
the House.
From what 1ms been stated
it will be gathered that a highly
• •>m| 'lirat r<l organisation has its
home in the lower regions of the
Houses of Parliament, and that
legislators owe much of the health
and comfort which they enjoy
in the daily discharge of their
duties to the assiduity and skill
of the permanent engineering
stuff in the working of the
arrangements. Criticisms have often been [Missed upon some of the features of the ventilating
machinery, and even the efficacy of the system itself has been called in question. But then-
is every reason to believe that, having regard to the natural difficulties presented bv the
lowness of the situation of the Houses of Parliament, a real scientific success has been achieved
by those to whom the work has been entrusted. Certainly there is no other great building
in the world upon the ventilation of which so much ]uiinstaking care lias been bestowed.
r.IXCTIilC SWITCHES UNDER THE HOUSE OF LORDS.
THE HADIATOItS UNDER THE HOUSE OP LORDS.
CHAPTEE XXII.
THE CLOCK TOWER AND BIG BEN.
THE Clock Tower of the Houses of Parliament is to-day the most familiar landmark in West-
minster ; but. though modern in construction, it is the representative of hoary traditions. For
more than five centuries a clock tower looked out on the great world which centred at the
Palace of Westminster, and to it generations of Londoners turned as to an institution charged
with invaluable functions in a day when public clocks were of extreme rarity and watches
were practically unknown. It is to be seen in Hollar's drawing of New Palace Yard— a square
massive structure, rising in the centre of and high above the line of low buildings which
formed the eastern side of the space. The exact site is not now easy to determine ; but we
shall not be far wrong if we assume that it stood at the Parliament Street end of the ground
now occupied by Parliament Chambers.
A curious and, it is believed, true story is associated with the foundation of this ancient
clochard. According to the chroniclers, it had its origin in an episode in which Sir Ralph
Heigham, Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench, figured to his disadvantage. This judge
altered a court record with intent to relieve a poor man of a part of his liability, and the
circumstance becoming known, he was fined eight hundred marks by the King for so grave a lapse
from the path of judicial duty. The money, by one of those whimsical impulses which marked
the careers of our mediaeval Solons, was
applied to the erection of a tower to ac-
commodate a clock, the bell of which, striking
the hours, would be an ever-present reminder
to the judges in the adjacent Courts " to
indifferently administer justice." In order
to give greater point to the lesson conveyed,
the dial bore the legend, " Discite juslitiam
moniti." That the legend associated with
the Clock Tower was cherished long after the
erring Heigham had passed away is shown
by an anecdote related of two Elizabethan
judges. Some matter had come before them
in which an alteration of the records was
involved. One was inclined to favour the
change projwsed, whereupon the other de-
murred with the observation, " Brother, I
have no mind to build a new clock tower."
It is stated by some authorities that
this Westminster clock was the first public
clock erected in England ; but there is
reason to think that some of the cathedrals
have prior claims to the honour of introducing
to the commonalty the mechanism of a
striking clock. Unquestionably, however, the
Westminster clock was a very early and
interesting example of horological science.
OLD CLOCK TOWER, WESTMINSTER, FROM HOLLAR'S DRAW-
INO OP NEW PALACE YARD.
The ancient prototype of the present Clock Tower. In it was bung the
famous bell known as " Great Tom of Westminster."
275
276
Parliament Fast and Present
It had a boll of great size, whose sonorous tones could be heard as far as the City when the
wind was in the right direction. First dubbed "Edward" in coiii).liincnt to the Confessor, it
after the Reformation became familiarly known by the name of "Great Tom," in allusion, it
i* conjectured, to the depth of its note. For centuries the bell tolled forth the hours and
filled a place in the popular affections. A singular story associated with it is that of the
sentry on duty at Windsor Castle during the reign of William III. who. charged with sleep in.,'
at his post, saved himself by the defence that he heard the clock strike thirteen instead of
twelve. According to the statements published at the time of the man's death, the a»«-rtion
as to the wrong striking of the clock was at first disbelieved by the Court owing to the
great distance which the sound had to travel; but after his condemnation hy the court-martial
several reputable persons came forward and made affidavits to the effect that the clock did
actually strike thirteen, whereupon the King granted a free pardon to the prisoner.
GALLERY OVEB CLOCK FACE, BIO BEX.
The figures photographed in the picture supply a means of ganging the size of the architectural ornamentations, which appear very small from th«
ground level.
The aberration of the clock thus celebrated indicates that it had with the lapse of age
become decrepit. Colour is lent to this theory by a transaction carried through on August 1 st .
1698, by which the Vestry of St. Margaret's, Westminster, received a grant of the clochard
under the Privy Seal, with the right, apparently, to dispose of it as they deemed best. Some
little time afterwards the old tower was pulled down under the direction of Sir Christopher
Wren, and the bell was transferred to St. Paul's, with the intent that it should have a place
in the great building then approaching completion. Its immense weight — it scaled 82 cwt. 2 qrs.
21 lb.— made the removal over the indifferent roads with the means then available a matter
of great difficulty. All went well until it reached Temple Bar, when a sudden lurch of the
carriage brought the great piece of metal violently to the ground, irremediably injuring it.
The bell was recast in 171G by Whitman, and, after remaining for some years in a shed in
the Cathedral Yard, was hoisted to its position in the Western Tower, from whence its deep
Fi-omaphoto by W. S. Campbell. Copyright, Hulchinton it Co.
THE CLOCK TOWER, FROM THE BOOP OP WESTMINSTER HALL.
The view from this position is one of the most striking that is obtainable.
277
278
Parliament Past and Present
notes now sound out upon London. The
clock disappeared — whence no one knows.
M.i-t ]>roltul>ly it wa- relegated to the
rubbish-heap, as many other intere-t ing
relics of old I»ndon have been >ince.
When Harry drew up his plans for
the new 1'aliice of Westminster, he MTV
hap])ilv revived the memory of West minster's
ancient institution by making a clm-k tm\er
a leading feature of his design, lleattaelied
much importance to the structure, and
devoted especial p:iins to its const met ion.
In the reMilt we have the stately edifice
.-oaring in its solid majesty more than
three hundred feet aliove the river. The
tower is best seen by the spectator when
lie approaches it from the Surrey side of
Westminster Bridge. From that point it
Mauds out 'in bold outline, its imposing
appearance giving the impression of a
greater altitude than it really possesses,
At the base of the tower burns a tire for
the purpose of creating a draught in the
ventilating shaft which rims up the build-
ing. At a slightly higher elevation, on a
level with Hridge Street, are the apartments
which constitute the Parliamentary prison.
Of this institution and its occasional occu-
pants we shall have something to say later.
Meanwhile, it is sufficient to state that, as
prisons go, the place is comfortable enough ;
but prisoners are sadly disturbed by tin-
striking of the great clock, the bells of which
produce a particularly disagreeable vibration.
A- perhaps becomes its position as one
of the principal clocks in the world, the
great clock of Westminster was cradled in
strife. About it raged for years a tierce
controversy — or, rather, controversies, for
there were a series of them — which enyaLieil
the close attention of the Ministry of the
dav and even of Parliament itself. The
history of the struggle as related in the
voluminous Parliamentary papers is not
without interest, and occasionally amuse-
ment, for the public of to-day. The person-
alities which were freely exchanged between
the contending parties are reminiscent
_^___________ rather of Katanswill than of Westminster:
i mi -i in- OF TUB CLOCK TowEB. the moods iii wliich the contesting parties
are shown are characteristic inure of the
boudoir than of the workshop or of the Senate Mouse. Viewed now from the calm vantage-
The Clock Tower and Big Ben
279
ground of the historical investigator, they excite wonder that such heat should have been
engendered over so prosaic and business-like a matter.
At the outset the disputation was as to who should make the clock. Barry favoured Mr.
Vulliamy, the clockmaker to the Queen, the constructor of the Windsor Castle clock, and the
descendant of a race of tradesmen who had basked in the sun of Royal favour in unbroken
line from the reign of George II. Mr. G. B. Airy, the Astronomer -Royal, supported the
interests of Mr. Dent, chronometer-maker of the Strand, the designer of the Royal Exchange clock,
which he asserted was " the best public clock in the world." A third Richmond appeared in
the field in the person of Mr. Whitehurst, of Derby, described as "a man of reputation in
the North of England, and known as the inventor of the ' Watchman's clock.' " Mr. Vulliamv
had the advantage of the start. He was asked by Barry to prepare plans and specifications of
a suitable clock, and he did so in the full expectation that the work of construction would
BIG BEN : TUh CLOCK WORKS.
In the perfection of its mechanism the clock stands high amongst the great clocks of the world, if, indeed, it is not at the very head.
come to him. But he was soon undeceived on this point. An intimation was conveyed to
him that there would be a competition for the honour, and that the Astronomer-Royal would be
the referee. This was enough for the independent old clockmaker, who is stated by Mr. Airy,
in one of his official communications, with some truth, to have had an " unmanageable temper."
He wrote promptly declining to enter into any competition, partly on general grounds, partly
because he objected to the appointment of the Astronomer-Royal as sole referee — that gentleman
having "shown himself to be strongly prejudiced in favour of an individual known for many
years as an eminent maker of marine chronometers, but who has only within the last three
years turned his attention to making public clocks."
Mr. Vulliamy's retirement left Mr. Dent and Mr. Whitehurst face to face. But there was
never any serious rivalry between the two. Aided by the Astronomer-Royal's powerful
patronage, and further assisted by the extreme lowness of his estimate — £1,500 — Mr. Dent had
things practically his own way. Before, however, the business was closed, an incident occurred
280
Parliament Past and Present
which went near causing his withdrawn! from the scene. This was (lie giving out of orders
for some of the smaller clock* in the Palace to Mr. Vidliamy. In indignation at the
recognition of his rival he intimated his intention to retire from the competition. Finally an
assurance wan given him that no further favours should be In-stowed on Mr. Vidliamy. and.
•.ui-ri.-d with tlie pledge, he once more entered the arena, to reeeiu- eu-ntually his reward in
the »hn|N> of the contract for the construction of the clock.
Now commenced another and sharer controversy relative to the clock. Before the contract
was finally given out in 1852, the Government had assoeiated with tin- Astronomer- Koyal as
referee Mr. Kdmund Beckett Denison (the present I^ml (irimthorpe). This gentleman had gi\en a
profound study to the subject of elockmaking. and had acquired a knowledge of the meehanieal
side of the question not inferior to that of the professional expert. To these practical gifts he
added a verv prettv fncilitv for vigorous controversy. A sjiade in his eyes \\a> a spade, and
such he was wont to call it. His lighting instinct-, as well as his technical lore, were called
into plav soon after he had entered ii|>on the scene a- an a-soeiate of .Mr. Airy. The cause of
offence \va> a memorial ] re-
sented hy the Worshipful
Company of Clock makers
expressing surprise that the
order for the clock had been
given direct to Mr. Dent
under the immediate direct ion
of the Astronomer-Royal and
Mr. Kdward ISeckett Denison.
a barrister, in place of sub-
mitting it, as was originally
intended, to competition.
An attack was made on Mr.
Dent's reputation in the me-
morial, and there was also a
sharp thrust at Mr. Denison.
whose competence to judge
in such a mutter was im-
pugned, and who was charged
with engineering an -extrava-
gant puff" of himself in
connection with the Crystal Palace clock, the design of which he furnished to Mr. Dent.
A reply was forthcoming from Mr. Denison couched in very plain language. It was the
plainer because — as a result, it seemed, of the memorial — an additional referee had been
appointed in the person of a Mr. Stephenson. Mr. Vidliamy was singled out as the in-
stigator of the memorial, and to show his animus a remark of his was cited to the effect
tliat "Mr. Dent will never make that clock." Scornful reference was made to the capacities
of the memorialists to judge clocks as illustrated by a eulogy of the thirty-hour clock at
the Hotel de Ville, Paris, and they were told that if ever they examined that clock at
all -they do not at this moment understand either the nature or the object of its con-
struction." As for the additional referee. Mr. Denison flatly declined to act with him. and he
told Lord John M-umers (who had succeeded to the First Commissionership of \Vorks) that
"there was no jiower now existing in anylx>dy to subject Mr. Dent to the control of any other
persons, besides those to whom he is subjected by his contract." Hetorts, by no means all of
the courteous order, followed, and for months the fiery controversy raged. Before it quite died
out new conditions arose, and with them fresh matter for dispute. First came the death of
Mr. Dent, bringing in its train a legacy of legal difficulties with reference to the contract,
which were only settled after prolonged correspondence and a reference to the Law Officer- of
TIIK MECHANISM FOR STIUKIXG BIG BEX.
Though tb« arrangement* are extremely complicated, they very rarely get oat of order.
The Clock Tower and Big Ben
281
the Crown. Then followed a sage discussion amongst the pundits of the Treasury as to whether
the contractor for the clock was entitled to be paid his charges at the time agreed upon despite
the fact that owing to the delay in building the tower the condition precedent stipulated —
that the clock should be fixed and completed in February, 1854 — had not been fulfilled. Close
upon this controversy came a rupture between Mr. Airy and Mr. Beckett Denison, culminating,
after a brisk correspon-
dence, in the resignation
of the former.
Meanwhile, a con-
stant battle was pro-
c e e d i n g between the
clockmakers and Mr.
Denison on the one
hand, and Sir Charles
Barry and the Office 'of
Works on the other, as
to the structural features
of the tower, and the
exact rights of the former
to be consulted upon
them. When this had
been settled after a
fashion, difficulties arose
over the construction of
the hands. They were
first made of cast-iron,
and proved too heavy to
be put up. Afterwards,
when lighter ones of
gun-metal had been made,
they were so fixed that
they fell over a minute
or two every time after
they pasted the vertical.
The last, in some
respects the greatest,
trouble was appropriately
over the big bell. There
was an acrimonious
correspondence as to who
should cast this adjunct
of the clock and who
should superintend the
work, and when these
points had been settled
and " Big Ben " — so named after Sir Benjamin Hall, First Commissioner of Works — had been
created, other and more practical worries had to be faced. Brought by sea from the manu-
factory of Messrs. Warner, the bell-founders, at Stockton-on-Tees, the bell very narrowly escaped
finding a resting-place on the ocean bed, owing to a severe storm which overtook the vessel
on which it was embarked. When at length it reached London and had been hung for testing
purjwses at the foot of the Clock Tower in Palace Yard, the discovery was made that, in
casting, the bell absorbed two tons more metal than had been calculated, and therefore required
36
INSIDE THE CLOCK FACE, BIG BEN.
The view conveys soir.e notion of the immense size of the clock face.
282
Parliament Past and Present
INSIDE THE LANTERN, BIO BEN.
a chipjx'r twice as heavy as that provided.
l>av after day Londoner- were c .lified hv
the clang of " Big Ben." and excitement pre-
vailed in tin- neighUuirhood of \\V-t min>ter.
Crowd- were adinilti-il to sec tin- monster hell,
.i-cu-sic>ns took place among nm-iral
H "V B^^J
\^^ i-\|n-rts as to whether tin- tone of ii \va> true
Jj or not. At len«,Mli. after some inontlis' trial,
M \^^p "i ^ *& ''"' 'i'"'--''"" w:is M'T ;;| r<'>t ''.v ''"' cracking
Br^^Hj / "' t'"' '"'"• I |:i|ii elimination a fault in
fr the easting was diseo\ered. a spot where two
>t reams of metal, \vliich slionld have met. had
never joined. So •• Big Ben " the first was t!is-
earded. to lie recast by .Messrs. Mc.u>. of
NVhitechapel. But the chapter of accidents
wa- not to end yet. Alter the casting opera
lion a flaw revealed itself in the metal. This
seemed likely to make another casting
necessiry. but it was eventually found j>o--i
ble by cutting out a piece of metal to
remedy the defects. The renovated bell wa-
nt last hoisted to its jM-rch in the tower, and
there it has remained for forty-three year-
sounding with its deep bourn the hours, with
only an occasional few days' break, brought
alxiut liv storms or the necessity of carrying out repairs to the clock. The bell weighs thirteen
and a l.alf tons, and the striking clapper weighs seven hundredweight. The four quarter-chime
U-Ils together make nearly eight and a half tons of metal.
The internal arrangements of the Clock Tower merit notice for the ingenuity with which
the architectural features have been made to subserve the purjioses of the clock. Heached by
a winding staircase of three hundred and seventy-four steps is an inner gallery which runs
round the inside of the four huge opal glass clock faces, each of which is twenty-three feet
in diameter. At the back ordinary gas brackets project from the wall, the illumination of
the dials by gas-light being considered preferable to electricity, this illuminant possessing the
advantage of keeping the atmosphere warm round the clock works. The minute hand of each
dial is fourteen feet long, and weigh about two hundredweight. The figures are two feet long,
and the minute spaces each measure a foot square.
Knclosed by the four walls behind the dials, the clock-room fills up a considerable space.
Here all is perfectly clean and orderly, the monster works going smoothly and with little sound.
So careful are the authorities to ensure perfect accuracy in the time kept, that twice a day
the ruling of the clock is automatically telegraphed to Greenwich Observatory in order to
enable the performance of the instrument to U- checked. The pendulum is not touched
unless an error of two seconds is discovered, and this is not a verv frequent occurrence. rlhe
pendulum, which hangs in a chamber of sheet iron as a protection against wind influence,
is thirteen feet long, and licats two seconds. The bob of the pendulum weighs four hundred-
weight. The weights of the clock weigh nearly two and a half tons, and fall about one
hundred and seventy-five feet. The laborious task of winding up the great clock is performed
by two men. who three times a week spend five hours in the clock-room. None of the
various sugge>tions for winding by other means than manual lalxuir have yet met with
approval.
Above tin- clock dials is an ojien gallery which affords a fine view for miles round. The
northern height.* and the .Surrey hills stand out clearly. The Thames Valley is well defined,
The Clock Tower and Big Ben
283
and the river itself seen from this spot sho\vs the windings scarcely appreciated when
travelling upon the surface level. Close by, the parks contrast pleasantly with the mass of
buildings eastward. The river bridges, the embankments and approaches to them, all crowded
with moving traffic, are seen with peculiar fascination from the lofty spot, while a good idea
of the full life and bustle of the western London streets is also obtainable. The grand old
Abbev quite close stands isolated, and seems small compared with the actual space occupied,
and, looking immediately down, the whole plan and arrangement of the Houses of Parliament
is seen in all its completeness. Finally, on the southern side the visitor has a pretty view of
St. Thomas's Hospital and of the Albert Embankment.
In the belfrv behind the gallery swings 41 Big Ben " and the four quarter-bells, and reached
by a ladder going still higher is the monster lantern signal-light always kept burning after dark
when the House of Commons is at work. For many years a lantern of a different construction,
situated slightly higher
than the present one,
was in use. This light
onlv shed its effulgence
over West London, a
display of partiality
which in course of time
gave rise to a consider-
able amount of dissatis-
faction. So great was
the discontent of mem-
bers who had the mis-
fortune to live in South,
East, or North London,
that the Government
deemed it politic to make
the change to the present
system of lighting, which
treats all points of the
compass on an equal
footing. The illuminat-
ing Mppanitus is a lantern
nine feet in diameter
and twelve feet high,
standing in the centre
of an iron chamber
situated about two
hundred and fifty feet
from the ground. It is
equipped with a dioptric
apjifiratus, a refracting
belt of polished glass,
and a Wigham light-
house sixty-eight-jet
burner. The jets are
so placed with regard
to each other that, when
drawn into shape by the
Overhanging flue With ^ famoa< ^u npon Which the hours of the great Westminster clock are struck. It weighs thirteen and
a talc terminal, they a half ton..
284
Parliament Past and Present
produce n solid mass of flame, consuming about two hundred ami forty cubic feet of ^M- an
hour, with illuminating jiower of two thousand four hundred candles. '1 he naked flames from
the burners full without interruption ii[x>n every jiortion of the surface of the dio|>tric apparatus.
and the whole is within tin- Militant ially const nicted gla/cd lantern. The Ixnly of the light
into powerful that on Ix-ing thrown through the o] ten ings between the stanchions supporting
the spire, the princi|ial sii]iiH.ris or the four corners of the tower do not seriously intercept
the rays, but allow a beam of light to U- diffused throughout the entire circle. Mechanical
arrangements are in force for regulating the quantity of gas in use according to the atmospheric
conditions, and a clockwork mechanism is attached to impart flashes to the light if required.
THE BEI.FHY.
Showing a portion of " Big Ben" and the smaller belli upon which the qnartcn are struck.
Although, like the clock, the signal is lighted by a man ascending the tower, a lever. Mtuated
in the ventilating chamljer immediately beneath the floor of the House of Commons, is used
for extinguishing the light directly the Speaker vacates his chair at, the adjournment of
the HOIIM-.
Taking it as a whole, the Clock Tower is one of the most interesting features of the modern
1'alace of We.-t min-ter. Now that the bitter controversies which attended the raising and
equipment of this Mrticture have died away, we can without prejudice or partisanship admire
the U-auty of Harry's architecture and the practical value of Lord (irimt horpe's work upo:i the
clock, which is not only one of the largest timepieces in the world, but is also one of the
line>t in a mechanical j-en>e.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE CRYPT CHAPEL AND CLOISTERS AND THE JEWEL TOWER.
'• A POEM in stone " is the enthusiastic description applied by one writer to the beautiful
little structure beneath St. Stephen's Hall which, anciently styled St. Mary-in-the-Vaults, is
familiarly known at the present day as the Crypt Chapel.1 The term is not misapplied.
Amongst minor ecclesiastical buildings in the country there is none which embodies in a
higher degree the sentiment of architecture. Built in the thirteenth century, in the heyday
of Gothic art, it combines with perfect proportions the most exquisite beauty of decorative
detail. Its clustering masses of carved stone-work, gorgeous in their prodigality of detail, its
windows filled with delicate tracery, its complete harmony of style — these give to the chapel
a charm and a grace which do not fail to strike the least impressionable of visitors.
A SECTION OP THE CBYPT CHAPEL,
Showing the entrance and one of the most elaborate portions of the beautiful stone-work.
It is characteristic of the indifference and neglect ot ancient monuments and works of art
which prevailed during the Georgian period that this magnificent example of decorated
Gothic work was profaned by being put to the basest service. Difficult as it is to credit the
1 A picture of the Crypt Chapel as it now is will be found on page 7 of the Introduction.
285
286
Parliament Past and Present
vandalism which could sanction such a pro-
cedure, it is an undoubted fact tliat for a
great many years it was used as a coal-cellar
and a lumber-room. In this humiliating
condition it might have remained had not
accommodation been required for I-ord Walpole
when appointed Auditor of the Kxcheouer
al-out the middle of the eighteenth century.
It was then cleared out. ivfurbished and
decorated, and devoted to th<> purposes of a
domestic apartment. Subsequently, during
the occupancy of the Chair by Mr. Adding) on
(afterwards Lord Sidmouth), it was by vote
of the House given over to the Speaker,
with adjacent portions of the old Palace, for
an official residence. Its graceful pro] Millions
and fine architectural embellishments sug-
gested its appropriation as a State dining-
room, and to this purpose it was de\nted
for many years. During the period that
the chapel and cloisters were in dome-! in-
occupation, they were shameful! v treated.
•• Whilst the latter were partly fitted for
the appendages of a kitchen, for servants'
offices, and the most menial purjioses. the
area was occupied by a large shed-like
kitchen; part of the exquisite lower oratory
\\as converted into a scullery, and chimney >.
sinks, and closets were cut into or hacked
away without the least regard either to the
stability of the edifice or its architectural
character." *
The fire of 1834, which cleared off the
flimsy accretions of the old Palace like so
much matchwood, raged about the ma»i\e
Norman masonry of the chapel in vain. With
an important section of the adjacent cloisters it emerged practically uninjured. Fortunately, the
circumstances which made it imperative to remove the old walls of St. Stephen's Chapel alx>ve
did not o|M-ratc here. Sir Charles Barry found it possible to build upon the old work, and
his son, .Mr. K. M. Barrv, K.A., by restoring it where it needed restoration, and adding to it
where an extension was sugge.-ted in the interest of harmony, assisted to revive in some degree
the ancient glories of this portion of the old Palace. Most of the alterations were made in
the upper cloisters, now used as a members' cloak-room. These were practically rebuilt, but
so carefully was the work done that a visitor would probably not detect any material difference
between the two sections of the structure.
While the work of restoration was being carried out in 1852, the workmen came upon
tlii- remains of an ecclesiastic embedded in the masonry of the north wall of the crypt. The
body, from its jNisition on the right hand of the altar, and from the fact that a pastoral cm--
was buried with it. was MipjKiscd to be that of some high dignitary of the Church. A
suggestion made at the time wa- that the remains were those of William Lyndwoode, Bishop
of St. l>a\ ill's and Keeper of the Privy Seal, who founded a chantry in the Chapel of St.
1 Braylcy anil Brilton'9 "Ancient Palace of Westminster."
FONT IS THK CKYI'T CIIAI'KI.,
the cliriitrning of one of the promt .Speaker's grand-
children.
The Crypt Chapel and Cloisters and the Jewel Tower 287
Stephen by deed, and died in 1446. This view is supported by a passage in the patent roll of
32 Henry IV., in. 4, which sets forth the terms of a licence, dated July 19th, from the King to
" Robert Pyke, clerk, and Adrian Grenebough, executors of Wm. Lyndwoode, lately Bishop of St.
David's and Keeper of the Privy Seal, for the foundation of a perpetual chantry in the Under-
Chapel of St. Stephen, within the King's Palace of Westminster, for two perpetual chaplains,
or at least for one perpetual chaplain, to celebrate Divine service daily in the aforesaid chapel,
or one of them in the under-chapel (St. Mary's), and the other at the Chapel of St. Mary
de la Pieu, situated near the King's said Chapel of St. Stephen, for the healthful estate of
the King and his Consort Margaret, Queen of England, and their souls when they shall die ;
and also for the soul of the aforesaid Bishop, whose body lies buried in the said under-chapel.''
Whether the body was actually that of the Bishop of St. David's or not, certain it is
that the chapel was used as a place of sepulture, and not in an isolated case, either. It
THE CLOISTERS, HOUSE OP COMMONS.
The clock which in seen on the right of the picture was saved from the fire of the Houses of Parliament in 1834.
follows, therefore, that the appropriation of the building to secular uses was a desecration
which ought not to have been tolerated. Animated by a spirit of greater reverence, the
authorities to-day have appropriated the beautiful structure to the purposes of a private chapel
for the Speaker. Occasional services of a special character are held in the building, as, for
example, when recently the christening of a grandchild of the present Speaker was performed
there.
Associated with the Crypt Chapel, and architecturally in harmony with it, is a beautiful
little chamber known familiarly as the '• Oratory.'' Originally a chantry chapel built by some
pious mediaeval benefactor of St. Stephen's, it has gone through many vicissitudes. One of
the most interesting of its traditions assigns to it the dubious honour of being the place in
which the death warrant of Charles I. was signed. But considerable doubt has been cast upon
this story by historical investigators, who have taken the trouble to trace the circumstances
under which the fatal document was signed. According to the evidence of a witness named
K \vi-r, who appeared at the trial of Henry Marten, the signatures were appended in the
288
Parliament Past and Present
Painted Chamber, and it WM there tlmt occurred the ill-tinned horseplay Ix-tween CVoi
and Marten, during which the two inked each other's faces with the pens with which tlu-v
wrote their name*. Other testimony goes to show that several signature- were in-.
•Bbwquently at Clialloner'* house in Clerkenwell. The ]irobabiliiy is that after the tir.t
dining additional names were introduced to widen the sphere of responsibility, and that
of lbe»e were apjiended to the warrant in the Oratory as well as at Challoner's hon-e.
chamber, however, rtand* in need of no adxentitious aid, such as a picturesque .-torv like thj«
Mipplie* to recommend it to notice. It is nn architectural gem of the piuv-t wai
Mich will always attract the attention of all lovers of beauty.
K\fii older than the crypt and the cloi-ier-. though without any pretension- i
.ir.-hite.-tur.il interest with which those jKirtions of the ancient Palace are in\.--ted. i
>t picture, known as the .lewd Tower. Tucked away, behind the buildings in Old Pal
„• the H.in-e "f I.or.l-. it ea-ily escapes notice. Indeed, comparatively few pe.ijile
• if its i>\j.tenc-. Yet it i-. next to tin- Abbey and Westminster Hall, historically the
int. -resting building in this locality, for it is the sole ]N>rtion of the ancient Palace of V
minster that ha- conn-
to u< in practically it- or
fi.rm. \Valeott -pi-al
of "the age o!' William K'I.
but Sir Gilbert S.-ott pla.
somewhat later — in the •.
of h'ichard II. \Vh;r
]irecise date of the st ru, •
its exceptional antiipiit
beyond ijue.-iion. tor (her.
records extant which
that in 1377 it was gr.mle-l
by the abbot ami convent, with
a small close adjoining it,
Kdward III. It was used le-
thal monarch as a re]K»itorv
for the State jewels, and it
then received the name which
is used to designate it t
present day. In its char-
acter of treasure house it
was the witness of some -i :
incidents. But these do
Come Within the -cope of the
present narrative. Ard
t urally the tower has in. my
points of interest. -The walls."
says Sir Gilbert Scott. '
perfect, cu-n to the pan
and the original diKir
remain, their heads being of
the form called the shouldeiv.1
arch, so much used in d.'in
work throughout the- .Middle
•nn: (iKAToiiv. -Ages, from the twelfth ci'iitury
ltUu«dmpa^lyrt»t«lth.tlnlhUch.mber»n.eof the nbnatura were appended to the death to the fifteenth. . . .A model II
warrant of Chart.. I. vall], ),.,, )„,,.,, jntro,|, „.,.,!
The Crypt Chapel and Cloisters and the Jewel Tower 289
the first floor room, BR
probably as a security
against fire, this room
having had originally
a wooden ceiling; but
fortunately the ground
rooms have been pre-
served intact, with
their original ground
vaults, with moulded
ribs and carved bosses
— evidently a part of
the same work as the
cloisters and other
vaulted sub-structures
of Abbot Littlington."
After serving for
many years the pur-
poses of a treasure
chamber, it was turned
over to the Govern-
ment authorities for
the storage of
records, and came
to be known as the
Parliament Chamber.
It was the depository
of the legislative
archives until the
construction of the
mighty Victoria
Tower hard by
furnished a muni-
ment chamber more
fitted to the needs
of the Imperial
Legislature. But, as
I)ean Stanley aptly
says, the grey fortress
still remains, and,
with the Trcasurv
and Chapter House, forms the triple link of the English State and Church with the venerable
past. "Comparing the concentration of English historical edifices at Westminster with those
at Home under the Capitol, as the Temple of Saturn finds its likeness in the Treasury and
the Temple of Concord (where the Senate assembled) in the Chapter House and refectory, so
the missive walls of the Tabularium, where the decrees of the Senate were carefully guarded,
correspond to the square tower of the Parliament Office, overlooking the garden of the precincts
from which it has long been parted."
During the rebuilding of the Houses of Parliament after the fire of 1834, the tower
formed part of the Speaker's residence, and in 1866 carne into the possession of the Department
of the Board of Trade, and is now used as part of the Government Standards Weights
and Measures Office. An interesting account of the standards and their connection with
37
THE JEWEL TOWER.
The oldest existing portion of the ancient Palace of Westminster. It probably dates back eight centuries.
290
Parliament Past and Present
THi: "I.O STANDARDS, JEWEL TOWER.
Some of the ancient measures preserved by the Standard! Department in the Tower.
Parliament is given by Mr. Henry .1. Chancy in liis recent work,1 from which we learn that
until (Jneen Elizabeth's time tin- standards in use had been those of Henry VII. The legal
standards made by Kli/:iheth continued down to 1824, when a uniform system of weights and
measures was intnxluml by legislation, the outcome of the reports of various I'arliamentarv
inquiries extending over a period of sixty years. In 1825, under the advice of various scientific
authorities, brass copies of the new Imperial standards were made and deposited at the office
of the Kxchcqiier. They became known as the •• Exchequer standards." and are now included
in those of the Hoard of Trade. They had been in the custody of the Clerk of the llmiM- of
('.millions in accordance with a resolution of the House of 1758; but these standards did not
e.-cajM' the ravages of the tire in 1834, and were injured or supposed to have been destroyed
when the Houses of 1'arliaineiit were burned. Later, however, certain of them wen' discovered
in the ruins, among them particularly the yard measure, and they are now preserved, still
under the charge of the Clerk of the House, in a lobby leading to that officer's residence.
reached by a corridor at the back of the Speaker's Chair.
In 1H.14. in consequence of the recommendations of a Koval Commission, new Imperial
standards were made- and duly legalised. The yard and the pound were verified by comparison.
Copies of the new Imperial standards were then de]x>sited in the Houses of Parliament. K'o\al
.Mint. etc.. and they are known as the ••Parliamentary copies." the object being that should
the original standards lx- lo-t or injured, authentic copies can be easily found. By a subsequent
Act of Parliament the "Parliamentary copies" are required to be compared with each other
once in twenty years, and upon the last occasion (1892) .Mr. Speaker Arthur \V. Peel.
acconi]>anied by the high officers of the Board of Trade and the Secretary to the Lord Great
Chamberlain, met together for t he purpose. The ••Parliamentary copies'' of the standards were
removed from their place of de]H>sit within the wall under the blank window on the right-
1 "Treatise on Standard Weights and Measures in use in the ttritish Kinpirr," ls',17.
The Crypt Chapel and Cloisters and the Jewel Tower 291
hand side of the second landing of the public staircase leading from the lower waiting hall
up to the Commons committee-rooms in the new Palace of Westminster, and being compared
with the standards produced by the Board of Trade were declared not in any way destroyed,
defaced, or otherwise injured, but to all intents and purposes in the same condition as when
tht-v were immured in 1872. Subsequently, on the report of Mr. Henry J. Chaney,
the Superintendent of Weights and Measures, they were replaced in their original cases and
boxes in the following manner: The platinum pound was wrapped in Swedish filtering paper,
and was then placed in its silver-gilt case, which in its turn was placed in a square solid bronze
ease; the bronze case was afterwards deposited in a mahogany box, which was screwed clown
and sealed. The immured yard was placed on its eight rollers within a mahogany box, which
\v,-i> also screwed down and sealed. Both mahogany boxes were then deposited within a lead
ease, which was soldered down. Finally, the oak box was put within the cavity in the stone
wall. Before the removal of the standards a mason had carefully sawn through the cement
round the joints of a large stone which closed the cavity, and after they had been re-deposited
-.ime stone was inserted and was grouted in with cement. The brass tablet now upon the
wall records the fact that " Within this wall are deposited standards of the British yard
measure and the British pound weight." This record of the standards makes it evident that
the present Imperial measures, etc., were derived from those of Queen Elizabeth, and these
in their turn from the time of Henry VII., the latter having withstood the changes of four
centuries.
At one period the standards were kept, under the charge of the Chancellor of the
Exchequer, in the Pyx Chapel at Westminster Abbey. The entrance to this i« near the Chapter
House, through massive double doors which are still in a state of good preservation. In
the interior are shown the altar (which, it appears, may have been used for coinage purposes), a
number of old oak presses in which State records were stored, and chests in which the
standards and assays of gold and silver were deposited. Dean Stanley in his " Memorials
of Westminster Abbey" thus describes the Pyx Chapel: "In the east cloister is an
IMPOUNDED FALSE JIKASf ItKti IX THE JEWEL TOWER MUSEUM.
An interesting collection preserved by the Standards Department to illustrate the ingenuity of the fraudulent trader.
Parliament Past and Present
Hiiciriit double door made of oak. each door
having three locks which admit to the
clia]M'l. which was no le>s than tin- Treasury
of Kngliitid — a grand word, which, while it
t'omevs us Kick to tin- most primitive times,
i> \.-i big with the destinies of the piv-.-nt
and tlie future of that sacred body. It was
prolwiblv Immediately after the Conijuc.-t
that tlie Kings determined to lodge their
treasures there, under the guardianship of
the inviolable sanctuary which St. 1'eter had
consecrated and the Ixnies of the Coidei-sor
had sanctified."
Connected with tlie garden which once
existed about the Jewel Tower is a curious
story which I >ean Stanley recalls in his
fascinating work. '-Not far from the tower.'1
he says, •• lived a hermit who formed an
adjunct of the monastic community — an
advanced guard of peculiar sanctity. The
anchorite who occupied this tenement at the
close of the fourteenth century was buried
in a leaden coffin in a small chapel attached
to his cell. A certain William 1'shborne,
keeper of the adjacent Palace, suborned a
plumber of the convent to dig up the
sacred bones, which he tossed into the well
in the centre of the cloi>tcr cemetery, ami
had the leaden coffin conveyed by its iron
clasps to his office. The sacrilege was first visited on the poor plumber, who was sei/.ed
with sudden faintness and died in I'sliborne's house. This, however, was but the beginning
of 1'shhonic's crimes. He afterwards contrived to appropriate the waste marsh .between
tlie tower and the river), which he turned into a garden, with a pond to preserve hi> own
fresh fish. On a certain fast day — the Vigil of St. Peter ad Vincula — the day before
the great conventual feast on the fat bucks of Windsor — he invited his Westminster
oeighbonn to a supper. Out of the pond he had fished a large pike. He himself began
ujHin it, and after two or three mouthfuls he screamed out, ' Jx>ok ! look! here is come a
fellow who is going to choke me,' and. thus caught without the viaticum by the very tish
which had Iteeii tlie cause of his sacrilege, he died on the spot, and was buried in the
choir of St. Margaret's." This story long went round the monastic circle at Westminster, and
lent to this corner of the Abbey precincts a tinge of real romance until the modern "house-
breaker" and road-maker came along and gave to the scene of the ghostly hermit's retreat a
thoroughly modern and commonplace appearance. The well-known house in Old Palace Yard
occupied by .Mr. I^dxmchere abuts upon the Jewel Tower, and it could not have been far from
his garden that the sacrilegious Ushlx>rne caught the mysterious pike which caused his death.
•im: .IKWKI. TOWER,
Showing UK (plral itaircu* and old door, the qnaint shape of which nil!
be TI
CHAPTER XXIV.
ST. STEPHEN'S CHAPEL.
IN the general description of the old Palace of Westminster allusion has been made to the
erection of St. Stephen's Chapel ; but in view of the architectural importance of the building
and its fame as the home of the House of Commons during three centuries, some more
lengthened reference to it seems to be demanded before we take final leave of the architectural
features of the Palace of
Westminster, old and new.
As a collegiate chapel, with
all the attributes of such an
ecclesiastical establishment,
situated in the heart of the
Palace of the King, it enjoyed
during the early centuries of
its existence a special dis-
tinction. Jewels were lavished
upon its shrines with extra-
ordinary profuseness. • Its
decorations also, as we shall
have occasion to show, were
on a scale of magnificence
such as marked no other
.sirred building of that period.
.Moreover, its services were of
exceptional splendour; in fact,
there were few churches in
the country which, in its day.
were more famous. Yet such
were its vicissitudes that
the building is remembered
in this age, not as a great
ecclesiastical establishment,
but as a political and legisla-
tive centre second to none in
the world for the engrossing
interest of the events of which
it lias been the scene.
When the faithful
Commons left the Chapter
House of the Abbey — or were
ejected from it for disorderly
behaviour according to one
authority — the Chapel, in
l • iAi ,1 • i M J
winch they were- then installed,
PAIXT1XGS ON THE WALLS OP ST. STJSPHE;
The subject illustrated is the Nativity. The picture is interesting as one of the earliest altec
of lK/ntinga £ oils in this cmmtr£
293
294
Parliament Past and Present
«-\i: nr TIII: BAttO-ULIEVOI IN
Till: CK.NTRE OK THE OKOINS OP ST.
ciiAi'i-.i. ei.oi-i
A FIIICIIK OK AN ANGKI. WHICH
Arri:.\i!K.i> ix THK HI:N AMI. si .u. >TI.NI:-
WOHK OK TIII: 01. i> ST. 8TKriu:s's
CHAPEL CL01STEH8.
!i:ul sully degenerated. It-
rich endowments diverted
1.1 other u-cs.1 its clergy
scattered, ami tin- spirit of
devotion wliicll had once
ministered to it- magnifi-
cence fXtilK't. it llilll fallen
into inflect, and possibly
:I!MI into some decay. In
what manner it was adapted
to its legislative purpo-es
there is no record extant
to show. The presumption
i> that when it was handed
over to the Commons in
the years immediately suc-
ceeding the Act for tin- suppression of the religious foundations, it was titled up in much the -tyle
which marked it in the next century. In the earliest \iews extant of the H.HIM-O) Common*
thiiM'on tin- seals of the Court of Kind's ttench and the Court of Common Picas, cast in HilK —
the walls are shown with a plain wainscoting and with the ecclesiastical features of the edifice other-
\\i-e disguised. A change ap|«>ar.s to have been made a little later by the introduction of tape-try
hangings, for tlie Commonwealth seal of 1651 represents the walls thus covered. The aspect of
the House was not materially changed until the reign of (^neeii Anne, when, to provide greater
accommodation. Sir Christopher Wren was called in to erect galleries. Whatever the sen ices
of the eminent architect elsewhere, lie shone very inconspicuously in his work at the 1'ahu t
\Ve-tminstcr. His alterations were mostly in the nature of disfigurement^ tendinij. as they did, to
conceal, and in some instances to mutilate, the beautiful work of the ancient Chapel. Viewing the
matter in the light of subsequent discoveries, it is extraordinary that so great a master of taste
should have given his sanction to changes which tended to mar still further such a noble edifice
AS the Chapel even then was. Hut it is possible that his hands were tied by his instructions that
the duty imposed upon him \\a< not to renovate and restore, but merely to provide additional
elbow-room for m -mbers. whose numbers had been swollen by the then recent Union with Scotland.
After the completion of V»*ren's alterations, the Chapel underwent no other important
change until a further addition to the accommodation was rendered necessii y in 1800 by the
admission of one hundred and three Irish members as a consequence of the I'nioii \\ith Irelai.d.
To meet the exigency an ingenious scheme was adopted. This was the razing «>f the old side walls
of the Chapel, which wre
three feet thick, and the
buildingupon t he foundat ion
of a new wall only one
foot thick. In this way an
additional width of four feet
was obtained in the chamber.
sufficient to meet the new
demands.
A- soon as the wains-
coting was removed pre-
paratory to carrying out
the plan, it was discovered
that the old stone walls
i!i;ri!Ksi:.\TATicp.N OK -i in; SAVIOVI:
,.* S::KS is THK MASONKY or THK oi.n
R. VIP. Mil. V- ( II.M'KL CI.01STE11S.
1 By a statute of 1 Edward
VI. (A.D 1547)
-M KI:D M<IMIC;I:A.M usKi) IN THE
OI:\.\MI:XTATIOX or Tin; OLD ST.
STEPHEN'S CHAPEL CLOISTEHS.
ARMORIAL BEARINGS FROM ST. STEPHEN'S CHAPEL.
••d from Smith's " Antiqultt«?s of \\V-ttntinst.-r, ' wli.-n- llit-y an- Uli-ntifn-il as (Wlows, reading from left to right: 1, Richard FitzAlan. Earl of Arundel.
. '.». KoU-rt Karl of Suffolk. d. 13i»U ; 3. Kalj'li Karl <>f stafTr.nl. d. I37n : 4. \Villi:im. K:nl of Siilislmiy. d. 13W ; .",, Thomas Holland. Earl of K<;iit ; fi. Lawrence
Dgt, P^iil -if l-.-inbr-'k'-. <1 i:a;i : 7. .Inlm Li<n\ Clinton, el. i.Tfl" : 8. Jnhn \'--r<-. Karl of Oxford, d. 13.18 ; 9, Edward Lord Ln Desponser, 1375 ; 10, William Lord
Latimcr, d. 1381 ; 11, Hugh <v,!irtiicy. Karl "f I>-'V..?i. d. 1376; 12, Henry Lord Percy, d. 1368; 13. Sir Jame* Audley, afterwards Lord Andlcy : 14. Sir .Inlm Ch:mdi>s. K.d.
. John de Sirtton, Lord Dudley, d. 13.".9 ; 16, Mi-nry Lord Beaiinnmt. d. ]."7o : 17, John Lord Grey, of Codnore ; 18, tou much defaced to be mado out.
2*J5
296
Parliament Past and Present
were enriched with a wries of Ix-autiful jointings, many of them in n ]>erfect state of
|irrM-rviit inn. S.nii' remarkably tint- sculptured lignres and ornament- were also brought to
light, ami it wa> furthermore >ecn that the elegant tracery of (lie windows had been adorned
with am-ifiit staiiuil glass. Tin- subjects tivaird were mostly scriptural. •• I j>oii one .-id.- «a-
ieeu St. Marv anil St. ,lo-«-ph ; Ix-loiv them kin-It King Kdward III., liis Queen and ('ouit
laving tlifir rich offerings lx-1'oiv tin- feet of tht' l'les-ed Chihl. I'IKHI tin- wall- were paintings
M-pre-riiting scriptural subjects; and on each side of the altar were frescoes of tin- Nativity
of Our Most J?le--ed Ixird and Saviour, the jm-sfiitat ion of the Holy Infant in tin- Trnijilr. the
marriaijf of ('ana ot (ialilt-c. and the teiii|itation of the l\e<leenier in the Wilderness. In the
wintlows Mere rejiieM-nted Ailain ami Kve. Noah and his family. Abraham, Joseph, the liistorv
ot the I-raelites. and the ehief ineidents in the lift- of the Lord .leMis. from his baptisin in
tlie Kivi-r .Ionian until the last dread hour.- of the (Yueitixion upon Calvary."1
The di-o.veries n.-ated a threat sensition in antiijitai ian circles, and a thorough inveM iijat ion
of the remain- \\a- made. I'pon the ii relVa^ible evidence afforded by the old nvords of the
work done at the t'hajx-1 and the j.ayments made for it, it was concluded that tin' paint i;
were executed U-tween the \ears 1:545 and 13G4, in the reign of Edward III. An interest in.,'
firftiinstaiu-e also disclosed was that many of the paintings \\.n- in oils, and that thev were
i-.'ii-.-.jUently amoii>,'-t the earliest s]ieciineiis of that class of art work in existence.
Little need be said of the later structural history of the Chapel. In its enlarged
condition it remained unchanged until the fire of 1834 burnt out the flimsv ipilleries and
jartitions and other modern features, and left the shell of the ancient building standing, -,'aunt
and black, but yet with many traces of its old beauty upon it. Afterwards, as ia related
eNewhere. the walls were pulled down to make way for the new Palace of Westminster of
Sir Charles Harry, and all that is left to us of the famous: building is its brilliant meinoile-
of three hundred years of national life. Hut what memories they are! Across the floor flit
the images of all the great men who helped in the government of the country from tl.e
s).acious age of Elizabeth to the Golden Era of Victoria. Cecil, Coke, Hyde, Pym, llampden.
Cromwell, Somers. Waljwle, Bolingbroke. Harley, St. John, the two Pitts, Fox. Pelham.
Mansfield, Sheridan. P.urke. Canning, Melbourne, Peel, Gladstone— these are a few of the
names that instantly occur to the mind in connection with this ancient building. Its secular
history is an epitome of the growth and development of modern constitutional government.
Some of the greatest events in English history — events which had their direct influence in
the moulding of the Hritish Empire — actually occurred within its walls. If it still existed,
no MiM_,'le chamber would have a profounder interest or more stirring associations for the
politician or for the student.
1 \V;il''ott's "Memorials of Westminster."
;•* _ -o
E
i i
U. i
;
^
< *
r i
o 1
o
K
S
H
i
i
CHAPTER XXV.
PARLIAMENT IN BEING-ROYAL SPEECHES.
FAR back in the remote past of Parliamentary history must be sought the genesis of those
ornate ceremonies which now accompany the opening of Parliament. But in the earliest days
no doubt the forms in many respects differed very widely from those now observed. At that
period the monarch lived almost constantly in the Palace of Westminster, and as Parliaments
were customarily held in one or other of its rooms there was little scope for display apart
from that associated with the ordinary everyday life of the Court. Moreover, it is not difficult
to understand that the Norman and Plantagenet Kings did not feel impelled to emphasise by
spectacle the existence of the controlling authority which from time to time set itself to
oppose their arbitrary decrees. Parliament met and discharged certain functions, 'and that is
about all that can be said on the subject.
The earliest authentic record in any detail of the opening of Parliament is of the assembly
summoned at Westminster by Henry III. on January 28th, 1242. On this occasion there does
not appear to have been any speech from the throne, as we now understand the term. The
monarch's demands, which were for financial aid to prosecute a war with France for the
recovery of his lost possessions, were voiced by Earl Richard, Archbishop Walter Grey, and
the Provost of Beverlev. To them the Parliament gave an unfavourable answer in a memorable
document which constitutes the first recorded example of a reply to the throne. Two years
later, when the pressing necessities of the State constrained the King again to seek the assistance
of his subjects, he acted as his own spokesman. A similar course was adopted by him on
subsequent occasions. Indeed, with the lapse of time and the growth of the popular discontent
at the King's misgovernment, the proceedings of Parliament largely partook of the character
of an altercation between Henry and his barons. Edward I., following the precedent thus
established of direct personal communication with Parliament, intervened freely in the
discussions in the national council chamber,
and exercised a real influence in the framing
of those laws which have won for him the
title of the "English Justinian." To him
we owe perhaps the most remarkable King's
speech that was ever delivered. It was not
the studied, formal composition which now
passes under the name, but an impassioned
harangue — an appeal to the people if ever
there was one— delivered from a wooden stage
erected in front of Westminster Hall. The
occasion of this notable piece of Royal
oratory was the crisis precipitated in 1297
by Edward's unconstitutional act in ordering
a general military levy of the country.
Alarmed at the menacing attitude of the
earls and barons, led by Bohun and Bigod,
the King decided upon a frank public con- * From~a u^rl(im us_
ii-ssion of his error and a promise of amend- HENRY v. IN PARLIAMENT.
ment as the best means of recovering his The monkigh aspect of the assembly will be noted. In the earlier Parlia-
lost authority. His address— one of the
297
nienta the ecclesiastical element was very pronounced.
38
2Q8
Parliament Past and Present
Fnm Batr I " nnmirit,- IMS.
1IENKY VII. AXD HIS COUNCIL.
earlie-t. if not the earliest, platform
s|(eeehcs in mir hi>tory - wa- t n-m.'ndoii-ly
effective. In .-trains of real eloquence, if
we an- tn Ix-licve the chronicler Matthew
^g, SP~r "^ ^'estnl'nsl<'r)- '"' expressed his -orrow
ilBl^^^y ~ ^7r L^H °^ I**81 nm'ts a1"' '"'s determination io
VHffflnL. "f-^S^ ' irVfr ^jf'H'*' Covert! constitutionally in the future.
i 'oncludin<r. he said : "I am going t..
ex]«i-e m\*elf to danger for y<.ur >ai-
I jn-ay vein, if I return, ivr.-m- me as
you have me now. and I will re-tore to
\dii all that has In-en taken. Hut if I
return not. crown my MHI a- \<mr King."
1 plv stirred by the oration, the assem-
bled populace lifted up their hands in
token of their devotion.
As Parliament developed in [>o\ver,
the proceedings became more regular and
protract i-d. and the relation- of tin- King
with the assembly grew less intimate.
In course of time the cu-tom ar.i-e of
the King having his sjK-ech delivered
by deputy, that deputy Ix-ing the ]»rd
Chancellor. Almost simultaneously there was established the practice, followed to thi- day. of a
debate on the sj>eech, terminated by the adoption of an address to the Crown. Mo-t aiithoritie-
a-ign the delivery of the first regular reply to a Koyal speech to the reign of Kdwanl III.
It is certain that from that ]>eriod dates much of the procedure of Parliament as we know it
to-day. The rule of the delivery of a speech by the Lord Chancellor was not maintained
without exceptions. There was a notable departure from the ordinary practice on Ma\ 2nd. 14U1.
when Henry V. declared "with his own mouth" the Royal wishes. The King's necc-.-it ies at
the time were great, owing to the costliness of the war with France, and he no douht felt
the desirability of exercising his great personal influence to secure the supplies reijui.-ite for
the execution of his plans. With his death the old order of the delivery of Koyal speeches by
proxy was reverted to of neces-ity. Henry VI. was a mere infant when he commenced to
reign, and the opening of his first Parliament supplies perhaps as curious a picture as any
that the records on this branch of the subject afford. The tiny monarch was brought from the
Tuwer nil a MTV tall horse through the crowded -.treets, and after being regaled with fare suited
to his tender age, was solemnly taken to the House of Lords, where, sitting on his mother's
lap. he discharged his j«rt — most probably a noisy one — in the day's ceremony. "It was a
>t range sight." -ays an old chronicler, "and the first time it was ever so seen in England."
With little variation the procedure at the opening of Parliament remained as it was in
Henry VI.'- reign until tin- imperious Elizabeth appeared upon the throne. The Virgin Queen,
with her love of display and her dominating force of character, infused a new |>crsonal element
into the ceremony, giving to it a brilliancy and importance that had never pre\ ioii>ly marked
it. The indu-trioii- D'Ewes. as watchful for pictureMjuc incident as the latter-day profe»ional
Parliamentary sketch-writers, has left us some vivid word-pictures of these great legislative
functions. As they are the first really detailed descriptions of the oj>ening of Parliament that
an- extant, some excerpts from them will not be without interest or value. The narrative, so
far as we are concerned, opens with the a--embly of the first Parliament of Elizabeth's reign
on Monday. January 25th, 1558. This is the scene in the House of Lords a* D'Ewes saw it : —
'•Her Maje-ty sat in the Chair of Estate, and when she stood up her mantle was assisted
and borne up from her arms by two Noblemen or others of Eminent Kank thereunto appointed.
From a drawing by Cltai'lc* D. Ward.
EDWARD I. ADDRESSING HIS SUBJECTS IN NEW PALACE YARD IN 1297.
The populace are shown lifting up their hands in token of their devotion.
299
300
Parliament Past and Present
Th* two Seat*, on the right and left hnnii of the Chair of Kstate, were void in ropect (hat
the first wan Anciently for the King of Scots, when he u>ed to come to our I'arliiiinriiis.
and the other on the left hand is for tin- 1'rince. tin- iinineiliate heir to the Crown. On the
form on the right side of the Chair of lv-tate, which >tands on the north side of the I PIMM
II. .11-.-. usually sat the spiritual l^onU the ArchhMiop of York beginning the form mid the
Ahltot of Westminster ending it. Thi- u.i~ the la>t Ahlxit that ever sat in the House in
Kn<.;land. and U|KHI this occasion the two Archhishojis sat upon one form hy themselves, and tlien
the other liishops in order upon two forms, on the right hand of the State. The l'.i>hop of
Guidon first, the liishop of Durham second, and the Hisliop of \Vinchester in the tliird place,
and then all the other Bishops according to the antiquity of their Consecrations. On the left
side of the Chair of State, which is on the south side of the I'pper Hoii>e. UJHUI the fore -t
form, sut all the TemjM.ral I,ord> aliove the degree of Barons. The Marquis of Winche>ter.
I>ml Treasurer of Kngland. U'ginning that form, and the Viscountess I'indou ending it. The
Barons sat on the second form, on the left hand of the State. The Ix>rd Clinton, I^ord Ili^li
Admiral of England, began the form by virtue of his Office, and the Lord St. John of 151. N.,,
ended it. l'j>on suh.-equent meetings of the House in this and the next -.e^-jon one form
\\a< deemed sufficient for all the Barons, but upon this occasion, the attendance being large,
many ISnrons sat u]ion other Forms. Cross-ways, at the lower end of the House.
"Sir Nicholas Bacon, although the Lord Keeper and also Her MajeMy's Chief Secretary.
was under the degree of a 1'aron ; being but a knight, stood behind the Cloth of the K.-tate on
the right hand. I'IKUI subsequent occasions, Her Maje.-ty not being present, his lordship MU
on the first Woolsack, which is placed athwart the House, the Seal and Mace by him.
"On the WooUack on the north side of the House and on the right hand of the Kstate
sit the two Chief Justices and other Judges. On the Woolsack on the left hand of the K-iate
and on the south side of the House, sat the Master of the Rolls, the I»rd Chief I'aron. and
the Queen's learned Council and others. All these may be said to sit on the inner side of
the Wool sicks, and the Queen's Learned Council on the outside, next the Bishops.
"The Clerk of the Crown and Clerk of the Parliament sat on the Lower Woolsack and
had a Table before them. The Clerk of the Parliaments had to assist him, his Clerks, but thev
kneeled In-hind the Woolsack, and wrote thereon.
"All the Peers had their .Mantles, Hoods, and Surcoats of Crimson Velvet or Scarlet,
furred with Miniver, their Arms put on the right side, and the Duke of Norfolk had four
liars of Miniver, the Marquis of
<
front a imdrK< on tin title to tkc AsU tf Ptutiament, 1W1.
EDWARD VI. AXIl HIS COUNCIL.
Tb* picture rcprawnU • Ken* in one of the old roonu of the Palace of Wertmintter—
probablj the Tainted Clumber.
Winchester and the Karls three,
and the Barons two.
"The Knights, Citizens, and
Burgesses of the House of
Commons having been summoned
by Her Majesty's Command, as
many as could be conveniently
let in stood below the rail or
Kir of the House. Sir Nicholas
Bacon, after conferring privately
with the Queen, delivered Her
Majesty's reason for summoning
Parliament. As soon as Lord
Keeper ended his Speech the
Knights, Citizens, and BD:^' •--. -
retired to the House of Commons
to elect their Speaker."
The opening of a subsequent
Parliament — that of 1562 — found
from n drawing by A. D,
HENBY VI. OPENING PARLIAMENT WITH HIS MOTHER.
This is the only instance recorded in English history in which Parliament was opened by a Sovereign of tender years.
301
302
Parliament Past and Present
< H MILKS II. ON HIS WAY TO OPEN PARliIAMKVl .
Th* monarcD M thU period, and for *oau little time later, wu accustomed to make the journey through the streeu on horseback with a grot
retinue, also mounted.
D'Ewes again at his post, indefatigably recording his impressions. This time he gives us a
gliinjise of the spectacle outside the Parliament House.
"On Tuesday, January 12th," he says, "the Parliament was held, and about 11 o'clock
in the forenoon Her Majesty took her Horse at the Hall Door and proceeded in the following
manner to the Church of Westminster. First, all Gentlemen two and two, then Esquires,
Knights, Bannerets, and Lords being no Barons, or under age. Then the Trumpeters, the
Queen's Sergeant in his Circot-Hood and Mantle, unlined, of Scarlet, the Queen's Attorney
and Solicitor, Justices, Barons of the Exchequer, Master of the Rolls in his Gown, and
Knights Councillors in their Gowns. After these came Sir William Cecil, Chief Secretary,
and Sir Edward Holers, Comptroller, and William Howard bearing the Queen's Cloak and
Hat, followed by thirty Barons in their Mantles, Hoods, and Circots furr'd, and two rows of
.Miniver on their right Shoulders. Then the Bishops, their Robes of Scarlet lined and a hood
down their Kirks of Miniver, the Viscounts, Earls, followed by the Marquis of Winchester and
.M;irquis of Northampton. Lord Keeper's Sergeant and Seal, and after Sir Nicholas Bacon, Lord
Keeper of the Great Seal, in his Gown. Now came the Heralds Clarenceux and Noirys and
Queen's Sergeant-at-Arms, followed by Garter. The Duke of Norfolk, with Gilt Rod as Marshal,
the Ixird Treasurer with the Cap of Estate, and the Earl of Worcester with the Sword. Now
came HIT Majesty on horseback, a little behind the Ixjrd Chamberlain and Vice-Chamberlain.
Her Grace ap|»irelled in her Mantle opened before, furred with Ermines, and her Kirtle of
Crimson Velvet dose before and close sleeves, but the Hands turned up with Ermines and a
hood hanging low, round about tier neck. Over all a rich collar, set with Stones and other
jewels, and on her head a rich Caul. And the next after her, the Lord Robert Dudley, Master
of the Horse, leading a spare horse. And after all other ladies two and two, in their ordinary
apparel. By the side the Queen went with her footmen, and along on either side of her went
the ]N*ii>ioners. with their Axes ; after the ladies followed the Captain of the Guard, Sir William
St. l/>e. and then the Guard.
\\\\\\\
\ V\ \\\\\\\\\\\ \\ \\\\
\ \ ' .\\\\\\\\ \\\\
/"r^-,< a dravinp ordered by the then Garter.
THE HOUSE OP PEERS, WITH HENRY VIII. ON THE THRONE.
Woliej i> wen on the left of the picture seated by the throne, with the Cardinal's hat above his head. Next to him is Wan-ham, Archbishop
of Canterbury. The Speaker of the House of Commons is in attendance at the Bar with others of the Lower Houae, one of whom is covered, a.
privilege granted to several persons in the reign of Henry VIII.
303
304
Parliament Past and Present
-In tl.i- ..nl.-r II. -r Maje-ty pro.-eed.-d to (In- North Poor of the Church of Westminster.
when- the Dean there ami tli«- Dean of the CliajK-l met her. ami tin- whole clm].el in co],es.
St. Kdwnr.r- Mall' wa- delm-red to 1,,-r. A canopy was Uirne ..\.-r her l>y Knights, ami her
ttrareV Train was. from th«- weight thereof. held from her by Urd Koln-rt Dudley. Master of
tin- Horse. am) Sir Fnim-i> Knowles. Vii i--( 'hamlx-rlain. ami so proceeded to tin- Travers U-side
III.. Tal.l.- of A.lmini-traiion. All tin- b-nls sat down In-side the Tnu.-i-. l/.rds Spiritual
on th.< om- side. TVm|M>ral "ii tin- olh.-r. ami tin- Sword and Cap of K-tate was laid U]H>H the
table. Th,- rhoir having sung the Knglish pmces-ion. Mr. Noell. Dean of St. Paul's, In-gaii his
MTIII..II. tir-t ..t'..-1-ini; a pnm-r f..r the Queen's .M:ij.-ty and the I'liivi-rsal Church, and tin'
Hom.iiralil.. AsM-iiil.ly of thr.-«. K-t:ii.-s th<-r«- promt, t hat they ini-ht make such laws, as should
In- In (iml's (ilory and the yiMid of the IJeallll.
-Ti.e -.-iiiion U-inu ended and a psalm sum,'. Mi-r .Majc-ty and the re.-t orderly on IIM.I
pr.-.-.-1-ded out of the South D.M.r. when- she delivered the Dean her see]. Ire. and so proceeded
to the Parliament Cl.aml.er. when- the IJueen stayed a while in her privy Chamber, till all the
l/.rd- and other- were placed, and then Her Highness came forth, and went and sat down
in her Ho\al place and the Chair of Kstate (the Swc.nl and Cap of .Maintenance Ixirne he fore
and when she stood up her mantle was held by I^.rd Dudley as before.
"The Lord Keeper sat alone
upon the uppermost sack, until
the Queen was seated, ami then
went and stood without the Kail
on the right hand of the Cloth
of Kstate. the Lord Treasurer
holding the Cap ot K.-tale on
the right hand before the Queen.
(iarter standing by him. and on
the left hand standing the Karl
of Worcester with the Sword
and by him the Lord Chamber-
lain; The peers
forms and sicks
with their ranks.
"At the right hand of the
Queen sat on the ground three
or four ladies, and no more, and
at the back of the Cloth of Kstate, behind the rail, kneeled certain Lords under age and
other noblemen's sons and heirs.
"Her Majesty in this solemn manner being seated, the House of Commons had notice
thereof, and the Knights. Citizens, and Burgesses repaired to the I']. per llou-e. and being, as
many as conveniently could, let in, she commanded Sir Nicholas Hacon. the Lord Keeper, to
open the cause of calling and assembling of Parliament. Alter the delivery of the Koyal
M- --age, the Commons wen- directed to 'go, and elect one. a discreet, wise, and learned man.
to be your Sjieaker,' and the Queen returned to her Chamber, thence attended by the Lords to
the water--!, |e. when- she took her boat and departed to Whitehall, from whence she came."
A further description penned by D'Kwcs, relative to the opening of Parliament on
April 2nd. l.">l\. shows the ceremony from yet another point of view. Says the old diarist :
- II, r Maje-ty came about 11 o'clock towards Westminster, having first riding before her the
gentlemen sworn to attend her person, etc. . . . Her Maje-iy sat in her Coach in Her Imperial
K-.U-s. and a wreath or coronet of (Jold, set with rich pearls and stones, over her head; Her
Coach, drawn by two palfries. covered with rich Crimson Velvet, drawn out, imbossed and
embroidered very richly. Next after her Chariot followed the Earl of Leicester, Master of
the Horse. Then f,. rt \--e\en Lidie- and women of honour." After service in the Abbey, "she
sat UJH.II t In-
in accordance
OEOBGE III. OX 111S THItONK IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS.
Parliament in Being — Royal Speeches
305
entered into the Upper House of Parliament, and there sat in princely and seeming comfort.
. . . Then Her Majesty stood up in her regal seat, and with princely grace and singular
good countenance, after a long stay, spake a few words, ordering the Lord Keeper to show
cause of the meeting of Parliament."
These graphic records of D'Ewes bring before us in pleasant fashion the pageantry which
accompanied the opening of Parliament in the Elizabethan period. Apart from their interest
as pictures of the Legislature as it was three centuries ago, they have a historic importance from
the light they throw on ceremonial usages and the laws of precedence. In reading them it is
impossible to avoid being struck with the small departure from the order of procedure that
has been made in the three hundred years that have elapsed since the descriptions were
from an engraving after a draifing by CruikikanS;.
KING GEORGE III. ATTACKED BY A MOB ON HIS RETURN PROM THE HOUSE OF LORDS AFTER OPENING PARLIAMENT
ON OCTOBER 29TH, 1795.
A ballet pierced one of the carriage windowa, bnt the King was unhurt. The outrage arose out of the ferment caused by the French Revolution.
penned. In all main essentials the ceremony is the same to-day as it was then, and even
many of the details are identical.
Happily, D'Ewes's labours as a Parliamentary reporter did not close with the death
of Elizabeth. When James I. mounted the throne he was still at his post, as assiduous
as ever in committing to paper his impressions of Parliamentary events. Highly amusing
some of these records are in their quaint directness of language and their photographic
completeness. One of the fullest and most characteristic descriptions is that which relates
to the opening of the Parliament of 1620-21. On this occasion D'Ewes, having posted
himself in a "convenient place," though "not without some danger escaped,'' carefully noted
the various features of the Koyal procession as it passed from Whitehall to Westminster.
" Prince Charles rode, with a rich coronet upon his head, between the Sergeant-at-Arms,
carrying maces, and the pensioners carrying their pole-axes, both on foot." Next rode before
39
306
Parliament Past and Present
TIIK KISO'S RORING-ROOM, HOUSE OK LORDS, AS IT WAS BEFORE
THE FIRE.
his Majesty ••Henry V.-iv, Karl of
(Kenlord. Ixtrd Great Chamberlain
of Knglniul, with Thomas Howard.
Karl of Armidel. Karl Marshal of
KiiLiland. on his left hand. Itoth bare-
headed." Tin- King himself appeared
••with a rich crown tiiion his head
and most royally comparisoned.'' In
his j>assage through the streets oc-
curred these |«i->a-<- whii-h tin- diarist
notes "were accounted somewhat re-
markable," as, indeed, they wen-.
according to our twentieth-century
ideas . of Itoyal dignity at least :
" First, he spake often and lovingly
to his people, standing thick and
three folds on all sides to behold
him, 'God bless ye! God bios \e!
contrary to his former and hasty and passionate custom, which often in his sudden distemper
would bid a plague on such as flocked to see him. Secondly, though the Windows were tilled with
manv threat ladies a> lie rode along, yet that he spake to none of them but to the Manjiii* of
Buckingham's mother and wife, who was the sole daughter and heir of the Earl of Kutland.
Thirdly, that he sjiake particularly and bowed to the Count of Gondemar, the Spanish
Ambassador. And fourthly, that looking up to one window as he passed, full of gentlewomen
and ladies, all in yellow hinds, he cried out aloud, 'A take ye, are ye there?' at which
being much ashamed, they all withdrew themselves suddenly from the window."
Arrived at last at the House of Lords, the King made "a pithy and eloquent speech,"'
profuse in promises of the removal of monopolies and other grievances which at the time
pressed hardly upon his subjects. Mis Majesty concluded by desiring Parliament " cheerfully and
speedily to agree n[K)ii a sufficient supply of his wants by subsidies, promising them for the-
time to come to play the good husband and observing that in part he had done so already."
"I doubt not," oracularly remarks D'Kwes in winding up his narrative, "these blessed promise-
took not a due and proportional effect, according as the loyal subject did hope ; yet did King-
.lames, a prince whose piety, learning, and gracious government after ages many miss and
wish for, really at this time intend the performance of them."
James in this rase, it will be noted, acted as his own spokesman. This was his usual
practice. Like Elizabeth, he found great pleasure in lecturing Parliament, and he did so at
times with a freedom which, as has been shown in an earlier chapter, has supplied us with
some astonishing examples of Hoyal eloquence. He was not above cracking jokes when he
addn-sed the ]>eople's representatives ; once he almost melted into tears as he expostulated
with them on their frowardness. At all times he was curiously garrulous. On one occasion
he s|K)ke for upwards of an hoar, to the astonishment of legislators, who had not been
accustomed to such Koyal feats of oratory. The personal tradition was more than maintained
in the reign of his son, the ill-fated Charles. Royal speeches at that period were not
infrequently impassioned utterances pregnant with great events. He regarded his control of
Parliamentary proceedings as very real, and did not hesitate, as in the case of the attempt to
arrest the five members, to directly interpose in the proceedings of either House when it waa
necessary to do so to secure his ends. In the Commonwealth the J\oyal speech necessarily
disappeared, but the form remained with other Parliamentary usages, and invariably Cromwell
in meeting his Parliaments addressed them directly in vigorous rhetoric, of which he was so-
accomplished a master.
The KeM. .ration witnessed a change from the rule of personal oratory. Charles II. did
Parliament in Being — Royal Speeches
307
not shine as a speaker, and his utterances were in the main characterised by a business-like
brevity. Sometimes he did not even trouble the Houses with a speech of any kind. Thus,
on February 4th, 1673, we find Sir Edward Harley writing to his wife to the following effect:
" This day Parliament was convened. The King did not speak ; the Lord Chancellor shortly
only to recommend to the choice of a Speaker, which proved to be Sir Job Charlton."
A striking departure from this easy-going system was made after the Revolution of 1688.
When out of the old Court and Country factions grew the permanent division of members of
Parliament into Whigs and Tories — Ministerialists and members of the Opposition — and power
went to the strongest, the drafting of the Royal speeches became a matter of high political
concern. At the outset, probably the work of compilation was that of individual Ministers who
were most in touch with the Sovereign. This is indicated by the following letter from Lord
Godolphin to Robert Harley (afterwards Earl of Oxford) under date September 16th, 1702 : —
" I had a mind to trouble you with the enclosed rough draft of what I have prepared for
her Majesty's speech to the approaching Parliament, being uncertain how long before the time
of their meeting I may have the good fortune to see you, and being also extremely desirous
of your thoughts and amendments upon it before it be exposed to anybody else."
Godolphin's apparently casual consultation with his colleague was the forerunner of a
settled system of deliberation upon the Royal speeches. Gradually all the leading members of
the ruling party — in other words, the Cabinet — shared the responsibility for the work ; and it
is evident from a passage in the " Pelham Correspondence " that even in early Georgian days
tin- .Ministerial control of the framing of the speech was very real. From this communication
we gather that in 1744 the King (George II.) directed Pelham to draw up a sketch of the
intended speech to Parliament in order that he might form .a proper judgment of the measures
likely to be recommended by them. A draft of the speech having been presented by the
From a drawiny made on the ipot.
GEORGE IV. GOING IN STATE TO OPEN PABLIAMENT IN 1821.
The procession is shown passing down Whitehall.
308
Parliament Past and Present
WII.I.1AH IV. PROBOOriXO PABUAVEXT, APBII., 1831.
OM of th* but Suu crmnnoin |*.-f»nned In the old HOUM of Lord*.
Chancellor, "tin- King produced
a tran»cript in his own hand
witli several alterations and in
particular an assurance ihat lie
would auve to no peace until
all the allies were satisfied." This
course. says the author. was
strenuously oppi»cd by t he
Pel hams, and "it \\a-. not
without great and undisguised
reluctance on the part of the
King, reduced to the simple
avowal that his .Majesty would
not abandon his allies." Still,
the change was made, and in that
.•iivtunstanre we have a significant
illustration of the development of
the speech from a jK-rsonal ex-
pression of the Hoval wishes into
a .Ministerial declaration of |K>licy.
A good many years In-fore this period a custom had arisen which demands some notice.
This was the submission of the draft of the Royal speech at a specially summoned gathering
of the Ministerial [mrty on the eve of the assembling of Parliament. The meeting-place was
the Cockpit, an annexe of the old Palace of Whitehall, which stood on the site of the ancient
institution of that name established by the sport-loving Henry VIII. Doubts have been cast, and
by no less an authority than I»rd Kosebery, upon the exact locale of this famous building: but
all maps and plans clearly indicate that it occupied the ground upon which the TreaMirv is built.
Sum- reference to its singularly interesting history will be made in a subsequent chapter.
Meanwhile, it is sufficient for immediate purposes to state that in Walpole's time it was u>ed
for Ministerial business much as the houses in Downing Street are to-day, and that in addition
it was a reiide/voiis for supjiorters of those in power. How or exactly when the practice of
submitting the Ivoval speech for approval was introduced it is difficult to say. It i> fairly
certain, however, that it was regularly observed during the greater part of \V aisle's long
peri<«l of jNiwer, and that when he disappeared from the scene it was continued a^ a
matter of course a~ an established piece of party procedure. We gather this from a letter
which Wal]Nile himself addre»ed on October olst. 1742, to Pel ham. Writing from his
retirement at lloughton. the ex-Premier said: "You must be the fii>t wheel in the machine.
and whoever will think of making your authority less will create difficulties that will not !«•
ea-ily got through. ['\»m this principle I venture to give you my opinion upon a point that
.seems t,, me very material, relating to the meeting at the Cockpit, to communicate the Kin»'.«
s|H-e<-h. the day In-fore the se«>ioii. where I think you must preside."1 The advice here given
by the old .Minister to Pelham to preside at the m -etings was clearly conveyed with the
object ol inducing him to emphasise hi> leadership bv presiding. What was the cu>t
then remained the custom so long as there were such things as Cockpit meetings. l'nle»
prevented by illness, the head of the Ministry was in the chair at these ore-Parliamentary
assemblages, and it was by him usually that the terms of the speech were made known.
with Mich explanations a> wen- deemed nece>-ary. It would appear from a statement in a
life of I>ord Chatham published immediately after his death, that the Peers had a separate
gathering. Referring to the meeting of Parliament on November 25th, 1762, the writer sav> :
•• In the evening of the day preceding the meeting of Parliament, the members of the House
of Commons met as usual at the Cockpit. .Mr. Fox took the chair and produced to the
1 "Pelbam Correnpondence," vol. i. p. 35.
Parliament in Being — Royal Speeches
309
company a paper which he only called a speech, and which, he said, he would as usual read
to them. He afterwards produced an address which he read ; and then said that Lord
( 'arvsfort and Lord Charles Spencer had been so blind as to undertake to move and second
that address. The same ceremony is observed in respect to the House of Lords. The speech
is read by some peer who is supposed to conduct the business of that House. The manager
of the House of Commons takes the chair at the Cockpit." An allusion in the "Chatham
Correspondence " to a meeting in 1770, where an attendance of one hundred and seventy-nine
is described as " a very moderate one," appears to show that the muster was customarily
a full one. Nor, it appears from an entry in Lord Colchester's Diary, was the gathering
exclusively one of legislators. Says this writer, under date December 19th, 1798: "Went
to the Cockpit in the evening to hear the King's speech read. Two-thirds of the
room were filled with strangers and blackguard news-writers." Clear proof is here afforded
that the once select gatherings of Ministerialists had degenerated into a miscellaneous public
av-rnibly, to which almost any one who took the trouble to attend was admitted. Probably
from this cause the custom
was about this time dis-
continued. In "Fox's
Correspondence " the editor
(Lord Holland) mentions
the years 1794 or 179o
as the date of the last
gathering; but Lord
Colchester makes it clear
that the assemblies were
held subsequently for
several years. There is,
however, no reason to sup-
pose that they outlived
the eighteenth century.
When the Cockpit
ceased to be a rallying
point for Ministerialists on
the eve of the meeting
of Parliament, other
inciins were adopted to
secure the ends sought
liy these assemblages.
Some time afterwards
came into existence the
system of full-dress
dinners given by leaders
of both jiolitical parties
to their most important
supporters in the two
Houses. At these func-
tions, when the duties of
hospitality had been dis-
charged, the host of the
evening was accustomed
to read to lllS guests f rmn an engraving after Ike dancing by dustamjanet.
the terms of the Koyal THE OPENING OP PARLIAMENT BY QUEEN VICTORIA, JANUARY 3!sT, 1856.
Speech, a draft COpV of The Prince Consort is on the Queen's left and the Prince of Wales (H.M. the King) on the right.
3io
Parliament Past and Present
which wan in his possession. Then there would !*• informal talk u]>on the jirinci]Kil jioint
touched U|«ui. with consultations as to the Ix-st niean> of meeting attacks, or. in the
ewe of the Opi**ition. of making them. In this way l>oth Duties were fully prepared for
the political fray into which the debate on the address invariably resol\e> itself. The
arrangements sketched continue to the present day. In four centres, at h-.i-t. on the night
In-flip- the Parliamentary machine is set going at Westminster, a dignified company gather.-
around the festive hoard, and, under the stimulating influences of hospitality gracefullv
•liiijiensetl, is made acquainted with the terms of the .Ministerial programme of the session.
In -inie instances a stately reception follows the dinner, and all the great political and
•ot-idl world assembles in the ornate saloons of the statesman who happens to be at the
hem! of his jiarty in either House, to exchange confidences as to the prospects of the session,
and, what is not less im|>ortant in many eyes, to discuss the promise of the season. The
next morning, when the public opens its paper at the breakfast-table, it finds set forth in
discreet language a fairly complete sketch of what the speech to be delivered some hours later
is to contain. How it is
done only editors know.
and wild horses, of coui>, .
would not extract a con-
fession from them; but we
may shrexvdlv guess that
the ubiquitous representa-
tives of the Press who
found their way into tin-
old Cockpit meetings-
much to Lord Colchester's
disgust — are not very far
off when disclosures are
being made, under the
strict seal of confidence, to
the men of both parties.
It should be stated for
the sake of strict accuracy
that in the two last
sessions of Parliament the
customary inspiration has
been denied the editor,
and as a consequence the
newspapers have lacked
the mysteriously concocted
advance sketches of the
Royal speech.
From the framing of
the Royal speech to its
delivery is only a step,
but. it is a most important
step. Before it can be
accomplished some highly
important preliminaries
have to be discharged.
This is always the case;
THE OI'KMMi ur I-AIII.IAMKXT IIV grr.KX VICTORIA, JANUARY 31ST, IS.".!',. but wllCll, as has happened
The Sprmkirof lb« llonx of Common* at the D»rof the Howe of LonU. in the two I no.- 1 recent
Parliament in Being — Royal Speeches
sessions, the monarch attends
to open Parliament in person,
the introductory ceremonies
are immensely increased in
significance and interest.
From a State ceremony the
function develops into a
grand Royal pageant with all
the picturesque adjuncts
which belong to a monarchy
whose traditions go back the
best part of a thousand vears.
Taking their seats in the
gorgeous State carriage, re-
splendent in gilt and colour,
and with the Royal Crown
glittering at the apex of its
rounded roof, the King and
Queen in their regal robes
are conveyed through the
crowded streets from
Buckingham Palace to West-
minster. The eight cream-
coloured ponies drawing the
Royal carriage excite much
admiration, and a magnificent
escort of Life Guards, with
cuirasses flashing in the
sunlight and plumes nodding
in the air, lends an added
element of beauty to the
scene. Thunders of applause
go up and all hats are lifted
as the dazzling cortege sweeps majestically onward to the Houses of Parliament. It was not always
so, as the Parliamentary annals plainly show. On the very first occasion (1762) that this superb
State coach, which has attracted so many admiring comments, was used, there was a dangerous
disturbance which went near to seriously embarrassing the authorities. l Now, the only difficulty
encountered is that presented by the multitudinous throng of loyal spectators, who, in their
anxiety to acclaim their monarch, give the jwlice and the troops keeping the streets an
immensity of trouble. The " thin red (and blue) line," however, is maintained intact. In due
course the team of Flemish ponies are pulled up under the great Victoria Tower at the
majestic Royal entrance to the Parliamentary building.
Received by the great officers of State their Majesties alight, and, ascending the crimson-
carpeted staircase, are escorted to the Royal Robing-Room. Here the procession is formed and
with measured tread the Royal couple pass onwards through the Royal Gallery between lines
of bowing spectators. Meanwhile, a brilliant gathering is awaiting with eager expectancy the
1 "Such a mob was perhaps never seen as to-day (November 25th, 1702) between Charing Cross and West-
minster Hall. The King's magnificent coach might be supposed to have brought them together, but what
kept them there after the coach had gone back is, perhaps, not so satisfactory to think of. In short, Lord
Bute was insulted both going and coming from the House, and towards evening some soldiers were called iu
to support the constables in the discharge of their duty in clearing of tha streets, so that the members might
get away." — MITCHELL MS.
THE KOYAL ENTRANCE TO THE HOUSE OP LOEDS.
The great gateway at the foot of the Victoria Tower which is the principal means of access to the
Houses of Parliament.
312
Parliament Past and Present
advent of tin- King ami liis
Con-oil. F.very part of this
gorgeous "Gilded Chanr
save tliat atnuit tlic throne
is tilled with a magnificently
attired audience. l\esplen-
dent iiiiiforins of (lie m«»t
famous regiments in F.urope
vie with the lirilliant garb
of Ka-tern diplomats and of
distinguished ( hieiital \ i.-itor-
in richness of colouring.
(ilittering orders flash on
every side, anil the ten thou-
>and facet- of costly diainoiiil
coronet- and star- scintillate
until the eve al -I wearies
of their radiance. In the
T-caling of the a»emhly >trict
precedence of rank has been
observed. ( In one -ide of
the chamlier nearest the
throne are the duke- and
dllche-Mv- ; on I lie other side
are seen the spiritual ]••
in their accustomed pl:i
Along the remaining front
rows of seats are the other
] rs. dre--ed in scarlet rolies
trimmed with ermine and
white fur. I'pon the floor
of the House two rows of
seats are occupied by the
judges of the High Court.
all attired in their crimson
State robes and full-bottomed wigs. Behind the bishops on the right of the throne are
the members of the I>iplomatic Corps, making together a dazzling rmrterre of colour. The
peeresses, restricted in number owing to the revised arrangements for the accommodation of
the Commons to IM- hereafter mentioned, have a place on the back benches, and in their
U-autiful dresses, adorned by flashing brilliants, contribute an attractive element to an already
highly entrancing scene.
One by one the members of the Koyal Family arrive and are seated right and left of the
throne. Behind the chairs of the princesses the ladies-in-waiting take up their po.-ition.
Then the sound of the guns firing the Koyal salute in St. James's Park comes faintly in
from the outer world, noting the arrival of their Majesties. Shortly afterwards the head of the
pr<K-e--ion is seen coming in through the doorway. Amid a rustle of robes and the dying
murmur of siippre-sed conversation, the gathering rises to its feet. Simultaneously there
become visible the four pursuivants — Rouge Croix, Blue Mantle, Rouge Dragon, and Portcullis.
in their talmrds embroidered in gold and crimson with the Royal arms. Following them are
heralds in equally gorgeous co-tume>. The-e picturesque survivals of the Middle Ages march
slowly to the front of the throne, two by two, make a stately obeisance, and pass to their
allotted place- by the side. F.<|iicrries-in-waiting, gentlemen ushers, and grooms-in-waiting to
Tin: HOY A i. >i
On reaching the top of thU lUiraue tbl
>E, HOUSE OF LOKH-.
i on the main level of the HOIUM of Parliament.
313
40
314
Parliament Past and Present
his Majesty precede the entrance
of t lie Comptroller and Treasurer
of tlie lloiiselmlil. the-i- t\\o
officers each earning a white
wand. Then conies tlie Private
Secretary to the King and
Kee|ier of (lie Privy 1'lirse ill
full Court costume, followed
closely by the great officers of
State who are members of the-
(ioveninient and peers of the
realm. The- .Manjiiis of Salisbury,
Prime .Minister and l/ord Privy
Seal, wearing his rolies of a
jieer, bows right and left as he
passes the throne,, the Royal
ladies on either side returning
the salutation. The Lord High
Chancellor follows the Prime
Minister and takes up his posi-
tion at the right of the throne.
The " Keeper of the King's Con-
M-ience '' plays an important part
in the proceedings later on.
Quickly follows (ieneral Sir
Michael Biddulph in his military
uniform, (ientleman Usher of the
Hlack Kod (the ebony stafV he
carries will soon be used to
demand admittance to the
Commons House). Norroy, re-
presenting (Jarter King-at-Arms.
passes by the front of the throne.
his gorgeous talxird attract in-r
much attention, and he is followed
by the hereditary holders of two
of the great offices of the State —
the Duke of Norfolk as Earl
Mar.-hal and the Lord Great Chamberlain — the Marquis of Cholmondeley having succeeded to the
latter office upon the accession of the King. These two great officers take up their allotted
places. Three of the most interesting personages now enter. The Marquis of Londonderry bears
the Sword of State, holding it aloft with both hands; the long heavy weapon is in its sheathed
scabbard of crimson velvet encircled with gold metal plates. Then follows the Duke of Devonshire.
Lord President of the Council, carrying in his two hands a cushion of crimson velvet edijed
with gold trimmings ; upon the cushion is the Imperial Crown glittering with its rubies, emeralds,
sapphires, ]iearls, and diamonds — priceless jewels and gems numbering upwards of three thousand.
Following the I»rd President comes the premier marquis of England. J/ird Winchester, who by
hereditary right curries the Cap of Maintenance or Dignity upon the top of a short white staff.
The pageant is now near its completion as their Majesties King Edward and Queen
Alexandra enter, full of dignity, in their State robes, with long trains held up by youthful
I -ages of honour dressed in scarlet. Hand in hand the King and his Royal Consort walk up
the steps to the Koyal chairs, and the King conducts his popular Queen to her seat, and she,
/ . -I druKiHif l>y A. D. J/rC'(/ra«*i%
TIIK YKOMEN or THE G.UAKD SEARCHING THE VAULTS OX THE MOBSISO
OF TIIK OPENING OK PARLIAMENT.
315
3l6
Parliament Past and Present
with \\.-iirmly grace, ki—e- tin' Iminl of his Majesty U'fore releasing it. Tin- King tlii'ii
Milting himself U|KIII his throne to tin- right of the Queen, with a motion of tin- hand
commands tin- a»cmhlagc» to be .-eated. A slight pause, and the (it-nt It-man I'slu-r of tin- 1'laek
Hod i> de-pitched t<i -umm»n tin' faithful Commons to attend the King. There is liitle n 1
f..r tin- official reminder, as. thanks to the arrangement - made to oliviale the disorderly and
undignified scramble for places which until this year (1902) marked the advent of the members
of tlu» ]Mi|iiil;ir clininlM-r. tin* jHoitions allotted to this section of the Legislature are already
tilled. The Speaker, however, appears in full state at the 1'ar, with I lie Sergeant -at -A nils and
n i>io[«-r <-s<-ort of leading ineinlN-rs. .Now the Lord Chancellor. licnding low. hands to the
King a copv of the Iviyal >peech. which his .Majesty reads in a clear, resonant voice heard
in every [uirt of the chamlier. At the conclusion of the fijK-ech the King re-nines his
seat, the S|M-akiT. with a profound obeisance, withdraws, and s<xm the brilliant pageant is
at nn end.
Tin- ceremonies which mark the close of a Parliamentary session are. when the Sovereign
elect> to In- promt, from a spectacular point of view very similar to those which accompany
it- opening. It has IMM-II the custom, however, in later years for the Koyal speech which
marks the prorogation to lx- delivered by commission. The proceedings are usually purely
formal, ami are only participated in by a handful of legislators who have been detained
reluctantly at their po>ts by business or official duties. For a great many years _Mini>ter>
were in the habit of celebrating their release from .-essional cares by dining together at the
Ship Hotel at <ireem\ich. The-e "whitebait dinners." as they were termed, are traditionally
Ix-lieved to have originated in a friendly custom which Pitt had of dining with Sir Koln-rt
I'roton. a wealthy merchant who sat for Dover at the close of the eighteenth centurv.
The place of meeting at first was the host's residence at Dagenham, in Essex; but as this
proved inconvenient, the venue was changed to Greenwich, then a popular resort for diners.
(iradually what was a purely private function became widened into a .-emi-public and entirely
political fixture. So it continued until 1868, when Mr. Gladstone discontinued it. There
was a revival of the feast in 1874 by Mr. Israeli ; but the fashion was not congenial to the
modern spirit of Parliamentary life, which is to scamper off to the country the moment that
the htisine:-, at \Ve.-tminster is over. After lingering on for some years, it finally flickered out
during Mr. Gladstone's second Administration.
KIM; KDWAUD ijinso TO OPEN HIS FIRST PARLIAMENT.
The pmaexlon inning down Whitehall.
317
CHAPTER XXVI.
PARLIAMEXT IX BEIXG: THE SPEAKER.
IT is difficult in these days to imagine a Parliament without a Speaker. He is the key >t one
of the whole edifice. Kemove him and the entire constitutional structure collapses like a house
of cards. Yet there was a period when the Parliamentary authority contrived to do its
business in ignorance of the vhtues which repose in the great office — perhaps the most
dignified position OJKMJ to the ambitious Briton. True, that was a very long time ago. when
the country managed to get on without a good many things that are now deemed indi>peusahlf.
Still, it is worth rememliering that, ancient as 'the Speakership is and respectable as are its
traditions, it was a development of the constitutional system and not, as many of the great
public offices are, of antecedent origin.
Authorities are sharply divided as to when the Speaker first made his appearance upon
the Parliamentary scene. In one quarter, as we have already seen in the opening chapter, an
attempt has l>een made, not without plausibility, to discover a Speaker in a Parliament of
Edward I. Other experts fix the creation of the office much later. The truth probably is that
both to a certain extent are right. There were persons chosen to voice the general sentiments
of the Commons in the very earliest councils of the Norman Kings, but their duties were
those rather of the foreman of a jury than the presiding head of a deliberative body. Tliev
were mouthpieces in the strictest sense of the word. Upon them alone devolved the right of
expressing the popular view as to the demands, usually of a financial character, made by
the Crown.
