Britain in the First Age of Party, 1689-1750: Essays Presented to Geoffrey Holmes

BRITAIN IN THE FIRST AGE OF PARTY 1680-1750

Prospect of Pierrepont House, Nottingham, c. 1708-13. Formerly attributed to Leonard Knyff. (Reproduced by permission of the Yale Centre for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection)

BRITAIN IN THE FIRST AGE OF PARTY 1680-1750

ESSAYS PRESENTED TO GEOFFREY HOLMES

EDITED BY CLYVE JONES

THE H A M B L E D O N PRESS LONDON

AND

RONCEVERTE

Published by The Hambledon Press 1987 102 Gloucester Avenue, London NW1 8HX (U.K.) 309 Greenbrier Avenue, Ronceverte WV 24970 (U.S.A.) ISBN 0 907628 89 3 (Cased) 0 907628 90 7 (Paper) (C) The Contributors 1987 British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data Britain in the first age of party, 1680-1750: essays presented to Geoffrey Holmes. 1. Great Britain — Politics and government—1660-1714 2. GreatBritain — Politics and government — 1714-1760 I. Jones, Clyve II. Holmes, Geoffrey, 1928941.07 ' DA43S

Library of Congress CatalogiHg-in-Publication Data Britain in the first age of party. Bibliography: p.xiii-xvii. Includes index. Contents: Religion and royal succession / Eveline Cruickshanks — the electorate in the first age of party / W. A. Speck — The precursors of political radicalism in Augustan Britain / H.T. Dickinson — [etc. | 1. Great Britain — Politics and government — 1660-1714. 2. GreatBritain —Politics and government — 1714-1760. 3. Holmes, Geoffrey S., 1928. I. Holmes, Geoffrey S., 1928II. Jones, Clyvc, 1944DA 435. B75 1987 941.06 87-14857 Printed and bound in Great Britain by WBC Bristol and Maesteg

Contents

Preface Clyve Jones Geoffrey Holmes: An Appreciation W. A. Speck Abbreviations Bibliography of Geoffrey Holmes Clyve Jones List of Contributors 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Introduction: Stability in Politics and Society, 1680-1750 J. V. Beckett Religion and Royal Succession: The Rage of Party Eveline Cruickshanks The Electorate in the First Age of Party W. A. Speck The Precursors of Political Radicalism in Augustan Britain H. T. Dickinson The House of Lords and the Growth of Parliamentary Stability Clyve Jones The Development of the Political Press J. A. Downie Popular Culture and Popular Politics: Some Regional Case Studies Michael Mullett Local Government Lionel Glassey Party in a Civic Context: London from the Exclusion Crisis to the Fall of Walpole Henry Horwitz Urban Development in the Age of Defoe

vii xi xiv xv xxi 1 19 45 63 85 111 129 151 173 195

Peter Borsay

11

The Anglican Clergy of Northern England EricJ. Evans 12 John Bull's Other Kingdoms: The Government of Scotland and Ireland Daniel Szechi and David Hayton Index

221 241 281

This page intentionally left blank

Preface

The aims of this volume are twofold: first, it is an affectionate tribute by friends, colleagues, collaborators and former pupils to Geoffrey Holmes, one of Britain's finest historians, on the twentieth anniversary of the publication of British Politics in the Age of Anne, his first and most influential book; secondly, it is hoped that it will prove useful in teaching by bringing together a group of essays by leading historians, which looks at various aspects of the question of whether or not there was stability in British politics and society during the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. These two aims are complementary in many ways, not least that Geoffrey has taken great pains and enjoyment in teaching generations of undergraduates at Glasgow and Lancaster, an aspect of his career which he regards as rewarding and as important as his writing and research. Further Geoffrey has himself in a recent essay looked at the problem of stability in Augustan Britain. Whatever the dissagreemcnts among historians as to whether Britain saw the development of a more stable society or not, the problem does remain central to the historiography of the period, and has done so since at least 1965 when]. H. Plumb first tried to answer the question in his Ford Lectures, published also in 1967 as The Growth of Political Stability in England, 16751725. That the problem has not been answered and also refuses to go away is reason enough for this volume; that this collection should also provide an opportunity to celebrate the work of Geoffrey Holmes is doubly fortunate. These essays also form part of a triple celebration, for Hambledon Press has also recently republished, with a new extended introduction, British Politics in the Age of Anne, which will ensure the work remains an inspiration for undergraduates, and an edition of Geoffrey's collected essays and articles under the title Politics, Religion and Society in England, 1679-1742. The editor would like to thank John Beckett, David Hayton and Bill Speck for their advice and encouragement during the preparation of these essays. Martin Sheppard gave much help at all stages of the publication of this volume. The editor is very grateful to Alasdair Hawkyard for compiling the index. Finally, contrary to the usual practice, the editor would like to thank someone else's wife for her support and encouragement of the project. Ella Holmes, while keeping Geoffrey in the dark, supplied valuable information for the bibliography and the photograph. Bill Speck pays tribute to her place in Geoffrey's life

