by R S Surtees
The printing-presses of the respective parties were now hard at full work. It was the eve of publication-day of both papers, and the great “WE’S” of the Dozey Independent and the Church and State Gazette sat in their back rooms, combing and riddling the speeches of the respective candidates into English. Independently of the newspaper reports, each party printed handbills for general distribution, containing their own version of the story. The Marquis’s procession was detailed in glowing colours. The bands, the banners, the ribbons, the ladies, the enthusiasm that prevailed, and the surpassing talent that characterised his address.
The Dozey Independent “WE” treated poor Mr. Jorrocks very small.
“This curious old codger,” said the editor in his leading article, “an amalgamation of a cockney and a countryman, half buck half hawbuck, addressed the assembled multitude with a vehemence and an energy truly surprising for a man of his years, but in a dialect perfectly unintelligible to our reporters. It is lamentable to see a respectable-looking old gentleman, with, we understand, many amiable qualities, making a merry-andrew of himself at the bidding of a desperate and expiring faction. ‘Has the old gentleman no friends?’ was the question we repeatedly heard asked; and, in sober earnestness, we ask it ourselves — has he no friends?” —
On the other hand, The Church and State Gazette eulogised Mr. Jorrocks, his sayings and his doings, and made a perfect hero of him. —
“We heartily congratulate the county on the creditable exhibition Mr. Jorrocks made on the hustings this day. His reasoning, his language, his manner, his dress, his address, was all that could be wished by the most zealous patriot. We never listened with greater pleasure to any speech. It was a perfect masterpiece of impassioned eloquence. Bold, vigorous, and concise, it had all the fervour of a Stanley, with the subdued pathos of a Canning.
“We will not detain our readers from the gratification its perusal is sure to afford by any further observations of our own, but conclude by again congratulating the county on the fortunate selection it has made.”
The paper then went on to give the following version of the proceedings, and of Mr. Jorrocks’s speech, which we recommend to the notice of all other editors of Church and State Gazettes throughout the kingdom, some of whom send their champions out much worse mounted than they find them: —
“SELLBOROUGH.
“At eleven o’clock to-day, John Jorrocks, Esq., of Hillingdon Hall, one of Her Majesty’s Justices of the Peace for the county — the chosen champion of the agricultural interest — made his public entry into our town, attended by an immense cavalcade of yeomanry, and farmers on horseback. The procession was preceded by numerous rich and beautiful flags, and a full brass band in uniform (three trumpeters in dirty ducks and high-lows). The honourable gentleman rode in an elegant triumphal car (the old fire-engine), and was attended by his proposer, Hamilton Dobbin, Esq. His seconder, Mr. Mark Heavytail, of the Pet Farm, one of the oldest and most extensive farmers in the county, headed the horsemen. In number they far exceeded a thousand; some thought two thousand: but, perhaps, fifteen hundred would be about the mark — all freeholders!
“Precisely at twelve o’clock the High Sheriff appeared on the hustings; and the usual formalities having been observed, the respective candidates were proposed and seconded.
“The Marquis of Bray addressed the vast assemblage first; but we regret that the total want of accommodation for the gentlemen of the press prevented our reporter catching a single word of what he said.
“Mr. Jorrocks then came forward, and was received with the most deafening applause, accompanied by the waving of handkerchiefs, and general signs of approbation. When silence was at length restored, the honourable gentleman spoke nearly as follows: —
“‘Mr. High Sheriff and Gentlemen, — Before I advert to the important business that has brought us together this day, allow me to notice an inquiry made by the proposer of my noble friend, the Marquis of Bray, as to who I am (cheers). I was in hopes, gentlemen, that the time I have now spent among you — the intercourse I have had with you, coupled with the interest I have taken in the promotion of agricultural science, and, I trust, the faithful discharge of my magisterial duties, would have exempted me from such an inquiry; but, gentlemen, lest the unanswered question of the gallant Captain should lead any to suppose that I am an ambitious adventurer standing forward for the mere gratification of my own vanity, or the still baser motives of personal aggrandisement, permit me to say that I am closely connected with the landed interest of this county; and that I was sought in the retirement of private life by the spontaneous requisition of a large body of my brother landowners and farmers to fight the battle of our common cause.’ (Immense applause, with cries of ‘So you were! So you were!’)