The name which first appears upon the
ancient Parliament rolls in this character
is that of Peter de Mont fort, who, in
the forty-fourth year of Henry III.'s reign
(12(iO). appended his signature to the refusal
of Parliament to suffer the recall of Adomar.
the Bishop-elect of Winchester. No other
occupant of the office is met with in the
records for many years, and for this and
other reasons it is conjectured that the
position did not acquire real permanence
until the two Houses commenced to sit apart
from each other, and the necessity arose for
some intermediary. However this may be,
it is only when we reach 1377, near the
end of the reign of Edward III., that we
come upon a regular line of Speakers. In
that year, we are told. Sir Thomas Hunger-
ford was appointed parlour, or ••month," of
the House, and thereafter we meet with
successive appointments to the Chair. They
OK \VVKI: HAM.
• if Wmrliotcr, wlin, tan CL-nndlo! . exrrciMxl |x>werful
influence In Die later I'uliaiueuu nf Edw anl 1 1 1
31S
«S *" 1377'
within the twelve' months, a separate Speaker
Parliament in Being — The Speaker
319
was nominated for each.
The rule of fresh blood
obtained for many years.
In fact, the practice of
giving a certain per-
manencv to the office,
and dismissing the occu-
pant when increasing
years or infirmity compel
him to resign with a
peerage and a handsome
pension, is comparatively
a modern one.
Of the manner of
the election of Speaker
in remote times we have
evidence when we reach
the appointment of Sir
James Pickering, who
served in 1378. The
candidate selected by the
Commons was presented
for the King's approval.
Arrived in the Royal
presence, he requested
that "if he should utter
anything to the damage,
slander, or disgrace of
the King or his crown,
or in lessening the honour
and estates of the great
Lords, it might not be
taken notice of by the
King, and that the Lords
would pass it by as if
nothing had been said ;
for the Commons highly
desired to maintain the
honour and estate of the King ; as also to preserve the reverence due to the Lords on all points."
The record proceeds to say that, after this, on the part of the Commons, " he humbly thanked
tin- King for his promise to preserve the good laws and customs of the kingdom, and to punish
whosoever should act against them ; the Commons kneeling on the ground and praying God that
they might be put in due execution." In this quaint account — the first recorded — of the election
of a parlour in Richard II. 's reign, we have the germ of the ceremony of inducting a Speaker
as it is arranged to-day, only we have departed, fortunately, a long way from the abject spirit in
which "the Nether House " in those remote days sought the Royal sanction in their nomination.
" With bated breath and whispering humbleness " the popular representatives of mediaeval
times approached the throne. They seemed to take a real pleasure in grovelling. Thus, we
are told of Sir John Bussev, who was Speaker in 1394, that he was not satisfied with the
• •ii-tomary titles of honour of the King, "but invented unusual terms and such epithets as
were rather agreeable to the Divine Majesty of God than to any earthly potentate." There was
an improvement on this in 1401, when, on the last day of the session, the Commons "all knelt
fi-viu apicture iii tlic A'altoitul Pu,itrail Gallery.
SIR JOHN POPHAM,
Speaker of the House of Commons in 1581. Subsequently, as Chief Justice of the King s Bench, he
presided at the trials of Sir Walter Haleigh and of the Gunpowder Plot conspirators.
320
Parliament Past and Present
before the King. and
humbly besought liiin
to pardon tlu-ni it
t hrough ignorance they
might have nffcnded."
At tin- same time tin1
Speaker made what is
called a " long preach-
ment." comparing the
beginning and ending
of tin- Parliament In
the- sacrifice of the
.M:i--. I'llt there were
occasions when tin-
sturdy, self-reliant
spirit of the race
manifested itself. One
of these was when Sir
John Til >t oft, tll(' lirst
Speaker of the iviyn
of Henry IV.. having
asked to be excused
on account of his youth
and been refused,
lectun-d the monarch in
open Parliament with
quite youthful audacity.
I |e " expressed surprl-e
at llis excuse not belli;,'
received, and told the
monarch plainly that
his house was far more
chargeable. \ et less
honourable, than that
of any of his progenitors." The King must have been aghast at such insolence, but he does
not appear to have been moved by the indiscretion to withdraw his refusal of the plea. K\en
more surprising in its boldness was the conduct of an earlier occupant of the Chair (Sir Peter
de la Mare), who denounced in scathing terms Edward III.'s partiality for the celebrated
favourite, Alice JVrrers, and was committed a close prisoner to Nottingham Castle for his
pains. These, however, were but isolated instances of independence of spirit.
The language used by the Commons became, if anything, more servile as the days of the
popular chandler lengthened. When we reach Tudor times we are brought face to face with
nome astounding examples of Parliamentary obsequiousness. One Speaker 'Sir Thomas Ingletield)
in the early part of Henry VIII. 's reign, referred to the youthful monarch's "promising \alour.
wonderful tem]pcrancc, divine moderation in justice, and avowed desire of clemency." This \\as
(juite put into the shade by the hyperbolic eulogy of a successor in the Chair (Richard liich),
"who compared the King for justice and prudence to Solomon, for strength and fortitude to
Samson, and for l>eauty and comeliness to Absalom." The palmy period of Parliamentary
sycophancy. ho\ve\er. was the reign of Elizabeth, when the Queen's notorious vanity was pandered
to to an extent which even disgusted the Itoyal lady herself, ample as her capacity for
absorbing flattery was. One specimen of this fulsome oratory must suffice. It was delivered
by Sjieaker Crooke, in an address of thanks to the <v>ucen for withdrawing her grants of
fVm tkt paitttiHff t> { .Vn/iono/ Portrait Gallery,
SII! IIAIIIIOTTI.K (illl.MSTOX, liAKT.,
Speaker of the " Healing rarluimrnt," which ratonsl Charles II. in 1GCO.
THE EIGHT HON. ABTHTJB ONSLOW,
One of the greatest of the line of Si>eakere. He occupied the Chair from January, 1727, until March, 1761, presiding over five
successive Parliaments.
321
41
322
Parliament Past and Present
lii'-i. "All ol us, in all duty and thankfulness," said tin- Speaker, "do tlirow down-
ourwlvp* at the feet of your Majesty. Neither do we present our thanks in w<rds of any
outward tiling. wluVh can be no sufficient retriluitinn for HI great goodness, hut. in all duty
and thankfulness. prostrate at your feet, we present our most loyal and thankful hearts,
even the last drop of !>l«od in our hearts, and the la-t spirit of breath in our nostrils, to
be poured out. to IK- breathed up for your safety." -Then, alter three low reverence-
made," my* the rejiortor in an appropriate winding up of the incident, "lie with the n>t
kneeled doWII."
If the earlier Speakers assumed a I'riah Heep deineaiiour in approaching the monarch, it
should, in justice to their consistency, be stated that they were quite as painfully humble in
their dealings with their fellow-Commoners. A tradition grew up at the periodical election*
to the Chair, of the nominee of the House excusing himself for accept ing the othYe on the
THK BPBAKEBS HOUSE: nivKii FIKINT.
'i h< "tti. i:il home of the S)waker in the old House* ot Parliament destroyed by fire in 1834.
plea of his incapacity for the position. Entirely insincere in thought and expression, these
nt t. -ranees leave a slimy trail all through the pages of Parliamentary history, making us-
almost doubt whether the men who spoke these things could actually have accomplished the-
l»art we know they played in the building up of the greatest Constitution known to history.
There is one classic description of an election of a Speaker in the thirty-ninth year of
Elizabeth's reign, which must be given, not only for the light it throws on the point we
are elucidating, hut l>ceau.;e of the diverting glimpse it gives of the manners of the Tudor
Parliament men. I>'K\ves and Townsend are the reporters. Their accuracy may be safely
relied on. for they were nothing if not painstaking. They show the House assembled on a
certain day for the election of Speaker. First there is a speech from Sir William Knolls, the-
Comptroller of the Household. Said this worthy, "I will deliver my opinion unto you who is
most fit for this place, being a member of this House, and those good abilities which I know
to be in him. (Here he made a little pause, and the House hawked and sjuit, and after silence
Parliament in Being — The Speaker
323
made, he proceeded.) Unto this place
of dignity and calling, in my opinion
(here he stayed a little), Mr. Sergeant
Yelverton (looking unto him) is the
fittest man to be preferred (after
which words Mr. Yelverton blushed
and put off his hat, and after sat
bareheaded), for I know him to be a
man wise and learned, secret and cir-
cumspect, religious and faithful, no
way disable, but every way able to
supply this place." This appeared
to be the general view. "The whole
House," proceeds the narration, " cried,
' Aye, aye, aye, let him be ! ' and
the Master Comptroller made a low
reverence and sat down ; and after a
little pause and silence Mr. Sergeant
Yelverton rose, and, after a very
humble reverence, said: ' Whence your
unexpected choice of me to be your
mouth or Speaker did proceed I am
utterly ignorant. If from my merits,
strange it were that few deserts
should purchase suddenly so great an
honour. Not from my ability doth
this your choice proceed, for well
known it is to a great number in
this place now assembled that my
estate is nothing correspondent for the maintenance of this dignity ; for my father dying
left me a younger brother, nothing to me but my bare annuity. Then growing to man's
estate and some small practice of the law, I took a wife, by whom I have had many
children, the keeping of us all being a great impoverishment to my estate, and the daily
living of us all nothing but my early industry. Neither from my person nor nature doth
this choice arise, for he that supplieth this place ought to be a man big and comely, stately
and well-spoken, his voice great, his courage majestical, his nature haughty, and his purse
plentiful and heavy ; but, contrarily, the stature of my body is small, myself not so well-
sjiokcn, my voice low, my carriage lawyer-like and of the common fashion, my nature soft
and bashful, my purse thin, light, and never yet plentiful.'" It is sad to know that,
despite these manifold defects, the worthy Yelverton was elected to the Chair and filled it with
moderate success.
This style of hollow self-depreciation, after a long vogue, was finally laid aside for a more
dignified and self-respecting method of election. The dawn of a new spirit is seen in the
records of the appointment of Sir Heneage Finch, who was elected Speaker in the first
Parliament of Charles I. " Since," observed this worthy, " we all stand for hundreds and
thousands, for figures and cyphers, as your Majesty, the supreme and sovereign auditor, shall
please to place and value us, and, like coin to pass, are made current by your Koyal stamp
and impression only, I shall neither disable nor undervalue myself, but with a faithful and
cheerful heart apply myself with the best of my strength and abilities to the performance of
this weighty and public charge." Not less manly and dignified was the conduct on election
of Sergeant Glanvill, who presided over "the Short Parliament" of 1640. His address to the
King on his presentation for acceptance was couched in elevated language, and when the Eoyal
THE EIGHT HON. CHARLES ABBOT, FIEST LOUD COLCHESTEIt,
Speaker of the House of Commons from 1802 to 1817.
324
Parliament Past and Present
hud been given he at .nice submitted, observing: "My profession hath taught me that
from the highe-t judge and the highest seat of ju-tice there lyeth no writ of error, no appeal."
When the K.-f.. ration came-, with it- extravagant loyalty and excessive deference to Koval
authoritv. there was a lap-e into the old fashion of stilted .-elf-depreciation and fulsome
adulation. Hut the I.---.HI of independence had sunk too deeply into the mind- of Parliamentarian!
during the Commonwealth to permit of more than a teni]>oniiv display of the ancient quality.
KTP the reign had clo-e I. a Speaker of the Mouse of Commons, in the person of Sir Kdvvard
S-VHiour. was found addressing the King in language of a character which indicated unmistakably
the indejM-nilent teln]M-r of "the faithful Commons." "I am come hither." he .-aid. when he
went to the King for his approval on his lieing nominated in 1679 a second time for office—
"I am come hither for your Majesty's approbation, which, if your Majesty please to grant. I
shall do the Common- and you the best service I can." Seymour, in the previous session, had
taken a leading jwtrt in opposing the King's unconstitutional acts, and Charles did not mean
to allow him to remain in a |iosition in which he was able to continue the annoyance. Me
..in-. •quently put the bud Chancellor up to say that he disapproved the choice, as he was
entitled to do under his prerogative. Indignant at the slight cast upon them, the Hous.' ..:
Commons spent several days in discussing the best means of asserting the right they claimed
to choo.-e their own Speaker. The King, however, was obdurate, and ultimately the Commons
reluctantly ended the crisis by ap|K>in<ing Sergeant Gregory as their Speaker, a choice that
\\a- immediately ratified by the King.
Coincident with the constitutional changes which followed the Revolution of 1688 was a
ureat enhancement of the dignity of the Speaker's office. The occupant of the Chair was no
longer the creature of the Court or the subservient tool of a faction. He was the recognised
head of the popular branch of the legislature, and on this account fit to take rank with the
highe-t in the land. When the Convention Parliament assembled at the Banqueting Mall.
Whitehall, to offer William and Mary the Crown. Mr. Powle, the Speaker, occupied one
of the most prominent IH. sit ions, and in the subsequent procession through the streets to
proclaim the new monarchs his carriage actually headed the procession, taking precedence
even of that of the Karl Marshal. Still more eloquent of the increased importance and
independence of the position is the circumstance that in 1700 Sir Thomas Lyttleton,
whose candidature was strongly supported by the King, was defeated in a full House by
fourteen votes. It was, however,
left to Arthur Onslow. who presided
over the deliberations of the House of
Commons for thirty-four years, to
bring the office to its greatest position
of authority. Of this great Speaker's
career we shall have something to sav-
in a later chapter, when we come to
deal with the personal side of the
Speakership. But we may here appro-
priately cite an anecdote related by
Matsell which illustrates t he high sense
entertained by Onslow of the dignity
of his office. The story goes that
Lord Southampton (then Colonel Kit/-
roy) being in attendance upon the
King's person as one of the grooms
of the bedchamber, and coming in la'e
to make a quorum, was reprimanded
by the Speaker for bis dilatoriness.
whereupon Colonel Fitzroy excused
Till. liH.in
.T\MI> Al!i:i:ci:n.\il:v.
H|*aktr from ISM to 1889.
Parliament in Being — The Speaker
325
himself by saying that he
was in waiting upon his
.Majesty. "Sir," said Mr.
Onslow in a loud and com-
manding ' voice, " don't tell
me of waiting ; this is your
place to attend in ; this is
vour first duty." Animated
by this high, not to say
somewhat haughty, spirit,
Onslow drew to the Chair
in the course of his long
tenure of it that feeling of
respect — almost of veneration
— which still attaches to it.
After his time the office
had its vicissitudes. It was
sometimes) the sport of faction
— occasionally it was in weak
hands ; but never again was
it corrupt Iv or unworthily
filled.
A few words upon the
question of the emoluments
of the Speakersbip may not
be devoid of interest and
instruction. In the earliest
period of which we have
authentic records of pay-
ments, the office appears to
have carried with it a salary of £5 a day — a by no means extravagant stipend even when
the greater value of money in those days is borne in mind. After the Eestoration, Speakers
received £1,000 as equipment money on their appointment, and a fee of £5 on every
private bill that was introduced into the House. These irregular payments were highly
unsati>factorv from many points of view, and they were finally swept away by an Act of
rarliameiit which established the principle of a fixed salary. By the provisions of an Act
of William IV., the salary of the Speaker was fixed at £6,000 per annum, to be paid, free of
all taxes, out of the Consolidated Fund ; and later, during the same reign, the salary was
reduced to £5,000 with the appointment of an official secretary, to receive £500 per annum.
The allowance of £1,000 as equipment money upon first appointment continues, but a grant
of 2.000 ounces of plate has taken the form of a permanent service, which is supplied with
the furniture of the official residence. The supply cf two hogsheads of claret has ceased, and
the sum of £100 a year allowed for stationery has been discontinued, the State furnishing
what is required in this direction.
Hy customary usage the Speaker, on retirement, receives a pension of £4,000 a year and
a peerage. A condition of the grant is that one-half of the annuity shall be suspended during
any period that the recipient holds "a place, office, or employment under his Majesty of
equal or greater amount of salary, profit, or emolument than the amount of the annuity."
Belles thcx- direct personal advantages, the occupant of the Chair has placed at his disposal,
for the maintenance of his dignity, the services of a chaplain, a private secretary, and a
train-bearer, and there is also a Speaker's Counsel to aid in the unravelling of knotty legal
points. Furthermore, there are several pleasant little perquisites attaching to the office, such
THE SPEAKER'S HOUSE.
The main entrance in Speaker's Court, access to which is obtained from New Palace Yard.
326
Parliament Past and Present
a- a buck and a doe. usually sent from the
Koval pi r\es at Windsor, and a width of
broadcloth furnished at Christinas by the Cloth-
workers' Coni}>aiiy. With it all the Speaker
cannot in these days of profuse hospitality be
-aid to be highly remunerated. If the social
duties at the Speaker's Hoiis,. are at all adr-
(|iiatelv discharged, the allowance from the
Kxchec|uer can scarcely suffice to co\er actual
expense*.
.Many and varied are the duties pertaining
to the Chair. P. -sides acting as president of Un-
popular chamber and the interpreter of its will,
the Speaker discharges various important func-
tions. He. as mouthpiece, demands judgment on
behalf of the House in cases of impeachment by
the Commons. He issues all warrants to execute
the orders of the House for the arrest and
commitment of offenders. His powers extend to
India in certain cases for the examination of
witnesses. The Speaker signs, alter first perusing,
the votes and proceedings of the House, which
are printed and circulated daily to members; he
approves retunis presented to the House before
being printed; controls the issue of all Parlimentary
papers laid upon the table; sanctions the rules
applying to private bill agents, whose duties and
responsibilities are governed by Standing Order:-;
and he has, finally, considerable powers regarding
the taxation of costs incurred in this branch of
Parliamentary business — the reports of the taxing
officers being submitted to him.
Only in modern times bas authorised provision
been made for supplying a Deputy Speaker in case of need, although during the Protectorate
tem|Kirary Speaker.- were allowed to act. The custom was. in the event of a Speaker's illness.
for the Clerk to inform members of the fact, and for the House thereafter to imntediatelv
adjourn. When the SjH-aker's absence continued for a considerable time, he resigned, and
another would be elected with all the formalities, including the permission of the Crown and
Koval approval. I'pon the return of the first Speaker, the one occupying bis place would resign.
or become indisposed, and the former re-elected with a repetition of the formal proceedings. Jn
1853 a Committee considered the subject, and recommended a change in the procedure, and
the House r hed to allow the Chairman of Ways and .Means to act as Deputy Speaker. Two
\ear- later an Act was passed, the provisions of which extended all the powers possess,.,! by the
Speaker to his Deputy, whose actions were to be as valid in every respect as those of tin- Speaker.
At the meeting of the House each day tin- Speaker proceeds to the House with much
formality. Preceded by a messenger is the Sergeant -at-Arms, attired in Court dress and
i-arrying the mace.1 Then come-. .Mr. Speaker, attired in Court dress and full wig. his long
gown lieing lield up by his train-bearer; and in the rear are the chaplain and the private
secretary. .Members join the procession upon its way. and walk into the House to pra\<-i>.
All memlx-rs and strangers present in the I/obby raise their hats respectfully as .Mr. S|
and his retinue pass along.
1 The mace liax been in nte since the Restoration, and bears upon it the initials " C. R."
•• • Tb» qora-Jon i«. tUt I il.in.i» leave tlie rliair. A» n .-iny .1- ;.ii
of that opinion, «ijr " Aj«" : of ike contrary, «ay " Xo." '
"A I'AKTIM! CiiMI'l.lMIIXT
•• To Ht RigU Ho*. Clnrl,, JU.tiuur* *,
'• Speaker of the It '!:• in MX rocce«ive I'arlianirnta,
WhoM U»t act ill 111- -f trtiir), ,!<•! not -i*r
anivrnal MtUfartion.
" • 1h» Brat Ouninioner luuiiiL-t i^utleiuen, and the flrrt gentleman
ir*
327
328
Parliament Past and Present
TV arduous character of the duties of the Sj>eakership may lx- gathered from the brief
sketch that has been given of the re»]x>nsihilities of tlie Chair. 'I here is, indeed, no great
«.th,«. in the State which makes u heavier call U|xm the strength of its occupant. The mere
pl,\-i..il strain of sitting for inaiiy hours at a stretch in one position, with mental faculties
nli-rt. is eiutrniouii. Only the strongest constitutions can c-ome satisfactorily through such an
onion). Kortunatelv the great line of modern Shakers to whom the observations mainly
n]i|ilv— for the practice of long and late sittings is an evil which has become acute only in
cotnJMnttivclv recent times— have been men as renowned for their bodily endurance, as for their
high intellectual and -moral qualities. Cases of actual breakdown have IM-CII rare, and there
are extraordinarily few instances in which ferious indisposition has interfered with the regular
discharge of the Sjieaker's office. Still, even Jove sometimes nods, and there have been
occasions when, amid "the dreary drip of dilatory declamation," tired nature has a-sertcd
itself, and the weighted eyelids of First Commoners have closed in slumber. It is to one
of these episodes that Wentworth Mack worth Praed, who was n member of the short-lived
Ministry of Sir Hohcrt Peel known as "the Hundred Days," refers in these stanzas:—
Slwp, Mr. Speaker; it'* only fair,
If you don't in your bod. you should in your chair.
Longer and longer still they grow,
Tory and Itadical, Aye and Xo.
Talking by night and talking by day;
. Mr. Speaker, sleep while you may.
Sleep, Sir. Speaker ; sweet to men
Is the sleep that cometh but now nnd then,
Sweet to the sorrowful, sweet to the ill,
Sweet to the children that work in the mill.
}"I;K have more need of sleep than they;
Sleep, .Mr. Speaker, sleep while you may.
• After all, however, a tendency to somnolence has been one of the least conspicuous of the
weaknesses that have marked the occupancy of the Chair at any period. The Speaker's eye
has sometimes been accused of a lack of impartiality by heated partisans, but its vigilance has
rarely been called in question.
"CAfOHT XAI'PINO. '
IB ilit HOCM of Commom In 1833, In which n drown? Chairman of Cuniml ttea U detected sleeping during tbe progrm of
a delate in Committee, over which ho U praidlng.
CARDINAL WOLSEY,
Whose visit to the House of Commons elicited a memorable
reply from Sir Thomas More, the then Speaker.
CHAPTER XXVII.
SPEAKERS— FAMOUS AND INFAMOUS.
THE history of the Speakership which has been sketched
in general outline in the preceding chapter would not be
complete without some more detailed reference to. the
personal aspects of the office. Many great names are
associated with the Chair — names which, have left an
indelible mark upon the annals of the country. More-
over, the position is peculiarly one in which individual
characteristics have strikingly manifested themselves,
and it is only by the biographical process that can be
properly elucidated the more notable incidents which
have accompanied the development of the prerogatives
and powers of the Chair. It is, perhaps, fortunate, in
view of the exigencies of space, that the earlier names
which figure upon the Speakers' roll were those of men
mostly undistinguished. Worthy knights of the shire,
commoners temporarily withdrawn from an honourable
obscurity by a fleeting popularity, and mediocre lawyers
using their position for purposes of personal aggran-
disement— such was the character of the vast majority
of those whom the House delighted to honour in the
first two centuries of its existence. Where fame came to any of them, it was mostly due to
their fortuitous association with some historic event which had passed outside the walls of the
Parliament House.
A case in point is that of Sir Henry Bedford, who, in the fourth year of the reign of
Henry IV. (1403), submitted what was one of the first, if not absolutely the first, votes of
thanks tendered by Parliament to a victorious general. The circumstances of this incident
in Parliamentary history are so singular that they may be related in the quaint phraseology of
the ancient record. According to this, the Commons, on October 16th, "by the mouth of their
S[>eaker gave the King their most humble thanks for his many valiant exploits — namely,
for his last expedition into Scotland and for his three several journeys into Wales since the
former, wherein," continues the chronicler, " they took occasion to praise the valour of the
Prince, and forgot not to mention the noble service performed by Lord Thomas, the King's
second son, in Ireland. As for the victory in Scotland, they humbly hoped that by good policy
it might be made to turn to the advantage and ease of the Commons, and because in that
battle the Earl of Northumberland behaved gallantly they prayed the King to give him thanks."
A curious sequel to this episode was supplied four days later, when, "the King seated on his
throne in the Lords, the Commons being then assembled," the Earl of Northumberland and
his son, Harry Hotspur, brought before the King the leading prisoners taken in the bloody
fight at Halidon Hill, where ten thousand Scots were slain. " These prisoners," says the
historian, " on coming into the King's presence kneeled three times : first at the door of
the Whitehall within the King's Palace, then in the midst of the Hall, and, lastly, before the
throne ; and whilst they were still kneeling Sir Adam Forester, in the name of them all,
329 42
330
Parliament Past and Present
humbly prayed the King tlmt they might be entertained according to the course of war. which
the King, becalm' they were taken fighting valiantly in the field. readily granted. Finally.
thev were committed to the care of the Steward of the Household to await the Kind's pleasure."
A fifteenth-century Speaker who.se illustrious name entitles him to a word of pacing
comment wag Thomas Chaucer, who officiated in the Parliament of 140H. He was a m -ar
relative of the |>oet, hut api>ears to have had little in common with "The Father of English
I'm-trv." About the onlv fact of interest associated with him was the equivocal remark of the
King when he made the usual protestation on election, "that he expected the Commons would
»peak no unbecoming words, or attempt anything that was not consistent with decency.'' A
second name of high distinction in the country's annuls is that of John Ku-.-el. who, elected
Sjieaker on October 14th, 1423, laid the enduring foundations of the great house of llcdfonl.
Hut these are only chance landmarks in a barren land.
When we approach the troubled period of the Wars of the Roses we find the Speaker-hip
a dangerous office for those who filled it. William Tresham. who occupied the Chair in 1 Kill
and again in 1447. was Iwrharously murdered on the King's highway not far from Northampton.
ns he went to meet the Duke of York. He had taken an active part in the impeachment i.f
the Duke of Suffolk, and it is conjectured, probably correctly, that the outrage was in revenge
for his official share in that transaction. Not less tragic and even more historic was the late
which awaited Thomas Thorpe, a knight of the shire for Essex, who was elected S]M-aki-r in
1452. in the reign of Henry VI. He became involved in the fierce internecine struggle which
was raging at the time by seizing, on behalf of the King's party, some warlike stores which
the Duke of York had dejwsited in the palace of the Bishop of Durham. An action for
trespass was brought by the Duke, and the un-
fortunate Speaker was ca>t into the Fleet 1'ri-ou
in execution of a decree for damages. The
Commons strongly protested again;-! this outrage
to their head, urging that he was privileged in
what he did "by common custom, time out of
memory of man and ever afore these times. u>ed
in every of the Parliaments of the King's noble
progenitors." The appeal was in vain. Thorpe'-.
imprisonment was made more effective, and a new
S] icaker wsis elected in his place by order of the
Peers of Parliament. At length the unfortunate
upholder of constitutional rights escaped, but
only to be recaptured and, by the Duke of York's
orders, cast into Newgate. After remaining here
for some time he was transferred to the Marshal-
sea, and finally met his end on the scaffold at
Harringay Park, in Middlesex, now one of the
most thriving of London's northern suburbs. Sir
William Oldhall, another Speaker of this j«>riod —
he was elected in 1451 — was attainted of trea-mi.
but appears to have escaped the fate of Thorpe.
_^^ Next on the list calling for notice is Thomas
L ^^WKTC^I^K it Lovell, who may be described as "The Fighting-
Speaker." Elected on November 7th. 1 IMi. Lovell.
as a staunch adherent of Henry VII., in the follow-
ing year took the field with the King's foiv,-
against the Simnel faction, and greatly distin-
guished himself at the battle of Stoke, receiving
for his part in the transaction the honour of the
Kirn «lil> III..
In wboM niu-n "M a|>|«>int«l to UK S|i*>k«nbi|i tlit DoUiriutu
WillUm OatMty. Tin bou ni|i|i.,rte» an noticeable In the COM
of
Speakers — Famous and Infamous
331
Garter. Engaged on the rebel side
in this encounter, which proved so
disastrous to the Simnel cause, was
Lord Lovell, a kinsman of the Speaker.
With the name of this nobleman a
tragic legend is associated which is
the foundation of the romance of " The
Old English Baron " and of that most
popular of old-time ballads, "The
Mistletoe Bough." The story goes
that, flying from the battlefield, Lord
Lovell sought refuge in one of his
own castles. A faithful retainer
received him and conducted him for
security to an old cellar. Here for
some still unexplained cause he was
left and ultimately died of starvation.
The mystery of his disappearance was
not elucidated until about a century
and half ago, when, upon the opening
of the vault for some purpose, the
skeleton was found.
Leaving the troubled period of
the Wars of the Roses, we come across
a group of occupants of the Chair
whose names have been handed down
to infamy. First in order of chrono-
logical precedence, if not in moral
degradation, is William Catesby, the
willing tool of the crafty Duke of
Gloucester (Richard III.). He is traditionally believed to have been an active participator in
the murder of the young Princes in the Tower, and at all events had a hand in most of the
merciless acts of general policy by which his tyrant master was seated upon the throne. It
was in allusion to his influence, with that of Ratcliffe and Lovell, two other of Richard's myr-
midons, that Colingburn penned his well-known distich : —
The cat, the rat, and Lovell our dog
Rule all England under the hog.
The last phrase of the couplet is an allusion to the boar which Richard adopted as one of his
supporters. Catesby accompanied his master to Bosworth Field, where he was captured, and
from the field of battle sent to the scaffold at Leicester three days later.
Next on our black list we make acquaintance with as pretty a brace of ruffians as are
to be met with in the pages of English history. It need scarcely be said that the reference
is to Empson and Dudley, the notorious Ministers of Henry VII., whose extortions, even
in that age of misgovernment and oppression, were of monstrous import. Sir Richard
Empson, who was elected to the Chair in the Parliament of 1491, was of common origin, his
father being a sieve-maker at Towcester. He was a man of haughty and overbearing
disposition, and for his cruel exactions on behalf of his Royal master was hated by the poor
with a poisonous hate. The popular feeling towards him is illustrated by a story narrated by
his biographers. It is stated that an old man in Warwickshire, " accounted very judicious in
judicial astrology," was one day scoffingly asked by Empson when the sun would change. To
this the old man promptly replied : " Even when such a wicked lawyer as you go to heaven."
SItt CHKISTOPHEtt WRAY,
Who wa» Speaker in 1171
332
Parliament Past and Present
Kmpson's com | Minion in iniquity. Kdwnrd Dudley, who filled the Clinir in 1503, was a man
of good birth ami attainments. Imt utterly unscrupulous. It was said of bisection --that
a man may easily guess how absolute the King took himself to lx« with his Parliament
when the on-iit an' Dudley, tlmt was so odious to the public, was made Speaker." It is
-.•iti«fa.t..ry to know that a just n-trilmtion in the end overtook this precious juiir. When
Henry VIII. came to the throne in 1560 they were brought to the sc-affold to appease the
jmpiilar anger.
It i> refreshing to turn from these unhallowed associations of the Speakership to the recollec-
tions which olu>ter alknit the illustrious name of Sir Thomas More, to whom Townsend. in his
••Memoirs of the llou-e of Commons," refers glowingly, but not. perhaps, untruly, as " tin-
first great man and still the greatest of his nice; the fir>t Knglish gentleman who signalised
himself as an orator; the first writer of prose which is still intelligible; the first layman
Chancellor of Kngland. the celebrated magistracy which has rarely been filled by a more
learned, never by a better, man." More's career as a member commenced in the reign of
Henry VII. soon after he came of age. His sturdy opposition in the House to tin- marriage
of I'rincess Margaret with the Scotch King brought him into disgrace at Court, and he wa-
forced into retirement for some years. Finding favour with Henry VIII.. he in 152:5 returned
to Parliament, and was promptly elected Speaker. Soon he was called upon to show that
strong independence which was so marked a feature of his character. The King, in desperate
need of money, commissioned Wolsey to endeavour to secure assent to an enormous subsidy
of iSOO.OOO, to be raised by a projierty tax of a fifth of men's lands and goods. Notice \\.-is
given to the House of Commons of the projected intrusion, and there was a protracted and
earne>t debate as to whether the Cardinal should be admitted with a few followers only or
with his whole train, opinion ruled in favour of the former course; but More took a different
line in a s|M-ech which is a masterpiece of policy.
"Maisters," he said, "forasmuch as my Lord Cardinal lately, as yee woote well, layde to
it\i, i'Ai\n\i;s ox TIII: MITTM MI>K OF ST. STEIMIKN'S CH.\I'I:I..
OM of UM nun? bnutiful nudiieril .mWlli.bn.enu of the Ch»i>«l dbcorerad when the alteration, were made to admit th« Iri.h member* after
the Union.
KING HENRY THE EIGHTH,
III whose reign the Speakerahip was degraded by its association with man; despotic exercises of the Kojal authority.
333
334
Parliament Past and Present
our charge the lightness of our tongues for
t hinges uttered out of this House, it should
not in my mind l>e omisse to reoeave him with
ail hi* jKiinpe; with his maces, his pillars, his
l«i|ea\e«. his cross, his hut to, and the (ireut
Seale too: to the intent that if he finrle the
liko fault with us, then we may lay tin- blame
ii|M>n those whom his Grace bringeth with
him." >
So it was settled that the regal Wolsey
should come in full state, and In- di'l so. with
(•••Mill-. however, which were very disap|N>inting
t» his vanity. The House maintained a
• lute sili-nce in the face of nil his appeals.
At length, losing jiaticnce. In- in imperious
language in>i>ted U|HHI a n-iisonable answer.
Then the Sjieaker, "falling upon his knees
with abject humility. excused the silence of the
Mouse, abashed," as it was. "at the sight of
-ii noble a jM-r.-oiiage. who was able to amaze
tin- wi«e»t and most learned men in the realm."
Thereafter " with many probable arguments
In- endeavoured to show the Cardinal that his
manner of coming thither was neither expedient
nor agreeable to the ancient liberties of the
llou.-e, and in conclusion told him that .except
all the members Could put their several thoughts
into his head, he alone was unable in so
w eight v a matter to give his Grace a sufficient
answer."
Finding that his entreaties were useless,
Wolscv swept out of the House (the Chapter
House) in a towering (Mission. Meeting More
a little later at Whitehall, \Volsey said to him:
••Would to (iod you had been at Koine. Sir
Thomas, when I made you Speaker!" " Your
(iraee not offended, so would I, too, my lord,"
replied the im|>orturbuhlu More, "for then I should have seen the place I have long desired
to \i.-it." The King shared Wolsev's anger at the defeat of his scheme, and he vented it in
characteristic style. Sending for Kdward .Montague, a very influential member of the House of
<'< >mmons, he greeted that gentleman as he awaited the Koyal commands on bended knees with
the words: "Ho! man, will they not suffer my bill to pa>s y " Then, placing his hand on
.Montague's head, he added sternly, "Get my bill passed by to-morrow, or else to-morrow this
head of yours shall 1)6 off." This argument, partially at least, succeeded where Wolsey's
argument failed. The measure ]uis>ed, though in a greatly modified form. Some of More's
biographers have represented that his attitude on this question of a subsidy was not so firm
a- it is represented in the account quoted, and that he on the occasion enforced the Cardinal's
demands with arguments of his own. It is quite possible that this may have been the case,
a- More was too keenly alive to the weight of the Koyal hand to offend if he could avoid it.
Whatever the truth on the jKiint may In-, he must be admitted, even by his seven's! critics,
to have behaved in the then circumstances of Parliament with becoming spirit, and a full
1 Kogcr'a "Life of More."
/'i-oi» a tertntetnth-century vwxtcttt.
ST. STEPHEN'S CHAPEL.
Speakers — Famous and Infamous
335
appreciation of what was due to the independence of the popular chamber. Still, More's-
occupancy of the Chair cannot be said to be the portion of his career which reflects the highest
lustre upon his name. Most people will prefer to turn from the degenerate legislative era in
which he acted as the Commons' mouthpiece to those closing scenes in his eventful life in which
a successor of his in the Chair, Sir Eichard Kich, played so mean and dishonourable a part.
It is a familiar tale, but it will bear repetition.
Imprisoned in the Tower at the behest of the Koyal tyrant he had served so well, he was
visited one day by Rich. Thereupon a singular colloquy ensued between them. The conversation
was opened by Rich : •' ' Forasmuch as it is well known, Mr. More, that you are a man both
wise and well learned, as well in the laws of the realm as otherwise, I pray you, sir, let me
be so bold as of good will to put you this case : Admit that there were an Act of Parliament
made that all the realm should take me for King, would not you, Mr. More, take me for
King ? ' ' Yes, sir,' said Sir Thomas More, ' that would I.' ' I put the case further,' said
Mr. Kich : ' that there were an Act of Parliament that all the realm should take me for Pope,
would you not then take me for Pope ? ' ' For answer,' said Sir Thomas, ' to your first case,
the Parliament may well meddle with the state of temporal princes, but to make answer to-
your other case I will put you this case : Suppose the Parliament would make a law that God
should not be God, would you then, Mr. Rich, say that God should not be God?' 'No,' said
he, ' since no Parliament may make such a law, no more (as Mr. Rich reported Sir Thomas,
should sav. but yet he made no such inference as he avoucheth after to Mr. Rich's face) could
the Parliament make the King supreme head of the Church.' " The mean-spirited Rich reported
the conversation, and upon it a charge of treason was constructed, leading ultimately to-
More's execution upon Tower Hill.
The records of Sir Richard Rich's Speakership exhibit him in quite as unfavourable a light
as might be anticipated from his treacherous conduct towards More. Soon after he was
appointed in 1537, the King visited
the House of Lords to pass bills that
were awaiting the Royal assent. Rich
took advantage of the opportunity to
deliver a fawning speech in which he
likened the King to the sun, •' for as
the sun," said he, " expels all the
noxious vapours which would otherwise
be hurtful to us, and by its heat
cherishes and brings forth those seeds,
plants, and fruits necessary for the
support of human life, so this our
most excellent Prince takes away by
his prudence all those enormities
which may hereafter be anyways hurt-
ful to us and our posterity, and takes
care to enact such laws as will be a
defence to the good and a great
terror to evil-doers." The man, no
doubt, was a mere creature of the
King, and maintained himself in
power bv pandering to his vicious
and tyrannical propensities.
\Vcll worthy to be bracketed with
Rich is his immediate successor, Sir
Nicholas Hare. This Speaker presided
over the historic Parliament which met
SIR KOBEBT BELL,
Who succeeded Sir Christopher Wray .is Speaker in 1572.
336
Parliament Past and Present
THE SPEAKER'S COCKTYABD, KHOM THK MH'TH-WKST.
HM rim to iDUmtlacM iflbrdlng » gllmpM or the .urmundingi of the
t't lutd«OM to tk« uld Palace of Wottmimwr.
rin 154(» to lend its sanction to the despotic
decrees of Henry VIII. During the session
~~ about seventy Acts received tin- l;.i\al a-scnt,
^^A some of them of u character which lias left a
deep stain upon the legislative iinnal.-. A few
_ . - __ j£* ^. example- inav !«• cited. Resides a statute
providing for the divorce of the King from
his two wives, there Were Art- decreeing the
burning at the stake of any one who should
presume to think or obstinately aftirm that
the Communion of the Bles-ed Sacrament in
lx>th kinds is necessary for the health of
man's soul, or that private masses \\.-re not
laudable, or that auricular confession wa- not
expedient and necessary. Mon-trous a- the.-e
enactments were, we find that at the cl<>
the session the Speaker, in the mo.-t naii-rou-
8tr«iin of sycophancy, "congratulated the
kingdom, and thought great praises were due
to (iod for the blessing of such a ruler." The
times must, indeed, have been out of joint
when such things could happen; and un-
fortunately they were not, as far as the
Speakership is concerned, to change. When
"the English Bluebeard" disappeared from
the scene, and. after a brief interval of light,
during which the Boy King reigned. Mary, of sinister memory, ascended the throne, the degrada-
tion of Parliament was intensified, if possible. The lowest depth was reached in 1554-5, when the
two Hoii-e-, after repealing all the laws of Henry VIII. and Kdward VI. relating to the Reforma-
tion, at the clo-e of the Parliament went in solemn procession to St. Paul's Cathedral to return
thank- for their "conversion" to the Catholic Church. Ninety crosses were borne in the
procession. jn which figured a hundred and sixteen priests in full vestments. Bishop J'onner
carried the pyx under a splendid canopy, and with him were seven other bishops. Behind
walked the HOUM- of I»rd>. and then the House of Commons, with its Speaker (Clement
Httgham) and the mace. Mass was celebrated in the Cathedral with all the pomp of the
Roman ritual as a final act of solemnity to impress the populace with the reality of the
change. Vet only a few years passed away before the old laws were re-established and the
Hi-formation wa.s in full blast again, with Parliament as its sturdiest defenders. The Speakers
of those di-tracted times must not, perhaps, be blamed too severely for their share in the
transaction- which now seem so contemptible. They were the products of a day when inde-
pendence of work or thought was a heinous crime, and the noblest were either sycophants or
fanatic-.
The KlizalH-than Shakers were too deeply imbued with the old bad traditions to do much
to elevate the office. In the main they were quite undistinguished, and have left behind
them little but their names and a monotonous succession of truckling speeches in praise of
Koyalty or in insincere depreciation of themselves. One Speaker who, however. mu>t not be
paned over without social mention is Hiehard Onslow — the bearer of a name subsequently
to become famous in the history of the Chair. It is curious that this individual was
e|e<ted aifain-t his will— or ]terlmps it would be more correct to say that he was appointed
in defiance of his expie--ed wish to In- pas.<ed over. The question of his selection wa.s settled
by a divi-ion. the fir.-t. it is believed, in the history of the Speakership. Kighty-two votes were
cant in favour of overriding his refusal, and seventy against. The diffidence shown by Onslow
5. o
f S
• -
43
338
Parliament Past and Present
wan to a great extent justified, for his tenure of office was by no means remarkable for (he-
ability displayed in the conduct of the proceedings. The Shaker's name is chiefly a-sociatcd
with an adulatory speech delivered at the period of the dissolution of the Parliament. Elizaheth
wan »o well satisfied with this that she deigned to supplement the I/.rd Keeper's customary
harangue with a s|>eech of her own "as a periphrasis," for though she had "not been used
nor loved to -peak in ojx'n assemblies," yet she on this occasion broke the rule of silence.
"remembering that commonly Prince*' own words be better printed in the hearer's memory
than those s|M>ken by their command."
Kichard Onslow was succeeded by a number of very worthy men who made admirable
courtiers, but were not eminent in any other character. One who may be singled out for mention
for ]HT#nnal reasons is Sir John Poplmm, who was Speaker in 1581, the twenty-third year of
Elizalieth's reign. This worthy had climbed to the Chair under ro:nantic circumstances. When
quite young he was kidnapjx'd from his parents by a band of gypsies, and by them held for
some years, when circumstances led to his restoration to his home. In consequence, it is
sup|Mised by his biographers, of his vagabond life, he was as a young man noted for his reckless
and dissijHtted habits. Ultimately, through the influence of his wife, he reformed, studied for
the law, became a member of Parliament in 1572, and, as already noted, was elected Speaker
in 1581. Another occupant of the Chair of the Elizabethan period who should be particularised
is Sir John Puckering, who was installed in November, 1585. It iell to the lot of this
Sjx-aker to take a prominent part in the proceedings which led to the execution of .Man
Queen of Scots. Selected to present to Elizabeth the petition of Parliament that the unfortunate
Queen should be consigned to the scaffold, Puckering discharge;! his mission by making a.
sjieech conceived in an implacable spirit. Elizabeth, with a sincerity which may reasonably
be doubted, manifested a reluctance to accept the advice tendered, and requested that there
should be found "a more pleasing expedient whereby both the Queen of Scots' life mav be
s|iared and my security provided for." The Commons declined to alter their decision, where-
ii|ton Elizabeth replied in a speech which was
a masterpiece of Jesuitical refinement. "If,"
she observed, " I shall say unto you I mean
not to grant your |>etition, by my faith I should
say unto you more than, perhaps, I mean.
And if I said unto you I mean to grant
your jietition, I should then tell you more
than is fit for you to know. And thus I must
deliver you an answer answerless." Parlia-
ment, with a shrewd appreciation of the Queen's
real sentiments, declined to be put off in this
way, and ja-rsisted in asking for the carrying
out of the sentence, urging that "as it were
injustice to deny execution of the law to any
one of her subjects that should demand it, so
much more were it so to the whole body of
her people of England unanimously and with
one voice humbly and instantly suing for
the rame." Kli/a!>eth'> scruples, genuine or
assumed, as is well known, were finally over-
come. Mary Queen of Scots died the traitor's
death. Partly, perhaps, for his zeal shown in
this case, Puckering secured the Ix>rd Chan-
cellorship, and distinguished himself in that
office by his devotion to the Protestant cause. ""• *™**™'* "" HTYAKI,, FHO.M •,„.: SOOTH-BAST.
A favourite maxim of his was that "he that Anoth«r back Ticw of th< %£££?*** " U" °W **"* °'
Speakers — Famous and Infamous
339
SIB EDWAKD COKE,
Speaker in 1592, one of the ablest men who ever filled the Chair.
is thoroughly Popish cannot but be a
trayter."
It fell to Puckering's lot while hold-
ing the Great Seal to assist at the installa-
tion in the Chair of Sir Edward Coke,
one of the most celebrated of the men
who have filled the office. The period
of Coke's Speakership was, on the whole,
the least creditable portion of his career.
As we have shown in the preceding
chapter, he strengthened if anything the
degrading traditions which had grown up
about the Chair. Of his ingenuity in
hyperbole we have some amusing speci-
mens in the pages of D'Ewes. Thus,
in a speech at the close of the session,
Coke, addressing the Queen, compared
Parliament to " that sweet commonwealth
of little bees." Her Majesty was the
queen bee, and they lived under the pro-
tection of her wings. " Under your happy
government we live upon honey ; but
where the bee sucketh honey there also
the spider draweth poison. Some such
venoms there be ; but such drones and
door bees we will expel the hive and
serve your Majesty, and withstand any
enemy that shall assault you. Our lands, our goods, our lives, are prostrate at your feet to be
commanded." High as is the flight here taken, it did not carry the orator quite so far as
the eloquence of Sir Edward Philips, the Speaker of the first Parliament of James I., carried
him. It must be read in full to adequately appreciate its supreme qualities ; but a few
passages may suffice to convey an idea of the spirit of the whole. Commencing his discourse,
this worthy said : " Most renowned and of all others most worthy to be admired Sovereign, as
the supreme and all-powerful King of Heaven hath created man to govern His works, so did
He depute terrestrial beings in whom His image was to govern man, but yet so as still to
think that they were but men." Afterwards proceeding to speak of himself, he dwelt with
pompous magnificence of diction upon the position he was called upon to fill. "This great
and important public service requireth to be managed by the absolute perfection of experience,
the mother of prudence; by the profoundness of literature, the father of true judgment; and
by the fulness and grace of Nature's gifts, which are the beauty and ornament of arts and
actions; from the virtues of all and every whereof I am so far estranged, that not tasting of
Parnassus' springs at all, nor of that honey left upon the lips of Plato and Pindarus by the
bees, birds of the Muses, I remain untouched with the contrary, and thereby am disabled
to undergo the weight of so heavy a burthen, under which I do already groan, and shall both
faint and fail if not by your justice disburdened, or by your clemency commiserate." Here,
fortunately, we touch the topmost summit— or more properly, perhaps, plumb the very lowest
depth — of the rhetorical insincerities which so long marked the utterances of the occupants
of the Chair. The fashion gradually went out, and with the introduction of higher ideals
of dignity the Speakership gained in strength.
A worthy pioneer of the new school was Sir John Glanville, who is described by Clarendon
as a man "very equal to the work, very well acquainted with the proceedings in Parliament,
of a quick conception, and of a ready and voluble expression." His personal qualities are
340
Parliament Past and Present
attractively illiMr.it. -.1 by BH interesting story told of his dealings with his elder brother,
Sir Fraud* Glanville. This individual by his dissipated h.ihit> s.» brought di>grace n\*>n
lib fninilv that his father out him off with the proverbial shilling. When the will
disinheriting him wan rend. Sir Frauds Glnnville was overwhelmed with shame ami remorse,
and forthwith resolved to lead a better life. Retiring from society, he commenced an
honourable and useful career, and in time became quite an altered man. His In-other, the
S|>eaker, observing the change, invited the reformed prodigal to a sumptuous banquet, at
which many distinguished friends of the family wen- al><> guests. When the least hail
proceeded some time, a dish was set before Sir Francis (Jlanville. and he was invited by the
hot to help himself to the contents. Removing the lid, the knight found a bundle of papers,
which on examination proved to be the title-deeds of an imj«>rtant section of the anccMral
estates, with a conveyance of the property to himself in due legal form. A veil may be drawn
over the scene that followed; but it should be said that this pleasing incident, so eloquent of
a generous and high-minded dis]xiMiion, did much to raise Sir John Glanville in the estimation
of his fellows. As a Speaker he showed himself a man of great judgment and discernment.
His speeches were eloquent without the insincerity which had long marked the utterances from
the Chair; and generally he set an example of dignity which was not lost upon his immediate
Micccssors. Though not in any >ense a great man, his memory deserves a warm corner in the
Parliamentarian's heart as that of one of the most honourable and high-minded members
who were ever called to preside over the destinies of the popular chamber.
William Lent hall, who was Glanville's successor, was a Speaker of a very different type.
Ili.-tory differs as to the interpretation to be put upon some of his actions, but there is a
general agreement amongst writers that he was lacking in fibre and to a certain extent in
principle. The one great episode in his career, his vindication of Parliamentary privilege in
the memorable answer he gave to Charles
I. when he went to the House of Commons
to arrest the five members, was belittled
by subsequent acts of indecision and
time-serving. Nothing can quite wipe
out the stain of the degrading scene
which was witnessed in the Hon>e of
Commons in 1647, when tin- army and the
Parliament having fallen out, a mob of
Presbyterian apprentices broke in upon
the affrighted assembly and compelled
it to pass resolutions rescinding votes
already agreed upon. Lenthall's part in
the business was little to his credit.
Even after he had lent his sanction to
the miserable farce and was making his
way out through the Lobby, he permitted
himself to be dragged back to the Chair
by the rioters to put a vote in favour of
the King's being brought to I^ondon.
The distracted state of the country at
the time may be held to be some excuse
for the weakness shown in the circum-
stances. Still, something more was ex-
pected of a Speaker even under duress
than a participation in a heinous infringe-
ment of the rights of the House, followed
by an undignified scuffle from Palace Yard
-n.lKKII \YII.I.1A.M I.KNTIIALL,
A gnat flgnra of the Omnninnowlth peri'xi. A» SgmUur he jrat the qnution
for the trial of Charlw I.
LENTHALL BEING CARRIED BACK TO THK CHAIR BY THE PRESBYTERIAN APPRENTICES.
A degrading episode in LenthaH'a career which has brought upon his memory much obloquy.
341
342
Parliament Past and Present
KXTKAXCK FROM XKW PALACK YARD TO TIIK CFBAKJEB8
COUKTYARII IN THE OLD PALACE OF WKSTJ11XSTEU
in a strange carriage to escape tin- further
unwelcome attentions of the mob.1 Nor does
his subsequent conduct remove the. impression
which this .episode gives of his character.
On another occasion when he wished to avoid
an inconvenient attendance at the House, he
pleaded a desire to prepare liiniM-lf for the
Sacrament as an excuse for absence. II'-
accepted £6,000 as a gift from Parliament
after his speech to the King, and, what is far
more to his discredit, jiocketed a douceur of
£50 for his good offices in promoting a petition.
Furthermore, he received with alacrity from
Cromwell one of those singular patents of
nobility which the Protector, with a tru--
appreciation of human weakness, distributed
amongst his subservient following. Finally.
when unmistakable signs told him that th^
tide had turned against the Commonwealth,
he trimmed his sails so as to bike the
greatest advantage of it. We have in the
records of the days which preceded tin-
Restoration an interesting picture of him
standing in his gown at the gate of hi-*
residence (the Rolls House) in Chancery Lane
reviewing the troops prior to Monk's arrival, making encouraging speeches to them and des-
]>atching them eastwards with instructions to occupy the Tower. Almost simultaneously we find
him in the House of Commons violently opposing the bill brought in compelling all members
to take an oath abjuring the House of Stuart. Again, he is seen offering an eloquent welcome
to Monk on his arrival, and subsequently with him making arrangements for the reinstatement
of Parliament on its proper basis. Energetic, however, as he showed himself in bringing about
the Rest oration, he could not efface the impression of his previous acts of antagonism to the
dynasty. He was actually included by the House of Commons in the list of persons exempted
from the Act of Indemnity. It might have gone badly with him but for the intervention of
the I. '>nl-. who modified the penalty by substituting for the major ban a simple decree dis-
abling him from ever again holding public office. For this small mercy he had to be thankful.
Even his disgraceful action in giving evidence as to words spoken in the House in the trials
of the regicides failed to secure his rehabilitation. He died unhonoured and unlamented in
September, 1662. On his dying bed he made a confession of his contrition for his share in
the execution of Charles I. "I confess with Saul," he said, "I held their clothes while they
murdered him; but herein I was not so criminal as Saul, for I never consented to his death.
No excuse can be made for me, that I proposed the bloody question for trying the King; but
I hoped even then when I put the question, the very putting the question would have cleared
him, because I believed there were four to one against it — Cromwell and his agents deceived
me." I ..-Hi hall is one of the great names in Parliament, but it is great because of its
association with memorable events, and not for the qualities displayed by its owner.
There were several successors to I^enthall before Charles II. came into his own. A singular
circumstance is to be noted in reference to those who were appointed just previous to the
Restoration. After Cromwell's death, his son Richard, acting on the advice of his Council,
1 Lonlhftll. describing the incident himself, nays that the mob did"jnstle, pull, and kale the Speaker all the
wmy lie went down to hi* caroche, and force him (to avoid the violence) to betake himself to the next caroche to escape
the violence."
Speakers — Famous and Infamous
343
resolved to call Parliament together. The Houses assembled on January 27th, 1658, and Mr.
Challoner Chute was chosen Speaker. The "heats and tumults" of the House were too much
for him. Within a very brief period he became indisposed, and Sir Lilleborne Long was
elected in his place. Again the choice was unfortunate, for in a short time the new Speaker
sickened and died. Then Mr. Bamfield was appointed pro tempore. He had hardly been
nominated when Mr. Chute died. The House by this time thought it had had enough of
electing Speakers, so it left Mr. Bamfield in undisturbed possession of the Chair.
The period of military ascendency which accompanied the Restoration was one of degrada-
tion for the Chair. A turbulent element was imparted with the colonels who filled the
benches, and scenes of disorder were frequent. Burton, in his "Diary," gives some amusing
examples of the scant respect shown to the Speaker in those days. The occupant of the Chair
was openly flouted and laughed at, and once when, after much provocation, he attempted to
assert his authority, he was told that he behaved himself "like a Busby1 among so many
schoolboys, and takes a little too much on him, but grandly." Edward Seymour, who was first
elected Speaker in 1673, redeemed the Chair from the humiliating position to which it was
brought by the weakness of the earlier Restoration Speakers. Haughty in spirit, with a keen
sense of what was due to him as a descendant of the Protector Somerset, he by sheer force
of character reduced the factious assembly to order. Reference has already been made to
his action on one occasion in quelling a dangerous disturbance while the House was in
Committee by resuming the Chair, and compelling excited members to give pledges for their
good behaviour. But this, though a conspicuous illustration of the masterfulness of his
disposition, is only one of many episodes in which he figured as the autocrat of the popular
assembly. Once he ordered an eminent lawyer of the day into the custody of the Sergeant-
at-Arms because he showed no respect as the Speaker's procession passed through Westminster
Hall. An even more remarkable assertion of his dignity is to be found in a story which Lord
Dartmouth, a contemporary, relates: "On
one occasion, in passing through Charing Cross,
his (the Speaker's) carriage broke down, and
he ordered the beadles to stop the next
gentleman's they met and bring it to him.
The gentleman in it was much surprised to
be turned out of his own coach, but Sir
Edward told him it was more proper for
him to walk in the streets than the Speaker
of the House of Commons, and left him so
to do without any further apology."
Pride, however, sometimes has a fall. It
had in Seymour's case. One day a petition
was put into his hands by a waggish
member. Unfolding it and adjusting his
spectacles with his accustomed gravity, he
began to read : " ' The humble pet ition of
Oliver Cromwell— •' The devil ! " he ejacu-
lated. "The laughter was so loud and long,"
says the narrator, "that, throwing down the
paper, the old man fled from the House in
his wrath.7' It should in justice to Seymour
be said that his bearing towards Royalty
was quite as haughty as it was towards lesser
mortals. On an historic occasion a message
being brought from the House of Lords that
1 Dr. Busby, the famous headmaster of Westminster School.
SPEAKER I'llAXCIS KOUS,
An eminent Parliamentarian, who presided over Cromwell's Convention
Parliament in 1653.
344
Parliament Past and Present
tin- King was on the throne awaiting his pre-eiice to hear the prorogation of Parliament.
he refu-ed to stir until the Hill of Supply had been brought from the House of Lords
according to precedent, and when again warned, he declared that lie would be torn by wild
;.,.i-.-> sooner than «|uit the Chair. lli> persistency carried the day. The hill was sent down
and the rights of the popular rhainU-r were vindicated. Hut the incident was not allowed to
he overlooki-d when the time came for Seymour to seek re-election. The King, on being asked
to give his sanction to the a|i|M.intincnt, flatly refused, and in the end the Commons had to
make a frvsh choice. At a subsequent period Seymour had to run the gauntlet of an
ini]H-:ichment. one of the counts in the indictment against him being that he had received
exorbitant pensions as Shaker. It was a corrupt age, and high-minded, or at least high-
stomached, as Seymour was. he was not altogether exempt from the common weakness of
desiring to enrich himself through his public position.
For thorough-paced unblushing venality, however,
we must refer to the career of Sir John Trevor, who
was the first Speaker after the accession of \Villiam III.
Trevor was, perhaps, as ill favoured physically as any
member who ever sat in the Speaker's Chair. Of
ungainly figure, and with a lowering countenance which
was made more repellent by a villainous squint, he
created a most unfavourable impression on all who saw
him. The feeling of repulsion was justified. When
he had been five years in the Chair whispers went about
that he had what the law terms an "illicit gratifica-
tion " from the City of London in respect of a bill
before the House relative to the orphans committed
to the care of that body, and had in addition taken
a similarly unholy payment from the East India
Company for his good offices in respect of some legis-
lation in which they were interested. With a righteous
desire to ascertain the truth, the House of Commons
appointed a Committee, with Mr. Patrick Foley as chair-
main, to probe the matter to the bottom. In the result
the allegations were proved up to the hilt. There was
actually an official entry of Trevors shame on the cor-
porate records: "That .Mr. Chamberlain do pay to the
Hon. Sir John Trevor, Knight, Speaker of the House of
Commons, the sum of 1,000 guineas, so soon as a bill
be passed into an Act of Parliament for satisfying the
debts of the orphans and other creditors of the said City."
An endorsement on the back of the order set forth that
"the within-mentioned 1,000 guineas were delivered and
paid unto the Hon. Sir John Trevor this 22nd June,
1694, in the presence of Sir Robert Clayton and Sir
James Houblon, which at 22s. exchange comes to i'1,100."
The bribe from the East India Company was equally
well authenticated. Thus there was no alternative but
for the House to proceed to vindicate its honour. A
resolution to the following effect was drafted : " That
Sir John Trevor, Speaker of this House, receiving a
gratuity of 1,000 guineas from the City of London, after
passing of the Orphans Bill, is guilty of a high crime
and misdemeanour." Extraordinary though it may seem
BUST OK (H.IVI.II CKOMUL
Tke gift of Mr. Wertheimer. A line effigy of the Pro-
tector, re|raud to l» the work of Utrnlnl.
Speakers — Famous and Infamous
345
to our modern way of look-
ing at things, it devolved
upon Sir John Trevor himself
to put this denunciation of his
guilty conduct to the House.
Shame would have over-
whelmed a less sensitive man,
but Trevor was not con-
stituted that way, though it
was with blanched cheek and
quivering lip that he put the
fatal question. There was a
roar of '• Ayes," and almost
complete silence when the
" Noes" were called. Slipping
out of his seat, Trevor made
for his home, there to hide
his face from the public gaze.
When the next day came
round, and the House awaited
with eager expectancy his
advent, a note was put into
the hands of the Clerk. It
was to the following effect : —
" GENTLEMEN, —
'• I did intend to
have waited on you this morn-
ing ; but, after I was up, I
wan taken suddenly ill with a
violent cholic. I hope to be
in a condition of attending
From the painting by Sir Peter Ldy in the Rational Portrait Gallciy.
GEORGE HONK, DUKE OF ALBEMARLE,
Whose historic declaration for a Free Parliament lod directly to the Restcratior-.
you to-morrow morning. In the meantime, I desire you will be pleased to excuse my attendance.
"I am, with all duty, gentlemen,
" Your most obedient humble servant,
"J. TREVOR, Speaker."
Anxious to avoid even the appearance of hasty action, the House adjourned until the next
day. Then another letter was forthcoming from Trevor intimating that his illness still
prevented his attendance. Upon receipt of this, the House decided to act in the only possible
way by expelling Trevor from the office he had dishonoured, and electing in his place a new
Speaker. The King put no obstacles in the way of the vindication of the House's good name ;
but he showed a little too much anxiety to secure the election of Sir Thomas Littleton, a
worthy country gentleman, to suit the independent spirit of the times. When the Comptroller
of the Household rose in his place and expressed his desire to " nominate " Sir Thomas
Littleton, members flared up, and the opinion was plainly expressed "that it was contrary to
the undoubted right of the House of choosing their own speaker, to have any person who
brought a message from the King to nominate one to them." To place the matter beyond
dispute, Mr. Paul Foley was put up in opposition, and on a division the Court nominee was
rejected by 179 votes to 146. Thereafter Mr. Foley was elected to the Chair unanimously,
the choice of the House being subsequently ratified by Lord Keeper Somers on behalf of the
King. The Speaker distinguished himself during his term of office by his vigorous intervention
44
346
Parliament Past and Present
in the debate* in opjw-ition to the measures of the King, particularly those relative to the
army. Tin* action, so opjiosed to nil modern notions of the duties of the Chair, appears to
have commended him to the House rather than not, for when a new Parliament was summoned
in 1695 he was re-elected without challenge, and continued to serve until IG'JS. when his old
rival. Sir Thomas Littleton, was apjiointed.
Trevor, meanwhile, though disgraced, was far from being ruined. He octunllv had the
effrontery to contemplate re-entering Parliament at the general election of Ifi'JS, and was only
prevented from submitting himself to the electors by the express commands of the King, who
gave as a reason for the prohibition that his re-admission might lead to " ineonvenii-ni'e."
through the revival of the old scandal. William III. was not jmrticularlv shocked at the
corruption of the ex-Speaker. The man's crime in his eyes was that he had been found out.
In thus regarding the incident, he only reflected the popular sentiment of that lax time, which
turned the whole scandal into a jest, and, in allusion to Trevor's physical defect, sjioke of
.' 'i iltVtftny M<I"
VIEW OF THE PARLIAMENTARY Bl'ILI)IN<;s AND SI'KAKKIt's 1I<U>K.
The fnfannew of the old buildingu compared with the magnificence of the present Houses of Parliament will be noted.
.In-tice being blind, while Bribery only squinted. That the feeling of indignation could not
have been very deep is conclusively proved by the fact that Trevor was permitted to retain
his judicial office of Master of the Kolls, and by the further circumstance that lie was one of
the eight Commoners elected to the first Privy Council. It has Keen left to posterity to
pronounce upon him the sweeping condemnation of being the most disgraceful figure who ever
occupied the Sjieaker's Chair.
It is pleasant to turn from the degrading associations of this late seventeenth-century period
tii the em which followed, in which the honoured name of Onslow conferred lustre on the
splendid office with which we are dealing. First to be noted, though second of the famous
line of Speakers, is Sir Richard Onslow. who was voted to the Chair in 1708. A hot-tempered.
somewhat vain, man, known to his intimates as "Stiff Dick," he showed himself during his
Sjieakership a great stickler for forms. One story, illustrative of this side of his character, is
told by Sir Arthur Onslow, his eminent relative and successor in office. According to this
authority, "When Sir Richard Onslow went up with the House to demand judgment against
Speakers — Famous and Infamous
347
Dr. Sacheverell, as the Mace was going into the House of Lords before the Speaker, the Black
Rod endeavoured to hinder it by putting his black rod across the door ; on which the Speaker
said : ' If he did not immediately take away the black rod, he would return to the House of
Commons.' The Black Eod asked him to stay a little and he would acquaint the Lords.
The door was shut down, and Mr. Speaker and the House stood without. After a little
time the door was opened, and Mr. Speaker with the Mace went in. As Mr. Speaker was
going to the Bar, the Black Eod attempted to interpose himself between the Speaker and the
Mace, upon which the Speaker said aloud : ' My Lords, if you do not immediately order your
Black Eod to go away, I will immediately return to the House of Commons.' Then Lord
Chancellor Cowper directed the Black Eod to go from thence. Then Mr. Speaker with the Mace
went up to the Bar. The Black Eod was then ordered to bring the prisoner, and the Black Eod
was going to put him on the right hand of Mr. Speaker, who upon that said : ' If you do not
order the Black Eod to go with the prisoner on the left hand of me at some distance, I will
return to the House of Commons.' Upon which the Lord Chancellor directed the Black Eod so
to do ; and then Mr. Speaker demanded the judgment, and the Lord Chancellor accordingly
pronounced sentence upon the prisoner kneeling at the Bar." " Stiff Dick's " sense of his
dignity, though perhaps excessive, was not without its value in securing respect for the Chair.
Markedly during his period of office there was a strengthening of the position of the Speaker
in the House and a growth in the prestige of the office outside.
But it was during the long term of office, lasting over thirty-three years and extending
through five Parliaments, of his distinguished nephew, previously referred to, that the Speaker-
ship attained to its highest point of eminence. Sir Arthur Onslow became Speaker in 1827,
five years after his entrance to the House as member for Guiklforcl. He was a man of vigorous
understanding, imbued with liberal ideas, and zealous in the discharge of his public duties. In
the Chair he soon acquired a reputation for firmness, tempered by sound judgment. His decisions
were rarely challenged, and on questions even outside his Parliamentary duties his views
carried great weight. Throughout the
thirty-three years he presided over the
deliberations of the popular chamber he
exercised almost despotic sway. Yet such
was the respect he secured by his im-
partiality and firmness that his re-election
on each of the five occasions he was
presented for the Royal approbation was
carried with enthusiasm. In common with
his kinsman, Sir Richard Onslow, he was
oxtn-mely punctilious. The respect due
to the Chair was exacted with unswerving
firmness on all occasions, and he was
quick to resent any disregard of its decrees.
" Naming a member " in his period of
office was a punishment which carried with
it a subtle terror for the Parliamentary
evil-doer. Invariably the process served
to bring the delinquent to a sense of his
criminality. A familiar story, current
in Parliamentary literature, asserts that
Onslow, once asked what the consequences
of disregarding a " naming " would be,
replied: "The Lord in heaven only
knows " ; but there is reason to think that SIR EDWARD SEYMOUR,
this is a legend put about by Some of An eminent Speaker noted for his haughty assertion of the dignity of the Chair
348
Parliament Past and Present
his critics in ridicule of hi- over) lowering
displays of dignity. Horace Walpole tells a
storv in a letter to Sir Horace Mann in 1758
which shows that at lea>t tliere was a strong
disjMi-ition to extract fun from the little weak-
ne.--.es of the Speaker. A debate wa- proceed-
ing in Committee in reference to some new
taxes. -Lord Strange said: '[ will bring
him down from the gallery.' and proposed
that (lie Speaker should lie exempt from
the place tax. He came down and besought
not to be exempted. Lord Strange per.-icted;
so did the Speaker. After the debate. Lord
Strange, going out. said: 'Well, did I not
show my dromedary well?' I should tell
you that one of the fashionable sights of
the winter has been a dromedary and camel,
the proprietor of which has entertained tin-
town with a droll variety of advert ise-
8PKAKKK rli.Mll.I.s Win. | HAN CORNWALL, inentS."
Who occupied the Chair from 1780 to i;s<>. He U immortalued in the Sir Arthur Olislow may Well be ]Kirdoiied
for taking an exalted view of his portion, and
of what was due to it from himself as well as others, for he thereby fixed a standard of rectitude
and personal sacrifice which has ever since been associated with the occupancy of the Chair.
How. ajmrt from the impertinent triflers of the House, his splendid services to the cau-e of
coiict it ut ional government were regarded is eloquently shown by the honours lavished UJMHI him
when, in ITtil, failing health compelled him to resign the post he had so long filled. The
Cor) Miration of the City of London presented him with its freedom "as a grateful and lasting
te.-tiniony of the respectful love and veneration" which the citizens entertained "of the un-
wearied and disinterested lalxmrs he bestowed, and the impartial and judicious conduct he
maintained in the execution of his important office." More substantial recognition of the
Speaker's cervices came from the King, who, at the direct request of the Commons, granted
an annuity of i'3,000 for the lives of himself and his son George. These grants were subse-
quently settled by an Act of Parliament, which was to supply a precedent for a permanent
-yetein by which the services of Speakers on relinquishing office were rewarded by a grateful
country. Sir Arthur Onslow's reputation as an interpreter of the rules of the House survived
long after he disappeared from St. Stephen's Chapel. A humorous proof of this is supplied
by an incident which is related of a debate a good many years alter his resignation. Burke
was inveighing with his customary ardour against a motion to prevent the publication of the
proceedings of the House, when he was brought up by a son of Sir Arthur Onslow. who
challenged his views, and recalled his family connection with three- Speakers as a circumstance
which entitled his own arguments to weight. Burke was quite equal to the occasion. "I have
not." he said with crushing scorn. " the advantage of a Parliamentary genealogy. I was not born,
like the honourable gentleman, with -Order' running through my veins. But as that gentle-
man boasts of his father, his son will never boast of him. The Parliamentary line is cut off."
The spirit of sturdy independence which Onslow assiduously cultivated during his tenure
of office was worthily sustained by his immediate successors. Sir John Cust and Sir Fletcher
Norton; the latter, indeed, if anything, improved upon the Onslow traditions. He was
particularly resolute in his attitude towards the House of I^ords. Once when there wa- a
disturbance amongst the members he called to the offenders •• with all the softness of a bas-oon,
4 Pray, gentlemen, be orderly; you are almost as bad as the other House,'" a jxmiled albicion
to a riotous scene which had occurred a short time previously in connection with a violent
Speakers — Famous and Infamous
349
dispute then proceeding between the two Houses as to the right of the Commons to be present
in the Peers' chamber during a debate. At another time — in 1772 — Burke having complained
with much indignation of a detention of three hours' duration at the door of the House of
Lords with a bill sent up from the House of Commons, and the House having in revenge
promptly rejected a bill sent down from the House of Lords, Norton tossed the measure across
the table on to the floor, and, with his tacit sanction, the document was literally kicked out
of the Legislative Chamber by an irate body of members. But the most striking example of
his lofty spirit is supplied by Horace \Valpole. The occasion was the presentation to the
King in April, 1777, of a bill providing for the payment of his Majesty's debts and augmenting
the Royal revenue by £100,OCO a year. In handing in the measure Norton made a speech
informing the King that his faithful Commons "had, in a time of public distress, full of
difficulty and danger, and labouring under burdens almost too heavy to be borne, granted him
a supply and great additional revenue, great beyond example, great beyond his Majesty's
highest expense (he really used the word ' wants,' but in his printed speech changed it to
'expense'), but hoping that what they had contributed so liberally would be employed wisely."
The speech gave great umbrage to the King, and a few days later, probably at his instigation,
reference was made to it by a member (Rigby), who took the Speaker severely to task for his
remarks. Norton, in his turn, was greatly incensed at the attack. He felt that his dignity was
outraged by a censure emanating from such a quarter, and would probably have resigned had
not Rigby, at the earnest solicitation of Lord North, apologised, and the House passed a
resolution ju>tifying him in the course he had adopted.
Though Norton was, as these incidents show, a strong Speaker, he was not a discreet one.
He is exhibited in a conspicuously unfavourable light by Walpole in a debate which took place
in Committee on March 13th, 1780, on a question bearing upon the revenue of the Crown.
Invited hv Charles Vox to give his opinion
on the doctrine of the inalienable character
of the King's revenue expounded by his old
antagonist Rigby, the Speaker, who was in
the gallery at the time, came down and 4i made
a warm and good speech against the increased
influence of the Crown." Not content with
this. " he broke out into the most extravagant
and profligate rhapsody that perhaps was ever
heard in that place, accusing Lord North of
duplicity, and expressing himself his personal
enemy on the grounds of a story he had the
impudence and absurdity to tell with as little
modesty in the high estimation at which he
rated himself. He acquainted the House that
the Duke of Grafton, when Minister, had
offered him the posts of Chief Justice in Eyre
and the Speakership, with a promise of the
best place in the law that should become
vacant, without which, as he thought himself
at the head of his profession, he would not
quit his business. He asserted that Lord
North had been privy to this bargain, and yet
had broken it by offering a large pecuniary
bribe to Lord Chief Justice de Grey to quit
c c nr jii » T i /Vow an tnfjraciny after the picture by Sir Jiiitrtf Jiuefjur/l, Jt.A.
that post in favour of \\ edderburn. Lord
XT j • i x- ) • f il THE BIGHT HON. HENRY DUNDAS, VISCOUNT MELVILLE,
North denied Norton s version oi the transac-
In regard to whose imi>eachment a memorable casting vote was given by
tion, and in the end "the dialogue clegener- speaker Abbot.
350
Parliament Past and Present
nted into Billingsgate." On a subsequent day, stung by the severe criticisms passed upon him
by the Press Norton offered a qualified aj>ology to tin- Mouse for his indecent behaviour. It
mu generally felt, however, that the outbreak was unpardonable in a Speaker, uud when, a
few months later, Norton came up for re-election, -Mr. Charles \Volfran Cornwall was put up
in opposition to him, and. on a division, elected by 203 votes to 17(i. Sir Fletcher Norton was
subsequently elevated to the j>eerage as ISaron (irantly.
The new Sjieaker was not a man of juirticular note as a politician, and his tenure of the
('hair was in harmony with his earlier career. His chief claim to distinction is that he figures
in the ItoUiad in these lines : —
There Cornwall MI*, ami. oh! unhappy fate,
Mn-t nit for ever through the long debate.
Painful pre-eminence ! He hears, 'tis true,
Fox, North, and Rurke — but hears Sir Joseph ' too.
Following Mr. Cornwall came two Speakers. William \Vyndham (irenville and Henry Addington,
both of whom were destined after quitting office to attain to the highest position in the
Ministry of the day.* Grenville's occupancy of the Chair was for a very brief period, and
he has left only a slight mark on the annals of the Speakership. Addington, on the other
hand, served during twelve busy, eventful years, his connection only being severed by his
elevation to the Premiership. He made a most capable Speaker. He was tactful and con-
ciliatory, and was endowed with the requisite firmness for dealing with (lie rather combustible
elements that went to make up the House of Commons at the end of the eighteenth eenturv.
The weakest and, for his own reputation, most foolish of his acts was to accept the King's
imitation to form an Administration on Pitt's resignation over the Catholic question in 1801.
Nature had not marked him out for a statesman. At the highest he was but a respectable
mediocrity with a talent for public business and sound judgment of men. As we have seen
in an earlier chapter, his failure as a First Minister was complete. In fact, it may be said
of him that while he was one of the best of Speakers,
he was one of the worst of Premiers.
Emerging into the nineteenth century, we reach
what we may describe as the line of modern Speakers.
Kir>t of this distinguished band was Sir John Free-
man-Mitford, who presided over the first House of
Commons which assembled after the Union with
Ireland. He occupied the Chair only a year, and
though the year was one of great political excite-
ment, he did not display any special talent in tin-
direction of the affairs of the House. History takes
account of him chiefly because he was the first to be
directly ennobled for services as Speaker. He took
his seat in the House of Lords as Lord Kedesdale.
His successor as Speaker was .Mr. Charles Abbot,
afterwards I^onl Colchester, who was elected in 1802
and held office for fifteen years. It is always diffi-
cult away from the period in which a Speaker lived
to decide precisely, upon the position he is entitled
to occupy, as his reputation is built up, not so much
upon what he does or says, as ujKm what he does not
WATEK-GATi:, Si:W P.M.ACK
TIIK
1 Sir Joseph MawU-y, a well-known bore of the period.
1 Four Speakers of the House of Commons have afterwards occupied the position of Premier— viz , Robert Harley,
elected Speaker in 17(Xi; S|*'n<-.r Compton, who, as Karl of Wilmington, was First I.ord of the Treasury in 1742-3;
William Wvndhani (irenville, afterwards Lord (irenville, who was the hend of "the Ministry of all the Talents"
in IS06-7; and Henry A. Idington, afterwards Ix>rd Sidmnuth who was Prime Minister from 1S01 to 1804.
Speakers — Famous and Infamous
351
ni an engraving after tlit picture by John Hoppner, R.A.
WILLIAM WYXDHAM, FIRST BABOX GBENVILLE,
Speaker for a. few months in 1789
say and what he refrains from doing.
In other words, the most successful occu-
pants of the Chair are those who have
to obtrude their individuality least on
the House. Speaker Abbot, estimated
by whatever standard may be set up,
is undeniably entitled to a position in
the front rank of those who have presided
over the House of Commons. His rule
was autocratic ; but there was a good
thick fold of velvet over the iron hand.
If at times members were made to feel
that his decisions were arbitrary, they
also had to admit that they were enforced
with all courtesy. In the popular mind
his Speakership will ever be associated
with the episode connected with the
passing of the resolution for Lord Mel-
ville's impeachment. Amongst the many
historic scenes which took place within
the walls of St. Stephen's Chapel this was
perhaps the most genuinely dramatic.
It may certainly be safely asserted that
nothing more moving ever passed there.
A few sentences of explanation are necessary to bring home to readers the full interest of the drama
that was enacted in the House of Commons on that eventful day in April, 1805. Charges of
corruption had been levelled against Henry Dundas, Lord Melville, P"irst Lord of the Admiralty,
in connection with his earlier official career as Treasurer of the Navy. The accusation was
that he had withdrawn large sums of public money from the Bank of England, placed them with
a private bank, and reaped a rich but ignoble harvest in the accruing interest. Testimony was
forthcoming of a damning kind, proving beyond question that the public funds had been utilised
in the way described, and the only question was as to Lord Melville's personal responsibility.
Public opinion, ever prone to think the worst, went strongly against him. It was argued that
the large transactions which had passed could not possibly have been put through without the
Minister's guilty acquiescence. In this position of affairs the matter was brought forward in
the House of Commons in the form of a motion for Melville's impeachment.
Pitt ably and energetically defended his colleague and friend from the aspersions cast upon
him, and other leading members eloquently espoused his cause. But the feeling against him in
the House was very strong. On a division being taken it was found that there were 216 members
for the impeachment and exactly the same number against. Then followed that remarkable
incident to which allusion has been made. Upon the Speaker's casting vote depended the
issue. How would he give it ? A thrill went through the House as members silently awaited the
decision. " Yet it was long," says one who was present,1 '' before the Speaker gave his vote ;
agitation overcame him ; his face grew white as a sheet. Terrible as was the distress to all
who awaited the decision from the Chair, terrible as was the Speaker's distress, this moment
of suspense lasted ten long minutes. There the Speaker sat in silence ; all were silent. At
length his voice was heard ; he gave his vote, and he condemned Lord Melville." The effect
of the decision on Pitt was striking. "At the sound of the Speaker's voice the Prime
Minister crushed his hat over his brows to hide the tears that poured over his cheeks. He
pushed in haste out of the House. Some of his opponents, I am ashamed to say, thrust
themselves near 'to see how Billy looked.' His friends gathered in defence around and
1 Mr. Mark Boyd.
352
Parliament Past and Present
WILLIAM WYXDHAM, LORD GREXVIU.K.
Another i«rtr»it of the Sjieaker of 1789.
screened him from rude gin.. Tin- (ir.-at Commoner.
it is believed, never completely recovered from the Mow.
So intimate had he been with Melville, and so conscious
was he of his rectitude, tlmt he felt tin- relle. -lion u]><in his
honour as he might if it had been ui»>n his own. Within a
few months of the occurrence of this ineident 1'itt was <-;irried
to his last rating-place in the Abbey.
In consonance with the vote of the House of Commons.
Melville was on April 29th. IKOfi. brought to trial before
his jieers, bit cue furnishing the last instance of an ini]>each-
ment which the records of the country supply. The impugned
Minister made a gallant defence, averring that the transactions
with which he was charged were carried through without
his knowledge or consent. Alter a patient investigation he
was acquitted of all personal corruption, and with that verdict,
pronounced by the great majority of his peers, the public
acquiesced. Even Wflberforoe, who took a leading part in
bringing about the trial, was sati>lied with the result, as is
clear from his diary, where he records with evident satis-
faction having by chance met Melville and shaken him
cordially by the hand — an experience, he says, which lie
would not have parted with for a thousand jKuinds.
Mr. Abbot's Speakership continued uninterruptedly until 1817, when he resigned through
failing health and was elevated to the peerage with the title of Lord Colchester. His
successor was Sir Charles Manners Sutton, who sat in the Chair during five successive Parlia-
ments, his entire period of service lasting eighteen years. A pleasant picture of this Speaker
is supplied by Mr. Grant in his " Kandom Recollections of the House of Commons." "A man
of more conciliating, bland, and gentlemanly manners." says this writer, "never crossed the
thre>hold of St. Stephen's. . . . He never suffered his political prejudices, strong as they
were, to interfere with the amenities of gentlemanly intercourse. The j>erfect gentleman \\as
visible in everything he said and did ; nay, it was visible in his very person, whether you
saw him walking in the streets or rilling the Chair in the House of Commons. There wa>
a mildness and good nature in his features which could not fail to strike the stranger the
moment he saw him. and which was certain of prepossessing every one in his favour. With
thi-M- softer and more amiable features there were blended a dignity and energy of character
which invariably secured the respect of members. . . . His voice was, without exception, the
mast sonorous, jtowerful, and melodious I ever heard ; its compass surprising when he called
<>ut. as he too often had occasion to do, ' Order, order !' The sounds, even when he nianile>tly
gave no play to his lungs, but sjwke with as little effort as if he had been speaking in a
whisper, fell on your ear — it mattered not in what part of the House you were at the time
with a loudness and depth of intonation which at once startled and delighted you. If very
great noise and confusion prevailed in the House at the time, and he consequently uttered
the words 'Order, order!' with some energy, you would have supposed you heard the voice of
a Boanerges."
Once, and once only. Sir Charles Sutton availed himself of the privilege of speaking
in Committee. The subject under deliate was a question affecting the privileges of the
I'niversity of Cambridge, of which he was member. His speech lasted about ten or fifteen
ininnto. "It did not." says Mr. (irant. "indicate a vigorous or comprehensive mind, but it
was. in the delivery, as fine a specimen of elocution as one could wish to hear.'' Though, as
Mr. (irant notes. Sir Charles Manners Sutton was widely popular and had a reputation for
im|»artiality. it was sometimes thought by the Li bends that he did not exercise his ]>owers
with absolute fairness. His critics averred that when several members rose to reply to a Tory
Hy prrninsinn "/M/,>s«
.r I'^^lri .\, .1 /( .W Street.
THE RIGHT HOMiLK. WILLIAM ( OfKT GULLY, K.C
-I'l AKKR Of I III mil s| 01 COMMONS.
llfl w.ti fint ni>i>4iintid !«• the Chair. »ftrr n c-.ul'-t. <>n tlir litli \]<nt i- •• He wiu rc-elvctwl without ..|'i-..in-.ii
on tin- mwtlnff of every Rulweii
Speakers — Famous and Infamous
353
speech of ability, he took care to fix his eye on the least talented of the members ; and
conversely, that when a number of Tories got up to answer a Liberal speech, he invariably
took particular pains to ensure that the ablest of the group should address the House. The
feeling of discontent culminated in a vigorous attack upon his position when a new Parliament
met on February 19th, 1835. The Whigs then put up in opposition to him James Abercromby,
a respected member who sat for Edinburgh. On a division this gentleman was elected by 316
to 310 votes. As a consequence of the vote, Sir Charles Manners Sutton retired to the House
of Lords with the title of Viscount Canterbury and the customary pension. The victory was
dearly gained, for Mr. Abercromby proved but an indifferent Speaker. Though personally an
estimable man, he lacked the force of character essential to an effective control of the House.
-His health, moreover, was too delicate to withstand the severe physical strain which the
Speakership imposes upon those who discharge its duties. His retirement in May, 1839, with
the title of Lord Dunfermline, was, therefore, hailed with something like satisfaction even by
those who had placed him in the Chair.
The filling of the vacancy led to another trial of party strength. On behalf of the Whigs
Mr. Charles Shaw Lefevre was proposed, and the Tories nominated Mr. Henry Goulburn. The
division showed that the opinion of the House was very much what it had been at the previous
contest. For Mr. Shaw Lefevre 317 votes were given, as against 299 cast for his opponent.
Events entirely justified the choice made by the House. In a career which extended over
eighteen years, Mr. Shaw Lefevre revealed the highest qualities as a Speaker. His knowledge
of Parliamentary procedure was deep and thorough, and his rulings were as invariably sound and
logical as they were impartial. When in 1841 Sir Eobert Peel came into power with a big
Conservative majority at his back, there was a desire amongst some of the more extreme of
his followers to elect a Speaker of their own political complexion. But the Tory Premier set
his face determinedly against this idea. As soon as Mr. Shaw Lefevre had been proposed for
re-election, he rose and seconded the motion
in a speech of considerable interest. His
contention was that the person elected to
the Chair who had conscientiously and ably
performed his duties should not, on a change
of Government, be displaced because his
political opinions were antagonistic to
those of the majority. The view set forth
was in harmony with the bulk of the
precedents furnished since 1727, when
Arthur Onslow was elected to the Chair,
and the House ratified it by a unanimous
vote. Thereafter Mr. Shaw Lefevre re-
mained in undisturbed possession of his
office until 1857, when he retired to enjoy
in the House of Lords, with the title of
Viscount Eversley, the well-earned fruits
of a laborious career.
His successor was Mr. John Evelyn
Denison, who, elected in 1857, continued
in office until 1872. He suffered some-
what by comparison with his brilliant
predecessor, but his Speakership, if not
particularly distinguished, witnessed no
diminution in either the efficiency or
dignity of the office. He was, however. CHARLES MANNERS SUTTON, VISCOUNT CANTERBURY,
not at all punctilious in his managemei.t speaker from ISIT to isss.
45
354
Parliament Past and Present
of the House. Palmer-ton, in one of his nightly re|iorts addressed from the Trea-ury Hench
to the Into Queen Victoria, mentions an incident which clearly brings tliis out. It happened
towards the end of the ><->»ion of 18(iO, when everylxxly \\asaiixious to got awav. " Members,''
he wrote, "are leaving town. Imt the tiresome ones, wlio have no occujiation of their own and
no chance of si-emu tlieir names in the news|>ii|M-rs when Parliament is up. remain to obstruct
and delay by talking. Tin- S)>eaker. who has not lieen ijiiite well, grows as ini|iatieiit as anv
oth'cial who lias liired a grousing moor and cannot get to it; and a few nights ago. when a
tin-Mime orator got up to speak just as an end to the debate hail IH-I-II expected, the Speaker
:m-d -Oh! oh!' in chorus with the rest of the House."
.Mr. Penis ni (thereafter to he known as Viscount Ossington) retired amid general good
wishes in 1872, giving place to .Mr. Henry Pxmverie linuul. It was this gentleman's lot to
officiate during one of the nio-i -Hiring and stormy periods of Parliamentary history. The
organisation of the Nationalist Irish party under the leadership of .Mr. Parnell and the
simultaneous development of the system of persistent obstruction of debates as a weajton of
partisan warfare, gave a vigour and liveliness to the proceedings which had never before been
surpassed, and only equalled, perhaps, in the Cromwellian period, when the Indejiendent and
Presbyterian factions were fighting for ascendency. It is imi>ossihle to go in any detail into
the actions of the Speaker in these, troubled days without trenching upon matters which lie
altogether beyond the province of a work such as this; and there is the less necessity for anv
such review as the facts are still fresh in the public memory. One episode only calls for
particular notice. This was the historic debate of January, 1881, on the motion to introduce
the Protection of Person and Property in Ireland Bill. Introduced at four o'clock on .Monday,
January :ilst, the motion was debated continuously by the Nationalist members throughout
that day and the whole of the
next, and Wednesday morning
still found the House engaged
upon the question. Every-
thing seemed to portend
another day's debate at least,
when at nine o'clock Mr.
Gladstone, the Premier, entered
the House, accompanied by
the leaders of the Opposition.
Simultaneously the Speaker
resumed the Chair, and, read-
ing from a paper, set forth the
reasons which in his opinion
icndered it necessary to put
an end to the debate, though
no power under the rules
existed to do so. A crisis.
he said, had arisen which
demanded the prompt inter-
position of the Chair and the
J louse. "The usual rules
have been proved powerl' •--
to ensure orderly and effective
debate. An important measure
recommended in her .Majesty's
gracious speech nearly a
CHABLKS SHAW I.EPEVBK, VISCOUNT K\i;i;-i.i:Y. month since, and declared to
fpnker from 1839 to 1857. J. wily cm.iidere.1 ,,M ,,l the grratwt of the line of Spoken.. be Urgent in the interests of
Speakers — Famous and Infamous
355
the State by a decisive majority, is
being arrested by the action of an
inconsiderable minority, the members
of which have resorted to these modes
of obstruction, which have been recog-
nised by the House as a Parliamentary
offence. The dignity, the credit, and
the authority of the House are seriously
threatened, and it is necessary that
they should be vindicated. ... A new
and exceptional course is imperatively
demanded, and I am satisfied I shall
best carry out the will of the House
and may rely on its support if I decline
to call upon any more members to
speak, and at once proceed to put the
several questions to the House. I
feel assured that the House will be
prepared to exercise all its powers in
giving effect to these proceedings."
Cheers, answered by defiant cries from
the Nationalist benches, punctuated the
reading of the document, the signifi-
cance of which was at once seen.
Thereafter, the House divided on the
several motions before it, and finally
adjourned after an unprecedented
sitting of forty-one and a half hours.
Mr. Speaker Brand's action on this
occasion was subsequently hotly
challenged by the Nationalists, but
the general sense of the House and
of the country heartily approved of
the step taken, and, in view of the issues involved, history will probably acquiesce in the
verdict on the principle that a desperate remedy may be legitimately employed in the relief
of a desperate disease. Out of this memorable incident originated the rules for the closure of
debate which are now an important and valued part of the system of Parliamentary procedure.
If he had no other title to fame, Mr. Speaker Brand's reputation would be established by
his firm and judicious conduct throughout these exciting times. But his claim to posthumous
recognition goes far beyond that, consisting, as it does, of a uniform discharge with high
distinction of the responsible duties of the Chair.