viii Britain in the First Age of Party and work in the Foreword. In 1968 Bill described Geoffrey as il miglior fabbro;11 can only echo that description here, while extending it to Ella la migiiorefabbra. July 1986 1

xi.

C.J.

In his Preface to Tory andWhig: The Struggle in the Constituencies, 1701-1715(1970), p.

Photograph: Harold Dickin

Geoffrey Holmes

This page intentionally left blank

Geoffrey Holmes: An Appreciation W. A. Speck Volumes of this nature generally owe their appearance to the fact that a scholar has reached a milestone in his or her career, often towards or at the. end of it. An editor is duly appointed to cajole contributions from others associated with the distinguished academic, some of whom notoriously use the occasion as an opportunity to get into print a piece which might never have seen the light of day otherwise. The result can be an incoherent festschrift, which only-the press of the university to which the recipient's career had been dedicated would undertake to publish. Certainly commercial publishers regard such festschrif ten as drugs on the market. This celebration of Geoffrey Holmes' achievement did not begin in this way. It is true that he took early retirement from the University of Lancaster in 1983 at the age of 55, while the idea was also conceived about that time. But early retirements of university teachers of Geoffrey's generation were commonplace in the aftermath of the financial devastation inflicted upon their institutions by the government in 1981. Moreover, like many, he has continued to teach part time. Above all he was committed to several major publishing ventures. In no way, therefore, was the occasion an abrupt termination of his scholarly career. Rather the time was felt to be ripe for such a tribute by many historians working in the period which he has stamped with his own authority, the history of Britain from the reign of Charles II to that of George II. No editor was given the task of bribing or bullying them into contributing. On the contrary, spontaneous enthusiasm for the idea preceded any formal arrangements for publication, and at one time there was a sort of editorial collective. Only when the resistance of publishing houses to traditional festschriften was encountered were the team brought under a single editor, and even then they willingly accepted suggestions that the subjects of their contributions should be such as to make a collection of essays which would appeal not only to a publisher but also to the widest possible readership. So far from reluctantly agreeing to contribute some obscure essay from the bottom drawer, all were ready to write afresh on major topics which focused on coherent themes. Their willingness to undertake to contribute to a collection of essays which would stand on its own rather than to a more conventional festschrift sprang from their conviction that Geoffrey deserved the tribute of a volume devoted to the substantial themes which he had pioneered

xii Britain in the First Age of Party and from their enthusiasm to be associated with it. That he inspired these sentiments says much both for the high regard with which his scholarship is held and for the warmth and affection which his friends feel for him. His own contributions have all been of the highest calibre. Preeminent amongst them, however, must be placed British Politics in the Age of Anne. As Professor John Kenyon has acknowledged, this is some of those rare historical works which is also a work of art, the only one of its generation, moreover, to stand alongside Sir Lewis Namier's Structure of Politics at the Accession of George III. Its artistry is phenomenal. Open virtually any page and you will find miniature portraits of politicians painted with absolute precision, complex networks of relationships delineated with perfect clarity, or intricate ideological arguments explicated with complete authority. These minute observations are based on a quite staggering amount of documentary evidence. Yet they never degenerate into a blizzard of detail. They are always carefully placed within an overall structure commanding an extraordinary breadth of vision. The book rises far above its mass of information to convey complete conviction about its subject. So completely has it convinced historians of the period that it can be hard to realise its impact when it was published in 1967. The then current interpretation of politics in the early eighteenth century did resemble an intellectual snowstorm of atomised particles. Geoffrey effectively demolished it by spelling out so clearly and with such authority the primacy of party politics under Anne. One historian even lamented that he had virtually killed off her reign as a subject for academic controversy. As if to have written the definitive work on the political history of the period was not enough, Geoffrey has also enhanced our understanding of Augustan society. With his work on the professions, on Geoffrey King and on the Sachevcrell affair he pioneered explorations of the period's social history. He has also found time to edit a new and successful series on the History of England, even pulling off the impressive feat of persuading Messrs. Longman to bring it out while an earlier series of theirs was still incomplete. Recognition of his eminence in the field has been forthcoming from the scholarly community. The University of Oxford bestowed a D.Litt. upon him in 1978. The British Academy elected him to a Fellowship in 1983, and the Royal Historical Society to a Vice-Presidency in 1985. This collection of essays in his honour is a further tribute to his achievement. Great scholars do not always earn affection as well as esteem. Yet Geoffrey is warmly remembered by his former colleagues and students at the Universities of Glasgow and Lancaster. The Lancastrians even forgave his choosing to live in his native Yorkshire when he moved from Scotland in 1969. The choice was not surprising, for few Yorkshiremen are more attached to their county. Geoffrey's devotion to its cricket is