“‘The gallant Captain,’ continued Mr. Jorrocks, ‘spoke in glowing terms of the Duke of Donkeyton’s devotion to agriculture and the expense he incurred in trying experiments, but he (Mr. Jorrocks) fearlessly appealed to the assembled county to say if the farming interest had a truer or more liberal patron than himself!’ (Cheers, and cries of ‘No, no! — it hasn’t! it hasn’t!’)
“‘Without wishing to detract from the merits of the Duke of Donkeyton, he might refer to his own labours in the cause of good farming and scientific improvement. He had invented a machine so curious in its structure, so comprehensive in its operations, that, trembling at the monster he had called into existence, he had not dared to use it, lest it should supersede manual labour, and so throw thousands of industrious poor out of employment! (Great applause.)
“‘The noble Lord had addressed them with great talent and eloquence. Though opposed to the opinions his Lordship had urged, he (Mr. Jorrocks) could not be insensible to the ability with which he had advanced them. If he (Mr. Jorrocks) felt himself unable to compete with the noble Lord in the display of flowery metaphor, he trusted to supply the deficiency by the use of sounder arguments (cheers). He stood there the defender of British agriculture, and, in his opinion, argument was as superior to metaphor. as the yellow waving corn was to the gay parterre. Flowers we could do without, but corn was a matter of vital necessity. The noble Lord talked of his sympathy for the poor, but he (Mr. Jorrocks) yielded to no man in attachment to the lower orders (applause). He wished to see the labouring man fully employed and well paid. What matter did it make to the poor man that he could buy an eightpenny loaf for fourpence, if he had not fourpence to buy it with? Would it increase the demand for labour to throw all the arable land out of tillage? He thought not; neither would it be prudent to depend upon foreigners for food.
“‘I am old enough, gentlemen,’ continued Mr. Jorrocks, ‘to remember the time when that great man, Napoleon Bonaparte — a man at whose name princes trembled and empires shook — I am old enough, I say, to remember the time when that great man, in the plenitude of his power, menaced England from Boulogne heights, threatening to close the ports of Europe against us. Wars, gentlemen, have been, and wars may be again; and if a second Napoleon should arise, how should we manage if he were to do what his predecessor threatened? Would it appease the hunger of the starving millions for Mr. Bright to offer the contents of his warehouse to clothe them? Again, if the stalwart yeomanry, who in former days joined the flower and chivalry of England, were annihilated, who’ should we get to fight the battles of our common cause? Shall we be unmindful of the poet’s truism —
“That a bold peasantry, their country’s pride,
When once destroyed can never be supplied”?
“‘Never, gentlemen!’ continued he; ‘ never! (loud cheers). Let us not be deluded out of the substance of our national independence by the shadow of foreign advantages; let us adhere to the flag that for a thousand years has “braved the battle and the breeze,” and, in the coming contest for this county, let every man remember the emphatic language of Nelson —
“England expects that every man will do his duty.”’
“The honourable gentleman concluded amidst the most
enthusiastic demonstrations of applause.
“A show of hands was then called for and taken, but our reporter has omitted to supply us with the result. From what we saw, however, we have little doubt it would be greatly in favour of Mr. Jorrocks.”
Now for the election.
The polling commenced with great vigour on both sides, but the result of the first day fully justified the confidence with which Mr. Smoothington had assured the Duke, as they quaffed their Burgundy and Bordeaux after the nomination, at Donkeytown Castle, that the Marquis’s success was quite certain. There not having been a contested election in the county since the passing of the Reform Bill, the machinery was not in very good order, and the returns from the different polling-places were badly made; but all accounts agreed that the Marquis was considerably ahead, and Mr. Smoothington, taking the highest number that he heard, told the Duke his son was more than a hundred ahead. His Grace was rejoiced — was sure “they were popular — monstrous popular!”
On the other hand, the agricultural interest, nothing daunted by their candidate’s position on the poll, moved heaven and earth to reverse his situation on the second. Agents and canvassers scoured the county during the night, and every voter was looked after that could be got to the poll. —
The League distributed tons of tracts.