In Mr. (now Lord) Peel, whose elevation to the Chair followed the resignation of
Mr. Brand and his removal to the Upper House with the title of Viscount Hampden in 1884,
a successor was found entirely worthy to wear the dropped mantle. Bearing the name of one
of the greatest of modem British statesmen, richly endowed with the intellectual and physical
qualities which are most esteemed in a Speaker, and imbued in a strong degree with the
traditions of Parliamentary life, he leapt at once into a position of commanding authority and
influence. His firm, strong hand was felt immediately in the direction of the proceedings.
Infractions of the recognised rules met with stern and instant punishment. He steadily yet
courteously set his face against the smallest departure from the etiquette of the House, which
long centuries of usage had sanctioned and sanctified. In time even the most irresponsible
members were held under the spell of his striking personality, and would shrink into nothingness
By permission of " I'anitif Fair.'
JOHN EVELYN DEXISON, VISCOUNT OSSINGTON,
Speaker from 1S57 to 1ST2.
356
Parliament Past and Present
at the sound of his awe-
inspiring voice, or cvi-n ;ii a
glance of his penetrating <-\c.
No desjHitic monarch ever
commanded more unquestion-
ing allegiance or more abso-
lute obedience. Hi- wonder-
ful power over tin- House was
l>erli;i|>s never more impres-
sively revealed than in the
disorderly scene of July 27th,
1893, when his mere appear-
ance in the Chair served to
still angry passions which
had only a few minutes
previously vented themselves
with almost unexampled
violence and disregard of
personal dignity. A weak
man would have aggravated
the situation by injudicious
displays of temper or in-
discriminate dealing out of
censure. Mr. Peel avoided
these pitfalls. Calm and
dignified, he with a few
words allayed the raging
storm and brought the House to a sense of the shame which the earlier incidents reflected
ujion it. It was a triumph of the strong mind — a notable testimony to the influence of
character. When the circumstances which gave rise to the episode are forgotten, Mr. Peel's
action will be treasured amongst the most splendid of the traditions which cluster about the
Chair. It would, however, be a mistake to suppose that the great reputation which this
eminent S]>eaker secured was solely due to his masterly nature. The pink of courtesy, he
always in his relations with members maintained the pleasantest relations. No legitimate
appeal was ever made to him in vain from whatever quarter of the House it might come.
He regarded himself 'as in a real and personal sense the head of the legislative family, and
whether dispensing princely hospitality in the Speaker's House or discharging the more
practical duties pertaining to his office, he never permitted himself to make invidious distinctions
based either on social prejudice or partisan predilections.
His address to the House upon retirement from the Chair was a fit termination to his
illustrious career. The scene, not only in the House, but in the Lobby, was a memorable one.
Passing through the Lobby for the last time, he was saluted by, a crowd of members of both
Houses, and distinguished visitors. The appearance of the House, filled to its utmost capacity,
betokened an event of unusual importance, and when Speaker Peel rose from his seat he was
received with thunderous dicers by the whole House, and his farewell speech was punctuated
by loud demonstrations of applause. After referring to the cause of his retirement and the
consideration he had received from all sides of the House during Ids tenure of office, he said:
" If at any time I have given offence to any one member, or more members, I hope an Act
of Oblivion may be passed. If I have ever deviated from that, calm which should ever
characterise the utterances of the occuiwnts of the Chair, I have never been consciously actuated
by personal or political feeling. I have tried to consult the advantage and permanent interests
of this assembly. ... I have passed through many sessions, I have witnessed many changes "-
from a drawing by Jottph Slater,
JOHN EVELYN DEXISOX (AFTERWARDS VISCOUNT OSSINGTOS).
358
Parliament Past and Present
referring to the institution of tin- rloMiiv <>f delate. ••Finally." continued .Mr. Peel, -let me
say a few parting words in conclusion, and 1 wish to speak, not with the brief remnant of
authority which is still left to me with the .-amis of my official life rapidly running out — I
would rather sjteak as a member of thirty years' experience in this House, who speaks to hU
brother members and comrades if 1 may dare to use the term. I would fain liojn- that, by the
co-o]K*ration of all Us members, this House may continue to he a pattern and a model to
foreign nations, and to those great j>eople who have left our shores and have carried our blood,
our race, our language, our institutions, and our habits of thought to the uttermost jwrts of the
earth. I would fain indulge in the belief and the hoj>e — and as I sjx-ak with the traditions of
this House and its glorious memories crowding on my mind, that hope and that Ix-lief In-come
stronger and more emphar-ir-ed — though with both hope and belief I would couple an earnest.
but a humble prayer that this House may have centuries of honour, of dignity, of usefulness
before it, and that it may continue to hold, not a prominent only, hut a first and foremost
position among the legislative assemblies of the world." With some emotion .Mr. 1'eel referred
to the kindness he had experienced from all sections of the House — "a kindness the expre->ion
of which adds perhaps to the poignancy of my feelings and accentuates my regret on leaving
the Chair, but the memory of which will after a short time mitigate. I am sun-, to me the
inevitable ]iain of jmrting.'' The Peel tenure of the Chair will have a place in history with
the greatest of Parliamentary memorie-.
It was with MTJOUS misgiving that the House of Commons addressed itself to the tusk of
providing a successor to .Mr. Peel when, in 1895, somewhat M-rious indisposition prompted
.From a pkoto by UaM Jt Fox.
1I1.NKY BOUVEBIE BRAND, VISCOUNT HAMPDE.X,
Speaker of the Home of Common! from 1872 to 1884.
from a photo by J. Ruutll it- Soiu.
THE niOIIT HON. VISCOUNT PKKI., KOtTR TIMK8 ELECTED
SPKAKKR OK THK HOUSE OK COMMONS.
He to the youngest ion of the celebrated Prime Minister, Sir Robert r*el.
360
Parliament Past and Present
him to seek his well-earned repose in the House of I/mls. A Sj>eaker is always difficult to
replace; a successful one can never be adequately replaced— immediately at least. Those who
occupy the Chair grow into tin- ]N»siti»ii. as it \vcrc. As they are necessarily untried in the
duties of the oilier, they have tn establish their influence and their own traditions before the
lli.iiM- can be induced to extend to them that unqualified allegiance which is indispensable to
the smooth working of the Parliamentary inaehine. Such was the perplexity which Mr. I'eel'.s
n-tiremeiit cau>ed that each party resolved to put forward a nominee for the office. The
favoured Sir Matthew White Ridley, a highly respected and widely experienced
member of their party, who in manv
rc>i lonsible ]M)sitions had shown him-
self possessed of those special personal
qualities which are most desirable
in a Speaker. On the Liberal side
Mr. William Court Gully was adopted
as candidate. This gentleman oc-
cupied a ]x).sition of considerable
eminence at the Bar, but he had up
to that time not been at all pro-
minent in Parliament. What the
House knew of him, however, was
all to his advantage, and his fine
presence, courtly bearing, and un-
tarnished reputation convinced the
Liberals, who were in the ascendency
at the time, that in voting for him
they were making a suitable choice.
The result of the division in the
circumstances was a foregone con-
clusion. For Mr. Gully 285 members
voted, as against 274 who supported
Sir Matthew White Ridley's candi-
dature. The contest left a little
soreness in the minds of the Unionist
party, who had regarded Sir Mat t hew
White Ridley's claims as incontest-
ably superior to those of his oppo-
nent ; but this soon wore away in
the presence of Mr. Gully's tactful
and impartial discharge of his duties.
Hence it happened that when the
l'n ion Ms came back to power shortly
afterwards they confirmed him in his position, and he was, quite as a matter of course, again
re-elected by the new House of Commons which assembled after the general election of 1900.
Many years of useful work in the Chair are, it may be hoped, still before him. It would,
therefore, be quite out of place in a work of this description to attempt anything like a survey
of his career. We may, however, with confidence anticipate that the verdict which history
will write ujion his Speakership will be neither unflattering to him in a personal sense nor
lacking in appreciation of the virtues which repose in his quiet, undemonstrative, yet strong
handling of the House during his term of office.
SI'KAKEKS COBKIDOR. HOUSE OP COMMONS,
Affording n iminunicatiiin iKtween the Sjiraker's Hoiut anil the legiilative apartments.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
PARLIAMENT IN BEING— THE HOUSE OF COMMONS AT WORK.
THE first function performed by a newly elected House of Commons is the election of the
Speaker, who is chosen, generally unanimously, as president of the assembly and mouthpiece
of the House as a whole. The ceremony is interesting and attractive as marking the first act
the chosen representatives of the people perform in Parliament when assembling together for
the first time.
The House on these occasions presents an animated appearance. Fresh from the House
of Lords after receiving directions from his Majesty's Commissioners to proceed to elect their
Speaker, members crowd the benches, and the galleries are also full of visitors. The pro-
ceedings are opened by the Clerk of the House, who, as the chief permanent official, rises
from his seat at the table and points with his finger to a gentleman who, it has been
arranged, is to propose a fellow member for Speaker. The motion is seconded by another
member, usually belonging to the opposite political party when the choice of Speaker is
unanimous, and both proposer and seconder are generally leading but unofficial members of
their respective parties. No other nomination having been made, the Speaker-elect rises in
his place and expresses his sense of the honour proposed to be conferred upon him, and his
willingness to accept the office. He is then
conducted along the floor to the Speaker's Chair,
from the steps of which he tenders his thanks
and acknowledgments to the House and seats
himself in the Chair amid loud cheers. The
mace, which until now has been under the table,
is placed upon the table by the Sergeant-at-
Arms in full view of the House — a position it
occupies during the sitting of the House with
the Speaker in the Chair. Congratulations to
Mr. Speaker-elect are then made by the lead-
ing members, and the House immediately
adjourns. In the event of more than one can-
didate being proposed for the office, a debate
and division follow, the Clerk of the House
directing the proceedings, and appointing the
tellers for the division. Upon only two occasions l
during the last sixty-three years has a contest
occurred. The next day the Speaker-elect
(without his official robes or wig, but in Court
dress), attended by the Commons, proceeds to
the House of Lords to receive from the Lord
Chancellor the approval of his Majesty the King,
which having been given in due form, the First
THE HOUSE IS CONSTITUTED.
The Sergeant-at-Anr.a in the act of placing the
mace ujxm the table.
1 In 1839 Mr. Charles Shaw Lefevre, afterwards Viscount Eversley (Liberal), was elected Speaker over Mr. Henry
Goulbutn (Conservative) by 317 against 2i»9 votes. In 1895 Mr. William Court Gully, Q.C. (Liberal), was elected over
Sir Matthew White Ridley (Conservative) by 285 against 274 votes.
361 46
362
Parliament Past and Present
Commoner claims for himself and on behalf of the Commons all their undoubted rights
and privileges, "esjiecially freedom of speech in debate, freedom from arrest of their Bisons
and nervants, and above all freedom of access to his .Majesty whenever oceasion shall require
it." He also prays that if any error may lie committed it shall lie imitated to him alone.
and not to the faithful Commons. The, I»rd Chancellor, on behalf of the King, confirms all
the rights and privileges, and the Speaker and Commons return to their own House. The
former then takes the oath as follows: •• I. , do swear that I will be faithful to his Maje>iy
King Edward VII., his heirs and successors, according to law. So help me. God." The IIUMU<-»
of swearing in members proceeds in an apiMtinted order, the Speaker going through the
ceremony first. It is optional whether members take the oath or make an affirmation to the
same effect.1
The House of Com-
mons may now be said to
be properly constituted for
the transaction of business.
This begins each «•»!.. n, as
already described, with his
Majesty's speech from the
throne in the House of
Lords, delivered by the
Sovereign or the Royal
Commissioners appointed
under the Great Seal, in the
presence of the Commons.
who have been summoned
to the Bar of the Upper
House by the Black l\od.
The speech relates events
of public importance which
have happened since the last
prorogation, the Government
legislative programme for the
ensuing session, and other
matters of national interest
it is thought desirable
to communicate to the
nation.
The propoMr and wcuoder conduct the Speaker-elect along the floor of the Hooae to the Speaker'. f^\e recO<mised peril id
occupied by an ordinary
session of Parliament is six months of the year— the Houses meeting at the beginning of
February, and proroguing by the middle of August, with short intervals of adjournment at
Easter and Whitsuntide. It not infrequently happens, however, that exceptional pressure of
public affairs or financial exigencies render it necessary for the Houses to sit until late in
the summer, or hold a further meeting before Christinas. The decision as to whether an
adjourned sitting is necessary rests with the Government, but the hours of meeting and the
general arrangements for conducting business in the House of Commons are regulated by
standing orders and sessional resolutions, agreed to by the House itself, while certain unwritten
customs prevail, the breach of which i.s quickly resented. The time of meeting has varied
according to the social customs of the period. Turning to the journals of the House, we find
that in 16()4 members assembled at 6 a.m., and a few years later at 7 a.m. In 1641, on
' Formerly the oath, by a xtatute of the 7th Elizabeth, was taken before the Lord Steward, but the enactment was
repealed in Is2!t, and the present procedure substituted.
INIH'CTIOX OF Till: SI'KAKEK-KI.KCT.
I 3
- B
s »
364
Parliament Past and Present
S\YKA1(I.N<; IS .MK.M11KKS AT Till: Hoi M: or co.MM<>\>.
Mciuberj taking the tiatb at tho table at the ojiening of a new Parliament*
Sunday. August 8th, a meeting took place at 6 a.m. to enable members to attend St. Margaret's
Church to hear prayers and sermon. It was a long service, apparently, for the return to the
H..n>e was not made until nine o'clock. The House rose at twelve o'clock in the day. hater
on the custom of early sittings was abandoned, and the hour of assembly was fixed for twelve
o'clock. It gradually got later until in the middle of the eighteenth century, when m-.-mbers
n. ei a- late as four o'clock, and the sittings were conducted without any stated time for
adjournment. This arrangement continued until recent times, when a revision of the rules
was made, by virtue of which the House met on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays
at three o'clock, and sat until not later than 1 a.m., no opposed business being taken after
midnight. On Wednesdays the sitting lasted from 12 noon until 6 p.m. The day was given
up to the discussion of private members' bills, excepting towards the close of the session,
when the Government monopolised the whole time of the House with its own work. In
the present session a sweeping change in the whole system of arranging business has been
made after prolonged debates in the House. Under the new rules, on Monday, Tuesday,
\\edne-day, and Thursday tin- sittings commence at 2 p.m. and may extend to 1 a.m.. with
an adjournment for dinner between 7.30 p.m. and 9 p.m., and Friday becomes the ..ft' day.
the hours of business being from 12 noon to 6 p.m., as on Wednesday under the old -\>tnn.
The bti-ine>s of the session commences with the consideration of the Royal speech, but
the discii.-.-ion is actually entered upon, in order to assert the right to act without
reference to any authority than their own, the Commons (and also the Lords) invariably at
the beginning of each session read a bill a first time pro forma. In the Lords this cn.-toin
is regulated by standing order, in the Commons by usage. The practice in the House of
< '.minions takes the form of the Clerk holding in his hand a dummy form of a bill and
reading out the title: "Outlawries Bill— for the more efficient preventing clande>tine outlawries."
Parliament in Being — The House of Commons at Work 365
The bill is thus read a first time and ordered to be read a second time, but no day is fixed
for further proceeding with it. In the session of 1794 a member endeavoured to raise a
debate upon this proceeding, but the Speaker ruled him out of order.
The origin of this formality may probably be traced to the reign of James I., as in 16041
the Houses were occupied with a case respecting the liberties and privileges of the Commons.
The incident arose out of the election of Sir Francis Goodwin as knight of the shire for
Bucks, and the refusal of the return of his election by the Clerk of the Crown — " Quia utlegatus
(outlawed)." Another writ was issued and Sir John Fortescue elected. A long debate took
place, and it was decided " Sir F. Goodwin was duly elected and (de jure) ought to be
received." He took the oath and his seat in the House. The House of Lords took the
matter up and requested a conference with the Commons ; the latter objected, stating " that they
do conceive it does not stand in honour and order of the House to give account of any of their
proceedings and doings." On the intervention of the King eventually a conference took place
with the judges, with the result that it was decided that neither member was allowed to have
the seat, and a warrant for a new election was allowed by the Commons, they having admitted
that by receiving Goodwin " outlaws may be makers of laws, which is contrary to all law," and
an Act was prepared "that outlaws henceforward shall stand disabled to serve in Parliament."
The inference from this seems to be that the Commons, resenting the interferences of
Lords and King in 1604, although it was apparently justified in the particular case, from that
time to the present have introduced an Outlawries Bill in form every session, but in doing so
have taken the opportunity of acting in the matter independent of the Royal message as to the
cause of Parliament being summoned — a sort of retaliation for having in former days been com-
pelled to admit itself in the wrong in insisting upon an outlaw taking his place in the House.
LOWER SMOKISG-BOOM, HOUSE OP COMMONS.
A popular place of resort for members, who are permitted to introduce their friends without restriction.
Parry's " Parliaments and Councils."
366
Parliament Past and Present
NVI.cn «li.- Kins,''* s|«-ivh i* reached, tin- Speaker, explaining that he has obtained -for
greater accuracv " a copy of tin- document, reads it to tin- House, and meanwhile it is
circulat.d l'\ the Vote Office to mcml>crs <>f tin- Commons and tin- representatives of the
l'ri.-» Tu.i >up|Kirtcrs of tin- (iovernm. nt now respectively projioM' and M-c,.nd an address
thanking \u- Maj.-ty. It is tin- practice for these gentlemen to appear in Court dr.- or
uniform, a <-u-t..m f..r which no al»olut.- iva>on can be a-i-n-'d. though it hus bt-i-n conjectured
l.y Parliamentary authorities that this is the laM ri-mains of what was seen in the middle of
the nineteenth .vntury when "the floor of the lloux- presented a gay scene ; menders wore
thiir orders and Mars 'glittered on the benches, both to the right and left of the Speaker."
A notal.le evreptiou to the old custom took place a few years back, when one of the Labour
VOTE OPFICK.
Krom thu office tlie vot« and ]iruccrding>, BilU, and rarliamentary |np«n are leraed U> member!. The department i« tinder the control of
the Siwaker.
members who was selected to second the address appeared in ordinary evening dress upon the
-ion.
The discussion of the King's speech may range over the whole field of politics — Govern-
ment doings and misdoings during the recess, proposals of legislation and non-propo^ls, and
mailers of general intere.-t— and although in former times the debate was usually finished in
one or two nights, in recent sessions a week has been considered a moderate time to occupy;
occasionally a fortnight or even longer has been taken up by the various questions rai>cd.'
An im]x>rtant paragraph appear in the IJoyal mes.sige and is addressed to members of the
House of Common;, only. It Mates that tl stimates for the public service shall he presented
to them, anil n\xm the conclusion of the general debate upon the speech the House resolves
that upon a certain day it will appoint the Committee of Supply to consider the demands of
' In the year 1887 sixteen sittings worn occupied by the proceedings in connection with the Queen's speech.
367
368
Parliament Past and Present
the Sovereign for means to maintain tin- Army and Navy, and other branches of the public
service. The Committee having thus U-cn set up. certain allotted da\- are thenceforward
devoted throughout the session to it. As a corollary to Supply, the Committee of Ways and
Means accompanies its j»artner through the session, devoting its attention to the manner in
which the supplies granted shall be raised, its chief function being the consideration of the
Budget resolutions of the Chancellor of the Exchequer, who in Committee of Ways and .Means
sets forth his pro]M>«als by presenting a balance sheet for the year of the finances of the
nation, explaining what revision, addition, or reduction of taxation is to take phce.
A confusion sometimes arises in the minds of newcomers as to the functions and practice
of these two Committees. They are distinct from each other, each comprising the whole House
without a Speaker. The president is a member (empowered to act as Deputy Speaker when
necessary). He is apjtointed for the 1'arliament, with a salary of £2,500 per annum.1 The
proceedings of the Committees are subject to the revision of the House itself, and although
the Commons may amend the Committees' proceedings, which eventually form a bill, the House
of I-ords cannot amend or alter, but only pass or reject it. Supply decides the amount of
money to be granted and the manner in which it shall be spent; Ways and .Mean* the method
of raising it.
Prayers are read daily by the Speaker's chaplain immediately after the Speaker enters
the House. At ] ravers (In-
doors are closed and no
strangers or representatives
of the Pressure permitted to
be present. The occupants
of the ladies' (iallcry are
not disturbed, for this ]«»•-
tion of the Chamber having
a brass •• grille " in front is
technically outside the pre-
cincts of the House. Tin-
Speaker, standing at tin-
table, gives the res]K»nses.
and members present stand at their places in front of their sec-its. Attendance is optional at
prayers ; but by attending a member is entitled to secure a particular seat until the rising of
the House, he fixing thereon a card, provided for the purpose, with his name upon it. .Minister.-
of the Crown, who occupy the front bench on the right of the Speaker, and ex-.Ministers that
on his left, have seats permanently allotted to them. While Committees are sitting, members
serving upon them, and in attendance, are entitled to the privilege of securing a seat in the
House before prayers by applying for a particular kind of ticket at the Vote Office.
The system of securing places has been adopted in consequence of the insufficiency of tin-
seat ing accommodation2 for the whole House at one time; but by general practice a seat is
usually reserved for a member who has left his hat upon it, and by courtesy members of long
standing and generally recognised position are usually conceded the right to occupy the same
places. At times of special interest so great is the anxiety to secure a seat that members
will arrive before daylight ; and upon the introduction of the Home Kule Hill by Mr. Gladstone
in 1K92. Mr. Speaker Peel was asked to fix an hour before which no seat should be appropriated.
He decided that upon this particular occasion twelve o'clock noon would be reasonable, and
stated that "great inconvenience, almost indecorum, has arisen from members coming into this
House at the dawn of day, and even before it. The House has to be cleaned, and the servants
have to be here for the pur)K>se, so that if members arrive at an inconveniently early hour it
will interfere with that proceeding." At the appointed time a crowd of members assembled
1 In the present session a Deputy Chairman has been appointed, without ,-alaiy.
1 The number of seat* for the use of members in the Honse at the present time is 440.
MAKINU A IIOfSK.
A member U by custom allowed to reserve n seat by placing his bat on the place he desires to
occupy.
I
47
370
Parliament Past and Present
at the d<x>r of the House, tin- whole of the scats wen- quickly appropriated, and chairs placet!
along tin- floor.
A quorum i- necessary at tin- lx-ginning of business, anil, prayers being concludctl, the
S|H«aker mav. if he thinks tit, count the HOUM-. If forty members are present, he takes the
Chair; if not, wait ing until four o'clock, he counts again, and the requisite number still not
intending, lie adjourns the lloti-e till next day. Why forty forms the quorum out of a House
of six hundred and se\enty members is a question that frequently occurs to a newcomer, and
e\en the experienced memU-r may not !»• aware that in 1G40 the Commons decided that "it
he a constant rule that Mr. Speaker is not to go into the Chair till there be at least forty
memlMTs in the House." It has IM-CH conjectured by a historian of that period that as forty
\\.-i- the number of English counties (excluding Wales), the intention of the House was that
the equivalent number of members, one for each county, should be present for the transaction
of affairs. Whatever the origin of the rule, it is strictly observed. Upon notice being taken
that fortv members are not present, the Speaker orders strangers to withdraw, and electric
U-lls are rung throughout the building for two minutes, giving notice to those within the
precincts <>f the fact that the House is about to be counted, and if a quorum is not forthcoming,
the House at once adjourns.
Many and ingenious
devices are adopted by
members interested in the
burking of particular business
to secure an adjournment by
the simple means of reducing
the attendance below the
minimum. There is a well-
authenticated story of a new
member who had rushed in
breathless at the summons
of the electric bells for a
count being met at the en-
trance to the Lobby by an
arch-plotter with a bland
invitation to pair, and of his
falling innocently into the
trap and going contentedly away, while his absence just served to make the "count" successful.
Petitioning Parliament for the redress of grievances is, in the words of Lord Peel, when
Speaker, "an ancient and most valuable right, but its value can only be maintained if the
pi-tit ions presented to this House are genuine, authentic, and are the free and unfettered
expression of the wishes of the people." The words were spoken in 1887, when one Reginald
Kidmead, brought to the Bar of the House by the Sergeant-at-Arms, was publicly reprimanded
for forging sixteen or seventeen hundred names to various petitions, an offence for which, he
was reminded, men had in quite recent times been committed to Newgate. It is therefore of
some importance that the practice and general rules governing these expressions of the wishes
of the people to their representatives should be understood, although in these days less weight
is perhaps attached to this method of calling attention to grievances. Upon receiving the
l>etition, which may be despatched free of postage within certain limits, before presenting
it to the House the member must see that it is written in the English language, or if
accompanied by a translation, he must certify that it is correct (printed, lithographed, or
tyjH'written documents are not accepted), and the address of every person signing the petition
must also be there. Moreover, the language used must be respectful and temperate, free
from imputations upon the character of Parliament, the administration of the law or other
constituted authorities; nor is reference permitted to be made to any debate in Parliament,
BUSINESS INDICATOR, SMOKIKU BOOM, HOCSK OP COMMONS.
Deugned to .bow member* the petition of bumno* in the Uoate of Commons at a giren moment
Parliament in Being — The House of Commons at Work 371
although if the petition relates
to any matter or subject to which
the member presenting it may
intend calling attention, he may
propose that the petition be
printed and circulated with the
proceedings of the House. It is
the practice for the member to
sign his name at the top as a
means of identification, and he
may present it openly to the
House after prayers, or deposit
it less publicly in the proper
quarter by placing it in a large
bag hanging at the side of the
table. A more picturesque
method with regard to petitions
from the Corporation of the City
of London is adopted. The
Sheriffs attending in their State
robes are permitted to come to
the Bar of the House, and the
Sergeant-at-Arms, with the mace,
introduces them. The Corpora-
tion of Dublin are entitled to
the same privilege, their Lord
.Mayor, fully accoutred with his
emblems of office and attended
by his officers, entering the pre-
cincts of the House, and, being
observed by the Speaker, is
challenged by him. li My Lord
.Mayor of Dublin, what have you
there ? " the answer being a re-
cital of the substance of the
petition. The time-honoured custom of entertaining a number of members to dinner at the
House is followed by both the Sheriffs of the City of London and the Lord Mayor of
Dublin. All petitions presented to the House are referred to a Select Committee appointed
early in the session : they are carefully examined, and reports are periodically published
giving a general summary of the particulars of the prayer and number of signatures, the actual
petitions being stored away among the archives of Parliament.
Question time affords an opportunity for the stranger visiting the House of witnessing
one of the most interesting periods of the sitting, and supplies a means of identifying
many of the unofficial members and most of the Ministers. Many and varied are the topics
touched upon, from the supposed unfair treatment of an obscure postal official in the West
of Ireland to the latest move of the Government in their foreign policy. The answers given,
although sometimes purely of the departmeiital order, are not infrequently amusing and
entertaining. An attempt to corner a Minister by a well-timed supplementary question arising
out of his answer is invariably received by his opponents with acclamation ; the skilful answer
turning the tables upon the inquirer never fails to be appreciated by both sides of the House.
Notice of questions for a future day are written out and handed in to the Clerk of the Table
and are subject to revision under the direction of the Speaker ; they then appear in the
ST. STEPHEN'S PORCH, OLD PALACE YARD.
The public entrance to the House of Commons, House of Lords, and Westminster Hall.
372
Parliament Past and Present
printed prm din<;s of the Hou<e. and in din- course lake their place U]KUI tlit> orders of the
day. They may !«• an>wered onilly or by means of the answers being printed and circulated
with the votes the following morning. The questions are ground for the convenience of
Minister.-; those to the Leader of the lloii-e are by arrangement placed at the bottom of
tlio list, a sN.-tem which was adopted when .Mr. Gladstone was I'rime Minister, in order to
afl'ord him tlie opportunity of arriving at the House later in the afternoons. The practice is
for the Speaker to call ujwn the member whose name appears first upon the li>t. The
gentleman indicated then rises in his place and says: "I beg to ask the Chancellor of the
Kxeheiiucr question No. 1," as the case may be, and so on, it being contrary to the rule
now to read the terms of the questions, although until recent years the practice of reading
GROUP OF VOTK OFFICE .MI>SKX<;K11S.
The cori» employed to distribute the votes and proceedings and Parliamentary i»i«rs amongst the members.
them throughout was retained. The change was brought about in consequence of a section
of members during a stormy period of politics making full use of this opportunity of
prolonging the proceedings by asking a great many questions of extreme length, upon
subjects of limited interest, and reading them word for word. The Minister concerned has
had notice of the question to be asked sent him, and when the time arrives to reply, he
usually reads out the answer which has been written out by the officers of his department*.
In matters considered urgent a private notice sent the same day may suffice, and where
the general convenience of the House is concerned, a question may be asked and answered
without previous notice. The popularity of questions may be gauged from the fact that while
the number handed in varies according to the period of the session, it is not an uncommon
experience to find seventy or eighty upon the order paper for one day. Even upwards of a
hundred of such questions have been known to be asked and answered at a single sitting.
The ambition of the representatives of the people to prove their usefulness in Parliament
.From n draviAg by A. D. McContick.
HAYOH AXD SHERIFFS ATTENDING IN THE1E EOBE8 OF OFFICE TO PRESENT A PETITION AT THE BAB OF THE
HOUSE OF COMMONS.
Tlie Corporation of the City of London shares with the Dublin Corporation the right of directly presenting a petition to the House of Commons.
373
374
Parliament Past and Present
U strikingly shown by the number of public lulls introduced in each session1 by unofficial
members on both sides of the House. The distinction between private and public hills is
wide, for though each class undergoes equivalent treatment in tin- House bv being read three
times, the Committee stage is of an entirely dittVn-nt nature. In tin; ii it rod net ion of a private
or local bill the House mu>t first lie approached by petition (as was the svstem for public
bills up to the reign of Henry VI.). and seeking, as the measures do, powers to construct
railways, tramways, and facilities for gas and water undertakings, or similar projects, their
j.a-age through Parliament is conducted mainly by agents employed by the promoters of the
bills. The jmrticulars are thoroughly sifted by a small Committee, and counsel are engaged
and heard both for and against the details. Though the House may reject a private bill on
second or third reading, this course is rarely followed.
Public bills introduced by the Government of the day form the main features
of the order pajwr. They have all the facilities for being introduced and considered the
executive can command, and in the later months of the session the whole time of the
House is usually
in the hands of the
Mini>ters. The un-
official or so-called
private member is in
a very different posi-
tion. His little
measure may meet
at every turn with
delays and misfor-
tunes, and mav drag
its weary life through
the whole session
without getting be-
yond the initial
stage, disappearing
in the closing days.
At the outset the
elements of chance
have to be en-
countered, a ballot
deciding priority of
first reading or in-
troduction. The
ballot is really for
first places on an
early Friday of
the session, for the
longer the second
reading is delayed
the less chance a bill
will stand of being
discussed. Therefore,
excepting for the
.. ,,i«,to i,y <•/,. first few Fridays
THE "AYK" DIVISION I.OIIIIY. f .,,, ...
One of tb« ill vUion lobbte* »t the Me of th« Hutue of Common) into which members go when a division ii called
able amount of m-
1 Tbrce liumln.il public bills were introduced in the session of 1901 .
Parliament in Being — The House of Commons at Work 375
A STOBAGE BOOM, VOTE OFFICE.
One of the chambers in the basement in which Parliamentary papers are stored.
genuity will be exercised in fixing a day for second reading, when the principle of the bill is
discussed— this stage being the critical one, as by general practice the first reading is allowed
without objection, although in some cases the House has exercised its right in refusing to allow
the introduction of a bill.1 The measure is introduced in " dummy " form, simply bearing its
title, but before second reading it is by order of the House printed and circulated among
members, who have the privilege of sending to their constituents and others interested an
authorised number of copies, which are despatched from the Vote Office free of postage,
members signing their names upon the corner of the wrappers provided for the purpose.
This, the last remains of the old "franking" system abolished in 1840, is a privilege keenly
appreciated by members, many thousands of copies of the various measures introduced being
annually circulated throughout the kingdom.
The second reading accomplished, Committee, and, if the bill is amended, report stage as
well as third reading have to be gone through. Here another dilemma presents itself, for the
chance of a measure passing this ordeal before Whitsuntide is remote, unless it is of such
a nature that opposition may be disarmed. On the third and fourth Fridays after Whit
Sunday bills are arranged upon the order paper so as to give priority to those most forward,
and the session being so far advanced, Government business occupies the whole time of the
House for the remainder of the session. With this brief survey of the difficulties experienced
by a private member in getting his little bill through the Commons alone, afterwards to pass
the scrutiny of the Upper House, it may be readily understood that not five per cent of the
non-Government measures introduced have an opportunity of even being discussed.
The right of voting supplies of money for the public service, a reference to which has
1 On June 17th, 1875, Dr. Kenealy was refused leave to bring in a bill in favour of triennial Parliaments.
376
Parliament Past and Present
air.-u.lv been made, is a function which has been vested in the Commons for centuries, and is
one of the most ancient rights possessed by that assembly. A considerable amount of Unit-
is occupied by supply, and of recent years it has been found necessary, with the curtailment
of the hours of sitting, to frame special rules1 for the purpose of keeping the discussions
within reasonable limits. After the estimates are presented and printed, Thursdays are allotted
almost exclusively for considering them, the House going into Committee without previous
discussion immediately after private business and questions are finished. Twenty days, subject
to three additional days being proposed at the discretion of the Government, all before
August 5th. are allowed for the Army, Navy, and Civil Service estimates, including votes on
account. On the last but one of the allotted days, at 10 p.m., the Chairman puts forthwith
every question necessary to dispose of the outstanding votes, and the following day, also at
10 p.m., the Sjieaker adopts a similar method to complete the rei>ort stages. Supplementary
estimates relating to a previous session and votes of credit are exempted from these rules.
A standing order of the House gives facilities for raising a preliminary discussion on first
going into Committee of Supply on the Army, Navy, and Civil Service estimates respectively,
or a vote of credit, should an amendment he moved relating to the estimates proposed to be
taken. This is popularly known as " moving the Speaker out of the Chair," and in the case
of the Army and Navy affords an opportunity for a general survey of the position of these
important parts of the public service. In Committee considerable latitude is allowed in
discussing the items of the estimates, and a reduction or omission of any of them may be
proposed to accentuate a particular grievance brought forward, but although the Commit tee.
or subsequently the House on report, may grant, refuse, or reduce an item in the estimates,
an increase cannot be proposed.
For centuries the House possessed
no power of terminating a debate,
but the prolonged sittings of 1881
on the introduction of a Government
bill for the better protection of
person and property in Ireland led
the Speaker (Mr. Brand), after a
debate lasting forty-two hours, to
refuse further discussion, and it be-
came evident that some rule was
necessary to govern such proceedings
in future. The power now possessed
by the House of closing a debate
has been substantially in its present
form in operation since 1887, al-
though the principle of a closure
was agreed to in 1882, a special
autumn session in the latter year
having been held to deal with the
rules of proceduie. The decision
of the House then upon the question
placed the responsibility upon the
Speaker of initiating the closure by
interpreting the " evident sense of
the House." But the standing order
now in force allows any member to
rise in his place after a question
has been proposed, and to move
Frvat a dmteing by J. II'"
PASSAGE OF MR. GLADSTONE'S SKCOND HOME BBLE BILL FROM THE
HOUSE OF COMMONS TO THE HOUSE OF LOKDS.
The Clerk of the Home of Common* am In the bill to the Bar of the Home of Ixmb
1 Since 1896 a sessional resolution has been agreed to early each session dealing with the business of supply.
From tht painting by G. f. It'attx, /?./4., by hit special
THE MARQUESS OF SALISBURY, K.G.
Tin but of Yueem Victoria . Prime Mini. tor. He wu drat tpixilutnl la the liinhot office In the Mlnlntry In l»3, «ad wu thrice n
r»«rt>olBt*d In '•», 1"M «nd IMO. II. retlnu^l. Himllj. in low.
Parliament in Being — The House of Commons at Work 377
THE POST OFFICE, HOUSE OF COMMONS.
The office in the Ix>bby at which the bulk of the postal and telegraph business of members is transacted.
" that the question be now put," his proposal being at once put to the vote, unless it
appears to the Chair that to do so would be an abuse of the rules of the House or an
infringement of the rights of the minority. Provision is made by the rule for following up
and deciding any further proceedings dependent upon the particular question carried by closure,
even though the hour of adjournment has arrived, but in order to carry the closure, upon a
division taking place not less than one hundred members must have voted in the majority
in support of the motion. The rule may be put in force when either the Speaker, Chairman
of Ways and Means, or Deputy Chairman is presiding.
The rules and orders of the House governing the general transaction of business, order of
debate, conduct of members, etc., have been settled, some by standing orders agreed to at an
ancient period, some by tradition, while others are of comparatively recent date, and have been
adopted to meet the requirements of the assembly when called upon at times of unforeseen
difficulties which the existing orders were unable to deal with. P'ramed for the well-being
and general convenience of the whole body of members, certain of the rules are in practice
worked with an elasticity suitable to the wishes of the various sections of the House.
A member is in duty bound to attend the service of the House unless leave of absence
has been obtained on account of illness or other sufficient cause, the notice of motion granting
him leave stating the reason and period of absence required, during which time he is exempted
from serving upon any Committee to which he may have been appointed. Ibis rule is not
now so frequently resorted to as formerly, the system of pairing taking the place of the
time-honoured custom of asking leave. By pairing, a member makes an arrangement with
another of the opposite party, both agreeing to absent themselves for the time required, and
their votes in divisions for party purposes are thereby neutralised. For the convenience of
members, a book is placed near the entrance to the House showing the pairs arranged.
48
378
Parliament Past and Present
THE DEPUTY SPEAKER'S OFFICE.
A characteristic specimen of the private apartments allotted to high Parliamentary officials,
Members entering or leaving the House uncover, and, passing to their seats, bow to the
S]«-;iker or occupant of the Chair, and it is a breach of order to pass between the Chair and
a member speaking from the lower benches, or between the Chair and the mace when the
latter has been taken off the table by the Sergeant-at-Arms.
In a debate a Minister or ex-Minister rising is called upon to speak ; but two or more
unofficial members rising together, the Speaker calls upon the member who is first observed
by him, or who, in popular phraseology, "catches his eye." The House can, however, determine
which member shall first be heard should the Speaker's call be questioned. By courtesy, a
new member who has not spoken in the Parliament is generally called upon in preference
to others rising at the same time. A member should address himself to the Chair, and he
may not read his speech, though notes for reference are permitted. He may only speak once
upon the same question, though under certain conditions he may offer an explanation to
remove any misunderstanding of any part of his speech. The mover of a substantive motion
is allowed to reply to the arguments against it; and a member who has moved an order of
the day, such as the second reading of a bill, etc., by merely raising his hat without ri>in.^.
reserves his speech for a later period of the debate. It is contrary to order to use the name
of his Majesty for the purpose of influencing the House in its deliberations, or to refer to a
member by name, the practice in the latter case being to use the words "the right honourable
gentleman," or "the honourable member for ," stating the constituency represented.
Upon the termination of a debate the Speaker— or if the House is in Committee, the
Chairman — rises in his place and, putting the question to be decided, adds, "As many as are of
that opinion will say 'Aye,' the contrary 'No,'" and declares in his opinion by the number
Parliament in Being — The House of Commons at Work 379
of voices whether the " Ayes " or " Noes " have it. His decision being challenged, he directs
strangers to withdraw and the House proceeds to a division. A two-minute sand-glass upon
the table is turned by the Clerk, and notice is given by electric bells, and by the stentorian
shouts of "Division" by the police, to members in the various parts of the building that a
vote is about to be taken. After the lapse of the two minutes' grace allowed, the doors of
the House are locked and the Speaker again puts the question. His decision still being
challenged, he directs the " Ayes " to go to the right lobby and the " Noes " to the left, and
appoints two tellers for each side. The tellers are members, and, in the case of party
divisions, are usuallv the Whips. One of these functionaries from each party take their stand
together at the exit doors of the lobbies, and in that position they count the number of
members passing through. Clerks stationed at desks record their names for subsequent
publication in a list which is printed and circulated with the votes and proceedings. At the
conclusion of a division the tellers walk up to the table and report the numbers, the Speaker
announcing the result to the House. In case the numbers are equal, the Speaker has to give
a casting vote, the practice being adopted in this event of voting in such a manner that a
further opportunity may be afforded the House of deciding the question, and the reasons, if
given by the Speaker, are entered in the journals. All members present in the House when the
question is put from the Chair are required to vote, but any member having a direct pecuniary
interest in a question which is about to be decided is not entitled to take part in the division,
and should he do so his vote is liable to be disallowed. A provision is in force by which the
Speaker or Chairman, if in his opinion a division is frivolously or vexatiously claimed, may
take the vote by calling upon both sides successively to rise in their places ; and he may
declare the determination of the House with-
out a division, the names of the minority
being taken down by the Clerk in the House
and printed with the list of divisions.
Tolerant as the House shows itself to
any of its members who unintentionally
commit a breach of order, it will quickly
resent disorderly conduct and deliberate
disregard of the authority of the Chair.
In an assembly of divided opinion Parlia-
mentary politics will sometimes drift into
personal feeling, accompanied by scenes of
turbulence and excitement. The present
House of Commons has means at its
command for the maintenance of order in
debate and for checking disorderly con-
duct. Irrelevance or tedious repetition
persisted in may lead to the member so
offending being ordered to discontinue his
speech; gross disorder, to his being ordered
to immediately withdraw from the House
for the remainder of the sitting; and the
serious offence of disregarding the authority
of the Chair, wilfully and persistently ob-
structing the business of the House, will
bring upon him the danger of being
"named" by the Speaker with the penalty
of being suspended from the service of
the House.1
1 A revision of the rules of procedure was under consideration while this chapter was in the press
From a drawing liy Sir Frank Locktcood, Q.C.
One of the many clever caricatures produced by the lamented Queen's
Counsel during the period he sat in the House.
CHAPTER XXIX.
CALLED TO THE ItAR— PARLIAMENTARY PRIVILEGE.
TllK exercise of tlio punitive jiowers of the House of Commons supplies one of the most interesting
chapters in the history of Parliament. Though essentially a deliberative body, the ]H>]uilar ehamlier
has rejwsed in it in certain circumstances a judicial authority independent of the Courts <>t Law.
and even at times in sujiersession of them. The House can order an offender against it* code
to durance vile without trial other than that which it decrees, and as long as Parliament is in
session the prisoner cannot secure his freedom except by the will of the assembly. Privilege
i« the bed-rock of this far-reaching ]>ower. Contempt of the High Court of Parliament, like
the ordinary contempt of a judicial tribunal, brings into play forces outside and beyond the
ordinary machinery of the law. As there is no appeal from the decree of the insulted judge
on the Uench who summarily commits to prison a violator of the decencies of his court, sn
there is none to call in question the penal measures taken by the House of Commons for
the vindication of its offended
majesty.
What exactly const it i.
Parliamentary privilege it would
be difficult to say. For centuries
controversy has raged over the
question without a definite under-
standing being reached as to the
limits to which the strong arm
of the House may extend in
cases where it considers that
offence has been given. As we
shall show, at different ]>eriods
a singularly wide range has heen
given to this legislative version
of the doctrine of Icse ';//«
The House has elected to be its
own interpreter of its prerogat ives.
and naturally in such circum-
stances they have varied with
the changing conditions ami
sentiments of the times. Seldcn,
the great Parliamentarian of the
Civil War period, once said :
" Parliament men are as great
princes as any in the world.
What soever they please is privilege
of Parliament; whatsoever they
dislike is breach of pmile^e."
That shrewd description aptly
and j.trlot. who took unch • prominent putt in the itrnggla .. .....
ii War. described the position in Ins day,
380
Called to the Bar — Parliamentary Privilege
TIIK SPEAKER REPRIMANDING AN OFFENDER AT THE BAR OF THE HOUSE OP COMMONS.
The chamber shown in the view is the temporary structure erected after the fire which destroyed the old Houses of Parliament.
and it still to a certain extent applies. In these broad outlines the rights and powers of the
House are understood ; but lie would be a clever constitutionalist who could say absolutely
where they begin and where they end. Less of doubt surrounds the origin of Parliamentary
privilege. It is unquestionably, as history clearly shows, a creation of the great battle for
freedom fought in the earlier centuries of Parliamentary government. The right of liberty
of speech persistently demanded and finally grudgingly conceded carried with it the power to
protect the House collectively from the violation of its privacy, and the member individually from
the consequences of words uttered in the chamber. Naturally flowing from such power was the
authority to punish whatever tended to restrict the free discharge by members of their duties,
whether it were in the nature of physical compulsion, or in the indirect form of written libels.
The earliest cases of breach of privilege recorded concern almost exclusively the position
of members as it was affected by judicial processes. From the very infancy almost of
Parliamentary government the legislator has been exempt from arrest for debt. In the reign
of Edward I. we find the Templars, " who had certain tenants in the Parliament House who
were behind with their rents," humbly petitioning the King to allow them "to distrain either
their bodies or their goods for the same," and receiving in reply an emphatic refusal on the
ground of the privileged position of the debtors. Less consideration was shown to a member
of ancient times, Fearne by name, who was committed to the Marshalsea for the vulgar offence
of picking pockets, and was allowed to languish in that unsavoury retreat without the House
raising a finger to protect him. But it seems to have been recognised from the very outset,
and the principle obtains to this day, that privilege did not protect a member charged with
offences against the criminal law. Sufficient was done by the authorities when, on the convic-
tion of a legislator for such offences, they notified the Speaker of the fact, in order to allow
him to understand that the detention was unavoidable. Such protection as was given in
382
JENKJN
I . egi/laUv<
. •
Parliament Past and Present
the first instance even in civil cases was
conferred by tin- common law, and not by the
action of the llmise itself. It is, in fact, not
until the reign of Henry VIII. that we are
brought into contact with the working of the
Parliamentary machinery for the vindication
of privilege. The "leading case" in this
connection is that of Ferrers, a burgess of
the King, who in the thirty-fourth year of
Henry VIII. was arrested for debt ami
cast into the Counter Prison in the Citv
of London. The Sergeant -at -Anns. who \\a-
promptly sent by the House to demand
his release, was ill-treated, and his mace
broken. Indignant at the insult offered
their authority, the Commons committed the
Sheriffs and the Clerk of the Counter to the
Little Ease at the Tower. The King upheld
them in this step. Addressing the Chancellor
and the Speaker, he insisted that the member
should have his privilege. "For," said he, "I
I'OWER understand that you, not only for yourselves.
Povvcr^ * but also for your necessary servants. e\en to
your cooks and housekeepers, enjoy the privilege
utrtaiiies n.':- iii(/Hatcl-fcc4: insomuch as my Lord Chancellor hath informed
Lawcs'i/v/r rzjcua ffamffic Snare, us that he being Speaker of the Parliament,
•v<r Crownb must Anow jnjAucc, the cook of the Temple was arrested in
itle, ,tr,rn,v*ltj«nj«,. J Ecrkonhe*^ ix)1,don) and as he served the Speaker in
DAVID JKNKIXS, office during the Parliament, was taken out
A Wclih judge who imrroirlj neaped being sentenced to death »t the of execution by the privilege of Parliament."
Influence so powerful could not fail to bring
the civic functionaries to reason. After a brief enjoyment of the discomforts of "the Little Ka-e."
they made their submission. Hut the precise legal position of a gaoler holding a member
imprisoned for debt was still left in doubt. In March, 1603, Sir Thomas Shirley having been
committed to the Fleet, and a complaint having been made to the House of the fact, a debate
was held as to the l*>st means to adopt to secure his release. It was at first decided to M-H.|
six members with the Sergeant and his mace to forcibly remove the prisoner. But the House
thought better of this curious scheme, and finally agreed to try the effect of "the Little
Ease" upon the recalcitrant gaoler. Their decision was a wise one, for one night's incarceration
in the famous dungeon convinced the gaoler that he had better submit. He caused to be
intimated to the House that he was prepared to deliver the prisoner up if he was absolved
from the legal consequences. This, however, did not satisfy members. They demanded un-
conditional surrender. In the sequel they carried their point, and Mr. Gaoler was not in his
turn released until he had on his knees at the Bar made humble confession of his fault and
agreed to pay the fees incurred by his action.
From the speech of Henry VIII. quoted above, it is to be gathered that the privilege
of a member was held to extend to his servants. This, in fact, was very much the case.
The journals are strewn with records of complaints of interference with the liberty of
individuals, many of whom were in the most nominal sense of the word servants. As far
back as 1601 we find a Mr. William Cooke, a member, making a serious claim to the
intervention of the House because his tailor had been seized for debt and cast into the Fleet
Prison. Townsend, in his "Proceedings of Parliament," relates the upshot of the affair: "The
" <lrairu>ij i,i> f.lmrtm It. Ward.
THE SERGEANT-AT-AUMS OF THE HOUSE OP COMMONS ILL-TREATED IN THE CITY.
An incident arising out of the arrest of a member of Parliament by the City authorities in the reign of Henry VI 1 1.
383
384
Parliament Past and Present
Leading from the Lobby to the great Central Hall. Stranger* in the galleries are made to wait here during diridon*.
]>erson that arrested .Mr. Cooke's man was brought in, who, after a sharp speech delivered by
.Mr. Sjieaker. showing that lie had committed a heinous offence to arrest any member of the
House or his sirvant. knowing that both their persons, their servants' goods, and everything
they had were privileged during this great Council. ' How durst you presume to do it?' To
which the poor man answered upon his knees, 'That he knew not that his master was of the
House. I do acknowledge that 1 have offended, and humbly crave pardon, and I protest 11)11111
my sdvation I would not have done it had I known his master had been privileged.' " After
this handsome amend the House could only extend a gracious pardon to the offender, though
he had to discharge the fees before he was given his liberty.
Encouraged by the success which attended the enforcement of the principle in this and
like cases, members of both Houses strained their prerogatives to a scandalous extent.
According to Clarendon, protections were given a<l Uliilmn. and they were "commonly sold by
their servants to bankrupt citi/ens. and to such who were able, but refused, to pay their just debts."
So great were the demands made under the system that the citi/cns of lx>ndon, when pressed for
a loan by both Houses of Parliament in November, 1G41, urged the existence of the custom as
a reason for non-compliance with the demand. The most degrading feature of the practice was
that members sold their protections for hard cash. As little as 16s. or 17s. was received by
one member, a certain .Mr. Benson, in the seventeenth century, for extending Parliamentary
rights to fraudulent debtors. In his ease the House was shamed into activity, and he \\a<.
for his conduct, declared by a vote of the House to be "unworthy and unfit to be a member."
and exjielled accordingly. A somewhat similar incident took place later, when Sir John
Pretiman, who sat for Keiee-ter, \\as suspended from sitting in the House for taking under
his wing "a most notorious fellow," whom he falsely represented to be a menial servant in his
Called to the Bar — Parliamentary Privilege
385
employ, but was actually only a commonplace rogue, who sought to evade his liabilities.
Marvell, in his letters to his constituents, describes the curious sequel to the decree of the
House : " The Sergeant was sent into the Speaker's chamber with his mace to bring him
(Pretiman) to receive the sentence upon his knees at the Bar. Hereupon the House being
disappointed (for in the meanwhile he was escaped by the back door) ordered that door to be
nailed up for the future, have revived their votes of 1663 against all paper protections, against
protections to any but menial servants ; and to-day, after a long debate for expelling him,
the House have for some good reason given him till the second Tuesday after our next
meeting to appear." Pretiman managed to evade the penalty passed upon him. But, stirred
to energy by the disclosures in his case, the Speaker in 1667 issued a mandate to call in all
protections, with the result that it was found that as many as eight hundred persons were in
the enjoyment of immunity from arrest in London and Middlesex alone. In consequence of the
ferment caused by the action of the House, a startling case of oppression, nurtured under
the system, was brought to light through the medium of a petition presented to the House
by a Mrs. Cottington. This lady averred that Colonel Wanklyn, a member, gave protection to
her husband, who was an independent gentleman with an income of £2,000 a year, to screen
him from the consequences of an action that was pending in reference to the validity of their
marriage. Even the morality of that lax age was shocked at this infamous perversion of the
rights of privilege. When Colonel Wanklyn had been called upon to explain, and practically
admitted his guilt, Mr. Hale, a county member, rose and said with a terseness which showed his
horror and contempt : 4i This man is not fit to keep us company, and I humbly move that he
may be turned out of the House." The proposal found favour with the members, who
unanimously agreed to the motion for expulsion. There was a discussion as to whether the erring
legislator should receive his sentence on his knees like any common Parliamentary malefactor ;
but he was spared this humiliation. Nevertheless, he was so sensible of the degradation of his
position, that when he had been told the de- » ^
•cision of the House he broke down completely,
and, weeping, was led away by his friends.
Drastic as the action taken in these
cases was, it was not entirely effectual. For
many years afterwards the abuses of the
rights of privilege continued to the scandal
of good citizens, who found themselves
deprived of their just dues through the
readiness with which unscrupulous members
lent their authority. It was not, in fact,
until the eighteenth century was entered
upon that the custom of extending pro-
tection to members' servants was finally
abandoned. Even after that the right of
privilege was occasionally abused.
There was a very gross case brought to
light in 1807, when a member named Mills
was discharged from custody on the strength
of his privilege, although he had notoriously
purchased his seat in order to escape pay-
ment of his debts, which amounted to a
very large sum. An equally flagrant misuse
Of the Parliamentary position Was made about pmn an etching by Sim-born, ba pe^nUiion of Me»>r>. Ugert&Kogen.
the same time in the case of a Mr. Bourke, SAMUEL PEPYS,
whose friends Secured his return for a pocket The famous aiarigt, who made a memorable appearance at the Bar of the
borough in order to free him from the House of Common..
49
386
Parliament Past and Present
King's Bench, where he was confined for debt. This individual actually never sat in the
House. Immediately the prison doors \UMV opened to him by the jwtent influence of privilege,
he t«x>k his de]utrture to tin' Continent, from whence he never returned.
Siinultancou-.lv with tin- misuse of tin- ]>o\vcrs of Parliamentary privilege for sordid reasons,
was a straining of the prerogatives on grounds more or less fantastic and trivial. A member's
servant'- d.iak was retained at a tavern. Forthwith a solemn complaint \\;i- made to the
House on grounds of privilege, and the unfortunate innkeeper was committed to prison.
In another case a man employed by u member was confined for failing to contribute to the
maintenance of an illegitimate child. \Vitli minute care the House investigated the matter,
and finally rescued the peccant parent from his awkward jtosition. Again, a tremendous stir
\va» caused in Parliament in 1(>!»8 over the felling of a tree situate ujion the estate of Sir
Ralph Dutton, a incml>cr. by a neighliour. .Mr. (ircville. The momentous matter was in due
form referred to a Committee of Privileges, who, alter an exhaustive investigation, came to the
conclusion ''That .Mr. (ircville was not guilty of a breach of privilege in aiding and abetting
the cutting down the tree called Forden Klin." But the most extraordinary case of all was
one which formed the subject of debate at the close of 1661. It concerned the custody of a
corpse, of all things. Sir Reginald Palgrave relates the particulars as follows, in his interesting
little work, "The House of Commons": "A member, as executor to a will, was arranging the
funeral of his dead friend. A quarrel arose, and
the family took possession of the corpse, that
they, and not the executor, might manage
the burial. So he put his privileges in force,
and, as is duly recorded in the journal of
December 12th, 1661, the House of Commons
sent their Sergeant and his messengers 'to make
diligent search for the said corpse,' to the end
that the said member of Parliament 'might
decently inter the same.' "
Another singular case was that of John
Aylofle, who in 1638 was called to account for
printing "The Appeal" and "The Votes of
Parliament*" and "for having laid, in a libellous
manner, a wooden shoe in the Speaker's chair."
How heinous this individual's offences were
considered is to be gathered from the fact that
in 1640 he is found1 petitioning the King for
pardon on the ground that he had been two
years in exile. Also worth recalling is an incident
related by Kdward Harlcy in a letter to his
fat her dated February 5th, 1697-8. ".Mr. Powil's
second son," says the writer, "was this day
reprimanded upon his knees for saying some
things that reflected upon the Lords of tin-
Treasury which he could not make out. It put
some in mind of the story of the jester that was
whipt in (Jueen Klixalielh's time for calling the
l>3rd Nottingham ' fool.' "
This question of Parliamentary privilege had
its tragic as well as its amusing side. There
is. for instance, the case of David Jenkins, a
Welsh judge, who in the period immediately
1 Historical Manuscripts, Appendix, 5th Report, p. 235.
TITCS OATKS.
The informer and perjurer, "funding In the pillory for hii crime*.
Called to the Bar — Parliamentary Privilege 387
preceding the Civil War was actually con-
demned to death by a vote of the House of
Commons for contempt of the High Court
of Parliament. Jenkins, who was a staunch
adherent of the Eoyalist cause, was brought
to the Bar to answer for his judicial conduct
in sentencing to death persons who had
taken up arms against the King in Wales.
In accordance with the usual practice the
old fellow was required to kneel. His reply
to the summons was a startling one : " Since
you, Mr. Speaker, and this House, have
renounced all your duty and allegiance to
your sovereign and natural liege lord the
King, and are become a den of thieves,
should I bow myself in this House of
Kimmon, the Lord would not pardon me in
this thing/' The House was in an uproar
at once, and a motion was made and carried
that Jenkins and Sir Francis Butler, who
was associated with him at the Bar, should
be condemned to death for high treason.
Before steps could be taken to give effect
to the motion, Henry Marten, an influential
member of the Parliamentary party, put in
a plea for reconsideration of the hasty action.
" Mr. Speaker," said he, " every one must believe that this old gentleman here is fully
possessed in his head that he is pro aris et focis mori, that he should die a martyr for this
cause, for otherwise he never would have provoked the House by such biting expressions ;
whereby it is apparent if you execute him, you do what he hopes for and desires, and whose
execution might have a great influence upon the people, since not condemned by a jury.
Wherefore my motion is that this House should suspend the day of execution, and in the
meantime force him to live in spight of his teeth." This sensible appeal had its effect.
Jenkins and his companion were committed to Newgate on the understanding that the sentence
should be suspended. After a period of confinement, during which the old judge occupied himself
in making elaborate preparations for his appearance upon the scaffold, they were set at liberty.
The degradation of kneeling at the Bar, from which the soul of the sturdy Jenkins
revolted, was for centuries an inevitable accompaniment of an appearance before the House
in the character of culprit. It was finally abandoned in 1750, as the result of the obstinate
stand made by a Mr. Murray, who had incurred the displeasure of the House by his conduct
in an election for the City of Westminster then just concluded. Mr. Murray was bracketed
with a Mr. Crowle in the proceedings. The latter gentleman, who was accused of wilfully
and unjustly protracting the scrutiny, and of using " disrespectful words in contempt of the
authority of this House," ate his humble pie without demur. Murray was of sterner metal.
When, after protracted proceedings, he was adjudged guilty of " dangerous and seditious practices
in violation and contempt of the authority and privileges of this House and of the freedom
of elections," he was ordered to kneel in the customary way to receive sentence, he flatly
declined to comply. "Your obeisances, sir," shouted the Speaker. But still the culprit
declined, and he continued in this mood in spite of all the commands made to him. The
House was horror-struck at this flagrant defiance. As soon as it recovered its equanimity
sufficiently it passed a resolution declaring that Murray, " having in a most insolent, audacious
manner, at the Bar of this House, absolutely refused to be upon his knees as required
TITUS GATES.
A portrait of the perjurer attired in clerical garb.
388
Parliament Past and Present
by the raid resolution, is guilty of a high
nml most dangerou- <-»nti-iii|it of the authority
and privileges of this Iloti-e." Supplementing
this lofty condemnation were a series of
rcMilutions decreeing that .Murray should lu>
committed a close prisoner to Newgate, that
while there he should not be allowed the
use of jM-ii. ink. or paper, and that no
person should l>e jH-rniitted to have accos
to him without the leave of the House.
Finally, a Committee was ap]>ointed "to
con>ider and n'jKirt to the House what
methods may IK- proper to lie taken by the
House in relation to the >aiil contempt."
Four days after this bolt wa* delivered — on
February 8th, 1750- — it was reported to the
Mouse by the keeper of Xewgate that the
prixiner was ill am) desired that a physician
and an apothecary might be allowed to
iv-ort to him. The permission was granted,
and on April 2nd the physician appeared
at the Bar of the House to say that he
apprehended Mr. Murray to have the gaol
di>temper coming upon him, and that he
left him so extremely ill, that if he were
not immediately removed from his present
place of confinement, there would be no
]M>ssibility of saving him. Even this alarming report did not secure the unfortunate prisoner's
release. The House merely gave orders for his transfer from Newgate to the custody
of the Sergeant-at-Arms, specifying that the conditions of his detention should continue
as heretofore. Mr. Murray was not at all grateful for this half-hearted concession. When
the Deputy Sergeant-at-Arms went to him to arrange for his removal, he declined to leave,
and commented strongly on the action of his friends, who had appealed to the House without
his knowledge. As a consequence of his attitude the order for removal was revoked, and the
prisoner was allowed to remain in Newgate until the end of the session, wlien the power of
the House over him lapsed. In the next session the orders with reference to the prisoner
were revived, and a fresh decree for his committal was made. Kut when the Deputy Sergeant
went to make the arrest, it was found that the bird had flown. The implacable Commons
p;is-eil a resolution for an address to the King to issue a proclamation for the apprehension
of Murray, with the promise of a reward for the same. This final ebullition was, however,
a mere flash in the pan. Murray went scot free, and never afterwards was the Parliamentary
kow toiv enforced.
Kit her in the character of culprits or suppliants many well-known historical figures have been
seen at the liar of the House. Pride stood there for a space to answer for his delinquencies
in the Cromwellian period; and on March 5th, 1(567-8, Pepys made a memorable appearance
there to defend himself and his brother officials of the Navy Office from charges brought against
them in connection with the humiliating raid of the Dutch fleet under De Ruyter up the
Medway in the previous year. On the whole, perhaps, this was the most picturesque incident
in the life of the diarist, as it is certainly not the least attractive chapter in the annals of the
House of Commons' disciplinary proceedings. In his diary Pepys gives ti*. a> might lie expected,
a most minute account of the whole business. First we have a picture of him on March 4th
preparing for the ordeal, anxious and sleepless and sick at heart. On the great morning we
'-
COLONEL WAKDLE,
A prominent military member of the earl; jiart of the nineteenth
century. He moved the resolution condemnatory of the Duke of York
in the celebrated debate of February 1st, 1800.
Called to the Bar — Parliamentary Privilege
389
find him at the "Dog" at Westminster, fortifying himself with a half-pint of mulled sack, and
thence proceeding to Westminster Hall, where, dropping in at another house of call, he quaffed
"a dram of brandy." This preliminary preparation appears to have been beneficial, for Pepys
tells us that with the warmth of the drink " I did find myself in better order as to courage
truly."
Proceeding to the Lobby, Pepys and his party awaited the summons of the House. It
came between eleven and twelve o'clock. Marching in with the mace before them, they took
their stand at the Bar, facing '• a mighty full House." Looking around, the diarist noted the
air of eager expectancy that prevailed. He also with misgiving perceived that there was a strong
current of prejudice against him and his brother officials. But he put a bold face on things.
Here is his account of what passed : " After the Speaker had told us the dissatisfaction of the
House, and read the report of the Committee, I began our defence most acceptably and
smoothly, and continued at it without any hesitation or loose, but with full scope and all
my reason free about me as if it had been at iny own table, from that time till past three
in the afternoon ; and so ended without any interruption from the Speaker ; but we withdrew.
And then all my fellow officers and all the world that was within hearing did congratulate me
and cry up my speech as the best thing they ever heard. . . . We were called in again
by and by to answer only one question, touching our paying tickets to ticket-mongers ; and
so out ; and we were in hopes to have had a vote this day in our favour, and so the generality
of the House was. But my speech being so long many had gone out to dinner and come
in again half drunk ; and then there was two or three that are professed enemies to us and
every one else. ... I say these did rise up and speak against the coming to a vote now. . . .
However, it is plain we have got great ground, and everybody says I have got the most honour
that any could have had opportunity of getting; and so with our hearts all overjoyed at this,
we all to dinner at Lord Brouncker's."
The next day Pepys tasted to the full the sweets of his success : " Up betimes and with
Sir D. Grawden to Sir W. Coventry's chamber, where the first words he said to me were : ' Good
from a contemporary caricatvrt.
MRS. CLARKE AT THE BAR OF THE HOUSE OP COMMONS.
A drawing in which the artist baa freely treated a •enaational episode which occurred in the House of Commons on February 1st, 1809.
390
Parliament Past and Present
morrow, Mr. Pepys, that must be
SjH'akcr of the Parliament House,'
and did protest that I had got
honour for ever in Parliament."
Later the same day Pepys, walk-
ing in St. .lame-'s Park, met the
King, who congratulated him on
Ins success. Subsequently, on
looking in at Westminster Hall,
lie met -.Mr. (i. Montagu, who
came to me and kissed me and
told me that he had often here-
tofore kissed my hands, but now
he would kiss my li]>s, protesting
that I was another Cicero, and
said that the world said the
same of me." In short, Pepys
awoke that March morning in
1667 and found himself famous.
His triumph induced him to
seriously think of seeking
Parliamentary honours, and in
1669 he actually presented him-
self as a candidate for the re-
presentation of Aid borough, in
Suffolk, but without success. His
entrance into Parliament was
delayed until 1673, when he was
elected for Castle Kising, in
Norfolk. By that time the fame
of his oratorical achievement had
evaporated, and he was able to accomplish little beyond furnishing a subject for the religious
bigotry of the time, his house being searched on suspicion that he had a crucifix and other
Popish emblems concealed there.
In the same year that Pepys made his interesting dtibut in the House of Commons that
astounding imjwstor, Titus Gates, faced the Commons with a brazen-faced impudence thoroughly
characteristic of the man. The prince of perjurers was summoned before the House on October 21st,
1678, to make good his charges against "the Popish recusants." His levity under examination was
such that the Speaker several times rebuked him, and he was only silenced by a stern intimation
that he came there not to expostulate, but to obey the orders of the House. Unfortunately his
words were accorded a greater weight than from this episode might have been anticipated.
Directly arising out of his examination was the well-known resolution of October 31st, 1678,
affirming " that there is and hath been a damnable and hellish plot contrived and carried on
by Popish recusants for assassinating and murdering the King, for subverting the Government,
and rooting out and destroying the Protestant religion." Oates, emboldened by the success
of his ]»erjury, afterwards put in a bill for i.678 12s. Gd. for expenses incurred "in bringing
the truth to light." Such was his influence at the time, that the charges were paid without a
murmur, despite the fact that he was already in receipt of a weekly salary. It is not necessary
to follow his infamous career further, for Parliament was not again concerned with his affairs
— at least directly.
As is to be gathered from this incident, the "call to the Bar" was made for purposes of
inquiry as well as for disciplinary reasons. Nowadays the functions exercised in Oates's case
MHS. CLAUKK,
The mirtmn of the Duke of York, who KM ranmionei! to the Bar of the Home of
Cotuluoiu in 1809 in connection with the cnrnijit dale of couimiasiona in the arniy.
Called to the Bar — Parliamentary Privilege
391
are delegated to Committees, who make
a report to the House, but before the
practice fell into desuetude, the House
concerned itself directly with the in-
vestigation of not a few matters which
in their day occupied a large space in
the public mind. In this connection
special reference may be made to the
well-known case of Mrs. Clarke, the
mistress of the Duke of York, who
was required to give evidence at the
Bar of the House in regard to the
charges brought against the Duke in
connection with the corrupt sale of
commissions in the army, the disclosures
regarding which had half-scandalised,
half-amused, the country in the early
nineteenth-century period in which the
transactions occurred. Mrs. Clarke had
shown by the audacity of her dealings
that she was a woman not easily to
be intimidated, and her conduct in
St. Stephen's Chapel was quite in
keeping with the reputation she had
made for herself. Summoned before
the House, she appeared at the Bar
on February 1st, 1809, calm and self-
possessed, and armed at all points for
the ordeal she was to undergo. Her
great charms were set off by an exquisite
toilette. A lovely Thais, as one writer puts it, she dazzled the gravest. The examination
which was calculated to lead to her discomfiture resulted in a personal triumph. By her ready
wit she turned the tables on her accusers, answering all questions in such a way as to cause
annoyance. The Duke of York, who had aroused her ire by withdrawing his protection in
consequence of the exposures, suffered especially at her hands. Whatever could be stated
to his detriment was readily detailed. She showed a malicious joy in making things uncom-
fortable all round. Wilberforce in his diary gives an interesting sketch of the episode as it
presented itself to his somewhat austere mind. "This melancholy business," he writes, "will
do irreparable mischief to public morals by accustoming the public to hear without emotion
shameless violations of decency. The House examined Mrs. Clarke for two hours, cross-examin-
ing her in the Old Bailey way. She, elegantly dressed, consummately impudent, and very
clever, got clearly the better of the tussle." At the close of the long examination a motion
was proposed by Colonel Wardle declaring that the Duke of York had been guilty of corrupt
practices and connivance of such practices, and praying that he be dismissed from the command
of the army. This drastic resolution found some favour, but the House as a whole was not
disposed to accept so extreme a view of the transactions. It finally agreed to an amendment
brought forward by Mr. Perceval absolving the Duke from personal corruption and from
criminal connivance in the malpractices brought to light. The scandal was too gross for this
exculpatory declaration to have full weight. With a discretion which he had not always
shown, the Duke voluntarily resigned his command almost immediately. Mrs. Clarke retired
into an unhonoured though affluent obscurity with a handsome provision for life.
Though the call to the Bar of the House has in the majority of cases reflected little
THE BIGHT HON. SPENCKB PERCEVAL,
The Minister who moved the resolution exculpating the Duke of York from the
charpe of personal corruption.
392
Parliament Past and Present
credit ujK>n the person summoned, it has occasionally been made to assume tin- character of
a di-tiinjiii-hi-d honour. In 1089 Schoml>erg attended at tin- llmi-.- to return thanks for tin*
grant of a hundred thousand ]xmndB which liad been made to him in recognition of his
services in Ireland. "A chair." says Maeaulay, '"was set for him within the Bar. He took
hi- seat there with the mace at his right hand, rose, and in a few graceful words returned
his thanks and took his leave. The Speaker replied that the Commons could never forget
the obligation under which they already lay to his Grace, that they saw him with pleasure
at the head of an English army, that they felt entire confidence in his /eal and ability, and
that at whatever distance he might be, he would always be in a peculiar manner an object of
their care." The precedent set on this interesting occasion, Macaulay notes, was followed with
the utmost minuteness a hundred and twenty-five years later on an occasion more interesting
still. " Exactly on the same spot on which in July, 1689, Schomberg had acknowledged the
liberality of the nation, a chair was set, in July, 1814, for a still more illustrious warrior who
came to return thanks for a still more splendid mark of public gratitude." The refeivncr. of
•course is to Wellington, who attended at the House of Commons to receive the thanks of a
grateful Senate, and to hear the announcement of the money vote made to him for his services
in the Peninsular campaign.
A few months after Mrs. Clarke made her sensational appearance at the Bar of the House
of Commons, an additional chapter of a not less exciting character was added to the records
of the House. On February 10th, 1810, a Mr. Gale Jones, the manager of a Covent Garden
debating society, issued a
BH pamphlet stating that the
action of a member of tin-
House in spying strangers,
and having the gallerie>
cleared during a debate. \va>
••an insidious and ill-timed
attack upon the liberties of
the Press, tending to aggra-
vate the discontent of the
people, and rendering their
representatives objects of
jealous suspicion." Gale
Jones was quickly brought
to the Bar, and, although
he humbly acknowledged his
fault, he was promptly com-
mitted to prison. Three
weeks afterwards Sir Francis
Burdett, member for West-
minster, proposed that the
culprit should be released ;
but an overwhelming majority
of the House decided again>t
the motion. Sir Francis
Burdett, irritated at his
defeat, shortly afterwards
commenced an attack UJKHI
the House of Commons by
publishing a letter in Cobbelt'a
SIB FRANCIS I'.l IM.I.I I ... i>
____» . __ ._,,,. . , „ Weekly Political Re<iwler
The well-known number for Weitmliuter, whan defiance of the HOUM of Commons gar* riM to
intent* pnpnUr excitement in i8io. denying the power of the
t r*»n i/ie I n i til Hi x in nit .\ n,,ii nut 1 "i i m 1 1 t Hint i \ in -^'i i ii"tmi > i.n .t it m • , t i\ . i .
T1IK KIC.IIT HON. WAKKKN MASTINC.S.
A IM puctralt «I the f rail luJUu Ailmlnutntur »l lh- »«'•••' ~' » *»• I ""'• ' '" '•" '•"• ""• «l<< "« ••!
Called to the Bar — Parliamentary Privilege
393
THE BAIt OF THE HOUSE Of COMMONS.
It is at this »i>ot that persons summoned to appear before the House of Commons are made to stand.
House to " imprison the people of England," and strongly insisting upon the importance of
preserving the liberty of the subject. His conduct was then complained of by a brother
memljer, the matter being brought before the Commons as a breach of privilege. Sir Francis
Burdett, thus challenged, declared that "he had no intention of violating the privileges of the
House of Commons, and not knowing that he had done so, he had only to say that he remained
of the opinion which he had . expressed in that publication.
Long and acrimonious debates took place, relieved at times by adjournments and
divisions. In the course of discussion a military officer, a member of the House, called
another "a brewer of bad porter," which caused a great commotion; but, as described by
Jx>rd Colchester,1 then Speaker Abbot, " I saw Whitbread instantly took the thing with
good-humour, and I refused to let anybody else speak till the uproar subsided. He then
rose and said: 'Mr. Speaker, I rise as a tradesman to complain of the gallant officer for
abusing the commodity which I sell,' etc., upon which the whole House burst into laughter
and approbation of the self-command and good-humour with which Whitbread put an end to
the fury of his friends." In the end, the House sitting until half-past seven in the morning.
it was decided to commit Sir Francis Burdett to the Tower, and, as Lord Colchester noted,
"the Sergeant with his deputy came home with me, and the warrants were written out and
signed by me before nine o'clock." In the meantime, Sir Francis having left the House of
Common!, the Sergeant-at-Anna an hour later repaired to Piccadilly, where Sir Francis Burdett
lived, only to find that the member was "not at home." Sir Francis, however, wrote to the
Speaker expressing his readiness to be there the following day at twelve o'clock. But the
House would brook no delay, and the Sergeant was instructed to arrest the member at once,
it having been provided that all the civil aid required could be obtained upon applying at
' Diary, vol. ii.
50
394
Parliament Past and Present
Ihe Secretary of State's office, where magistrates were in waiting. These authorities, however.
in view of the public excitement prevalent, decide! that it wa- not |M»>ihle to take tin- memlier
thnt night, as they had not force enough to deal with the mob in Piccadilly, and a-, moreover,
it would be necessary to arrange with the Lord .Mayor of J-ondon to convey tlie pri.-ohcr
through the City.
The next day the Speaker received a letter from Sir Kraix-is Hurdctt declaring tliat
having l>een elected by the voters of the City of Westminster to maintain the laws and
liberties of the land, "he would never In-tray his trust. The action of the House of Commons
was illegal, and he would only submit to superior foive." A ine-enger was sent with
the warrant to deliver it into the hand* of Sir Francis, and although he Micceeded in
placing it in the hand of the incinlwr, he was promptly turned out of the hou>e. Such was
the state of public feeling that Piccadilly was a centre of dangerous ferment; the (iuanls
had to lx- (idled out, the Hiot Act read, and the mob scattered. Sir Francis JJurdett now
wrote to the sheriffs of Middlesex, complaining that an attempt was being made to deprive
him of his lihertv, and asking protection from violence and oppiv-i.m. las lionie being then
beset by a military force. The sheriffs declining to be brought into the matter, events w.-re
allowed to take their course. Still the refractory member held the fort, and next day it is
recorded that the Life Guards advanced through the Park and Stable Yard to Piccadilly, and
that the Riot Act was again read.
Nor was the neighbourhood of the Houses of Parliament free from excitement. Ind 1.
so threatening was the state of affairs, that the Speaker ordered all the doors and pas-ages
of the House of Commons to be shut up, and also the grand passage from Westmin-t.-r
Hall to Old Palace Yard. Kiver fencibles were moored on the Thames opposite the
Sneaker's garden ; St. Mary's Volunteers were under arms in Westminster Hall, with
l«trols as far as Downing Street; George Street, Hridge Street, and Ahingdon Street were also
protected. At the House of Lords end of the Palace suddenly an alarm of fire was raised, a
lighted basket of coal being discovered within the wooden fence of Parliament Place, near the
housokee|>er's ajiartments. Kventually superior force was provided by the Government, and
thirty j>olice officers, protected by the military, forced an entrance into Sir Francis Burden's
house, down the area, through the hall, where a party of Foot Guards remained. The officers
passed into Sir Francis Kurdett's drawing-room, where he was discovered with his family. The
warrant of the Speaker was read by the Sergcant-at-Arms. and the member for Westmin>ter
was forcibly removed to the carriage in waiting for
him. This, with 11 powerful escort of Life Guards
and dragoons, was driven through the principal streets
to the City. ( hi arriving at Tower Hill, the carriage
was with difficulty forced through the asM-mbled
mob. At length, however, the palisade of the Tower
was readied, and Sir Francis, with the Sergeant-
at-Arms of the House of Commons, was received
and conducted to the Governor's private apartments.
The (iuanls, on returning from the Tower, were
severely pelted with stones, and they retaliated by
firing upon their assailants. Great public excite-
ment continued throughout I^ondon. The West-
Miin-ter electors called a meeting in Palace Yard:
but the gates were locked, and measures taken to
secure the House of Commons from the invasion.
Lord Cochrane and others persuaded the people to
disperse, his lordship promising to proent a petition
complaining of the member's imprisonment) the
corruption of the House- of Commons, and praying
i II MM. I- AlllloT, l.iillll CuLCir
Who 1'imiiletl Oft Sjn-iikcr over tho -t.,ui'% .I.-batfll wbich cv.l-
minatcd in Sir Fiancii Bnnlelt'a committal to tbo Tower.
Called to the Bar — Parliamentary Privilege 395
for reform of Parliament.
This petition was rejected
by the House on account
of its . being couched in
disrespectful language;
and in the meantime Sir
Francis Burdett caused an
action at law to be entered
against the Speaker for the
recovery of A'30,000, and
also one against the
Sergeant-at-Arms for
•.20. 000, on account of
illegal wan-ant and arrest.
At the prorogation of
Parliament the liberation
of the prisoner was the
occasion of a great demon-
stration by his friends.
Crowfls of his supporters
asM-mbled to receive him
on Tower Hill, only to be
disappointed, as the
member departed privately
by water. The assemblage,
not to be deprived of their
demonstration, escorted
the empty car provided to
the residence of the mem-
ber in Piccadilly, and so
terminated a most exciting
e-'isode.
In recent times the
history of this phase of
Parliamentary life has
furnished little that is of
more than transient in-
terest, excepting the Brad-
laugli episode, to which we shall have occasion to refer in another chapter. An arrest of a
member in the precincts of the House, the intimidation of a witness called before a Select
Committee, the libelling of members by profane editors and printers — these are a sample of
the matters which have engaged the serious, it may be said the solemn, notice of the House.
Such incidents create great stir at the time they occur, for the House notoriously is never so
genuinely interested as when it is engaged in threshing out some personal issue. But they
are mostly mere trifles on the surface of Parliamentary life, leaving behind them only the
faintest impression. The truth is that, though the disciplinary powers of the House are
nominally as great as ever they were, they have lost much of their effectiveness by being
shorn of the accessories which in old times gave them potency. Even the censure passed
from the Chair, the invariable accompaniment of a proved infraction of the Parliamentary
law, is not so awe-inspiring as it once was. It has sometimes been known to minister to a
passion for notoriety rather than to inspire a sense of humiliation. Parliament, in truth, does
not conspicuously shine when it dons the mantle of Justice.
From a di-airing by S. Paffct.
THE EDITOR AND PUBLISHER OF TIIK ''GLOBE" (MB. GEOKGE ELLIOT ARM-
STRONG AND MR. WILLIAM THOMAS MADGE) AT THE BAR OP THE HOUSE OP
COMMONS ON AUGUST 16TH, 1901.
CHAPTER XXX.
THE HOUSE AT l'l!.\ YKliS.
TllKKE has never been a time in the long history of Parliament when the work of the
legislature was divorced from the practice of religious rites. Tin- observances have varied in
degree as well as in character — they have occasionally been degraded by a-sm-iation with
jN.litiral ends or motives; but the sacred duty has ever been n-o)giii>ed in some form or
another. In the earliest legislative era the work of a Parliamentary session was preceded l>v
mass, usually in the Chapel of St. Stephen. Later, when the two Houses separated, the
custom was kept up, the practice in Tudor times being for the House of Lords to attend
service in the Abbey and for the Commons to resort to St. Margaret's Church. Occasionally,
it would seem from an incident recorded in 1426, the presence of legislators in a body at
church was taken advantage of by ecclesiastics to read them a lesson upon the errors of their
public ways. In that year the Archbishop of Canterbury, taking for his text •• Kender unto
C.tsar the things that are Ca-sar's, and to God the things that are God's," delivered an
impassioned harangue in favour of the repeal of the Statute of Pnemunirc. by which foreigners
ST. M.MHJAUKT'.S ciintm, WI:ST.MI.\>TI:K.
The wnlrrii front of the jori.h church of the UOUK of Common*.
396
The House at Prayers
397
were disabled from holding
any ecclesiastical dignity in
this country. For the salva-
tion of their souls and the
good of the kingdom the
listening legislators were im-
plored to give the Pope
satisfaction by withdrawing
the obnoxious enactment.
Such was the prelate's zeal
and earnestness, that it is
reported he shed tears copi-
ously. But they were idle
tears. With a full appreci-
ation of the value of the
law, Parliament elected to
keep it on the Statute Book,
where it remains to this day.
The Parliamentary
attendances at mass were
marked by much external
pomp and ceremony. Of one
celebration which ushered
in the Parliament of 1540
we have a particularly vivid
account preserved to us. A
State procession organised on
the most elaborate scale
passed through the streets,
the King being in the midst
in all the panoply of regal
state. In the train
marched all the great officers
of State, the Ixmls and Com-
mons, the dignitaries of the
law, and twenty abbots. The last-named were present by special command of the King,
and the fact of their presence is noteworthy, as it was their final appearance upon the
Parliamentary stage. Before the session thus ceremoniously entered upon closed, the legis-
lative bolt had fallen which destroyed the abbeys and monasteries. On the approach of
the Reformation the character of the sessional service changed. There was, however, a brief
return to old ways in the reign of Mary, whose excessive zeal for the lloman Catholic
ritual prompted her to organise, the day before the dissolution of the Parliament of 1554, a
solemn " procession of both Houses to St. Paul's to give thanks to God for their conversion to
the Catholic Church."
Witli Elizabeth's accession we enter upon a new phase of the subject. For the first time
we read in the journals of devotions in the Legislative Chamber itself. We find mention of
the Litany being said by the Clerk kneeling, and answered by the whole House on their knees.
In 1571 Mr. Christopher Wray, the Speaker, proposed that the Litany should be said every
day. and also a prayer by Mr. Speaker, "such as he should think fittest for the time." The
Litany was most probably that of the second established Prayer Book, being the first book of
Queen Eli/alx-th, or the first book of Edward VI., which (with changes) was subsequently
adopted, and which remained in use until it was suppressed at the time of the Great Eebellion.
PORCH OP ST. MARGARET'S CHURCH, WESTMINSTER,
Erected in memory of Robert Lowe, Viscount Sherbrooke, by hia widow.
398
Parliament Past and Present
In I.'>80, before the election of
.Mr. Speaker I'opham, the Hou-e agreed
to a motion for prayer, "that i! might
plea-e (io.l, lioth in that and in the
res-idue of tin- proceedings of this H<m-i-
to direct tin-in with Hi- link Spirit,''
and a form of prayer was offered, which
was read by tin- Clerk. In the saim- year
Mr. S|>eaker coming to tin- Hou-e after
ele\eii o'clock, is stated to have read
the usual prayer, omitting the Litany
for the 1-hortncr.s ,,f time. The form of
prayer used in Parliament only during
Elizabeth's reign was as follows: —
"() Merciful <iod and Father, for-
asmuch as no couiiM-l can Maud, nor any
can prosper, but Mich as are humbly
gathered in thy Name, to feel the -wH
ta>te of thy Holy Spirit, we gladly
acknowledge that by thy favour Mandcth
the peaceable protection of our (Jueen
and Realm, and likewise this favourable
liberty granted unto us at this time to
make our meeting together, which thy
bountiful goodness we most thankfully
acknowledge, do withal earnestly pray
thy divine Majesty so to incline our
hearts, as our counsel may be subject in
true obedience to thy Holy Word and Will. And sith it hath pleased thee, to govern this
Realm by ordinary assembling the three estates of the same: our humble prayer is, that
thou wilt graft in us good minds to conceive, free liberty to speak, and on all sides a ready
and quiet consent to such wholesome Laws and Statutes, as may declare us to be thy people.
and this Realm to be prosperously ruled by thy good guiding and defence; so that we and
our i>osterity may with cheerful hearts wait for thy appearance in judgment, that art only
able to present us faultless before God our heavenly Father: to whom with thee and our
Saviour Christ, and the Holy Spirit, be all glory both now and ever. Amen."
Although this prayer appears to be the recogni.-ed one, upon occasions a special appeal to
the Almighty was made, as in 1586,1 when both Houses presented a joint petition to Queen
Elizabeth for the execution of Mary Queen of Scots. Her Majesty answered, and subsequently
sent a message in favour of Mary. Both Houses resolved to abide by their petition, and upon
Klixabcth giving an ambiguous answer, (lie Comptroller of the Household. Sir Francis Knolle*.
twok occasion to propose that earnest and devout prayer should be made to (!od to incline
her Majesty's heart to the petition, and that some apt and special course of prayer might he
devir-ed and put down by some one, and not only exercised in the llou>e everv dav, but abo
by all mcmlx'rs elsewhere abroad and privately in their chambers.
During the later Protestant Parliaments it was the custom for the Speaker to compose
a prayer to be read by him every morning during the session. The journals of the House
are missing for the later years of Queen Elizabeth's reign; but Sir Syinonds D'Kwes's journal
for 1597 gives the Speaker's (Serjeant Yclverton) prayer: —
^O Eternal (iod. Lord of Heaven and Earth, the great, and mighty Councellor, we, thy
poor servants assembled before thee in this honourable senate, humbly acknowledge our great and
1 " 1'arliamentary and Constituti»n:il History of Kngland," vol. iv. p. 300.
MAKY QfKKX OF SCOTS,
Who on a famr.ni occasion WM the tubjrct of n special prajer in the HOI:M of
OOCUMBK
399
400
Parliament Past and Present
Ml! r.l.VIAJMX lirbYi:UI>,
\ »ril An"»n member of Parliament of the reign
ofChntlc.1.
nunit'.ild sins and imperfections, and thereby our un-
worthiness to receive any grace and asM>tance fr.nn th<
yet, most merciful Father. >ince by thy providence we arc
called from all parts of tin- land to tliis famous Council
of Parliament to advise of tho-e tilings which i-..n,-«-rii
thv glorv, the good of thy Church, tin- prosperity of our
Prince, and the weal of her ]>eople: \\e most entirely
beseech thee that, pardoning all our sins in the blood of
thy Son Jesus Christ, it would please thee, by the bright-
ness of thy Spirit, to expel darkness and vanity from our
minds and jMirtiality from our speeches, and grant unto
us such wisdom and integrity of heart as U'cometh the
servants of Jesus Christ, the subject- of a gracious Prii
and members of this honourable House. Let not us, 0
Lord, who are met together for the public good of the
whole land, be more carele.-s and remiss than \M- u-e to
be in our own private causes. (ii\e grace. \ve lic-eech
thee, that every one of us may labour to show a good
conscience to thy Majci-ty. a good zeal to thy \Vord, and
a loval heart to our Prince and a Christian love to uur
country and commonwealth. 0 Lord, so unite and conjoin the hearts of her excellent MajeMy
and this whole assembly as they may be a threefold cord not easily broken : giving strength to
such godly laws as be already enacted, that they may be letter executed, and enacting such as
are further requisite for the bridling of the wicked, and the encouragement unto the godly and
well-affected subjects, that so thy great blessing may be continued towards us. and thy grievous
judgment turned from us; and that only for Christ Jesus' sake, our most glorious and only
.Mediator and Advocate, to whom, with thy blessed Majesty and the Holy Ghost, be all honour
and praise, power and dominion, from this time forth for evermore. Amen."
At the accession of James I. (1603), Parliament meeting on March 23rd, the business on
the ojiening day was preceded by "prayers to God for good success"; and we further learn
that "such prayers as had been ordinary in former Parliaments in the reign of the late Queen
were placed in the front of the Book of Common Prayer." The reading was undertaken by
the Clerk of the House, and a special prayer, fitly conceived for the time and purjKoe, was
read bv Mr. Speaker Kdward Phillips, "which was voluntary and not of duty or necessity,
though heretofore of late time the like hath been done by other Speakers." This Speaker's
prayer was continued every day of the sitting. In 1606 the Gunpowder Plot was the occa-ion
of the framing of a special prayer: —
"And forasmuch as all and every one of us have in this place, with wonder and a-toiiish-
inent and without any merit of ours, found a most evident assurance of thy mercie and
goodnesse, in a miraculous deliverance from the greatest danger by Popish treacherie. that ever
was attempted or threatened, towards our King, our State, and us: give us, good Lord, hearts
above the hearts of men to offer unto thee in the same place a daily sacrifice of thanksgiving
in the highest measure, together with a fervent and incessant xeal. care, and diligence in all
our proceedings for the settling of peace and happy estate of thy Church among us; the
preM-rvation of our King, his Royal progenie, ourselves, and our posterities and for the
preventing, suppressing, and small rooting out of the spring. i>-ue. and fruit of all such hellish
and Popish hearts, intentions, and practices, to the everlasting praise and glorie of thy bh»ed
Name."
The prayer for the Speaker was proposed to be added, but apparently a difference of
opinion existed as to its being read, for the journals of March 2(>th. Kiltli. record that "many
of the House wen- a-embled and the ordinary prayers said by the Clerk, but not the prayer
wanted to be said by Mr. Shaker, being so directed by the assembly."
The House at Prayers
401
During Charles I.'s reign the religious observances of the House occupied much attention.