Geoffrey Holmes: an Appreciation xiii such that he even acquired some of the sacred turf from Bramall Lane for his lawn at Burton-in-Lonsdale. Yet he also devoted himself fully to Lancaster University, which showed its appreciation by promoting him to a personal Chair shortly after his arrival there as Reader. Two of his colleagues and two students have contributed to this volume. The range of his academic friends extends far beyond the institutions which he served. One of the contributors is from the United States of America, though he has never crossed the Atlantic. His delight in the Augustan period of British history, and his willingness to share his enthusiasm with all who show interest in it too, has established a connection comparable with Robert Harley's in its extent and diversity. Younger historians have benefited immeasurably from his knowledge and guidance. Those who know him personally have profited from conversations bringing eighteenth-century England vividly to life, peopled with a vast array of individuals each lovingly recalled with chapter and verse of documentation. His zest for his favourites and their idiosyncrasies knows no bounds, and he can talk for hours, morning, noon and night about them. Others, approaching him for information or advice on an article or chapter, discover with admiration approaching awe the meticulous pains which he bestows not only on the matter involved but also on the manner of expressing it. In style as well as in scholarship he is a perfectionist. His astonishing intellectual energy has not, alas, been matched by physical fitness. On the contrary, he has been plagued by poor health throughout his career and underwent major surgery in 1982 and again in 1985. At times it has seemed miraculous that he was able to maintain his scholarly commitments. Much of the miracle can be put down to the dedication of his wife Ella, who, as his close friends are aware, though only he can fully appreciate, has sustained his scholarship and his spirit. His appreciation of her support expressed in British Politics, unlike many such acknowledgments, referred to matters of fact and not of flattery. At least one bachelor historian seriously contemplated matrimony when he realised how much Ella, a historian in her own right, had been more than a mere helpmeet to Geoffrey. He would be the first to acknowledge how much his own achievement has been hers too. The contributors to this volume wish to celebrate that achievement. Its richness is partly indicated by the variety of their contributions, each of which received inspiration from his own works. It should be obvious that he has not created a school of like-minded historians. Indeed some of them have disagreed with each other in print before. The fact that they feel themselves to be nevertheless involved in a co-operative rather than a competitive venture, in a search for the truth about the nature of Augustan society, is also inspired by his own rigorous insistence on the priority of that over all other considerations.

Abbreviations

B.I.H.R. Bodl. CJ. Cobbett, Parl. Hist. C.S.P.Dom. D.N.B.

Ec.H.R. E.H.R. H.M.C. Holmes, British Politics Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society LJ. London Diaries of William Nicolson N.L.S.

P.R.O. R.O. Soc. S.R.O. T.L.S. T.R.Hist.S. U.L. V.C.H. Note:

Bulletin of the Institute of Historical Research Bodleian Library, Oxford Commons Journals Cobbett's Parliamentary History of England. . . 1066 to . . . 1803, ed. W. Cobbett (36 vols., 1806-20) Calendar of State Papers Domestic Dictionary of National Biography (63 vols., 1885-1901) Economic History Review . English Historical Review Historical Manuscripts Commission G. Holmes, British Politics in the Age of Anne (1967) G. Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society in England, 1679-1742(1986) Lordsjournals The London Diaries of William Nicolson, Bishop of Carlisle, 1702-1718, ed. C.Jones and G. Holmes (Oxford, 1985) National Library of Scotland, Edinburgh Public Record Office, London Record Office Society Scottish Record Office, Edinburgh The Times Literary Supplement Transactions of the Royal Historical Society University Library Victoria County History

Place of publication is London unless otherwise stated.