A very unusual activity, for a second day’s polling, prevailed throughout the county, and drab coats and whisker-on-chin-ites, who had never been looked for, cast up most unexpectedly at the different polling-booths; many absentees arrived, some out of gaol — debtors, of course.
Still Mr. Smoothington was confident they couldn’t beat the Duke.
A splendid chair was fitted up for the chairing — green velvet with gold lace; and a grand procession arranged from the Castle, for the declaration of the poll day.
“We’ll annihilate this old Tom Jorrocks,” said the Duke, as the lengthening procession drove from the door; “impudent man, monstrous impudent man!” added he, hurrying away to his library.
Many rumours were afloat as to the ultimate result of the poll. Mr. Jorrocks’s committee had published a statement of the first day’s one, which left our Cockney Squire in a minority of twenty only; still it was the general opinion that the Marquis was far more ahead. In this opinion our friend participated, and had it not been for the convenience of arranging the payment of his hats, he would hardly have taken the trouble of returning to Sellborough. As it was, the Marquis’s dazzling procession had entered, and his Lordship and friends had taken their place on the hustings before the Squire made his appearance. A vast concourse of persons filled the spacious market-place, and compliments passed current while the Sheriff was superintending the casting-up of the poll-books. At length he appeared on the hustings, and pencils begin to appear to take down the numbers as they issued from his lips. A breathless silence ensued as he declared the numbers to be —
For John Jorrocks, Esq.. — . — . — 2617
For the Marquis of Bray. — . — . — 2615
Each party was struck dumb with astonishment.
“Impossible!”— “Wrong!”— “Mistake!”— “Can never be!” issued from the whiskerites; and “Thame! thame!” was lisped by the ladies. A rotten cabbage was thrown at the Sheriff. This roused him from the stupor into which he also seemed to have fallen, and after calling for order, a semblance of which was at length obtained, he declared John Jorrocks, Esq., to be duly elected.
Our Cockney Squire stood in a state of apparent bewilderment receiving the congratulations of his friends, amidst the greatest uproar from the populace. He did not know what he was about. Many of the public-house mob were perfectly furious, and would have torn the Jorrockian jacket off his back if they could have reached him.
After some time spent in dumb show by our friend, each party exerting their lungs to the utmost, the Sheriff sent him word, if he wished to address the meeting, he should now do so; otherwise he would adjourn the court in order to make his return to the writ.
Our friend then stood forward, and uncovered, amidst the most discordant yells and a volley of missiles. That being a game at which two can play, a rotten egg speedily closed one of Captain Bluster’s eyes, when all hands on the hustings began to be particularly anxious for order. Mr. Jorrocks’s friends rallied round him.
Alter some seconds spent in dumb show, he at length articulated as follows —
“Mr. Tgh Sheriff and gen’lmen, I’m perfectly flummoxed at the announcement jest made. I can’t think it’s true. There must be some mistake, the bookkeeper must ‘ave cast hup his accounts wrong! It can never be true that I’ve beat a Markis.” —
Cries of “No, no!”
“Yes, yes!”
“All right! all right!”
“Howsomever, beat or not beat, I’m quite beat for words. Sich a thing never entered my calkilation. John Jorrocks an M.P.!”
“Whe’d ha’ thou’t it?” exclaimed Pigg.
“Ay, indeed, who would?” replied Mr. Jorrocks.
“Friend!” exclaimed a Quaker (Mr. Obadiah Brown), “friend!” repeated he, “thy footman there,” pointing to Pigg, “told me an untruth respecting thy habits of life.”
“‘Ow so?” inquired Mr. Jorrocks.
“He assured me thou wert a teetotaller.”
“Ne doot!” said Pigg, “ne doot!”
“How canst thou say so, when thy master was drunk the night before last?”
“Why! why!” replied Pigg, “that’s nou’t again’ his bein’ a tea-to-taller.” —
“But, friend,” continued Mr. Obadiah Brown, appealing to Mr. Jorrocks, “my brother and myself voted for thee on the understanding that thou wert a teetotaller.”