A manuscript in the library of the late Sir E. Knyghtley, and printed by the Camden Society,
gives a detailed and curious report of a debate which took place in 1625 on the question of
the ordering of a public fast. First there was a proposal for a Communion from Sir Edward
Giles. This was immediately followed by a motion from Sir Miles Fleetwood to petition the
King " for a publick fast to our owne members." The Communion was ordered, and Mr. Hacket
appointed preacher. Then " some question was made of the place. It was propounded by
Sir J. Jephson, seconded by Mr. D. Norton, to be in our owne House " ; but to this course
strong objection was urged by Sir B. Rudyerd. "'I beseech you,' he said, 'not to refuse
the church — remember it is God's house — lest we make this a coventicle which should be
a Councell.' Soe it was agreed to be kept in St. Margaret's, Westminster." As to the fast,
the King, agreeably to the request of the Commons, gave directions for one day weekly to be
observed throughout the kingdom ; " but for the Houses of Parliament hee left it to themselves
when they would begin, and to make choice of their owne day." A conference between the
two Houses was now held " to agree upon a time and place for the faste, and whether it bee
together or asunder." In the result "the time propounded was Satterdaye ; the place for them
(the Lords) the Collegiate Church (Westminster Abbey) ; two bishops appointed to preach ;
three lords to observe such as were absent ; the manner according to the King's directions in
print ; and a collection for the poore." The same day, adds the writer, " was appointed for
ourselves ; St. Margaret's, Westminster, the place ; three preachers — Dr. Preston, Mr. Sute,
and Mr. ( Hdsworth ; and likewise a gatheringe for the poore." With three preachers to minister
to their spiritual needs, the faithful Commons must have lacked nothing in the way of mental
sustenance. But it was an age when long sermons and many of them were the rule — brevity
WESTMINSTER ABBEY AXD ST. MAKUAKET S CHUUC1I,
As wen from the toji of the Clock Tower of the Houses of Parliament.
402
Parliament Past and Present
in the preacher, indeed, would li:iv«> Iven looked upon almost as nn insult. Nor. it is to be
feared, was the desire always for spiritual enlightenment in tin- pulpit discourse-. Too often
they wen* made vehicles for ]Hilitical pro]aganda ; the sen ice itself was not always entirely
free from jiolitical significance. \\Y read, for example, in a letter dated April 2-lth. Ki-H). from
Sir Kdward Hurley to his wife, that the Kini; attended the service at St. Margaret's Church
which prewled the opening of the "Short Parliament." and that in res{M>nse to the prayers
"the |ieople cried 'Amen' so loud that it made his head ache." Poor Charle- ! Hi- liead was
soon to be free from such influence*.
The political Parliamentary sermon was a marked feature of the Commonwealth. From
the pulpit of St. Margaret's many fervent discourses were thundered forth by the "hot
gosjiellers " of the )»eri<xl. The fashion did not entirely go out with the Commonwealth. On
.January 31st, 1G88-9, Dr. Sharpe, preaching before the lion f Common- at St. Margaret's
according to their appointment, delivered what in the then circumstance- was a very dubious
di-course. His text was from Psalm li. — "Deliver me from blood-guiltiness" — and in the course
of his remarks he used several expressions which were taken notice of. "as that kin;,' killing
and king dethroning or depriving of kings were Popish doctrines." The reference \va- -o
clearly a reflection on the strong attitude assumed by the popular chamber towards Janir- II.
that the Commons decided to withhold the customary vote of thanks to the preacher. Nearly
a century later, on Restoration Day (January 30th), 1772. history repeated itself. On that occasion
the pulpit was occupied by Dr. Nowell. who appears to have given great umbrage by the
tenor of his discourse. The circumstances arising out of the incident, as related by (iilibon
in a letter written to Mr. Holroyd in February, 1772, are curious. "To-day." wrote the
historian, "the House of Commons was employed in a very odd way. Tommy Townshend
moved that the sermon of Dr. Nowell, who preached before the House on January 30th, should
be burnt by the common hangman,
as containing arbitrary, Tory, high-
flown doctrines. The House \\a<
nearly agreeing to this motion till
they recollected that they had already
thanked the preacher for his excel-
lent discourse, and ordered it to Ill-
printed. Nowell's bookseller is much
obliged to the Right Hon. Tommv
Townshend." (iihhon is a little \\nmu
in his facts. The journals show that
the House ordered the thanks of
Dr. Nowell to lie expunged therefrom.
An altortive attempt also seems to
have been made in consequence of
the incident to do away with the
observance of Restoration Day al-
together.
In tracing the career of the
political sermon, we have digressed
somewhat from the more immediate
theme with which we have been
dealing — the development of the
devotional svstem in the House of
Commons itself. Reverting to the
reign of Charles I. it may be noted
1IIK HKillT HON. THOMAS ToWN-MIAIi. rolii:n:N ; sKCHKTAUY IS TlIK that WhlM the Civil WEt WaS 111
EAHI, OP KiiKi.nrKSK's AiiMi sisTKATiiiv. progress in 1643 a covenant was
The House at Prayers
403
entered into and
signed by most of
the members not to
lay down arms " so
long as the Papists
now in open war
against the Parlia-
ment shall by force
of arms be protected
from the j u s t i c e
thereof," etc. Upon
the discovery of the
alleged " horrid
Popish and traitorous
plot for seizing the
City, forcing the
Parliament and join-
ing with the armies
raised by the King,"
the Commons ordered
that some clause be
inserted in the
Speaker's prayer for
giving thanks for
this discovery and
deliverance, and to
beg grace of God to
perform what they
had undertaken by
this covenant. And
it was decided that
a book be prepared
and the vow and
covenant entered
therein, all members
that entered into the
covenant being re-
quired to subscribe
their names.
INTERIOR OP ST. MARGARET'S CHURCH, LOOKING WEST,
Showing the " Raleigh window " subscribed for by American citizens.
It is at this period that we first meet with the chaplain— a functionary who is now an
important and indisputable member of the establishment of the House. The earliest record
bearing on the point appears in the journals for 1643: "That one of the ministers of the
ii-M'inbly shall be appointed to pray with the House every morning." At the same time two
members were chosen to move the assembly in the matter. A further stage was reached in
1650, when the House resolved: "The Governor of the College of Westminster do take
care that some fit and able person or persons do attend de die in diem to pray in Parliament,
and that they give their attendance accordingly." A few years later, during the Commonwealth,
it was ordered " that the lecturers who preach the morning lecture in the Abbey at West-
minster be desired to begin their sermon at seven of the clock and to end at eight of the
clock ; and then resort to the House to pray with them daily, before they enter into their
daily work ; and that Mr. Scobell, the Clerk of the House, do give notice to the ministers
hereof." There does not appear to have been any stated fee or payment for the services
404
Parliament Past and Present
tendered. Imt in 1659 the House
bestowed the sum of i.'iO u|»n a
minister for his great laUmr mid pains
in attending the Hou-e e\ery morn-
ing since tin- tirst meeting of the
Parliament and | terforiiiin.tr the duty
of pravers. Other minster.- were
awarded the thanks of the House
for prayer- and preaching. A regular
chaplain was tir.-t appointed at the
Restoration, and the imj^rtance of
recognising the oilier wa- given effect
to by the House ordering nieinliers
of his Maje.-ty's I'rivy Council to
attend the King and humbly re-
commend Mr. Edward Voyce, .Master
of Arts, for some signal mark of
favour in regard to his constant and
diligent attendance upon the House
since the beginning of the Parliament
as chaplain.
In the House of Lords prayers
were former!}' read by the Lord
Keejier, then by ministers, and after-
wards by the youngest bishop. Now
the practice is for a selected bishop
to officiate, according to arrangement.
With the apjHiintment of a regular
chaplain in 1660, compulsory attend-
ance of members at prayers was not
insisted upon. Although no relax-
ing of the understood rules in the
Commons took place, the House of
Lords then decided that " no penalty,
prejudice, or reflection shall be upon
any that are not present at prayers,"
and the Commons appear to have tacitly followed the example of the Lords. But betore that
period the Lower House from time to time made orders regarding the absentees from their
daily devotions. In Elizabeth's reign it was decided "that every of this House that cometh
after the prayer, which shall begin at eight of the clock, shall ]>ay fourpence to the poor
men's box." In Charles L's reign the penalty was increased to twelve pence, and upon one
occasion in 10-42 the money gathered of the members of the House coming too late for prayers
wa- ordered to be given to Dr. I-aiton to relieve him of his necessities.
The Commonwealth, in addition to appointing special ministers for prayers, fixed certain
days for devotions. In 1653, July llth was formally appointed "for seeking the Lord in
a special manner for counsel and a blessing on the proceedings of Parliament," and the next
day a 1'ilile was ordered to l>e provided fur the service of the House.
In 106(1. UJKMI Charles II. ascending the throne, a Committee was appointed to inform
themselves what form of prayer had hitherto been used in the House, hut no report was
made by the Committee, lint a similar inquiry was held in the House of Lords, and the
prayers enlarged to pray for the Queen and the Duke of York and the re.-t of the Koyal
Family, and thanks were ordered to be given for the Restoration of the King and Parliament
M All K <)K OUVKtt CKOMWKLL OUTSIDK WKSTM INSTKU HALL.
From thi* Bide of the Hall may be wen one of the great buttrcaaen of King Richard'*
time, and one of the flat Norman buttresses of the Ruftu age.
The House at Prayers
405
to "the happy condition that now it is in." The revision of the present Prayer Book was
finished on December 20th, 1661, and the Act of Uniformity, of which it was made a part,
received the Royal assent on May 19th, 1662.
From this period to the present only casual references appear in the records of Parliament
to the question of the devotions of the House. At times, however, allusions have been made
to the prayers in the course of discussion on religious matters, as in the case of Sir Robert
Peel in 1829 when introducing the Bill for the Relief of Roman Catholic Disabilities. "I
rise, sir," said the eminent statesman on that occasion, " to discuss this great question in
the spirit, enjoined in one of those beautiful prayers by which on the present, as on every
other occasion, the proceedings of this House are auspicated. In one of the solemn appeals
to the Almighty source of all wisdom and goodness, we are taught to lay aside all personal
interests and prejudices and partial affections in order that God may grant, in the simple
and appropriate language of that prayer, the result of our counsels on this day may tend to
the maintenance of true religion and of justice : to the safety, honour, and happiness of the
kingdom: to the public welfare, peace, and tranquillity of the realm, and to the uniting
and knitting together of the hearts of all classes of persons and all estates in the realm in
true Christian charity."
The present form of prayer is marked by an impressive simplicity. It opens with
Psalm Ixvii. — " God be merciful unto us, and bless us," etc. Then follow the Lord's Prayer,
prayers for the King and the Queen and the members of the Royal Family, and this special
invocation to the Almighty on behalf of the members of the House of Commons : —
"Almighty God, by whom alone kings
reign, and princes decree justice : and from
whom alone cometh all counsel, wisdom, and
understanding : we, thine unworthy servants,
here gathered together in thy Name, do
most humbly beseech thee to send down the
Heavenly Wisdom from above, to direct and
guide us in all our consultations : and grant
that, we haying thy fear always before our
eves, and laying aside all private interests,
prejudices, and partial affections, the result
of all our counsels may be to the glory
of thy blessed Name, the maintenance of
true religion and justice, the safety, honour,
and happiness of the King, the publick
welfare, peace, and tranquillity of the realm,
and the uniting and knitting together of
the hearts of all ]>ersons and estates within
the same in true Christian love and charity
one towards another, through Jesus Christ
our Lord and .Saviour. Amen."
The present chaplain to the House of
Commons, the Key. Basil Wilberforce, D.D.,
is also Rector of St. John's, \Vestminster,
and Archdeacon of Westminster. He is the
youngest son of the late Bishop of Winchester
and grandson of the celebrated William
Wilberforce, M.P., who played so conspicuous
and honourable a part in the movement for
the abolition of the slave trade.
THE VENERABLE ARCHDEACON WILBEKFORCE, CHAPL.
TO THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.
CHAPTER XXXI.
/.V CHMM1TTKK.
A STRANGER dropping by chance into Harry's vast building might find himself in an enormously
long corridor on tlie first floor, out of which open a succession of ornate apart incut-.
equip] >ed with a horseshoe table and a profusion of green leather-covered chairs. With some-
what nebulous views of the duties of a legislator, he would ask for information, and then
l«i"ililv for the first time would learn that the debates in the House constitute only a part.
and that not the most onerous part, of the transactions of Parliament. .More detailed inquiry
would bring him to the discovery that each working day in the Parliamentary session.
excepting Friday, a group of members is engaged for several hours in each of these rooms,
with the aid. in some instances, of an imposing array of counsel and Parliamentary agents.
and witnesses drawn jiossihly from the remotest confines of the kingdom, in threshing out
with jiaiiiful minuteness the details of some railway project or corporate improvement scheme.
or it mav be discussing the bearings of the latest economic movement affecting the body
politic, or jmtientlv investigating a grave public scandal. Thus informed, he would not
unlikelv arrive at the conclusion that here was centred the actual workroom of Parliament,
COMMITTEE-ROOM so. 15,
Where I|M niMtlngi of the Iriih FarliamenUry party »«re held to diwnu the qiiMtian of Mr. Parnell'i leadership after the trial of the rait for
divorce brought by Captain O'Sbca.
HOC
In Committee
407
And if he was so persuaded,
he would not be far wrong.
However unprofitable irmy
be the discussions below
stairs,- here there is always
real progress made ; however
meagre the sessional output
as far as general legislation is
concerned, here there is ever a
rich harvest of achievement.
The Committee system
of the House of Commons
provides an interesting object
of study, whether it is re-
garded from the historical or
the constitutional standpoint.
Seeing it as we do to-day,
so vast and complex in its
organisation, so powerful in
its influence on the life of
the country, it is difficult
to imagine that there was
ever a time when Parliament
existed without its aid. Yet
such is certainly the case.
For a long time, probably
for several centuries, the
Legislature conducted its
operations without the de-
legation of any portion of
its duties. Probably the
dawn of the system was the
establishment of the practice of going into Committee of the whole House when monetary
matters were under discussion. This, however, was an adoption of the principle merely in
name, for the House was constituted precisely as at other times, with the exception that the
Speaker was replaced in the Chair by a private member. The arrangement was resorted to
from motives of prudence. In ancient times the Speaker was more often than not a creature
of the King, a functionary who played the part of the spy and the eavesdropper, rather than
of the mouthpiece which he was properly considered to be. The " faithful Commons " were
not so faithful that they wanted every word they uttered about the monarch's probably
extortionate demands for subsidies carried forthwith to the Royal presence chamber, so they
discreetly excluded the First Commoner before they approached their business. Gradually this
practice crystallised into an established and cherished usage. Thus it happens that to this
very day the Speaker has to be " got out of the Chair " — oftentimes a long and tedious
process— before money matters can be dealt with.
I 'sing the term "Committee" in its wider and more popular sense of a delegated body,
there is reason to suppose that the system had its origin in the practice which grew up of
the two Houses conferring together for specific purposes. A certain number of members
from each met, usually in the old apartment of the Palace known as the Painted Chamber,
and discussed points at issue between the two branches of the Legislature, or questions upon
which it was desirable a common decision should be arrived at. It is not unlikely that some
arrangement of the kind came into existence within a comparatively short time of the
FROM Till; TAPESTRY THAT HUXG IN THE PAIN'TKD CHAMBER,
The scene reprewented is the siege of Troy.
408
Parliament Past and Present
separation of the two Houses.
But for its formal recognition
ue must come down as far
as the beginning of the sii-
teenth century. About the
earliest reference that can be
found in the journals is under
date May .r>th, 1539, when it
seems a Committee was
appointed -to pluck up and
extirpate the diversities con-
cerning the Christian religion
in the kingdom." Another
rec.ird. dated February 5th,
1544, relates to the holding
of a conference at eight
o'clock a.m. between "a
Committee of twelve Lords
and as many Commons,"
summoned to consider the
question of altering " the
King's stile." On the day
following the meeting a bill
was sent up by which it
was ordained that " the
ttile of 'King of England,
France, and Ireland,
Defender of the Faith,
and of the Church of
England, and also
of Ireland, in earth
the supreme Head,'
shall be united and
annexed for ever
Thraa tapettries were setup in the reign of Charles II., and removed in 1800. unto the Imperial
crown of the Realm of England." The custom, which seems at first to have been applied
to high concerns of State only, was gradually extended so as to embrace matters which
touched what may be termed the domestic life of the House. One notable Committee
summoned in the reign of .Mary, October 6th, 1553, had before it a question of considerable
constitutional interest. It seems that a certain Dr. Nowell, a Prebendary of Westminster,
having teen returned as member for Looe, in Cornwall, it was debated whether as a clergyman
he was entitled to sit in the House. A Committee was appointed to search for precedents,
and it reported in due course against Dr. Novell's claim, whereupon the House resolved that
the doctor "being represented in the Convocation, he cannot be a member of this House."
The worthy man was expelled accordingly, and the only satisfaction he had was in furnishing
a iii<»t interesting leading case for future guidance.
When we reach the reign of Elizabeth, the traces of the existence of the Committee in
the Parliamentary records are numerous. At the meeting of her first Parliament, on January :i()th,
1559, a Committee of twenty-four members was api>ointed to treat of a subsidy. On October 30th,
1566, a Committee of both Houses was nominated to deal with the delicate question of the
(Queen's marriage. In 1571 as many as three Committees appear to have been created. Two
were made up of members of the House of Commons, and the third was a body of "Privy
In Committee
409
Councillors with others." The last-named Committee was charged with the duty of examining
into an allegation that some members " had received fees and rewards for their voices." It
is satisfactory to know that it reported that it "could not learn of any member that had sold
his voice in the House, or any way dealt unlawfully or indirectly in that behalf." The place
of meeting of Committees at this period does not appear to have been fixed. The Star Chamber
seems to have shared with the Painted Chamber the honour of accommodating the delegated
bodies. On one occasion — in April, 1571 — the Temple Church supplied a meeting-place.
Later, in the stormy times of Charles I., Grocers' Hall, in the City, accommodated a historic
Committee of the House.
A knotty point was submitted to a Committee which .was summoned on March 23rd,
1607, in the reign of James I. It was instructed to search for precedents under the following
circumstances, as recorded in the journals : " The Speaker is sick, and no provision has been
made for choosing a Speaker from day to day. The King must give leave and approve after
choice made." The Committee, after due deliberation and apparently fruitless investigation
for precedents for dealing with so embarrassing -a situation, came to the sensible conclusion
that "if there be no precedent it is fit to make one." This solution of the difficulty was,
however, avoided, for the Speaker having recovered from his indisposition, put in an appearance
at the next sitting, and " it being Coronation Day, the members adjourn and attend church."
When we approach the troubled period of the Revolution, the Committee system is found to
undergo a striking expansion. Matters of privilege constitute the main staple of the subjects
relegated for inquiry. The many disputed points affecting the Royal prerogative came before
select bodies of members for consideration, and out of the decisions come to by them some
of the most momentous incidents of those stirring times directly arose. It should be noted,
however, that the development of the Committee system was far from being exclusively
political in its character. We read, under date March 20th, 1628, of the appointment of
AN iNTKi:iiut vn:\v, SHOWIXI; THI: AXCIKXT TAPESTRY, OP THE PAINTED CHAMBEU.
This iketch ii of Interest an a reproduction from one of the suppressed plates of Smith's " Antiquities of Westminster."
52
4io
Parliament Past and Present
Committees fur religion, courts <>f justice, grievances, nntl trade. There were standing Committees
similiar to the Grand Committees on Law and Trade which are jiart of the existing Parlia-
mentary system. We have, in fart, a distinct foreshadowing of the great instil ut inn as we
know it to-day. Apparently the nij>id growth of tin- system was not altogether to the tastes
of some members, for on .lime llth. Kill, we have a record of the appointment of a Committee
"for lessoning Committees." This attempt to put the break on the Parliamentary machine does
not ap|>ear to have been a brilliant success. As the years rolled by the activity of Committees
became, if anything, more marked. When the struggle with the King reached the acute stage.
the determination of many grave problem- \va> submitted to chosen Ixidies of Parliamentarians.
One Committee was ap]>ointcd " to consider the sequestering and seizing the estates of all who
are or shall be in war against the Parliament." Another Uxly was selected (on February iltli,
16-13) "to consider and bring in an enumeration of those more crying national sins for which
the nation hath not as yet been humbled before <iod." The next day a Grand Committee was
appointed '-to consider the taking away the exercise of all arbitrary power in all places and
preventing the exercise of the same for the future." In the ti f the Commonwealth
the controversies of the day are not less accurately reflected in the subjects dealt with. On
March lUth, 1649. a Committee of "plundered ministers" met to deliberate u]>on a hook. "The
Agreement of the People called into Consideration by the Ministers of the Province of Lancaster."
!n 1652 a reference was made to a Committee "to consider what cathedrals are fit to -land
and what are to be pulled
down." Then on November
25th, 16.56, a Grand Com-
mittee sits on the bill " for
uniting Ireland into one
Commonwealth with
England." Finally, on
April 4th, 1657, we read of
a report made from " the
Committee appointed t . .
attend his Highness, of bis
answer, ' That he was not
able, according to his duty
to God and to them, to
undertake this charge under
the title of King."'
Ho the records proceed,
contributing those abstract
and brief chronicles of
Parliamentary life from which
the historian draws his fact>.
and the constitutionalist his
information. Karly in the
eighteenth century we
emerge quite into the light
of the modern svstem with
its appointment of Select
Committees, charged with
the functions of a semi-
judicial inquiry. The great
financial mania popularly
I>ll. NOWKU.. rllKlir.NKAHY OK WKSTM1NSTKK AND DKAN (IF ST. PAUL'S,
Wuoet election for Loo.. Cornw.ll, wu u.nnll.1 by order of the Itoue of Common, in 15S8. Bubble Supplied the occasion
In Committee
411
for an inquiry at this early
period which has left its mark
on history. Sitting in 1721, the
Committee went exhaustively into
the whole of the incidents which
accompanied this extraordinary
movement, and finally presented
a report which inculpated Sunder-
land, the Prime Minister, Aislabie,
the Chancellor of the Exchequer,
Secretary Craggs, and other pro-
minent personages in the frauds
that had undoubtedly been
practised. Aislabie was expelled
from the House and committed
to the Tower for his share in
the transactions. Sunderland was
exonerated by his brother peers
from personal corruption, but such
was the feeling of the hour that
he was compelled to resign office.
More tragic was the fate of
Craggs, who in a fit of desperation
committed suicide. Anotherdeath
traceable to the investigation
was that of Lord Stanhope, the
Secretary of State, who was so
incensed at a charge of corrup-
tion brought against Ministers
by the Duke of Wharton in the
debate on the subject in the
House of Lords that he had a fit, from which he died the following day.
Another body, whose deliberations have been rendered historic by the great picture by
Hogarth in the national collection, sat in 1728 to consider the state of the Fleet Prison and
other gaols, the ghastly horrors of which had outraged the sentiment of even that callous
age. The report of the Committee, laid before the House on March 20th the same year by
General Oglethorpe, the chairman, disclosed an astounding state of affairs. It showed that the
patent of the office of Warden of the Prison having been purchased early in the eighteenth century
for £5,000 by Thomas Bambridge, that individual established for himself a little kingdom, in
which he ruled with the iron hand of the despot. When it suited his purpose he aided and
assisted prisoners to escape. To facilitate this end he " caused a private door to be made
through the walls of the prison out of the yard where the dogs are." He always kept the
keys of this door himself, and it was proved that with his own hands he let out a notorious
smuggler named Boyce, who was imprisoned for defrauding the revenue to the extent of
upwards of £30,000. Not infrequently Bambridge declined to accept prisoners even when
regularly committed by the courts of law. He preferred that they should be sent to an
adjoining sponging-house belonging to himself, where .they were subjected to systematised
extortion. If their friends were wealthy, and were willing to pay liberally, the detenus had
handsome rooms placed at their disposal, with every luxury. On the other hand, if they were
poor and friendless, they were banished to garrets, where they slept three in one bed and
were almost starved. The horrors of the sponging-house were such that prisoners were glad
to purchase the "privilege" of being admitted to the prison if they could by any means
JAMES, FIRST EARL STANHOPE,
Secretary of state in the reign of Geolge L
412
Parliament Past and Present
raise tin- money. If their <l<tn<; m-
was not ii liU-i-al one. they were
turned clown to tin- common side,
and even ]int into irons and incar-
cerated in loathsome dungeon*.
Many instances were cited be-
fore the- Committee of Ham bridge's
cruelty. Captain John .Mackpheadrk
a merchant and considerable trader
in 172O. being hound for large sum<
to the Crown Cora person. \\a-after-
wards ruined by the misfortunes of
that year. He was committed to
the Fleet; and having paid his
commitment fees, furnished a room.
Bamhridge demanded an extravagant
price for the accommodation, which
Captain .Maekpheadris refused to pay,
offering t he legal charge. Bumhridge
locked the prisoner out of his room
and forced him to lie in the open
yard called "The Hare." Here the
Captain built himself a hut to
afford protection from the weather
At night the hut was pulled down,
and Bambridge, although the
prisoner was unarmed, attacked him
with his sword, and was only pre-
vented from killing him by so-ue
of the other prisoners carrying him
into a room. Next morning 1'a Mi-
bridge brought a detachment of soldiers and ordered the prisoner to be dragged out and put
in great irons. These proved too small, so that in forcing them on the legs were nearly broken.
The wretched prisoner lay without a bed, loaded with the irons, which were so close riveted
that they kept him in continual torture, and eventually caused the legs to mortify. By some
means the prisoner petitioned the judges, and Bambridge was reprimanded; but he continued
to keep his victim in irons until six guineas were paid him.
A systematic course of cruelty was also adopted by Bamhridge towards another victim.
Captain Sinclair, who was confined in a loathsome place called the Strong Itoom. till he lost
the use of his limbs and memory, and became a human wreck. Yet another case was that
of Mr. .lohn Holder, a .Spanish merchant, who was a prisoner in the Fleet. This individual
had a room which he fitted up with his own furniture, and he also had with him all his
InMiks, accounts, etc., to the value of about £30.001). Bambridge took possession of the room
and its contents, and turned Holder over to the common side. As a direct consequence of the
cruel treatment to which the prisoner was subjected in his forcible removal, lie lost his life.
The report of the Committee contained various recommendations for dealing with the
infamous conduct of Bambridge and his accomplices; and the House of Common* resolved
unanimously that "Thomas Bambridge, the Acting Warden of the Fleet Prison, wilfully
|H-rmittecl several debtors to the Crown in great sums of money to escape, and hath been
guilty of the most notorious breaches of his trust, great extortions, and the highest dimes.
and hath arbitrarily and unlawfully loaded with irons, put into dungeons, and oppressed
prisoners under his charge, treating them in a most barbarous and cruel manner in high
THE DUKE OF WHAUTON.
A profligate nobleman who WRA a prominent figure in the House of Lords in the early
jKirt of the eighteenth century.
413
414
Parliament Past and Present
violation nml contempt of tin- laws of this kingdom"; also "That, an humble address be
pre-entrd to his Maje.-ty that In- will In- gracioiir-ly pleased t«i direct his Attorney-General
forthwith to pro-ecu! «• in the mo>t effectual iiiaimiT tin- said Thomas Hamhridge for his cri s."
Tin1 House ordered Ilamhridge to be committed to Newgate, and the S| eakcr issued his warrant
accordingly. A bill was brought in by firm-nil Ogh-thorpe, Mr. Karle. Lonl Pen-mil, and .Mr.
Hughes for disabling Bamhridge from holding the office of Warden; and another bill was intro-
duced by (iencral ( tglethorpe. .Mr. Cornwall. Mr. (ilanville. and Mr. Hughes for better regulating
the prison, and preventing and punishing arbitrary and illegal practice-, of the Warden in future.
Monstrous as were the cruelties perpetrated by Hamhridgc in the Fleet Prison, they
were surjiassed in infamy by the practices of the gaolers of the Marslmlse.-v 1'rison. into the
conduct of which establishment the Committee also inquired. A personal examination of
some of the prisoners revealed the exigence of a system of torture of the most atroeious
description. On one occasion, a prisoner having tried to escape, the ruthless tyrants, in
order to extort a confession as to his accomplices, screwed certain instruments of iron upon
his thumbs, so close that they forced the blood out of them. "After thi>." proceeds the
report, "he was taken to a room, where, besides the other irons he had on, they fixed on his
neck and hands an in in instrument called a collar, like a pair of tongs; and he being a
large and lusty man, when they screwed the instrument close, his eyes were ready to start
out of his head, the blood gushed out of his ears and nose, and he foamed at the mouth.
After these tortures, lie was
confined to a strong room
for many days, with a very
heavy pair of irons called
sheers on his legs."
Another case was that
of a prisoner, not having
any friends to support him.
who was almost starved to
death. I'pmi attempts to
escape he was taken by
the keepers dragged by the
heels, barbarously beaten,
and put into irons. Short ly
afterwards, the gaolers, for
their diversion, as they
called it, fixed on his head
an iron engine or instru-
ment, which appeared to be
an iron scull cap. and screwed
it so close that the blood
was forced out of his ears
and nose; at the same time
his thumbs were put into
thumb-screws and screwed
tight. The miserable man
was eventually released and
put into St. Thomas's Hos-
pital, where he died.
Hogarth's moving iiic-
FrvM CM <*g raring ky Um&rala*.
tore, in its pathos and
CIIAKI.KS KARL OF 8UXDKKI.AXD.
Th. **«. who. » Prin,. MlnUfr In th. r..gn nf Oeonj. I., ™ indicated In th. Sonth ^S^- 1'^hapS the great e>.
SM Bubble fnniU that sublime master ever
415
In Committee
p<ointed, brings home to us as even
this remarkable report of the
Commons Committee cannot do, the
horrors of the licensed infernos into
which the prisoners of that age were
shot. Amazing as it may seem to
our modern understandings, the strong
report of the Committee proved a
harmless bolt. The arch-scoundrel
Bainbridge, after being detained in
custody for a time on charges of
murder, was, through some mysterious
influence, released, and his companions
in iniquity were equally fortunate in
escaping the punishment thevjustlv
merited. Truly those were the dark
days of prison administration.
Many Committees for special
purposes were held at different periods
during the eighteenth century. The
matters with which they dealt were
largely political, and the interest in
them has evaporated with the lapse
of time. But there were some ex-
ceptions to this rule. For example,
a Committee which sat in 1788 and
1789 "to inspect the several houses
and other buildings immediatelv
adjoining to Westminster Hall and
the two Houses of Parliament and
the offices thereto belonging," dealt
with the question of the arrange-
ments of the old Houses of Parlia-
ment in such a fashion as to furnish
many points of attraction for those
who are interested in the life and
history of St. Stephen's. One feature
of the Committee work which may
be particularly mentioned is the THOMAS BAMBIHDGK,
distinct foreshadowing of the The Governor of the Fleet Prison, whose diabolical cruelties perpetrated on i>risoners
disaster which Ultimately destroved wei'e the 8U'U'ect °* a Parliamentary inquiry.
the old Palace. So impressed were they with the danger of fire which reposed in the
congeries of ramshackle buildings of which the Palace consisted, that they presented a special
interim report urging the removal of all private residences from the precincts as an absolutely
essential measure of precaution. When the time came for them to formulate their main
report, they showed an equal degree of prescience in sketching the outlines of a suitable home
for the Mother of Parliaments. "Your Committee cannot help thinking," they remarked,
"that some great and noble plan ought to be adopted, conformable to which public buildings
should be erected, not only substantial and convenient, but also of a magnificence suitable1
to the dignity of this country." At the instance of the Committee a body of eminent artists,
including Adam, Dance, and Soane amongst others, was appointed to inspect the buildings
and make a report upon them. The professional view when forthcoming was fully in harmony
4i6
Parliament Past and Present
<>I;I.KTIIOKPK,
Wko prattled over the Stlrct <'..n,niitt*e which «at to inquire into the »uto of
th» Flwt Pruon.
with tin- sentiments of the Committee.
They (li-i-hiivd tlicir astonishment at the
buildings having so long escaped the
danger of tire. They described them as
" unprotected by walls of eitlier brick or
stone, eoliliected and joined together by
eitlier lioarded or lath-and-pla-tcrcd part i-
tioiis; with iron liars to defend the windnu-
of the llio-t consequential offices, which
ser.-e to attract the lightning,1 to the
destrut'tioii of their valuable content-:
with funnels and chimneys running up in
old, decayed piers in the very bosom of
these combustible materials, in many of
which fire from a neglected chimney might
consume the whole; without the po-si-
bility of bringing sufficient water toexlin-
guish the flames, such aid being hitherto
overlooked or deemed unneces>ary. and
not more than one engine kept near the
most essential offices in this kingdom."
It is curious how exactly the architectural
experts divined the source of the mischief
which was ultimately to lay the Pal a.,-
of Westminster in ashes. As our readers will remember, it was a lire from a "neglected
chimnev '' which set the old building in a blaze and ultimately encompassed its ruin.
Of a different tvpe. and wider in its range of interest to this Committee, was a I'arlia-
iiientarv lx>dv which assembled in 1792 to inquire into the abuses attending the holding of
State lotteries. The investigation was directed towards, not the direct evils of the lotteries.
but against certain indirect evils which grew out of them. People, not content with the
gamble with which the (iovernment considerately provided them, embarked on a system of
tx-tting on the results of the drawings. These insurances, as they were called, attained to
enormous proportions. Offices wen' established all over the country, and every town was o\er-
run witli touting agents whose business it was to introduce customers to their principals. The
evidence recorded before the Committee gives a singular glimpse of life in that end-of-
the-eighteent h-ceiitury periixl. According to an official witness, the insurance offices were
"generally marked by a large number upon the windows, or a green curtain or blind." and
were tased with oak plank plated with iron — presumably so as to be able to stand a -
At the door commonly stood a man with an alarm bell, and when any person approached
whom he had reason to suspect was inimical to the business, he rang the bell as a warning to
the officials to e-eape. which they usually did by scaling a back wall or climbing to the roof.
< >r. a-ionally a tierce bulldog was left in the office, to be released when the myrmidons of
the law proved too pressing in their attentions. As a further safeguard the office-keeper-
ne\er showed their faces to a customer. '1 he applicant for an insurance presented him-elf
at a little window in an oak partition and obtained his voucher from the man who wa- -itting
concealed from view behind. Very large sums, amounting to several hundred pounds, were
often |mid a- the | rice of insurance of a single ticket. The -business, demoralising in itself.
was rendered more obnoxious by the character of the agents. Many of these individuals of
the IMHIHT Has- were in the habit of taking the insurances they had collected to larger agents.
From them they would ultimately receive- the amounts to which the more fortunate insurers
1 Tl.iit reads curiously us a professional opinion in these day.«, but, of course, the properties of the lightning con<l
were tticn little known.
X ~
a -
<T "
e 2
•?. Z
417
4i8
Parliament Past and Present
were entitled ; but, instead of handing these sums over, tin- rascals disappeared with tin- money.
It is dear from this that the "welsher" is not altogether a product of our modern civilisation.
Indeed, then' is a remarkable family resemblance between the problems which the in\e-ti-
gating authority of 1798 was called \i\tcm to solve and those which only this session (!!><>:.'
have occupied the attention of a 1'arliainentarv C'omniittee. The lottery Committee, it max
be noted, had little other result than the exi>osure of the mischievous influences of the
clandestine lottery insurance office. It was not until State lotteries themselves were supp:
as a dangerous nuisance that the irregularities which formed the subject of the 17'JH inquiry
were finally swept away.
Long before the nineteenth century was entered U]MHI the Parliamentary Committee system
had settled into the groove in which it now works. For the most part the subjects dealt
with were of a commonplace character, or touched matters in regard to which the interest \\as
ephemeral. An exception is supplied hv a Committee which sit in the year 1815 to consider
what was described in the rejM>rt as a matter of high importance as affecting the privileges
of members, and one in regard to which they could find nothing in the journals to guide
them, the case being entirely of a novel nature. The circumstances a< set forth were peculiar.
In June. 1814, Ixird Cochrane had been indicted for conspiracy, and was sentenced by the
Court of King's Bench to twelve months' imprisonment. In July, 1814, he was returned
as a member of the House of Commons for Westminster, but remaining in prison until the
following March, he made his escape and went to the House before prayers, and took his -eat
on the Privy Councillors' Bench on the right hand of the Chair. Six in after Lord Cochrane
had entered the House the Marshal of the King's Bench appeared with two or three of his
officers and other assistants, and
carried his lordship away to prison,
notwithstanding a remonstrance from
him, that they had no right to lay
their hands upon him there. The
Committee, after considering all the
circumstances, decided that the
privileges of Parliament had not been
violated so as to call for the inter-
position of the House by any pro-
ceedings agiinst the Marshal of the
King's Bench.
It is imperative on all memlier-.
excepting those in advanced years,
to attend sittings of Committees
when summoned. If they absent
themselves deliberately, they make
themselves liable to \ery serious
consequences. It rarely happens,
fortunately, that any coercion is
needed to bring a legislator to a
sense of duty. But there is one
instance on record of a comparatively
modern date which shows tiiat the
House is ready to apply the severest
punitive measure.- on occasion. The
case is that of Mr. Smith O'Brien.
• ,' Mim-i. Uaa»illau* Co , Lt.i. who came into violent collision with
LORD COCHKAM:, . ,
The celebrated «ilor, whoM notion a» one of the mcnibcn for Wwtniimter formed the *'"' 11()Use ln -Uil.v> »«M8, IOT I
rabject of Invotlgation by a Steltct Committee in 1815. clilling to Serve Oil English Railway
In Committee
419
ME. SMITH O BRIEN, M.P., IN" CUSTODY AT THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.
The Anteroom.
Committees. When
it was made perfectly
clear that the refusal
was deliberate and
arose from political
grounds connected
with the member's
desire to participate
in the great agitation
that was then in
progress in Ireland
over Peel's Coercion
Bill, the House by
vote gave Mr. O'Brien
into the custody of
the Sergeant-at-Arms.
By this functionary
he was conducted to
an improvised Parlia-
mentary prison in
Old Palace Yard.
Here, as he resolutely refused to purge his offence, he was incarcerated for .some little time,
receiving meanwhile the tribute of a fervent partisanship in the shape of complimentary
resolutions passed by various public bodies and political organisations in Ireland.
At one time the practice of entrusting important inquiries to a Committee of the whole
House was much favoured. For the nonce the House became a semi-judicial body, and heard
counsel, examined the witnesses, and discharged all the usual functions of a court of law.
Amongst examples cited by Sir Erskine May in his great work on Parliamentary practice
are the inquiries in 1774 into the miscarriage of the Fleet before Toulon ; in 1782 into the
want of success of the naval forces during the American war; in 1809 into the conduct of
the Duke of York ;
in 1810 into the
failure of the expedi-
tion to the Scheldt;
and in 1808 and 1812
into the operation of
the Orders in Council.
The custom which was
first adopted in the
case of Strafford's
Attainder Bill was
ultimately abandoned
as too cumbrous. Now
tin; Royal Commis-
sion, a Itody appointed
by the Sovereign on
the advice of his
Ministers and holding
its sittings apart
from Parliament, — f -•pry^pf^ ••-- . .-. -^
takes the place of MB. SMITH O'BRIEN'S IMPRISONMENT.
these Committees Of Passage to the Peers' Entrance.
420
Parliament Past and Present
tin1 whole House. An-
other old Parliamentarj
institution which fell into
desuetude as the nine-
teenth century advanced
\\a- tin- »y«tem .if (irund
Cm iitre-. which, as
already noted, \\.-i- set on
foot in 1028. In r nt
times, however, tile old
arrangement has been
revised ton certain extent
by the regular appoint-
ment every session of
(iniiid Committee., tu deal
with hills and matters
affecting law and trade.
It is unnecessary to
follow the Committee
system in detail through
the nineteenth century.
Suffice it to say that the
period witnessed an
enormous growth of tin-
number of bodies which
were created e\er\ se-sioli
to aid the work of the
I.egislat lire. The last
great Parliamentary in-
quiry was that undertaken
by the Select Committee
which sat in IS'Mi and
again in 1897 to inve.-ti-
gate the circumstances of
the Jameson Itaid and the complications which resulted from it in South Africa. Some of the
mo-t eminent members of (lie House assisted at the investigation, including .Mr. Halfour. Sir
.Michael llicks-1'.each. Sir William Harcourt. Mr. Chamberlain, and Sir Henry Campbell-Hannerman.
Since Warren Hastings had been impeached in the adjacent Hall a century before, there had
not been a keener or more widespread interest displayed in any Parliamentary investigation.
The public excitement reached its culminating point when the late Mr. Cecil Rhodes came
forward and submitted himself to examination on his personal share in the events which gave
rise to the inquiry. For several days the world listened with curious interest while the South
African statesman set forth in characteristic \\ay his version of the caiisati.ni of the Haid and
of the incidents that had attended and followed it. At length, after sittings marked \\ith
many dramatic incidents and some cm ions personal episodes, the Committee delivered a report
denouncing the Raid, and ap|>ortioning the blame amongst those guilty of its inception and
execution. A storm of criticism was excited by the inquiry, and controversy still rages around
certain aspects of it. Into these matters it is unnecessary to examine here. It must be
left to history, with a fuller knowledge of the facts than the world at present possesses, to
pronounce an impartial verdict upon the disputed points. Meanwhile, we may be content
to take leave of the Parliamentary Committee system with this striking example, in which
we see the power of investigation inherent in the legislative body in its most impressive form.
Frm a photo bu Elliott .1 Fry, Baltr Strut, 1C.
THi; RIliHT HON. CECIL J. llll(ilil>.
The great South African ctAtecman, who gave evidence before the South African Committee.
THE SOUTH AFBICAN COMMITTEE OF INQUIRY.
A lilting of the famous Parliamentary tribunal which sat in 1896 and 1897 to investigate the Jameson Raid.
421
CHAPTER XXXII.
LORD CHAM KLLORS— FAMOUS AXD IXFAMOl'S.
No record of the life of Parliament would be complete without an account of the I/>nl
Chancellorship, and of some of the illustrious men who have tilled that threat ortiee. Tlie nm-i
historic and dignified ]M»ition under the Crown, it has attracted to itself in the course of
the eight centuries of its exigence a mass of tradition which is closely interwoven with Un-
constitutional development of the country. As in the ease of tlie Speakcrship. tin- history of
the office is stained with instances of personal corruption and petty meanness; hut in times
of stress and peril, as well as in days of peaceful political progress, the Lord Chancellor — or
the \jan\ Kee|>er, as lit- was in earlier times styled- has ever been a splendid figure, wielding
on occasions a power little inferior to that of the King himself.
Tlie I<ord High Chancellor of (ireat Itritain. Keeper of the (treat Seal. is. by prescription,
Prolocutor, or S|K-aker, of the House of Lords, although in the latter capacity his functions are
somewhat of an anomalous and disconnected character. Jle is the highest civil subject in the
realm, and upon State occasions takes ] irecedence, after the lioyal Family, of all his MajeM
subjects excepting the Archbishop of Canterbury, and to slay him is high treason. At the
opening of Parliament hy the King in person, the Lord Chancellor, kneeling upon one knee.
hands his .Majesty the speech, and. if
so desired by the Sovereign, it is his
duty to read it to -.My birds and
(ientlemen," after the Commons have
been summoned to the 15ar of the
House of Lords. Occupying the oldest
office in the (iovernment, the English
Chancellor soon after the Norman Con-
quest became a judicial officer of high
rank and confidential adviser of the
Sovereign in State affairs. At first he
was styled the Chancellor of the King,
and Blacks! one states that "he became
keeper of the King's conscience, visitor
of all hospitals and colleges of tin-
King's foundation, and patron of all
Crown livings.''
Though the office is now held by a
lawyer of the highest distinction. tin-
Lord Chancellor was originally an
ecclesiastic, and the existence of tin-
office in England, as in other State- of
F.urope. may In- ascribed to the influence
the lioman Empire had on the consti-
tution of modern nations. The last
fro*, a* uiffmciHg ly iiovimi prelate to fill the office of Lord Chan-
ARCiiBisiiop WILLIAMS. LOUD KLi.i'Li: FROM 1C21 TO 162:.. cellor and Keeper was John Williams,
Th« lut prelate to occupy the woolmck. Archbishop of York frOHl 1G21 to 162.");
422
Lord Chancellors — Famous and Infamous
423
THOMAS A liECKET.
but the ecclesiastical influence still pertains to the position
to the extent of its occupant continuing to act as patron to
a certain extent of Crown livings in the Church. Although
holding three offices, it is as Lord Chancellor that the
influence of the holder of the office is greatest and of
most importance. He is President of the highest Court
of Appeal in the land and of the Chancery Division of the
High Court of Justice, a Privy Councillor, and holds an
administrative office, taking part in the political policy of
the Government of the day as a member of the Cabinet ;
yet when appointed to the woolsack he is not necessarily
a peer of the realm, although the honour of being ennobled
now invariably follows. Sir Robert Henley, who was ap-
pointed in 1757, was not created a peer until 1764, and
a little more than a century later, Sir William Page Wood
occupied the woolsack nearly a week before he was sworn
as Karon Hatherley. With the office of Lord Chancellor is
combined that of Lord Keeper ; but there is now no essential
difference between them, and few duties are performed bv the
latter ; but the position confers all responsibility pertaining
to it as custodian of the Great Seal. The seal is used for
the kingdom of Great Britain and sometimes for Ireland, under the signed authority of the
Sovereign. It legalises public documents of great importance, such as writs to summon
Parliament, treaties with foreign countries, etc., and although the duties in connection with it
are performed by the officers of the Keeper, he is responsible for its safe custody.
As Speaker of the House of Lords the Chancellor has an unimportant part to perform,
his duties being almost exclusively confined to mere formal proceedings, and putting the
i|iu-tion at the termination of a debate, whether the "Contents" or "Non-contents" have it.
As a peer he has only the same rights as the other peers. He does not decide points of order,
the House taking upon itself that duty ; but he has the privilege of intervening in a debate.
When he exercises this right, stepping aside from the woolsack, he severs himself temporarily
from his office and takes his place in the House as a peer. He is not as Speaker addressed
in debate ; the peer speaking beginning his address with " My Lords." In a division the
Ix>rd Chancellor takes a part and votes first, and if the numbers are equal declares the " Non-
contents " have it, no casting vote being exercised, as in the House of Commons. The salary
settled by Act of Parliament for the combined offices is £10,000 per annum ; and upon retire-
ment a pension of £5,000 is enjoyed. The holder of the office must not be a Roman Catholic.
As has been noted, the Lord Chancellor — or Lord Keeper, as the occupant of the office was
then styled — was in the earliest times invariably an ecclesiastic. Indeed, it was not until the
period of the Reformation, when with the casting off of the dominion of Rome many old links
were snapped, that the law took the place of the Church in supplying men to have the custody
of the Great Seal, and perform the more difficult task of keeping the King's conscience.
Running the eye over the list of past Lord Chancellors, we come across the names of most
of the great religious dignitaries who have left their mark on mediaeval English history.
Roger of Salisbury, Thomas a Becket, Walter de Grey, Richard, Abbot of Evesharn, William
of V.'ykdiam, Sim >n of Sudbury, and Cardinal Wolsey each in turn filled the office. Wolsey,
the greatest of tie race of ecclesiastical Chancellors, was also the last. His successor was the
illustrious Sir Thomas More, a man whose bent of mind and personal habits were peculiarly
those of the Churchman and of the scholar, but who, nevertheless, enjoys the distinction of
being the first lay Lord Chancellor. Afterwards, for a brief period in the reigns of Edward VI.
and of Mary, the old order was restored in the persons of Thomas Goodrich, Bishop of Ely ;
Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester ; and Nicholas Heath, Archbishop of York. But
424
Parliament Past and Present
BTKPIIKX CARDISKB, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER.
with the acces>ion of Elizabeth ami the
ap|H>intment of Sir Nichola~ 1'iemi a-
Ixjrd Keeper, the legal line- was n -
established, never attain to h • lirukcn.
excepting in the single instance, pre-
viously referred to, of John \Villiam>.
Archbishop of York, who held the (ireat
Seal for four years from 1<>21, in the
reign of James I.
The Elizabethan Lord Keepers anil
Lord Chancellor- were perhaps (lie nio>t
illustrious of a ijreat line. They emu-
prise Sir Nii-holas B:ICOII ; William Cecil.
I/ml Hurghley ; and Sir Fr.mei- 1', icon-
a trio whose names are indelibly written
in the annals of England. Their per-
sonal histories are intimately blended.
Sir Nicholas Hacon was the father of Sir
Francis Bacon, and he was the brother-
in-law of William Cecil, with whom he in
early life was a fellow-si udent at Corpu>
Christ i College, Cambridge. Nicln>la>
Bacon owed his advancement to high office primarily to his family connection with Elizabeth's
great Minister, who secured him the appointment of Attorney to the Court of Wards in l.'ihi.
and so jxived the way for his elevation to the greater dignity. But he was a man of marked
ability, and had distinguished himself in the reign of Henry VIII. by forming a scheme Cm-
the creation of a university for statesmen in London out of funds placed at the disposal of
the State by the Reformation. His conversation was salted with a ready wit which commended
him to the favour of his Royal mistress, who above all things loved a joke — when nut at
her own expense. His later years were troubled with an exceeding corpulence of habit which
rendered walking difficult. Contemporary writers show him panting and puffing as he walked
to the woolsack in the House of Ix>rds, and then, having seated himself and recovered his
breath, giving three taps with his stick to signify that business might commence.
Lord Burghley's connection with the Lord Chancellorship constitutes one of the slenden-M
of the titles which he possesses to fame. It lasted only for a short time, in 1591, towards the
close of his busy- life, when, old and in failing health, he had neither the disposition nor the
jK>wer to take any very active part in public affairs. It was a little after this period that
he wrote to his son: "If I may not have leisure to ease my head, I shall shortly ea>e it in
my grave;" and it was but a few months after handing over the Great Seal to Sir John
Puckering, his successor, that his secretary drew this pathetic picture of his condition :
"Methinks he is nothing frighted, but lying upon his couch he museth or slumbereth. And
Ix'ing a little before supper at the fire, I offered him some letters and other papers, and he
was soon weary of them and told me he was unfit to hear suits.''1 The aged statesman, in
fact, could not have been more than in a nominal and ornamental sense Lord Chancellor,
because of the serious decay of his powers which is here indicated. Slight, however, as the
association was. Lird Burghley's is a name which confers such lustre on the Lord Chancellorship
that it must not lx» readily dispensed with.
The hist of the eminent trio to whom we have referred was in some respects the greater.
in others, the least. In literature the name of Bacon has its place with that of Shake>peare
and Ben Jonson unionist the greatest of early English writers; in the law it figures in an
unenviable black list in company with others whose history we shall shortly have to recount.
1 Historical Manuscripts; HittfieM 1'apere, Part IV. p. 4.
Lord Chancellors — Famous and Infamous 425
As in the case of other great men who have a dubious past, Bacon has not wanted apologists,
and all that could be said for him has been well said ; but, despite the whitewashing, the
essential fact cannot be obscured that, partly on his own admission, he was found guilty of
bribery and corruption as Lord Chancellor by a Committee of the House of Commons, and
suffered accordingly. This unfortunate chapter in Bacon's life dates back to the year 1620,
when he was at the zenith of his career. He had just published his great work, the "Novum
Organum," and had thereby won for himself a European fame. In addition he had been
created Baron Verulam and Viscount St. Albans with much Royal pomp — a mark of honour
which, though, as Macaulay points out, posterity has resolutely declined to endorse, is yet
indicative of the height to which the Chancellor had climbed. Fortune in every respect
seemed to favour him, when suddenly out of a blue sky came a death-dealing bolt, in the
shape of accusations of bribery preferred by a Select Committee which had been investigating
the condition of the Courts of Justice. The indictment covered two specific cases. In the
first a man named Aubrey was concerned. While waiting for the adjustment of a suit he had
a dratciitg by Hollar.
YORK HOUSE.
This mansion wa* anciently the town inn or residence of the bisho|>s of Xorwich, and changed its name in York House in the reign of Queen
Mary, when Archbishop Heath purchased it for the use of that see. In the reign of James I., being exchanged with the Crown, it was granted to
George Villiers. The water-gate which apjtears in the picture is still to be seen in the Victoria Embankment Gardens, adjacent to the Charing
Crow Station of the District Hallway.
pending in Chancery, he was told by some of the hangers-on of the Court that a present to
high quarters would facilitate matters. Taking the hint, Aubrey went to York House, where
Bacon resided, and left a hundred guineas, which he had borrowed for the purpose from a
usurer. The Chancellor took the money, and Aubrey went away in the expectation that all
would go well with his business. In this, however, he was disappointed, for shortly afterwards
an adverse decree was registered. The second case related to a similar transaction, only in this
in>tance the douceur was £400. Evidence was at hand proving the charges up to the hilt.
In the circumstances the House felt it had no alternative but to take proceedings for an
impeachment. The King suggested the appointment of a special tribunal consisting of
eighteen Commissioners drawn from the two Houses ; but the Commons were not disposed to-
create such a precedent. On March 19th, the same day as the King's message was read, they
called a conference with the Lords and delivered the heads of the impeachment. "At this
conference," says Macaulay, " Bacon was not present. Overwhelmed with shame and remorse,
and abandoned by all those in whom he had weakly put his trust, he had shut himself up in
54
426
Parliament Past and Present
hi- chamber from the eyes of men. The dejection of mind soon di-ordered his body.
Buckingham, who visited him by the Kind's order, 'found \i\< lordship very >ick and heavy.'
It appear- from a j»atlietie letter which the unhappy man addressed to the Peer- mi the day
of the conference that lie neither e.X|K>cted nor wished to Mini\e his disgrace During -eveial
days he remained in his bed, refusing to see any human Ix-ing. Me pa--ionately told his
attendant.- to leave him, to forget him, never again to name his name, never t<> remember
that there had l)een such a man in the world." In the meantime new charge- of o irrupt ion
were daily being brought to light, and an additional impetus was thereby lieing given to the
jireliininarie- for the ini|>eachmcnt. An adjournment of Parliament by the Kin:; broke abruptly
in u|K>n the proceeding!!, but when the Houses reassembled upon April 17th they entered with
redoubled vigour u|>on the task of investig-.it ion. Bacon, pcr-uaded to that course by his
friends, now sent to the Ixmls a qualified confession of his guilt; and. on this being returned
as inadequate, he followed it up with a more explicit document, in the course of which he
said: "Upon advised consideration of the charge-, dc-ccnding into my own con>cienee. and
calling my memory to account so far as I am able. I do plainly and ingenuously eonfe-- that
I am guilty of corruption, and do renounce all defence." Upon receipt of this the Lords sent
a Committee to Bacon to inquire whether the confession was really his own. "My lord-." -aid
Hacon, "it is my act, my hand, my heart. I beseech your lordships to be merciful to a
broken reed." There was nothing left now but to pass sentence. This was done the next day
ill the absence of B:icoii. who
was too ill to attend. The
erring I.ord Chancellor
mulcted in a fine of
was ordered to be imprisoned
in the Tower at the Kind's
pleasure, was declared inc;i]i-
able of holding anv orticc in the
State or of sitting in Parlia-
ment, ami. a- a final touch, was
banished from the Court. Pros-
trate with shame and broken in
health. Bacon was coin eyed to
the Tower, to be released two
day- later by the King's orders.
Subsequently the tine \\as
remitted and the decrees of
exclusion and banishment an-
nulled ; but I'acon -pent the
remainder of his years in retire-
ment, supporting a M>mewhat.
troubled exigence on a pen-ion
of L 1.2(10 a year allowed him
by the Government. Me ex-
pired on KaMer I lay. l(>2(i. at
High gate, from the n-Milts of
a chill caught while travelling
to London. In his will he left
an appeal to the judgment of
posterity at once pathetic and
prophetic — '' For my name and
memory I leave it to men's
Who, on the KOMion »r < burin I.. WM entra»t«l with the limit Sral in miccewion to Wllllam»,
Ili.lM.p of Lincoln (afterward. Arcl,biili.i|. ,,t York). charitable Speeches, allU tO
ike painting iit the Rational Poi'ti-ait Gallery by Paul Vat\ Somer.
FRANCIS BACON, BARON VERULAM AND VISCOUNT ST. ALBANS,
The illustrious philosopher, essayist, and statesman. He was appointed Lord Keeper in 1617, and Lord Chancellor in the
following year. Jn 1621 he was dismissed from office for bribery and corruption.
427
428
Parliament Past and Present
JOHN" FINCH, l.iHMi FINCH llF FOItI>\VICK.
L-.nl Chancellor in the reijai of Charlei I.
foreign nations, and to tin- next age." The ex-
jH-ctation of ]>ost humous fame here indicated
ha> U-en fulfilled to tin- letter. While the
great man's errors arc for tin- mo»t part for-
gotten, his literary reputat ion rises i-teadily
higher as one generation Miceeeds another.
Wlicll Bacon wa< evicted from office,
his place was tilled by .lohn William*.
Bi>hop of Lincoln, who. after holding the
>eals for four years, handed them over to Sir
Thomas Coventry. This worthy was a lawyer
of distinction who had filled the ]M>S(S of
Kecorder of the City of London and of
Solicitor-General. It wa< his lot to occupy
the woolsack during the stormy period of
the constitutional struggle Ivtwecn Charles I.
and his Parliaments. In th" many contro-
versies which aro>e at the time, he exerci>i d
a moderating influence. But lie t«H>k a
strong line against the encroachments of
Buckingham, and might have gone farther
in a popular direction had not death put a
period to the favourite's ambitions. Sir
Thomas Coventry (then Baron Coventry) him-
self did not live to see the tragic i-Mie of
the constitutional contest. He died at Durham
HOII-C. in the Strand, in 1040. Sir John Finch. Sir Kdward Littleton, and Sir Kit-hard Crane
were his immediate successors, their united term of office extending over eight years.
During the Commonwealth the (treat Seal was put in commission. When next the
office was tilled, it was with no less a personage than Edward Hyde, Karl of Clarendon, the
historian of the Civil War. It is a singular fact that this great man received his
apjwintment three years before he was ahle to discharge the duties of the office. The
circumstance aroi-c through his fidelity to the Stuart cause. When, as far as the struggle with
Charles I. was concerned, all was lost save honour, lie fled to the Continent and remained in
exile in Holland until the Kcstorat ion. In 1G57. while he was at Bruges. Charle> II.. in
anticipation of his earlv return, with the genero.-it v which he alwavs showed when the giving
avvav diil not c<»t him much, conferred the Lord Chancellorship upon Hyde. The compli-
ment was prohably the fruits of the intimate tie which bound the Lord Chancellor to lin-
king by the marriage of his daughter. Anne, with the monarch's brother, the Duke of York.
Whether so or not, it drew down upon Hyde a great amount of jealousy, and almost as soon
as lie had got into office prompted formidable intrigues against his authority. .Matters came
to a head in July, lfi(!:5. when the Karl of Bristol, the leader of the Komaii Catholic party,
brought forward a formal motion in the House of Lords for the I/>rd Chancellor's inipi-ach-
ini'iit. on the ground that by slanderoii< reports as to the Kind's life and by proposals contrary
to the interests of Kngland, he was seeking to alienate from the Sovereign the affections of
his people. After the articles of impeachment had been piv>ented. the Duke of York,
Clarendon's son-in-law, got up in his place and cut short the proceedings by intimating that
it was the King's wish that the impeachment should not proceed.
An attempt was made to revive the proceedings in the ensuing session, but even less success
attended it than the earlier venture. Clarendon's enemies, however, were not to be denied in
this fa-hion. Keinfor 1 by the powerful aid of Lady Ca>tlemaine, the King's mi.-tres>.
between whom and Hyde there wa> deadly enmity, and aided by the disastrous trend of events
Lord Chancellors — Famous and Infamous
429
connected with the Dutch raid under De Ruyter, the intriguers in June, 1667, secured the
Lord Chancellor's dismissal, and the appointment in his stead of Sir Orlando Bridgeman. The
stroke was followed in October of the same year, when Parliament re-assembled, by an impeach-
ment of the disgraced Minister in regular form. A formidable list of charges was comprised
in the articles of impeachment. Clarendon was accused of advising the King to disestablish
Parliament, and to govern by a military power, to have caused divers of his Majesty's subjects
to be imprisoned in remote garrisons to prevent them from securing the benefit of the law ;
to have corruptly sold offices ; to have farmed the Customs at unduly low rates ; to have advised
and effected the sale of Dunkirk to the P'rench King for no greater value than the ammunition,
artillery, and stores were worth ; and to have deluded and betrayed the King and nation in
foreign treaties and negotiations relating to the late war, and to have betrayed his secret
counsels to the King's enemies. Behind the indictment was a great force of public indignation
aroused by the humiliating position to which the nation had been reduced by the gross
mismanagement and culpable neglect of Ministers. Moreover, though the specific charges
were in some instances exaggerated and distorted. by partisanship, there was behind them a
sufficient amount of justification in fact to give them on their own merits an effective force.
Clarendon was not slow to see the peril of his position. Not desiring to figure as another
Strafford in history, he. while the articles of impeachment were being debated, withdrew to the
Continent, leaving behind an elaborate written defence of his conduct. His flight was inter-
preted unfavourably by his brother peers. They framed a bill for his banishment, which was
accepted by the House of
Commons, and eventually be-
came law. This marked the
end of Clarendon's political
career. Accepting hi.s exile
with calm philosophy,
strengthened probably by his
earlier experiences of banish-
ment, he devoted the six
remaining years of his life to
the production of his " His-
tory of the Grand Rebellion."
His death occurring at Kouen
in 1674, his body was brought
to England and interred in
Westminster Abbey.
Two years before Claren-
don had passed away, another
man, who has left behind him
a great name in the history
of the Stuart period, had
ascended to the woolsack.
This was Anthony Ashley
Cooper, first Karl of Shaftes-
burv. Cooper owed his position
to Charles II., whose favourable
notice he had attracted as a
member of the deputation of
members of Parliament which
went over to Holland to invite
his return. But he was
endowed with excellent parts,
From tlie painting m tlte National Portrait GatUry by Sir Anthony van Dyclc.
EDWARD, BARON LITTLETON OF MOUNSLOW,
Lord Keeper of the Great Seal in Ihe Civil War iwriod.
430
Parliament Past and Present
and stood in no need of Rival Mi|i|x.rt to advance his claims. In the House of Commons he
enjoyed for many years u ^reat refutation as a sjM-aker. We>tmin>ter Hall knew him as a
brilliant lawyer. He was generally regarded as a man of great force of character and skill
in public affairs. His tenure of the l^ird Chancellorship justified these high opinions to the
full. In those e\entfiit closing days of Charles II. 's reign, when constitutional government
n greater danger than at any i>eriod since the days of Charles I., he took a bold
.-land on the ]>opular side. The op|>ort unity of showing his spirit occurred very soon after lie
had accepted the (ireat S>al. At the opening of the session of 1673 the question wa- raised
as to the legality of the Declaration of Indulgence, extending toleration to Roman Catholics
and Nonconformists, which the King on his own initiative had issued a .-hort time previously.
Charles, in his >pcech to the Houses, having declared his intention to adhere to the document,
a debute arose in the House of Commons terminating in the adoption of an address to the
King calling in quotion his action. Charles replied expressing regret that the lloiix- should
question his ecclesiastical prerogatives, whereupon the Commons passed a second addre>s. deny-
ing in plain and emphatic language the King's right to suspend any law. On receipt of the
second address. Charles, in dudgeon, went to the House of Lords to complain of the addn---,-.
At his instigation I,ord Clifford, the Lord Treasurer and the head of the Cabinet, got up. and
under cover of a resolution in favour of "establishing a perpetual fund in order to advance
the prerogative and render Parliament inconsiderable," inveighed against the action of the
Commons on the declaration, styling their vote monstrum horrendum niytnx. Shafte>burv
had lieen given an opportunity of perusing the >peech beforehand, on the assumption that he
wotdd supjiort it with his voice and authority. (ireat was the consternation, therefore, when.
instead of blessing the proposals, he delivered a strong argumentative speech in opposition to
the views elucidated. He showed that Clifford's propositions -were extravagant, that what he
aimed at would end in confusion, and the ruin
of the (iovernment, that it might perhaps
send the Royal Family abroad again to
spend their lives in exile without hope of
return." "All which he spoke," adds the
chronicler,1 "with so much spirit and shar]>-
nc" that he confounded the Court coun-e|>.''
"What a rogue have you for a Lord Chan-
cellor!" whispered the enraged Duke of
York to the King. " Od's fish ! " retorted
his .Maje>ty, "what a fool have you for a
Lord Treasurer ! " The Lord Chancellor's
speech clinched the matter. Charle> dis-
creetly withdrew his declaration.
As may be gathered from the little
Colloquy related above, there was no love lo>t.
between Shaft esbury and the Duke of York.
In truth, the Lord Chancellor was not at
any pains to conciliate the Prince. Hi> atti-
tude is well illustrated by a little incident,
which occurred when he had to preside over
the first sitting of the House of Ixmls. By
custom the seat on the left of the throne
was appropriated to the Duke of York, and
IJ.WAKI, HVI.K, K.V.C.. Or C,.AKKXI>OX, ,|,at Qn the rjgnt to ft p,, ,s] „,,., j, .,. ]>,.J11(V ,,,'
The iHiwtriou* I.onl Chancellor and hutorian. My the marriage <>( \\r i i» . ,1 , v • » v
M. <Un«bWr, Ann. Il,d., .i.h tl,. D«k, of York h. became togrLl- WaleS" But < '"' 'v*'"'1'" hi>V1"« l'r<>V('(1 ll:»'"'"-
f»ther of tvo Qn»eiu uf EngUnd-Marf and Ann*. the Duke crossed over and occupied the
1 Parliamentary Debates, 1GG8-1741.
4"!
432
Parliament Past and Present
chair on the right as the heir to tin- throne. Shafteshury, seeing the jiosition he was
told him tlmt his pro|>er jx>sition was on the left. The Duke manifested an unwillingne>~ to
accept the hint, whereujioii Shaftesbury said that lit- would not proceed with business until the
House was inform. The Prince yielded to the inevitable, but as he ] Kissed the 1/onl Chancellor
he exclaimed in passionate tones. ".My lord, you are a rascal and a villain." Shaftesbury. with
unmoved countenance, turned to him and ol>served with mock courtesy. "1 am much obliged to
your Koyal Highness for not calling me likewise a coward and a papist."
Towards the King, Shaftesbury maintained, for a time at least, nn attitude of loyal
devotion. His sjieech at the opening of Parliament in the session of 1G72-3 was couched in
a strain of high-flown eulogy. "Let us," he said, "bless God that hath given this King
signally the hearts of his people, and most jtarticularly of this Parliament, who in affection
and loyalty to their Prince have exceeded all their predecessors; a Parliament with whom the
King hath for many years lived with all the
caresses of a happy marriage. Has the King
bad a concern, you have wedded it. Has
his Majesty wanted supplies, you have
readily, cheerfully, and fully provided for
them. You have relied upon the wisdom and
conduct of his Majesty in all his affairs, so
that you have never attempted to ex<- I
your IH muds or to imjwse upon him. . . . And
let me say that, though this marriage be
according to Moses's law, where the husband
can give a bill of divorce, put her away,
and take another, yet I can assure you it is
as impossible for the King to part with this
Parliament as it is for you to depart from
that loyalty, affection, and dutiful behaviour
you have hitherto showed towards him."
Shaftesbury's smooth words were followed
by action which showed that he was not
content to fill the role of a courtier. As
he had earlier in the year heartily sup]xirted
the Test Act, which, by compelling all persons
holding positions of profit under the Crown
to receive the Sacrament according to the
rites of the Church of England, had forced
the retirement of Clifford and the Duke of
York with other members of the Hainan
Catholic party, so now he leaned towards the side of those who, from a desire to maintain the
Protestant succession, opposed the King's demand for fresh subsidies to conduct the war then
being prosecuted against the Dutch. This ensured Shaftesbury's downfall. After Charles had
prorogued Parliament in anger, he dismissed his Lord Chancellor, transferring the seals to Sir
Heneage Finch. Later Shaftesbury threw himself with zeal into the cause of the popular party.
and was foremost amongst those who were instrumental in bringing about the great consti-
tutional changes which preceded and accompanied the Revolution of 1688. It is unnecessary to
follow his career in detail, but one notable incident in which he figured after he resigned the
seals may be mentioned as an indication of the influence he wielded at this critical period in
English history. This was the delivery of a remarkable speech in a debate in the House of Ix>rds
in 1675 on a question of privilege arising out of the assertion by the Peers of a right to
summon before them in a judicial proceeding a member of the House of Commons, and of the
denial by the Commons of the existence of any power by which the Lords could receive appeals
Frwn an engraving by R. H'ttitt.
SIR ORLANDO BRIDGK.MAX,
The taaxmoT at Ix.nl Clarendon in the Lord Chancellorship.
From a fainting by Giorgt Ptr/Kt Harding.
EDWARD HYDE, EARL OF CLARENDON.
Th.ii«aLortCta««U«coltb.«lfBofCl«rt«lI..ui<llh«Milborol"Th. Htotocr of Ih, tub.lll«o." On. of tbtmort fmmwu m«n ol th. Biuirt p«lo<t
Lord Chancellors — Famous and Infamous
433
from a court of equity. Shaftesbury stood up boldly for the rights of the Upper House, claiming
that aristocratic institutions were essential to the maintenance of popular government. From
a defence of this principle he launched into an attack on the high-flown doctrines of regal
infallibility then current. " This Laudian doctrine (divine right)," he said, " is the root that
produced the Bill of Test last session, and some very perplexed oaths that are of the same
nature with that and yet imposed by several Acts of this Parliament. In a word, if this
doctrine be true, our Magna Charta is of no use ; our laws are but rules amongst ourselves
during the King's pleasure. Monarchy, if of divine right, cannot be bounded or limited by
human laws; nay, what is more, cannot bind itself; and all our claims of right by the law, or
of constitutional government, all the jurisdiction and privilege of this House, all the rights
and privileges of the House of Commons, all the properties and liberties of the people, are to
give way not only to the interest, but the will and pleasure of the Crown." Further on
in his speech Shaftesbury boldly proclaimed the right of resistance to arbitral-}7 authority in
terms which allowed of no misconception. A great sensation was produced by the harangue.
Not only did it, in the
words of a contemporary
writer, throw the House
of Lords '• into a flame,"
but it produced a marked
impression on the out-
side public, whose minds
were being excited to a
dangerous pitch by the
growing despotism of the
Crown. Charles so little
liked the speech that he
prorogued Parliament to
prevent further mischief.
Shaftesbury's subse-
quent political career was
in strict keeping with the
principles enunciated in
his remarkable utterance
in the House of Lords.
He determinedly opposed
the encroachments of the
King, and as resolutely
upheld the Protestant
succession, which he
looked upon as indispens-
able to peaceful consti-
tutional government.
After battling strenuously
and brilliantly for the
popular cause, he was
overwhelmed by the re-
actionary influences which
swept over the country
after the sitting of
Charles's third Parlia-
ment at Oxford in 1681.
He was arrested on a
from an engravlny ly R. White.
ANTHONY ASHLFA- COOPER, FIRST EARL OP SHAFTESBURY,
The famon» member of the Cabal Ministry in the reign of Charles II. He was Lord Chancellor from
1072 to 1675.
55
434
Parliament Past and Present
HKNKAlii: FINCH. I.olM. NOTTINGHAM,
J-c'id ChancoUor from 1675 to 1682.
Finch, Lord Nottingham. Tliis able lawyer
afterwards Ix>rd (Juilford, was appointed Lord
the Ijiw Courts, and his name stands
high in the annals of the law. Hut he
was in failing health when he won his
promotion to the woolsack, and dying on
September 5th, 168.5, less than three
\rars after his appointment, lie lias left.
but small mark on the history of the
great office he filled. Not so his
notorious successor, Jeffreys. On the
great roll of Lord Keepers and Lord
Chancellors there is no name which
IUIN been more execrated, or to which
is attached more sinister memories. A
blustering, hectoring judge, utterly devoid
o| M-ruple. and merciless as he was un-
fair, he was the chosen tool selected by
.lames II. to wreak vengeance on the
wretched victims of Monmouth's abortive
rising. How he conducted the Uloody
A — i/e in the We>t. Country, mocking
the unfortunate pri-oiier> as he consigned
them wholesale to the gallows, is a well-
rememliered dark page of Knglish history.
I'nemiaMe as is the distinction which
this episode enjoys in the records of
charge of high treason, but the grand jury
of Middlesex — men of his own way of jiolilieal
thinking — threw out the bill, and he was set
at lilx'rty. Dryden based upon the incident
hi> satire of Alisiilnni mil! A<li iti>/,!,il . In
this Shafte-luiry is described in the>e well-
known lines : —
For close designs and crooked councils fit ;
Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit ;
licsilos, iinfixrd in principles ami place:
In power unpleased; impatient of disgrace;
A fn-ry Mini, which worketh out its way,
Kri'it.-d tin- pigmy body to decay.
Anil o'er informed the tenement of clay.
A daring pilot in exl remit r;
Pleased with the danger when the waves ran high.
He sought the storms; but, for a calm unfit,
Would Meer too nigh the sands to show his wit
I)rvden's mordant verse stimulated the Tory
fervour against Shaftesbury. The machina-
tions against him were prosecuted with re-
doubled vigour, until, alarmed for hi> >afety,
he fled to Holland, where death put an end
to his career on January 22nd. 1683.
As has been noted, the »al- were
transferred from Shaftesbury to Heneage
held office until 1682, when Fran.-i- North,
Keeper. North had had a splendid career in
riiANCIs MiltTII, l.lilil) liUII.FOltll.
Lord Keeper from 1682 to 1686.
435
436
Parliament Past and Present
injustice, it was this degrading work
which was tin- direct cause of
Jeffrey.-'s elevation to tin- I/ord
Chancellorship. Keturning from his
circuit, his ruthless \mrk accom-
plished, Jeffreys called at Windsor.
where James, delighted at the
thorooghneea with which his wishes
liail been carried out (•• taking into
account liis royal consideration, the
many eminent and faithl'ul services
which the Chief .lii-tice had rendered
the Crown'';, appointed him to the
woolsack on September USth. 1685.
The opening of Parliament on
November iJtli saw Jeffreys occupy-
ing the coveted seat of honour in
the House of Lords. (IIMH! fortune
seemed to bring out tho»e insolent
qualities in his nature which made
his name a byword in the courts of
justice. When, on November 18th,
it was proposed by the Bishop of
London to take the Kind's sjM-ecli
into consideration, he delivered a
hectoring harangue in opposition,
distributing personalities with a free-
dom which suggested that drink, to
which he was prone, had loosened
his tongue. For once, however, he
had overshot the mark. A proper
indignation was excited amongst the
assembled peers by the display, and before the sitting closed Jeffreys was compelled to
tender an abject apology for his conduct. But he was too high in Royal favour for a
temporary check like this to affect his position. Later months found him brutally active
and aggressive in executing the desjwtic decrees of the King. He played a leading part
in the historic expulsion of the Fellows of Magdalen College, Oxford, for declining to
accept the King's Roman Catholic nominee to the presidentship of the college. As head
of the board of regulators created by the infatuated monarch to ensure the election of
a Parliament which would bend to his will, he also assisted actively in the proceedings
which led up to the issue of the second Declaration of Indulgence, and precipitated the
final crisis. \Vhen at last the crash came, he was found sharing James's company at
Whitehall, taking with him there the Great Seal. This emblem of office was surrendered
to the King, and when the monarch made his pusillanimous Might on the night of
December llth he carried ii off, dropping it into the Thames a< he crossed to the I,ambeth
shore at the point where the Jlorseferry Bridge now stands. .Meanwhile Jeffreys, with a vivid
consciousness of the personal danger to himself that threatened in the changed conditions,
donned the disguise of a sailor, and concealed himself on board a vessel at Wapping, with
intent to put the Channel between him and his enemies at the earliest [nissilile moment.
AH would prolwibly have been well had not he in a rash moment ventured ashore to satisfy
his craving for drink. While in the bar of the Ixed Cow Inn. near King Kdward's .Stairs, he
was recognised by a scrivener who had suffered through a decision he had given in an action
GEORGE, FIRST LORD JEFFREYS,
Tli.- notorinoi judge win, filial the office of Ix>nl Chancellor from IrtSS to 1688.
438
Parliament Past and Present
brought in his Court. The man rai>ed an outcry. In a trice an excited crowd gathered, and
would have severely mauled the ex-Chancellor had not a body of train bands re>cued him and
taken liim to the City. Jeffreys was conveyed by his captors before tin' I^ml Mayor, and tliat
worthy was so overcome by the unexjM-cted sight of the once all-powerful Chancellor in the
hands of men-of-arins, like any common malefactor, that he fell down in a swoon. Then-alter.
at his own rei|iie>t, .IctViws \\a> taken to the Tower. There he remained until April 18th
following, when, weighed down with anxiety and the effect » of his intem|>erate living, he expired.
For four vears from the death of Jeffreys the Great Seal remained in commis-ion. When
next an a]i|>ointnient waa made, the choice fell upon John, Ixml Somers. Amongst the jwlitical
from a drateiitg by A. D. J/cGwmiot.
JAMES II. DROPPING THE GREAT SEAL 'INTO THE THAMES.
One of the two occasion* in history in which the Lord Chancellor's emblem of office waa matte away with.
figures at the end of the seventeenth century there is hardly one which is more attractive than
"the gentle Somers." In an age when corruption was a venial failing in a public man he
bore an unblemished reputation. He was something of a scholar, and in his younger days,
before the law claimed his undivided allegiance, wrote some elegant verse, and was responsible
for several spirited translations of the classics. As a lawyer he early achieved a great reputation.
Only his youth prevented his heing selected as the junior counsel for the defence at the trial
of the seven bishops. Subsequently he was chosen by the Convention Parliament as one of
the managers of the conference with the House of Lords on the question of the acce.— ion
of William and .Mary, and made a notable speech to the assembly. His rise to high official
)K,-i!ioii was directly due to the skill he showed on that occasion. The King appointed him
Lord Chancellors — Famous and Infamous
439
almost immediately Solicitor-General, and in 1693 he was promoted to the post of Lord
Keeper, the higher rank of Lord Chancellor being conferred on him two years later. A pleasing
sketch of him at this period is given by a contemporary writer in a survey of the leading
characters of the time. Sorners, he said, "has gained such a reputation of honesty with the
majority of the people of England that it may be said very few Ministers in any reign ever
had so many friends in the House of Commons. He can go into the City and on his bare
word gain so much credit of the public. He gives entertainments to foreign Ministers more
like one always bred up in a Court than at a Bar. He is of grave deportment, easy and free
in conversation, something of a libertine, of a middle stature, brown complexion."
Other writers of the period testify to Somers's singular charm of manner and the purity
of his official methods. Unfortunately for himself, he was a little too much of the courtier, for
an ill-advised compliance with a request made by the King for the affixing of the Great Seal
to a blank treaty which he designed to conclude with France without the knowledge of
Parliament led to his impeachment by the House of Commons after his dismissal from office
by the King. Before the actual decision was come to, Somers appeared unexpectedly at the
Bar of the House, and demanded, and was granted, a hearing. He defended himself with great
eloquence and power ; but the tide of partisan feeling set too strongly against him for his
arguments to have any effect. His enemies, with intent to increase the prejudice against
him, supplemented the charge of constitutional irregularity with a more dishonouring one of
connivance in Captain Kidd's piracies, because the infamous buccaneer had been entrusted
with a command through the influence of Lord Somers and Lord Halifax. This accusation
Somers repudiated with the mild remark : " As to Kidd's business, we hope there can be no
blame, though perhaps we may
appear somewhat ridiculous."
The Duke of Shrewsbury, to
whom the statement was
addressed, did not regard the
paltry treatment of his friend so
lightly. " I wonder," he said,
" that a man can be found in
England, who has bread, that
will be concerned in public
business. Had I a son, I would
sooner breed him a cobbler
than a courtier, and a hangman
than a statesman."
The intrigue against
Somers failed as it deserved.
A quarrel with the House of
Lords on some question of
etiquette provided an oppor-
tunity for withdrawing from
an untenable position, which
the Commons were not slow
to avail themselves of. In a
simulated fit of anger they
prohibited by resolution any
member of their House from
attending the trial and,
naturally, as no one appeared
to prosecute, the impeachment
fell to the ground.
From an engraving by Houlimken, after the picture by Sir Godfrey Knellcr.
JOHN, LORD SOMERS,
The eminent lawyer and statesman. Lord Keeiwrand Lord Chancellor from 1003 to 1700.
442
Parliament Past and Present
Chant-pry, and Ix-ing told that a present was expected. He oniMiltrd his friends learned in
such matters, and offered a thousand guineas. " I'poii this Mr. Cott ingham (I/iid Maeelestield's
agent) shook his liead and said: -That won't do. Mr. IVnnet ; YOU must lie better advised.'
' Wliv.' said I. ' won't tliat do? It is a noble present.' Says lie: 'A great deal more lias Ixvn
given.' Says I: 'I am Mire my In-other did not givou ranch; DOT Mr. Godfrey.'" After further
chaffering the price was fixed at tifteen hundred guineas, and after pavment of the money the
purchaser was sworn in Lord .Maeelestield's Ix-dchamber. whither the purchase price had
]ireviously Ixvn carried by his agent. Similar testimony was given by another \\iti,
llparing of a vacancy, he waited 11)1011 the Chancellor to solicit the a|>|M>intment. He was told
by that functionary that he had no manner of objection to him, as he had known him a
considerable time. Finally, he was dismis-ed with the injunction to go home and consider
the matter. This the applicant did, with this result. '-I came again in a day or two.
and told him I had considered of it, and
desired to know if his lord-hip would admit
me, and I would make him a previit of
i'-UHN) or L.I.OOO; 1 cannot say which .of
the two I said, but I believe it ua-
i.l.onu. My lord said: -Thee and I or
you and I' (my lord was pleased to treat
me as a friend) 'must not make bargains.'
He said that if I was desirous of having
the office he would treat me in a different
manner than any nian living." Eventually
the aspirant to office got into touch with
die ubiquitous agent, and settled for t In-
payment of five thousand guineas, because
he was told "guineas are handsomer.'' It
was a strictly cash transaction. "I imme-
diately went to my lord's ; I was willing
to get into the office as soon as I could.
I did carry with me five thousand guineas
in gold and l«uik notes. I had the money
in my chambers, but could not tell how-
to carry it, it was a great burden and
weight ; but, recollecting that I had a basket
in my chamber, I put the guineas into the
basket and the notes with them ; I went in
a chair and took the basket with me in my
chair. When I came to my lord's house I
saw Mr. Cottingham there; and I gave him
the basket, and desired him to carry it up to my lord. I saw him go upstairs with the basket,
and when he came down he intimated that he had delivered it." Subsequently, as the newly
enrolled Master wanted the basket, he spoke to "my lord's gentleman," and it was returned
to him. •• \\"as there any money in it?" the examining counsel somewhat superfluously asked.
"No, there was not," responded the witne--.
An ingenious d"fence. based on the plea of usage, was made by the accused peer; but
the offences were too gross to be palliated by any such line of reasoning. After a ten days'
hearing, the Lords unanimously voted the accused guilty of the charges laid at his door.
Lord Macclesfield, on appearing at the liar and learning the decision, threw himself upon the
compassionate consideration of his judges, urging as grounds for merciful treatment the
cruel distemper which the fatigue and anxiety of the trial had brought upon him, the loss
of his office, the public disgrace, and the fact that he had paid back a sum of £10,000
*t engraving afltr the picti'rt '/" NiV H<>-!
FRANCIS ATTF.RBURV, BISHOP OK KOCHESTKK.
Lord Chancellors — Famous and Infamous
443
towards Dormer's deficiency. After this appeal he withdrew, and the Lords consulted as to
the sentence. They decided eventually to fine the ex-Lord Chancellor £30,000. This
sum Lord Macclesfield paid after he had been imprisoned a few weeks in the Tower.
Public opinion upheld the justice of the punishment meted out to the accused. A common
saying at the period was that Staffordshire had produced "three of the greatest rogues that
ever existed — Jack Sheppard, Jonathan Wild, and Lord Macclesfield." The disgraced Lord
Chancellor accepted his fate with philosophical calm. Ketiring to his estate, he spent the
remainder of his davs in close seclusion.
Two other familiar names associated with the Lord Chancellorship in the early eighteenth-
century period are those of Lord Harcourt and Earl Cowper. The careers of the two men, as
Townsend in his "Memoirs of the House of Commons" points out, were singularly blended.
"Descended alike from ancestors of rare antiquity, rivals in Westminster Hall, antagonists in
St. Stephen's Chapel, the leading champions of their party, still more renowned in the Senate
than the Forum, and devoted by their oratory to the height of legal ambition, they might be
compared together, after the manner of Plutarch, though their political character affords rather
a marked contrast than comparison. Unscrupulous as a public man, unprincipled, unstable, at
the suggestion of self-interest versatile, a renegade on calculation, Lord Harcourt has left a name
which it required a century of merit in his descendants to redeem from ignominy. The mild.
disinterested course of Cowper, beaming with public virtue to the close, and never shadowed
once with even a fleeting sus-
picion that he acted from
motives of sordid ambition or
pelf, has shed a lustre on his
name, which adds an adven-
titious grace to the spotless
reputation of the pure-minded
poet, the author of The Task."
Earl Cowper, who was the first
Lord Chancellor of Great
Britain, distinguished himself
by declining on his appoint-
ment the New Year gifts which
former holders of the Great
Seal had been in the habit of
receiving from the officials and
counsel practising in the Court
of Chancery. This disinterested
action on his part created a
great prejudice against him
amongst those who were in
favour of upholding the old
corrupt traditions; but the
public rightly appraised the
motives which dictated the
renunciation, and to the end
of his long career, which ter-
minated with his resignation
of the Great Seal at the con-
clusion of his second term of
office in 1718, held him in
high regard. Cowper was dis- SIR PETER KING,
tinguished by a Singular grace The son of a grocer at Exeter, who, by dint of perseverance, worked his way up to the woolsack.
444
Parliament Past and Present
and charm of manner. His bearing in Court, whether towards counsel or witnesses, was
marked by great dignity and courtesy. It is of him that the well-known story is told
by Miss Hawkins in her "Memoirs" of how Kichard Cromwell, then a very old man, being
engaged in some litigation in the Lord Chancellor's Court, was invited to take a seat on
the bench by the side of the judge — a graceful act, which drew from Bulstnxle Whitelock,
then at the liar, the remark: "This day, so many years, I saw my father carry the Great
Seal before that man." As an orator Earl Cowper was justly esteemed in his day. One
specimen of his eloquence may be given to illustrate the purity of his style. It is the
peroration of a celebrated speech he delivered in the House of Lords in 1723 on the bill of
pains and jenalties by which the Government of the day sought to punish Bishop Atterlmry
and his co-conspirators. "My lords," he said, "I have now done; and if upon this occasion I
have tried your jwitience, or discovered a warmth unbecoming me. your lordships will impute
it to the concern I am under, lest, if this bill should pass, it should become a dangerous
precedent for after ages. My zeal as an Englishman for the good of my country obliges me
to set my face against oppression in every shape; and wherever I think I meet with it (it
matters not whether one man or five hundred be the oppressors), I shall be sure to oppose it
with all my might. For vain will be the boast of the excellency of our Constitution, in vain
shall we talk of our liberty and property, secured to us by laws, if a precedent shall be
established to strip us of both, where both law and evidence are confessedly wanting. My
lords, upon the whole matter I take this bill to be derogatory to the dignity of Parliament
in general, to the dignity of this House in particular. I take the pains and j»enalties in it to
be much greater or much
less than the Bishop deserve>.
I take every individual branch
of the charge against him to
be unsupported by any evi-
dence whatsoever. I think
there are no grounds for any
private opinion of the Bishop's
guilt, but what arises from
private prejudice only. I think
private prejudice has nothing
to do with judicial proceed-
ings. I am, therefore, for
throwing out this bill." This
manly protest against legal
wrong-doing under cover of
constitutional methods was
almost the last public act of
the ex-Lord Chancellor.
Sei/ed with illness, largely
induced by his exertions in
op]M)sition to the (ioverument
policy, he retired to his house
in Hertfordshire, and there ex-
pired on October 10th, 1723.
In remarkable contrast
to the aristocratic and dignified
Cowper was Peter King, who
in 1725, on Lord Maccles-
Froman tnffraviiiy by f/oi
CKAKUa, LORD TALBOT,
Lori ch.nc.iior from i7ss to ITS:.
to the woolsack. 1 he career
Lord Chancellors — Famous and Infamous
445
of this great lawyer supplies
one of the most curious chapters
in the history of the Lord
Chancellorship. Born the son
of a grocer in Exeter, he spent
his early years in his father's
shop weighing out sugar and
tea, and performing the other
humble duties pertaining to a
small business in a country
town. Moved by a laudable
ambition, and inspired by the
example of Locke, the author
of the " Essay on Human Under-
standing," who was a kinsman
of his on the mother's side,
he determined to educate him-
self. All his spare pocket-
money went in the purchase of
books. Every hour he could
snatch from the irksome routine
duties of the shop he devoted
to study. The fruit of his
application was forthcoming
before he reached his twentieth
year in the shape of an elabor-
ate work on " The Constitution,
Discipline, .and Unity of the
Primitive Church." Locke, to
whom the treatise was submitted,
was greatly struck with the
erudition and ability displayed
by the young writer, and pleaded
with his father to train him for the law, to which his bent of mind was well adapted. The worthy
grocer yielded to the representations made to him. In due course the future Lord Chancellor was
packed off to Leyden, there to lay the foundations of a knowledge of men and things which was
destined to be of the utmost advantage to him ultimately. Returning to England, he was in
1700 elected member for Beer Alston in the House of Commons. Thenceforward his progress
was rapid. Assisted by a considerable portion of Locke's estate, which the philosopher had
bequeathed him on his death in 1704, lie went from one success to another, until in 1715 he
was appointed to the Chief Justiceship of the Common Pleas in succession to Lord Trevor. For
ten vears he filled this position with distinction, and then, on Lord Macclesfi eld's dismissal, he
was elevated to the woolsack with the title of Lord King of Ockham, in the county of Surrey.
As Lord Chancellor, Lord King was not a conspicuous success. The memory left of him is of
a shrewd, avaricious lawyer who subordinated principle to personal aggrandisement. But
whatever his moral shortcomings, his career will ever be cited as an example of what may be
done by perseverance and steady application when allied with great intellectual powers.
Lord King retained the Great Seal until 1733, when he resigned it to Lord Talbot. On
the death of that peer in the early part of 1737, the Lord Chancellorship devolved upon Baron
Hardwicke, one of the greatest of the many great men whose names are associated with this
splendid office. Campbell, in his " Lives of the Lord Chancellors," relates the curious circum-
stances under which the appointment was made. Though Hardwicke was marked out by his
PHILIP YORKE, MUST EAHL OP HAKDWICKE,
One of the moat famous of the Lord Chancellors. He held office for nearly twenty years —
from 1737 to 1756.
446
Parliament Past and Present
ROBKIIT. i.oitn HKXi.r.y.