Bibliographical Note: In the notes to the following essays, when a reference is made to an article, essay, or lecture published by Geoffrey Holmes, which has been reprinted in Politics, Religion and Society in England, 1679-1742 (1986), the original reference is followed by one to this collected edition.

A Bibliography of the Works Published by Geoffrey Holmes

Compiled by Clyve Jones Essays reprinted in Politics, Religion and Society in England, 1689-1742 (1986) are marked by an asterisk.

1960 'The Commons' Division on "No Peace without Spain", 7 December 1711', B.I.H.R., XXXIII, 223-34.

1962 'The Hamilton Affair of 1711-1712: A Crisis in Anglo-Scottish Relations', E.H.R., LXXVII, 257-82.*

1965 With W. A. Speck, The Fall of Harley in 1708 Reconsidered', E.H.R., LXXX, 673-98.*

1966 The Attack on "the Influence of the Crown", 1702-16', B.I.H.R., XXXIX, 47-68.*

1967 British Politics in the Age. of Anne (Macmillan, London), 546pp. Edited with W. A. Speck, The Divided Society: Party Conflict in England, 1694-1716 (Documents of Modern History: Arnold, London), 179pp.

1969 Edited Britain After the Glorious Revolution, 1689-1714 (Problems in Focus: Macmillian, London), in which he contributed 'Introduction: Post-Revolution Britain and the Historian' (pp. 1-37), and 'Harley, Stjohn and the Death of the Tory Party' (pp. 216-37).* Review of Court and Country, 1688-1702, by Dennis Rubini (London, 1968), in History, LIV, 104-5. Review of The First Earl of Shaftesbury, by K.H.D. Haley (Oxford, 1968), in History, LIV, 280-1.

xvi Britain in the First Age of Party Review of The Backstairs Dragon: A Life of Robert Harley, Earl of Oxford, by Elizabeth Hamilton (London, 1969), in The Times, 5 April. Review of The Descent on England: A Study of the English Revolution of 1688 and its European Background, by John Carswell (London, 1969), in The Times, 1 November. 1970

Review of Poems on Affairs of State: Augustan Satirical Verse, 1660-1714. Vol. 3, 1682-85, ed. by H. H. Schless; Vol. 4, 1685-88, ed. by G. H. Crump, (London, 1968), in History, LV, 269. Review of Bolingbroke, by H. T. Dickinson (London, 1970), in The Times, 7 December. 1971

Review of The British Aristocracy and the Peerage Bill of 1719, by John F. Naylor (London, 1968), in E.H.R., LXXXVI, 175. Review of The Western Rising: An Account of the Rebellion of James Scott, Duke of Monmouth, by Charles Chenevix Trench (London, 1969), in E.H.R., LXXXVI, 174. Review of Charles H, by Maurice Ashley (London, 1971), in The Times, 16 September. Review of The Jacobite Rising of 1715, by John Baynes (London, 1970), in The Scriblerian, IV, no. 1 (1971), 8-9. 1972

Review of Robert Harley, Puritan Politician, by Angus Mclnnes (London, 1970), inE.H.R., LXXXVII, 127-30. Review of William's Mary, by Elizabeth Hamilton (London, 1971), in The Times, 27 January. Review of The Popish Plot (London, 1972), in The Times, 28 July. Review of James II, by Jock Haswell (London, 1972), in The Times, 28 July. Review of Robert Blake: General-at-Sea, by J. R. Powell (London, 1972), in The Times, 24 August. 1973

The Trial of Doctor Sacheverell (Eyre Methuen, London), 338pp. 'Whirlwind of 1688', T.L.S., 19 October, pp. 1279-80 (anonymous review of William and Mary, by H. and B. van der Zee [London, 1973]; The Revolution of 1688 in England, byj. R.Jones [London, 1972]; and From Revolution to Revolution: England, 1688-1776, by J. Carswell [London, 1973]).

Bibliography of Geoffrey Holmes

xvii

1974

'Sir Robert Walpole', in The Prime Minister, ed. by H. Van Thai (Allen and Unwin, 2 vols., London), I, 29-46.* Review of Party Propaganda under Queen Anne: The General Elections of 1702-13, by J. O. Richards (Athens, Georgia, 1972), in History, LIX, 474-5. Review of The Revolution of 1688 in England, by J. R. Jones (London, 1972), in History, LIX, 472-3. 1975

Religion and Party in Late Stuart England (The Historical Association Pamphlet G86, London), 36pp.* 'Dragon and Antagonist', T.L.S., 21 November, p. 1391 (review of Bolingbroke and Harley, by Sheila Biddle [London, 1975]). Review of Walpole and the Whig Supremacy, byH. T. Dickinson (London, 1973), in History, LX, 127-8.