“Sorry you should ‘ave ‘ad so bad an opinion on me,” replied Mr. Jorrocks. —
“But thou surely wilt not retain the votés?” rejoined Mr. Brown. “They were obtained under false pretences.”
“That’s a lee!” roared Pigg.
“I say they were” retorted Mr. Brown, with vehemence.
“Ar say they warn’t!” roared Pigg. “Thou axed me when ar canvassed thee, gin wor ard Squire was a tea-to-taller, and ar said Yis!”
“Then he’s not, I say! “retorted Mr. Brown.
“He sells tea ony how,” replied Pigg.
The High Sheriff called the parties to order, observing that it was Mr. Jorrocks should address the meeting, if he. were inclined; otherwise the Marquis of Bray had the privilege.
Mr. Jorrocks begged pardon. “He really was so struck iv a heap that he didn’t know wot he was about. He would be werry much obliged to any one who would tell him what to say. He was never in such a pucker afore. Yes, once! No, it wasn’t! It was summut like though. He had arranged a beautiful speech to return thanks for his ball winnin’ a prize, instead of which they axed him to return thanks for his losin’ it, and he couldn’t. It was too much for his feelins. So now he’d come to tell his friends where to apply to for their ‘ats, instead of which he had to trouble them for them, and to thank the electors who had so gallantly won them for him. (Loud cheers.) He believed there were seventy of them. As many as would last him his life, he thought. It was, indeed, a great wictory! The League, too, had gained a great wictory — a great moral wictory! Nothin’ could be better. Two great wictories! Both parties pleased! They had elected him to Parliament, and he was ready to sacrifice the plisures of retirement and the luxtury of pure country hair, in the enjoyment of which men grumbled if they died afore they were a ‘undred. He was ready, he said, to sacrifice these at their biddin’. He didn’t exactly know who he’d support when he got hup. Young England, at one time, had favour in his eyes; but they lost it by steeple-chasin’ — above all, by Conin’sby ridin’ a steeple-chase in Hautumn.
“‘Upon the who-o-ole,’ as his friend Johnny Wopstraw would say, he didn’t know but he’d support Sir Robert. It was no use doin’ things by ‘alves. He would go the ‘ole ‘og — over shoes over boots. He’d been a Vig all his life, a
nd thought to have died a Vig; but inwestin’ money in land, and findin’ he was likely to be done out of his land, had changed his opinions on that pint. He really thought Sir Robert was a downright clever man. He had found the country reg’larly hup the spout, and had now restored it to hunexampled prosperity. If Sir Robert ‘ill stick by us poor farmers, I really think I’ll stick by him,” continued Mr. Jorrocks. “Be wot they call Conservative. ‘Tory men with Vig measures,’ as Conin’sby says. Sir Robert had played him rayther a dirty trick about his ball, but he could forgive him. He could forgive him, and he believed the generous hanimal could forgive him. Partin’ with his ball would give him unmitigated pain, but he couldn’t take him hup to Parliament. He must, however, be partin’ himself. It was past two o’clock, and he should like to be chaired, for he’d promised to dine with his neighbour, little Trotter, whose beautiful darter had been married that mornin’. It would be a great surprise to Trot to find him returned to Parliament as well as to dine with him. He should, however, never forget the kindness of the farmers. He would keep a watchful eye on their interest. He would make his trusty Scotch bailiff, James Pigg, manager of his property. He should establish a model farm, like the Duke of Donkeyton’s. Guano, nitrate o’ sober, Willey’s dust, Clarke’s compost, petre salt, all scientific mextures should have a fair field and every favour; and he would come down annually twice a year to lector and report on them!”
“MUCK’S YOUR MAN!” roared Pigg, as his master bowed his adieus to the meeting.
[ADVERTISEMENT. ]
TO PARENTS AND GUARDIANS.
PROFESSOR PIGG, of the ROYAL CALEDONIAN UNIWERSITY, “ having been appointed by John Jorrocks, Esq., M.P., to manage his extensive agricultural concerns, begs to announce his intention of receiving a limited number of MUD STUDENTS, who will be instructed in the newest and most approved farming mysteries, particklar the use of guano, nitrate of sober, and other hartificial mextures.