I.nril Chancellor from 1757 to 1766.
commanding abilities for the woolsack, there wa*
>oine difficulty as to the terms on which lie war-
to In- appointed, and for a whole week the Great
Seal remained in the ](err-onal cu>tody of the
King. ".Meanwhile, as Parliament was sitting,
and there was no Lord Chancellor or Lord
Keeper, it was neee>sirv to provide a S|«-aker
for the House of Ixmls, and the Great Seal,
while in the Kind's j.o»ession, was (somewhat
irregularly) put to a commission authorising Lord
Hatdwicke to act in that capacity. He accordingly
did act for several days as Speaker without being
Cliancellor. During this interval it is related that
\Valpole, resisting some of Hardwicke's demand-.
said to him by way of threat, 'I must offer the
Seals to Fazakerly.' ' Fazakerly ! ' exclaimed Hard-
wieke. 'Impossible: he is certainly a Tory, perhaps
a Jacobite!' 'It is all very true.' replied Sir
Robert, taking out his watch; 'but if by one
o'clock you do not accept my offer. Fazakcrly
by two becomes Lord Keeper, and one of the
staunchest Whigs in all England.' The bargain
was immediately closed, and Lord Hardwicke was
contented with the promise that the next tellership should be bestowed upon his son."
For twenty years the Karl of Hardwicke, as he now became, brilliantly occupied the
woolsack. It is recorded of him that lie never had a decision reversed, and that only three
of his judgments were even appealed against. Lord Henley (Earl of Nbrthington) and Lord
Camden, whose names are next met with in the annals of the Lord Chancellorship, and who
between them held the Great Seal for thirteen years from 1757, were men of considerable
ability, but their careers merely call for jwissing mention here. A more picturesque, if less
attractive, figure than either is that of their successor on the woolsack, Lord Thurlow. About
the memory of this eminent lawyer more good stories cluster than are associated with any
other Jx>rd Chancellor. It is a tribute, perhaps, to the force of his character that the
anecdotage is mostly of the uncomplimentary description. Truth to tell, he was not loved
even by his political associates. His brusque, overbearing manners, his overweening sense of
his own importance, and. above all. his affectation of omniscience, all tended to make him
un{K>piilar. Campbell says of him that, although pretending to despise the opinion of others,
he was acting a part, and his aspect was more solemn and imposing than that of almost any
other pei>on in public life — so much so that Fox used to say, "It proved him dishonest, since
no man could be so wise as Thurlow looked." His oratorical style was not brilliant, but he
could on occasion reply with crushing effect to an opponent. One of the most remarkable
speeches he delivered was his celebrated reply to the Duke of Graft on during the inquiry
into I»rd Sandwich's admini.-t ration of Greenwich Hospital. The Duke had twitted Lord
Tlmrlow with his plebeian origin and with the recent origin of his title. This brought up the
I/ord Chancellor with his biggest guns. " He rose from the woolsack," says Butler in his
" Reminiscences," "and ad\anced slowly to the place whence the Chancellor generally addresses
the House; then fixing on the Duke the look of Jove when he grasps the thunder, 'I am
amazed,' he said in a level tone of voice, 'at the attack the noble Duke has made on me.
Yes, my lords ' — considerablv raising his voice — 'I am amazed at his Grace's speech. The noble
lord cannot look before him, behind him, and on either side of him, without seeing some
noble peer who owes his seat in this House to his successful exertions in the profession to
which I belong. Does he not feel that' it is as honourable to owe it to these as to being the
Lord Chancellors — Famous and Infamous
447
accident of an accident ? To all these noble lords the language of the noble Duke is as
applicable and as insulting as it is to myself. But I don't fear to meet it single and alone.
No one venerates the peerage more than I do ; but I must say, my lords, the peerage solicited
me, not I the peerage. Nay, more ; I can say, and I will say, that as a peer of Parliament,
as Speaker of this right honourable House, as Keeper of the Great Seal, as guardian of his
Majesty's conscience, as Lord High Chancellor of England, nay, even in that character alone
in which the noble Duke would think it an affront to be considered — as a man — I am at this
moment as respectable — I beg leave to add that I am at this time as much respected — as the
proudest peer I now look down upon.' The effect of this speech, both within the walls of
Parliament and out of them, was prodigious. It gave Lord Thurlow an ascendency in the
House which no Chancellor had ever possessed ; it invested him in public opinion with a
character of independence and honour ; and this, though he was ever on the unpopular side in
politics, made him always popular with the people."
Thurlow is seen in a very different light in another episode with which his name is
associated. The incident alluded to is the debate which took place in 1788 on the question
of the Uegency on the illness of George III. The Lord Chancellor intrigued impartially with
both parties over the matter, and then finally decided that his own interests lay on the King's
side. Accordingly, when on December llth, 1788, a motion was brought forward in the House
of Lords for the appointment of a Committee to search for precedents, he supported the
proposal in a fulsome speech,
concluding with these words:
"And when I forget my King
may my God forget me ! " " It
seems scarcely possible," says
Stanhope in his "Life of
Pitt," " to exaggerate the
strong impression which that
half-sentence made. Within
the House itself, perhaps, the
effect was not so satisfactory.
Wilkes, who was standing
under the throne, eyed the
Chancellor askance, and mut-
l-ered, 'God forget you? He
will see you d- d first.'
Burke at the same moment
exclaimed with equal wit and
with no profaneness, 'The
best thing that can happen
to you ! ' Pitt also was on
the steps of the throne. On
LordThurlow's imprecation he
is said to have rushed out of
the House exclaiming several
times, ' Oh ! what a rascal ! ' '
Associated with Lord
Thurlow's Lord Chancellorship
is the memorable theft of the
Great Seal, which at the time
it occurred caused almost
national perturbation, and
which even to this day has
From an engraving a/tei- the painting by Dance.
CHARLES PRATT, FIRST EARL CAMDEN,
Lord Chancellor from 1766 to 1VTO.
448
Parliament Past and Present
a leading place in the annals of crime. The offence was per|>etrated at Thurlow's house,
45, Great Orinond Street, by a jmrty of burglars, on the night of March 24th, ITS I. the
day l»'R>re the dissolution of Parliament. The thieves effected an entrance by scaling the
garden wall and forcing two bars out of the kitchen window. They broke open the drawers
of the l»rd Chancellor's writing table, annexed the Great Seal, and made oft' with it. When
the loss was discovered the official world was aghast, as, without the precious emblem. State
documents could not be pro]>erly prepared. Three days alter the theft, no trace of the tbie\e>
having been discovered, a reward of £200 was offered, with free pardon to an accomplice.
Subsequently the identity of the daring housebreakers wa< e>tahlished. but not until the ><-al.
which was of silver, had been reduced to common metal in the melting-pot. When this fact
had been established, a new Great Seal was ordered to be prei«ired. In the meantime |Nilitical
gossip was busy with the story, and it was even suggested that the Whigs had in>ti gated tin-
robbery to stave off the then impending dissolution. It is to this phase of the incident that
allusion is made in these well-known lines of The llnllinil : —
The rugged Tburlow, who, with sullen scowl,
In surly mood, at friend and foe will growl,
Of proud prerogative the stern support,
Defends the entrance of great George's Court
'(iainst factious Whigs, lest they who stole the seal
The i-ai'n-d diadem itself should steal;
So have I seen near village butcher's stall
(If tilings so great may be compared with small)
A mastiff guarding on a market il.-iy.
With snarling vigilance, his master's tray.
I n painting in the A'atiun'il /'...I.'"' ii'illay tiy T. Pkiltipi, H.A.
LOIIIl TIIOII.OW,
Ixird Chuimllor during Lord North'* Ailminirtrulion, and, l»Ur, during Pltt'i Minirtry.
lie rvtirwl in V.V2.
Since this awkward occurrence special
pains have been taken to guard the
Great Seal from predatory hands.
In the years immediately >uc-
ceeding I»rd Thurlow's tenure of
office we find as-ociated witli the
woolsack the eminent names of Ix>rd
Kldon and Lord Krskine. The former
was entrusted with the Great Seal
first in 1801 in Addington's Adminis-
tration. He retained it. with the
brief interregnum supplied by Lord
Grenville's Premiership, until 1826,
thus establishing a record of long
service in the office. George III.
showed a remarkable attachment to
the Lord Chancellor. Again and
again he extended to him marks of
his esteem. When Pitt died and
.Ministers resigned, Eldon waited on
his Koyal patron to surrender tin-
seals. " Lay them down on the sofa."
said the King, indicating the seals.
'•for I cannot and will not take them
from you. Vet I admit you cannot
stay when all the reM have run
awiiv.'1 In allusion to the monarch's
partiality Lord Kldon himself once
said, "I do not know what made
George III. so fond of me, but he
was fond of me. When I went to
him for the seals, he had his coat
buttoned at the lower part, and patting
Lord Chancellors — Famous and Infamous
449
his right hand within, he drew them
out from the left side, saying, ' I
give them to you from my heart.' "
Eldon made a dignified and popular
Lord' Chancellor. Such was the
influence that he acquired in the
office that when the Duke of Welling-
ton resigned over the Catholic
Emancipation question in 1829, he
was sent for by George IV. to form
a Ministry. After considering the
question for a time, he declined to
undertake the responsibility, and the
King thereupon gave way and the
Ministers were reinstated. He sur-
vived until January 13th, 1838, living
long enough to take the oath to
Queen Victoria.
Erskine's career belongs in the
main to the law. His selection as
Lord Chancellor was an accident,
and his acceptance of the office, for
which he was little fitted, was one
of the greatest mistakes of his life,
regarded from the standpoint of his
reputation. Still, his is a name
which lends an imperishable lustre
to the annals of the Chancellorship.
"The silver-tongued advocate,"
whose voice exercised a spell in the
Law Courts of a potency which had
never before been equalled and has never since been surpassed, he for a quarter of a century
filled a unique place in English judicial life. Singularly enough, his adoption of a legal career
was largely brought about by chance. His early youth was spent in the navy and the army
— a bad nursery, it might be supposed, for forensic talent. Laboriously he qualified himself for
the profession of arms, attaining to a more than common degree of proficiency. One day after
his promotion to a full lieutenancy in the King's Royals, he, to while away an idle hour,
dropped into an assize court where Lord Mansfield was presiding. This distinguished judge,
observing the elegant-looking young soldier in full regimentals, an evidently deeply interested
spectator of the proceedings, sent a message to him inviting him to a seat on the Bench.
Kr.-kine, of course, accepted the courtesy. Taking his seat by the side of the eminent jurist,
he was favoured as the trial progressed with the judge's private comments upon it. The
experience made such a vivid impression upon him that he forthwith determined to throw up
his commission and try his skill at the Bar. After a probationary period, during which he
underwent the direst straits, lie gained a foothold at the Bar at last. His opportunity came
ir> a romantic way. While tit a friend's house during the public discussion of the charges of
corruption brought against Lord Sandwich in connection with the administration of Greenwich
Hospital, he expressed v'ery forcibly his conviction of the substantial truth of the charges. One
of his auditors was Thomas Baillie, the person who was mainly responsible for the accusations.
Baillie, recognising in the ability and earnestness of the young lawyer invaluable qualities for
an advocate, sent him a brief for the defence in the proceedings for libel which were brought
against him. There were four other counsel in the case, and three of them urged compromise.
57
After the painting by Sir Thomas Latcrencc, P.H.A.
JOHN SCOTT, EABL OP ELDON,
Lord Chancellor from 1801 until 1806, and again from 1S07 until 1827.
450
Parliament Past and Present
Krskine. however, resolutely resisted
tin1 idea «f ooncenion. In the end
Ins views prevailed, ami lit' justified
them subsequently in a s|>eech of
niarvclliiiis cloijiience and dcclamatorv
power. According to his own :u-coiiiit.
he found courage in the thought that
his children were plucking at his gown
crying to him that now was the time to
get them bread. His impetuous ad-
vocacy completely turned the scales in
Haillie's favour. It was a great triumph
for the cause of purity of public life;
it was a still greater triumph for the
youthful and unknown barrister. From
that moment briefs flowed in UJHHI
him uninterruptedly, until his annual
income in 1791 reached the then un-
precedented figure of i.'10,0()0. Hi-
successes were due to his brilliancy
as an orator rather than to his ability
as a lawyer. Endowed with a fine
presence and engaging manners, he
can-fully cultivated the graces of stvle
until he was without a peer in West-
minster Hall for persuasive advocacy.
He owed much of the art of effec-
tive speaking which he practised with
such splendid success to Mrs. Siddons.
He once said that " he had studied her
cadences and intonation, and that to
the harmony of her periods and pronunciation he was indebted for his best displays."1
Magnificent as Erskine's powers were, they were not of the character to win immediate
success in the House of Commons. The coldly critical audience which he there had to face
had its own standards of oratory; it applied them at times with ruthless severity to the
discomfiture of Parliamentary novices who had come into the House with great reputations
made in other centres. In Erskine's case nothing certainly was taken on trust. His maiden
s[>eech, made on Fox's East India Hill, met with a reception which was ostentatiously
contemptuous. The scene is vividly described in Croly's ''Life of George IV.": "Pitt sat
evidently intending to reply, with pen and paper in his hand, prepared to catch the arguments
of this formidable adversary. He wrote a word or two: Erskine proceeded; but with everv
additional sentence Pitt's attention to the paper relaxed, his look became more careless, and he
obviously began to think the orator less and less worthy of his attention. At length, when
every eye in the House was fixed upon him. with a contemptuous smile he dashed the pen
through the paper and Hung them on the floor. Krskine never recovered from this expression
of disdain. His voice faltered, he struggled through the remainder of his speech and
sank into his seat dispirited and shorn of his fame." When, later. Pitt had to reply, he
emphasised the feeling with which lie regarded the speech. After announcing his intention to
reply to both Fox and Krskine he said, "Hut I shall make no mention of what was said by
the honourable gentleman who spoke last; he did no more than regularly repeat what was
said by the member who preceded him, and regularly weaken all he repeated." There is reason
1 Campbell's " Life of Siddons."
After th( portrait by Sir Jothua jifyno/t/*, F.K.A.
THOMAS, FIBST BAIIOX EKSKIXE, K.T.,
Lord Chancellor In the Coalition " Ministry of All the Talent* " under Grenville.
/•',.„„ //,. portrait ly Tltomat f/Mlipt, R.A., in the Rational Portrait Gall, rg.
JOHN SINGLETON COPLEY, BABON LYNDHUBST,
Lord Eldon's auccewor in the Lord Chancellorahip. He was thrice appointed to the office, and finally resigned in 1S46 on Peel's
retirement.
4.51
452
Parliament Past and Present
to think that Pitt's scornful unit ml.- was as unjust as it was unworthy of him in any
circumstances. \Vraxall plainly says as much in his •• Memoirs." An-nr«ling to him. Kr>kine.
so far from failing, as hi* enemies declared, appeared to exhibit "shining powers of declamation."
Whatever tin- truth may In-. 1'itt's recept ion of the fpeeeh appears to have made a deep and
lasting imprc.-Mon on Krskine. Surli was tin- a\vc which the Great Commoner inspired in
him. that on one occa-i"ii some years later, at a pulilie dinner, a ca.-ual remark from I'itt while
he was shaking >topped the flow of his oratory and compelled him to sit down in e.nit'iiMon.
Krskine. though a matchless advocate, had none of the qualitie- e— i-ntial to the highest
judicial office. There was. eonx <|iientlv. great .-urprise when, on the format i< m of the "Mini>try
of All the Talents." he was brought in to till the Lord Chancellorship. Ivimilly declared him
to be totally unlit for the situation. Others wen- even more <mts|K>ken; the appointment, in
fact, was universally condemned. Krskine during the short time that he held the (ireat Seal
had little opportunity of distinguishing himself, and it would be unfair to say that tin- harsh
judgment of his titness for the post pa-^ed by his contcm]>orarie> was justified. But it is a fact
that from the moment he entered office his reputation declined. After his resignation on
April 1st. 1K07, he gradually receded from the public eye. During the troubles arising out of
the charges brought agaiiot Queen Caroline he regained something of his old popularity by
his generous >peeches in defence of the Royal lady. But the recovery was only transient. He
passed the la>t years of his life in conqwirative obscurity and neglect.
Worthy to be a»»ciated with Kldon and Krskine in the list of famous Lord Chancellors
is John Singleton Copley. l/>rd Lyiidhurst, who, appointed Lord Chancellor first in 1827 in
Canning's Administration, occupied the woolsack continuously until the accession of Karl Grey
to the Premiership, and subsequently held the seals during Sir Robert Peel's two
Administrations. Lord Lyndhurst's career is not less remarkable than that of his two eminent
predecessors; in one respect it is more notable. In an age in which the Lord Chancellorship
was conspicuous for the longevity of those who filled it, he established almost a record for
virility of intellect. For close upon a half-century he was a leading figure in public life ; to
the last year of his life his. influence in political affairs was very marked. On February 7th,
1856, he delivered in the House of Lords a speech on the Life Peerages question, which
Campbell says "was the most won-
derful ever heard. It would have
been admirable for a man of thirty-
five, and for a man of eighty-four it
was miraculous." .More than three
years later, in July, 1859, Lynd-
hurst distinguished himself by
another great speech in the House
of Lords on the subject of our
continental relations, apropos of
the war then being waged in Italy
by France. His remarks were
characterised by a mental grip
and vigour and a boldness of con-
ception extraordinary in one who
\\a- almost a nonogencirian. "Self-
reliance," he said, " is the best
road to distinction in private life;
it is equally osential to the
character and grandeur of a nation.
It will be necessary for our defence
HKXRY r-KTKB, FIRST BAKox BBouGHAM AM> v u \. that we should have a military
I Chancellor In Karl Orey'. AdniluUtrati..n. force Sufficient tO COpC with any
Lord Chancellors — Famous and Infamous
453
SIR EDWARD BUHTEXSHAW SUGDEX, LORD ST. LEOXAKDS
Lord Chancellor for a few months in 1852.
Power or combination of Powers that may
be brought against us. The question of
the money expense sinks into insignifi-
cance. It is the price that we must pay
for our insurance, and it is but a moderate
price for so important an insurance. I
know that there are persons who will say,
' Let us run the risk.' Be it so ; but, my
lords, if the calamity should come, if the
conflagration should take place, what words
can describe the extent of the calamity, or
what imagination can paint the overwhelming
ruin that would fall upon us ? I shall be
told, perhaps, that these are the timid
counsels of old age. My lords, for myself,
I should run no risk. Personally, I have
nothing to fear. But to point out possible
peril, and how to guard effectively against
it, that is surely to be considered not as
timidity, but as the dictates of wisdom and
prudence. I have confined myself to facts
that cannot be disputed. I think I have con-
fined myself also to inferences which no man
can successfully contravene. I hope what
I have said has been in accordance with
your feelings and opinions. I shall termi-
nate what I have said in two emphatic words, Vce victis I — words of solemn and most
significant import." Even this inspiriting oration did not mark the last appearance of
the venerable ex-Lord Chancellor upon the political stage. He intervened in debate again
on May 21st, 1860, delivering a speech of singular power, having regard to his great age, on
the second reading of the bill for the repeal of the paper duty. His final effort was a
contribution to a discussion on a legal bill on May 7th, 1861. Though then closely verging
on ninety, this Nestor of the House of Lords, as he was called, spoke with unabated intellec-
tual force, and with a precision which extorted general admiration.
Perhaps the closest parallel to the career of Lord Lyndhurst is supplied by the life of
Ix>rd Brougham, his successor of 1830 on the woolsack. With the stormy early legal and
political life of this statesman we have already dealt in another chapter, and it is only necessary
here to say that when he succeeded to the Lord Chancellorship he had already behind him
a record of strenuous effort sufficient to fill an ordinary lifetime. Yet for more than thirty
years subsequently he was an active public man, and in 1863, when eighty-five, he was
sufficiently vigorous in body and mind to deliver, as President of the Social Science Congress,
an address at Edinburgh in which the progress of scientific effort was ably and exhaustively
surveyed.
As Lord Chancellor in the Grey Administration, Brougham was intimately associated with
the political proceedings which preceded the passing of the Keform Bill. It was he who
accompanied Grey on that memorable visit to William IV., in April, 1831, and who extorted
from the reluctant monarch the necessary authorisation for a dissolution of Parliament, with
a view to an appeal to the country on the Reform question. From the accounts which have
been published of that curious interview — perhaps the most remarkable that ever took place
between a British sovereign and his Ministers— we may gather that it was Brougham's bold
line of argument which turned the King from an attitude of resentful anger to one of good-
humoured if reluctant acquiescence. The Chancellor's services to the Ministry on this
454
Parliament Past and Present
occasion were rapplemented later by a vigor-
ou- iiiiil >u>tained defence of llic (ioverimient
position in the HOIIM- of I/ird-. His speech
on tin- >ci'u)nl reading of the second Reform
Hill in October. 18:51. was an exceptionally
In-illiant ctt'ort. Campbell gives u vivid
description of the onition in his work.
Brougham, he .-a\ s. "showed a mo>t stu-
pendous memory and extraordinary dexterity
in handling the weapons both of ridicule and
of reason. Without a note to refer to, he
went through all the .-peeche< of his opi>o-
nents delivered during the five night-' debate,
analysing them successively, and. with a little
aid from perversion, giving them all a
seemingly triumphant answer. The perora-
tion was partly inspired by draught- ..)
mulled port, inibil>ed by him very copiously
towards the conclusion of the four hours
during which he was on his legs or on his
knees. ' I pray and exhort you not to reject
this measure. By all you hold nio-t dear.
by all the ties that bind every one of us to
our common order and our common country.
I solemnly adjure you — I warn you — I
implore you — yea, on my bended knees (he
kneels) I supplicate you — reject not this bill.'
He continued for some time as if in prayer;
but his friends, alarmed for him lest he should
be suffering from the effects of the mulled
port, picked him up and placed him safely on the woolsack. Like Burke's famous dagger scene in
the House of Commons, this prostration was a failure; so unsuited was it to the spectators and
to the actor that it produced a sensation of ridicule, and considerably impaired the effect of a
speech displaying wonderful powers of memory and of intellect." There is a strong tinge of sen-
sationalism in this description, suggestive of an overcharged pen. Nevertheless, Brougham did un-
questionably on this occasion indulge in no common degree a weakness he had for theatrical effect.
Another of his foibles, a disposition to lx- vituperative, did not desert him when
he t«x>k his seat on the wool>ack. A flagrant instance in point is supplied in a speech
which he made in July, 1832, in reference to a motion brought forward in the House
of Commons by Sir Kdward Sngden (afterwards Lord St. Leonards) for an inquiry into matters
with which the Lord Chancellor was concerned. ''My lords," said Brougham, "we have
all read that it is this heaven-born thirst for information, and its invariable concomitants,
a self-disregarding and candid mind, that most distinguishes men from the lower animals, from
the crawling reptile, from the \\a-p that stings, and from the wasp that fain would but cannot
>ting; distinguishes us. my lords, not only from the insect that, crawls and stings, but from
that more jiowerful because more offensive creature, the bug, which, powerful and offensive a>
it is, is but vermin. Ye-. I say that it. is this laudable propensity upon which humanity
justly prides it-elf, which. 1 have no doubt, solely influenced the learned gentleman to whom
I allude to seek for information which it would be cruel to stingily gratify." The signal lack
of dignity, to say nothing of the gm>s off'ensiveiiess of this attack, explains to some extent the
rea-<m why I'rougham, with all his commanding talents, never secured a really high place in
popular estimation
From a jJ,ot,, l,:i Mnvll d: t'ojr.
SIB FRKDERIC TIIKSKiKK, LORD CHELMSFORD,
Lord Chancellor in 1S53, and again in IStiJ.
Lord Chancellors — Famous and Infamous
455
FI-OM an engraving after the picture by Sir F. Grant, P.R.A.
JOHN, LOED CAMPBELL,
Lord Chancellor from 1859 until 1861. He was the
author of " The Lives of the Lord Chancellors."
An episode which occurred in the House of
Lords in 1850 has a bearing upon this subject of
Brougham's personal failing, and it may be referred
to both on that account and because it throws an
amusing sidelight upon the relations of the party
leaders of the period. Speaking at a Mansion House
banquet in 1850, Lord Stanley alluded to Lord
Brougham (who was not present) as " his noble and
learned but somewhat volatile friend." The ex-Lord
Chancellor, nettled at the reference, brought the matter
up at the sitting of the House of Lords on the follow-
ing evening. He challenged Lord Stanley to explain
himself. " Volatile means flighty," he said ; " but I,
to answer a speech made in my presence, have never
flown to the House of Mayors." Stanley's reply was
characteristic. He expressed his regret that he had
caused disquietude to '' his noble and learned and
very grave and discreet friend," but at the same time
was not prepared to withdraw the epithet used on the
previous evening. " In point," said he, " of acuteness,
activity, rapidity, and pungency, sal-volatile is nothing when compared with my noble and
learned friend. You may put a stopper of glass or leather on that ethereal essence, but I defy
any human power, even that of my noble and learned friend himself, to put any stopper, either
of glass or leather or any other material, over the activity, ingenuity, or pungency of his
mind." To this Brougham replied in a similar
bantering strain, and the incident closed in
general good-humour. In his later years
Brougham was a greater force outside Parlia-
ment than in it ; but he retained, as we
have seen, the freshness of his faculties, and
pursued to the end of the chapter that
active career which had been his from his
earliest youth.
When we take leave of the era in
which Erskine, Eldon, Lyndhurst, and
Brougham adorned the woolsack, we come
upon the modern line of Lord Chancellors,
the great lawyers whose careers are more
or less familiar to the present generation.
It cannot be claimed, perhaps, that they
occupied so commanding a position in the
political world as the men who had gone
before them ; but in point of legal ability
and capacity for the office they filled, they
do not compare unfavourably with them.
Cottenham, Truro, St. Leonards, Chelmsford,
Campbell, Westbury, Cramvorth, Cairns,
Hatherley, Selborne, Herschell — these are
names which compose a list of lawyers of
varying degrees of ability; but, taken as a frOM u Pkoto by vault * FOX.
whole, they make up a body which confers RICHABD BETH ELL, LOHL> WESTBURY,
no discredit on the annals of the Lord Lord chancellor from isei until ises.
456
Parliament Past and Present
Chancellorship. Only in one instance is there tin- slightest cloud ii|x>n the n*|mtntii>n of
these modern I/>rd Chancellors. Tin- except i»n i- Mipplied by I/>rd West bury, who was Ix>rd
Chancellor in Lord I'aliiier.-ton's -ecoud Administration. Again>t this di>t ingni-hed man chai
of official irregularity were brought, and tin' Hoiir-e "1 Commons, mi July ;5rd, 18(io, passed by
177 votes to 163 a motion declaring that the L>rd Chancellor had been guilty of "a laxity
of practice and • want of caution in sanctioning the grant of retiring ]i<'iisions to jmblic officer*
over \vhn.-c heads gra\e charges are impending, and in filling up the vacancies made by
the retirement of Mich officers . . . and that such laxity and want of caution are highly repiv-
hciiMble. and calculated to throw discredit on the administration of the high offices of State."
A ceiiMire so severe could have only one effect. Lord West bury re-i^iied on the day
following the pas.-ing of the resolution, and his resignation was accepted. In announcing the
fact in the House of Lords, he said: "With regard to the opinion expressed by the House of
< 'ominous I do not propose to say a word. I am bound to accept the decision. I may.
however, express the hope that after an interval of time calmer thoughts will prevail, and a
more favourable view-
be taken of my con-
duct." The hope \v;is
not unjustified. !.'• -
viewing the circum-
stances which led up
to I^ord Westbury's
dismissal, away from
the prejudices of the
time, it is impossible
to deny that he was
harshly treated. That
there was no great
sympathy at the time
for the Lord Chan-
cellor is to be ac-
counted for by the
fact that his manners
were by no means
conciliatory. One
flagrant specimen of
his style is to be
found in an incident
which occurred in the House of Lords a few months before his downfall, and which excited
much indignation at the time amongst an influential section of the public. The occurrence
arose out of the then recent judgment of Convocation in the case of "Essays and Review.-."
Lord Houghton drew attention to this decision, and asked whether the law officers of the
< 'rown had been consulted as to the competency of Convocation to take the action they had
done. Lord Westbury replied in a speech which seemed to be designedly offensive. "There
were three modes," he said, "of dealing with Convocation when it is permitted to come into
action and transact real business. The first is, while they are harmlessly busy, to take no
notice of the proceedings; the second is, when they seem likely to get into mischief, to
prorogue and put an end to their proceedings; the third, when they have done something
clearly beyond their powers, is to bring them before a court of justice and punish them.''
Later on he spoke of the judgment as "a series of well-lubricated terms — a sentence so oily
and sai>onaceou8 that no one could grasp it." "Like an eel," he added, "it slips through the
fingers — it is simply nothing; and I am glad to tell my noble friend that it is literally no
sentence at all."
Tin: WOOLSACK.
The official seat of the Lord Cbnncellor in the House of Lords.
Lord Chancellors — Famous and Infamous
45:
A a. drawing by Gtorge Richmond, K.A., bypermitiion oj Grilhon't CTu6.
SIR HUGH MACCALJIONT CAIRNS, EARL CAIRNS,
Lord Chancellor in 1SOS and in 1S74.
from a drawing by George Richmond, R.A., by ptrmittion ofOrillim'i Club.
SIB BOUJJDEI.I, PALMKR, EARL OF SELBOBJJE,
Lord Chancellor from 1872 till 1874.
These observations were plainly
pointed at Bishop Samuel Wilber-
force, who was reputed to have
drafted the judgment, and whose
popular sobriquet of " Soapy Sam "
lent itself to the broad method of
sarcasm which Lord Westbury
adopted. Bishop Wilberforce was not
slow to resent the attack made upon
him and his order. He did so in
a speech of much severity. " If a
man has no respect for himself," he
exclaimed in a burst of indignation,
" he ought, at all events, to respect
the audience before which he speaks;
and when the highest representative
of the law in England in your
lordships' Court, upon a matter in-
volving the liberties of the subject
and the religion of the realm, and
all those high truths concerning
which this discus.-ion has arisen, can
think it fit to descend to ribaldry,
in which he knows he can safely
indulge, because those to whom he
addresses it will have too much
respect for their characters to answer
him in like sort,— I say that this
House has ground to complain of
having its character unnecessarily
injured in the sight of the people
of this land, by one occupying so
high a position within it. ... I
would rather subject myself, in the
presence of my countrymen and
your noble House, to any amount of
that invective and insinuation, and
all those arts of — I will not say
what part of the Bar of England —
of which we have seen something
to-night; I would, I repeat, rather
a thousand times incur it all than
to look back on my deathbed upon
myself as one of those who had not
striven for the truth of our Established
Church, and had not encountered,
because I was afraid personally of
the consequences, anything which the
maintenance of that truth might
entail." This high-minded protest
was very widely approved, even by
those who did not share the Bishop's
58
458
Parliament Past and Present
roM a photo by tltt London Ste;to»fopic Co., Ltd., Clttapsitlt,
SIR HAUDISGK CIFFAItl), KAKI, of HALSBURV,
Lord Chancellor 188J, 1SS«, and 1895.
from a photo by Ifault <i- Fox, Piccadilly.
SIR FARRAU IIERSC1IKM., I.nUI) IIERSCHELL,
Lord Chancellor 1830 and 1892.
views as to the Convocation judgment. The feeling was that Lord Westbury had signally
failed in his sj>eech to preserve the dignity of his high office, and had as signally shown his
incapacity to realise what was due to others also occupying an exalted position in the State.
In the most recent years the current of the Lord Chancellorship has run with almost
unbroken smoothness. Lord Herschell, who occupied the woolsack in Mr. Gladstone's
Administrations, was a sound lawyer, who cared a good deal more for the legal than for the
jwliticiil traditions of the high office; and Lord Halsbury, who has been Lord Chancellor in
the Unionist Administrations since 1895, has to a great extent followed in his footsteps. But
if the later history of the office has been in a political and picturesque sense uneventful, it
has not Ix-en without an element of impressiveness in the unvarying dignity and high-minded
devotion with which its duties have been discharged.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE VICTORIAN PARLIAMENTS.
SOME thirty-six hours after William IV. had breathed his last at Windsor on June 20th, 1837,
the House of Commons assembled to hear read the first address from the maiden upon whom
the destinies of the country had devolved. Eagerly expectant members crowded the benches
of the temporary structure which, pending the erection of the new Houses of Parliament,
served as a place of assembly. Soon Lord John Eussell, then Home Secretary, appeared at
the Bar with the precious missive, and over. the serried ranks swept the cry, "Hats off!"
followed by the measured admonition of the Speaker (Abercromby), " Members must be un-
covered." Instantly every head save one was bared. The apparent offender against etiquette
was Sir John Graham, a prominent and popular member who had sat for nearly twenty years
in the House. Angry glances were directed towards him by his fellows, and subsequently an
evening paper commented in scathing terms upon the want of loyalty shown. Stung by the
criticisms, Sir John Graham the next day entered upon a justification of his attitude, explaining
that he had conformed to the older,
and, as he thought, better, custom
of waiting until the initiatory word
"Kegina" or "Rex" was uttered be-
fore uncovering, thus marking in
more emphatic fashion the tribute of
respect. The Speaker acknowledged
the accuracy of this reading of the
rules, and thereafter the House passed
to the ordinary business.
In this curious little incident
we have an indication of the feelings
with which the Victorian era in
Parliament was entered upon.
Loyalty quickened at the thought
that after the lapse of more than a
century and a quarter a woman was
once more at the head of the nation ;
natural sentiments were awakened
by the spectacle which the previous
day had provided of a young girl
with regal bearing, yet withal
maidenly modesty, taking her place
at the head of the Council Board
at which had gathered the men who
had grown old in the service of the
State. Generally there was a desire,
in the presence of the new conditions
which had been created, to sink party
differences and co-operate for the ad-
vancement of the public weal. But
459
LORD JOHN RUSSELL.
One of the leading statesmen of the Victorian em.
460
Parliament Past and Present
auspiciously as tin- new n-iijii commenced, few. if any. of those who on tliat June day gathered
in the jmpular chaml>er could in their wildest imaginings liave pictured tlie remarkable j>e:-iod
in Parliamentary lif«> which was to run its course Ix-forc the So\er«-ii,'ii who-e me-»age they
had rei-eived with so nilleli respect was laid to rest in the Mutely mausoleum ;it l-'rogmore.
In trutli. the Victorian era in Parliament was one of the mo>t eventful, as |Militieally. perhaps,
it wa- the most iinprc»i\e. in the hi>tory of the Legislature. Commencing within a short
]>eriod after the country had thrown otV the shackles of u corrupt an<l outworn electoral s\>tem.
it witnessed the advancement of the people liv sueee>sive >tage> to a ]K»ition of supreme ]«>wcr.
Simultaneously it saw accom]ilisheil economic. Miciologieal, and educational changes of a \;i>t
and wide-reaching character, and it marked the development of the Empire from an inchoate
and feelile system into a ]>owerful, well-knit organisation.
lu their jM-rsonal character the earliest Parliaments of the late Queen's reign lacked
something of the lustre which had attached to the Legislature a half-century earlier, and which
was to distinguish it a half-century later. But if there was no Chatham, or Pitt, or Cunning
from a (ittoprapA >>> " H. II." (John Day It), puUMtd July, 1837.
••WK, THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND!"
A fufloni caricature ilium rating * familiar episode in the )xilitical career of Lord John Unwell.
to electrify a listening world by his oratory, and to dazzle an admiring country by his
statesmanship, the Mage was occupied by men who yet fill a verv respectable place in
history. Looking back, we find foremost in the ranks Sir Kobert Peel, still with the great e.-t
part of his career before him, but nevertheless in the enjoyment of a commanding reputation
as a Parliamentary leader. By his side is Stanley, "the Rupert of debate." >teadily adding to
his already great fame as a brilliant orator. On the opposite benches sit Lord John Ku-r-rll.
the hero of the battle of Keform. a statesman of great influence and untarnished honour, and
I»rd Palmerston, already qualified by successful tenure of office for the splendid position he was
subsequently to fill as the greatest of modern administrators of foreign affairs. Looming large
in the background is the familiar figure of Macaulay, an object of awed admiration to his
fellows, and farther away are visible the clear-cut, eager features of Gladstone, "the rising hope
of the stern, unbending Tories," and as yet nothing more. In "the other House" the Uuke
of Wellington is observable, still a notable jwlitical figure, albeit his com.-e of active states-
manship is nearly run. Confronting him are Earl (irey and Lord Brougham, both in a
political sense somewhat extinct volcanoes, while special attention is attracted by Lord Melbourne,
461
464
Parliament Past and Present
course of a > peed i in the House of Lords in 1841, "that it is her .Majesty's opinion that
the noble Viscount hns rendered her Maje-ty tin- greatest po-.»ible service, making her
acquainted with the in. «!•• ami jioliry of the government of the country, initiating her into
the laws and spirit of the Constitution. Independently of the performance of his duty as
the servant of her Majesty's Crown; teaching her. in short, to preside over the de-tinie>
of this great country."
Lord MelUmrne's chief henchman in the House of Commons at the time of the late
ijueen's accession was Lord John I\u>sell. a tru>ted and ]>opular leader, whose intimate
association with the pissing of the great Heform Act gave him a jwsition of great power in
the country. In the Jlou>e of Commons lie showed consummate qualities of leadership, fight in:,'
almost single-handed against a powerful combination. His appearance at this ]>eriod is
graphically sketched by Mr. Maddyn in his '"Chiefs of Parties" in the following passage :
•'His outward form was fmil and weakly; his countenance sicklied over with the effects of
ill-health and solitary self-communing ; his figure shrunken below the dimensions of ordinary
mankind; ids general air that of a meditative invalid. But within that feeble body was a
spirit that knew not how to cower, a brave heart that could pulsate vehemently with large
and heroical emotions, a soul that aspired to live nobly in a proud and right manly career.
His \nice was weak, his accent was mincing with affectation, his elocution broken, stammering
.and uncertain, save when in a few lucky moments his tongue seemed unloosed, and there
came rushing from his lips a burst of epigrammatic sentences — logical, eloquent, and terse,
and occasionally vivified by the fire of genius. Then would his right hand be convulsively
clenched, his head proudly thrown back, the outline of his face become rigid and drawn, and
the small form seem to dilate, while the cheeks would blanchen with moral excitement, as tin-
ecstasy of applauding partisans made the walls of the Senate ring with echoing cheers."
Though an ardent reformer, Lord John
was not disposed to lend any sanction to
the efforts that were then being made by
the advanced wing of his party to carry
still further the process of remodelling the
Constitution. A speech he made on the
very threshold of the new reign indicating
his views led to the application to him of
the familiar nickname of "Finality John."
'•Her Majesty's Ministers," he said, speaking
in June, 1837, in reference to the Keform
Act, "while they consider it a final measure,
do not intend that it should remain a
barren Act upon the Statute Book, but that
it should l>e followed up in such a manner
as would ennoble, invigorate, and enlarge
the institutions of the country." A good
many year* afterwards Lord John Knssell
availed himself of the opportunity provided
by a debate in the House of Commons to
explain that he had not used the phrase in
the sense imputed to him; but the sobriquet
had then got far too good a start to be re-
called. Almost to the day of his death it had
its place in the common political currency.
Lord John liu—cll's chief rivals at the
,! (A< jxu'nfift? dy CmnlAlfnd tt Ortay in tke Kational Portrait GaUtry.
THK DUKK 01 WKM.ISIJTOX. K .,:.. P8™** "f "'" "«•* Wlt1' Whicb W«' ««' MaUllg
on.0fthegre«t|)oiiticaii«Mi«nofu.ee1uiyVi(;iorUni«riod. "ere Sir Robert Peel and Mr. (afterwards
From a piclurt in Ihi National Portrait Galltrv. Paiit/ed in 1846, bvjohn Partridgt.
HENRY JOHN TEMPLE, THIRD VISCOUNT PALMERSTON, K.G
The mat Foremen MeontUT ud I lin« MluUter whow ntolutc foreign policy •tented tlnail Brluin to • bl(h podtloa In the UounofU o( Europe.
The Victorian Parliaments
465
Lord) Stanley. Both were Parlia-
mentarians of the highest capacity;
both had strongly marked personal
qualities which distinguished them
from him. Peel was a skilful de-
hater — strong, logical, and practical;
but his manner was cold and uncon-
ciliatory, and even when lie com-
manded the undivided allegiance
of the Conservative Party, he may
be said to have held his position by
force of character rather than by
ties of affection. Stanley had all
Peel's cleverness with the added
quality of brilliancy. Macaulay said
of him that " his knowledge of the
science of party defence resembles
an instinct," and the great writer
cited him as the sole instance of
an eminent debater who had not
made himself a master of his art
at the expense of his audience.
Professor Pryme, in this passage
from his " Autobiographic Recol-
lections," confirms and strengthens
this estimate : " I have heard Pitt,
Fox, and other great speakers, but
never any to equal Lord Derby,
when Mr. Stanley, for elegance
and sweetness of expression." Lord Lytton's description of Lord Stanley in his poem, The
Timon, may also be cited as a contemporary testimony to the statesman's genius : —
From an engraving after a drawing by George Richmond, R.A., by permission
of trillion's Club.
EDWARD STANLEY, FOURTEENTH EAEL OP DERBY,
" The Rupert of debate."
The brilliant cl.ief, irregularly great,
Frank, haughty, rash — the Knpert of debate —
Nor gout, nor to.l, his freshness can destroy,
And time still leaves all Eton in the boy.
First in the class and keenest in the ring,
He saps like Gladstone, and he fights like Spring.
Kv'n at the feast his pluck pervades the board,
And dauntless gamecocks symbolise their lord.
As where a-tilt at friend — if barred from foe —
He scours the ground and volunteers the blow ;
And, tired with conquest over Dan and Snob,
Plants a slight brasier on the nose of Bob.
Decorous Bob, too friendly to reprove,
Suggests fresh fighting in the next remove,
And prompts his chum, in hopes the vein to cool,
To the prim benches of the Upper School.
Yet who not listens with delighted smile
To the pure Saxon of that silver style ?
In the clear style a heart as clear is seen,
Prompt to the rash — revolting from the mean.
Stanley's powers were directed at the time of which we are writing to the delivery of
damaging attacks upon the Melbourne Ministry for their subservience to the Irish vote. The
fact that the Government was practically kept in power by O'Connell was scathingly denounced
by Stanley, and always amid approving cheers. In no instance was his invective more
successful than on one occasion when he quoted these lines from Shakespeare : —
But shall it be that you, that set the cruwn
Upon the head of this forgetful man.
And for his sake wear the detested blot
Of murderous subornation — shall it be
That you a world of curses undergo,
Being the agents or hase second means,
The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather?
Oh, pardon me that I descend so low
To show the line and the predicament
Wherein you range under this subtle king.
Shall it for shame be spoken in these days,
Or fill up chronicles in time to come,
That men of your nobility and power
Did 'gage them both in an unjust behalf
As both of you — God pardon it — have done ?
And shall it be, in more shame, further spoken
That you are fooled, discarded, and shook off
By him for whom these shames ye underwent ?
59
466
Parliament Past and Present
JOHN SIMil.KToX 1-OPI.KV. I.OIM) I.VN'OHf l:ST,
Lotd Chancellor nmlrr Canning in 1827, ami nulxequeiitly in the Ministry
of 1834 and th« Peel Ailuilnutration of 1841-W.
Quoting Shakes]>eare in the House of
Common* is a hazardous practice. I nit Stan-
ley had rightly gauged his audience. The
telling sentences of the national writer were
received with immense enthusiasm. They
were felt to hit off most aptly a situation
which, in the opinion of the Conservative
( >p] io-it inn. was degrading to the country.
On the Irish side there was a not unnatural
disposition shown to resent these and similar
attacks upon their association with the
Government. Probably the most remarkable
— certainly the most eloquent — retort which
was made was embodied in an oration of
Hiehard Ijilor Shell, a notable member of
O'Connell's party, to a speech of Lord
Lyndhurst's in the House of Lords in which
the Irish had been referred to as alien>.
"Where." asked Sheil. "was Arthur
Duke of Wellington when these words were
uttered? Methinks he would have started
up to disclaim them. The battles, sieges,
fortunes that he'd passed ought to have
come back upon him. He ought to have
remembered that from the earliest achieve-
ment in which he displayed that military
genius which has placed him foremost in the annals of modern warfare, down to the last and
surpassing combat which has made his name imperishable — from Assaye to Waterloo — the Irish
soldiers with whom 3'our armies were filled were the insepsirable auxiliaries to the glory
with which his unparalleled successes have been crowned. Whose were the athletic anus
that drove your bayonets at Vimiera through the phalanxes that never reeled in the shock of
war before? What desperate valour climbed the steeps and filled the moats of Kadajos? All,
all his victories should have rushed and crowded back upon his memory — Yimiera, Badajos,
Salamanca, Allmera, Toulouse, and, last of all, the greatest. Tell me, for you were there — I
appeal to the gallant soldier before me — (pointing to Sir Henry Hardinge)— who has. I know,
a generous heart in an intrepid breast — tell me, for you must needs remember on that day
when the destinies of mankind were trembling in the balance, while death fell in showers upon
them ; when the artillery of France, levelled with the precision of the most deadly science,
played upon them ; when her legions, incited by the voice, inspired by the example of their
mighty leader, rushed again and again to the contest; — tell me if for an instant (when to
hesitate for an instant was to be lost) the 'aliens' blanched? And when, at length, the moment
for the last decisive movement had arrived ; when the valour, so long wisely checked, was at la>t
let loose; when with words familiar but immortal the great captain exclaimed, • Up, Lids, and
at them!" — tell me if Catholic Ireland with less heroic valour than the natives of your own
glorious isle precipitated itself upon the foe? The blood of England, Scotland, and Ireland
flowed in the same stream on the same field ; when the chill morning dawned their dead lay
cold and stark together; in the same deep pit their bodies were deposited; the green arm of
spring is now breaking on their commingled dust; the dew falls from heaven upon their union
in the grave. Partakers in every peril, in the glory shall we not part icij tat e ? And shall we be
told, as a requital, that we are estranged from the noble country for whose salvation our life-blood
was jjoured out ? "
A great effect was produced by this pure piece of oratory. The passionate vehemence of
The Victorian Parliaments
467
the speaker, and the mournful music of his voice, says Francis in his " Orators of the Age,"
were a living echo to the deep emotions with which his soul seemed charged.
Far superior to Sheil in political talents, though greatly his inferior in oratory, was his
leader, Daniel O'Connell. This remarkable man occupied a position in Parliament the like of
which had never been filled by any politician who had not held office. As we have seen, his
was the power behind the throne during the continuance of the Melbourne Ministry. So well
drilled were his legions, so completely were Ministries at his mercy, that he could at any time
have displaced them if it had suited his interests. His qualities appealed rather to the crowd
than to a critical audience such as he had to face at Westminster ; yet he filled a great place
there quite apart from the prestige which belonged to him as a powerful political leader,
capable of making and unmaking ministries. It is difficult to analyse the elements of his
strength ; but it may be affirmed with some degree of certainty that a racy gift of native
humour, coupled with a bland indifference to externals, which his enemies called impudence,
went a long way towards building up his great reputation. His wit was never more effectively
employed than in gibbeting a political opponent in verse, as he was in the habit of doing, to
the delight of the House. One of the best remembered and most telling of his parodies was
the following one on three well-known members, Colonels Sibthorp, Perceval, and Verner, who
had attracted his malicious shafts by
their political action: — &£K^,
Three colonels in three distant counties born,
Lincoln, Armagh, and Sligo did adorn;
The first in matchless impudence surpassed,
The next in bigotry, in both the last.
The force of Nature could no further go —
To beard the third she shaved the other two.
The point of the humour lies in
the fact that while Perceval and
Verner stood in little need of a
razor, Sibthorp was bearded like a
pard. Another amusing incident of
which O'Connell was the hero was
a genial attack on the spur of the
moment on Walter, the proprietor
of the Times. This gentleman was
one of the small band of politicians,
headed by Lord Stanley, who on
Lord Melbourne's accession to power
in 1835 formed what was styled the
" Neutral " party. The ranks of the
party were rapidly depleted as
the session wore on, and at length
only a few of the original members,
Walter being amongst the number,
were left, as it were, sitting on the
fence. O'Connell one evening, in
the course of a debate on the second
reading of the Irish Church Bill,
made allusion to this fact. Looking
on the Ministerial side of the House ^^ ^ ^ ^^
and not seeing Walter there, he was BENJAMIN DISRAELI, EARL OF BEACONSFIELD, K.G.
about to express his regret that he A famolu p^lt of the great .tate.n,an, representing him as the youthful author of
was not in the House, when on " Vivian Grey."
468
Parliament Past and Present
casting his eye on the Opposition side, he observed him sitting in the midst of his " Neutral "
friends, on which he exclaimed, in Ins own inimitable style: "Oh, the honourable member has
also gone over ! While sitting by himself on this (the Ministerial) side of the House, he was
like 'the last rose of summer' (shouts of laughter) —
Like the laxt roue of summer left blooming alone,
All iU lovely companions being faded and gone."
"It is impossible," says Mr. Grant, who describes the incident, "to convey any idea of the
effect which this produced. Mr. Walter's j>ersonal friends could not refrain from joining in
the loud |H-:ils of laughter which burst from all parts of the House, and even he himself
enjoyed the harmless but happy raillery."
O'Connell added to his wit a pretty gift of vituperative retort. When attacked in 1837
by Disraeli, whose earlier candidature for High Wycombe in 1832 he had supported, he
asserted of his opponent that "he jiossesses just the qualities of the impenitent thief who
died upon the cross, whose name 1 verily believe must Imve been Disraeli.'* Incensed at the
language, Disraeli sent a challenge to the Dictator's son, calling upon him to perform "the
vicarious duty of yielding satisfaction for the in-iilts which your father has too long lavMied
with impunity on his political opponents"; but the latter declined the meeting. O'Connell's
coarse invective got him into constant hot water in the House. One outbreak in the early
I-art of 1838 drew down upon him the formal censure of the Sjieaker. At a public meeting
in Ireland held at this period the Liberator had inveighed with unrestrained violence against
the action of election com-
mittees. asserting that Un-
well-ascertained choice of
important constituencies was
often set at naught by com-
mittee decisions flagrantly
irreconcilable with a due
observance of that judiciou-
itnpartiiility to which the
individuals composing thc»e
committees were sworn at
the table of the House. The
use of the phrase " perjured "
in speaking of the committee
gave an additional element
of offensiveness to the attack,
and supplied the motive force
for the proceedings which
were taken to vindicate their
offended honour. After an
animated debate the HOUM-
decided by an overwhelming
majority that O'Connell had
grievously overstepped the
bounds of moderation, and
merited and should receive
the severe reprimand of the
Chair.
The manner in which
the rebuke was cidministered
is entertainingly described
ill a letter by Disraeli to
O'COXXELL.
("Th. Liberator "Mbelwder of the Irish party in the early Victorian P»rlUm«nt».
The Victorian Parliaments
469
Reproduced by pirmixxioti of the Art C>tion of London from their Ittrye ptate of thf picture by DaitUl Maclim, It. A,
QUEEN ELIZABETH AT TILBURY FORT.
One of a series of paintings designed for the decoration of the new Houses of Parliament.
his sister, written on March 1st, 1838. "Yesterday," says the vivacious chronicler, whose
narrative was doubtless coloured by his not unnatural antipathy to the Irish leader,
" O'Connell received his reprimand in one of the most crowded Houses I remember. He
entered about 4'30, during the transaction of private business, with his usual air of bustle
and indifference ; but it was very obvious that his demeanour was affected, as he was so
restless that he did not keep in his place for two minutes together. At five o'clock the
business commenced. The Speaker inquired whether O'Connell was in attendance, upon which
O'Connell announced : ' Yes, sir,' but did not rise. The Speaker, who wore his three-cornered
hat, then said: 'Sir, you must stand up.' This rather dashed Dan, who began to feel uneasy,
as was very evident, standing like a culprit before several hundred individuals sitting. After
all, it is a moral pillory, and I am much mistaken whether Dan did not suffer acutely. The
reprimand, considering the politics and physical and intellectual qualities of the reprimanded,
was not ineffective. Dan stood like a penitent for a few minutes, then affected to look at
some papers, and almost as quickly resumed his attention to the Chair, as if he feared the
House would notice his indifference. Then he dropped the paper ; then he took it up ; then
listened again ; then took out his spectacles, wiped them, and did not put them on. At last
470
Parliament Past and Present
THOMAS ISAIlIMiTiiN. I.CIKD M AC -VI I. AY.
A |x>rtrmit of the hUturian when making hU way in Parliament,
it was finished, when he rose and made n
very ruffianly acknowledgment ; and here the
SjH-aker quite failed, as he ought not to
have permitted it."
O'Connrll's son. John, gives, in his
•• Kc -collections of a Parliamentary Career," a
picture of tin- scene painted from the Irish
staii(l]i<>int. He states that his father, in
concluding what Disraeli terms his " ruffianly
acknowledgment)" said : •• I have repented of
nothing, I have retracted nothing. 1 repeat
what I have said : I only wish I could find
terms less offensive in themselves and equally
significant. I am bound to re-assert what
I have said, for I am convinced of nothing
by a vote." "There was, of course," says
John O'Connell, "a terrible outcry at this
'malignancy,' and the whole business would
doubtless have had to be done over again —
indictment, defence, reprimand and all — had
not so many other members started up and
expressed in pretty unequivocal terms their
coincidence with Mr. O'Connell's view of the
case, that still greater ridicule would have
fallen upon the elaborate process by which so doubtful a vindication of decisions which, in
spite of all the efforts of party, were held by the public mind to be very doubtful in them-
selves, were to be affected."
Notwithstanding his faults of taste and temper, O'Connell occupied a position of great
influence in the House by virtue of his extraordinary talents. Mr. James Grant, in the
work previously referred to, gives a glowing description of his remarkable debating powers,
assigning him a position in this respect above that of any of his compeers. "O'Connell's
genius," he said, '• ever and anon bursts forth with a brilliancy and effect which are quite
overwhelming. You have not well recovered from the overpowering surprise and admiration
caused by one of his brilliant effusions when another flashes upon you and produces the
same effect. You have no time, nor are you in a position, to weigh the force of his
arguments; you are taken captive wherever the speaker chooses to lead you, from beginning
to end." "One of the most -extraordinary qualities of O'Connell's oratory," adds Mr. (irant,
"is the ease and facility with which he can make a transition from one quality to another.
I have seen him begin his speech by alluding to topics of an affecting nature, in such a
manner as to excite the deepest sympathy towards the sufferers in the mind of the most
unfeeling person present. I have seen, in other words, the tear glistening in the eyes of men
altogether unused to the melting mood, and in a moment afterwards, by a transition from the
grave to the humorous, 1 have seen the whole audience convulsed with laughter. On the
other hand, I have often heard him commence his speech in a strain of the most exquisite
humour, and by a sudden transition to deep pathos produce the stillness of death in a place
in which but one moment before the air was rent with shouts of laughter."
For several years in the early part of the late Queen's reign, O'Connell continued to fill
the Parliamentary and political stage more or less completely. He was one of a half-dozen
men in the House who could always command an attentive hearing whatever the occasion of
his intervention in debate. A life of strenuous lalxmr in the domain of agitation eventually,
however, told on his giant frame. Karly in 1846 he fell into such ill-health that he found
it difficult to discharge his political duties. His last speech in the House of Commons was
The Victorian Parliaments
471
delivered on April 3rd, 1846, under pathetic circumstances, well described by Disraeli in his
" Life of Bentinck." The occasion was the adjourned debate on the Irish Coercion Bill. Speaking
from the place usually occupied by the Leader of the Opposition, O'Connell submitted an
amendment to the motion before the House. " His appearance was of great debility, and the
tones of his voice were very still. His words, indeed, only reached those who were immediately
around him and the Ministers sitting on the other side of the green table and listening with
that interest and respectful attention which became the occasion. It was a strange and
touching spectacle to those who remembered the form of colossal energy and the clear and
thrilling tones that had once startled, disturbed, and controlled senates. Mr. O'Connell was
on his legs for nearly two hours, assisted occasionally in the management of his documents by
some devoted aide-de-camp. To the House generally it was a performance in dumb show,
a feeble old man muttering before a table ; but respect for the great Parliamentary personage
kept all as orderly as if the fortunes of a party hung upon his rhetoric; and though not an
accent reached the gallery, means were taken that next morning the country should not lose
the last and not the least interesting
of the speeches of one who has so long
occupied and agitated the mind of
nations." O'Connell lingered on until
the following year, but he never again
essayed to address the House.
A genius of a widely different type
to O'Connell who also figured prominently
in Parliament at this period was
Macaulay, to whom brief reference has
already been made. The historian, who
did nothing by halves, from the outset
of his Parliamentary career made up
his mind to create a great reputation
for himself as a debater ; and he
brilliantly succeeded in accomplishing
his design. His maiden speech, delivered
in 1830 on the Jewish Disabilities
question, according to Mr. Grant,
"electrified the House and called forth
the highest compliments to the speaker
from men of all parties." It was
followed up the next year by a series
of masterly contributions to the debates
on the Eeform question. Jeffreys, his
famous colleague on the Edinburgh
Revieiv, after hearing one of these wrote
to Lord Cockburn expressing the opinion
that the utterance put Macaulay " at
the head of the great speakers, if not
the great debaters, of the House." This
nattering estimate was confirmed and
upheld by subsequent experience. The
historian supplied in his person a
striking refutation of the commonly
accepted theory that a man who was
a great writer could not be also a great THOMAS BABINGTOX, LORD MACAULAY.
orator and statesman. He owed his The historian m late. life.
472
Parliament Past and Present
Parliamentary triumph*, there can be no doubt, to that immense capacity for taking
which built up his splendid literary reputation. His speeches were prepared with the utmo-t
care and committed t.. memory. They were adorned with every literary grace, and when
delivered had all the charm which characterises his writings. If inMead of succumbing to the
hlandi.-hmcnts of a lucrative and dignified official career in India he had followed his political
bent, alinoM any jM.sition short of the highe^ might eventually have been his. As things
Men- he left ii great name iii the annals of Parliament, but he was never absolutely in the
front rank.
Manv are the descriptions in contemporary political literature of .Macaulay's peculiar style of
breathless c.ratorr. The most graphic is. perhaps, that contained in the following sketch Mipplicd
in Francis's " Orators of the Age " : " Seated, he folds his arms and sits in silence, seldom
s|N>aking to his colleagues or appearing to notice what is going forward. An opening is
made in the discussion, and he rises, or rather darts up from his seat, plunging at once into
the verv heart of his subject, without exordium or apologetic preface. In fact, you have for
a few seconds heard a voice, pitched in alto, monotonous and rather shrill, pouring forth words
with inconceivable velocity, ere you, have become aware that a new speaker, and one of no common
order, has broken in ujxm the debate. A few seconds more, and cheers— perhaps from all
parts of the House — rouse you from your apathy, compelling you to follow that extremely
voluble and not very enticing voice in its rapid course through the subject on which the
speaker is entering, with a resolute determination, it seems, never to pause. You think of an
express train that does not stop even at the chief stations. On, on, he speeds, in full reliance
on his own momentum, never stopping for words, never stopping for thoughts, never halting
for an instant, even to take breath— his intellect gathering new vigour as he proceeds, hauling
the subject after him, and all its possible attributes and illustrations with the strength of a
giant-, leaving a line of light on the pathway his mind has trod, till, unexhausted and
«p|Hirently inexhaustible, he brings this remarkable effort to a close by a peroration so highly
sustained in its declamatory power, so abounding in illustration, so admirably framed to crown
and clench the whole oration, that surprise, even if it has begun to wear off, kindles anew,
and the hearer is left utterly prostrate and powerless by the whirlwind of ideas and emotions
that has swept over him."
Macaulay showed in his oratory that happy gift which so conspicuously distinguishes his
writings of making a subject interesting by allusion
and anecdote. Indeed, there is a striking resemblance
of thought and construction between the two. As
Francis puts it, " His speeches read like essays, as
his essays read like speeches." An excellent example
of his oratorical style is furnished by a speech he
delivered in February, 1845, on the new tariff scheme
introduced by Sir Robert Peel, by which, while
abxilutely prohibitory duties were imposed on foreign
sugar manufactured by slave labour, raw sugar of
similar origin was admitted free. The casuistical
distinction was seized hold of by Macaulay for
attack. His method was anecdotal. "I remember,"
said the eminent historian, "something very like
the honourable gentleman's morality in a Spanish
novel which I read long ago. I beg pardon of the
House for detaining them with such a trifle, but
the story is much to the purixw. A wandering
lad, a sort of (iil Hlas, is taken into the service of
MH THOMAS NOON TAI.Foritl). . .
j«i8.,«»yw,.ndd»,u»ti.t;«he,,riKiM,.,r .,,„„».„«. in a rlch old silversMut I,, a most pious man, who is
p»rii«meot for th« •ecnrity of iiumrjr copyright, always telling his beads, who hears mass daily, and
The Victorian Parliaments
473
observes the feasts and fasts of the
Church with the utmost scrupulosity.
The silversmith is always preaching
honesty and piety. ' Never,' he con-
stantly repeats to his young assistant
— ' never touch what is not your
own ; never take liberties with sacred
things.' Sacrilege, as uniting theft
with profaneness, is the sin of which
he has the deepest horror. One day
while he is lecturing after his usual
fashion an ill-looking fellow comes
into the shop with a sack under his
arm. ' Will you buy these ? ' says
the visitor, and produces from the
sack some church plate and a rich
silver crucifix. ' Buy them ! ' savs
the pious man. ' No, nor touch
them — not for the world. I know
where you got them. Wretch that
you are, have you no care for your
soul ? ' ' Well, 'then,' says the thief,
' if you will not buy them, will you
melt them down for me ? ' ' Melt
them down?' answers the silversmith ;
'that is quite 'another matter.' He
takes the chalices and the crucifix
with a pair of tongs ; the silver thus
in bond is dropped into the crucible,
melted, and delivered to the thief,
who pays down five pistoles and
decamps with his booty. The young servant stares at this strange scene ; but the master very
gravely resumes his lecture. 'My son,' he says, 'take warning by that sacrilegious knave, and
take example by me. Think what a load of guilt lies on his conscience! You will see him
hanged before long. But as to me, you saw that I would not touch the stolen property. I
keep these tongs for such occasions, and thus I thrive in the fear of God, and manage to turn
an honest penny.' " The House laughed hugely at Macaulay's whimsical story, and even Peel's
severe features relaxed as its application to the subject-matter of the debate became obvious.
To Macaulay belongs the rare honour of having made a speech which turned the balance
of voting in the House. The occasion was the second reading of Lord Mahon's Copyright
Bill, introduced in the session of 1842. In this measure it was sought to extend > the copyright
of a book to a period twenty-five years after the death of an author. Macaulay, who in the
previous session had successfully opposed a similar bill introduced by Serjeant Talfourd, brought
forward an alternative scheme giving protection for forty-two years reckoned from the date
of publication. His speech in elucidation of his .plan was, as his biographer remarks, "as
amusing as an essay of Elia, and as convincing as a proof of Euclid." With a wealth of
illustration drawn from his well-stored mind he showed that the effect of the bill, if carried,
would be to give prolonged protection to some of the worst works of an author, and to afford
inadequate protection to the best. On the other hand, his own proposal, if adopted, he
maintained would ensure protection to the most valuable of an author's works. " To Lear,
to Macbeth, to Othello, to The Faery Queen, to Paradise Lost, to Bacon's ' Novum Organum '
and ' De Augmentis,' to Locke's ' Essay on the Human Understanding,' to Clarendon's ' History/
60
the paiiitiny by $ir T. Lawrence,. P. 11. A. .
SIR ROBERT PEEL, BART.
A famous portrait of the great statesman.
474
Parliament Past and Present
to llmii<-'> -Hi-tory.' to Gibbon's 'History,'
to Smith's -Wealth of Nations,' to Addison's
Spectator, to almost all the great works of
Burke, to 'Clarissa* and 'Sir Charles
Grandison,' to -.los.-i.li Andrews.' 'Tom Jones,'
and 'Amelia,' and, with the single exception
of • Waverley,' to all the novels of Sir
\Vulti-r Scott, I give a longer term of
copyright than my noble friend gives. Can
he match that list ? Does not that list
contain what England has produced great e>t
in many various ways — poetry, philosophy.
history, eloquence, wit, skilful i>ort rait lire of
life and manners? I confidently, therefore,
call on the Committee to take my plan in
preference to the plan of my noble friend."
The speech made a marked impulsion on
the House. At its conclusion Sir Robert Peel
walked across the floor and assured Macaulay
that it had radically altered his views on
the subject. Other important members
made a like confession. In fact, it was
clearly demonstrated that the closely reasoned
arguments of the historian had profoundly
altered the situation as it existed at the
commencement of the debate. In the result
Macaulay's plan was adopted substantially
without modification, and "he enjoyed the
satisfaction of having framed, according to his
mind, a statute which may fairly be described
as the charter of his craft, and of having
added to Hansard what are by common consent allowed to be among its most readable pages."1
Another of Macaulay's speeches of this period which won even greater celebrity was his
criticism of the Maynooth Grant on the second reading of the measure introduced by Sir
Robert Peel in 1845. "Was such a feat of legislation ever seen?" asked Macaulay. "And
can we wonder that the eager, honest, hot-headed Protestants, who raised you to power in the
confident hope that you would curtail the privileges of the Roman Catholics, should stare and
grumble when you propose to give public money to the Roman Catholics? Can we wonder
that, from one end of the country to the other, everything should be ferment and uproar,
that petitions should night after night whiten all our benches like a snowstorm? Can we
wonder that the people out of doors should be exasperated by seeing the very men who, when
we were in office, voted against the old grant to Maynooth, now pushed and pulled into the
House by your whippers-in to vote for an increased grant? The natural consequences follow.
All those fierce spirits whom you halloed on to harass us now turn round and begin to worry
you. The Orangeman raises his war-whoop ; Exeter Hall sets up its bray ; Mr. Macneile shudders
to see. more costlv dress than ever provided for the priests of Baal at the table of the Queen ;
and the Protestant operatives of Dublin call for impeachments in exceedingly bad English.
But what did you expect? Did you think when, to serve your turn, you call the Devil up,
that it was as easy to lay him as to rawe him."
Macaulay's otitsjKiken utterances on this occasion had far-reaching results for him personally.
His phrase, "The bray of Exeter Hall," caused deep offence to his constituents, and it was one
1 Trevclyan's " Life of Maonulay."
From a vuszitixt ajttr the painting by HVfium llnuUty.
TIIK RIGHT HUN. W. K. GLADSTONE.
An early jwrtrait of the great Liberal •talesman, painted in 1845, while
M.P. for Newark.
The Victorian Parliaments
475
of the contributory causes, if not, indeed, the chief, which brought about his defeat at Edinburgh
in 1847. There was a likelihood at the time that the rebuff, so humiliating to one of Macaulay's
proud nature, would have led to his complete retirement from political life. But five years
later the Edinburgh people voluntarily undertaking to make amends for their previous harsh
conduct, the historian stood again and was returned at the. head of the poll. During the few
remaining years of his Parliamentary life he made some notable contributions to debates in
the House. What he himself regards as his "very best speech" was one delivered in 1853
on the factory question. In this he made effective use of the analogy of the Sunday to defend
the principle of regulating the hours of labour. "Man." he said — "man is the great instrument
that produces wealth. The natural difference between Campania and Spitsbergen is trifling
when compared with the difference between a country inhabited by men full of bodily and
mental vigour and a country inhabited by men sunk in bodily and mental decrepitude.
Therefore it is that we are not poorer, but richer, because we have rested from our labour one
day in seven. That day is not lost. While industry is suspended, while the plough lies in
the furrow, while the Exchange is silent, while no smoke ascends from the factory, a process
is going on quite as important to the wealth of nations as any process which is performed
on more busy days. Man, the machine of machines, the machine compared with which all
the contrivances of the Watts and the Arkwrights are worthless, is repairing and winding up,
so that he returns to his labours on the Monday with clever intellect, with livelier spirits, with
renewed corporal vigour. Never will I believe that what makes a population stronger, and
healthier, and wiser, and better, can ultimately make it poorer. You try to frighten us by
telling us that in some German factories the young work seventeen hour's in the twenty-four ;
that they work so hard that among thousands there is not one who grows to such a stature
that he can be admitted into
the army; and you ask
whether, if we pass this bill,
we can possibly hold our own
against such competition as
this. Sir, I laugh at the
thought of such competition.
If ever we are forced to yield
the foremost place among
commercial nations, we shall
yield it, not to a race of
degenerate dwarfs, but to some
people pre-eminently vigorous
in body and mind."
Though Macaulay had in
a marked degree what is
familiarly known as " the ear
of the House," he never com-
manded that power over its
emotions which was wielded by
its greatest orators. Members
listened to him with eager
attention, and occasionally, as
in the case of the copyright
speech, deferred to his views ;
but they were hardly stirred
by him. Francis, in his dis-
criminating sketch, attributes
this partial failure to Macaulay's
HENKY JOHN TEMPLE, THIRD VISCOUNT PALMERSTON, K.G.
One of the greatest of Queen Victoria's Prime Ministers.
476
Parliament Past and Present
••imetcnite habit of preparing hi- s] ..•<•!..-. I-MII to tin- very words antl plua-es. and < .untiiiM i:ig
tin-in to iiii-iinii\ long In-fore tin- liour of dclhery." Some opinion- of members of the I'n— •
(iallcry. cited by Sir lii-orge Tic\el\an. strengthen the \ic\v that undue elalioration diminished
th«- oratorical effcctivene— ut" tin- great man's utterances, anil though the biographer endeavours
with some suc.-e-- to show that there wa< considerably Ie-> of preparation than I he world
Mi|i|NtMfl. it i> iin<|iie>tioiiahle that tlie prevailing impression created was that of a lack of
.-| ontaiicitv and earnestness in his vigorous rhetoric. When, however, the wor-t lias liecn -iid
of tlii' >i chc-. they will remain with liurke's orations amongst the inoht fascinat ing contiihu-
tions to the store of Parliamentary erudition.
('oiitein|ioraneouslv with the 1'arliamentr.ry expei iences of Macaulay was juissed the |x>litical
a]»|irpnticeshi]i of one who. liavintj ina«l«- a yrcat rejuitation in the domain of literature, \\.i- i,,
achieve an even more illustrious position in the field of state>man>hip. It scarc-i-ly needs to lx-
Mati-«l that the reference is to Itenjamin Disraeli. Of all the strange figures which tlit across
the >taif»- at Westminster his, jierhaps. is the straiiye-t and most romantic. Jewish hy birth —
an alien, as hi- political enemies were too- prone to call him — destitute of the family connection!
which had U-en the dower of many groat statesmen of an earlier day. with strong prejudice- to
fiifht ai,'aiu-t and bitter rivalries and jealou>ie> to overcome, he with a steadfa.-tne» of ]iiir|x)sc
and a ]Hilitical prescience which amounted almost to an inspiration forced his way to the
topmost runt,' of the ladder of fame, leaving Ix-hind him linally a name which ranks with the
in Parliamentary history.
An oft-told but ever-engrossing tale is that of Disraeli's first «i>eeeh in the lloii-e of
Commons. Young and politically
inexperienced, but with a confident
belief in his own jxiwers. In-
bad taken his scat on the opening
of the first Parliament of C^uei-n
Victoria on November Uoth. 1S:>7. as
member for Maidstone. His fame as
a no\pelist had then been established
beyond the power of detraction, but
s\\eet as the incense of literaiy sue.
was. it did not satisfy his ambitious
nature. Political distinction was tin-
goal of his aspirations, as perhaps it
had ever been from the time he had
reached manhood. \Vitli ill-concealed
impatience he waited the ojiportunity
of making an effective ili'lmt. It
came, or he thought it did, on
December 7th. in a debate on a
question arising out of some Irish
election petitions. Karlier there had
been a sharp passage of arms between
Sir Francis Piiirdett and O'Connell.
The former had accused the Liberator
of encouraging assassination, and said
that then' were many people then
living in Ireland under a s\>tem of
terrorism "more powerful and terrible
than that which existed under Robes-
pierre in France." Not to lie outdone
in vituperation, O'Connell, after
GKOKUK HAMILTON cnltlioN, 1, ,1'UTII KAItl. OK Al!i:i:lii:].\. -,v.O.,
FonifB S.CTTUI7 In \m undo- th. Dnkt of Wrllingtnn.' and a«ain in 1841 und«r Sir
Hobcrt PM1 ; Low! of this Coalit:. n Ministry of ISM.
a di-air'taa by T. Walter Wilson, R. 1.
DISRAELI'S FIRST SPEECH IN THE HOUSE OP COMMONS.
"I have begun several times many things, and I have often succeeded at last. Ay, sir, though I sit down now, the time will come when
you will hear me."
477
478
Parliament Past and Present
THE OPENISO OF PAULIAMKNT BY QUEEN VICTORIA IX 1843.
entering into a defence of his position as a political leader, and mentioning that he had
foregone judicial preferment in order to continue his independent career, concluded with the
words, "Is it for that sacrifice that I am now vilified and traduced by an old renegade." It
was at this juncture that Disraeli stepped into the breach. He was a strikingly handsome young
man, somewhat of a dandy in his dress, and with an air of easy grace which bespoke more than a
passing acquaintance with salons. When he arose, as he did the instant that O'Connell resumed
his seat, all eyes were turned towards him in eager curiosity, as, apart from the personal enmity
known to exist between him and the Irish leader, there was the dibut of one of the most
popular and fashionable writers of the day to stimulate interest. His speech, which commenced
with the customary apology for indulgence on the plea of inexperience, opened quietly enough,
but it was g])eedily made clear that he was not to have fair play. A reference to O'Connell
provoked interruption, and there were jeers when he went on to say that he did not "affect
to be insensible to the difficulty of my position.'' They were renewed when he professed his
anxiety to bring the subject of the debate back to the proper point. "I wish," said Disraeli. " I
really could induce the House to give me five minutes more (roars of laughter). I stand here
to-night, sir— (here the noise in the House became so general that the honourable gentleman could
not proceed for some time ; when the confusion had somewhat subsided he said :)— I stand here
to-night, sir, not formally, but in some degree virtually, the representative of a considerable
number of members of Parliament (bursts of laughter). Now, why smile ? (continued laughter).
\Vliv envy me ? (here the laughter became loud and general). Why should I not have a tale to
unfold to-night ? (roars of laughter). Do you forget that band of a hundred and fifty-eight members
— those ingenuous and inexperienced youths to whose unsophisticated minds the Chancellor of the
Exchequer, in those tones of winning pathos (excessive laughter and loud cries of ' Question ')."
So the interruptions continued, the speaker meanwhile battling manfully on, determined,
if possible, to secure a hearing. The report — that of the Morning Chronicle of December 8th,
1837 — proceeds: "If honourable members think it is fair to interrupt me, 1 will submit
(great laughter). I would not act so towards any one, that is all I can say (laughter, and cries
of 'Go on ! '). But I beg simply to ask (' Oh ! ' and loud laughter). Nothing is so easy as
to laugh (roars of laughter). I really wish to place before the House what is our position.
When we remember all this — when we remember that in spite of the support of the honour-
able and learned gentleman the member for Dublin and his well-disciplined phalanx of
patriots, and, in spite of this, we remember the amatory eclogue — (roars of laughter) — the old
The Victorian Parliaments
479
loves and the new loves, that took place between the noble lord the Tityrus of the Treasury
Bench and the learned Daphne of Liskeard — (loud laughter and cries of ' Question ') — which
appeared as a fresh instance of the amoris redintegrutio — (excessive laughter) — when we
remember at the same time that with emancipated Ireland and enslaved England on the one
hand a triumphant nation, on the other a groaning people, and notwithstanding the noble lord,
secure on the pedestal of power, may wield in one hand the keys of St. Peter, and —
" At this juncture." proceeds the veracious chronicle, " the honourable member was interrupted
with such loud and incessant bursts of laughter that it was impossible to know whether he
really closed his sentence or not.'' Then came that historic incident with its prophetic declara-
tion which will ever be associated with the great statesman's entrance upon the Parliamentary
stage. " At last," says Mr. James Grant, " losing all temper, which until then he had preserved in
a wonderful manner, he paused in the middle of a sentence, and looking the Liberals indignantly
in the face, raised his hands and opened his mouth as wide as its dimensions would permit, and
said in remarkably loud and almost terrific tones : ' I am not at all surprised at the reception
which I have received. I have begun several times many things, and I have often succeeded
at last. Ay, sir, and though I sit down now, the time will come when you will hear me.' "
Despite his brave words Disraeli was intensely mortified at the unmannerly reception he
had received. Mr. Grant describes him as presenting "the very picture of a disappointed man,"
sitting for the remainder of the evening scarcely exchanging a word with any one. Disraeli's
own view was that his debut was a failure, but that the failure was not caused by any short-
comings on his part, but from the physical powers of his adversaries. "I can give you no
idea," he says in a letter to his sister written the day after the delivery -of the speech, " how
bitter, how factious, how unfair they were, and that was like my first debut at Aylesbury,
and ]jerhaps in that sense may be auspicious of ultimate triumph in the same scene. I fought
through all with undaunted pluck and unruffled temper, made occasionally good isolated hits
when there was silence, and finished with spirit when I found a formal display was in-
effectual. My party backed me well, and no one with more zeal and kindness than Peel —
cheering me repeatedly, which is not
his custom. In the Lobby at the
division Chandos, who was not near
me while speaking, came up and
congratulated me. I replied that
I thought there was no cause for
congratulations, and muttered
'Failure!' 'No such thing,' said
Chandos ; ' you are quite wrong. I
have just seen Peel, and I said to
him, " Now tell me exactly what
you think of D." Peel replied.
" Some of my party were disappointed
and talk of failure ; I say just the
reverse. -He did all that he could
do under the circumstances. I say
anything but failure ; he must make
his way." ' Peel's instinct was sound.
Before many years had elapsed Disraeli
had shown beyond cavil his genius
for political warfare, and shown it,
curiously enough, at Peel's expense.
But this is a story which must
be left for treatment in another
chapter.
After tke picture by Cfialon.
BENJAMIN DISRAELI.
An early portrait-
I HAPTEK XXXIV.
THE VICTORIAN PARLIAMENTS (continued).
TllE vear 1046 brought to a close an agitation which had been carried mi throti'rhout the
country for a long period under the auspices of the Anti-Corn I*i\v League, a body founded at
Manchester for the purpose of abolishing tlie import duty on wheat, and thereby enabling the
whole ]>opulation to obtain cheaper bread. Charles Pelham Villi.-rs Kicliard CoUleji. and John
Bright are names that will ever be remembered in connection with this great movement. All
were typical middle-class Englishmen, and they fought tin- battle with a dogged jM-r>everance
worthy of the cause. But to Sir Robert Peel is due the credit of actually giving legislative
effect, to the determination of the majority of people. This great man's career has already
been touched upon. As was eloquently expressed by his diMinuuislied son, Lord Peel, he wa» •• a
statesman whose history and whose labours are identified with the story and debates of this
House; whose public services are indelibly written in the records of his country; and who.-c
name is warmly cherished in a multitude of British homes." For more than half a century
the restrict ions on the im-
portation of wheat had been
keenly felt, and from time to
time the subject was dealt
with in a >mall way. the final
concession a few years previous
to 1846 being a sliding scale
duty of Is. to -.1 per quarter.
according to the market value.
Kventually. Sir Robert Peel,
hitherto the trusted leader of
the Protectionist party, became
convinced of the justice of the
cry for abolition of the duty,
and he succeeded in 1846. in
spite of the violent opposition
of many of his own sup]Nirters,
in passing into law that inea>ure
with which his name i- M
closely connected and which
resulted in the total extinc-
tion of the import duty on corn
and in the ultimate ado] it ion
of the general policy of Free
Trade.
The development of Peel's
Free Trade policy was marked
by tierce and acrimonious
debates in the Commons, and
by personal attacks upon the
RICHARD COBDEJC, M.P., statesman by his old asxn-i-
On« of the principal leader* of tb« Free Trade movement. BtCS, wllO regarded him as the
480
The Victorian Parliaments
481
betrayer of their interests.
Foremost in the fray through-
out these bitter controversies
was Disraeli, who, earlier a
faithful follower and admirer
of Peel, now became his
sleepless and unrelenting
antagonist. It is not necessary
for our purposes to inquire
whether this change of front
was due to genuine public
spirit, or whether, as some
writers represent, to personal
feeling arising out of Peel's
neglect of Disraeli in forming
his Administration. But it
is to be noted that the open
antagonism between the two
was shown before the states-
man took his final plunge,
and arose over matters which
were not connected with the
fiscal question which was
shortly to become the burn-
ing controversy of the day.
There was a particularly
sharp passage of arms in the
session of 18-15 over the
historic episode of the open-
ing of Mazzini's letters.
Disraeli attacked Peel with
violence, describing him as
displaying "unusual warmth,"
and observing that it by no means followed that he felt what he expressed. " The right
honourable baronet," he remarked, "has too great a mind, and feels too eminent a position, ever
to lose his temper ; but in a popular assembly it is sometimes expedient to enact the part
of the choleric gentleman. The right honourable gentleman touched the redbox with emotion.
I know from old experience that when one first enters the House these exhibitions are rather
alarming ; and I believe that some of the younger members were much frightened ; but I would
advise them not to be terrified. I will tell them that the right honourable baronet will not
eat them up — will not even resign ; the very worst thing he will do will be to tell them to
rescind a vote." The next night Sir Robert Peel replied to the attack. "Notwithstanding the
provocation of the honourable gentleman," he said, "I will not deal so harshly with him as he
has dealt with me. He undertakes to assure the House that my vehemence was all pretended
and warmth all simulated. I, on the contrary, will do him entire justice ; I do believe that
his bitterness was not simulated, but that it was entirely sincere. . . . The honourable gentleman
is at perfect liberty to give a direct support to a hostile motion, but all I ask is, that when
he gives that support to the motion, let him not say that he does it in a friendly spirit.
Give me the avowed, erect, and manly foe
Firm I can meet, perhaps can turn the blow ;
But of all plagues, good Heaven, thy wrath can send,
Save, O save me, from a candid friend.
61
From tJiepainting by W'ald r \\'iiiin,n Ov/css, R.A.t in the Rational Portrait Gallery.
THE KIGHT HON. JOHN BRIGHT, M.P.
The eminent statesman and orator.
484
Parliament Past and Present
after Peel Imd unfolded his jmlicy. After the stati-Miian had >|>oken. tin-re- was a niitint-iitary pause,
wliii-li M-eine.l tn indicate that seriou> J-MH- \va- nut to bt> joined that evening. Disraeli. however.
|H-iceived liis opportunity, ainl lie took it. Rising in his scat. he. amid tin- rousing cheers ol
the discontented Protectionists, denounced the Mini>terial policy with an adroitness which showed
Ix-vond ca\il his great <|iialitics as a political leader. It has l»-en suggested liy a ]>opuiar his-
torian that hut for this intervention ,ni Disraeli's |«irt Peel's Protect ioni.-t following might never
have u.nie into «>IM-II revolt. 15ut great as the speech was. and still greater the genius which
inspired it> delivery at the [(articular juncture it was delivered, it can hardly have exeivi>ed that
remarkahle intluence. What, however, it undoubtedly did do was to give cohesiveness to the
tiisiffected ranks, and personally to elevate Disraeli to the ]M>sition of the mouthpiece of the
|>aitv. and one of its principal leaders. Throughout this memorable session the tight was
n.aniained. with Disraeli a> the principal champion of the abandoned creed. It was a lo.-ing
liattle. hut it was fought with a spirit and a resolution which had seldom been equalled in
similar ciivnm-tanees. Disraeli's final speech on the third reading of the hill on .May 15th
a- a Mriking piece of declamatory oratory. "Even now," he said — "even now, in this last
of the drama, when the party whom he unintentionally betrayed is to lie unintcntionallv
annihilated — even now the right honourable gentlemen, faithful to the law of his being, is
going to pass a project which 1 helieve
it is matter of notoriety is not of
his own invention. It is one which
may have Keen modified, but which I
believe has been offered to another
Government, and by that (iovernment
has been wisely rejected. V.'hy. >ir.
these are matters of general notoriety.
After the day that the right honnur-
able gentleman made his tii>t c\p<>-iti<>ii
of his schemes, a gentleman well
known to the House, and learned in
all the political secrets behind the
scenes, met me and said : ' Well, what
do you think of your chief's plan ? '
Not knowing exactly what to say, but
taking up a phrase which has been
much used in the House. I ob.-erved :
•Well. 1 Mippuse it is a great and
comprehensive plan.' 'Oh!' he replied,
•we know all about it; it was ottered
to us. It was not his plan ; it's
Popham's plan.' And is Kngland to
be governed by Popham's plan ? Will
he go to the country with it? Will
he go with it to that ancient and
famous England thai once was governed
by statesmen — by Pmrleighs and by
Wal>inglianis. by Holingbrokes and by
Wai poll's, by a Chatham and a Canning.
Will he go to it, with this fanta.-tic
"irta,. scheme of some pn-Minipluous pedant ?
l.»l:l> WILLIAM CKDKUK CAVENDISH I1ESTINCK, M.P. (KNOWN AK I won't believe it I hllVC that COH-
I.iilSIi 1.1:1.1:1.1: MKNTIXCK), ., ,
lideiu-e m the common sense. I will
Leader of tho ProtectinniM | «rtjr In th« HOUK of Cnronioni after the adoption of ...
Fr« Trade |.rioci|.l«. by Sir Robert PecL •"•'iv the Common spirit, of OUr COUlltrV-
from a dnuciny by T. Walter Wilson, K.I.
THE HOUSE OF COMMONS IN 1846.
Sir Hubert Peel announcing Ms conversion to Free Trade jirinciples during the Corn Law debate, January £2nd.
485
486
Parliament Past and Present
JOHN AKTIU'lt ROEBUCK, M.I'.
(" Old Tear'cm "), niMiy }t*n member for Sheffield.
anil I U-lieve they will not long
endure this huckstering tyranny of the
Tiva-iiry Itench— those jxilitical pillars tlmt
Knight their party in the eheap.-M market
and sold us in the deaiv-t."
Sir Kol>ert Peel, in his reply to this
vigorous >peech. siid it would lie offering an
insult to the country if he were to con-
descend to bandy iK-rsonalities on Mich an
occasion. He foresaw that the course which
lie had taken from a sense of public duty
would, as its inevitable result, lead to tin-
forfeit ing of friendships which he most highly
valued; "but,'' he went on. "the smallc-t
of all the penalties which I antici|.ated were
the continued venomous attacks of the
member for Shrewsbury.'' Afterwards he
remarked that it was strange that if his
character was what Disraeli had described
it, that politician should have been so ready
to give him his support in 1841. "It is
still more surprising." proceeded 1'eel. -that
he should have been ready, as I think he
was, to unite hi> iortniu-s \\ it h mine in othYe.
thus implying the strongest proof which any
public man can give of confidence in the honour and integrity of a Minister of the (Yo\\n."
These not too elevating personal controversies between 1'eel and Disraeli wen- protracted
for some time longer, and though they added to the excitement aroused by the debate, thev
had little effect on the fate of the Kepeal Hill. On .May 15th the measure passed its third
reading by a majority of ninety-eight. Peel's triumph was short-lived. The disaffected
sections, discomfited on the main issue, sought by a >ide wind to accomplish their purpose.
They joined forces on an Irish Coercion Kill which had been introduced earlier in the session.
With unexampled virulence, Peel was attacked by Lord (ieorge Kentinck. the Protectionist,
leader, and by Disraeli. For controversial purposes the old story of Peel's ill-treatment of
Canning was revived, and there were long and acrimonious debates on points raised in this
connection of a purely personal interest. Peel held his ground well against the attacking
party, and satisfactorily vindicated himself from the charge of treachery to ('aiming. But
he could not altogether remove the effect produced by the efforts of the adroit and tiivler-s
tactician who was pitted against him. A speech delivered by Disraeli on June 15th on the third
night of the debate on the Irish Coercion Kill was particularly damaging. In this he went
exhaustively into the question of Peel's relations with Canning, and, concluding, said : •• I ask
the right honourable gentleman why Ireland was his great difficulty, and whether, if he had acted
with frankness to Mr. Canning in reference to his communication with Lord Liverpool in 1825,
Ireland would have Ix-en his great difficulty. This the right honourable gentleman must feel at
the present moment, when we are about again to divide on an Irish question — a division which
may K- fatal to the continuance of his power. It is Nemesis that inspires this debate and
dictates this division, and seals with the stigma of Parliamentary reprobation the catastrophe
of a sinister career." Peel was manifestly shaken by this attack. He arose "confused and
suffering." He >aid he had no right to reply, but continued to make deprecatory and feeble
observations. Finally, he called upon the House "to suspend their judgment until an
opportunity for reply came." l Five days later he delivered a full reply to the criticisms and
1 Disraeli's "Life of Bentinck."
The Victorian Parliaments
487
Reproduced ly ptrtnittion of the Art Union of London from their large plate of the picture by Daniel Maclise, K.A.
ADMIBAL BLAKE BEFORE TUNIS.
One of a series of paintings designed for the decoration of the new Houses of Parliament.
charges made in Disraeli's speech, but it was then too late to remove the injurious effect that
had been created. When on Thursday, June 25th, the division was taken on the second
reading of the Coercion Bill, there was a strong coalition of forces inimical to the Minister, with
the result that he was defeated by 292 votes to 219 — a majority of seventy-three. It was a strange
division. Disraeli hits off its most striking characteristics in his picturesque way in his " Life
of Bentinck " : '• More than a hundred Protectionist members followed the Minister ; more
than eighty avoided the division — a few of these, however, had paired ; nearly the same number
followed Lord George Bentinck. But it was not merely their numbers that attracted the
anxious observation of the Treasury Bench as the Protectionists passed in defile before the
Minister to the hostile Lobby. It was impossible that he could have marked them without
emotion ; the flower of that great party which had been so proud to follow one who had been
so proud to lead them. They were men to gain whose hearts and the hearts of their fathers
had been the aim and exultation of his life. They had extended to him an unlimited
confidence and an admiration without stint. They stood by him in the darkest hour, and had
borne him from the depths of despair to the proudest of living positions. Eight or wrong,
they were men of honour, breeding, and refinement, high and generous character, great weight
and station in the country, which they had ever placed at his disposal. They had been not
488
Parliament Past and Present
only his follower*, but his friend*; had joined in the same jilcasures. drunk from the same cup.
and in the pleasantness of private lift- had often forgotten ti Aether tin- ran- ami strife of
j-iliti.-. . . . NVlien Prince MetternicfT wa> informed at Iin-cilen with great oMentation that the
Kin|H»nir had ari ived. • Yes — but without his army.' was the reply. Sir Holx-rt Peel \\as still
First Minister of Kngland as Napoleon remained Kni|ieror for a while alter MOM-OW. . . . The
news that the (iovernment were not only beaten, but by a majority so large as seventy-three.
bejpin to circulate. An iiu-redulous murmur passed it along the TreaMirv I'eiich. 'They say
we are beaten bv seventv-three.' whispered the .mod important member of the Cabinet in a tone
of surprise to Sir Robert Peel. Sir Kobert I'eel did not reply or even turn his head. ll>
looked very grave and extended his chin, as was his habit when annoyed, and eared not to
speak. He Ix-gan to comprehend his ]H>sition and that the Kmperor was without \i\> army."