1976 The Electorate and the National Will in the First Age of Party: An Inaugural Lecture Delivered on 26 November 1975 (The Author, Lancaster), 33pp.* 'The Sacheverell Riots: The Crowd and the Church in Early EighteenthCentury London', Past and Present, No. 72, pp. 55-85. Reprinted in Rebellion, Popular Protest and the Social Order in Early Modem England, ed. by P. Slack (Cambridge, 1984), pp. 232-62.* 'Survivor from the Ashes', T.L.S., 5 March, p. 266 (review of Lord Somers: A Political Portrait, by W. L. Sachse [Manchester, 1975]).

1977 'Gregory King and the Social Structure of Pre-Industrial England', T.R. Hist.S., 5th ser., XXVII, 41-68.* 'The Division of the House', T.L.S., 27 May, pp. 657-8 (review of The Growth of Parliamentary Parties, 1689-1742, by B.W. Hill [London, 1976]). Review of Lord Somers: A Political Portrait, by W. L. Sachse (Manchester, 1975), in E.H.R., XCII, 662-3.

1978 'The Rejuvenated Hanoverians', T.L.S., 14 July, p. 791 (review of Stability and Strife: England, 1714-1760, by W. A. Speck [London, 1977]).

xviii Britain in the First Age of Party 'Science, Reason, and Religion in the Age of Newton', British Journal for the History of Science, XI, 164-71 (review of The Newtonians and the English Revolution, 1679-1720, by Margarey C. Jacob [Hassocks, 1976]). Review of Bolingbroke and Harley, by Sheila Biddle (London, 1975), in E.H.R., XCII, 197. Review of George Hooper, 1640-1727, Bishop of Bath and Wells, by William L. Marshall (Sherborne, 1976), inE.H.R., XCII, 448-9. Review of The History of John Bull, ed. by A. W. Bower and R. A. Erickson (Oxford, 1976), in E.H.R., XCII, 913-14. Review of Poems on Affairs of State: Augustan Satirical Verse, 1660-1714. Vol. 7, 1704-14, ed. by F. H. Ellis (London, 1975), in History, LXIII, 128-9. Review of Reason, Ridicule and Religion: The Age of Enlightenment in England, 1660-1750, by John Redwood (London, 1976), in History, LXIII, 127-8.

1980 'The Politics of Persuasion', T.L.S., 18 April, p. 428 (review of Robert Harley and the Press: Propaganda and Public Opinion in the Age of Swift and Defoe, byj. A. Downie [Cambridge, 1979]). Review of George I: Elector and King, by Ragnhild Hatton (London, 1978), in European Studies Review, X, 115-18.

1981 'The Achievement of Stability: The Social Context of Politics from the 1680s to the Age of Walpole', in The Whig Ascendancy: Colloquies on Hanoverian England, ed. by John Cannon (Arnold, London), 1-22, 26-7; also the 'Colloquy' on Chapter 3, pp. 70-5.* 'The Professions and Social Change in England, 1680-1730' (Raleigh Lecture on History, 1979), Proceedings of the British Academy, for 1979, LXV, 313-54.*

1982 Augustan England: Professions, State and Society, 1680-1730 (Allen and Unwin, London), 348pp. With Clyve Jones, 'Trade, the Scots and the Parliamentary Crisis of 1713', Parliamentary History, I, 47-77'.*

1983 'Eighteenth-Century Toryism', Historical Journal, XXVI, 755-60 (review of In Defiance of Oligarchy: The Tory Party, 1714-60, by Linda Colley [Cambridge, 1982]).

Bibliography of Geoffrey Holmes xix 'All Right on the Night', T.L.S., 4 November, p. 1228 (review of England's Rise to Greatness, 1660-1763, ed. by S. B. Baxter [London, 1983]). Review of The Declaration of Rights, 1689, by Lois G. Schwoerer (London, 1981), in E.H.R.,\CVlll, 629-32. Review of London Politics, 1713-17, ed. by H. Horwitz, W. A. Speck and W. A. Gray (London Record Society Publications, XVII [1981]), in Parliamentary History, II, 244-7. 1984

'The Growing Presence of Parliament', T.L.S., 6 January, pp. 3-4 (review of The House of Commons, 1660-90, ed. by B. D. Henning [3 vols., London, 1983]).