After the defeat on the Coercion Hill there was no alternative left to the Mini.-try but to
resign. Thev were the less concerned at this necessity as on the very night that the ad\er>e
vote had lieen registered the I\e[M-al Hill had passed its final >tage in the House of Lords by
11 substantial majority. I'eel. in a speech' announcing his retirement, paid a tribute to Ixichard
C'obden. whom lie descriln-d as "a man acting from pure and disinteiv.-ted motives, with
untiring energv. and who by appeals to reason enforced the necessity of the measures with an
eloquence the more to lie admired because unaffected and unadorned, and whose name ought
to be associated with their success." And speaking of himself, Peel in exalted language
described his feeling with relation to the last act of his official career. "I shall leave
a name execrated by every monopolist, who. from less honourable motives, clamours for
1'rotection because it conduces to his own individual benefit ; but it may be that I shall
leave a name sometimes re-
membered with expressions
of good-will in the abodes
of those whose lot it is to
labour and to earn their
daily bread by the sweat of
their brow, when they shall
recruit their exhausted
strength with abundant and
untaxed food, the sweeter
because it is no longer
leavened by the sense of
injustice." This speech
marked the close of Peel's
official life. But until he
met with his untimely end
by a fall from his horse on
Constitution Hill on June
21st, 1850, he continued a
distinguished and respected
member of the House.
The collapse of the Peel
Ministry left parties in a
great state of confusion.
Hi veil in twain by the Free
Trade question, the Conserva-
tives sat on opjiosite sides
of the House — the Pro-
«.ni.»!) if s. w. I'ictmyiit, R.A. t eel ionists sharing the Liberal
HEXKY Pi I.IIAM, FOURTH DUKE (IF XKWCASTI.E, K.O. benches With tllC WlllgS
The Victorian Parliaments
489
Radicals, and the Pcelites taking
their place on the Opposition
benches. Lord John Russell,
upon 'whom the Premiership now
devolved, endeavoured with but
indifferent success to conduct
the Administration amid these
curiously conflicting elements.
It was not long before the Pro-
tectionists drifted into an atti-
tude of hostility, and in the
session of 1 847 their position as
antagonists of the Ministry was
formally marked by their taking
their seats on the Opposition
benches. Disraeli continued,
as in the later period of the
Peel Administration, to take a
conspicuous part in the direction
of the Protectionist policy, and
when Lord George Bentinck
died suddenly on September 28th,
1848, lie was recognised as his
successor in the leadership. With
consummate skill he directed for
the next few years the fortunes
of the party, prosecuting mean-
while that system of education
which was to create out of the
sturdy and uncompromising
Toryism of the opponents of
Corn Law Repeal that compact
body of progressive Conservative
opinion which was in the not
distant future to have a domi-
nating influence in the direction
of national affairs. His attacks
on the Ministry ranged over a
wide field, and though his most
effective work was done in the
domain of domestic and fiscal
policy, he did not neglect the
Government'! conduct of foreign
affairs, which, in Lord Palmer-
ston's masterful hands, supplied
many openings for criticism.
On June 17th, 1850, a vote of
censure on the policy of the
Foreign Secretary was carried
in the House of Lords, and Disraeli
was urged by Lord John Russell
to submit a similar vote in the House of Commons in order that the opinion of the popular
62
From the painting ly Sir Francis Grant, P.R.A. in the National Portrait Gallery.
JOHN", FIRST EARL IIUSSELL, K.G.,
Better known as Lord Juhu Russell. This picture was painted in 1S34.
490
Parliament Past and Present
from a <
i«y l<y utorijt A'.i7..*.um/, lt.,4.
SIDNEY HERBERT,
Culunial Secretary in Lonl ralnicnton'i first, and War Secretary in hit
•ecoml, Administration.
chamber might be tested. Disraeli, however.
like a good tactician, declined to commit him-
self to a course which he knew would result
in a vote favourable to Ministers. It was left
to Roebuck to raise the question. The action
of this politician led to a prolonged del site, in
which Palmerston made a memorable sjieech.
He spoke for several hours, " from the dusk of
a summer evening to the dawn of a summer
morning." In concluding his oration he gave
utterance to some sentences which have become
historic. " 1 fearlessly challenge," he said, " the
verdict which this House, as representing a
political, a commercial, a constitutional country,
is to give on the question now brought before
it — whether the principles on which the foreign
policy of her Majesty's Government has been
conducted, and the sense of duty which has
led us to think ourselves bound to afford pro-
tection to our fellow-subjects abroad, are proper
and fitting guides for those who are charged
with the government of England ; and whether.
as the Roman in days of old held himself free
from indignity when he could say, ' Civis Romanua sum.' so also a British subject, in whatever
land he may lie, shall feel confident that the watchful eye and strong arm of England will
protect him against injustice and wrong."
Palmerston's vindication of his policy was regarded as complete and convincing, and the
delxite left the Government, so far as the external
affairs of the country were affected, stronger than ever.
It was in its home administration that the Conserva-
tive Opposition found the opportunity which at last
brought them success and gave to Disraeli his first
Ministerial preferment. On February llth, 1852,
a motion for the relief of agricultural distress
submitted from the Opposition benches was rejected
only by the small majority of fourteen in a full
House. This moral victory for the Opposition was
followed on February 20th by the real triumph of
the carrying against the Government of a motion
for the reduction of the franchise by the over-
whelming majority of one hundred and sixtv-two.
On February 24th Lord John Russell announced
the resignation of the Ministry. After a fruitless
attempt by Lord Stanley to form a Government,
I/ml John Russell resumed the direction of affairs
with his old colleagues, but it was soon made clear
by further defeats in the House of Commons that
his ]>osition was an untenable one. A serious rupture
between the Premier and Palmerston, culminating
in the tatter's dismissal from office, was the final
determining factor in the business. Defeated on
an amendment proposed by Lord Palmerston tO a and of Colonial Secretary in In.lSOS and lS86Adniini»tration..
*«»«<'••"• r *.>;.»„»,/, K.A.
EARL GKANVII.I.i:.
BySirJ.E. Mitlaii, Bart., P.R.A. By kind fttrmission of Hit Honorabli H'. F.A. Smith.
BENJAMIN DISKAELl, EARL OF BEACONSFIELD, K.G.
Tb« xjlpral IH.lTiinin -h- tnlrti"- I'.rli.mnn lii 1-r.w.itiu-rimiin-ilMr ,,f ti,r Rxclirqnor in im. anil twiot, lubM^umtljr. flllxl th<
I ,.,,.i.r,hl|.. IU wu i>n< of thefratetlul P>rlUm<rDUrr \oam
491
492
Parliament Past and Present
l>ill hrmi"ht in bv Lord John Ixii-ell for tin- establishment of a inilitiii force, the Government
•
witluln-w the me.iMire. ami a few days later — on February 23rd- tin- migration of Minister!
was formally announced. I/>rd Stanley, now the Karl of Derby, was eallc.l ti|>oii to form a new
Administration. He accepted the duty, and with Disraeli as his Chancellor of the Exchequer
ami the 1-eader of the l|oii>e of Common* -ought ti> carry on the government of the country
with the nn>tab!e elements to his hand. The Mini>terial portion, precarious from the first,
was not Mrengthened by the general elections which took place, in the- late summer. \Vlien
the new Parliament m«-t on November llth. it had to face a formidable array of hostile forces
ittpi-vductd by pirmutio* qf Ua Art L'laoti v! /.««'/•<. */y«,it tl<eir lurfft plate of the picture by £. M. Ward, H.A.
THE EXECUTION OF JIO.NTUosi:.
On« of a KriM of paintings designed for the decoration of th.- n. » Houses of rnrllanient. It figures on the wall of the corridor leading from the
Central Hall to the Lobby.
in a coalition of the Liberals and the Ti'dites. Issue was joined on the Budget, which was
intnxlnced bv I>i>raeli on December 4th in an able speech which occupied five hours in
delivery. The .Ministerial projtosals were hotly assailed. Whigs. Radicals, and IVelites united
in uncompromisingly condemning them. Disraeli defended himself with characteristic skill.
Carrying the war into the enemv's camp, he assailed the combination which had been formed
again.-t him. "Yes," he remarked, "I know what 1 have to face. I have to face a coalition.
The combination mav lx- successful. A coalition has before this been successful. But coalitions,
though successful, have always found this — that their triumph has been brief. This, too, I
know that England does not love coalitions. I appeal from the coalition to that public
opinion which governs this country — to that public opinion whose mild and irresistible
The Victorian Parliaments
493
DUKE OF
F>-a»i a di-airi,»j /-y (;._u,-tjr. Richmond, H.A.
GEOBGE DOUGLAS CAMPBELL, EIGHTH
ARGYLL, K.G.,
Secretary for India in Mr. Gladstone's first Administration.
influence can control even the decrees of Parlia-
ments, and without whose support the most august
and ancient institutions are but ' the baseless
fabric of a vision.' "
This speech of Disraeli's was not only a notable
one in itself; it was remarkable for the reply it
elicited. The Chancellor of the Exchequer's an-
tagonist was William Ewart Gladstone. This great
man, who had come into Parliament as member
for Newark as far back as January, 1833, had,
with the aid of his exceptional talents, built up
for himself a great reputation as a debater and
a Parliamentary tactician. His earliest leanings
were towards Toryism, but when the Free Trade
question split up the Conservative party, he took
his place amongst the Peelites and gradually
drifted further and further away from his old
position of stern unbending Toryism. The rise
of Disraeli to a commanding position in the
Conservative councils strengthened the bent of
his mind towards Liberalism. Between him and
the novelist-politician there had never been any
community of interest or sentiment. Their ideals
and aims were different ; their pursuits led them into different paths. Moreover, in the
character of each was a strongly marked egotism — if you will, a consciousness of power — which,
quite apart from divergence of political views, forbade intimate association. For some time
prior to the period with which we are dealing,
the way had been prepared for that con-
dition of active rivalry which the relations
of the two were ultimately to assume. But
there had been no special incident to de-
monstrate the sharp antagonism which existed.
The speech of Gladstone in reply to Disraeli's
attack on the coalition, however, left no room
for doubt as to the true position of affairs.
As Disraeli himself, on a former occasion al-
ready noted, had availed himself of a passing
opportunity to strike a deadly blow at Peel's
position, so now Gladstone, on the impulse
of the moment, delivered a stroke which, if
it was not the direct cause of the defeat of
the Derby Ministry, contributed in no small
degree to bring about that result. Spring-
ing to his feet as soon as Disraeli had
finished his observations, he, amid a scene of
wild excitement, delivered an impassioned
attack on the Chancellor of the Exchequer.
"This speech," he said, "is one which must
be answered, and answered at the moment.
The character of England involved in that of
her public men — the character of England
is at stake. . . . The right honourable gentle-
ii t!i>: fintiittinj \jy Thomas A. H'oolnotli i/i ike Rational Portrait Gallery.
JOHN', FIRST LORD CAMPBELL, LORD CHANCELLOR,
Authorof "The Lives of the Lord Chancellors " and other biographical
works.
494
Parliament Past and Present
man must permit me to (<•!! him that
he is not entitled to charge with in-
solence men of as high ]><»iti<ni and
as high character in thi.- House as
himself. And I must tell him that
whatever else lie has learnt, he has
not learnt to keep within those limits
in discussion, of moderation and of
forbearance, that ought to restrain the
conduct and language of every member
of this House; the disregard of which,
while it is an nO'enee amongst the
meanest of us, is an offence of tenfold
weight when committed by the Leader
of the House of Commons." A storm
of protest from the Ministerialists
accompanied the speaker's fiery torrent
of oratory, but he continued his speech
undismayed, entering into an elaborate
and destructive analysis of the Hudget
proposals. When, a little later on,
the division was taken, the criticism
was shown to have had its effect.
While 286 voted for the particular pro-
posal before the House, there were 305
members against it, so that the Govern-
ment were defeated by a majority of
nineteen. The resignation of Min-
isters followed as a matter of course.
The Karl of Aberdeen now formed a Coalition Ministry, which had as its principal
members Lord John liussell, Foreign Secretary ; Lord Palmerston, Home Secretary; and Gladstone
Chancellor of the Exchequer. Its career was marked by a period of intense national anxiety
and misgiving owing to the outbreak of the war with Russia in the Crimea. The Parliamentary
controversies of those perilous times are best remembered for the magnificent oratory of John
Bright, who, as the Apostle of Peace, fervently protested against the war. In purity of diction,
felicity of expression, and apt and impressive imagery, the speeches of this statesman at this
]>eriod are hardly equalled, and are certainly not excelled, by anything in the annals of Parlia-
mentary oratory. One beautiful passage in a speech delivered on February 23rd, 1855, has
become enshrined amongst the rarest gems of eloquence. The question under discussion was
the policy of the continuance of the war. "I do not suppose," he said, "that your troops are
to be beaten in actual conflict with the fee, or that they will be driven into the sea; but
I am certain that many homes in England in which there now exists a fond hope that the
distant one may return — many such homes may he rendered desolate when the next mail shall
arrive. The Angel of Death has been abroad throughout the land: you may almost hear the
heating of his wings. There is no one, as when the first-horn were slain of old. to sprinkle
with hlood the lintel and the two side-posts of our doors that he may spare and pass on. He
take> his \ictims from the castle of the noble, the mansion of the wealthy, and the cottage
of the poor and the lowly: and it is on behalf of all these classes that I make this solemn
appeal."
A wave of emotion swept over the House as these impressive words were uttered. When
the orator had finished, an intense silence prevailed for a few moments, and then in awed
accents members turned to each other to discuss the matchless eloquence to which they had
Froi* a JrutciHij by Gtoi-ge fiiclinwtnt, R.A.
THE 3IAKQCIS (IF SALISBURY,
Whfn Ixinl Robert Ocil.
The Victorian Parliaments
495
just been listening. Not since Pitt had swayed the assembly by his wonderful powers of
oratory had a speech probably caused so deep an impression.
. The debates on the Crimean war, besides supplying examples of splendid eloquence, were
fruitful in recriminatory incidents. Both during the continuance of the Aberdeen Ministry
and the term of power of the Palmerston Administration which succeeded it in 1855, Disraeli
brought to bear upon Ministers all his great powers of destructive criticism, with the result
that there were many sharp passages of arms across the table — to the interest of members,,
though perhaps not to the edification of the country. Prominently associated with the history
of this stormy period is the name of John Arthur Roebuck, a politician of great ability, who,,
though he never held office, exercised considerable influence in Parliament during the many
years he sat for Sheffield. He made himself an authority on foreign affairs, and his keenr
vigorous addresses, delivered both in the House and on the platform, were read more widely,
perhaps, than the utterances of any private — -or, as he preferred to call himself, independent —
member. Amongst his constituents he was affectionately known by the nickname of " Old
Tear 'em." This quaint epithet, which so well suited his political methods, was derived from
a speech which he delivered at the Cutlers' Feast on September 2nd, 1858, on the designs, or
supposed designs, of the Emperor of the French. Just previously, the members of the House
of Commons had visited Cherbourg by invitation. Roebuck, referring to this, observed : " It
may be said that those who stand in my position ought not to say anything that excites
national animosity; and I respond to that sentiment. Eut, sir, the farmer who goes to sleep
having placed the watch-dog Tear 'em over his rickyard, hears the watch-dog bark. He, in the
anger of a half somnolence, says, ' I wish Tear 'em would be quiet,' and bawls out of the
window ' Down, Tear 'em ! ' Tear 'em does go down ; the farmer goes to sleep, and he is awoke
by the flashing in his windows of the
light of his ricks on fire. I am Tear
'em. I tell you to beware. What is
the meaning of Cherbourg ? It is a
standing menace to England."
In the House of Commons Roebuck
distinguished himself by the brilliancy
of his criticisms of the muddling and
incompetence of the Administration in
the conduct of the Crimean campaign.
It was his motion for a Committee of
Inquiry into the conduct of the war
that brought about the downfall of the
Aberdeen Cabinet in January, 1855.
Subsequently he showed himself a bitter
opponent of the Administration of Lord
Palmerston, though that statesman on
coming into office accepted his proposed
Committee of Investigation, losing
thereby the services of Gladstone, Sir
James Graham, and Sidney Herbert. In
one of his speeches he spoke of the
Duke of Newcastle as " a scapegoat that
had been sent into the wilderness with
the sins of the Administration upon his
head.'' Strong exception was taken by
some of the duke's old colleagues 10
i
from a draicing 1)>J Gwrye Richmond, R.A.
HENRY HOWARD MOLYXEDX, FOURTH EARL OP CARNARVON,
this assertion, whereupon Roebuck im- One of the principal members of Disraeli's Cabinets. Colonial Secretary 1866-T
perturbably replied: " Sir, I take shame
and 1874-8, and Lord Lieutenant of Irelan
496
Parliament Past and Present
to myself for once in my life.
I have indulged in panegyric,
but. like almost all other men
who attempt a character to
which they arc' not accustomed,
1 have failed in representing
it, and have failed also most
completely in making myself
understood. I did object to
making the Duke of Newcastle
a scapegoat. I gave that noble
duke credit for industry and
good intentions, and 1 said
that he had done his duty
according to his ability. Then
1 am turned round upon be-
canse 1 am said to have eulo-
gii-ed the noble dllke."
With 1'almerston Roebuck
had many sharp passages, but
the statesman entertained no
enmity — indeed, if we may
judge from a story which KOI-
huck himself1 once told, the old
peer had a strong liking for
his very candid critic. Having
business to transact with the
peer, Roebuck, alxiut the period
of the American Civil War,
waited upon him just alter he
had delivered a strong speech
to his constituents on the sul>-
ject of the conflict. "The
moment I got into his room,"
said Itoebuck. "he turned round
and put out his hands and said.
' Roebuck, Roebuck, what a
devilish good speech you made
at Sheffield!' I said, 'My lord, I am greatly obliged to you, and flattered for the hard phrase
you have used alniut mv sj>e.ecb. ' — though it was a hard one, you know — 'I am very much
flattered.' • Flattered ? ' he said. ' Why. I am entirely of your opinion, though I dare not say so.' "
Palmerston's tenure of power was interrupted for a brief period from 1858 to 185'J,
during which the Karl of Derby, with Disraeli as his chief henchman, carried on the
Administration. Hut hi* hold on the country was strengthened rather than not by the
tem)>orarv check, and after the general election of 1859 he was reinstalled at the head of
the Ministry with a weight of popularity In-hind him which made his position practically
impregnablt — ind 1. few First Ministers of the Crown have ever enjoyed in so peculiar a
degree the confidence of their countrymen of all shades of political opinion. His death in
18G5 created a void in political life which could not be adequately rilled. Earl Russell
assumed the Premiership, and Mr. Gladstone became, for the first time. Leader of the
House of Commons. The Ministry soon got into troubled water1 over the question of
Beform. After struggling on for some time against a jM>werfnl array of adverse forces, it
an engraving after a photograph taken in tlif latt 'jtftict.
•Mil: KICIIT 1IOX. W. E. GLADSTONE.
The Victorian Parliaments
497
finally, on June 18th, 1866, came to grief over an amendment in Committee, and resigned.
The return of the Earl of Derby to power, with Disraeli again in the position of Leader
of the House of Commons, followed. Though unpledged on Reform, the new Ministers
speedily found that the question was one whicli brooked no delay. Resolutions were tabled
dealing with the subject, and these were followed by the production of a bill reducing the
rating in towns to a £6 franchise and making other important changes in the electoral law.
Such sweeping proposals as these had not been anticipated, and there was much excitement
in political quarters, which was further increased when it became known that the Government
had withdrawn this scheme in favour of a measure of universal household suffrage modified by
various 4i fancy franchises," and that as a consequence three members of the Ministry — Lord
Cranborne (now the Marquis of Salisbury), Lord Carnarvon, and General Peel — -had resigned.
THE HOUSE OF LOUDS LIBRARY: TIIK QUKEXS ROOM.
One of the pleasantest rooms of the suite set apart for the convenience of the members of the Upper House.
The passage of the bill through the House was tempestuous, but dealing in a conciliatory spirit
with the amendments brought forward, Disraeli succeeded in safely carrying the scheme through
to the third reading stage. His amenability to pressure, as well as his general attitude of
tolerance towards Reform, excited much criticism. Not the least remarkable attack was that
made by Lord Cranborne at the third reading stage. " I have heard it said," observed
the noble lord, "that the bill is a Conservative triumph. If it be a Conservative triumph
to have adopted the principles of your most determined adversary, the honourable member
for Birmingham (Mr. Bright) ; if it be a Conservative triumph to have introduced a bill
guarded with precautions and securities, and to have abandoned every one of those precautions
and securities at the bidding of your opponents ; then in the whole course of your annals I
will venture to say the Conservative party has won no triumph so signal. After all, our
theory of government is 'not that a certain number of statesmen should place themselves in
office and do whatever the House of Commons bids them. Our theory of government is that
63
498
Parliament Past and Present
on each side of the House there should U> men supporting definite o]iinii»is. and tlmt what
thev have sup|>orted in opposition they should adhere to in orh'ce. ami that every our should
know from tin- fact of their twing in office tlmt those (.articular opinions will he supported.
If vou reverse tliat and declare that, no matter what a man lias supported in opjiosition, the
moment he nets into oth'.-e it .shall !*• O]K-II to him to reverse and repudiate it all. you
pr.icticallv destroy the whole basis on which our form of government rests, ami you make the
House i,f Commons a mere scrambling for oth'ce. You practically K-mish nil honourable men
from the |Kilitical arena, and you will find in the long run that the time will come when your
slat. -men will be not bins,' but political adventurers, and that professions of opinion will be
looked u)Kin onlv as so manv political man. envies for the purpose of attaining office." I.or.l
CranUirne went on to say that even if he deemed the bill to be most advantageous, he should
still deeplv regret "that the jMisition of the executive should have been so degraded as it has
lieen in the present session. I should." he continued, "deeply regret to find that the
House of Commons has applauded a policy of legerdemain. And I should above all things
regret that this great gift to the p<-<.| le if great gift you think it — should have been
purchased by a political ln>t nival which has no parallel in our Parliamentary annals, which
Mrikes at the root of all that mutual confidence which is the very soul of our party govern-
ment, and on which only the strength and freedom of our representative in.-titut ions can
be maintained."
Lord Cranlmrne was not the only Conservative who denounced Disraeli's Reform policv.
Another vigorous speech in opposition to the measure was made by Mr. Heresf'ord Hope. who.
after criticising the conduct of the .Ministry, and particularly of the Leader of the Hou-..
said that he for one, whether he lost his seat or not, would vote with his whole heart
nnd conscieix against the Asian mystery." Disraeli was quite equal to the occasion.
He retorted with one of his most sarcastic
speeches. "I can assure the honourable
gentleman," he said, "that 1 listened with
great pleasure to the invectives he delivered
against me. I admire his style; it is a
very great ornament to discussion, but it
requires practice. I listen with the greatest
satisfaction to all his exhibitions in tliis
House — (Oh! Oh!) — and when he talks alioiit
an Asian mystery I will tell him that there
are Batavian graces in all that he >avs
which I notice with satisfaction, and which
charm me." "Batavian graces.'' applied to
Mr. Beresford Hope's somewhat ungainly
style of declamation, clung to that gentleman
long after the Reform question had passed
beyond the actual stage of controversy.
Decidedly Disraeli was a dangerous opponent
to engage in lingual conflict.
Later. Disraeli speaking at Edinburgh
entered into a general defence of the policy
of the Derby Ministry in dealing with
Reform. "I had," he said in a pa--!-'
which has become historic, "to prepare the
mind of the country, and to educate — if it
From a Pk<>iobrij,tLoHdansitrtoKopif (•;., Ltd. benot arrogant to use such a pliras. — to
U..I.KKT I.OWK. V.SCO.ST sHKiM.KooKK, educate our party. It is a large party,
Cbanwll.ir of the Eicheqtier in Mr. OtednUwo't flint AdminUtration ; . * l_ ll j j
»uth«roftb«uiii»puUr»iau:hT»i. and requires its attention to be called to
The Victorian Parliaments
499
questions of this kind with some pressure. I
had to prepare the mind of Parliament and of
the country on the question of Reform. That
wa$ not only with the concurrence of Lord
Derby, but of my colleagues."
In spite of the open disaffection of not a
few Conservatives and the smouldering discontent
of others, Disraeli's position in the Conservative
party after the passage of the Reform Bill
remained unshaken. If distrusted, he was yet
accepted as the only possible leader for the party.
Consequently, when Lord Derby, stricken with
fatal illness, on February 25th, 1868, resigned
the Premiership, and Disraeli was chosen by the
late Queen as his successor, the selection met
with general acquiescence in the ranks of the
Ministerialists. It was an unquiet throne, how-
ever, which the new Premier was to occupy. He
immediately found himself face to face with the
necessity of dealing with the Irish Church
question, and dealing with it under political
conditions which rendered failure almost certain.
At the outset he essayed a temporising policy.
But his hand was forced by Mr. Gladstone
giving notice on March 23rd of his famous
resolutions in favour of the Disestablishment and
Disendowment of the Church. The Govern-
ment met the resolutions by an amendment declaring that any proposition tending towards
Disestablishment and Disendowment ought to be reserved for the decision of a new Parliament.
Disraeli fought what he felt from the outset to be a losing contest with characteristic game-
ness. His position was rendered the more difficult by the attacks made on his flank by Lord
Cranborne, in whose mind still rankled a sense of irritation at the treatment of the Eeform
question. The burden of the attacks was the opportunism of Disraeli. In concluding one of
his speeches, the noble lord said : " I do not pretend to predict the probable course of the right
honourable gentleman at the head of the Government. I should as soon undertake to tell you
which way the weather-cock would point to-morrow." Disraeli, who could always be reckoned
on to give as good as he received, was thoroughly equal to the occasion. " The noble lord,"
he observed, "is at no time wanting in imputing to us being influenced by not the most
amiable motives that can regulate the conduct of public men. I do not quarrel with the invective
of the noble lord. The noble lord is a man of great talent, and he has vigour in his language.
There is great vigour in his invective and no want of vindictiveness. I admit that now, speaking
as a critic, and perhaps not an impartial one, I must say I think it wants finish." Whether
Lord Cranborne's invective lacked " finish " or not, it was not without its effect on the general
political situation. The Government was defeated by majorities of sixty and sixty-five respec-
tively in divisions on the resolutions. The resignation of Ministers was looked for, but on
May 4th Disraeli announced that the decision come to was to dissolve Parliament, Heated
controversy ensued as to the legitimacy of this step from a constitutional standpoint. But
Ministers adhered to their resolution and continued in office until the autumn, when the general
election was held, with disastrous results to the Conservatives. Without wailing for the meeting
of Parliament, the Government resigned.
Gladstone was now called upon to assume the supreme political office for the first time.
He was in the heyday of his splendid powers, with behind him the great reputation gained
From a plioio by the London Stereoscopic Co., Ltd,
HENKY BOUVERIE BRAND, VISCOUNT HAMPDEN,
tfjieiiker of the House of Commons from 1ST2 to 18S4.
500
Parliament Past and Present
bv hi* brilliant admini-t ration of the country's finances in four Administ rations. During the
six years that his Administration lasted, several ini]Kirtant reforms were curried, notably the
Education Act, by the pro\i-i"ii> of which the country w«is for tin- first time endowed with a
State system of compulsory elementary education. The Ministry, though Mrong. had its ups
nn<l downs. One of the most humiliating rel mil's it received was over u pro]«>sal made in the
l{iidi;et of 1871 by .Mr. Kohert Ixiwc. the Chancellor of the Exchequer, to levy a tax of one
half|x-nny on each IH>X of lucifer matches. Immense excitement was created by this ap]«irent ly
imiiM-ent |iro]Misal. The match-makers, apprehensive of the effect that the impost would have
on their intenM-. commenced an agitation again-t the Hudget. It was regarded with amused
interest at tirst, but when, on April 24th. a deputation composed of several thousand East
End workers marched in procession to \Ve>t minster, the authorities in their turn became
alarmed. Ilefore the demonstrators arrived at the Houses of Parliament, they were met by
the police and dispersed. Subsequently complaint was made in the llou>e of the treatment
meted out to the match-makers, whereupon the Home Secretary Mr. I'ruee) explained that
".such a procession was contrary to the law — the law being that no large bodies of pcr-<>u>
should go either to the Sovereign or to Parliament for the purjiose of presenting a petition.
The number jK-rmitted by law does
not. exceed ten persons. The Act
of George III. known as the One
.Mile Act." he added, "applies to
meetings, and provides that such
meetings as that, of Monday la-t
shall not be held within one mile
of Westminster." The vindicatim,
of the majesty of the law and of
the privacy of Parliament in the
.•a>e of the match-makers lias afforded
u precedent which has served to
keep many awkward movements at
arm's length of the Palace of West-
minster. Where numerous deputa-
tions have found their way into or
near the- legislative precincts, it has
usually been with the connivance of
the authorities, or at least with their
tacit approval.
The term of office of the Glad-
stone Administration was marked by
a vigorous controversy relative to
the expenditure on the Koyal es-
tablishments. It was at first mostlv
confined to the public platform; but
early in the session of 1S7L' on
March 19th — Sir Charles Dilke
raised the question in the House on
a motion to inquire into the ex-
penditure of the Civil List during
the reign of Queen Victoria, At
the outset of the debate the mover
fnMlk< raiding k, G,or, .,„(*« Xal.mal 1-ortrail OolKry. »f the resolution Was interrupted
WILLIAM p.uii: WOOD, n.ticox u ATii KKi.KY, by another member, who raised a
Umi chwiwiior from 1808 to 18T2. question of privilege. The former
The Victorian Parliaments
501
had outside the House avowed himself a Eepublican, and the question now arising was whether
he had not violated the oath of allegiance to her Majesty taken by every member of
the House. This gave rise to a preliminary scene of disorder, a sort of forecast of what
followed. The Speaker refusing to decide as to what was consistent or not consistent
with the oath, Sir Charles Dilke proceeded to state his case, attacking various items of
expenditure and certain allowances to members of the Royal Family. The speech was admittedly
an able one, and attacked principles and not persons. It was listened to with a fair amount
of attention and was answered by Mr. Gladstone, then First Lord of the Treasury. Here the
House thought the matter should have ended, but Mr. Auberon Herbert rose to address the
House and was received with overpowering cries of " Divide," " Oh ! Oh ! " and other marks
of disapproval at the continuance of the discussion. Undeterred, Mr. Herbert paused, and
the uproar ceased. Commencing again, the honourable member uttered a few words, when
the storm broke out anew with such violence that no one complete sentence could be heard ;
again and again he tried to secure a hearing, only to be overpowered. At length on the
intervention of the Speaker (Mr. Brand), he was allowed to proceed for a short space of time.
But as he began to attack the Constitution of the country, a large body of the members
on both sides of the House rose and left. Repeated motions were made to count out "the
House without success, and attention was then called to the fact that strangers were present,
and the House was cleared of them — including the Press — by the Sergeant-at-Arms and his
officers. During the remainder of the honourable member's speech, cries and interruptions were
resumed with increased vehemence,
these cries emanating from members
•who had concealed themselves in
remote and obscure parts of the
House. Suddenly, amid the general
uproar and confusion, loud noises
were heard in imitation of the
crowing of cocks, whereupon the
Speaker rose and said that he had
heard .sounds from behind his Chair
which were grossly disorderly, and
he could not refrain from expressing
the pain with which he had wit-
nessed the scene that had just taken
place. This rebuke from the Chair
had the effect of abating the storm,
and an endeavour was made to
terminate the proceedings by a
proposal that the House should at
once adjourn, but without effect.
Mr. Auberon Herbert was allowed
to finish his speech, and a few other
members taking part in the debate,
the House divided upon the question,
with the result that 276 voted
against the proposal and only two,
the mover and the seconder, for it.
Another remarkable scene which
occurred in the House of Commons
at a little later period— in July, from a. photo liytlte London StenouopicCa., Ltd.
1875 — may be mentioned in this SAMUEL PLIMSOLL,
Connection. It arose OUt of an ("The Seaman's Friend"), promoter of important shipping legislation.
502
Parliament Past and Present
announcement made- by I>israeli. as the head of
tin- then Ailniini.-tration. that the Govern incut
were unable to proceed with a liill dealing
with tin- overloading of merchant ships. The
statement, as well as the subject. :iii]>eaivd
unexciting, but it had a visible effect upon
.Mr. Samuel 1'limsoll. one of the members for
Ilerliv. who had devoted his best time and
energy for years to the cause of the sailor, anil
to whom the withdrawal of the bill ineani the
blighting of eager hopes and long-formed plans.
White with emotion, Mr. I'limsoll rose in his
]>lac-e and implored the I'rime .Mini>ter to
FeCODSlder his decision. In ]ia.--ionate tones he
exclaimed : •• Hundreds and hundreds of brave
men are sent to death, their wives are made
widows and their children are made orphans, in
order that a few speculative scoundrels, in whose
hearts there is neither the love of God nor
the fear of God, may make unhallowed gains."
Reference was then made to the loss of certain
ships whose registered owner bore the name of
a member of the House representing a seaport
town. "And," said Mr. I'limsoll. -1 shall ask
some question about other members of tin-
House also. I am determined to unmask the
villains who send to death and destruction '
Here' the Speaker rose and asked the honour-
able member to withdraw the word "villains"
with reference to members of the House. Mr.
Plimsoll, in impassioned tones, declined to withdraw the statement, and made his wav from
his seat to the table of the House. In one hand he held a written document, which he
flourished in the face of the Premier and then placed it upon the table. "This is my
protest," said he. and then resumed his seat. One course only could be followed by the
ll'>u-e that of cen>uring the member for his disorder. This was. after the lapse of a few
days, decided upon, but a can-fully written apology was then forthcoming from the offender,
in which he withdrew every expression contrary to Parliamentary usage, but added that he
did not withdraw any statement of fact. Satisfied with this amend, the II<>iise generously
forgave the honourable member for his breach of order. His zeal was not without its effect,
as a strong feeling was created in the country by his protest, and although late in the
session, the Government was compelled, by pressure from outside, to introduce and pa-> a l'iv-h
measure dealing with nn-eaworthy ships.
I.ess than twelve months after this episode in which Mr. Plimsoll figured so prominently,
Israeli wa> elevated to the House of Lords with the title of Earl of Ueaconsti. Id. Hi-
last utterance in the House of Commons was made on August 12th, 187C. on the state of
affairs in the Hast, which then exclusively occupied public attention. With Israeli dis-
appeared from the popular chamber one of the strangest and most fa-cinat in:.; figures who have
aver spoken within its walls. His policy may have, been, as it was represented by his opponents.
mischieMiiis ; his political morals corrupt; he may have lieen, as he was often called, an
unscrupulous adventurer and a political mountebank; but he had the invaluable quality of
making himself interesting, and this, from the point of view of the non-political reader, may
be held to extenuate a multitude of political sins.
B> il.
IIl'ST OF QfKKN VICTORIA,
In ll.e Qu«n'« liaoni, House of l.onln I.ibrarj, i>re«nte<l by Mr.
O'Leary, Librarian.
From an engraving after the painting by Sir franc it Grant, F.K.A., by permi**ion of Mr. Coningsby Disradi, M.P.
BENJAMIN DISRAELI, EARL OF BEACONSFIELD, K,G.
One uf the uioat successful of the many portraits of the famous statesman.
503
CHAPTER XXXV.
TUK riCT"i;i.\.\ PARLIAMENTS (concluded).
THE eli-vat ion of ])isnu-li to the Peers left bis great rival, (iladstone. in undisputed pre-
eminence in the ILniM- of ('oninions. No oiu- approached him either in intellectual gifts or
in political influence. Vet it was not an undistinguished assembly. In it .-at Mr. (iathorne
llarilv. whose impetuous eloquence won for him the title of tin- "Hots-pur of l)cl>att-." There
also wa> Mr. Kohert I.owe in the plenitude of his great powers; Sir William Vi-rnon Harconrt.
nipiilly pushing his way to fame; John Hright. with his eyes undimmed and the natural force
of hi* eliM|iience yet unabated; and Mr. W. K. Footer, the hero of the education s.ett lenient.
•whose rugged rhetoric had a certain power of charm not always exerc-ised by th<> polished
flights of more brilliant orators. Amount .the younger men were two defined to cut a con.-ider-
able figure u\ton the political stage in succeeding decades. These were Lord Randolph
Churchill, who entered the House as member for the family borough of Woodcock, and Mr.
Arthur Halfotir. the present Premier, who sit in Parliament for the first time in 1874 as member
for Hertford. Also as members of the popu-
lar chamber at the time that Disraeli took
his farewell of it were Charles Stewart I'ar-
nell, the great Irish Leader, who had been
elected as member for Meat h in the previous
year; and Mr. Jo.-eph Chamberlain, whose
election for Birmingham had only taken place
two or three months prior to the Conserva-
tive Premier's transfer to the Upper House.
Whether regarded from the standpoint of
matured statesmanship or from that of latent
talent, tin- assembly was above the average.
The hi>tory of the Victorian Parlia-
ments from the period that Disraeli disa|>-
peared from the scene is too recent, and
touches too many acutely controversial
questions to be dealt with in any detail in
a work such as this. It will suffice for our
purpose to draw attention to some of the
more picturesque facts and incidents which
diMingnished the career of Parliament in
the la>t quarter of a century of the late
(Jin-en's reign. leaving to the serious
hiMorian the more onerous and iv>]K>nsible
task of recording the precise course of event >
and passing judgment ujwn the actors on
the political stage.
One striking feature of the period which
may properly be alluded to i> the rise and
development of working-class representation.
Froiii a photo ly tlic LonJa* Sttivoicopic Co. ,!.'•'.
MB. THOMAS IH'HT, M.I-.,
The Drat fraulnc working-man repinenutit o to be returned to the Hotue
of Cuumon*.
90S
3 H r
»;•!
|i|
f •" °
It i
2 r
H. o
| g
' H
— 3
505
64
506
Parliament Past and Present
Until this juncture in the life of
Parliament the Mouse of Commons
had never included within its ranks
a genuine working man sent to
Parliament by working-class voters
to specially represent their interests.
The nearest approach to such repre-
sentatives were men like Cobbett,
who, though their political aspira-
tions and social sentiments were
entirely democratic, could yet not
claim to be what the modern Labour
representatives are. The pioneer of
this new class of legislator was Mr.
Thomas Hurt, who in 1874 was
elected as member for Morpeth. In
his younger clays Mr. Burt worked
in a coal mine, undergoing all the
hardships and sharing all the dangers
inseparable from the miner's life.
A thoughtful, studious lad, endowed
with no common share of intelli-
gence, and a considerable fund : of
his native northern shrewdness, he
speedily made his way to a position
of influence amongst his fellows, and
Jinally became in a real sense their
leader. His return to Parliament
was a great achievement, honourable
alike to himself and to those who
sent him to Westminster. It was
also in the nature of an experiment.
and as such was somewhat clpsely
and anxiously watched by thoughtful men all over the country. But whatever misgivings
may have been entertained at the outset, they were speedily dissipated by the member's
career in Parliament. His quiet, unassuming demeanour, his zeal for the public good, and
his restrained and reasoned oratory, won for him hosts of friends and well-wishers amoug-t
all iiarties. Such were his qualities that when, in 1890, the German Emperor convened
a Labour Conference at Berlin, he was with general approval selected as one of the British
delegation. An even greater tribute was paid him two years later, when he was appointed
a member of the Government, and as Parliamentary Secretary to the Board of Trade took
his seat on the Treasury Bench amid cheers from all parts of the House. Mr. Burt found
what others had discovered before him, that lowly birth was no bar to goodwill — or, to u-e
his own stronger words, that "probably there is no place in the world where social ]>osition
counts for l.-ss than in the British House of Commons. It may be unfair in its judgment
of a man, but it never measures him by a mean standard. It e.-timates him by, his
character and ability, not by the extent of his posses-ion>. and cares just as little for a
pea-ant as for a lord. The same cannot be said with equal truth of any other assemblage of
Englishmen." '
In 1880 Mr. Burt was reinforced by several other working-men representatives, the most
conspicuous of whom was Mr. Henry Broadhurst, who, beginning life as a stonemason, been
1 Article in Contemporary Hi-view, 1889.
MR. JOHN ItfllNS, SI. P.,
Member for Battenn ; one of the best known and nblest representatives of Labour
iu the Honati of Commons.-
The Victorian Parliaments
507
Parliamentary Secretary of the Trades Union
Council, and, through the influence of that
organisation and by virtue of his own sturdy
abilities, was elected member for Stoke-upon-
Trent. Like Mr. Burt, Mr. Broadhurst
speedily made his way in the House, and
finally (in 1886) attained Ministerial rank,
filling the appointment of Under-Secretary
of the Home Department. At the present
time Mr. Broadhurst represents Leicester, by
which constituency he was first returned in
1894, in conjunction with Mr. Walter Hazell,
a large employer of labour — a happy con-
junction of interests, which proves that a
Labour candidature need not be conducted
on exclusive or selfish lines. Mr. Broad-
hurst's testimony, like that of Mr. Burt, is
warmly appreciative of the friendliness of the
House. Addressing a meeting at Stoke-upon-
J-ro)it a photo by Iknry A'cKir, Botr,
SIB MAXCHEKJEE MEBWANJEE BHOWNAGGBEE,
K.C.I.E.,
Member for North-East Bethnal Green, a distin-
guished Parsee who may bo regarded as the representative
of India in the Imperial Parliament.
From a, photo by the London Stereoscopic Co., Ltd.
THE 1UGHT HON. W. E. FOHSTEB,
A leading member of Gladstone's first anil second Administrations. The
introducer of the Education Act of 1870.
Trent in 1881, he said: "I entered the House without
wealth, influence, or friends other than my own class,
and no one could have been more courteously and
generously received than I have been, even by political
opponents. In the House of Commons it mattered not
what had been a man's position, nor what was the sphere
of life in which he moved; if he had anything to say
worth listening to, he was equal to the noblest and richest
in the assembly. Therefore working men, if they chose
to send to Parliament a representative from themselves,
might know that he would be received with as much
respect as if he was the son of a millionaire."
Mr. Joseph Arch, the representative of the agricul-
tural labouring class, and Mr. George Howell, a thought-
ful writer on Labour questions, are other prominent
sons of toil who have reinforced the green benches of
the House of Commons. But perhaps the most striking
figure of all which has been seen in the Parliamen-
tary Labour ranks is that of Mr. John Burns, the
member for Battersea. This gentleman has a strongly
marked individuality, which, if it were allied to less
shrewdness, might have long since made shipwreck of
his career in the popular chamber. But it is not without
reason that Mr. Burns has won for himself the title
of "the Statesman of Labour." He has a keen
508
Parliament Past and Present
appreciation of (he forces which
give the Ilini-e of Commons its
peculiar distinction amongst the
popular chambers of the world;
and he. in addition, possesses to
a marked extent the tact fulness
without which the most brilliant
talents are as naught there.
Thus equipped, he has gone
from one success to another, until
he occupies to-day a position of
influence and popularity which
many an older and — in a political
and social sense -a more influ-
ential politician might with good
reason envy. Though his views
may be extreme, they are felt to
be honestly held, and. as Mich.
are regarded with that tolerance
which the House invariably ex-
tends to the genuine outsjioken
expression of opinion, no matter
from what quarter it comes.
His vigorous rhetoric, marked as
it is by a certain epigrammatic
force and a broad humour, is
invariably received with good
temper; while on occasions, on
questions into which political
feeling does not enter, his co-
operation is actually-welcomed by
those opposed to him. In short,
he enjoys the general respect
and confidence of his fellow-members, and, to a modified extent, their sympathy.
While the Labour members have added to the ranks of legislators a new class, an even more
remarkable type of representative was returned to the House of Commons (in the later Victorian
Parliament sj in the Indian member. Milton, in his grandest imaginings of the future of "the
great and puissant nation," probably never contemplated that distant India would have at
Westminster natives of its populous soil to watch its interests in an Imperial Parliament.
Hut such was to be the case. In 1892 was returned to Parliament, as member for Central
Finslmry. .Mr. Dadabhai Naoroji, a member of the great Parsee community of Western India.
In his earlier days .Mr. Naoroji had been an official in a native state, but his greatest
reputation was made as a publicist in Bombay, where he for many years occupied a prominent
position as a private citizen. Though the chances of the electoral struggle rendered his
membership but a brief one, he was sufficiently long in the House to demonstrate that a
native of India, speaking with the authority which comes of popular election, could be very
valuable as the mouthpiece of educated native sentiment, even if he had no direct authority
to represent them. In the circumstances it was fortunate that the election which witnessed
.Mr. Naon.ji's rejection— that of 1895— should have marked the return for North-East Betlmal
Green of Mr. (now Sir) Mancherjee M. Hhownaggree, a co-religionist of his, and a gentleman
equally well equipped by training in public life for the role of • unaccredited "member for
India" in the Imperial Parliament. A journalist in early life, an official representative of an
CHARLES STEWABT PAIISELL,
The Iriah Nationalist leader ; a commanding flsrurv in the later Victorian Parliaments.
509
510
Parliament Past and Present
FIVM apkvtv tip l
CHAKI.KS P.I; MH. U <;ll.
Tlia KeuUrUt leader, wlioM return «« member foi Xorthanii>ton led to im
acriiuuniotu controverey relative tu the 1'iirlinnientary onth.
important native state, a barrister of Lin-
coln's Inn, and n public man of recognised
standing in India, he combined in liis person
qualifications which an- highly de>irahle in
a member of Parliament. In tbe llmi>e as
well as outr-ide it lie rapidly won liis way
to favour, and it \v;is with general satisfac-
tion that at the (ii-nenil Kleetion of 1900
he was once more retnnied. It is jiossible
that the future may have in store the
devising of some >y.-tem of Imperial repre-
sentation by whieh members may l>e directly
delegated from India. But whether this is
done or not, a picturesque intere.-t will
alwavs attach to the membership of these two
gentlemen, who wooed and won English con-
stituencies, and so unbarred the doors of the
Senate House to a community whose very exis-
tence was probably unknown to the members
of most of the earlier English Parliaments.
A>sociated with the subject of execjH
tional representation with which we have
been dealing is the question of the Parlia-
mentary oath. Nowadays it would be im-
possible for a man to be excluded from
Parlia-
ment on
account
of his religious belief, or his absence of religious belief.
But in past times, down to quite recent years, fierce con-
troversies have been waged around the question of the
admissibility of the administration of the oath to certain
j>ersons. One such struggle attended Daniel O'Connell's
admission to the House of Commons. The Liberator
was returned to Parliament as member for Clare in
1828, previous to the jwissing of the Catholic Emancipa-
tion Bill. Up to April, 1829, he had forborne, on the
advice of his friends, from making any effort to assert his
claim. But the Catholic Emancipation Bill having been
jiassed, he then decided to present himself in the House,
l>elieving that the Ministry of the day would not oppo>e
him. He had, however, reckoned without the hostility of
the King (George IV.), whose inveterate dislike to him
resulted in the adoption of measures tending to his ex-
clusion. Arrived at the Bar, the ordinary oath was tendered
to him, and on his refusing to take it, the House by
resolution decreed that his election was null and void.
O'Connell went over to Ireland, was immediately re-elected,
and, returning to Westminster, took his seat under the
provisions of the then recently passed Act, Although the
jiortals of Parliament were widened on the passing of the
Catholic Emanci|«tion Act, it was not until a later period
i/ i,"»i.
MIC UAI.rll A. GOSSBTT,
6«rgeant-at-Ariii» <if tlie llonw of Common, during
tin- llnidlaugh controvi-r-i.
The Victorian Parliaments
CHARLES BRADLAUGH AT THE BAR OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS CLAIMING THE KIGHT
TO MAKE AFFIRMATION OF ALLEGIANCE INSTEAD OF TAKING THE OATH.
that Jews were
allowed to sit and
vote in the House
of .Commons. In
1849 Baron Lionel
de Rothschild was
sent to the House
of Commons by the
City of London.
Waiting for two
years, the duly
elected member sat
below the Bar,
hoping a measure
of relief would be
passed ; but his
expectations being
disappointed, he
resigned his seat,
and was re-elected.
Considering this a
mandate from his
constituents to force
the matter upon
the attention of the
House, the hon. member presented himself at the table to be sworn, but on his objecting to
that portion of the oath of abjuration "on the true faith of a Christian," as not being binding
upon his conscience, the House refused to allow him to take his seat, and for seven years he
remained in name only a member, occupying a seat below the Bar, but without the right of
voting. It was different with Mr. Alderman Salomons, also a Jew. Elected for Greenwich in
1851, his position was on all fours with that of Baron Rothschild. He refused to take the
oath contrary to his conscience, but claimed his right to be an active member, and denying
the authority of the House to prevent him voting, he took his seat within the Bar and voted
in three divisions, and for doing so was proceeded against in the Exchequer Court and fined
£500. A measure was thereafter brought into Parliament dealing with the question and passed
into law, Baron de Rothschild being the first member to take advantage of the change.
In Parliament, as in other places, history repeats itself, and Mr. Bradlaugh, upon his
election for Northampton in 1880, found himself in a somewhat similar position to that of the
Jews thirty years previously — but with a difference r Mr. Bradlaugh presented himself at
the table and claimed the right to affirm instead of taking the oath, on the ground that
he had repeatedly done so in courts of law.. It was notorious that Mr. Bradlaugh was
a person without religious belief, and although the objection to allowing him to affirm was
of a technical nature — no provision for such a case existing — there was a strong feeling
against him on account of his heterodox opinions. Long and exciting debates took place
in relation to the matter, and violent scenes occurred in the House. On one occasion
Mr. Bradlaugh, denying the right of the House to exclude him, made his way to the table
and administered the oath to himself. Upon another occasion he endeavoured to force his
way into the House, and was removed by police-constables into Palace Yard.. He at one
period of the dispute was ordered into prison under the custody of the Sergeant-at-Arms ;
and so the matter went on. Never before in the memory of the oldest member or official
had such scenes taken place. The controversy was not finally settled until a new Parliament
met, when Mr. Bradlaugh was allowed to take the oath without interruption.
512
Parliament Past and Present
In the contest between the House and tin* iiH-inlx-r for Noithainpton. tlio
"Fourth Party," consisting of tin- late lx>rd Randolph Churchill, Mr. A. .1. I'alfour. Sir
II. Drununond Wolff, nud Sir John (Jorst. took a lending jiart. l-'n-e lances in tin- ]Kilititiil
arena, they harassed the Ciovcrnment with .Mr. <ilad>tone at its head; they attacked their own
frieiuU when it suited them to do so; and were eventually, to some extent, instrumental in
bringing nlxnit the defeat of the Liberal <inveriiiii<>nt- .Mr. Gladstone's second Administration.
Before this event occurred many stirring scenes were witnessed in the House, one of which
limy be recalled. In 1884 the House had met for an autumn session, \\ith the intention
of again jmssing the bill for extending the franchise to counties. The measure had got
through the Commons in the ordinary session, but had failed to receive the approval of the
House of Lords. Agitations had lieen carried on in the country, and public- meetings held
in various places, notably -at Birmingham, where a demonstration organised at Aston against
the measure had led to serious riots. Mr. Chamberlain was accused in various quarters of being
a party to the disorderly proceedings; and upon this occasion Lord Randolph Churchill
determined to bring the matter before the House. He charged Mr. Chamberlain, one of
her Majesty's Ministers, holding the high office of President of the Board of Trade, with an
incitement to interference with the freedom of public discussion, and with a justification of
riot and disorder. The House looked forward to a good crisp debate, Lord Randolph Churchill
having publicly announced that he intended to "draw the badger." The noble lord male the
most of his opportunity, bringing forward a general charge of complicity in the riotous
proceedings of the Birmingham Liberal Association, with which Mr. Chamberlain was connected,
and supporting it with allegations of
forged tickets of admission, of hired
ruffians to break up the meet ing of the
Conservatives, and of public speeches
of the Minister calculated toencourage
disorder. It was a formidable in-
dictment prepared with much care.
But Mr. Chamberlain was quite equal
to the occasion. He not only from
his point of view completely refuted
the charges against himself and his
supporters, but he turned the tables
upon his assailant by producing
sworn evidence of hirelings who had
been paid by the organisers of the
meeting to prevent by violence any
legitimate opposition being shown,
and to stifle the fret- expression of
opinion. As to the accusation of
making inflammatory speeches about
his opponents, he quoted Lord
Randolph Churchill's language when
addressing an audience. " I have,"
said Mr. Chamberlain, " culled a few
of the choice flowers of rhetoric that
are to be found in the speeches
of the noble lord. In my own
case he has described me as a
- pinchbeck Rol>espierre.' Well, I
\x\wx* Robespierre was by common
-• i • • 11 j
consent of his contemporaries called
fro* <t i>koto i,y ti,t
I...KI. ii.iMH.i.i-11
Co., Li-i.
CIIUBCHILL
hccrcUrr for Indi* in Lord Salisbury's flint, ami Chancellor of tbo Exchequer in bi«
d, Administration.
The Victorian Parliaments
513
IHIVII, of t ttt: Art 1'iiion oj' Loitiloiij'i'vui (/<>.<,• lat-'ie plat<! vf tli>: iHCttti-L bit D<i,i<tl.3Iactise, tt.A.
THE DUKE OF MAKLBOKOUGH AT BLENHEIM.
One of A series of jointings designed for the decoration of the new Houses of Parliament.
the ' incorruptible.' The historical memory of the noble lord can furnish him with the names
of some persons who are not entitled to that appellation."
The House enjoyed the cut-and-thrust duel between the two experts of debate, and loudly
cheered each telling retort. And so it was with many other oratorical encounters in which the
two chief actors in this incident were subsequently to figure, either with Gladstone as a third
party to the quarrel or as a mutual antagonist. It would not be proper, perhaps, to call it
the palmy period of Parliamentary fence ; but it unquestionably will compare in personal
interest with all but the most brilliant times in the modern life of the House of Commons.
How completely the scene was changed by the removal, .first of Lord Eandolph Churchill and
later of Gladstone, it is not necessary to relate. Nor need the stormy course of the Home
Kule movement, with its dramatic and even tragic interludes, and its momentous political
consequences, be traced. These are matters which are still fresh in the public recollection,
and in regard to which acute controversy still rages. Some future day, when the leading
actors still on the stage have passed away, the events will provide writers who are treating
of the life of the House of Commons with material for some chapters of absorbing interest,
and political philosophers with not a few facts upon which to build their theories of the
development of the forces which go to the making of history.
65
514
Parliament Past and Present
IVfore. however, final leave i- taken of the Victorian Parliament^ a reference seem- to be
demanded t«> tlie leading »>«•" "'"'• :lt the «'' 'f :l memorable era ill (he history of the
cotintrv. were forenn»t in tlie ranks of rnrliaiiientariaiis. Compared with (lie talent which
e\i-teil at Millie earlier periods ill the life of the llcill>e of ('oniliions, the fii i->.<i,tii<l of the two
Fn»nt Hem-lies when the twentieth century dawned was not remarkable. Hut it ha- its peculiar
elements of strength, anil time may yet show that the s^-niiis which constitutes the title of
the Parliamentarian to renown, like history, repeats it-elf. First to claim notice by right of
Ministerial rank, if not of intellectual pre-eminence, i- Mr. Arthur .la s Halfour, the pie-em
I'remier. In the roll of British Premiers there ia not one who-e career pre-ents more point -
of jM-i-Minal attraction than this distint,Mii.-hed statesman. As litterateur, philosopher, and
politician he lias in distinct walks of life built up for himself a jiosition of authority and
Mil. IS.U.I'OUIt'S ROOM AT THK Ho! si: or COMMONS.
It i« in thin «|K»rtmrot that the 1'trtiiicr iloe« the greater i»rt of hU arduous work during the time that Parliament Is sitting.
[Mipularity. while he has by a combination of qualities become a social force greater, perhaps.
than any of his predecessors in the hi^h olHce he now fills.
Mi Malfoiir's early Parliamentary t raining, as we ha\e seen, was in tlie rough and tumble
of the irregular Parliamentary warfare provided by (lie Fourth Party. As an important unit
of that historic quartette he practised himself in the arts of |«>litical controvci>y. throwing
hiniM-lf into the .-t niggle with a /est which sec-med to be foreign to his e(|iiable and ea>y-
going nature. In this fa>hion he acquired a readiness in debate and a self-contidence which
an- usually only for! lu-oming after many years of servitude in the l.egi.-lat ive Chamber.
Ad\anceiu« nt to Ministerial rank ca to him a> by ri,'lit of hard and str.'iiuoii> and sin-,-, — lul
exertion in the cold .-hades of Opposition. V.'heii Lord Salir-hury formed his Ministry in lv>~>.
lie \\a- choM-ii for the important office of President of the Local ( iovernmeiit Hoard. In this
jmsitioii, a- well ;.- iii the role of Vice-Pre-iileiit of the Scotch Kducation Department, to which
t'l'oni aphuto by (Ac Londotl Stircoicopic Co., Ltd.
THE BIGHT 1IOX ARTHUR JAMES BALFOUR.
President of the Local Government Board in 1885-86 ; Secretary for Scotland, 1886-87 ; Chief Secretary for Ireland, 1SS7-91 ; First Lord of the
Treasury and Leader of the House of Commons, H'Ol ; Prime Minister, 1902.
515
516
Parliament Past and Present
. n j'l,»to !•?' tlir Loii"' i /./</.
TUB ltI(;HT IIOX. W1M.IASI IIKNKY SMITH,
Leader of the lloune of Commons for tcveral yean*.
appointment, on Mr. W. H. Smith's death
in 1891, as First Lord of the Treasury and
Leader of the House of Commons. .Mr.
Balfour's rise to these coveted posts — the
highest save one OJK'U to the aspiring
member of the Hou-e of Commons — was so
e.\c-e|itionally rapid that there were some
misgivings even amongst the riglit honour-
able gentleman's friends at the promotion.
thoroughly deserve •<! though it was. But he
speedily sliowed that the feeling was without
ju-t itication. His handling of the Hou-e
indicated bow completely he had mastered the
art of Parliamentary direction. Firm and
yet conciliator}', he piloted his way dexter-
ously through the shoals which thickly be-
.-tre\v the course of the Leader of the House.
Some who presumed on his inexperience
quickly discovered that they had made a
mi-take, and tliat beneath the placid, bland
exterior were fires which, if the blast were
applied, would hurst forth with consuming
fury. Where Mr. Kdfour showed himself
weakest, perhaps, was in his manage nt
of legislation. Hi.- constitutional antipathy
to detail occasionally led him into difficult
he was appointed on the formation of Lord
Salisbury's second Ministry in 1886, he
justified the confidence repowd in him. Hut
his great opportunity, of course, did not
come until 1SS7. when he was called upon
to till the post of Chief Secretary for Ireland
in one of the most stirring epochs of
Ireland's chequered history. How in that
capacity he fought against powerful and
resolute adversaries a j>olitical battle such
as hardly any English Minister had e\.-r
before been called UJMHI to tight — how after
many checks and disappointments, and some
humiliations, he eventually emerged tin-
victor — does not need to be told here. \l\-
administration of the Irish Office was by
general consent one of the most brilliant
feats in domestic statesmanship that a young
and largely untried Minister had. in the
long course of Parliamentary history, been
able to place to his account.
The reward for the eminent services
rendered was appropriately handsome. It
took the form of the Chief Secretary's
the painting by AViri.t Luny, fi. A., i<i f/ 'falltry.
SIR STAFFORD I1KXKV NOUTHCOTi:, FIRST KAIlt,
OF inm;si.i.ic;ii.
The popular tUteraian wlio from 1876 to 1885 led the Conservative party
in tin- HOUHU (if Commons.
From a photo by Lambert W'wton & Hon, Folkestone.
ROBERT ARTHUR TALBOT GASCOYNE CECIL, THIRD MARQUIS OF SALISBURY, K.tt.
A recent photograph of the eminent statesman.
517
Parliament Past and Present
situations. lie did not alway- adequately realise at the moment how much dependi d
some apjarently trivial matter under discussion. P.ut if he made mi-takes, he showed
consummate skill in remedying them. Often when his political opponents have congratulated
thcm-ehcs on ha\ing fairly entrapped him, he has sailed off with tlyiiiu' colours, thanks to an
intuithe |«-rception of the point where the position was weake-t.
Mr. M-df.-ur's tactical skill is reinforced by splendid debating |K.wcrs. V.'hile hi- style
is pleasing and his matter refined, he jiosses-es to a full degree the robust er qualities
which are e-sential to successful Parliamentary oratory. He is always at his best when he is
on liis defence. Then the latent pugnacious element in his nature bursts out. and lie becomes
transformed by the force of his own jtiission. The stimulus applied by t lie ringing cheer- of his
-up|«>rters helps him forward. One telling point is made after another; deadly thrusts follow
in rapid sueee--ion. He alternately slashes and pulverises his opponents until they are left
Mil. CIIAJIllKKl.AIN's HOOM AT Till: llnrsi: 111' Cci.MMnNS.
Our of a cnite of ainrtmenU in t I..M- i>inxin:ity to the Legislative Chambsr out niuirt for the UM of MtniAteri.
limp and helpless, with scarcely breath sufficient to protest against the castigation. Strenuous
:i- Mr. rallour is at these times, he never oversteps the bounds of courtesy. There is no
Minister of modern times who has shown more scrupulous deference to the canon- of -ood
ta-te. or who has in all his relations with political friend and foe displayed better feeling.
For this reason he enjovs a per.-onal popularity of a very striking kind. The tribute recently
paid to him. with the cordial approval of his followers, by the Leader of the ()pjK)>ition >ir
Henry Campbell-Banoerman— OH Mr. 1'alfour's tir-t a|>pearance ill the House of Commons after
his elevation to the Premiership, was a testimony to the singular regard in which he is held.
Such a demonstr.it ion was almost unique in the annals of Parliament. It will prohahlv be
many years before it is repeated under analagous circumstances.
Kveii more remarkable in its way than the influence which Mr. Mai four exercises in the
Iloii-e of Common- is the power over the assembly po--e--cd by his colleague, Mr. Joseph
Till: KIGHT HOX. JOSEPH CHAMBKKLAIX, L.L.D., D.C.L., SECRETARY OF STATE FOR THE COLONIES.
From a photograph specially taken at the House of Commons by Sir Benjamin Stone, II. P., immediately after the terms of surrender of the
Boer forces, and of the consequent close of the South African war, were announced in the House.
519
520
Parliament Past and Present
Chamberlain. the Colonial Secretary. Where
the Prime .Minister has conquered by en-
gaging personal qualities wedded to brilliant
intellectual attainments, his friend and co-
iuljiitur ha> succeeded by the sheer force of
a master mind acting in the face of the
mo-t unsympathetic, and occasionally anti-
pathetic. iiilliiences. lie has gone to tin-
front because of the prejudices against him
rather than by reason of any personal feeling
in his favour. The careers of few Mate-men
supply a more instructive study. Entering
Parliament in 187G, as far as Imperial
politics were concerned a practically mi-
known man, he became within less than
four years a member of the Cabinet.
I sually the way to the charmed circle of
Ministers, even for those whose progress i-
smoothed by high birth or powerful intere.-t.
is only to be found through a succession 'of
subordinate positions, and after a long and
arduous Parliamentary training. For ex-
ample, the elder Pitt was eleven ye;;
We-t minster before he became a Cabinet
Minister, Canning fourteen years. Peel thir-
teen years, Disraeli fifteen years, and Pal-
merston as many as twenty-one year-. It
we take the careers of statesmen of the
present era, Mr. Chamberlain's rise appears
not less startling. Mr. Gladstone had been
thirteen years in Parliament before he entered
the Cabinet ; Mr. Balfour's period of political apprenticeship was almost as protracted, extending
from the time of his election for Hertford in 1874 until his appointment as Secretary for
Scotland in 1886. The career of Mr. Asquith supplies the nearest parallel to that of Mr.
Chamberlain amongst hia contemporaries ; but the right
honourable gentleman was six years a member before
he entered the Cabinet, again-l the four years' probation
of the Colonial Secretary. In point of fact, Mr.
Chamberlain's advance to the front rank of statesmen
is only out rivalled by that of the younger Pitt, who,
within a little over a year of his election for Appleby,
became, on July Cth, 1782, when at the age of only
twenty-three, Chancellor of the Kxchoquer.
Faults of temper of a very grave kind are often
attributed to Mr. Chamberlain, and doubtless his dis-
position is not of the sweetest ; but he is far from
being the character that he is painted by some of
those opposed to him. A quality which he has con-
spicuously shown throughout his career is unfaltering fmu a «i-f<cA
loyalty to his friends. It has never been said of L0un SALISBUHV.
him, as it has of Other prominent Statesmen, that he one 01 the arti.fi clever caricature* of the Con»erv»tiv»
has used men as stepping-stones to power, and kicked
ltltOlobll <l« I'M.''.,: M. , "I./." -I./I.V Co., II''.
1.0HI) KrsSELI. OK K1LL.OWKX,
Who (u Sir rbarlcs KnaMll) played a txnu|iiciu>iiH i«it in tho jxditical
hiatory of the last quarter of the nineteenth century.
Ward.
The Victorian Parliaments
521
them over when they had served his
ends. The accusation, indeed, has
been the other way — that he has been
unduly solicitous of the fortunes of
those who, in the days when the
future seemed dark, stood by him.
It is an honourable charge, and one
which shows at least that the Colonial
Secretary is not selfish and unsym-
pathetic, as he has occasionally been
depicted. In point of fact, Mr.
Chamberlain, though outwardly a some-
what hard man, is by no means lack-
ing in sentiment. No personal incident
in his later Parliamentary career is
better remembered than his display
of emotion on the interesting occasion
of the maiden speech of his son, Mr.
Austen Chamberlain. The inner man
peeped out then in a fashion which
clearly indicated that behind that calm,
business-like exterior was a personality
as human as of the best or the
weakest of his colleagues.
As a debater Mr. Chamberlain
enjoys a greater reputation than any
living statesman. The House never
fills so readily as it does for him.
The intimation that " Chamberlain is
up" always suffices, whatever may be
the occasion, to bring members swarm-
ing into the Legislative Chamber from
the Lobby, smoking-rooms, the Library,
the Terrace — in short, from all places
to which the average legislator is
accustomed to retire to escape the
SIR CHARLES FBEDEUICK HA.MOND, JI.P., AGED 81.
The oldest number of tho House of Commons. From a photograph by his friend
Sir Benjamin Stone, M.P., taken on the Terrace, July, 1899.
boredom inflicted by prosy orators.
And Mr. Chamberlain not only attracts an audience ; he holds it — which, perhaps, is an
even greater testimony to his ability, for there is no more fastidious and exacting body
than the House of Commons. To win its approval the rarest qualities are needed. Mere
rhetorical power is not sufficient. Every member of the assembly is a public speaker himself,
and a proper scorn is felt for those little devices which go to' make up the equipment of
the platform orator. The elaborately prepared speech, bristling with carefully-thought-out
"impromptus," the profound philosophical disquisition with its ostentatious parade of academic
learning, the fiery oration, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing — all these various styles
of utterance, which are so effective in other walks of life, are absolutely wasted in the House of
Commons. What members appreciate above all things is a lucid, business-like statement,
illumined, it may be, by flashes of wit or a pretty play of fancy, but never degenerating into
mere rhetoric. It is because Mr. Chamberlain's contributions to debate have precisely these
qualities that he has made the success he has clone. When he intervenes in debate it can be
confidently reckoned that he will speak very much to the point, and set out in orderly array
the most powerful arguments that can be used against his opponents. His readiness and
66
522
Parliament Past and Present
From a tl-ftcl, >,„ E. T. /.'•••'.
silt W1I.I.IAM HAIICorilT.
retoun-efuliiess are proverbial. Aizaiu and atrain on some im|H>rtant
iN-c.i-imi when the subject has been complicated and abstruse he
ha- U-cn known to jump to hi- legs ami with only a few iugithc
notes contained on a .-ingle sheet of notejiaper launch into n
brilliant sjieech of an hour's duration, in which, while he has
analysed with mercile-- force the contentions put forward just
previously from the npjiosile side of the llou-c. he has presented in
telling fashion the views of his own party. Those interjections of
inconvenient "voices," which at times throw even the most able
sjionkers off their balance, seem, in hi- ca-e. only to stimulate t IK-
HOW of his oratory. With lightning rapidity he is down on the
interrupter, and he worries him as a terrier does a rat until he
has h-li him limp and silent, and only too glad to allow the
s|>eaker to resume the thread of his argument.
This intellectual nimbleness of Mr. Chamberlain, if effective at St. Stephen'.-, is doubly
soin the country, where the less astute and less informed character of his audience- gi\es him
a wider field for its exercise. Mr. Chamlx-rlain's extreme readiness in this respect has yixeu
rise to a charge of dialectical trickery. It is averred that he deliberately prepare- for these inter-
ruptions, and that what outwardlv appears a sudden inspiration prompted by the circumstances
of the moment is in reality the fruits of a carefully laid plot to which he has de\oted much
previous thought. Possibly there is some ground for this allegation; but, even so. the ]K.-ition
of Mr. Chamberlain as a speaker is left unaffected. If the great aim of oratory is to impress
the hearer with the strength of the speaker's.
cause and the weakness of his oppono
as we take it to be, it matters little by what
means that aim is achieved. In political
warfare, as in the region of military action,
tactics have their place, and to condemn a
speaker because he is an adept in leading
his opponents into an impasse in which he
can fall upon them with ease and elV.-ct. i-
akin to quarrelling with tin- generalship of
a great military captain who is successful in
planning ambuscades. If Mr. Chamberlain's
speeches are eminently successful in the
manner of tlieir delivery, they are not |<
striking in substance. One of the lessons
acquired in his Edgbaston days was to
thoroughly master a subject before speaking
upon it, and this he has never forgotten.
Whatever the topic may be. Mr. Chamberlain
is ready with his facts. As a cmi-ec|uence
he is rarely caught tripping. Occasionally
it has happened in debate that when he has
made a more than ordinarily effective point
some incautious opponent has challenged him
for his authority, and it has almost invariably
been forthcoming, not seldom under circum-
stances which have brought confusion U]>on the
rash intervenes Take him for all in all. Mr.
Chamberlain is perhaps one of the greatest
debaters that the House has ever known.
From a 7>»ofo tjr Ikt lamltH fltititteapif Co., Lli.
TIIK HKillT HOX. JOHN MOHI.KY,
Irtah SwnUry ID Mr. GUdrtooe'. IBM ami 1892 AdmlnUtratloiu, ami alx>
in Lord Knobetj'i Administration.
From a photo by the London. Stereoscopic Co., Lt<l.
THK RIGHT HON. WILLIAM EWART GLADSTONE.
The eminent statesman is here represented in the evening of his days — in the period
during which he was familiarly and affectionately known as " The Grand Old Man."
523
524
Parliament Past and Present
Another figure which has filled a great
place ill (lie jxipular a>semhlv ill the later
Victorian Parliaments is tliat of Sir William
Vernon llarcourt. This eminent .-talesman
has. perhaps, been more concerned than any
other man living with the threat movements
which have gone to make jHilitical hi>t.>ry
in the InM quarter of a century. The
intimate and faithful henehinan of .Mr. (ilad-
stone. the strenuous political leaili-r ever in
the heat of the fray, he has made for him-
self a position of peculiar distinction amount
the public men of his time. In years, a- in
{xditical experience, he is the senior of every
one of his leading contemporaries in tin-
House of Commons, with the exception of
Sir Michael Hicks-Headi. He is, in fact,
almost the only conspicuous survival of tin-
old school of statesmen of which (ihnl-tone
and Keaeonsfield were distinguished repre-
sentatives. Nor is his association with the
politicians of the past merely a matter of age
and political connections. His mode- ..I
thought and his methods of oratory are tln»e
of a bygone Parliamentary era. He is one
of the very few speakers who hazard a Lit in
quotation. The fine ora mln /nlo style of
declamation once so much favoured by eminent
speakers in the House of Commons still
finds in him an exponent. He has the same
love of persiflage which characterised the
delates in the popular chamber a half-century ago. In fine, while everything almo-t has
changed in the House of Commons in the last generation, Sir William Harcourt adheres to the
traditions and principles which governed the life of the House when he entered it as member
for Oxford in 1868, before the flood of Reform had swept in a new class of members.
As In-lit s one who obtained his early oratorical inspiration from the Titanic combats
between Disraeli and (ilaiUtoiie, Sir William Harcourt is above all things a good fighter.
He has the rollicking love of the Irishman for the fray, and quite the Irishman's capacity for
dealing and receiving hard knocks. His partisanship is so thorough-going that he is some! i s
led into difficult positions; but his adroitness in retrieving a blunder amounts almost to genius.
Very rarely, when the odds have to be reckoned up, is he found at a disadvantage. Though
Sir William llarcourt never minces his language, and does not measure the blows which he
delivers, he is personally a prime favourite with the House. His buoyant humour, his keen
enjoyment of a rough-and-tumble fight, and his complete freedom from bitterness or the petty
vice.- of the jNilitician, commend him to an assembly which loves, above all things, to be
interested and amused. For an out-and-out parti>an. as Sir William Harcourt confessedly is,
he oceupie- a ]Ni-itioii such as has rarely been held by a prominent statesman.
Another favourite ummigst the political leaders in the House of Commons of to-day is
Mr. .John Morh-y. Though his views on the great questions that are uppermost are strongly
at variance with the prevailing current of jwlitical thought in the House, there is no one who
is listened to with greater respect, or for whom a keener admiration is felt. The literary
graces with which he clothes his speeches lend them a distinction of an uncommon kind.
c t'o.t Lt<l.
THK RH;HT HON. SIR HENUY H. FOWLER,
financial Secretary in the Trnunry mil 1'rwident of (lie Local
(i<»rrnmcnt Ilnartl under Mr. Uladttane, and Secretary for India in Lord
K—rberjr'. Ailni inUtraUan.
from a photo by Elliott ifc Fry, Baker Stml, II'.
THE KIGHT HON. SIR WILLIAM VERNON HAKCOURT,
Solicitor-General in 1873-74 ; Home Secretary, 1880-85 ; and Chancellor of the Exchequer, 1885-86 and 1892-95.
525
526
Parliament Past and Present
Hut wltnt gives him his ascendency i< the transparent sincciity of his convictions and the utter
absence of anything approaching self-seeking in his actions. His is a jK-rsonaliiy siitlieient ly
unfamiliar on the political stage 1" win tin- tribute of an extended homage. hVmarkable,
however.au is the jioMtion Mr. .Morleyticcujiies.it cannot he said that his career in the House
of Commons has lieen a success in a Parliamentary sense. In debate, he has shown great
intellectuul ability ami a complete grasp of his subject. Hut there has, for the most part, been
wanting in his utterances that mental dexterity and. perhaps, jiolitical adaptability which are
e-M-ntial to a thorough-going triumjih in the House of Commons. V.'here the duties of leader-
ship have devolved upon .Mr. Morley. his weaknesses have been particularly conspicuous. He
has displayed a want of touch with the realities of the situation which has detracted from his
authority and given to his direction of att'airs a feebleness incompatible with MICCCSS. Still.
his reputation a> a Parliamentarian stands higher than that of any distinguished literary man
who has occupied a seat in the House, with the sole exception, perhaps, of Macaulav.
Of quite a dim-rent type from Mr. .Morley is Sir Michael Hicks-Beach, who now for many
years has held a leading jMisition in the House. As a representative of the landed interest he
sit a* a supporter of Mr. Disraeli as far back as 1864. His political ideals are for the most
part those of the period of Conservative ascendency which followed shortly afterwards. A man
of strong practical bent of mind,
lie has no sympathy with the
sentimental or philosophical order
of politics. He has n scorn for
subterfuges and half measures, and
is no believer in the notion that
language was given to conceal
thoughts. He is. in fine, just a
plain country gentleman of the
old school, with his political lean-
ings and personal predilections.
With an official experience extend-
ing back to 186H and embracing
the Chief Secretaryship for Ireland,
the Presidency of the Poor Law
P.oard, the Presidency of the Board
of Trade, the Colonial Secretaryship,
the Chancellorship of the Ex-
chequer, and the Leadership of
the House, Sir .Michael Hicks-
Beach could not fail to wield a
considerable authority over his
brother members. But his position
does not rest alone on his past
record. The House likes his tine
straight-forward character. his
hatred of shams, his contempt for
truckling, and, if the truth must
be told, it has a sneaking admira-
tion for that sharpness of tongue
by which he is accustomed to
flavour his sentiments. Its parti-
aljt,,? no doubt, is of a rather
sin IIKVIAVIX STOXK. M.r. KOK EAST HII:\IIM;FIAM. . . , ,
A ,. ,.-,Ur polKlri... « I.— lefun, b» Wn <«U|.i«l In .taring a r.m,|.le«, |,I,,,togr.,,Mc CT' '
record of th» Ptltat of WotmiuUr «ml other nation*! building*. plljiil for the r-ehoolma.-t er who
from Ikijamottt ficture In Mi '. / < !«//«. R A.
WILLIAM KWAKT GLADSTONK.
TlM IIIuMou BUtonun who loot lim™ «rrrnl UK oOn at Pramter, ud who. dylni on >i«r 19, IfW, WM burie.1 ID WMtmlnitrr Abber oo M»y X followint.
The Victorian Parliaments
527
is "a benst, but a just beast." But
of its strength and universality there
is no sort of question.
• No survey of the great Parlia-
mentary leaders of the close of the
Victorian era would be complete
which did not include the present
Duke of Devonshire. Though as a
member of the Peers' Chamber his
Grace was in the closing years of
the late Queen's life withdrawn from
the thick of the political fray, he
fixed an indelible mark on the work
and life of the Victorian period.
Not only has he filled all but the
highest position in the State, but
even the highest might have been
his had he listened merely to the
promptings of ambition. Moreover,
his name is imperishably associated,
as leader, with one of the mightiest
political convulsions recorded in the
annals of the country. Many and
varying are the estimates which
have been formed of his statesman-
ship. But political friend and foe
alike are agreed in yielding to him
the attributes of a high-minded
and patriotic public man. Even
when the wisdom of the policv he
lias pursued has been most fiercely
assailed, calumny has never whispered
a suggestion that his course has been
directed by other than the purest
motives. The great position which
his Grace has attained to is due to
these eminent personal qualities quite
as much as to any special aptitude for
high political affairs. There is, indeed, hardly an instance in modern times in which a statesman
of the first rank has achieved that position with less showy talents. His Grace lacks all the
requisites of a great orator. His style is cold and unemotional, his utterance at times almost
indistinct, and the matter of his speeches unadorned with any literary, grace. He is just a
plain, common-sense Englishman, who has a straightforward story to tell, and scorns to stoop to
any artifice to enforce its lessons. Still, though not brilliant in the common acceptation of
the term, the Duke of Devonshire, or the Marquis of Hartington (as he then was), was a great
power in the House of Commons during the thirty-four years he sat there. His fine
practical genius was. seen at its best in the trying times which followed Mr. Gladstone's retire-
ment in 1875, when, as the Liberal leader, he had to keep together a beaten and dispirited
party, conscious at all times of the presence on his flank of a vigilant and impetuous guardian
of Liberal traditions, who might at any moment intervene, and by so doing fatally undermine
his authority. The cleverness of Lord Hartington's leadership during this period, there can be
no doubt, paved the way for the great triumph of the Liberal cause at the polls' in 1880.
!•',-:, in tin ./A;,*-;,;,; /„, si? John Tenniel, pu'tliilied in " Punch," Auffust 2T(/i, 1SS1,
by permission of Mean. Bradbury, Agnew A: Co., Ltd.
. " OUT OF THE WOOD."
A great cartoon symbolising the triumph achieved by Mr. Gladstone in the passing
of the Irish Land Act.
528
Parliament Past and Present
Parliament has known many more
brilliant figures, hut it has rarely,
if ever, been acquainted with one
more nn-elti-h or less marked by
tin- ignohler feat nn- of -i at. --man-hip.
Tin- Leader of the Opposition,
Sir Henry < 'amphell-Hiumerman. tills
by virtue of his abilities as well as
by right of ]M)>itiou a conspicuous
]>laee in the records of the later
Victorian Parliaments His talents
are more solid than showy, and
political accident quite as much as
strength of character lias put him at
the head of the forces of Liberalism
in the llou-e. Nevertheless, he has
won the title to rank high in the
roll of eminent men who at different
times have led the forces of Op]K»i-
tion in the popular chamber. Astute-
ne-- in political strategy ha- 1 n
his strong point. Often with limited
resources and under discouraging
conditions he has won political suc-
cesses of no insignificant kind. It
ha- been his misfortune to occupy
the Leadership at a period when
events have torn his party with
dissension, and the necessity of re-
conciling the interests of oppo-ing
sect ions has given to hi- pronounce-
ments a want of decision, and oc-
casionally a contradict oriness which
has excited sharp criticism. But he
does not lack genius for direction.
and under happier conditions 1 it-
would probably make as bold a leader as the best of his predecessors. In his relations with
his op]Minents he has carefully maintained the honourable traditions which have -ro\\n up
about the Ix-adership of the Op|>osition. Nothing could have hern happier or in better taste
than the graceful tribute to .Mr. Hulfour previously referred to— a tribute which extracted from
the foreign IVe-s an expression of envious admiration.
Amongst Sir Henry CampbeU-BftDnennan'a immediate a-sociales calling for special reference
an Mr. Asquith. Sir Henry Fowler, and Sir Edward (Jivy. The lirst-named lias perhaps hail
the most interesting career of the trio. Singularly enough, he owed his admission to the front
rank of |mliticians to a purely legal achievement. As a junior counsel for the defence in the
1'arnell Commission it fell to his lot to cross-examine one of the principal witnesses for the
prosecution, and he performed his work with such cleverness that public attention was fastened
\i[x>n him, and from that time forward his path, both professional and political, was ea-y.
Mr. Gladstone, with a keen appreciation of the value of new blood, appointed him Home
Secretary when he formed his Administration in 189->, and on Lord Rosebery's accession to
power he was continued in the office. His administration was, a marked success — firm, yet
conciliatory, and energetic without trace of fussiness. In his handling of a particularly critical
From a ji»o/o by JJavll .<• Fox.
TIIK RK;HT HOS. WILLIAM ST. JOHN- FKKMANTLK UKOUUICK,
A riling itatfmun who filled the office of Secretary for War during the greater jiart of
the Soiltll African War period.
From a photo by J. Jtusseli £ Sons, Baker Street, W.
THE RIGHT HON. SPENCER COMPTON CAVENDISH, EIGHTH DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE, K.G.
The Liberal Unionist Leader who, as Marquis of Hartington, sat in the House of Commons from 1S57 to 1891. He led the Liberal
party from 1875 to 1S80 and at different times. Has filled the offices of Secretary for War, Postmaster-General, Secretary for India,
and Lord President of the Council.
529
67
530
Parliament Past and Present
situation develojicd at tin- mining district of
Feathers-tone by sonic strike riol s lie evinced
-tate-manlike qualities of the highest kiml.
It is rather \<y virtue of his services rendered
in tliis capacity tlian by his jM-rf'orinance- mi
the floor ot tin- House that he lias secured
the eminent position he <>ecu|>ic-. Hi- style
is n little too forensic for the taste of the
member-. His manner, moreover, lacks the
lire which is looked for in the ]>opular
Parliamentary orator. Nevertheh s% he lias tin-
ear of the House to a Haltering decree, and
his reputation as 8 debater i- steadily rMiiL.'.
In some respects Sir Henry Fowler re-
sembles .Mr. Asquith. A hard-headed, un-
emotional man, steeped in law. the intricacies
of which, as a family solicitor, he is
thoroughly acquainted with, he impr.--- e- by
weight rather than the brilliancy of his
talents. He is the •• safe man " of his j>arty.
Whoever may be guilty of political indi-cre-
tion or extravagance, he can always be relied
on to take and maintain a level view of
things. As President of the Local (iovcrn-
ment Board, and later as Secretary for India
in Ixml li'isehery's Administration, he di--
played consummate tact and judgment, and
won the respect of men of all parties by
liis broad-minded way of treating questions
which came before him for solution. Oratory
is not his forte, but he has few equals in the House in making a lucid and business-like state-
ment (Hi a complicated question of policy. One or two of his speeches delivered during his
tenure of the Indinn Secret ar\ >hip are amongst the finest .Ministerial expositions of Indian policy
ever made in the House. On the whole there are few Parliamentary leaders who are more
trusted by the great mass of business men than Sir Henry Kowler.
In a different sphere Sir Kdward (i rev. the last of the trio named, enjoys a similar measure
of confidence. His special province is foreign affairs, to the study of which he has brought a
keen intellect and a vigorous and comprehensive understanding. Trained under Lord Uoscbery.
one of the ablest of the Victorian Foreign Secretaries, he has developed into an expert
authority on all questions bearing upon the external relations of the country. Hi- statesman-
like utterances, breathing as they do the spirit of responsibility, are listened to with respectful
attention in the House, and they do not pass unnoticed in the Chancelleries of Kurope. Few
politicians in recent times have, in fact, obtained a more enviable position as an authority on
foreign alf.iiis than Sir Kdward <!rey. It is not. however, in this capacity alone that the
young luiroiiet has made his Parliamentary reputation. In the discussion of general politics
he has manifested an ability of no common kind. An incisive and ready speaker, thoroughly
well informed on all questions, and possessing all the advantages which attach to a plea-ing
presence, he ranks amongst the best debaters in the House. The widespread impre— i,
lie will go far and accomplish much if he can conquer a certain easiness of disposition which
prevents him at times from making the most of his opportunities.
Two other Comparatively/ young politicians in the front rank who must be mentioned are
the Hon. Win. St. John F. Brodrick and Mr. George Wyndham. Both have won their way
fnm n fltulo f.ji Iht London Klntatnpic CO.,
THK l:l«;HT HON. lir.l:l!i:l!T HKXIIY ASQI'ITH,
lioa.e Secretary in Mr. (ibulrtone'n last Administration, and in the
AdiuinUtration "' !•""! R<*el>erjr
I'.-oiti a photo by the London Stereoscopic Co., Ltd.
THE RIGHT HON. SIR HENRY CAMPBELL-BANXER51AX, G.C.B.,
Financial Secretary to the War Office, 1871-74 and 1SSO-S2 ; Secretary to the Admiralty, 1S82-S4 ; Chief Secretary for Ireland, 18S4-S5 ; Secretary
for War in 1SS6 and from 1892-95 ; Leader of the Opposition.
531
532
Parliament Past and Present
From a itrtek by P. Om-ufVn OoulJ.
TIIK LATE SIR JOHN MACI.l l:i.
("The Whitohead Torpedo"). A clerer caricature of a familiar figure in
the later V ictorian Parliament*
to Cabinet portion- nt what nowadays nui>t
N- regarded as an early age; Uitli have held
executive |M»ition> at a JNTJIM! of c\ce|i-
tional stress ami difficulty. -Mr. Hrodrick
i IK- advantage of seniority, liorn in
In- riitfivtl tin- llon-e a< memlter for
We-t Suney in issu. while Mr. Wyndham
did not come into the world until ISli:;.
and In' was not seen in tin- llon>e until
when In- \\.-i- returned for Dover. In
an official sense, however, the seniority is
more a|i|>areni tlian real, for though .Mr.
Hrodriek was a])|Hiinted Financial Secietary
to the War Otlice in 18HI1. .Mr. Wyndham
as early as 1887 formed an official connec-
tion by accept in ir an ai>]M>intment as chief secretary to Mr. Rilfotir. then Chief Secretary for
Ireland. Mr. Urodriek earned his promotion to the important office of \Var Secretary, to
which he was appointed on the formation of Lord Salisbury's thinl AdminiM ration, by a long
|»Tic«l of probation in sulxirdinate positions; but the more immediate cause of his good
fortune, it may lie presumed, was the conspicuous part he played in exploding the famous
cordite charge which blew up Lord Kosebery's Administration. In this matter he evinced great
tactical skill, and this, with more solid qualities shown in the ordinary work of the House.
commended him to favourable attention
when new blood was being introduced into
the higher Unionist official ranks. The way
in which he met the crisis of the greai
South African war indicated that the con-
fidence reposed in him was not misplaced.
Upon certain feature.- of the administration
of the War Office in this period of stress
and storm there has been abundant critici>m.
but in the main the verdict lias been that
the young MinUter has come out succesfl-
fully from the trying ordeal which he was
called upon to face.
His colleague and friend. Mr. \Vyndham,
has, in the agitated field of Irish politic-,
achieved no less distinction. As Chief
Secretary he has had to deal with a revival
of the Irish Land War under embarrassing
circiinir-tanccs. With a judgment which ha-
never failed, and a courage which has not
faltered, he has pursued a policy at once
firm and conciliatory, winning the admiration
of his friends and earning the respect, of
even his bitterest opponents. Time has yet
to write the full record of his measure:-; but
it may be safely predicted that, in the loiii,'
list of Irish Chief Secretaries, his name will
fnm nftMlftv KII,,,II d- f-'.-u. ftii..- .M .-••(, II'. j i • t r *.• i
stand high for earnestness, patience, and
MR. <;K»I«;>: WYMHIAM, M.P., . .11 •, , ,'
devotion to the best ideals of government.
On* of tlMmort prooiUing of tin- j..nniffr Kbool of tUUamen who hat . . °
made bii mark in iruh adiuinutntion. A circumstance which has added to Mr.
From a photo Oy Elliott & Fry, Baker Street, W.
ARCHIBALD PHILIP PRIMROSE, FIFTH KARL OF ROSEBERY, K.O.,
Foreign Secretary in Mr. Gladstone's 1886 and 1892 Administrations ; Premier in 1894.
533
534
Parliament Past and Present
\V yiiilliaiii's ]N>pu-
larity is tin' charm
of his oratory. His
-] dies lnive an
agreeable literary
flavour, and they are
delivered with the
effectiveness which
comes of a ] (leasing,
well-modulated voice
and a striking pre-
sence. With longer
experience Mr. \Vynd-
liain may liope to
occupy a position of
high authority and
influence in the
)M>pular chamU'r. As
it is, amongst the
younger scliool of
politicians on the
Unionist benches
there is not one who
is more generally liked
or more highly
admired.
The personnel of
the House generally
presents many jnunts
of interest — points
which would call for
notice if this survey
oftheVit-torian Parlia-
ments were designed
to be exhaustive. A-
the intention, how-
ever, is merely to
»ketch ill the broadest
outline the history of
this eventful period
the subject must be
left whore it is. All that need be said further is that though the ravages of time have
Ix-reft the House of tin- ]H>litical giants who occupied the Parliamentary Mage in the middle
jwirt of the late Queen's reign, and their places have not yet been completely filled, the
Mandard of talent is as high as ever it was, and in the matter of intellect the present
Parliament has probably an advantage over its predecessors.
f-'rm* ipixll. C^pyrffM, JTfclefciMpN 4 ' •-.
TIIK <;I:AM> ST MKCASI:, nin.-i: OF
One of the fln«l architectural fcatnrfi of the interior of the new Palace of \Yeitminster.
CHAPTEE XXXVI.
THE PRECINCTS OF THE PALACE— THE PALACE YARD, ST. MARGARET'S
CHURCH, AND THE CHAPTER HOUSE.
ALMOST as interesting historically as the Palace of Westminster is the area surrounding it.
Seeing that the spot has for centuries been the centre from which all great national movements
have emanated, it could hardly have been otherwise. The Palace and the Abbey, each in its
separate sphere, and the two collectively, have drawn as a magnet all the forces of the
country — intellectual, social, political, and religious — within their range of influence. In old
times, pilgrims, not all in the odour of sanctity, resorted to Westminster, as they did to
Canterbury, to find in its holy shades either solace for the spirit or immunity from the law.
Similarly, courtiers and place-hunters, poetasters and politicians, directed their faces to the
grey old walls of the Palace in pursuit of fame, or the shadow of it. So it came abrut that
this little area of British ground in process of time accumulated traditions which in their
breadth of interest and historic continuity vie with those of the square mile eastwards in which
the greatness of our commercial empire has been built up.
It is, of course, in the Palace "Yards," Old and New, that the chief interest is focussed.
What these were like outwardly in remote times we have shown in a previous chapter,
but their connection with the events transacted within the walls of the adjacent building is
such as to demand more detailed treatment. Both have a history of an absorbing kind — a
history which fascinates while it repeb, and which in its sunniest aspects appeals more to our
sense of the picturesque than to our lighter instincts. Froissart once declared that we English
i'r':i,i a contemporary drawing.
OLD PALACE YARD IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
Amongst the changes in Old Palace Yard the disappearance of the houses about Henry VII.'s Chapel will be noted.
535
Parliament Past and Present
take our pleasures sadlv. His \i.-\vs were ]ios>ihly to some extent formal from what IIP saw
i »n this identical *\*>t. mul if so. it i> IM difficult to agree with him. Amusement was found
in tin- J.UIMS anil tourneys in which the brutal elements were only thinly v .-red by the
light-o'-love jut-ions >tirrcd in the hearts of fair «i>ectators. who found in thpsp conte-t- a
relief from tin- tedium of media-val lift-. Sometimes it Implied that the arena was turned to
.ji!:i-i-judicial uses — by putting to the trial of liattle thp ^notion of the guilt or inniH-piice of
M>iii>- knight Iv .-iilject of the Kini;. Snoh an e]>iso<le, of which New Palace Yard was the
M-eiie. iKTiirred in the rei^n, ,,f Kidiard II., on June 7th, 1380. The combatants were Sir
.Mm Anne-lev. Knight, and Thomas Katrinijton (or Caterton). and issue was joined on a charge of
treason preferred by the latter against the former in connection with the surrender of the
J. T. ."...,1/1 tlil. 1»08.
BCILDISGS OS THK KASTEKN SIDE <IK XKW 1'AI.ACK YARD.
On the left of tbc iiicture U Been the water uiit* w liicli formerly gave acceiw to New Palace Yard from the river. Tbe third door to the right
led U» the Star Chamber, which wiu on the first floor of the building above.
Castle of St. Sauveur le Viscount in Normandy. Holinshed supplies a picturesque account of
the scene. On the morning fixed, the King, the Lords, and many others assembled at a place in
front of the Palace where the li>ts were set up. The knight, "armed and mounted on a faire
courser, seemelie trapped," came forward, and a little later the defendant was summoned. At
the third call lie appeared on the scene '"riding on a courser trapped with traps imhroidercd
with his urines. At his approching to the lists he alighted from his horsse. lest, according to
the lawe of armes. the ('mutable should have challenged the hor>-e. if he had entered within the
li.-ts; but his shifting nothing availed him, for the horsse, after his maister was alighted boide
him, ran up and down by the railes, now thrusting his head over and now both head and
breast; BO that the Marie of Buckingham, because he wa- High Constable of England, claimed
the horsse afterwards, declaring that he would have so much of him as had ap]>eared over the
railes, and so the hor.-c wa- adjudged unto him."
;The Precincts of the Palace
537
When the parties had .all entered the lists, Katrington, '• whose conscience was thought
not to be cleare," took: exception to the terms arranged for the contest. This so enraged the
Duke of Lancaster, who; was managing the business, that he threatened that if Katrington did
not accept the conditions he; would be adjudged guilty of treason and immediately executed.
Thus coerced, the defendant declared his readiness and even eagerness to fight with the knight.
It was a decision which only did him bare justice, for " he was indeed a mightie man of
stature, whereas the knight amongst those that were of a meane stature was one of the
least." Both now declared on their oaths the truth of the cause for which they fought, and
subsequently devoutly offered up prayers. These preliminaries o.ver, the fight began. It was
an obstinately contested .struggle, first with spears, then with swords, and lastly with daggers.
After a time .the, knight threw his adversary, but, missing his aim, the prostrate esquire seized
his chance and threw himself- upon his assailant. The King, seeing the position of affairs, gave
orders that the combatants should ' be parted, and this was done. But upon the urgent petition
of the knight the. two were placed upon the ground in the same position in which they had
been when the King intervened. It soon appeared that the esquire was totally unable to take
advantage of his position. .'He fainted and fell from his seat, and it was thought he would
have died on the. spot. . However, " after a little time the esquier began to come to himselfe,
and lifting up his eies,' began to hold up his head and to cast a ghostlie look on everie one
about him; which,' when it was reported to the knight, he commeth to him armed as he was
(for he had put off no piece since the beginning of the fight) and speaking to .him, called
him traitor, and false perjured man, asking of him if he durst trie the battell with him againe :
but the esquier having neither sense nor spirit whereby to make answer, proclamation was
made that the battell was ended and everie one might go to his lodging." Adjudged guilty
in the eyes of all, the unfortunate Katrington became delirious, and on the next day "he
yielded up the ghost," his body being afterwards hanged at Tyburn.
In both New and Old Palace Yards many tragic scenes have been witnessed in the .course
of their strange, eventful history. Through the former have passed in sombre procession. the
long series of State criminals or victims whose «teom iias been pronounced in Westminster
Hall. In one or other of them not a few of these individuals have been • brought • to the
scaffold. Here also have been witnessed many of those refinements of judicial cruelty which
in a former barbarous age . , , -,
were deemed essential to the ik^Ks.-
due administration of justice.
The pillory and the stocks
were supporters of the
scaffold ; the whipping-post
and the branding-iron were
the accompaniments of the
fire which consumed the
author's libellous books and
pamphlets in the Palace en-
closures.
Many familiar historical
figures flit before us in the
phantasmagoria which the
sinister records of this corner
of Old Westminster supply.
Fastened in -the stocks on a
scaffold before Westminster
Hall we see, on a November
day in 1497, that unfortunate THE TILT-YARD, WESTMINSTEU,
impostor Pei'kin ^^arbeck Where the jouste arranged by the Kings of England were held for several centuries.
68
538
Parliament Past and Present
-mr.'uiiiieil bv a ho*tile crowd, who, as he reads his confession, assail him with "innumer-
able reproaches, mock*, and scorning*." Another picture is that of William Prynne standing
in the pillory in 1G34 and ha\iiiy his famous work, the "Ilistrio Ma-nix." burned l>efore
his face. We al*o catch gliin]>ses of Titu* date- and Wilkes Minilarly ex]H.*ed to obloquy,
and of tiny Fawkes and three of hi- co-conspirators suffering the terrible penalty of their
treason. Tin-re i- record, too. of the execution in 1510. dining the sitting of Parliament, of
one NewUilt. a Yeoman of the King's (iuard. who. having slain in the Palace of Westminster
a servant of I»rd Willoughhy, was ordered to instant justice by the King, although the man
was a great favourite of his. Yet another memorable epi-ode of which history tells is the
Mieading in l.~>H,j •• lx-fore the Palace (late." during the sitting of the Parliament of which
in- \\a- a memlx-r. of Dr. Parry, a Welshman, who had incurred the ho-tility of the Crown by
*tigmati>ing a bill against Jesuits "a cruel, bloody, and desperate law."
But of all the scenes which are passed under review, that which most fascinates is the
tragic end of Raleigh. Brought to the scaffold in Old Palace Yard broken in health with long
imprisonment, but with spirit undaunted, we see the great man on that Michaelmas ])av,
1G18, slowly making his way through a subdued crowd. An old and devoted friend darts
forward to offer him a farewell greeting, and is repulsed by the guards. "Prithee, never fear.
I'.ee-ton ; / shall have a place." exclaims the prisoner. " Farewell, my lords," he adds, as he
acknowledges the sad salutations of a jwirty of friends. " I have a long journey to go, and
I mu*t e'en say 'Good-bye.'" Then, having mounted the scaffold, he said: "Now I am going
to God"; and turning to the executioner and gently touching the axe, he observed: ''This
is a sharp medicine, but it will cure all di*eases." Trembling with agitation, the headsman
shrank from the block. "What dost thou fear? Strike, man!" exclaimed the intrepid
Kaleigh. The axe fell, and the great crime was consummated. Thereafter "the bleeding
relic*" of the patriot were privately interred under the high altar of St. Margaret's Church,
with the exception of the head, which was taken away by Lady Kaleigh, and twenty years
afterward* buried by Can-w Kaleigh at West Horsley Church, Surrey.
While the. memories of Old and New Palace Yards are of a tragic cast, they are not
wanting in the element of sensationalism. From the earliest times popular movements have
found here their freest vent. What Trafalgar Square is to-day, that was this small area about
the Palace of Westminster in olden times. When
in 1641 the current of feeling against Strafford was
running high, the precincts of the House of Lords
were invaded by a mob of some six thousand armed
cit i/.ens clamouring for "justice against Lord Strafford."
About the same period a demonstration was made
by a number of " gentlemen and tradesmen's wi\e*"
from the City, who presented a petition again-t
Archbishop Laud, "then lying in the Tower, yet not
receiving his deserved punishment." Butler in
l/'idibras alludes to the incident in the couplet —
The oyster women locked their fish up,
And truclg'd away to cry " No Bishop."
The female zealots crowded about the door of the
House, and Sergeant -major Skippon. the commander
of the guard, applied to the llmi-e to know what
to do with them, they telling him "that where
there was one now there would be five hundred the
WILLIAM riiYNM.. next day» »nd that it was as good for them to die
nthrlunwtbur. -ho .uxxl il tb. pillory In herC «« at llome-" The HoUSC i">""cted the
New r«i!uw Yard in ISM. sergeant to "speak them fair and send them home
The Precincts of the Palace
539
again," their petition
being received and
read.' Two years
later an immense
number of women,
wearing white favours
in their hats,
swarmed into New
Palace Yard, crying
out : " Give us that
dog Pym!" They
were allowed to de-
monstrate for a time
unmolested; but
when they accom-
panied their verbal
appeals with brick-
bats, the train bands
who were defending
the approaches were
compelled to fire in
self-defence. The
political dames then
dispersed.
The eighteenth
century witnessed
several tumultuous
assemblies in and
about the Palace
Yards. One was on
April 10th, 1733,
when an immense
crowd of citizens
attended at West-
minster to petition
against .Sir Kobert
Walpole's Excise Bill,
and conducted themselves so threateningly that a serious riot was feared. A further and more
serious invasion took place in June, 1780, when Lord George Gordon with a howling mob
endeavoured to intimidate the Houses of Parliament to repeal the law of Catholic Emancipation
passed in 1778. It is difficult in these days to picture the condition of downright anarchy
which existed on the very threshold of the Legislative Chamber owing to the supineness of
the authorities on this memorable occasion. There were two separate visits of the mob to
St. Stephen's. The first was paid on June 2nd, .as the outcome of a resolution passed at a
meeting of the Protestant Association, of which Lord George Gordon was President, deciding
to present a petition to Parliament for the repeal of the obnoxious Act. Marching in four
divisions, the demonstrators proceeded to the House of Commons, swarming into the lobbies arid
blocking all the approaches to the Legislative Chamber. The petition was duly presented to
the House by Lord George Gordon, and after a debate it was decided to adjourn considera-
tion of it until June 6th. Meanwhile, the waiting crowd became noisy and insulting.
Members of both Houses who fell into their clutches, to escape personal injury were forced to
1 "Parliamentary History," vol. ii. p. 1073.
From an (nyraving after thzpaintiiig by Zucchero.
SIR WALTER KALEIGH,
The great Elizabethan hero, who was executed in New Palace Yanl in 1618.
540
Parliament Past and Present
wear blue cockades — the distinctive
badge of the Protestant A— oriution —
anil to jc.in in (lie "No Popery"
cry. The more daring spirits
amongst the rioters even endeavoured
to force the doors of the two Houses
of Parliament whilst the members
were in debate. The way was
blocked by several re>olute legislators,
who were prepared to resist the
invasion of the mob to the la-t ex-
tremity. One of the party — General
Con way — reminded Ix>rd George
Gordon, who had come out of the
Legislative Chamber to harangue his
followers, that the entrance to tin-
House was narrow and that he won;
a soldier's sword, and that that day
all members were in arms. Colonel
Gordon, another of the party, ad-
dre>sing I^ird George Gordon added,
"Will you bring these rascals in?
Harkee, the first man who enters I
will run. not him, but you, through
the body." The stout attitude as-
sumed by these courageous defenders
of the House's liberties had the
effect of staying the inrush of the
invaders. Eventually, on the appear-
ance of the military, they discreetly
retired. The second invasion of the rabble was on June 6th. On that day an enormous
mob gathered in and about the legislative precincts, assuming a more and more menacing
attitude as the sitting progressed. The House maintained a firm and dignified front
in the face of the peril which threatened it. Recognising that "no act of theirs
could be legal whilst the House was under apprehensions from the daring spirit of the
people," they resolved '""that to obstruct and insult the members whilst coming to or going
from the House, and to endeavour by force to compel them to declare themselves in
favour of or against any proposition then depending, was a gross breach of the privileges
of the House." After registering this protest the members adjourned. But by this time
the rioters had got beyond the influence of any minatory declarations such as this. For
three days they created a veritable Reign of Terror in London, burning and sacking, and
perpetrating all kinds of outrages. It was not until the entire military force available had
been called out, and between three and four hundred persons killed or mortally wounded, that
the formidable rising against authority was suppressed. The fantastic Lord George Gordon was
put u]K>n his trial for treason as the author of the riots, but he was acquitted on the ground
that his conduct did not justify the charge. lx>ss fortunate than he, some fifty of the leading
rioters sutt'e red the extreme jienalty of the law for their connection with the disturbances.
The period of the Chartist agitation also witnessed some stirring scenes in the neighbourhood
of the Palace; and there was again an anxious time for the authorities when, on the intro-
duction of Mr. Lowe's ill-starred Match Tax, several thousand matchmakers from the East End
attempted to march on the House of Commons. In the most recent times'the police have so
rigorously enforced the regulations which prohibit the approach of any considerable body of
l,ill,<niil m.i Hurt.
WILLIAM l.Ai'D. AKCliltlsHni- OK CAM 1:1:1:1 I:Y.
Th. eminent High Church divine vboM |»Iicy in the reign of Charles I. gnve ri« •
to great jiopnlsr
The Precincts of the Palace
541
demonstrators to the vicinity of the seat
of the Legislature, that the history of
this branch of the subject may be re-
garded as closed.
Apart from political turmoil associated
with the work of Parliament, the Palace
Yards were at frequent intervals for a
long course of years the cockpit of the
rival factions concerned in the West-
minster elections. The hustings ,were
actually erected for a long period in New
Palace Yard, and if a poll. were demanded
it was held in Westminster Hall, where
for weeks at ..a stretch, under frequently
the most tumultuous conditions, the "free
and enlightened " electors of Westminster
registered their votes. With the lapse
of time, so embarrassing did the West-
minster electioneering become to legisla-
tors that the hustings were transferred
to Covent Garden. But the precincts of
the Palace of Westminster continued
long afterwards to share in the boisterous
excitement which accompanied the elec-
tions. The most remarkable contest was
probably that of 1784, when Fox contested
the constituency against Sir Cecil Wray
and Admiral Lord Hood, the Court
nominees. The polling lasted for forty
days, and was marked by political excesses
which were notable even in those days of
riotous elections. It was at this famous
election that the beautiful Duchess of
Devonshire wooed and won votes for the
popular nominee by exchanging kisses for
promises of support. A squib issued at the time sets forth in amusing fashion the dangers of
this fascinating form of canvassing : —
WESTMINSTER.
To be hired for the day,
Several pairs of rnby pouting lips, of the First Quality,
To be kissed by rum Dukes, queer Dukes, Butchers,
Draymen, Dustmen, and Chimney-sweepers.
Please to inquire at Devon & Co.'s Crimson Touting Warehouse, Piccadilly.
Then follow several stanzas setting forth in halting rhyme the varied attractions of the election.
The Duchess of Devonshire is thus referred to : —
Arrayed in matchless beauty, Devon's fair
In Fox's favour takes a zealous part,
But, oh ! where'er the pilferer comes — beware I
She supplicates a vote and steals a heart !
Hail, Duchess 1 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 !
l-'rttm a int&otint after Sirjotltiia Jteynolds, P.R.A.
THK FAMOUS GEORGIAXA, DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE,
Who played a great part in ' the political life of the Jatter half of the
eighteenth century.
542
Parliament Past and Present
The return of Fox with n majority of '2:>'< \otes over \\n\y. the High Hailiff's refusal to
n-timi Fox, the sul»e,|uent protracted M-rutinv. and Fox's final triumph are matters «>( jiolitieal
hi-tory which need Hot !«• dilated U|MIII liere. It may lx- said. Imwever. that the incidents
were typical of the inten-e |uirtisaiishiii which raged at election times in this historic
oiiii-tituency until the reform of Parliament and the rise of imjiortaiit political centre*
cNcwhi-iv deprhed We>tmiii-ter of its commanding ]>osilioii.
A— m-iuted with the history of the I'alace Yards are tlie memories, political, social, and
lit entry, of the many coffee-tax ems and inns which once e\Nte<| there. They were the n-ort
of the leading men of the day, who used them much as their modem i>rototyi>es do the
]«datial flubs in Pall Mall and St. Jaime's Street. One of the most famous — ]>erha|is the mo.-t
famous — was the Turk's Head, or Miles's <'ofVee-Hou~e. in which was held the meetings of
the celebrated Hot a Club, founded in 1659 hy James Harrington, the author of "Oceana."
'I'he sinijular name of the club was derived from a plan, which it was established to promote,
for changing a certain number of members of Parliament annually by rotation. Pepys u.t-
one of its earlie.»t memlxTs. as appears from the following entry in his diary under date
January !)th, l(i.~>!MiO : "Thence 1 went with .Miiddiinan to the CofVee House and gave 18</. to be
entered of t lie Club." Sir William Petty was another of its distinguished members. Aubrey, in
his llodleian I.eu.-r». supplies us with an interoting glimpse of the club in action. -In 1659,
the Iieginning of .Michaelmas Term." sjiys the author, " Henry Nevill and Harrington had e\erv
a meeting at the (then) Turk's Head, in the New Palace Yard, where they take water,
the next house to
the Staires. at <ni>-
Miles's, where was
made purposely a
large ovall table.
with a passage in
the middle for Miles
to deliver hi* coft'ee.
About it >ate his
disciples and the
virtuosi. We many
times adjourned to
the Hhenish NVinc
House. One time
Mr. Stafford and his
gang came in drunk
from the tavern and
affronted the junto;
the soldiers offered
to kick them down
stay res. hut Mr.
Harrington's modera-
tion and persuasion
hindered it."
1'epys was a
conMant visitor to
the la\ern> and
coffee-houses about
the I'alace <>(' We>f-
Illillster. He \\~AS
sitting at one of
these"estal>lislimente
mm a ilraitixf tuul, I,,, T. llvtmtr-Uktplttnl in 1808.
THK lll.l K IIOAII'S HKAIl 1XN, KIM; STIu:i:T, XVI'^TM IXSTKR.
Imu In a IIOOM Intbejud of tbii Inn th»t Cn.niwell lived during the |*riod (h«t he wa. a member of
from a ilfuiciaij mai.lt. hy J. T. Smith in DtctmUr, ISO".
THE ANCIENT PRECINCTS OP THE PALACE OF WESTMINSTER.
View of the southern extremity of Thieving Lane (of late years called Bow Street), through which the felons were conveyed to the gate-house which
stood at the eastern end of Tothill Street.
543
544
Parliament Past and Present
KIXIJ STKKKT (!ATK, WKflTMtHSTEB.
*h to the proctncto nf the Pulac* of Westminster. It WM d«moli»hed in 1723.
with Locke and
Purcell. hearing a
variety of Italian
anil Sjiaiiish J-OHL;-
one evening ju>l
before the I\e>tora-
t ion. Mini he describes
the -rene ill his
••Diary." "Here
out of the window>."
-a\- lie. "it \\a~ a
Mi"-! plea-ant >ight
to see the City, from
one end to the other.
with a glory aliotit it,
so high was the light
of the bonfires, and
thick round (he City,
and tin- bells rani,'
everywhere."
The .Rhenish
Wine l|ou>e. pre-
viously referred to.
was another famous
place of resort to
which Pepys was very
partial. It Mood to
the north of New
Palace Yard, near a
door which gave ac-
cess to the Privy
Gardens, through
which legislators
were accustomed to pass either in going to or returning from Whitehall. The best known
taverns and coffee-houses were, however, in King Street, which for centuries was the main
approach to the Houses of Parliament. Here was the Boar's Head, in the yard attached to
which was the house occupied by Oliver Cromwell during the period that he was a memlwr of
Parliament. The Protector's house was pulled down many years ago, and quite recently the
la-t ve-tigc- of the inn premies were swept awivy to make room for the great blocks of
Government offices that are rising on the site of what was once King Street. Another tavern
which achieved fame at a later period was the Bell, at which that well-known association
of High Church Tory squires — the October Club — held its meetings, and quaffed their good
(tctoU-r ale while they discussed the political questions of the day. The club, which included
amount it> nieinliers many of the !>est known men of the da}', created a great stir in the
early jtiirt of the eighteenth century. Its fame even {tenet rated to the Continent, where books
for and against iN principle-, were printed. Its success resulted in the e>talili>hment of several
similar institutions, the l>cst known of which was the March Club. Eventually theM- roorts
faded out of existence with the rise of other and more implying centres of jnilitical enlighten-
ment and social intercourse farther west.
By far the mo>t interesting of the in>titutions of New Palace Yard was the Star Chamber, the
dread tribunal which occupies so important a place in constitutional history. Many theories
have been advanced to account for the peculiar name given to the Chamber. It is surmised by
The Precincts of the Palace
545
OLD STAR CHAMBER, WESTMINSTER.
Pulled down after the fire of 1S34.
some writers that it had its
origin in the Saxon word
steoran, to govern. Black-
stone suggests that the title
came from ':the Starr" or
"Shetar," the contracts of
the Jews with the King
which were kept in the
Exchequer. The more pro-
bable explanation, however,
appears to be that the Court
anciently sat in a room of
the Palace the ceiling of
which was adorned with stars.
The Court, it is surmised by
some writers, was a very
ancient one, dating back
to early Norman times ;
but in the form in which it
is best known in history
it was established by Henry VII. in the year 1487. Created to facilitate the designs of
the King and to more effectually punish his enemies, its functions -were to hold trials
without a jury, or the right of appeal, or hearing
accused, or having before it any written charge. A
Committee of the Privy Council and the two Chief
Justices, with the Lord High Chancellor acting as
president, formed the Court. The sentences imposed
took a variety of forms; but fines, imprisonment,
and branding were the punishments it most frequently
inflicted. In accordance with the spirit of the age,
it occasionally gave to its decrees a whimsical cast,
as, for example, on one occasion when a poor fanatic
named Traske was brought before it for preaching
the sinfulness of eating swine's flesh, it condemned
the accused to imprisonment, and ordered that pork
should be his sole fare. In Wolsey's day the tribunal
was freely employed in aiding by its coercive influence
the strong policy which he directed. But it was in
the period preceding the Great Kebellion that the
Chamber attained to its highest pitch of activity
and fame. Its mysterious powers and subversive
influences employed by Charles I. in support of what
he deemed to be his rights did much to kindle the
flame of liberty which was eventually to involve
himself and his dynasty in ruin. The last and
perhaps most picturesque incident associated with
the Court was the sentencing of John Lilburne ill
1636 for publishing seditious libels. This worthy
was fined £5,000, was ordered to stand in the pillory,
and to be whipped from the Fleet Prison to the
TABLET AFFIXED TO MARK THE POSITION OF Sate of Westminster Hall. In accordance with the
decree he stood in the pillory just outside the Star
69
< • >l MS I ahlci limits t}>c pi .situ »r- < >f il
-I ><>ru;iv Icadmg up to ll.v ro<>m
<lunr,i| !)•
'.."in instituted by statute
3!'' I <tv;Sl:n-
•li
S of Jamos Y ,\
u..,u.V < V <•>!:<• posiliono
from this spotShe Ghambpi
Hi*"!1. ih<v first floor*M'asli(iht
« milmvs lookirii to\ninls\('\vpiil;K
THE OLD STAK CLUB CHAMBER.
M,
•&> •tA
-.n&S
THANKS of this HOUSE
}. •;>.>/••'•) (' ', //'.i
V c/0-
^ **^ <z CSv-i
f
f i&i
_ I HAT ~a/ tL/Lctum, -&e- Atrfut'ictl. tv &t- t<m£ £<*trte>
?&? ,/ r&> -S67^/ *~/ //QH/ x /
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Cfre0m£vn/M/ u^^u*. U'no^e' QSt-mstce.1 ^n*dt' ria/Hes vcf^fv Jncw i.s'iLccr/i/rd' fry.
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^c- &n£&if&' <ms tnf Jeni/l^Ki^a of 4/u* ifupit^Hy, a/rids £ft*> TV StrtOtlf VL X'AV\lf\t^or
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t£o4/is, &&.
t»Z,erti ^Letut&na'n/' of .
AX F.Xr.KOSSMKXT fir TUB BESOWTIOX CONVKVISO TUB THAXKS OK THK HOVfi: or riiMMONS TO THB
VOI.UNTKKB AND YKUMAMIY COIII'S IX THE CKIS1S CUEATED BV THK THREAT OF A NAPOLEONIC INVASION.
54G
The Precincts of the Palace
547
Chamber. He went, he tells us in -the narrative he subsequently published, " with a joyful
courage," and when he was upon the place of punishment he " made obeisance to the lords "
who had acted as his judges, and who apparently were inspecting him from the Star Chamber.
When the Star Chamber was abolished, the historic apartment in which its sittings were
held was diverted to ordinary official uses, and remained in much its original state until the
clearances necessitated in New Palace Yard for the rebuilding of the Houses of Parliament
were undertaken in 1836. It was then demolished, and upon the site arose the imposing
outlines of Barry's great Gothic building. So completely were all vestiges of the Chamber
obliterated, that its precise situation was for a long time a matter of uncertainty. Eventually,
however, Sir Reginald Palgrave set all doubts at rest in a paper he prepared on the subject,1
and now a tablet placed on a wall pier in the centre of the arcade which leads from the
District Railway subway to the Privy Councillors' entrance to the House of Commons tells the
visitor all that there is to be known. This is the inscription : —
"This tablet marks the position of the outer doorway leading up to the room built during
the year 1602, wherein the Court of Law constituted by Statute 3 Henry VII., c. 1, known
as the Star Chamber Court, held session during the reigns of James I. and Charles I. until
the 1st day of August, 1641, when the Court was closed by Statute 16 Car. I., c. 10.
'' The position of this tablet was ascertained by measurements based upon ancient plans of
the Palace of Westminster. The frontage of the Star Chamber extended about thirty feet
northward and southward from this spot. The Star Chamber was upon the Srst floor, and was
lighted by windows looking towards New Palace Yard."
In reviewing the past history of the Palace Yards, the not indirect connection of the
quarter with the Volunteer movement must not be overlooked. In the closing days of
the eighteenth century, when the fear
of a Napoleonic invasion sent a great
wave of patriotism throughout the
country, Westminster played a part —
and a not inconspicuous part— in the
call of the citizens to arms. A fine
corps was formed within the city,
and in its ranks were found many
of the leading inhabitants. The New
Palace Yard was a favourite place
of assembly of the citizen soldiers.
There, under the eyes of the Legisla-
ture, they went through their drill,
establishing a connection between the
Palace of Westminster and the Volun-
teer movement which exists to this
day in the unique privilege accorded
to the Queen's Westminster Volunteers
— the lineal descendants of the old
corps — of drilling in Westminster Hall.
It may be assumed that the intimate
ties which were formed between Parlia-
ment and the old Westminster corps
gave an added strength to the cordiality
with which, when the storm had blown
over, the House of Commons, in a
resolution dated AugUSt 10th, 1803, StateOTanoftheStTOrtandCon^nwealthl)erio^ He was concerned in the arrest
tendered its thanks to the yeomanry of Waller and his fellow-conspirators for their plot against the Parliament in 1942.
1 Leisure Hour, November, 1898.
From OH engraving by J. Hoitbraken.
548
Parliament Past and Present
I.HMI Ml WAI.I.KIi.
Tbcpocl, noUd in i-.Htir.il lii»t-.r.r n» the nutlior of n
apunrt thi! I'lirlialnetit in 1' U.
|'l"t
ami \oluntccr corps of the- t'nited Kingdom ''for
tin- promptitude with which, at a crisis tlic most
momentous to their country." they a--ociatcd for
its defence. This resolution, emblazoned with all the
ingenuity of the illuminator's art. was circulated
throughout the country; and now reproduced in
these l«ig«'s after the lapse of nearly a century,
mav serve as a reminder that ardour in the
country's defence is not a latter-day attrihute ..I
patriotism.
Closely identified with the life of Parliament.
and sharing to son xtent in its glorious history.
is the t'hurch of St .Margaret. Y.'est min-ter. V.'alcott.
the historian of the church, claims for it. with
justice, that "with the exception of the Ahhey of
St. Peter and St. Paul's Cathedral there is no
other ecclesiastical editice throughout London and
Westminster which can boast a greater antiquity
or more interesting foundation." The original build-
ing was. there is good reason to believe, erected by
Kdward the Confessor. It is certain tliat there was
iv parish church on the site in the earliest Norman
times. The present structure, however, dates no
further back than the reign of Edward I., and the
greater part of it is of a much later period. Its
connection with the HonseofCommons.it is
surmised by V.'alcott. commenced when St.
Stephen's CliajK-I was diverted from its sacred
purjwses in the reign of Edward VI. Certain
it is that soon after that period arose the
custom of memlH-rs of the House of Commons
attending Divine service and partaking of
the Communion in the church, as the Peers
did in the Abl>ev. The following entry in
the churchwardens' accounts in the year
1627 shows that the religious observance's
of legislators were conducted in no perfunctory
manner: "Item, ]«id for bread and wine
when the Kight Honourable the Commons
Mouse ot Parliament (being 408 persons)
received the Communion in the parish church.
102(1. x.l. xvi.js." •• Item, given to Mr. Vincent
Peris, curate by their appointment, for his
pain- in the administration of the Sacrament
unto them, v.l."1 A- the total number of
memlwis at the time was but -JOS. it would
appear that every single inellllicr attended
the M-nice.
In the troublous Stuart period, as noted
in an earlier chapter, t he church was frequent Iv nr<:n n:Ti:us,
the scene of services at which tin- I louse of ™« '—«-' '<-»i'°» "• '"' °
1 "Westminster Itecords," p. 66.
549
550
Parliament Past and Present
Commons in its <iir|ionit«' rajiiifity n»i>trd. On one fast day — Noveml>er 17th, 1640 — tlio records
N-ll us that "Dr. 1'mx'.-" and Mr. M:ir>liall preached liefore tin- House, at least seven liours
U-twifii tin-in. UJHIII .li-r. 1. 3. and 2 Chron. ii. 2." It was in th<- church during a soli-urn
l.i»t that on May :il-t. 1CI2. I'yin received the fir.-t news of the plot of Kdiniind \Valli-r. the
against 1'arliaiin-nt. and it was from its precincts that the preliminary orders were given
for tin- niTiM of tin- cnn-pirators. Liter in tin- same year, on September li.ltli. Kiln, the
sacred building was still more closely identifii-d \\itli the cause of the Parliamentarians by
tin- taking of the Solemn league and Covenant within its walls, by both Houses of Parliament,
the Assembly of I>ivinos. and the Scottish Commissioners. Yet another memonible Parliamentary
serxiee was that held on December 2<ith, 1648, when Hugh Peters, the fanatieal Puritan
divine, delivered his famous address from the pulpit in which he denounced Charles as "the
(ireat Itarahlias. murderer, tyrant, and traitor," and incited his hearers to bring the King
"t<> condign, speedy, and capital punishment." When the Restoration came, the practice
continued of delivering ]>o)iticnl sermons to a congregation of legislators. An anecdote related
'.'y l>r. Johnson throws an amusing light on these official services. •' |!urnet and Sprat t."
he Bays, "were old rivals. On some public occasion they both preached before the Il.ni>,- of
Commons. There prevailed in those days an indecent custom. When the preacher touched
any favourite topic in a manner that delighted his audiences, their approbation was expi
by a loud hum, continued in proportion to their zeal or pleasure. When I'urnet preached.
juirt of his congregation hummed so loudly and so long that he sat down to enjoy it, and
rubln-d his face with his handkerchief. When Sprat t preached, he likewise was honoured with
a like animating hum; but he stretched out bis hand to the congregation and cried, 'Peace,
l«eace. 1 pray you jieace.'" "Burnet's sermon," we are told by another writer, "was remark-
able for sedition, and Spratt's for loyalty. Burnet had the thanks of the House. Sprat t had
no thanks, but a good living from the King, which, he said, was of as much value as the
thanks of the Commoi
From time to time the connection of the House of Commons was formally recognised
by the making of grants from the public purse for repairs or structural changes. The earliest
recorded vote was of i.200 in 1050. An important contribution was made in 1734 towards
the extensive repairs which were carried out in the church at that period at a cost of !_.">.< ><)0.
The grant ' was justified on the ground that St.
.Margaret's was "as it were a national church
for the use of the House of Commons." This
was no doubt in a sense true, but it is prohahlc
that the money would not have been so readily
obtained but for the powerful influences which
it was possible at the time to invoke. Amongst
the members of the vestry of the day were the
Dukes of Montagu, Dorset, and Richmond; the
Karls of Pembroke, Berkshire. Abingdon, and
Halifax; Lord Falmouth, Count Bot lunar, Sir
Robert Wai pole, and Horatio Walpole. The
Speaker, Sir Arthur Onslow, was also deeply in-
terested in the church, though not a member of
the vestry. In 1758 the attachment of members
to their parish church was further and more
conspicuously demonstrated by the voting of a
sum of £.5,000 for the purpose of re-pewing
and decorating the building. It was in this year
that the singularly beautiful east window was
placed in position. To this attractive feature
of the church a romantic history attaches.
OILBKUT liritM.T, Illslllil- OF HAMHBURY,
Once » hroarlM prawbw in HI. Margaret' • Church, Wotiuioiter.
F,-OM aphololiy If*. S. Campbell. Coji.nriyhl, JlulrUintonJ: Co.
ABCADE CONNECTING THE HOUSE OP COMMONS WITH THE WESTMINSTER STATION OP THE DISTRICT RAILWAY.
551
552
Parliament Past and Present
•I prin
i/ ix ;.'-'•.
ST. MAIH;AI;I;I .- niriicii .\vn TIM: SOUTH TftAXsi:n <u- WKSTMINSTIM;
The view U intonating a* allowing St. Marput-t'» Oiuruhjard in iU unenclosed state-.
Kxecuted at (iouda. in llollaml. it was (says Waleott) "originally intended as a pre-ent from
the magi-t rates of Uort to Henry VII.; or. as some say. was unit-red by Ferdinand and
I-abella iin the occasion of Prince Arthur being affianced in 1499 to Princess Catharine ot
Arragnii — their jiortraits being j>roc-ured for the puqxtse. The window was probably finished
after his brother's death, to be sent as a gift to King Henry VIII. However this may be. it
I into the hands of the Abbot of \Valtham. who kept it in his church until the dissolu-
tion, A.I>. l.Vln. Uolx-rt Fuller, the last abliot to preserve it, sent it to his private chapel at
New Hall, in the parish of P>on-ham. Ksst-x. which was at one time the M-at of the I Sutlers,
Karls of Orinond. and it passed into the hands of Sir Thomas, father of Ann P.ullen, Queen
of Henry VIII. In Queen Kli/alx-th's time Thomas Ratcliffe, Earl of Sussex, resided then-.
and (ieor^'e Villiers. Duke of Buckingham, imrc-hased it from his family. (ieneral .Monk, to
whom that nobleman's son sold it. caused the window to be buried underground, well knowing
that if it fell into the hands of the Puritans, thev would not fail to destroy so line an effort
of geniu- and talent, as it is said they destroyed during those disgraceful times no less than
<-ight hundred similar productions of art. After the Restoration General Monk replaced it in
hi- chapel at New Hall. After the death of the (ieneral. owing to the circumstance of his
.-on Chri.-tophcr. Duke of Alheinarle. dying without children, this beautiful seat became the
pni]M-rty of hi- Duchess, and gradually fell into a state of ruin and decay. Its next owner
.'•ihn Olmiu-. K-ijiiire. who demoli-hed the fine chapel, but preserved the window in hopes
of selling it to some church. The window lay for some time cased up in chests, until
purcha-ed by Mr. Conyers, of Copt Hall, in K—'-x. near Kpping, for fifty guineas, to be placed
in his <-|HI|M-|. and jwiid Mr. Price a large sum for repairing it. Mr. John Conyers. the son of
the late owner of the window, sold it to the committee for repairing and beautifying St.
The Precincts of the Palace
553
^Margaret's Church for four hundred guineas in 1758, the churchwardens having successfully
treated with him."'
It was an excellent stroke of business, but bigotry saw in the action an attempt to revive
Popish practices. A suit was brought against the churchwardens under the cover of an old
statute of Edward VI. — "an Act for abolishing and putting away divers books and images "-
and it was sought to secure the removal of the window on the ground that the repre-
sentation of the Crucifixion, which is the subject of the design, was " a superstitious image or
picture." After lasting for seven weary years, the suit was decided in favour of the church-
wardens, each party being ordered to pay its own costs. Now the only wonder is that even
Puritanical fanaticism could find in this exquisite work of art a cause of offence.
On several occasions since 1758 Parliament has voted money for the repair of St.
Margaret's. For instance, in 1799 the large grant of £6,721 was made, and three years later
a further sum of £4,500 was contributed, the supervision of expenditure being entrusted under
the authority of the Statute 48 George III. to the Commissioners for the Improvement of
Westminster. Again, in 1813 there was a considerable grant of £3,059 for the repair of the
•church, and further advances were made in the years 1824 and 1845.
While officially so much has been done to mark the close association of the church with
Parliament, private effort has lavishly contributed towards the perpetuation of the connection.
In and about the sacred building are to be found numerous beautiful monuments to departed
Parliamentary worthies. The porch at the south-east end of the church was erected by Caroline,
Viscountess Sherbrooke, in memory of her distinguished husband, Viscount Sherbrooke, better
known as Robert Lowe. The inscription in Latin states that "he faithfully discharged the
ENTRANCE TO THE CHAPTER HOUSE, WESTMINSTER.
Through these gates passed many generations of legislators before the Chapter House was abandoned as a place of assembly of the House of Commons.
70
554
Parliament Past and Present
highest offices of State and always put country before jvirty." One of the stained-glass
windows commemorates William Page, Karon Hatherley. the I/ml Chancellor. "He was a
good man" is the simple epitaph which is inscribed beneath the window. A jminted window
is also in the church to the memory of Lord Farnborough, better known as Sir Thomas
Erskine May. for more than half a century in the service of the ll.m-e of Commons, holding
various im]tortant offices, and for lift ecu years the Clerk of the House. Sir Thomas Erskine
May was the author of several historical and constitutional works, among them the "Constitu-
tional History of England, 1760 — 1860," continuing Hallam. But the work he will always be
identified with is the "Treatise on the Laws, Privileges, Proceedings, and I' sages of Parlia-
ment." First published in 1844, it has from time to time been revised and published in
various editions, and at the present time is the recognix-d authority describing the various
functions and proceedings of Parliament in a form adapted, as well to purposes of reference.
as to a methodical treatment of the subject.
Beneath the window at the west end of the south aisle is the inscription to the memory
of the unfortunate brother of the present Duke of Devonshire: "Dedicated by his fellow
members of the House of Commons to the beloved memory of Frederic Charles Cavendish, son
of the seventh Duke of Devonshire, member for the Northern Division of the West Hiding of York-
shire for seventeen years, and Chief
Secretary for Ireland. Born on the
Feast of St. Andrew. 1836, and, like
him, permitted in singleness and
humility of heart to follow his Lord,
and with his blood to seal a life de-
voted to duty. On the day of his
arrival in Dublin, in company with,
and in attempted defence of, his
colleague, Mr. T. N. Burke, he was
murdered in the Phcenix Park,
.May 6th, 1882."
Yet another Parliamentary
memorial which calls for notice is a
brass tablet placed beneath the
stained-glass window erected to com-
memorate the Jubilee of Queen
Victoria in 1887. The tablet is in
memory of the Right Hon. Charles
Shaw Lefevre, who, after serving the
office of Speaker of the House of
Commons, was in 1857 raised to the
House of Jx>rds with the title of
Viscount Eversley. He died De-
cember 28th, 1888, at the age of
ninety-five.
Though none of the eminent
individuals whose virtues and public
services are thus perpetuated are
buried within the precincts of the
church, there is yet in and about it
some illusl rious dust. In the church-
yard were interred in 1491 the re-
THK CHAPTER HOUSE, WESTMINSTER. ""'"> "' W'"»»n CaXt°"' the ****M
Exurior of th. •• incon,,«»bl..tn.ct,.re " in which th.Itau.of Common. «-«ubled. °f Printing. A little more than
555
556
Parliament Past and Present
•
sixty years later in 1 .">.>:>-—. was
placed in the same sacred ground
the IxKly of .Richard Cecil or. a-
the name is ghcn in the ancient
records of the church, Richard
Cyccll the father of Lord Murghlev
and the ancestor of the Marquis of
Salisbury. Within the chancel IH--
neath the high altar, as previously
noted, was privately buried on the
day of his execution the headless
I tody of Sir Walter Raleigh. Near
his grave is that of John Harrington.
the author of " ( leeana." and the
founder of the Rota Club. In the
churchyard rest Wenceslaus Hollar,
the famous engraver ; Henry Klsinge.
the eminent Clerk of the House of
Common-, and the author of the
well-known constitutional work. "Tin-
Ancient Method and Manner of hold-
ing Parliaments in England"; and
Cole, a burgess for "Westminster.
whose name is perpetuated by a
memorial in the church bearing this
quaint inscription : —
In I'arliament a burgess Cole was placed,
In Westminster the like for many \i
Bat now with saints above his soul is graced.
And lives a burgess with heaven's royal
peers.
O blessed change from earth \\here Death is
kinj:,
To be united there, where angela sinjr.
By ffrmutitm of Miurt. /'.i--l.. .. ">j'oni.
THK INTIIKKilt OK Till: ( HAI'TKU HliCSI-:. WKsT.M I NSTKK.
Sir Gilbert Scoif« daifn for iu proiioKd ratoration which was afterward! adopted.
We-t minster occur in the mortuary records of St. Margaret's — indeed, it may be doubted
whether any jwirish church in the country can lay claim to so remarkable a connection.
Nowadays, a -t retch of velvety turf gives a uniform and pleasing aspect to the churchyard, and
it i- difficult to realise that the .-]*>! was for centuries the chief burial-place in Westminster.
Mut it is a historic fact that the ground about the church lias been raised some eight or
nine feet altove the original level, chiefly owing the vast number of bodies which have been
interred within its limits. Melon- the churchyard was closed, a scandalous condition of affairs
exi-d-d. It was here that Cowper received the second religious impression which so profoundly
influenced hi- life. On pa-sing the churchyard one evening at dusk as a boy, he saw a
glimmering light amongst the tombs, and on going to ascertain the cause was struck by a
human skull thrown out of a half-completed grave by a grave-digger, who was working by
lantern light at his gruesome task.
In dealing with the precincts of the Palace of Westminster it is impossible to leave out
of con-ideration the Chapter House of the venerable Abbey. Most people who nowadays visit
this ••incomparable structure." after perhaps an absorbingly interesting morning amongst the
mouldering tombs of the great minster, naturally as.-ociate it exclusively with the old monastic
Many other names more or les- in-
timately associated with the life of
The Precincts of the Palace
557
life of the spot. But it is really quite as memorable for its Parliamentary as for its' ecclesiastical
traditions. For here, as we have seen, the House of Commons first found a home of its own,
and here fitfully for two hundred years were the sittings of the popular chamber held. In point
of antiquity it is not equalled by any building which has ever been devoted to legislative or
national consultative purposes in existence. Six hundred and sixty years at least have passed
away since the faithful Commons, driven out from association with the Peers in the Palace
of Westminster, entered upon a separate existence within its walls. It witnessed the birth
of the Constitution and its passage through a precarious childhood to adolescence. It was the
cradle of our liberties, and of the privileges which we hold dear. The Englishman who can
enter its walls without feeling his pulse beat the quicker as he recalls its history is not
worthy of the name.
Built on the site of an older structure about the middle of the thirteenth century, under
the direction of Abbot Littlington, who was responsible for some of the finest work of the
Abbey, it is a magnificent example of English architecture. Old Matthew Paris, writing of
Henry III.'s intention to erect the building, refers to the design as " incomparable," and Sir
Gilbert Scott — no mean authority — thoroughly endorses this description, observing that the
building " singles itself out among these beautiful works as a structure perfect in itself, of a
purely English type as to its plan and outline, and as carrying out the principle of window
tracery in fuller and grander degree than any part of the church." In size it resembles the
Chapter Houses of Salisbury, Lincoln, and York, the plan being that of an octagon inscribed
within a circle sixty feet in diameter. When seen originally in its full glory, with the
tracery of its windows undamaged and the statues and internal decorations complete, it must
have presented a superb spectacle. Even to-day, when time and vandalistic treatment have left
their mark on the work of the ancient craftsmen, it has a nobility which commands attention.
The internal arrangement of the Chapter House is, in its broad features, what it was in
THE CHAPTER HOUSE, WESTMINSTER.
The interior as it is to-day, arranged as a museum of Abbey antiquities.
558
Parliament Past and Present
the earliest days of it« existence. Two rows of stone benches encircle the chamber, five
s|Hfial stalls l>eing provided for the Abbot, Prior, and three other high officials. The groined
roof is supported by a pillar of black Purbeck marble which played a prominent part, it
would WPIII, in the disciplinary system of the Abbey in mona>tic times. Dean Stanley, in his
charming way, gives a vivid account of the uses to which the Chapter lloii-e was put in tho-e
far remote days. "To this at least once a week," he writes in his "Memorials of \Ve-t min-tcr
Ablwv," "the whole convent came. . . . When they were all seated on the stone steps around,
jH'rfeot freedom of speech was allowed. Now was the opjmrt unity for making any coiu]ilaints
or for confessing of faults. . . . Here, too, was the scene of judgment and punishment. The
details an- such as to recall a rough school rattier than a grave ecclesiastical community.
The younger monks were flogged elsewhere; but the others, stripped wholly or from the
waist upwards or in their shirts, girt close around them, were scourged in public here, with
roils of single or double thickness, by the mature brothers who formed the council of the
Abbot (but always excluding the accuser from the office), the criminal himself sitting on a
three-legged bench, probably before the cent nil pillar, which was used as judgment-seat or
whipping-post. If Hogging was deemed insufficient, the only further punishment was
expulsion. The terrors of immurement or torture seem unknown."
Dean Stanley connects the building of the Abbey with the occupation of the Chapter
House by the Commons. "As the building of the new St. Peter's at Home by the indulgences
i—m-d to provide for its erection produced the Reformation, so the building of this new
St. Peter's at Westminster, by the enormous sums which the King exacted from his subjects
to gratify his artistic or his devotional sentiment, produced the House of Commons. And the
House of Commons found its first independent home in the incomparable Chapter House of
We.-t minster. Whatever may 1*> the satire of Wren's statement that 'the Abbot lent it to the
NKW PA LACK YARD.
It ii at th* point on the right of the picture that the nujuritj of mem ben enter and leave the legislative precinct*.
. ('jjiyrtyltt, Uutchinson £ Co.
THE ORATORY.
The exterior of the beautiful little chapel in which a number of signatures are traditionally believed to have been appended to the death warrant
of Charles I.
559
56o
Parliament Past and Present
A>
THE CLOISTER COURT.
One of the most beautiful features of the design of the Houses of Parliament.
King for the use of the Commons on condition that the Crown should repair it.' there can be
no question tliiit from the time of the separation of the Commons from the Ix>rds it became
their habitual meeting place. The exact moment of the separation cannot, perhaps, be
ascertained. In the fii>t in-tance the two Houses met in Westminster Hall, but they parted
as early as the eleventh year of Kihvard I. From that time the Lords met in the 1'ainted
('handier in the Palace, the Commons, whenever they sate in London, within the precinct- uf
the Abbey. Such secular assemblies had already assembled under its shadow, though not vet
within the Chapter House. . . .
-In the refectory the Commons were convened under Edward II. When they impeached
I'iers (iaveston, and also on several occasions during the reigns of Hichard II., Henry IV., and
Henry V. Kut their usual resort was 'in their ancient place the House of the Chapter of the
<ireat Charter of the Abbey of Westminster.' On one occasion a Parliament was summoned
there in 125C, even before the birth of the House of Commons, to grant a subsidy for Sirilv.
There John I'alliol consented in 1292 to withdraw his claims on the Crown of Scotland. The
black rood of St. Margaret was brought from the adjacent Treasury, and over this his oath was
sworn. It is from the reign of Kdward III., however, that these meetings of the Commons
were fixed within its walls. With this coincides the date of those curious decorations which
in that age seemed specially appropriate. Piers Plowman's vision of a Chapter House was
as of 'a great church carven and covered, quaintly entailed, with scenely ceilings set aloft, and.
as Parliament House, painted about.' The seraphs that adorn the chief stalls, the long series
of ajwcalyptic pictures which were added to the lesser stalls, were evidently thmi^ht the
fitting accomjwiniments of the great Council Chamber. . . .
"The Speaker no doubt took his place in the Ablwt's stall facing the entrance. The
burgesses must have sate round the building— those who had the best seats in the eighty
I
561
71
562
Parliament Past and Present
stall* of the monksi, the other* arranged as l>est they could. To the cc'iitr.il pillar were
attached placards, liU-Hous or otherwise, to attract the attention of the inemhers. . . .
"The Acts of Parliament which the Chapter HHUM- witne^i-d derive a double significance
from the lucidity. . . . Unquestionably there is a strange irony, if indeed it be not rather a
pro founder wisdom, in the thought that within this consecrated precinct were pa^ed those
inemoroble statutes which restrained the power of that very Unly under whose shell er thev
were discussed. Here the Commons imist Imve assented to the dry humour of the Statute
Circrtn>sf>fcte At/titis, whicl), whilst it apj>ears to grant the lesser privilege of the dergv.
virtually wit holds the larger. Here also were enacted the Statutes of Provisions and of
Pnrnumire, which, as Fuller says, first jwred the Pope's nails to the quick and then cut, off
his fingers. Here finally were enacted the scenes in which, during the first e|>och of the
Reformation, the House of Commons took so prominent a part by pressing forward those
Church of England statutes which laid 'the foundations of the new Slat.-.' which 'found England
WESTMINSTER ABBEY, FliOM THE JEWEL TOWER,
A viow of the luinater from an unfamiliar standpoint.
in dependency upon a foreign Power ' and ' left it a free nation,' which gave the voice of the
nation for the first time its free expression in the councils of the Church. . . .
"Within the Chapter House must have been passed the first Clergy Discipline Act. the
tii-t Clergy Residence Act, and, chief of all, the Act of Supremacy and the Act of Submission.
P.eiieath that vaulted roof and before that central pillar must have been placed the famous
Black Book which sealed the fate of all the monasteries of England, including the Abbey of
\Ve>tinin>ter dose by, and which struck such a thrill of horror through the House of Commons
when they learned its contents. . . .
"The last time that the Commons sat in the building was on the last day of the life of
Henry VIII. The last Act passed was the attainder of the Duke of Norfolk; and they must
have lieeii .-itting here when the news readied them that the King had died that morning
and while th«»e preparations for the coronation of Prince Edward — whom King Henry had
designed should be crowned before his own death, in order to secure his succession — were going
The Precincts of the Palace
563
on in the Abbey, which were summarily
broken off when the news came that
the King himself was dead."
In the year 1540, when the Abbey
was dissolved, the Chapter House became,
what it has ever since been, national
property. Seven years later, in the first
year of Edward VI., the Commons
moved to the Chapel of St. Stephen,
which, as is related elsewhere, was set
apart for their meetings on the dis-
solution of the College of St. Stephen.
When the Chapter House was rid
of its Parliamentary occupants, it entered
upon a period of ill-treatment which
threatened its unity, if not its very
existence. With that contempt for the
grand work of the artificers and artists
of the so-called Dark Ages which was
characteristic of the period which followed
the Reformation, the building was turned
over to the Government officers for use
as a Public Record Chamber. To suit
it to this purpose, various defacements
and excrescences crept in. About the
year 1703 it was actually proposed to
Sir Christopher Wren to mutilate it
irretrievably by putting up a gallery
in the interior ; but the great archi-
tect very properly declined to sanction
any such infamy. In 1740, however,
the vaulting having become unsafe, the HOISTING THE UNION JACK ON THE VICTORIA TOWER.
building, to quote Sir Gilbert Scott, A ceremony daily performed. When the Sovereign is within the building, the'
•• was made over to some barbarian, who Royal Standard is flOTvn'
fitted it up for the records with studious disregard to concealment or destruction of its
architectural beauties." So it remained for more than a century, until the erection of a new
Record Office freed the building of its encumbrances, and in the process directed public
attention to the scandalous treatment to which it had been subjected during a long period
of years. Sir Gilbert Scott's advice was sought as to the practicability of a restoration.
That eminent architect, animated by a zeal as praiseworthy as it was prolific of good results,
entered upon an exhaustive investigation of the building, with a view to determining the
character of the design in its completeness. With painstaking care he pieced the various
parts of the design together until he had the whole before him in all the elegance and
beauty of its conception. Then, under the authority of the Government, the restoration was
carried through. It was thorough yet conservative. Nothing was added excepting where the
old work had been destroyed or hopelessly mutilated, and the only parts conjecturally restored
were the external parapet, the pinnacles, the gables of the buttresses, and the roof. So
carefully was the work done that, viewing the building to-day, it is difficult to realise that
less than a half-century ago its interior was a shapeless mass of woodwork, with every single
feature of the ancient building concealed from view, and many parts hopelessly mutilated.
C 1IA1TK 11 XXXVII.
TllK MIX1STKR1AL AXXKXK <>r Till-: I'M.At'K
AMI JUIWXISG STREET.
THK official quarter, which lies ju>t out>ide the limits of the Palace of Westmin.-ter. ia so
intimately a— ociated with the proceedings of Parliament, and touches so many jntints in its
hi-tor\. that it claims some notice before the final sent em f this work is written. There
was probably never a time since the l^egi>lature had a recognised and regular existence when
this territory without the gates, as it were, was not markedly a political centre. IntpKing
Street, for centuries the only land approach to the Palace from the City and the \ve-t. members
found at once a common meeting ground and a convenient residential quarter.1 There also
collected the various functionaries of Parliament, and the gossips and professional idlers who
had an inten-.-t more or less legitimate in the legis-
lative doings. The establishment of Whitehall M a
Royal Palace strengthened the political hold on the
district. With the departure of the Sovereign from
the ancient Palace the tie which had bound the
I ^, ^fN • Government departments and the official element to
' A<|flJj!iln^BBLlBBH the legislative precincts was broken, and gradually a
drift of officialdom set outwards, absorbing, as genera-
tion succeeded generation, one after another of the
sites and buildings lying between New Palace Yard
and Charing Cross.
One of the first annexations was of a portion of
the Palace known then and subsequently as the Cock-
pit. This wa- an institution first established by
Ilenrv VIII. for the prosecution of the then highly
•V"*'ll By^ I popular form of sport. It was used indifferently for
this purpose and as a theatre during several reigns,
SMI \ $ I and figures extensively in this connection in the
B I gossipy records of the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries. Elizabeth, James I., and Charles 1.. ac-
cording to Malone, frequently ordered plays to be
represented there. But it is with Cromwell that the
history of the Cockpit as a place of residence and
of entertainment rather than of sport is chiefly as-oci-
ated. The great Parliamentarian, when Lord-
Lieutenant of Ireland, by special resolution of the
House on February 29th, 1650, was granted "the
use of the lodgings called the Cockpit," and he appears
to have resided there until, as Lord Protector, he
entered into full possession of Whitehall Palace.
Thereafter the building was utilised, in common
"Ifi'U: October 29th.— I have come safely to-day to Mrs. Bottom's house in Si. Stephen's Alloy, King Street. ]
do not know how I Mull like my lodgings. My company is like to be good."— Letter from Sir Edward llnrley to his wife :
Historical Manuscripts Commission Report.
504
WIIITKIIAI.r, CATK.
Said to hare been dalgned l.j H.ns Holbein.
The Ministerial Annexe of the Palace of Westminster 565
with other portions of the Palace, for purposes connected with the Cromwellian establish-
ment. On one occasion, at least, the old festive traditions of the place were revived.
This was on February 20th, 1657, when the House of Commons, having heard two sermons
at St. Margaret's, Westminster, and having enjoyed "a most princely entertainment at White-
hall," were entertained in the Cockpit " with rare music both of voices and instruments till
the evening."
Towards the close of the Commonwealth period the Cockpit apartments were assigned by
Parliament to General Monk, and he continued in residence after the Restoration, living there all
through the terrible plague epidemic of 1666, and subsequently until his death on January 3rd,
1670. Meanwhile, as the diaries of Pepys and Evelyn show, the principal chamber was the scene
of the performance of many stage plays, chiefly of the French type, which appealed to Charles II. 's
exotic fancy. Some two or three years after Monk's death the premises were transferred to George
From a print pubtiflted in 1796.
WHITEHALL.
A view from the Banqueting House, looking towards Charing Cross.
Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, and later they were purchased by Charles II. for his niece, Princess
Anne, on her marriage. The Princess resided in the apartments until the Revolution of 1688
rendered her presence there inconvenient. Her departure was made under somewhat dramatic
circumstances. At midnight on November 26th, 1688, news having been received of the landing
of the Prince of Orange, she hurriedly put on a travelling cloak, and slipping down the back
stairs of the chambers, took her seat in a hackney coach which was awaiting her, and with
Lord Dorset and Bishop Compton riding on each side of the vehicle as an escort, was driven
to a place previously fixed upon, where she was under the protection of the leaders of the
revolutionary movement. When the storm had blown over, she returned to the Cockpit, but
only for a time. Owing to serious disagreements between Anne and her sister Mary over the
former's devotion to the lady who was afterwards the famous Duchess of Marlborough, the
Princess fled to Berkeley House in Piccadilly, where she remained until after Mary's death,
566
Parliament Past and Present
when St. James's Palace WHS settled upon her by William III. With the expiration of liei
tenancy the history of tin' Cockpit entered ujion a new chapter.
I'p to the reign of Cluirles I. Treasury hii-iness was transacted nt the Exchequer Receipt
Office in Westminster Cloisters; but when Charles II. put the Treasury into commission in
lie i;a\e the (le|iartinent clmml>ers in Whitehall Palace, \vhen« it remained until the fire
of Iti'.'T. which drove it for six weeks to the private house of Mr. William Lowndes, near
We»t minster AhU-v. At the expiration of that time it was transferred to the vacant Cockpit
Chambers, which had escajied the fire, and the possession of which had been granted to it by
the King. This was the beginning of a Ions? and memorable official career for the old pleasure
centre which the eighth Henry had created. I'sed for the transaction of high State business,
it Ix-came in course of time the recognised Ministerial headquarters outside the Palace of
Westminster, just as Downing Street was in a subsequent generation and remains to this
dav. letters wen- dated from it, and inteniews were accorded to personages desiring
audience of Ministers within its precincts. When
the negotiations for the Union with Scotland were
in progress, it was selected as the most convenient
place for the meetings of the Commissioners who
were appointed to draw up the terms. Their
deliberations were so prolonged that Sir Christopher
Wren was directed to enclose a part of the garden
to supply them with a recreation ground. The most
important purpose to which the Cockpit at this
period was devoted, however, was a meeting-place for
the Committee of the Privy Council. It was at a
sitting of this quasi-judicial body, held to investigate
a charge of treason, that the attempt was made on
the life of Robert, Earl of Oxford, by (iuiscard, the
French emigrant. The man was under examination,
when, with a quick movement, he seized a penknife
and made a lunge with it at Harley. inflicting a
slight wound. Before the man could do further
mischief, he was struck down by Lord Paulet and
Mr. St. John with their swords, which they had
drawn immediately the character of the attack
was disclosed. The affair created a tremendous stir
at the time; but, beyond bringing the Earl of
( )xford a much-needed accession of popularity, it
had small influence, as it was discovered that (iuiscard
individual who had acted on a sudden homicidal impulse without any
BENJAMIN FKANKI.IX.
The American i»atriot who, a« the accredited agent of
tlM l«>|mUr party, on January i'th. 1774, prvaeiitvd to the
Committee of the I'riry Council at the Cockpit the ]*titi»n
»f the Colony of Maauchruetu praying for the removal of
tbe Uenunant-(mreni«r, who bad advocated the employ-
ment of military force against tbe coloniftta.
a half-demented
definite jiolitical aim.
Another famous incident in the history of the old Cockpit was the examination before
the Privy Council in 1722. for his complicity in the Jacobite plot, of Bishop Atterbury. prior
to his committal to the Tower. This was the last important event which occurred under the
old roof-tree, if we except the party gatherings which were held there on the eve of the
meet ini; of Parliament in accordance with a practice established during Walpole's Premiership.
In 17:53 the building was pulled down to make way for the three-storied structure designed
by Kent and I/ord Burlington, which was the first of the great blocks of Government offices
which now cover nearly the whole of the district hereabouts. The old name, however, was not
allowed to ili ..... it. Numerous letters written in the year 1736-7 by Horace Waljwle are to
be found in the volumes of the Historical .Manuscripts Commission dated fr ....... The Cockpit."
Bubb Dodington, in his -Diary." under date February 4th, 1752, speaks of going to the
Cockpit "to a prize cause which turned on the authenticity of the Treaty of Commerce with
The Ministerial Annexe of the Palace of Westminster 567
France " ; and he records subsequent visits in connection with " a complaint by Mr. Webb
against Mr. William Sharpe for taking exorbitant fees." The Ministerial meetings for the
purpose of hearing the Koyal speech read on the eve of the meeting of Parliament are stated
in the political literature of the time to have been held at the Cockpit. Again, as a further
piece of evidence to show that the name was familiarly used long after the old buildings had
disappeared, it may be noted that in the Treasury incident bills for 1794 there is an item of
£9 for lighting up " the Cockpit room." Even to this day the Treasury Office is officially
described as "Chambers," in recognition of the circumstance that the building it supplanted
was known as the Cockpit Chambers.
In the face of these facts it is a little remarkable that a lively controversy for some time
raged over the question of the precise site of the old Cockpit. Clearly the Treasury Office
is the lineal successor of the ancient institution, and occupies the same ground. But the
matter does not rest on the evidence of old documents and established tradition alone. Some
time since Sir John Taylor, of His Majesty's Office of Works, took the celebrated old ground
plan of Whitehall and drew upon it a ground plan of the site as it now exists. On this old plan
of 1682, corrected by the present ordnance map, is seen the entrance to the ancient Cockpit,
corresponding almost exactly with the present entrance to the Treasury from Whitehall, and
leading up to the Cockpit, which stood very near the present Board-Boom of the Treasury.1
The history of the transformed Cockpit is for the most part that of a Government office
in which the ordinary prosaic routine duties of an important branch of the executive are
transacted. Still, it is not without its points of popular interest. One incident which
stands prominently out in connection
with the building is the reception here
by a Committee of the Privy Council
of Benjamin Franklin on January 9th,
1774. The great American patriot came
over with a petition from Massachusetts
praying for the removal of the lieu-
tenant-Governor in consequence of a
recommendation he had made in favour
of the employment of military force
to bring the recalcitrant colonists to
submission. We have a picture of him
sitting in a recess " like a rock, his head
resting on his left hand, and in that
attitude abiding the pelting storm " of
invective poured out by Wedderburne,
the Solicitor-General, which affected the
Court spectators to such a degree that
"they gave way to transports of laughter
and loud acclamations." But " he laughs
best who laughs last." Franklin was dis-
missed with contumely on this occasion ;
but it was his duty and pleasure not
many years later, as United States
Ambassador in Paris, to sign the articles
of peace establishing the independence
of America. On that occasion he donned
the self-same suit of Manchester velvet
which he wore when before the Privy
Council.
Prom a. photo by ]V. S.
STAIRCASE AT THE FOBEIGX OFFICE.
One of the most notable architectural features of the interior of the noble pile of
buildings in which the Foreign Department is housed.
' Lord Welby's address at the first annual meeting of the London Topographical Society.
568
Parliament Past and Present
The demolition of the old Cockpit Chambers
led indirectly, if not directly, to tin- tiirtli of another
and e\vn more f'iiiiious Ministerial centre Downing
StriM-t. It may lx> assumed that the building o|iera-
timis, liv depriving Sir Koln-rt Wai pole oft lie suite
of rooms he had Ions,' used, brought into promin-
ence the desirability of the establishment "fa
]>ermanent official residence for the First Minister
of tin- Crown. However that may be, at or alniut
the time when work upon the new Treasury offices
was commenced, we find George II. offering WaljKile.
who with the Premiership filled the otti >f First
Lord of the Treasury, the now historic hou-r. No. 10,
as a personal gift. The property had for some
vears previously been occupied by Baron Bothmar,
the Hanoverian Minister, who had been given a
life tenancy of it by George I., and whose death
about this period permitted of this display of
generosity on the part of the King to his chief
Minister. Wabble was not, as a rule, indisposed
to accept favours from his Sovereign without demur ;
but on this occasion he ahowed a proper appreciation
of what was due to his position rather than to his
person by stipulating that the house should be the
pernrunent residence of the First Lord of the
Treasury. The King's assent to the condition was
given, and so Downing Street became the established
Ministerial headquarters— the Mecca of aspiring
politicians, and the Promised I^ind of experienced statesmanship.
IV fore the political history of this topographically insignificant little thoroughfare is relate,!,
.-.•me reference to its earlier career appears to be demanded. Its name was derived from Sir
George Downing, a versatile American colonist who— as Mr. Choate, the American Ambassador.
reminded a distinguished audience at the Lord Mayor's Banquet on November 9th, 1900— was
the first graduate sent out by the Harvard College in 104^. Finding his way to England,
Downing became a chaplain in Cromwell's army, and so recommended himself to the good
graces of the 1'rotector by his worldly wisdom as much as by his religious zeal, that he was
selected by him in 1657 to fill the office of Ambassador at the Hague. "A sider with all
times ami change-." a- he wa< deseril>ed by one writer, he won the good graces of the Hump,
and when the political liaroiiieter threatened further change, he took care to make his peace
with Charles 11., so that when the monarch "came into his own," he confirmed the appoint-
ment originally made by the Proctector. This was a triumph for Downing'* diplomacy, but it
was not his only achievement in the domain of his private interests. When he returned to
Kngland. as he did soon after the commencement of the new reign, he entered Parliament,
and so wormed his way into Koyal favour by his servile devotion to Court interests that the
King heai>ed substantial favours upon him. One of his rewards, and the most important in
the present connection, was the gift of a valuable tract of land at Westminster on the confines
of the Palace of Whitehall for building purposes. A condition attached to the grant was that
the houses to be built ujion the site should be "handsome and graceful." It was not an
onerous one a.- the standard of architectural taste- went in those days, and it was probably
deemed to have been fulfilled when Downing erected four plain, square, brick mansions with
"back fronts" to St. James's Park, and "with a large terras walk next to the Park," to adopt
the language of an advertisement when the property was offered for sale in 1722.
Prom a pkota by JL JC. Durrani A- Hoa, Torquay.
UK. J. 8. SAXDABS,
Print* StcnUrj to Mr. Rilfoar tince 1893.
s
I
i
i
a
o
The Ministerial Annexe of the Palace of Westminster 569
The "street" thus created by Downing underwent little change for a good many years.
Towards the end of the seventeenth century it is described as " a pretty open place, especially
at the upper. end, where are four or five very large well-built houses fit for persons of honour
and quality, each house having a pleasant prospect into St. James's Park, with a terras walk."
Gradually, however, other houses were added, until at the end of the eighteenth century it
had become, if not a " mean street," a street in which shabby houses predominated, the line
of dingy buildings being finished off at the King Street end by a chop-house known by the
whimsical title of '• The Cat and Bagpipes." Many of the residences -were lodging-houses, to
which, in the course of years, resorted not a few men who have left their mark on literature.
Boswell, the biographer of Johnson, was a patron of one of the establishments, and he records
in his well-known work how, but for the rudeness of his landlord, he would have entertained
Johnson, Goldsmith, and other of his literary friends at supper one evening in July, 1763.
Smollett is another illustrious name associated with the thoroughfare. He made a desperate
bid for fortune as a surgeon in a house vacated by the death of a practitioner named James
Douglas in 1744. Here died on October 17th, 1776, the Abbe Courayer, author of the
"Defence of the Validity of English Ordinations," the talented writer who was described as
"the best pen in France, the
most amiable and most gener-
ally beloved in his Order —
Catholique en ;/ros, Protestant
en detail." Gibbon's name, too,
deserves to be remembered when
the literary memories of Down-
ing Street are reviewed. He
was a frequent visitor there, at
the mansion of his patron, Lord
Sheffield. But, of course, it is
in its political history that this
obscure little alley off Whitehall
finds its chief title to fame.
The official record of Down-
ing Street opens on Monday,
September 22nd, 1735. On that
day, according to the newspapers
of the time, Sir Robert Walpole
transferred himself and his be-
longings from his house in St.
James's Square to the famous
No. 10 — entering into possession,
we may imagine, with a glow of
pride at the thought that the
First Lord was at last to have
an official habitation suited to
his rank and convenience. He
found the residence altogether to
his liking, for he occupied it
almost continuously while in
London during the remainder of
his official life. The place seems
even to have suited the fastidious
taste of Horace Walpole, who
acted as his father's private
(•</<;/ artt-c the picture by J. P. Kniyftt, A.Ii.A.
NELSON AND WELLINGTON,
In the waiting-loom at the Colonial Office. September, 1S05.
72
570
Parliament Past and Present
.•!:uv. We find him waxing quite enthusiastic over the advantages it off.-red i':j,fnpos of
Sir IJ.ilx-rt Wal|M>le's then imi>ending n-t ireinent from official lite. In a Idler addressed to Sir
Horace .Mann on June :>0th. 1712. he s:iy<: -I am writing to you in on.- of the charming
rooms towards the Park ; it is a lovely evening, and I am willing to enjoy this sweet corner
while 1 mav. for we are MMUI to i|iiit it. .Mrs. Sandys came yesterday to y;i\v us warning ^
I»rd Wilmington has lent it to them. Sir Kohert might have had it for his own at fir>t.
hut would only take it as First l/>rd of the Treasury. He g.»es into a small house- of his
own in Arlington Street, ophite to where we formerly lived." The .Mr-. Sandys referred to
liv the writer w.i- the wife of Samuel Sandys, Chancellor of the Exchequer in the Kirl «\
Wilmington's Admini-t ration. Some authorities mention Lord Carteret as the first occupant
of No. 10 after Sir Kohert Walpole's departure, hut the passage quoted seems to indicate that
this was not the case. The explanation jwssihly is that the tenancy of Sandys was a purely
temjmrary and domestic affair, and that Lord Carteret, Secretary of State in the new Ad-
ministration, first officially occupied the house in succession to Walpole. The latter, at all
events, was the leading political personage in the Ministry. This is shown by the well-
known lines of Charles II. \Villiam-. the
satirical versifier, on Pulteney's decay
of power on his elevation to the House
of Lords : —
Few now aspire at your pood graces,
Scarce any sue to you for ]>l.irr>,
Since all mankind perceive that pow'r
Is lodged in other hands.
Sooner to Carteret now they'll go,
Or ev'n (though that's excessive low)
To Wilmington and Sandys.
Even if the residence was for a brief
period diverted from the specific use-
assigned to it under the deed gift of
George II., the arrangement did not
influence its historic destiny. Pelham.
on becoming Prime Minister in 1743r
went into residence in Downing Street.
and from that time to the present day,
with a few notable exceptions, the house
was occupied, as a matter of course, by
the head of a Ministry on his accession
to power.
The elder Pitt was never greatly
attracted by the charm of Downing
Street. Though he occupied the official
residence for a time, he mainly, when
in office, divided his attention between
Hayes and his house in Bond SI reel.
At this period Downing Street does not
appear to have come into vogue as an
official address. Most of the great statesman's formal communications were superscribed
simply '•Whitehall." During I»rd Bute's Premiership the official residence was put to
good service. The Minister lived there in some state, and used the adjacent Cockpit Chambers
for his periodical levees. Lord North, too, found the atmosphere of Downing Street congenial
But it was during the tenure of office of the younger Pitt that the house, perhaps, attained
from a photo I'll Jthifi'itittttfi, Ktlto.
TIM: HON. silt M-HOMHKH<; M
1'cir many jean Private Secretary to the MarqnU o
The Ministerial Annexe of the Palace of Westminster 571
LORD SALISBURY'S ROOM AT THE FOREIGN OFFICE.
Xow occupied by Lord Lansdowne. The apartment in which his Lordship usually received his diplomatic visitors during his long tenure of the
Foreign Secretaryship.
its highest distinction. Unlike his father, Pitt was much drawn to the sedate house with
a " back front " to St. James's Park. According to his own statement, during all his long
years of power he never slept away from Downing Street unless compelled to do so by the
strongest reasons. In his time some momentous interviews must have taken place in the
dingy rooms of No. 10. In long procession passed through the official portals the men who
made history in the memorable period when Britain, with her back to the wall, was fighting
a world in arms. Here came on an eventful night Lord Spencer, the then First Lord of
the Admiralty, to give Pitt the first intimation of the mutiny at the Nore, and to receive
instructions from him as to the action to be taken in reference to the disturbing out-
break. Even less welcome visitors were a howling mob who, inflamed with sensational
stories of the excesses of recruiting sergeants engaged in strengthening the military forces to
meet the grave crisis in national affairs, tumultuously assembled in Downing Street and
demonstrated in a somewhat alarming fashion, until they were dispersed by the peace officers.
Their invasion of the official precincts caused a great sensation, but Pitt himself appears to
have regarded the incident lightly, judging from a letter he addressed to his mother.
Lady Chatham, in response to her anxious inquiries. •' I take shame to myself," he said,
'• for not reflecting how much a mob is magnified by report ; but that which visited my
window with a single pebble was really so young and so little versed in its business that
it hardly merited the notice of a newspaper." Besides these stirring political memories of
Pitt's occupation, details have come down to us of a purely personal and domestic interest
which throw considerable light upon his household arrangements. Careless of money
matters, his affairs during his first Premiership got into a terrible state of confusion. His
intimate friend, Kobert Smith, whose good offices were enlisted to straighten out matters,
found a strange condition of things. A butcher's bill of £96 for one month's supply was
one item which confronted the investigator. Other claims were on the same grand scale.
572
Parliament Past and Present
I. ..HI) 8ALISBCKYS KOtOI AT THE PBIVY SEAL (UTICi:.
It wu in tliU apartment that the late Premier spent the cloning day* of hU official career.
There was waste and ruinous profusion on all hands. In his absorbing devotion to State
affairs Pitt quite overlooked the elementary obligations <>f tin- head of a household, with
the ]>erhaps inevitable result that he was carried to the brink of bankruptcy. It is a
tribute to his lavish hospitality that to this day one of the principal chambers at No. 10
is known as •• I'itt's dining-room," though a long succession of Premiers followed him in the
occupation of the hoti-e.
In the nineteenth century Downing Street well maintained the interesting traditions built
up in the years which had followed the grant of No. 10 to Walpole. Consequent upon the
growth of official business, the (loverninent from time to time purchased property in the street
near the First Lord's residence. One of the houses so acquired was No. 12, which is now the
official residence of the Chancellor of the Exchequer. Another was No. 14, a building which
shortly after its acquisition was rendered famous by being the scene of the only meeting
which ever took place between Wellington and Nelson. The episode was described by
Wellington in a conversation he had with John Wilson Croker. In this the great soldier is
p-pri-M-nted as saying: "1 only saw Nelson once in my life, and perhaps for an hour. It \va-
soon after I returned from India. I went to the Colonial Office in Downing Street, and there
I was shown into a little waiting-room on the right hand, where I found also waiting to see
the Secretary a gentleman who. from the likeness to his picture and from the loss of an
arm. I recognised a- I^ord Nelson. He could not know who I was. but entered at once into
conversation with me. if I can call it conversation, for it was almost all on his side, and all
alxmt himself, and in really a style so vain and so .-illy as to surprise and almost di«i,rust me."
Nelson >uh>cquently left the room, and returning later, having in the interim ascertained
who Wellington wa». reopened the conversation. His manner, says Wellington, had completely
changed. "All that 1 had thought a charlatan style had vanished, and In- talked of the state
of tlii< country and of the- aspect and probabilities of affairs on the Continent with a good
,-ense and a knowledge of subjects both at home and abroad that surpriM-d me equally and
more agreeably than the first jwirt of our interview had done; in fact, he talked like an officer
and a state-man."
The Ministerial Annexe of the Palace of Westminster 573
Another singular reminiscence preserved of the Downing Street of this period relates to
an unexpected meeting between two other historical characters. Pichegru and his companions
had met in one of the offices to consult a high official under the Duke of Portland. As they
entered, a man sitting in a corner darted forward and exclaimed, '; You are saved ! Then all
my misfortunes are forgotten." Startled at the apparently strange conduct of the individual,
Pichegru drew back. But he soon afterwards recognised in the emaciated figure which con-
fronted him. his chivalrous friend, Tilly, the American sea-captain, by whose aid he and his
companions had escaped from the fortress of Surinam.
Changes made in Downing Street by the substitution for the congeries of shabby
tenements which during more than a century served for the discharge of the nation's business,
of stately blocks of Government buildings, led to the gradual extinction of all interests save
those of high officialdom, until No. 10 and Nos. 11 and 12, Downing Street, were left in
the position of splendid isolation in which we now see them. Before this stage in the
history of the street was reached, the intermingling of officialdom and trade was productive
of some curious incidents, according to Sir Edward Hertslet, whose volume of reminiscences
was recently published. It seems that the building which served as a Foreign Office over-
looked a millinery establishment in which a number of young ladies were employed. The
youngest clerks in the department, who were relegated to one of the upper floors,
finding time hang somewhat heavily on their hands, amused themselves on bright summer
days in manipulating a mirror and flashing the bright rays of the sun upon the faces
of the workers in the opposite building. A complaint was lodged by the proprietor with
the permanent head of the department, and the matter was brought to the notice of
Lord Palmerston, who was then Foreign Minister. Palmerston dealt with the incident in
characteristic fashion. Upon the margin of the letter of complaint he wrote: "Who are
the unmannerly youths who have been casting reflections on young ladies opposite?" The
good-humoured endorsement had its effect. From that time forward the industrious milliners
th.io by W. S. CamplK.ll.
1100M AT THE FOREIGN OFFICE WHERE THE CABINET COUNCILS ARE HELD.
Most of the Cabinet Councils of recent years have been held in tl.is abutment.
574
Parliament Past and Present
from apkvto ly Auyntliti Kti>
Mi. In. |in\VXlX<: STItKKT : TIIK 1MUVATK SKCUKTAHY'S BOOM.
Mr, GUcUb'ne when Premier used this apartment as bis workroom.
plied their avocations free from the embarrassing attentions of the idle official apprentices
across the way.
No. 10, Downing Street, in the past century has been in almost continuous occupation by
the. First I»rd of the Treasury of the day. The periods during which its tenant was other
than the holder of the great office were comparatively brief. Even when — as in the case of
the late Mr. W. H. Smith — the residence was not actually occupied as a home, it was utilised
for official purposes, and in the eyes of the public at least enjoyed all the prestige which
attached to it under more favoured auspices. Perhaps the most devoted of the modern
occupants of the house was Lord Beaconsfield. The great statesman, calm and imperturbable
a> lie was in public life, had his sentimental side, and one of his weaknesses — if such it may
be called — was an inordinate love for the traditional in all that concerned the high office to
which he had climbed, lie felt peculiar pride in occupying tin- same rooms in which had
mused and planned and contrived a long succession of the nation's greatest men. Immersed
though In- was in public affairs at the time he entered into possession, he yet found the
opportunity to carry through a most elaborate scheme of decoration at a cost of between two and
three thousand pounds. With excellent taste he had the principal rooms renovated in the style
of the early (ieorgian period — a delicate compliment to the Koval donor of the house and its
first official occupier which would have warmed even the cold heart of Horace Walpole had he
lived to take note of it.
1-ord Beacotisfield's great political rival, Mr. Gladstone, though perhaps less sentimentally
attached to the old house, was very much at home there. Its situation accorded well
with his restless activity both of body and mind. A great worker at all times, he found
The Ministerial Annexe of the Palace of Westminster 575
it possible here to get through a maximum of business in a minimum period of time.
A great walker in all seasons, he liked the convenience which the house afforded for
the solitary rambles which he conducted to the end of his official life as an agreeable
recreation after the tumult of the Legislative Chamber, or the arduous toil of the bureau.
His habit of unrestrained movement was a source of some anxiety in the height of the
Land War in Ireland, when assassination and outrage " stalked abroad," not only in Ireland,
but in England. Detectives were then posted about Downing Street to protect the aged
statesman from attack. The close supervision maintained over his outgoings and his incomings
proved highly irksome to the right honourable gentleman, and the story goes that to circumvent
his guardians he was in the habit of slipping out by the back door into St. James's Park,
leaving his ordinary hat hanging in the hall to give the impression that he was still at home.
The device answered for a time, at all events, and no untoward circumstances attended the
unaccompanied walks. But it was with a feeling of considerable relief that the police
authorities were finally enabled by the improved state of affairs to abandon their duty of
watching over their illustrious but wayward charge.
Since this stormy period No. 10 has had its share in the making of history. In
the most recent times Cabinet meetings have been held more frequently at the Foreign Office
than at the First Lord's residence. But it has, nevertheless, been at intervals the centre of
great political activity and excitement. One of the few episodes of a tragic character
associated with its official existence occurred On January 12th, 1887. On that day the Earl of
Iddesleigh, who, as Sir Stafford Northcote, led the House of Commons with conspicuous ability
for many years, called to see the then First Lord of the Treasury. He was waiting in one of
the ante-rooms on the first floor when he was seized with illness, and almost immediately
From a photo by Augitstin Itischffitz.
NO. 10, DOWNING STREET : THE COUNCIL CHAMBER.
Cabinet Councils were formerly held here. It is now used by Mr. Balfour for performing his official work.
576
Parliament Past and Present
expinil. It inav lx- n.,t,-(l in iia—ing that the melancholy incident finds two rather clo>e
|>arallels in ]M>)itical lii>tnrv. It xva- I" a hou-e in l>o\\ning Street that the girat Karl of
Chatham was taken after his fatal sei/nre in the House of Lmls. To his resilience in
\Vlnt--hall (iarden>. on the op|M..-ite side of Whitehall. Sir li ihert I 'eel was conveyed on
.linn- 2!>th. 1HJO. after his fatal fall from his horse on Constitution Hill, and there he died
on .Inly 2nd follow in-,'.
l."id Salisburv. almost alone amongst the great Prune Ministers, never set foot in
in. I (owning Street, a.s a tenant. lli~ lordship's family house in Arlington Street, it is to be
toppoted, was too OOOvenienl and comfortable to lie relinquished lightly for the official residence,
with its glare of publicity, and its manifold disadvantages to one of the Mudious brut of mind
anil retiring di-po-iiion of the ex-1'remier. L>rd Salisbury's work and interests centred during
the years of his Premiership almost exclusively in the Foreign Office. In the -.lately precincts
of that splendid building he had his official workshop. There he held his weekly diplomatic
receptions, and received such callers as had legitimate claims upon his attention. There he
dis]H-iised at regular intervals magnificent hospitality to the great world of politics and diplomacy.
Lite in his career as Premier, when he exchanged the office of Foreign .Minister for that of
I/ml Privy Seal, he found, with his devoted private secretary, the Hon. Sir Sehomherg
McDonnell, (fating the remainder of his active public career, an official home in the Pi ivy Seal
Office. When the full historv of the later nineteenth cent ury comes to be written.it will have
much to tell of the important and possibly stirring events which have taken place in the rooms
which are identified with his Premiership. Meanwhile, we must rest content with the faithful
record which the photographer gives of the rooms as they were during Lord Salisbury's
occupation.
liefore the official quarter is quitted, something may appropriately be said about the
internal arrangements of the historic No. 10, for there are few houses in London to which
notable traditions attach which ha\e been so little visited by the ordinary public. Outwardly
the aspect of the house rather repels than
invites curiosity, and it must lie confessed
that closer acquaintance with it does not
remove the impression that the place i-
not quite what might be expected of the
official residence of the executive head of
the greatest Empire the world has ever seen.
It is just a plain town house of an old-
fashioned type, with appointments which for
the most part are distinctly inferior to those
of the majority of residences of fairly well-
to-do people. What there is of exceptional
charm or interest in a decorative sense in
the appointments is due to the excellent
taste of .Mr. Hal four, the Premier, the present
occupant, who has surrounded himself, as
far as the arrangements of the house allow,
with works and objects of art of special
attractiveness and value.
On the ground floor are the secretarial
apartments plainly furnished rooms whose
appearance eloquently testifies to the
practical uses to which they are put. Ad-
joining them i» perhaps the inoM famous
CAPTAIN- T. n. BUTLER apartment in any private house in the
Yeoman c.hw of the DIM* Roj, HOOK of Lord*. Kinpire — the Council Chamber, in which
The Ministerial Annexe of the Palace of Westminster 577
successive Cabinets have met since 185G, and in which some of the most momentous Ministerial
decisions in English history have been come to. Apart from the double locks, double doors,
and double windows with which the room is equipped, there is little in it to suggest its
remarkable record. The ceiling, a somewhat lofty one, is supported on classic columns, and the
walls are occupied with book-cases and a few pictures of no great merit. The window affords
a, pleasant outlook on St. James's Park. Immediately below it is a terrace- — the "terras" of
the advertisement — upon which, during protracted sittings of the Cabinet, Ministers have on
From a photo by A ur/iiitthi Itisclrgitz.
NO. 10, DOWNING STHEET : THE " PITT " DINING-ROOM,
Named after the celebrated statesman. Here the Ministerial full-dress dinner?, which precede the opening of Parliament, are held.
occasions aired themselves, to the edification of a curious political crowd down below on the
public roadway. At present the apartment serves the purposes of a workroom for Mr. Balfour,
and it is furnished simply and plainly, neither better nor worse than the office of any successful
business man. A writing-table naturally occupies a prominent place in the room, but it is not
much used by the Premier. He prefers to do his writing standing, and his chief work-place
is a high desk placed near the window so as to have the full benefit of the light. Looking
around this unassuming chamber, the visitor finds it difficult to believe that it is actually what
it is — the Holy of Holies of British statesmanship.
A more impressive note is struck when the next floor is reached, and the intruder steps
into the principal drawing-room, which is situated immediately above the Council Chamber.
It is here that Lord Beaconsfield found the greatest scope for his zeal for renovation. The
general scheme of colour is cream and gold. The embellishments are most elaborate and, on
the whole, highly effective. On the walls are many portraits of former First Lords of the
Treasury, the oldest picture being a work dated 1633 by an unknown artist representing, it
is believed, Lord Portland. Amongst the modern works are portraits of Lord Beaconsfield,
Mr. Gladstone, and Lord Kosebery. Next to this handsome room is a smaller apartment used
also for reception purposes. A white marble mantelpiece of fine design and a beautiful old mirror
compete with a number of pictures from Mr. Balfour's collection for the attention of the
73
578
Parliament Past and Present
visitor n« he jmsses through on his way to the morning-room. This is the Premier's favourite
a]>artiii'-iit. It commands n lieautiful pro>pect over St. .lames's Park, and pos>il>ly may have
been the Helf-same room in which Horace Wai pole wrote so enthusiastically of No. 10 on
tlmt beautiful summer evening in 1742. Another fine apartment is that known a~ -Pitt's
dining-room " — so called because the chamber was built during the great statesman's
Premiership. On the walls hang several of Sir Edward Burne-Jone-'s pictures — including his
last work — which were brought to Ilowning Street by -Mr. Balfour. Next to the Council
Chamber, this room lias the greatest associations of any in the house. Here for many year-.
with occasional interruptions, the Mini.-terial full-dress dinners which precede the owning of
Parliament have Ix-en lield, and quc.-tions of jK)licy confidentially discussed over the reading of
the Koval s]>eech to IH> submitted to the two Houses on the morrow. In ti s when political
feeling ran high, the gatherings mn>t have been full of interest. On all occasions, having
regard to the elements brought together and the strictly confidential diameter of the proceed-
ings, the dinners could not fail to produce incidents of more than ]»issing note. Below this,
dining-room is "Pitt's kitchen," a chamber conceived on a scale which might be imagined
from the magnificence of the statesman's tradesmen's bills. A number of smaller apartments.
chieflv devoted to official puqioses, and suites of bedrooms complete the establishment.
The Chancellor of the Exchequer's official residence does not present the same points of
interest (Hissessed bv its neighbours. Nevertheless, it has a history which is worth recounting.
Acquired early in the last century for office purposes, it became in time to be regarded as an
apjwinage of the Finance Minister's office. .Mr. (Jladst one, as Chancellor of the Exchequer, lived
in it in 1854. and again for some time previous to 1866. Sir Stafford Northcote (I^ord Iddes-
leigh). when Chancellor, was a tenant from 1874 to 1880. Subsequently for a time two of
Mr. Ulad-tone's private secretaries were permitted to reside in the house. Sir Michael Hicks-
Keach was an occupant both as Chancellor of the Exchequer and President of the Hoard of
Trade, and Sir William Hareourt was in residence from 1892 to 1895. In recent times the
building has been a good deal altered, notably in 1879-80, when a large room for official
banquets and deputations was added.
Occupying, as the official residences do, a valuable site in the heart of the official quarter.
acting as a slender wedge of drab brickwork in the centre of a block of massive masonry, they
will most probablv, before many years have elapsed, give place to structures more ornate and
better adapted to the purposes to which they are put. But whether they disappear or not,
Downing Street is a name which will live in the annals of statesmanship and of diplomacy.
» o « * » •
CONCLUSION.
Here we must bring our long survey to a close. There are many jwints connected with
the work of Parliament which might still be touched upon and byways of political life which
could yet be explored with interest and profit. But, tempting as the inducements are to
wander into fresh fields, the limits of space imposed inexorably call a halt. Inadequate, how-
ever, as the work necessarily is in many respects, having regard to the immensity of the
theme, probably sufficient has been written to induce the general reader to make closer
acquaintance with the remarkable history of the Palace of Westminster, and with the moving
record of the Mother of Parliaments which has had its home there. If this end is accom-
plished, the labours of the authors will not have been entirely in vain.
APPENDIX.
PARLIAMENTS OF ENGLAND.
15 John .
. 1213
10 Edward III.
. 1336
20 Richard II. .
10 Henry III. .
. 1226
10 . .
. 1336-7
21
38 .
1254
11 • •
. 1336-7
23
45
. 1261
11 . .
1337
1 Henry IV. .
49 -
. 1264-5
12 . .
. 1337-8
2
3 Edward I. .
. 1275
12 . .
. 1338
3
11 •
. 1282-3
12 and 13 Edward III.
. 1338-9
3
11 • •
1283
13 Edward III.
. 1339
5 ,
18 . .
1290
13 „ . .
. 1339-40
0
22 . .
1294
14 . .
. 1340
7
23 . .
. 1295
14 „ . ' .
. 1340
9
24 . .
. 1296
15 „ . .
. 1341
11
25 , . .
. 1297
16 , . .
1342
13
26 .
1298
17
. 1343
14
28 . .
. 1299-1300
18
. 1344
1 Henry V. .
28 . .
. 1300
20 , .
. 1346
2
29 . .
. 1300-1
21 , . .
. 1347-8
2
30 . .
1302
22
. 1348
3
33
1204 5
22
1348-9
3
34 , . .
. 1306
25 . .
. 1350-1
4
35 .
. 1306-7
25
. 1351-2
5 , ' .
1 Edward II. .
. 1307
26 . .
. 1352
7
1 „ . - . '
. 1307-8
27 . .
. 1353
8
2 „ ...
. 1309
28 .
. 1354
9
5 „ . .
. 1311
29 . .
1355
9
5 „ . .
. 1311
31 . .
. 1*37
1 Henry VI. .
. .
. 1311-12
32 . .
. 1357-8
2
6 „ . .
. 1312
34 . .
. 1360
3 ;; :
6 , . .
. 1312 13
34 . .
. 1360-1
4
7
. 1313
36 . .
1362
6
7 „ . .
. 1313
37 . .
1363
8
7 ., . .
. 1314
38 . .
. 1364-5
9
8 „ . .
. 1314
40 . .
. 1366
10
8 „ . .
. 1314 15
42 „ . .
. 1368
11
» „ • •
. 1315-16
43 „
. 1369
14
9
1316
45 . .
. 1370-1
15
10 .
. 1316
45
1371
18
11 • •
1318
46 . .
. 1372
20 „
12 . .
. 1318
47 . .
. 1373
23
12 . .
. 1319
50 . .
. 1375-6
25
14 . .
1320
51 •
. 1376-7
27
15
1321
1 Richard II. .
. 1377
28
15 „ . .
1322
2 „ . . •
. 1378
29
16 . .
. 1322
2 „ . .
. 1379
31
17 . .
. 1323-4
3 „ . .
. 1379-80
33
18 . .
1324
4 „ . .
1380
38 ,
19 „ • >
1325
5 . .
1381
39
20 „
. 1326-7
5
. 1382
1 Edward IV.
1 Edward III.
1327
6 „ . .
1382
3 „
2 „ . .
. 1327-8
6 , -
. 1382-3
7
2 „ . .
. 1328
7 „ . .
. 1383
9
2
. 1328
7
. 1384
10
2 and 3 Edward III.
. 1328-9
8
1384
12 . „
4 Edward III.
. 1329-30
9 ., . .
1385
17
4 „ . .
. 1330
10 . .
1386
22
. .
. 1331
11 • •
. 1387-8
1 Richard III.
5 .
. 1331
12 „ . .
. 1388
1 Henry VII.
6 „ . .
. 1331-2
13 „ - -
. 1389-90
3
6 „ . .
. 1332
14 . .
. 1390
7
6
. 1332
15
. 1391
11
8
. 1333-4
16 ., ; .
1392
12
8
. 1334
16 . .
. 1392-3
1 Henry VIII.
9
. 1335
17 ., . . .
. 1393-4
3
10 .
. 1335-6
18 . .
. 1394-5
6
1396-7
1397-8
1399
1399
1400-1
1401-2
1402
1403
1404
1405-6
1407
1409-10
1411
1412-13
1413
1413-14
1414
1415
1415-16
1416
1417
1419
1420
1421
1421
1422
1423
1425
1425-6
1427
1429
1430-1
1432
1433
1435
1436-7
1439
1441-2
1444-5
1446-7
1448-9
1449
1450
1452-3
1455
1459
1460
1461
1462-3
1467
1469
1470
1472
1477-8
1482-3
1483-4
1485
1487
1491
1495
1496-7
1509-10
1511-12
1514-15
579
58o
Appendix
PARLIAMENTS OF ENGLAND-c«»'""«v/.
U Henry VIII.
-
31
33
37
1 Kdwanl VI.
! Mary' . '.
I ami 2 Philip
i and 3
4 and 5
1 Klixalwth
5 " v
H ,
27
--
and Mary
1523
3<> and 31 Kli/aMh
1529
:(.'. Kli/alx'th .
1536
3ji
1MB
•13
. 1541 2
1 James I.
. 1515
12 . .
. 1517
is .
. 1552 3
21
. 1553
1 Charles I. .
. 1554
1
Y I.V.I
3 „ . .
1666
16 . .
1667-8
16 Charles I. (Long
1558-9
liament) .
1502 3
Interregnum .
1572
ii
1584
ii • •
1586
1'ar
l.v-
150:! 3
ir-i 17
1001
1603-4
1014
n;20-i
1023-4
Interregnum .
l2CharTes 11. .'
13 Charles II. (Tin- Ix>ng
or Pensionary 1'ar-
liaineiit) .
31 Charles 11. .
31
1668 :•
L668
1660
iaei
io7;i
IflU
1025-6
1027-8
1640
1640
1653
1654
1656
:w „ ...
1 James II. .
Convention
•1 William anil .Mary
7 William 111.
1"
« „ . .
13
1 Anne ....
I.NH i
1686
His- !Hi
lOVI !M'
li in:,
1696
Kim 1
1701
1709
PARLIAMENTS OF GREAT BRITAIN.
I Anne .
7 ...
. 17u.-,
. 1708
. 1710
1 George 11.
8
15
.
IS „ .
. 1713
21
1 (;e«.rge I. .
8
. 1711 K.
. 17-':!
27
1 George III.
1727
1734
1741
1747
1754
1761
8 George III.
!••
21
24
30 „
36
1768
1771
1780
17s I
1790
1796
PARLIAMENTS OF THE UNITED KINGDOM.
41 George III.
•I-'
41;
47
.-.3
68
1 George IV.
1 William IV
1
1801
1802
IHtHi
1818
1820
1886
is:wi
3 William IV.
5
1 \ ictona
••'
11
16
20
-'-'
28
1833
1815
1841
1847
1852
1857
1859
1865
32 Victoria
37
43
49
50
66
59
64
1 Ed ward VII.
]sr;s
1874
1880
1885
1886
1889
1896
1900
1901
PARLIAMENTS AND CONVENTIONS OF THE ESTATES OF
SCOTLAND.
David II. . .
1357-67
1434 5
.l.uii' - II.
James 111.
.l.ilii.- V. .
M.,i>
James VI.
40 Jinn.'- VI. .
50
. .
1 |ss"|.-(',!i
1513 Id
1507 I0o;»
1012
1017
1017
54 James VI. .
54 and 55 James VI.
1 ( 'harles I. .
4-9
6 ., ...
15-17 Charles I. .
20 22 " '. !
23 Charles I.— 3 Charles
II
12-15 Charles II.
1021
17 Charles 1 1. .
f
1025
18 ,, . .
21-28 Charles II. .
102S-33
30
1630
33
1639 41
1 and 2 James
VII.
1013 1
1 William and
Mary
1011 7
1 5
7 13 William
10 is :,1
1 Anne .
1001-3
2-6 Anne
.
Ki(i7
ICIiil 71
. 167s
. 1681
. lea", i;
1689
1689-1702
PARLIAMENTS HELD IN IRELAND.
l.vvi .Ian. 12 t
1568 „ 17
\|iril -2<;
Hil3 May 1-
K;:»I July 14
I •;:•,:» Man-h 16
IWI May 8
o 1. -,:,!» Feb. 1
1571 April :!.•>
1686 Mav 14
1015 Oct. -1\
1035 April is
10 is Jan. 30
1000 Augusts
10!!:! Oct. 5 to
10!»5 August 27 „
I7K3 Sept. -21 „
1713 Nov. •>:,
1715 „ 12 „
28
10!I3 June 20
10!!!! „ 14
1713 May 6
1714 August 1
1727 June 11
1760 Oct. 25
1701 Oct. 22
1769 „ 17
1776 June 18
1783 Oct. 14
Hay 21 p
1798 Jan. 9
to
I7os May 28
1776 April 5
I7s:i July 25
1790 April 8
1797 July 11
1800
Appendix
581
LORD CHANCELLORS AND KEEPERS OF THE GREAT SEAL.
The following is a list of the Lord High
of England : —
1067. Maurice, Bishop of London.
1068. Herfast, afterwards Bishop of Elm-
hain.
1070. Osbern. Bishop of Exeter.
1073. Osmund, Bishop of Salisbury.
1078. Maurice, Bishop of London.
1083. William de Beaufeau, Bishop of Thet-
fort.
1086. William Gifford.
1090. Robert Bloet,
1093. Waldric.
1094. William Giffard, Bishop of Winchester.
1101. Roger, Bishop of Salisbury.
1103. William Giffard.
1104. Waldric.
1107. Ranulf.
1124. Geoffrey Rufus.
1135. Roger of Salisbury.
1139. Philip.
1 142. Theobald, Archbishop of Canterbury.
1154. Thomas a Beeket.
1173. Ralph de Warneville.
1182. Geoffrey Plantagenet, Archbishop of
York.
1 1 89. William de Longchamp.
1197. Eustace, Bishop of Ely.
1199. Hubert Walter, Archbishop of Canter-
bury.
1205. Walter de Grey, Archbishop of York.
1213. Peter des Roches, Bishop of Winchester.
1214. Walter de Grey.
„ Richard de Marisco.
1226. Ralph Neville.
1238. Simon de Cantilupe.
1240. Richard, Abbot of Evesham.
1242. Silvester of Eversden.
1246. John Mansel.
1250. William de Kilkenny.
1255. Henry Wingham, Bishop of London.
1258. Walter de Merton, Bishop of Rochester.
1260. Nicholas of Ely.
1261. Walter de Merton.
1263. Nicholas of Ely.
1265. Thomas de Cantilupe.
„ Walter Gifford.
1266. Godfrey Gifford.
1268. John Chishull.
Chancellors and Lord Keepers of the Great Seal
1269. Richard Middleton.
1272. John Kirkeby.
„ Walter de Merton.
1273. Robert Burnell.
1292. John Langton.
1302. William Greenfield.
1304. William Hamilton.
1307. Ralph de Baldock.
„ John Langton.
1310. Walter Reynolds, Bishop of Win-
chester.
1314. John Sandall.
1318. John Hotham, Bishop of Ely.
1320. John Salmon, Bishop of Norwich.
1323. Robert de Baldock.
1327. John Hotham.
„ Henry de Clyff. . •
„ Henry de Burghersh, Bishop of Lincoln.
1330. John Stratford, Bishop of Winchester.
1334. Richard Bury, Bishop of Durham.
1335. John Stratford, Archbishop of Canter-
bury.
1337. Robert Stratford.
1338. Richard Bynterworth, Bishop of
London.
1340. Archbishop Stratford.
„ Robert Stratford, Bishop of Chichester.
„ William Kildesby.
„ Sir Robert Bourchier.
1341. Sir Robert Parnyng.
1343. Robert Sadyngton.
1345. John Utford.
1349. John Thoresby, Bishop of St. Davids.
1356. William Edington, Bishop of Win-
chester.
1363. Simon Langham, Bishop of Ely.
1367. William of Wykeham, Bishop of
Winchester.
1371. Sir Robert Thorpe.
1372. Sir Richard Scrope.
„ Sir John Knyvett.
1377. Adam Houghton, Bishop of St. Davids.
1378. Sir R. Scrope.
1379. Simon of Sudbury, Archbishop of
Canterbury.
1381. Richard, Earl Arundel.
1382. Robert Braybrook, Bishop of London.
582
1383.
1386.
L8M
1391.
1396.
L8M
HOI.
1403.
1405.
1407.
1410.
1412.
1413.
1417.
1422.
1424.
1426.
1432.
1450.
1454.
1455.
145C.
1460.
1463.
1467.
1473.
1475.
1483.
1485.
1487.
1500.
1504.
1525.
1529.
1532.
1544.
1547.
1551.
1553.
1556.
1558.
Appendix
Sir Michael de la Pole.
Thomas Arundel, Archbishop of
Canterbury.
William of Wykeham.
Archbishop Anindel.
1-M mum I Stafford, Bishop of Exeter.
Archbishop Annul. -1.
John Searle.
Kilimiiiil Stafford.
Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Lincoln.
Thomas Jjingley, Bishop of Durham.
Thomas Anindel.
Thomas Beaufort, Earl of Dorset.
Archbishop Arundel.
Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Win-
chester.
Bishop Longley.
Simon Ganstede.
Henry Beaufort.
John Kemp, Bishop of London.
John Stafford, Bishop of Bath and
Wells.
John Kemp, Archbishop of York.
Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury.
Thomas Bourchier, Archbishop of
Canterbury.
William of Waynflete, Bishop of
Winchester.
Thomas Bourchier, Archbishop of
Canterbury.
Robert Kirkeham.
Robert Stillington, Bishop of Bath
and Wells.
I^awrence Booth, Bishop of Durham.
Thomas Rotheram, Bishop of Lincoln.
John Russell, Bishop of Lincoln.
Thomas Barowe.
Bishop Alcock.
Archbishop Morton.
Henry Deane.
William Warham, Archbishop of
Canterbury.
Cardinal Wolsey.
Sir Thonms More.
Sir Thomas Audley.
Thomas. Ixird Wriothesley.
William Paulet. I/onl St. John.
Thomas Goodrich, Bishop of Ely.
Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Win-
chester.
Nicholas Heath, Archbishop of York.
Sir Nicholas Bacon.
1579.
1587.
1591.
1592.
1596.
1617.
1621.
1625.
1640.
1641.
1645.
1649-
1 660.
1667.
1672.
1675.
1682.
1685.
1689-
1693.
1700.
1705.
1710.
1714.
1718.
1725.
1733.
1737.
1757.
1766.
1770.
1771.
1778.
1793.
1801.
1806.
1807.
1827.
1830.
1834.
1836.
1841.
1846.
1850.
1852.
1858.
1859.
1861.
1865.
1866.
Sir Thomas Bromley.
Sir Chri>topher Mutton.
William Cecil. Lord Burghley.
Sir John Puckering.
Sir Thomas ly^erton.
Sir Francis Bacon.
John Williams, Archbishop of York.
Sir Thomas Coventry.
Sir John Finch.
Sir Edward Littleton.
Sir Richard Lane.
•60. Great Seal in Commission.
Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon.
Sir Orlando Bridgeman.
Anthony Ashley, Earl of Shaftesbury.
Heneage Finch, Lord Nottingham.
Francis North, Lord Guilford.
George, Lord Jeffreys.
93. Great Seal in Commission.
John, Lord Somers.
Sir Nathan Wright.
William, Lord Cowper.
Simon, Lord Harcourt.
Lord Cowper.
Thomas Parker, Earl of Macclesfield.
Sir Peter King:
Charles, Lord Talbot.
Philip Yorke, Lord Hardwicke.
Robert, I»rd Henley.
Charles, Lord Camden.
Charles Yorke, Lord Morden.
Henry Bat hurst. lx»rd Apsley.
Edward, Lord Thurlow.
Alexander, Lord Lough borough.
John Scott, Lord Eldon.
Thomas, Lord Erskine.
Lord Eldon.
John Singleton Copley, Lord Lynd-
hurst .
Henry, Lord Brougham.
Lord Lyndhurst.
Charles Pepys, Lord Cottenham.
Lord Lyndhurst.
Ijord Cottenham.
Thomas Wilde, Lord Truro.
Edward Sugden, Lord St. Leonards.
Robert Rolfe, Lord Cranworth.
Frederic Thesiger, Lord Chelmsford.
John, lyord Campbell.
Richard Bet hell, Lord Westbury.
Lord Cranworth.
Lord Chelmsford.
Appendix 583
1868. Hugh, Lord Cairns.
„ William Page Wood, Lord Hatherley.
1872. Sir Eoundell Palmer, Lord Selborne.
1874. Earl Cairns.
1880. Earl Selborne.
1885. Sir Hardinge Giffard, Lord Halsbury.
1886. Sir Farrer, Lord Herschell.
,, Lord Halsburv.
1892. Lord Herschell.
1895. Lord Halsbury.
SPEAKERS OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.
The following is a list of the Speakers of
1259. Peter de Montfort.
1332. Scrope.
1339. William Trussel.
1377. Sir Peter de la Mare.
., Sir Thomas Hungerford.1
1378. Sir James Pickering.
1379. Sir John Goldesburgh.
1381. Sir Eichard de Waldsgrave.
1382. Sir James Pickering.
1393. Sir John Bussey.
1399. Sir John Cheyne.
1400. John Doreward.
1401. Sir Arnold Savage.
1402. Sir Henry Bedford.
1404. Sir Arnold Savage.
1405. Sir William Esturmy.
1406. Sir John Tibetot (or Tiptoft).
1408. Thomas Chaucer.
1413. William Sturton.
„ John Doreward.
1414. Wautir (or Walter) Hungerford.
„ Thomas Chaucer.
1415. Richard Eedman.
„ Sir Walter Beauchamp.
1416. Koger Flower.
1420. Roger Hurst.
1421. Thomas Chaucer.
„ Richard Baynard.
1422. Roger Flower.
1423. John Russel.
1425. Sir Thomas Wanton.
„ Sir Richard Vernon.
1427. John Tyrrell.
1429. William Alyngton.
1431. John Tyrrell.
1432. John Russel.
1433. Roger Hurst.
1435. John Bowes.
1436. Sir John Tyrrell.
1438. William Burley.
1439. William Tresham.
1444. William Burley.
1 The first to receive
the House of Commons : —
1447.
1449.
1451.
1452.
1454.
1459.
1460.
1461.
1467.
1472.
1482.
1484.
1486.
1487.
1489.
1491.
1495.
1497.
1503.
1510.
1512.
1514.
1523.
1529.
1534.
1536.
1539.
1542.
1547.
1553.
1554.
»
1555.
1558.
1559.
1562.
1565.
the title of Speaker.
William Tresham.
John Say.
Sir John Popham.
William Tresham.
Sir William Oldhall.
Thomas Thorpe.
Sir Thomas Charlton.
Sir John Wenlock.
Thomas Tresham.
John Green.
Sir James Straiigeways.
John Say.
William Alyngton.
John Wood.
William Catesby.
Thomas Lovell.
John Mordaunt.
Sir Thomas Fitzwilliam.
Richard Empson.
Sir Reginald Bray.
Robert Drury.
Thomas Inglefield.
Edmund Dudley.
Thomas Inglefield.
Sir Robert Sheffield.
Thomas Nevill.
Sir Thomas More.
Thomas Audley.
Sir Humphry Wingfield.
Richard Rich.
Sir Nicholas Hare.
Thomas Moyle.
Sir John Baker.
Sir James Dyer.
John Pollard.
Robert Brooke.
Clement Heigham.
John Pollard.
William Cordell.
Sir Thomas Gargrave.
Thomas Wylliams.
Richard On slow.
584
Appendix
l.'.TI.
l.-)7l'.
!'••>!.
1585.
1 .Vl:>.
lllnl.
li. i:;.
Hil-l.
Itiin.
1653.
Ki.VJ.
lii.")ii.
lli.)!».
16GO.
1CG1.
l(i":{.
1G78.
1679.
Chri-topher \Vrny.
KoU-rt 1M1.
John I'lijiliiiin.
Sir John I'uckerin:;.
Si-njcant Snajfjf.
Kdwiird Coke.
Sergeant Yel\erton.
Sergeant CM Mike.
Sergeant Philips.
Sir Randolph Crewe.
Sir Tli ..... a< Crew.-.
Sir Hciifa^i- Finch.
Sir Joint Kini-h.
Sir Joint (ilamillo.
NN'illiani Lent hall.
Francis Krnis.
\Viliiani Li-ntltall.
Sir Thomas Widdrington.
Challoncr Chut. •.
Sir Lillclxirnc Ixnig.
Tlioma- r.ainfk'ld.
Sir llarliottlt* (irimston.
Sir Edward Turner.
Sir Job Charlton.
Kdward Seymour.
Sir Hobert Sawyer.
Kdward Scyinonr.
Sergeant Gregory.
1680. William Williams.
1681. Henry I'owle.
1685. Sir John Trevor.
1GHS). Henry I'owle.
Ki'JO. Sir John Trevor.
1695. I'anl Foley.
1698. Sir Thomas Littleton.
1701. ;:.,bert llarley.
17(1.). John Smith.
17U8. Sir li. Onslow.
1710. William Uromley.
1714. Sir Thomas Hanmer.
1715. Sneneer Coni|itM]i.
1728. Arthur On.-low.
17G1. Sir John CUM.
1770. Sir Fletcher Norton.
1780. Charles Wolfran Cornwall.
1789. Hon. William Wvndliam Uren-
ville.
„ Henr_y Addington.
1801. Sir John Mil lord.
1802. Charles Abbot.
1817. Charles .Manners Sutton.
1835. James Abertromhy.
1839. Charles Shaw Lef'evre.
1857. John Evelyn l)enison.
1872. Henry Bouverie Brand.
1884. Arthur W. Peel.
1895. William Court Gully.
INDEX
A Becket, Thomas, 423 (with ill.).
Abbot, Charles (Lord Colchester), 226,
323 (ill.), 350, 351, 352, 393,
394 (ill.).
Abbot, last to sit in Parliament, 300.
Abercromby, James (Lord Dunferm-
line), 324 (ill.), 353, 459.
Aberdeen, the Earl of, 47G, 494, 495.
Abingdon, the Earl of, 550.
Act of Dissolution, 46.
Adam, 415.
Addington, Henry (Lord Sidmouth). 58
(with ill.), 200, 201, 286, 350, 448.
Addison, Joseph, 96, 97 (with ill.).
Address to the Throne, the first, 298.
Adomar (Bishop- Elect of Winchester),
318.
Airy, O. B., 279, 280, 281.
Aislabie, 411.
Albemarle, the Duke of, 345 (ill.), 552.
Alexander of Scotland, King, 10, 138.
Alexandra, Queen, 314, COLOURED
PLATE facing p. 241.
Alfred, 9 (ill.).
Allington, Lord, 187.
Almack's, 126, 129 (ill.).
Althorp, Lord, 218 (with ill.).
Ancaster, the Duchess of, 90.
Anglesey, Lord, 90.
Anne Boleyn, 186.
Anne of Cleves, 186.
Anne, Princess, 565.
Anne,Queen,96(with ill.),f>9 (ill.),294.
Anne (Queen of Richard III.), 184.
Annesley, Sir John, 536, 537.
Anti-Corn Law League, 480.
Apsley. Sir Allen, 81.
Arch, Joseph, 507.
Argyle, the Duke of, 81.
Argyll, the Duke of, 493 (ill.).
Armada, fulsome speech as to, 23.
Armitstead, Mr., 144.
Arrest of five members, attempted, 39.
Arundel, the Earl of, 152, 176, 306.
" Asian Mystery," 498.
Asquith. Herbert Henry, 520, 528, 530
(with ill.).
Assassination of Perceval, 82.
"Atrocious crime of being a young
man," 110
Atterbury, Bishop, 442 (ill.), 444, 566.
Attire. See Dress.
Aubrey, 425.
Aylott'e, John, 386.
liabington, Thomas. Sff Macaulay.
Bacon, Sir Francis, 424-8, 427 (ill.).
Bacon, Sir Nicholas, 21 (ill.), 300, 302,
»)1, 424.
Baillie, Thomas, 449.
Balfour, A. J., 144, 420, 504, 512, 514,
515 (ill.), 516, 518, 520, 528, 532,
576, 577, 578.
Balliol, John, 560.
Balmerino, Lord, 156.
Bambridge, Thomas, COLOURED PLATE
facing p. 201, 411, 412, 414, 415
(with ill.).
Bamtield, Thomas, 343.
Bar of the House, 27 (ill.), 244 (ill.),
380, 395, 303 (ill.), 310 (ill.), 373
(ill.), 381 (ill.), 389 (ill.), 393 (ill.),
395 (ill.) • kneeling at the, 387.
" Barebones Parliament, the Praise-
God," 48.
Barre, Colonel, 119, 120, 121, 122 (ill.).
Barry, Lady, 170.
Barry, Mr. E. M., R.A., 286.
Barry, Sir Charles, 13.'), 169, 170 (with
ill.), 171 172, 229, 231-7, 250
(with ill.), 262, 269, 278, 279, 281,
284, 286, 296.
Barttelot, Sir Walter, 85.
" Batavian Graces," 498.
Bath, the Earl of. See Pulteney, W.
" Bats, Parliament of," 60.
Beaconsfield, the Earl of, 316, 467
(ill.), 468, 469, 471, 476, 477 (ill.),
478, 479 (with ill.), 481, 482, 483,
484, 486, 487, 489, 490, 492-9, 502,
503 (ill.), 504, 520, 524, 574, 577.
Beauchamp, William de, 176.
Bech, the Rev. J 262.
Bede, the Venerable, 1.
Bedford, the Duke of, 210.
"Begum Speech," the, 124.
Belet, Master Michael, 176.
Bell, Sir Robert, 335 (ill.).
Bellamy, John, 69 (ill.), 70, 72, 73, 74,
75, 80, 265 266.
Bellamy's, Dickens describes, 72.
Bellingham, John, 82, 84.
Bennet, Thomas, 441.
Benson, 384.
Bentinck, Lord George, 484 (ill-), 486,
489.
Berkshire, the Earl of, 550.
Bernard, Sir R., 120.
Bet in the House, 103.
Beverley, the Provost of, 297.
Bhownaggree, Sir M. M., 507 (ill.),
508, 510.
Bidmead, Reginald, 370.
Biddulpb, General Sir Michael, 314.
" Big Ben," 282, 283, 279-84 (ills).
Biggar, 58.
Bigod, 297.
Bigot, Roger, 138.
Bill of Pains and Penalties, 211.
Bill of Rights, 56.
Bill, Reform, 215, 217 (ill.), 218 (ill.),
21 9 (ill.), 497.
Bills, Private, 374.
Bills, Public, 374.
Bindon, the Viscountess, 300.
Blake, Admiral, 487 (ill.).
Bloody Assize, 434.
Blue Boar's Head Inn, 542 (ill.), 544.
585
Blunt, Segrave, 150.
Bohun, 297.
Bolingbroke, Viscount, 95, 96, COL-
OURED PLATE facinr/ p. 97.
Bond, Parliament de la, 60.
Bonner, Bishop, 336.
Boswell, 569.
Bothmar, Baron, 568.
Bothmar, Count, 550.
Bourke, Mr., 385.
Boyce,411.
Bradlaugh, 84, 510 (ill.), 511 (with ill.).
Bradshaw, 153.
Brand, Henry Bouverie (Viscount
Hampden), 354, 355, 358 (ill.),
376, 499 (ill.), 501.
Brereton, Richard, 147.
Bridgeman.Sir Orlando, 429, 432 (ill.).
Bright, 267.
Bright, John, 480, 481 (ill.), 494, 497,
504.
Bristol, the Earl of, 160, 428, 463.
Broadhurst," Henry, 506, 507.
Brodrick, the Hon. William St. John,
528 (ill.), 530, 532.
Brodrick, Sir Allan, 81.
Bromley, Sir Homy, 23.
Brougham, Lord, 6 (ill.), 93, 90, 128,
203 (ill.) 204 (ill.), 206, 207, 210-
12, 214, 218 (with ill.), 452 (ill.),
453, 454, 455, 460.
Bruce, Mr., 500.
Buckingham, the Duke of, 30, 52 (ill.),
426, 552, 565.
Buckingham, the Earl of, 149 (ill.),
151, 536.
Burdett, Sir Francis, 218, 392 (with
ill.), 393, 394, 395, 476.
Burgess, Dr., 550.
Burghley, Lord, 23 (ill.), COLOURED
PLATE foxing p. 41, 424.
Burgoyne, Genera), 146.
Burgundy, the Duke of, 86.
Burke, Edmund, 70, 103 (ill.), 104 (ill.),
113, 120, 121, 122, 123 (with ill.),
124, 126 (ill.), 127, 128, 146, 161,
162, 250, 348, 349, 447.
Burke, T. N., 554.
Burlington, Lord, 566.
Burnet, Bishop, 550 (with ill.).
Burns, John, 506 (ill.), 507.
Burt, Thomas, 504 (ill.), 505.
Burton, 221, 222.
Bury, Baron, 440.
Busby, Dr., 343.
Bussey, Sir James, 319, 320.
Bute, Lord, 311 (note), 570.
Butler, Captain T. D., 576 (ill.).
Butler, Sir Francis, 387.
Butler, Sir Thomas, 552.
Byron (William), Lord, 158.
Cairns, Earl, 455, 457 (ill.).
Call of the House, 15.
74
586
Index
Cwnden. Ixtril, 440, 447 (///.).
C*mpMI, I/ml, •-'-'•.. 455 (with ill.),
4M (,11.).
CanipMI-llaiiiiernmi, Sir Henry,4s:o,
618, 528,531 (i'H.).
"Candid Friend," tin-, 481.
C'.iniiinv', I ;»'!-••. I'KOM I-I-IH-K, 132,
20o(with ill.), 2»>l. 2d2 (with iV/.),
204, sal (I//.), 200, 207, 208, 210,
211, 212, 214, 452, 482 (with ill.),
480, 5211.
Cant< rlmry, Viscount. Sft Sutton.
Canute, 4.
Carnarvon, the Karl of, 495 (ill.), 497.
Carnwath, the Enrl of, 155.
Carolina, IJiiecii, 190. 193, 194 (ill.),
200, 211, 212 (with HI.), 213 (ill.),
2U> (ill.), 452.
C.irtoret, Ix>rd, 570.
Carysfort, Ixml, 309.
( 'astlemainc, Lady. 428.
Castlereagh, I/>fd, 202, 204, 206
(with ill.).
Caterton, Thomas. Src Katrington.
Catesby, Robert, 265 (ill.), 266.
Catesby, William, 331.
Cathcart, Ixird, 81.
(Catholic Emancipation, 200, 463, 510.
C«ve, Edward, 222 (with ill.), 223.
Cavendish, Lord, 54,62.
(Cavendish, Ix>rd Frederick, 554.
Cavendish, Lord John, 70, 146.
Caxton, \\ illiam, 554.
( Jecil, Richard, 556.
(Jecjl, Sir William, 302.
Cecil, William. *><• Burghlcy, Lord.
Central Hall, the, 248 (with ill.).
ChamWlain, Austen, 521.
( 'hamWlain, Joseph, 104 (imtr), 420,
504,512,518,519 ((V/.), 520,521,522.
'' Chani|iagne Siwech," the, 113.
Cliampion, the King's, 2(t7/.), 180, 181,
182 (ill.), 187 (ill.), 192, 195 (ill.).
Chancellors, I-ord, 10, 298, 316, 324,
361, 302, 422-58, 581-3. See also :
A Bcrket, Thomas.
Bacon, Sir Francis.
Bacon, Sir Nicholas.
Bridgcman, Sir Orlando.
Brougham, Ix>rd.
Burgh ley, Ix>rd.
Cairns, Ix>rd.
Cnmdt-n, I/ird.
OmpbeD, Lord.
Chelmsford. Lord.
Clarendon, th • Marl of.
Cottenlmin, Lord.
Ccivi-ntry. Sir Thomas.
Cow per. Ixird.
Cram-, Sir 1 tic-hard.
Cranwurlli. l/>rd.
DC Grey, Walter.
Eldon, I .onl.
Erskine, I>ord.
Fjlicll, Hi-lieage.
Finch, Sir John.
Cardiii'r, Stephen,
(loodricli, Tlniinas.
Hal.sliiir.v, Ixird.
Harcourt, l<ord.
llurdwickc, lx>rJ.
Ilatherley, lx»rd.
1 hit inn, Sir Christopher.
Heath, Nicholas.
Henley, I/ml.
Jeffreys, I/>rd.
Kin^'. Sir I'rtcr.
Littleton, Sir Edw.ird.
Lyndhurst, lx>rd.
More. Sir Thomas.
North, Francis.
I'arker, Thomas.
I'ui-keriii^. Sir John.
Itic-hard, AM«it of Kv<-.liam.
Roger of Salisbury.
St. Leonards, Ijord.
Sell.orne, Earl.
Sliafteslmry, the Enrl of.
Simon of Sudbury.
Somers, Lord.
Tallxjt, Ix>rd.
Thurlow, Ix>rd.
Truro, Ix>rd.
Westbury, Lord.
William of Wykeham.
Williams, John.
Wolsey, Cardinal.
Wright, Sir Nathan.
Chancery, the Court of, COLOURKD
Pmnfachyp, 137.
Chancy, Henry J.. 291.
( ' ! M 1 1 1 . i i 1 1 of the House, the, 403.
tJhapter House, the, 16, 19 (M.),
553-7 (ills.), 558, 560, 562, 563.
Charles I., 3 (ill.), 31 (('//.), 33 (///.),
30-44, 69, l.r>2, 153 (with ill.), 154
(ill.), 155 (ill.), 180 (ill.), 251, 263,
287, 288 (ill.), 306, 323, 324, 340,
342, 401, 402, 404, 409, 428,545,
564, 566.
Charles II., 32 (ill.), 51-6, 67, 181
(ill.), 186, 302 (ill.), 306, 307, 342,
343, 344, 428, 429, 430, 432, 433,
565, 566, 568.
Charles, the Elector Palatine, 39.
Charles, Prince, 305.
Charlton, Sir Job, 307.
Chatham. See Pitt
Chaucer, Geoffrey, 12 (ill.),
Chaucer, Thomas, 330.
Cha worth, Willinm, 158.
Clu'lmsford, Jxml, 454 (ill.), 455.
( 'li .-ster, the Earl of, 174.
Child King (Henry VI.) opens Parlia-
ment, 301.
( 'liolmondeley, the Marquis of, 314.
( 'hurch, A. H., 238.
( 'liurchill, General, 105.
Churchill, Lord Randolph, 252 (ill.),
2.J4, 270. 504, 512 (with ill.), 513.
Chute, Challoner, 343.
( 'ity, five members protected in, 41.
City freedom presented to Sir Arthur
Onslow, 348.
City of London, representation, 141 ;
petitions, 371.
Civil War, the, !•>.
•'Clandestine Outlawries," :«M.
Clarendon, the Enrl of, 428, •):.'!•, 43O
(('//.). 431 (///.), CULOUKKI) 1'I.ATK
1'n-imi /'. \:',:',.
Clarke, Mrs., 3Wi (,//.), 3W) (///.) 391.
< 'larke, Sir Edward. 2i-s (///.), 2:50.
Clayton, Sir 1!., IL'II. 311.
Clifford, Ix>rd, 430, 432.
Clinton, Lord, 300.
Clock Tower, the, 27o, 271 (ill.), ^7-.',
275-8 l(\vith/7/5.).
Cloisters, the, 287 (»7/.), :-(!(> (///.).
Closure, :!7(i.
Coalition Ministry, the, I!M.
CoblH-tt, MKi.
Cobden, Richard, 480 (with iff.), is:',.
I8&
Cobham, Ijuly. 90.
Cochrane, Ix)rd, 394, 418 (with i7/.).
Cockburn, ]x>nl, 471.
Cockpit, the, 46, 308, 309, 564, :,>;:,,
566, 567.
Coke, Sir Edward, 26, 29 (ill.), 32,
339 (with .//.).
Colchester, Ix>rd, 309, 350, 393. See
(Uio Abbot, Charles.
Cole, 5:.ii.
Commissions, Royal, 419.
( 'oininittee of Supply described, 366.
Committee of Ways and Means de-
scribed, 368.
Committee Rooms, 406 (ill.).
Committees, COLOURED PLATE fnrimj
p. 201, 366, 376,406-id.
Commons, the House of, in sixteenth
century, 8, 17-24 ; in early history,
9-16 ; in seventeenth century,
25-56; in eighteenth century,
FRONTISPIECE, 95-132; in nine-
teenth century, 200-20, 459-534 ;
social aspects of, 67-76 ; the Lobby,
77-85 ; ladies at the House. 87-94 ;
destruction of, 164-72; descrip-
tion of, 231-6, 251-9.
Illustrations of : 37, 40, 42, 4.">, 47,
67, 70, 71, 76, 77, 79, 81, 83, 84,
85, 90, 92, 93, 101, 102, 108. I 20,
142, 152, 166, 167, 207, 217, ^J7.
231, 2.'»l-(i3, 272, 287, 360, 30;.,
367, 370, 3S4, 505.
Commonwealth, the, 45-50.
Compton, Bishop, 565.
Comptpn, Spencer, 350 (note). Set
Wilmington. Earl of.
Convention Parliament, the, 51; the
Second, 56.
Con way, General, 540.
Convers, John, 552.
Cooke, William, 382, 384.
Cooper, Anthony Ashley 429, 4:jo,
432, 433, 434 (with ill.).
Cooper, Mr., 165.
Copley, John Singleton. See Lynd-
hurst, Lord.
Copyright Bill, 473.
Cornwall, Charles W., 348 (ill.), 350.
Coronations, 5 (ill.), 67, 173-99 (with
ills.).
Cottenham, Lord, 455.
Cottinghain, Mr., 442.
Cottington, Mrs., 385.
Cotton, Sir Robert, 29.
Count out descril>ed, 370.
Courayer, Abbi?, ;.<;!).
Court of Claims, the, 188 (///.).
Court of Exchequer, the, 7, 8.
Couit of l!ei|iiests, the old, 8.
Coventry, Sir John, 52, 53 (///.), 54
(with ///.).
Coventry, Sir Thomas, 42(5 (ill.), 428.
Cowper, ">."><;.
Cow per, Hail, :!I7, 413, 111.
,411.
Index
587
Cranborne, Lord. See Salisbury,
the Marquis of.
Crane, Sir Richard, 428.
Cranworth, Lord, 455.
Crew, Sir Thomas, 29.
Crimean war debates, 493.
" Crisis, the," Addison's pamphlet, 98.
Cromartie, Lord, 156.
Cromwell, Oliver, 38, 42, 45, 46 (with
ill.), 47 (with ill.), 48, 49, 50, 64,
153, 263, 288, 342, 344 (ill.), 404
(ill.), 564, 568.
Cromwell, Richard, 49, 50, 342, 441.
Crooke, Sergeant, 23, 320, 322.
Crosby, Lord Mayor, 119, 225,
Crowle, Mr., 387.
Crypt Chapel, the, 7 (ill.), 285 (with
ill.), 286, 287.
Crypt Chapel used for Speaker's
dinners, 58.
Cust, Sir John, 34a
Dacre, Lord, 152.
Dagger Speech, Burke's, 121.
Dance, 415.
David of Scotland, King, 140.
Debates, reporting of, 221.
De Brewes, Mary, 149.
De Brewes, William, 149, 150.
D'Ewes, Sir Symonds, 221, 298, 302,
304, 305, 306.
De Grey (Lord Chief Justice), 349.
De Grey, Walter, 423.
De Hexham, Roger, 149.
De la Mare, Sir Peter, 320.
De Montfort, Peter, 318.
De Segrave, Sir John, 150.
Debt, member imprisoned for, 25.
Denison, E. B., 280, 281, 284.
Denison, John Evelyn (Viscount
Ossington), 353, 354, 355 (ill.),
356 (ill.).
Dent, Mr., 279, 280.
Deputy Speaker appointed, 326.
Derby, the Earl of, 178. See also
Stanley, Lord.
Derwentwater, the Earl of, 155,
Devereux, Robert. See Essex, Earl of.
Devonshire, the Duchess of, 541 (with
ill.).
Devonshire, the Duke of, 314, 527,
528, 529 (ill.).
Dickens, Charles, 73 (ill.), 230.
Digby, John, 38.
Digby, Sir Everard, 267, 269.
Digges, Sir Dudley, 29, 30.
Dilke, Sir Charles, 500, 501.
Dining at the House, 67.
Dining-Room, House of Commons,
the, 71 (ill.).
Dining-Room, House of Lords, 72 (ill.).
Dinners, Speaker's, 57 ; Parliamentary
full-dress, 309 ; whitebait, 316.
Disestablishment, 499.
Disraeli, Benjamin. See Beaconsfield.
Division, 85, 94, 379.
Divisions, great, 105, 217, 487.
Dodington, George Bubb (Lord Mel-
combe), 105 (with ill.), 566.
Dormer, 441, 443.
Dorrington, Mr., 167.
Dorset, the Duke of, 550.
Dorset, Lord, 565.
Downing, Sir George, 568.
Downing Street, 568-78 (with COL-
OURED PLATE),
Dream related in the House, 31.
Dress of members, 58-66.
Drinking customs, 81.
Dudley, Edward, 331, 332.
Dudley, Lord, 130.
Dudley, Lord Robert, 302, 304.
Duels, 106, 202.
Duncannon, 216.
Dunfermline, Lord. See Abercromby,
James.
Dunning. Mr., 120.
Dutton, Sir Ralph, 381
Dyce, Mr., R.A., 238.
Dymmok, Henry, 181.
Dymmok, Rev. John, 181.
Dymmok, Sir John, 180.
Earle, Mr., 414.
Earle, Sir Walter, 39.
Edgeworth, Miss, 92.
Edward the Black Prince, 138 (with
ill.), 141.
Edward the Confessor, 4, 8, 141, 276,
548.
Edward I., 7, 10 (with ill.), 16, 60,
138, 150, 176, 181, 297, 299 (ill.),
319, 381.
Edward II., 7, 10, 60.
Edward III., 7, 12, 14, 134, 140 (ill.),
141, 178, 288, 298, 318, 320.
Edward VI., 16, 18, 20 (ill.), 177 (ill.),
263, 264, 300 (ill.), 336, 397, 423.
Edward VII., 144, 145, COLOURED
PLATE facing p. 241. 244, 257,
309 (ill.), 314, 315 (ill.), 316 (ill.),
317 (ill.).
Edwin, Lady Charlotte, 90.
Eldon, Lord, 208, 210 (ill.), 448, 449
(with ill.).
Eleanor, Queen, 174.
Elector Palatine, Charles, 39.
Eljot, Sir John, 30, 32, 34, 35.
Elizabeth, Queen, 8, 12, 15, 18, 20, 21,
22 (with ill.), 23, 24, COLOURED
PLATE facing p. 24, 63, 179 (ill.),
263, 290, 291, 296, 298, 300, 302,
304, 305, 306, 320, 322, 338, 339,
397, 398, 404, 408, 424, 469 (ill.),
564.
Ellenborough, Lord, 246.
Ellis, Mr., 204.
Elsinge, Henry, 556.
Elwes, John, 65 (with ill.), 66.
Empson and Dudley, 331 ; Walpole
compared with, 101.
Empson, Sir Richard, 331, 332.
Erskine, H. D., 252 (ill.).
Erskine, Lord, FRONTISPIECE, 130,
212 (with ill.), 448, 449, 450 (with
ill.), 452.
Essex, the Earl of, 152.
Eversley, Viscount. See Lefevre.
Excise Bill, famous debates on, 101.
Exeter, the Countess of, 147.
Fairfax, Lady, 153.
Falconer, Sir E., 156.
Falmouth, Lord, 550.
Farnborough, Lord, 262 (ill.), 264.
Fawkes, Guido, 152, 262, 265 (ill.),
266-9,538..
Fazakerly, 446.
Fearne, 381.
Ferrers 382
Ferrers, the'Eaii of, 158, 161 (ill.).
" Finality John," 464.
Finch, Lord, 98, 428 (with ill.).
Finch, Sir Heneage (Lord Notting-
ham), 323, 432, 434 (with ill.).
Finch, Sir John, 34, 35, 428.
Fire, destruction of the Houses of
Parliament by, 165.
Fisher, John (Bishop of Rochester),
150 (ill.), 151, 152.
Fitzharris, Ann, 87 (with ill.), 88.
Fitzpatrick, Richard, 146.
Fitzroy, Colonel, 324, 325.
Five members, attempted arrest of, 39 ;
return to Westminster, 42.
Fleet Prison, the, COLOURED PLATE
facinri p. 201, 411.
Fleetwood, Sir Miles, 401.
" Fly in amber," 202.
Foley, Patrick, 344.
Foley, Paul, 345.
Foreign Office, the, 567 (ill.), 571 (ill.),
573 (with ill.), 576.
Forester, Sir Adam, 329.
Forster, W. E., 504, 507 (ill.).
Fortescue, Sir John, 365.
Fowler, Sir Henry H., 524 (ill.) 528,
530.
Fox, Charles James, FRONTISPIECE,
70, 80 (ill.), 82, 116, 120, COL-
OURED' PLATE facing p. 121, 122,
123, 124, 126, 127 (with ill.), 128,
130, 132 (ill.), 146, 161, 200, 201,
218, 225, 250, 308, 349, 450, 541,
542.
Fox, Henry, 108 (ill.), Ill, 124, 126, 127.
Francis, Sir Philip, 132.
Franking system, 374.
Franklin, Benjamin, 566 (ill.), 567.
Fraser, Simon. See Lovat, Lord.
Fraser, Sir William, 252.
Free Parliament, Monk declares for
a, 50.
Freedom of speech, right of, affirmed,
26.
Freeman- Mitford, Sir John, 350.
Frescoes, Paintings, and Tapestries.
Illustrations : 9, 40, 41, 43, 44, 47,
50, 115, 151, 238, 240, 245, 246,
251, 293, 332, 407, 408.
Frevilles, the de, 181.
Fuller, Robert, 552.
Gambling customs, 126.
Gardiner, Stephen (Bishop of Win-
chester), 423, 424 (ill.).
Gascoigne, General, 82.
Gascoigne, Sir William, 148, 119.
Gaveston, Piers, 138, 560.
"Gentle Shepherd," 112.
Gentleman's Magazine, 222
George I., 568.
George II., 185 (ill.), 190, 279, 307,
568.
George III., 5 .(ill.), 135, 187 (ill.),
192, 304 (ill.), 305 (ill.), 447, 448.
George IV., 136, 181, 189 (ill.), 190
(ill.), 191 (ill.), 194, 195, 198, 199,
307 (ill.), 449, 510.
Gibbon, Edward, 132, 569.
Gibson, J., R.A., 242.
Giles, Sir Edward, 401.
588
Index
i.l.i.|>|..iif, Il.rU-rt, 838.
GUI-tone, \V. E., 1, HI, 148, 143
(«//.X 111, 848 (with ilt.\ I1'.1.
•_'•••:. 310, .V.I, 38H, 372. 4«0, 474
(»//.X 4U3, 404, 4»5, 496 (with .//.).
400, .VN), SOI, A04, 512, 913, 52O,
6S3 (I//.X 924, CoUlt RKI> I'l.ATK
/!«>/ i.. 527. 527 (i//.X 52*. 574 8.
Gl.uiMllr. Mr Ki.iu.i>, :u:\. 3-Ji. 34O.
CLinvillf. Sir John, 20, 29 (i'//.X 330,
34U.
( Mom-niter, the Duke of, 80, 87, 331.
Glomt'su-r. the Karl of, 17a
Uodfnv, Mr, 442.
Godolpiiin, l."nl, 307.
Gondenmr, the C'ount of, 306.
( roodrirh, Thomas ( I !»li. >p of Ely), 423.
Goodwin, Kir Francis, 303.
( iordon, Colonel, MO.
i;..r.|..n. Dr., 224.
Gordon, the Duchess of, 88 (ill.), 88.
Gordon, Jjortl George, 539, 540.
Gorst, Sir .loh 1 1. 512.
Cossett, Sir Ralph A., 510 (ill.).
Goulburne, Henry, 3VJ, 3(il (note).
Graf ton, the Duke of, 349, 446.
(inihain, Sir James, 495.
( Irahnin, Sir John, 459.
Grand Committees, 410, 420.
( irand Kcmonstrance, the, 38, 39, 60.
Grant, General, 128.
Grant I v, Itnron. See Norton.
Granville, Karl, 248, 490 (ill.).
(inittun, 250.
Great Seal drop|>cd in the Thames,
436 ; stolen, 447.
Great Seal of the Commonwealth,
the, 45 (i//.).
Gregory, Sergeant, 324.
Grenville, Ixird, 350, 351 (i//.),
352 (ill.), 448.
Crenville, Ilichard (Karl Temple),
111 (ill.), 112,113,200,201.
(•reville, Mr., 38(i.
Grey, 1C1.
Grey, An-liliishop Walter, 297.
Grey, Earl. 214 (with ill.), 452, 453,
400, 403 (ill.).
Grey, \jpnl, 43.
i irey, Sir Edward, 528.
Grille, tlie ladies, 93 (ill.).
Grini.ston, Sir Harlxdtle, 320 (///.).
Qrimthorpe. Lord, 2HO, 281, 2si.
Grocers' Hall, the, 409.
Guilford, I/>rd. Srr North, FraiiL-is.
Qaitford. 1-jirl of. iVe North, Ix>rd.
Gui.scard, 5W.
Gully, Kdward, (\->(ill.).
Gtillv, Mi^', <;.'('//.).
(Jully, Mrs.. f;i (,//.).
Gully. \Villnni Court, 01 (///.),
CoLofKKlt I'I.ATK faeiny ji. 353,
300, 301 (nvtr).
Giiii|Kiwdi-r Plot, tin-, J-,, 152, 206-9,
u"il-7«i(///x.). KXI.
Gtinn-y. Sir Gn| Lsu-nrthy, 270.
Gut line, William. •>•>*.
Hiickct. Mr.. 401.
Male, Mr.. :is:,.
Ilali-uill, Sir William, 264.
Halifax, tli<- Karl of, :,.-,( i.
Halifax, Ixird. 439.
Hall, Sir Benjamin, 281.
Hiilsliury, Ix>rd, 242, 458 (with ///.).
Hamilton, l-i.lv An-hil«»ld, 90.
Hamilton, William Gerard, 111, 112
(with ill.).
HUM.. n. I. Sir Charles Frederick,
521 (ill.).
I l.iiii|i,|.-n. John, 31, 36, 39 (with ///.),
40 (HI.), ft), 2.M).
llam|xlen, Viscount. See Brand,
Henry llouverie.
Hanmer, Sir John, 54, 02.
I l.inmrr. Sir 'riuniias, 97.
Hansitrd, l.nki-, 23O.
Harcourt, Ixird. 441 (ill.), 443.
Harcourt, Sir William Vernon, 144,
420, 504, 522 («//.), 524, 525 (M.),
578.
Hardinge, Mr.. 264.
Hardinge, Nicholas, 103.
Hardinge, Sir Henry. 218, !<;<;.
Hardwicke, the Earl of, 445 (with ill.),
440.
1 lardy, Gathorne, 504.
Hare, Sir Nicholas, 335, 336.
Harley, 566.
Harley, Robert. See Oxford, Earl of.
Harley, Sir Edward, 307, 402, 564
(note).
Harrington, James, 542, 556.
Harrison, Major-General, 46.
Hastings, \\arren, 122, 130. 100,
103 (ill.), COLOURED PLATE
facing l>. 393, 420.
Hat herley, Karoo, 423, 455, 500(('«.), 554
Hats in the House, 59-66, 368 (i//.).,
459.
Hatton, Sir Christopher, 22.
Hayinan, Sir Peter, 29.
Hazell, Walter, 507.
Hazlerig, 39, 40 (ill.).
" Healing Parliainent," the, 320.
Heath, Nicholas, 423, -l^:>.
Heighnin, Clement, 336.
Heigham, Sir Ualph, -2~:>.
Henry I., 136, 173, 181.
Henry II., 6, 134.
Henry III., 6, 9, 11 (ill.), 134, 136, 137,
138, 139 (ill.), 141, 173, 174, 182,
297, 318.
Henry IV., 178 (ill.), 181, 184, 320, 329.
Henry V., 146, 148, 149, 183, 297 (ill.),
298.
Henry VI., 60, 175 (ill.), 298, 301 (ill.),
330, 374.
Henry VI L, 222, 246, 291, 298 (ill.),
330, 331,332, 545,552.
Henry VIII., 8, 12, 14, 02, 151 (with
///.), 1H1, 303 (ill.), 308, 320, 332,
333 (///.), 334, 33'), 336, 382, l:il,
.V,2. 502, 564.
Henry (son of Henry II.), 174.
Henley, Lord, 440 (with ill.).
Henley, Sir lioWt, 423.
Henrietta Maria, Queen, 48 (ill.)
Herbert, Auberon, 501.
Herbert, J. I!., I!. A., 248.
Herbert, Sidney, 49O (///.). .|!»5.
Herb-women, 184 (ill), 190, 194 (ill.).
Hereford, the Duke of, 15 (///.).
Hereford, the Earl of, 176.
Herries, -2\(i.
H-rsclu-ll, b>rd, 455. 458 (with ///.).
Hervey, Augustus, 122.
Hervey, I^ord, 90.
He/rlrii.'. Sir William, 150.
Hicks Uearh, Sir Mi.-hael, 420, 524,
•'•2C,. :.27, .'.78.
Eitcham, Sir liobert, 1 I.
Hogarth's |Kirtrait of I/ord Ix)vat, 156.
Holder, John, 412.
Holland, L..l>. li'l.
Holland. LonL .SVr Fox, Henry.
Hollar, Welieeslaiis. 55(i.
Hollcji, 34, IVi, 3!(, l( I (/'//.).
Ho(xl, Admiral l/ird, 541.
Hood, Lor<l, l!»3. I:M.
Hope, Beresford, 498.
Horsley, .1. ('.. A. I,1. A., 247.
Host, the Speaker a.«, 57.
Hotspur, 329.
" Hotspur of Debate," the, 504.
HoiiMon, Sir James, 344.
Houghton, l.on I. 456.
House of Commons. ,SVr Commons.
Houses, M-parat ion of, 16.
Howard, '1 homas. 6Ve Norfolk, the
Duke..!'.
Howard, William, :«)2.
Ho well, George, 507.
Hughes, Mr, 414.
Hume, Josepli. L'(;J.
Hume, Mr., 169, 170.
HUDgerfora, Sir Thomas, 318.
Huntington, Lady, 90.
Hyde, Edward (Earl of Clarendon),
428, 429, COLOURED PLATE f«
p. 433.
Iddesleigh, the Earl of (Sir Stafford
Norchcote), 248, 510 (///.). 575, 578.
" Illegal Bar," the, 70 (ill.).
Impeachment of Warren Hastings,
100 ; of Lord Melville, 351 ; of
Lord Bacon, 425 ; of I/>rd Claren-
don, 428 ; of Ix>rd Macclesfield,
441.
India, representative of, 507.
Inglerield, Sir Thomas, 320.
Ingoldsby, Colonel, 46.
" Instrument, the," 48.
Ireland, Dean, 168, 169 (ill.).
James I., 25 (with ill.), 26 9, 263, 200,
305, 300, 339, 3G5, 400, 409, 424,
564.
James II., 32 (ill.), 56, 05, 154, 188,
190, 402, 434, 435 (///.), 430, 438
(///.), IK).
Jameson Kaid, the, 420, 421 (ill.).
Jebb, Dr., 146.
Jeffreys, Ix>rd, 434, 436 (with ill.),
137 (///.), 438.
Jenkins, David, 382 (ill.), 386, 387.
Jephson, Sir J., 401.
Jersey, I^ady, 90.
" Jerusalem Chamber," the, 126.
, Jewel Tower, the, 288-93 (with ills.).
John, King of France. 13S. 1 in.
Johnson, Dr., 221, 223 (with .-//.), -2-2\.
. I. ilmstone, Governor, 121.
Jones, Gale, 392.
Journalists at the House, 85, 221-30.
Journals mutilated by James I., 27.
Journals of the House of Commons,
803.
Katherine of Arragon, 184.
Katharine, Queen, 184.
Index
589
Katrington, Thomas, 536, 537.
Ken, Bishop, 154.
Kenealy, Dr., 375.
Kenmure, Viscount, 155.
Kent, 566.
Kenyon, Roger, 68.
Keyes, 269.
Kidd, Captain, 439.
Kilmarnock, Lord, 156, 158 (ill).
Kimberley, the Earl of, 144.
King's Champion, 2, 180.
King, Sir Peter, 443 (ill), 444, 445.
King, Thomas, 14.
Kingston, Duchess of, 158, 162 (ill.).
Kitchen Department, origin of, 66.
Kneeling at the Bar, 387.
Knolles, Sir Francis, 398.
Knolls, Sir William, 322.
Knowles, Sir Francis, 304.
Knyghtley, Sir R., 401.
Knyvett, Sir Thomas, 268.
Ijabouchere, Mr., 292.
" Labour " members, 504, 506-8.
Ladies at the House, 10, 12, 86-94
(with ills), 246, 257.
Laiton, Dr., 404.
Lake, Bishop, 154.
Lake, Mary, 147.
Lake, Sir Thomas, 147.
Lambert, Major-General, 50.
Lancaster, the Duke of, 182, 537.
Lane, Mrs., 145.
Lansdowne, Lord, 93.
Latimer, 20 (ill.).
I^aud, Archbishop, 538, 539 (ill).
Lawrence, Dr., 161.
Leeds, the Duke of, 81.
Lefevre, Charles Shaw (Viscount
Eversley), 353, 354 (ill), 361
(note), 554.
Leicester, the Earl of, 176, 304.
Leigh, Thomas, 187.
Leinster, the Duke of, 212.
Lenthall, William, 38, 39 (with ill),
40, 42, 43, 46, 50, 62, 340 (with
ill), 341 (ill).
Lesser Hall, the, 8.
Library, the, 260-64 (ills).
Lilburne, John, 545.
Little Parliament, the, 48.
Littleton, Edward, 428, 429 (ill).
Littleton, Sir Thomas, 324, 345, 346.
Littlington, Abbot, 557.
Liverpool, the Earl of, 204, 208, 211,
212, 482,486.
Llewellyn, Prince of Wales, 10, 138.
Lloyd, Bishop, 154.
Lobby, the, 77-85. Illustrations : 76,
77, 79, 81, 83, 84, 85, 259, 374, 377.
Locke, 445, 544.
Londonderry, the Marquis of, 314.
See also Castlereagh, Lord.
Long Parliament, the, 36, 45, 50, 51.
Long, Sir Lilleborne, 343.
Lord Chancellors. See Chancellors.
Lord Mayor committed to Tower,
119.
Lord Protector, Cromwell installed
as, 48.
Lords, the House of, early history
of, 9-16 ; in the sixteenth century,
8, 10, 20, 22 ; in the seventeenth
century, 30-45, 49, 51 ; in the
eighteenth century, 95-132 ; in
the nineteenth century, 200-20,
459-534 ; social aspects, 67-76 ;
the Lobby, 77-85 ; ladies at, 86,
90, 91 (ill) ; the press, 228,
229 ; detailed description of,
237-50.
Illustrations: 31, 35, 72, 107, 117,
118, 152, 166, 167, 207, 213, 219,
237-50, 274, 303, 304, 306, 308-
13, 315, 317, 497, 509, 534.
Lottery Committee, the, 416, 418.
See also p. 417 (ill).
Lovat, Lord, 6 (ill), 156, 158, 159
(ill), 160 (ill), COLOURED PLATE
facing p. 161.
Lovell, Lord, 331.
Lovell, Thomas, 330, 331.
Lowe, Robert. See Sherbrooke.
Lowndes, William, 566.
Lucy, H. W., 230 (ill).
Luttrell, Colonel, 225.
Lyndhurst, Lord, 246, 451 (ill), 452,
453, 462, 463, 466 (with ill).
Lyndwoode, Bishop, 286.
Lyttelton, George, 1st Baron, 111.
Lyttleton, Sir Thomas. See Littleton.
Macaulay, Lord, 460, 470 (ill), 471
(with ill), 472, 473, 474, 475, 476.
McCarthy, Justin, 226 (ill.), 230.
Macclesfieid, the Earl of. See Parker.
McDonnell, Sir Schoinberg, 570 (ill),
576.
Mace, the House of Commons,
Mackphendris, Captain John, 412.
Maclise, D., B.A., 240, 247.
Maclure, Sir John, 532 (ill).
Magna Charta, Henry III. renewing
the, 11 (ill)
Mahon, Lord, 473.
Maiden speeches : Addison's, 97 ;
Steele's, 97 ; Lord Finch's, 98 ;
Pitt's (the elder), 109 ; Colonel
Barre's, 119 ; Sheridan's, 123 ;
Pitt's (the younger), 124 ; Dis-
raeli's, 470.
Majocchi, Theodore, 212.
Mallory 29.
Malmesbury, Lord, 130.
Malory, Peter, 150.
Manners, Lord John, 280.
Mansfield, Dr., 161.
Mansfield, Lord, 449.
Marlbprough, Duke of, 156, 513 (ill).
Mannion, Philip, 181.
Marmion, Roger, 181.
Marshall, Mr., 550.
Marshalsea Prison inquiry, 414,
Marten, Henry, 2W7, 288, 387.
Marvell, Andrew, 52 (ill).
Marvell and payment of members, 14.
Mary, Queen, 14, 18, 330, 397, 408,
423.
Mary Queen of Scots, 21, 338, 398
(with ill).
Mary, Queen (of William III.), 55
(ill), 324.
Mas?, Parliament attends, 393.
Match Tax, 500.
Mawbey, tiir Joseph, 3"0.
May, Sir T. Erskine, £62 (ill), 231,
554.
Maynooth Grant, 474.
Mazzini's letters, 481.
Melbourne, Lord, 168, 460, 462 (with
ill), 463, 464, 467.
Melcombe, Lord. See Dodington.
Melville, Lord, 162, 349 (ill), 351, 352.
Members, expulsion of, by Cromwell,
46.
Members fined for late attendance, 14.
Mildmay, Sir H., 15.
Mills, 385.
" Ministry of all the Talents," 201.
Monk, General, 50 (with ill), 342,
552, 565.
Monmouth, the Duke of, 54, 56.
Montagu, the Duke of, 550.
Montague, Edward, 334.
Montague, Viscount, 187.
Monteagle, Lord, 268,
Montrose, the Duke of, 70, 492 (ill).
More, Sir Thomas, 17 (with ill.), 150
(ill), 151, 332, 334, 335, 423.
Moreton, Mr., 112.
Morley, John, 522 (ill), 524, 526.
Morrice, Mr., 23.
Mowbray, Sir John, 85.
Murray, Mr., 387, 388.
Nairn, Lord, 155.
Naoroji, Dadabhai, 508.
Nelson, Lord, 569 (ill), 572.
'• Nether House," 17.
Nethersole, Sir James, 31.
Nevill, Henry, 542.
Newbolt, 538.
Newcastle, the Duke of, 106, 108 (til),
109 (ill). 111, 116, 118, 121 (ill).
New Palace Yard described, 536.
New Palace Yard, Edward I. delivers
speech in, 298.
Nithisdale, 155.
Noel], Dean (of St. Paul's), 304.
Norfolk, the Duke of, 15 (ill), 21, 142,
144, 151, 152, 300, 302, 314, 562.
Norfolk, the Earl of, 138.
North Briton, the, 118.
North, Francis (Lord Guilford), 434
(with ill).
North, Lord, 65, 114, 116, 118, 119
(ill), 120, 127, 146, 218, 349, 570.
Northampton, the Marquis of, 302.
Northcote, Sir Stafford. See Iddes-
leigb, the Earl of.
Northington, the Earl of. See Hen-
ley, Lord.
Northumberland, the Duke of, 146.
Northumberland, the Earl of, 329.
Norton, D., 401.
Norton, Sir Fletcher, 348, 349, 350.
Nottingham, the Earl of, 114 (note),
386, 434 (ill).
Nowell, Dr. [1553], 408, 410 (ill).
Nowell, Dr. [1772], 402.
Noy, 26.
Nuts eaten in the House, 68.
Gates, Titus, 386 (ill), 387 (ill), 390,
538.
Oath, the Parliamentary, 364 (ill),
510, 511.
O'Brien, Smith, 418, 419 (with ills).
O'Connell, Daniel, 225 (///.), 227, 228,
465, 467, 468 (with ill), 469, 470,
471, 476, 478, 510.
Octagonal Hall, the, 24&
590
Index
< telothorpe.Oencnd, 410, 112, 410(.7/.).
< H.l Pnlaer Yard, 530.
" ( >l«l TW'em," 4»5.
ol.lli.ill. Willuun, 330.
< >l 1-worth. Mr., 401.
Oliver, Alderman. 110, --''•.
Olmiii-, .li.lni, .'•.'• 2.
On-low, Sir Arthur, 101 (ill.), 125
(•7/.X 130 (ill.). 321 (ill.), 324, 32.'.,
348, 3!»T, 348, 353. 440, 550.
On-low, Sir Richard, 33«, 338, 346,
347.
O|>ening of IVliament, the, by
K.I «. u. I VII., COLOURED PLATK
facing /». 211, 315 (ill.), 317 (i//.) ;
by Henry VI.. 301 (ill.) ; by Queen
Victoria, 300 (///.), 310 (iu.). See
alto it>. 207-317 IIIK! 364-a
Orange girl, the, 78 («7/.X 80.
( >range, Mary, I*rince88 of. 32 (ill.).
Oratory, the, 287 288 (ill.), 559 (ill.).
Order Ikxik mutilated by James I., 27.
Orford, the Earl of. See Walpole.
< >— iniMon, Viscount See Denison.
Oxenden, Sir George. 441.
Oxcnford, the Earl of, 306.
Oxford, the Earl of, 05 (with ill.), 06,
156, 307, 350 (note), 566.
Paget, Lord, 187.
Pointed Chaining, the, 4, 6. 8, 15
(ill.) 48. 141 (ill.), 188 (ill.), 906,
300 (i7/.), 407^ 409 (ill.), 560.
I'.iintings. iVe P rescoes.
Pairing, 377.
Palace Yard, 1 (ill.), 4, 74 (ill.), 113
(ill.), 147 (///.), 275 («7/.), 371 (ill.),
5*5 (with ill.), 53(i (with ill.), 537,
538, 530, 540, 541, 542, 541, 547,
558 (ill.), 561 (('//.).
Palatine, Chnrles the Elector, 30.
l>algrave, Sir F., 168.
Palgrave. Sir R. F. ])., 250, 263, 547.
Palmer, George, 38.
Palmerston, Lord, 8 (ill.), 204, 208. 210
(with ill.), 233, 354, 460, 475 (ill.),
489, 490, 404, 405, 496, 520, 573.
Paris, Matthew, 557.
Parker, Thomas (Earl of Macclesfield),
COLOURED PLATE facing p. 137,
440 (with ill.), 441, 442, 443.
Parliament Chamber, t h>-, 6.
Parliament, the first, 9 ; (Irst pictorial
representation of, 10 ; old-time
Parliaments, 10-16 ; wages of
members. 12 ff. ', fines, etc., for
laxity of attendance, 14 ff. ; in
the .sixteenth century, 17-24 ; in
the seventeenth century, 25-56 ;
social aspects, 67-76 ; the Lobby,
77 85 ; ladies at the House, 86-94 ;
in the eighteenth century, 05-132 ;
destruction by fire, 104-72 ; coro-
nation ceremonies, 17:?-!)!); in the
nineteenth century, 200-211, )."!)-
531: detailed description, 231 !)2 :
lh«- House at work, etc., 38<) i^'i ;
Parliaments of England, 579-80.
Illuslfititnui: 13, 16, 22, 27, 00, 164,
171, 233, 235, 3 Ui, 350. See alto
Commons, Lords.
Parliamentary reporting, 221.
Parliamentary vote to victorious
general, an early, 329.
Parlour, or mouth of the House, 318.
Parnell, Chnrles Stewart, 85, 354, 504.
Boe(tU.X
Parry, Dr., 53-.
Paulet, l/ird, 506.
Payment of members, 12.
Pearson, J. I... A.I;. A., i:u.
Pearson. Joseph, 78, N i. - 1 .
iv.u>.,n 's " Political Dictionary," 78.
i Peel (A. W.), Ix>rd, 58, 202, 2!M », 856, 350,
357 (i7/.) 35H (with ill.), 30H, 370.
Peel, Cem-ral, HIT.
Peel, Sir Hubert, S (///.), 170, 204, 208,
200 (i7/.), 214, 216,218, 353, in...
452, M»i, 401, 405, 172, 473 (with
»7/.), 474, 470, 480, 481, 482, 483,
484, 48') (ill.), 486, 487, 488, 520,
576.
Peers' Chamber, the, 242 (i7/.) 244.
Peers, House of. See Lords, House of.
I '• Ih, mi. Harry, 43.
Pelham, Henry, 102, 104 (i7/.), 106,
108, 307, 308, 570.
Pembroke, the Earl of, 174, 176, 187,
188, 550.
Pendarvis, Mrs.. 90.
Pensionary Parliament, 51.
Pepys, Samuel, 144 (ill.), 285 (ill.),
388, 389, 390. 542, 544.
Perceval, Colonel, 467.
Perceval, Spencer, 81 (ill), 82, 204,
391 (with ill.).
Percival, Lord, 414.
Percy, Sir Thomas, 180.
Percy, Thomas, 265 (ill.), 266, 268.
Perrers, Alice, 320.
Perry, 225.
Peter the Great, 146, 147 (ill.).
Peters, Hugh. 548 (ill.), 550.
Petition of Right, 32.
Petitions, 370. 371.
Petty, Sir William, 542.
Philips, Sergeant, 339, 400.
Philips, Sir Robert, 29.
Pichegru, 573.
Pickering, Sir James, 319.
Pierrepoint, Evelyn, 158.
Piggott, Dr., 161.
Pjggott, Sir Christopher, 25.
Pitt, Lady Hester, 121.
I'itt, Mrs., 160.
Pitt, William (Earl of Chatham), 65,
96, 104, 105, 108, 109, 110 (with
ill.). Ill, 112, 113, 114, 116, 117
(ill.), 110, 132, 141, 250, 308, 520,
570, 576.
Pitt, Willliam (the younger), FRONTIS-
I-IKCE, 72, 82, 120, 124, 127, 128,
130, 131 (ill.), 132 (with HI.), 2<K>.
220, 250, 316, 350, 351, 3">2, 417,
450, 452, 520, 571, 572.
Popham. Sir John, 310 (ill.), 338, 398.
Portland, the Duke of, 146, 201, 202
(with ill.).
Portland, I,ord, 577.
Powle, Henry, 324.
Poynter, Sir E. J., P.R.A., 248.
Plimsoll, Samuel, SOI (ill.), 502.
l'l< >\\ man, Piers, 560.
" Praise-God-Barebones Parliament,''
the, 48.
Prayers, 368, 396-405.
Presbyterians mob the Speaker, 340.
Press, the, 85, 221-230.
Pre>- Gallery, the, 227 (|7/.), 229 (ill.).
Pre.xton, Dr.. mi.
Preston, Sir Robert, 316.
Pretiman. Sir John. 3S4, 385.
I'ride, Colonel, i:i, u (with (//.), 388.
- Pride's Pm-e." .|3. It (///.).
Prim. William .1., 27O.
Prince's Chamber, the, 6, 242, 244
(ill.), 2 17 (///.).
Prior ot St. John of Jerusalem, the, 10.
Privy Councils, 21, 28, 566.
Privy Seal Ollice, the, .",72 (///.) :,7«;.
Prynne, William, 43, 44, 538 '(with ///.).
Puckering, Sir John, 33H, 339, 421.
Pulteney, William (Earl of P.aili),
100-106.
Purcell, 51 1
Pyin, John, 29, 30, 39, 40 (ill.), 539,
547 (///), 550.
Queensberry, Duchess of, 87 (ill.), 90.
Questions, 371, 372.
Quorum, a, 370.
Raikes, Robert, 222.
Raleigh, Sir Walter, 26 (ill.), 538, 539,
-,:,<;.
Ratcliffe, 331.
Redesdale, Lord, 246, 350.
Redford, Sir Henry, 329.
Reform Bill division, 217.
Reform Bill, the, 217-19 (ilia.), 497.
Refreshments at the House, 67-76.
Reid, Dr., 171, 234, 235, 209, 270.
Remonstrance, the Grand, 38, 39, 60.
Ilendel, Lord, 144.
Reporters' Gallery fi rst established,228.
Rhenish Wine House, 544
Rhodes, Cecil, 69 (note), 420 (with
ill.), 421 (ill.).
Rich, Sir Richard, 320, 335.
Richard I., 134, 174, 549 (ill.).
Richard II., 7, 12,15 (ill.), 134, 135,
176 (ill.), 178, 180, 181, 246, 288,
319, 520, 537.
Richard III 184, 330 (ill.), SSI.
Richard, Abbot of Evesham, 423.
Richard, Earl, 297.
Richardson, Samuel, 264.
Richmond, the Duchess of, 90.
Richmond, the Duke of, 116 (with
ill.), 140, 560,
Ridley, Sir M. White, 360, 361 (notf).
Rigby, 3i:».
Rights, Bill of, 56.
Rights, Petition of, 56.
Robert the Bruce, 138.
Robing-Room, House of Lords, the,
238, 239 ()7/s.).
Rockingham, the Marquis of. 81, 128.
Roebuck, John Arthur, 486 (i7/.X 400,
495, 496.
Roger of Salisbury, 423.
Rogers, Sir Edward, 302.
J{»lHiul, the, 80. 350, 448.
llookwood, Ambrose, 267, 269.
Rosebery, the Earl of, 144, 308, 528,
530, 532, 533 (ill.), 577.
Rothschild, Baron Lionel de, 511.
lions, Francis, 313 (ill.).
Royal Commissions, 419.
Royal Gallery, House of Lords, the,
240, COLOURED PLATK faeutg />.
241, 243 (;7/.).
Index
591
Royal Speeches, 297-317, 3C4-8.
Rudyard, Sir B., 400 (ill.), 401.
"Rupert of Debate," the, 465.
Russel, John, 330.
Russell, Earl (John Francis), 240.
Russell, Lord John (Earl Russell),
218, 220, 248, 459 (with ill), 460
(with ill.), 464, 489 (with ill.), 490,
492, 494, 496.
Russell of Killowen, Lord, 230, 520(ill.).
Rutland, the Duke of, 144.
Rutland, the Earl of, 306.
Sacheverell, Dr., 154, 155, 156 (ill.),
347.
St. Albans, Viscount. See Bacon, Sir
Francis.
St. Edmund's Chamber, the. See
Painted Chamber, the.
St. John of Bletsoe, Lord, 300.
St. John, Henry. See Bolingbroke.
St. John, Mr., 566.
St. Leonards, Lord, 453 (ill.), 454.
St. Loe, Sir William, 302.
St. Margaret's Church, 363 (ill.), 396
(with ill.), 397 (ill.), 401 (ill.),
403 (ill.), 548, 550, 552 (with ill.),
553, 554, 556.
.St. Paul's Cathedral, two Houses go
in procession to, 336, 397.
St. Stephen's Chapel, FRONTISPIECE,
1 (ill.), 7, 8, 17, 42 (ill.), 48, 50,
138 (ill.), 140 (ill.), 165 (ill.), 168
(ill.), 248, 250, 255 (ill.), 293-6,
327 (ill.), 334 (ill.), 563.
St. Stephen's Hall, 132 (ill.), 169 (ill.),
249 (ill.), 250.
Salisbury, the Marquis of, 144, 314,
COLOURED PLATE facing p. 377,
440, 494 (ill.), 497, 498, 499, 514,
517 (ill.), 520 (ill.), 532.
Salomons, Alderman, 511.
Sancroft. Bishop, 154.
Sandwich, Lord, 446, 449.
Sandars, J. S., 568 (ill.).
Sandys, 103, 104.
Sandys, Mrs., 570.
Sandys, Samuel, 570.
Sandys, Sir Edwin, 26.
Saunderson, Lady Francis, 90.
Saunderson, Sir William, 90.
Sawbridge, 120, 146.
Scenes in the House, 19 (ill.), 21, 22,
•I'A, 30, 34, 35 (with ill.), 36, 37
(ill.), 38, 39, 40 (with ill.), 44,
46, 47 (ill.), 49 (ill.), 54, 120, 206,
351, 356, 501.
Schomberg, 302.
Scobell, Mr., 48, 403.
Scolcrot't, Jean, 147.
Scott, Mrs., 90.
Scott, Sir Gilbert, 288, 557, 563.
Seal of the Commonwealth, the, 45.
Selborne, the Earl of, 455, 457 (ill.).
Selden, John, 29, 30 (ill.), 34, 35,
380 (ill.).
Select Committees, 410.
Senate of Lilliput, 223.
Sermons preached before the
Commons, 401, 550.
Seymour, Sir Edward, 88, 324, 343,
344, 347 (ill.).
Shaftesbury, the Earl of, 429, 430,
432, 433 (with ill.), 434.
Sharpe, Dr., 402.
Sharpe, William, 567.
Sheffield, Lord, 569.
Sheppard, Jack, 443.
Sheil, Richard Lalor, 466, 467.
Sherbrooke, Viscount, 498 -(ill.), 500,
504, 553.
Sheridan, Mrs.. 89.
Sheridan, R. B., FRONTISPIECE, 82,
120, 123, 124 (with ill.), 161, 200,
201 (ill.), 204.
Sherrington, Gilbert, 147.
Ship Money, 35, 36.
Shirley. Sir Thomas, 382.
Shrewsbury, the Duke of, 439.
Sibthorpe, Colonel, 467.
Siddons, Mrs., 450.
Sidmouth, Lord. See Addington.
Sidney, the Hon. Henry, 188.
Simon of Sudbury, 178, 423.
Sinclair, Captain, 412.
"Single-Speech Hamilton," 111.
Skippon, Sergeant-Major, 538.
Smith, the Rev. Sydney, 204 (ill.).
Smith, Robert, 571.
Smith, W. H., 254. 516 (with ill.), 574.
Smoking-Room, the, 80.
Smollett, 569.
Snuff-taking, 66.
Soane, Sir John, 135, 148 (with ill.),
415.
" Soapy Sam," 457.
Solomon's Porch, 128.
Somers, Lord, 438, 439 (with ill.), 440.
Somerset, the Protector, 152.
South African Committee, the, 420,
421 (ill.).
South Sea Bubble, the, 410, 411,
413 (ill.), 441.
Southampton, Lord, 324, 325.
Speaker, a corrupt, 56, 344.
Speaker asleep, 328.
Speaker, election of described, 361.
Speaker executed, a, 330.
Speaker fined for late attendance, 15.
Speaker first to be ennobled, 350.
Speaker gives a casting vote, 351.
Speaker, joke practised on a, 343.
Speaker, violent speech by a, 349.
Speaker's Chair, the, 256.
Speaker's deputy appointed, 326.
Speaker's Dinners, origin of, 57.
Speaker's duties, 326.
Speaker's election not ratified, 524.
Speaker's eye, catching the, 378.
Speaker's prayers, 398.
Speaker's salary, 325.
Speakers, 10, 15, 54, 57-66, 82, 83 (ill.)
106, 119, 144, 304, 316, 318-60,
361, 407, 409, 583, 584. See also :
Abercromby, James.
Abbot, Charles.
Addington, Henry.
Bamfield, Thomas.
Bell, Sir Robert.
Brand, Henry Bouverie.
Bussey, Sir John.
Catesby, William.
Charlton, Sir Job.
Chaucer, Thomas.
Chute, Challoner.
Coke, Edward.
Compton, Spencer.
Cornwall, Charles Wolfran.
Crooke, Sergeant.
Gust, Sir John.
De la Mare, Sir Peter.
De Montfort, Peter.
Denison, John Evelyn.
Dudley, Edmund.
Empson, Richard.
Finch, Sir Heneage.
Finch, Sir John.
Foley, Paul.
Glanville, Sir John.
Gregory, Sergeant.
Grenville, Hon. W. W.
Grimston, Sir Harbottle.
Gully, William Court.
Hare, Sir Nicholas.
Harley, Robert.
Heigham, Clement.
Hungerford, W.
Inglefield, Thomas.
Lefevre, Charles Shaw,
Lenthall, William.
Littleton, Sir Thomas.
Long, Sir Lilleborne.
Lovell, Thomas.
Mitford, Sir John.
More, Sir Thomas.
Norton, Sir Fletcher.
Oldhall, Sir William.
Onslow, Arthur.
Onslow, Richard.
Peel, Arthur W.
Philips, Sergeant.
Pickering, Sir James.
Popham, John.
Powle, Henry.
Puckering, Sir John.
Redford, Sir Henry.
Rich, Richard.
Rous, Francis.
Russel, John.
Seymour, Edward.
Stitton, Charles Manners.
Thorpe, Thomas.
Tiptoft, Sir John.
Tresham, William.
Trevor, Sir John.
Wray, Christopher.
Yelverton, Sergeant.
Speakership, divisions relating to,
324, 353, 360.
Speech from the Throne. See Royal
Speeches.
Spencer, Lord, 571.
Spencer, Lord Charles, 309.
Spiller, Benjamin, 261.
Spratt, 550.
Stafford, the Earl of, 178, 538.
Stafford, Edward. See Buckingham,
the Earl of.
Stanhope, the Earl of, 411 (with ill.).
Stanhope, General, 98.
Stanley, Lord (the Earl of Derby),
455, 460, 465 (with ill.), 466, 467,
490, 492, 493, 496, 497, 499-
Star Chamber, the, 8. 21, 34 (ill.), 3G,
409, 544, 545 (with ill.), 547.
Steele, Sir Richard, 96, 97, 98 (with
ill.).
Stephen, 6, 7, 174.
Stephenson, Mr., 280.
" Stiff Dick," 346.
Stokes, Mistress, 86, 87.
Stone, Sir Benjamin, 142, 526 (ill.).
592
Index
«<ti.«ir..r.l, tin- Karl of, ».•• (ill.\ 36
(with 1^.1 i:.2 (with i//.X i.vv«3.
Straus. l>.r.l. :t
Si rude. :«.-.. :c», i. MI//.).
••Stun!) Beggar*, 104
Suffolk, tin- Duke of. |.-,i. 330,
Suffolk, ili,- Earl of. i
Bogden. Sir Ed ward. XT si.
Sunderland, tin- Karl of. 411. -Ill («//.).
Supply, Cummin- ••• "I. li'Hi. 376.
Sn-%. \, (In- Kutl nf,
Sute. Mr. mi.
Suttoii, Sir Clmil<-> Manner* (Vis-
count Canterbury). 320 (ill.), 352,
353 (with •//.).
Swarton, Sarah, 1 17.
TalUit, I/ml. 4l4(i//), 41V
Talliot. Sir Gilbert, 187.
Talfourd, Sir T. N . 17:! (ill.), 473.
TajH'Mnrv >. . i i -sooea.
Ta|H-stry Sjieerh, Chatham's, 114.
Tiisli, I'.rian, 23.
Taylor, Mr., 225.
Taylor. Sir John, 567.
Temple Church, the, 4O9 ; motion for
fast nt. 22.
Temple, Karl. AVr lirenville, ItirhurJ.
Temple, I.ord, 146.
Terrare, th-. ii 1
Theed, William. -Jll.
Thomas. l/.rd. :wi.
Thompson. Alderman, 210.
Thonu-y Island, 2.
ThorjK-, Thomas, 3»i.
Throne, the Koyal, House of Lords,
313 (.//.).
Tlmrlow, Ixird, 162, 446, 447, 448
(with ,11.).
Tii-rney, 2<)8.
Tilly, Captain, 573.
Tilt Yard, the, 537.
Tiptoft. Sir John, 320.
"Ton.
Toby, M.P., 230.
Townshend, Charles, 113, 114 (with
ill.), 12". 122.
Townshend, Thomas, 402 (with ill.).
Tniske. 515.
Trreuthiek. 12".
Trelawney, Bishop, 154.
Tn-ham, Sir Francis, i!i;7.
Tresham, William, 33(1.
Tn-vor, Sir John, Mi (with ill), 344,
315. :iit;.
Trials, 6, 69, 1.13, 14H-02, 212. 21",
2 1-'. :r,2. I/liisti-'ttioii* : a, <;, 1:12,
l.'iS, i:.7, ir.it. 1(»), 1(KJ, 213.
Trout, Oeorgc, 220 (i//.).
Truro, Ixird 4:.:..
Turk's H.-JK! Inn, the, ,r>42.
Turner, Bishop. l">i.
Turner, Charl.-s, 1 Hi.
Twi--, 21fi.
Tyrrwhytt, Sir Tliomas, 211.
William. 2!»2.
\'nt, the Irish whisky, 7:. (///.), 76.
Vat, the Valentin, fix (,//.). 7ti.
Ventilating ' 'haniU-r, ladies accom-
modated in, !I2.
Ventilation, 270-74 (with Hit.).
Verner, Hi7. l*:i (///.).
N'erulam, liaron. Set Bacon, Sir
Kranriv
Virtorin, (Jucen, 171, 173, 1UO, 296,
309 (i//.X 4ft9, 460, 461 (ill.), 462,
17s (///.), 502 (•//.).
Vietoria Tower, the, 232 (ill.), 234
(with ///.), 23.-i, 23(! (('//.), 237, 270,
2s:i, .Mi:t (ill.).
Villiers, Charles IVIhain, 480.
Villiers, (Jeorge. 8te Buekingham,
the Duke of.
Vote Otliee. the, 3(!6 (ill.), 372 (///.),
37:. (///.).
VOTW, l-Mwanl, 404.
Viilliamy, .Mr., 279, 280.
Wages of members of Parliament. Ki.
Wales, the Prince of (present— 1902),
1 II.
Wallace, Sir William, 150.
Waller, Edmund, 548 (('//.), 550.
\\aljM.le, Horace, 106 (ill.), 110, 111,
126,550, 566.569,570.
Walpolc, Lord, 2S(i.
Walpolc, IJandolph C, 262.
Waljwle, Sir Robert. W, 66 (with ill.),
98, 100 (with ill.), 101 (with ilL\
102 (with ill.), 103, 104 (with ill.),
105, 106, 108, 109, 125 (///.), 22:5.
250, 308, 440, 539, 550, 568,569,570.
Walter, .Mr., -Hi7, 468.
Wanklyn, Colonel, :{W.r>.
Warbeck, Perkin, 537, 538.
Wardle, Colonel, 388 (ill.).
Wnrenne, the Earl of, 176.
Webb, Mr., 567.
Webster, Daniel, opinion of the
Parliament of 1628, 31.
UYddrrlumi, 349,567.
Wellington, the Duke of, 208, 210
(ill.), 214, 392, 449, 460, 462, 463
(with ill.), 466, 569 (fVO, 572.
Wentworth, Paul, 22, 23, 32.
Wentworth, Peter, 21, 22.
Wentworth, Sir Peter, 46.
Wuntworth, Thomas. See Strafford,
Earl of.
Westbury, Lord, 455 (with ill.), 456,
457, 458.
Westley, Mr., 166.
Westminster Abbey, 4, 14 (ill.), 28
(///.), 38 (ill.), US (ill.), 399 (///.),
401 (ill.), 555 (ill.), 562 (ill.).
Westminster election, a famous, 531 :
meetingin Westminster Hall, I Hi.
Westminster Hall, 3 (ill.), 6, 8, 10, 11
(///.), 28 (ill.), 74 (///.), 113 (///.),
133-63 (with ills.), 182 (ill.), 183
(///.), 186 (///.), 189 (ill.) Wi (///.),
232, 235, 240, 250, 491 (ill.), 560.
Westminster, the Palace of, 1 /., 14
(///.), 16, 24 (ill), 38 (ill), 149
(///.), 164, 172 (///.).
Westminster— views of : 128, 134,136,
U6.
Westmorland, lAdy, 90.
Wharton, the Duke of,81, 411, 412 (««.).
W!I,.I,K., 119.
Whig and Tory, adoj)tion of the
designations, 56.
Whit bread. 92, 130, 393.
White. Hisiiop. i;,.|.
Whitehall, 8, 55 (,//.), 564 (,'//.), 56.5
(ill.). 568.
Whips, the, 66, 85.
Whitehurst, Mr., 279.
WhitelcH-k, BulstriHle, 51 (ill.), 444.
\\hitman, 276.
Widdrington, Jxird, 155.
WilKrrton-e, Arehdeacon, 142, 405
(with ///.).
WUberforoe, Uishop Samuel. i:,7, 458.
WillM-rforee, William, FKONTISI-II < i
(i9, 211 (»'//.), 227,352.
Wild, Jonathan. I Ili.
Wilkes, John, 118, 119, 120 (ill), 124,
19*5,417, 538.
William I.. 4, 173.
William J L 6, 13:« (with ill.), 136, 173.
William III., 54 (///.), 55 (,//.), 276,
324, 346, 438, 440.
William IV., 173, 199, 308 (///.), :52.\
453, 4.59.
William of Wykelmm. 318 (i7/.), 123.
Williams, John (Bishoi) of Linroln
and Archbishiip of YorkX '-'-
(with ill.t. 121. IL'-.
Wilmington, the Earl of, 3"0, 570.
Winchester, the Marquis of, 300, 302,
314.
Windham, 161, 226.
Wine-cellars at the House of Com-
mons, 67 (i//.).
Wine charges at the House, 71, 7(i.
Winter, Thomas, 265 (ill.), 266, 269.
\N "iteiiitgemot, the, 9.
Wolff, Sir Henry Drummond, 51^.
Wolsey, Cardinal, 17, 18 (///.), 19 (ill),
303 (ill.), 329 (ill), 332, 334, 123,
545.
Women sit in Parliament, 10.
Wood, Charles 216.
Wood. Sir William Page. See
Hatherley, Baron.
Woodfall, William, 123, 224 (ill), 225.
Woolsack, the, 45(i (,//.).
Worcester, the Earl of, 302, 304.
Wray, Sir Cecil, 541, 542.
Wray, Sir Christopher, 331 (<//.) 3!>7.
Wren, Sir Christopher, 250, 27c, 2:11,
503, 566.
Wright, Francis, 226.
Wright, John, 265 (ill), 266.
Wright, Mrs., 166.
Wright, Sir Nathan, 440.
Wyatt, Sir Thomas, 152.
Wymbish, Mr., 12.
Wyndham, George, 530, 532 (with
ill), 634.
Yarmouth, the Earl of, 204.
Yelverton, Sergeant, 323, :5!is.
Yeoman of the (iiianl, a, Coi.oi 1:1 n
Pl.ATK fiieini/ji. 205, 314 (ill).
W\,-ll, Henry, 1:V..
^ onge, Sir \\illiam, 223.
York, the Duke of, 330, 428, 4*).
432.
York Mouse, 425 (///.).
Yorke, Sir Philip, 102.
Zenelly. See Ye veil.
Pfinlal by llaull,
<k fixtf, /.(,(., London mil Aylobury.
014250103
OCT 4 1990