1985 Edited with Clyve Jones, The London Diaries of William Nicolson, Bishop of Carlisle, 1702-1718 (Clarendon Press, Oxford), 772pp. 'Pressure in the House', T.L.S., 1 February, p. 125 (review of Jacobitism and Tory Politics, 1710-14, byD. Szechi [Edinburgh, 1984], zndPolitics and Finance in the Eighteenth Century, by Lucy Sutherland, ed. by A. Newman [London, 1984]). 'Rise of the Magistocracy', T.L.S., 7June, p. 628 (review of The Justices of the Peace, 1679-1760, by Norma Landau [London, 1984]).

1986 Politics, Religion and Society in England, 1679-1742 (Hambledon Press, London), 375pp. [Reprint of 12 essays, articles and lectures.] 'Revolution, War and Politics, 1689-1714' and The Augustan Age, 1689-1714', being chapters 8 and 9 of Stuart England, ed. B. Worden (Phaidon Press, Oxford). Review of Britain in the Age ofWalpole, ed. J. Black (London, 1984), in British Journal for Eighteenth-Century Studies, IX, 227-9.

This page intentionally left blank

List of Contributors

J. V. Beckett is Lecturer in History at the University of Nottingham. His 1975 Lancaster Ph.D., 'Landownership in Cumbria, 1680-1750', was supervised by Geoffrey Holmes. He has published widely on economic and social history, and his Coal and Tobacco: The Lowthers and the Economic Development of West Cumberland, 1660-1760 appeared in 1981. His latest book, The Aristocracy of England, 1660-1914 was published in 1986. Peter Borsay is Lecturer in History at St. David's University College, Lampeter. He has published several essays on English urban culture, 1660-1800, and is at present preparing a study on 'The English Urban Renaissance: Landscape and Leisure in the Provincial Town, c. 16601770' for publication based on his Lancaster Ph.D. supervised by Geoffrey Holmes. Eveline Cruickshanks is editing The House of Commons, 1690-1715 for the History of Parliament Trust. She previously worked on The House of Commons, 1715-54, ed. R. Sedgwick (2 vols., 1970), and published Political Untouchables: The Tories and the '45 in 1979 and (as editor) Ideology and Conspiracy: Aspects ofjacobitism, 1689-1759 in 1982. She was the founding editor of Parliamentary History, 1981-86. H. T. Dickinson is Richard Lodge Professor of British History at the University of Edinburgh. He is the author ofBolingbroke (1970), Walpole and the ]Vhig Supremacy (1973), Liberty and Property: Political Ideology in Eighteenth-Century Britain (1977), British Radicalism and the French Revolution, 1789-1815 (1985), and Caricature and the Constitution, 17601832 (1986). He has also edited three volumes and contributed numerous essays to various books and journals. J. A. Downie is Principal Lecturer in English at Goldsmiths' College, University of London. He is co-editor of The Scriblerian and author of Robert Harley and the Press: Popaganda and Public Opinion in the Age of Swift and Defoe (1979), and Jonathan Swift: Political Writer (1984). Eric J. Evans is Professor of Social History at the University of Lancaster. He is the author of The Contentious Tithe: The Tithe Problem

xxii Britain in the First Age of Party and English Agriculture (1976), Social Policy, c. 1830-1914 (1978), and The Forging of the Modem State: Early Industrial Britain, 1783-1870 (1983). Lionel K. J. Glassey is Lecturer in Modern History at the University of Glasgow. He has published Politics and the Appointment of Justices of the Peace (1979), and is currently engaged on a study of the Exclusion Crisis and on a new edition of Burnet's History of My Own Time. David Hayton is Research Assistant on The House of Commons, 16901715. He has published (as co-editor) Penal Era and Golden Age: Essays in Irish History, 1690-1800 (1979), and several articles, mainly on AngloIrish relations in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. He has been reviews editor of Parliamentary History since 1981. Henry Horwitz is Professor of History at the University of Iowa. He is the author of Parliament, Policy and Politics in the Reign of William HI (1977), Revolution Politicks: The Political Career of Daniel Finch Second Earl of Nottingham, 1647-1730 (1968), and has edited The Parliamentary Diary of Narcissus Luttrell, 1691-1693 (1972), and (jointly) London Politics, 17131717(1981). Clyve Jones is Assistant Librarian at the Institute of Historical Research, University of London. He is co-editor with Geoffrey Holmes of The London Diaries of William Nicolson, Bishop ofCarisle, 1702-1718 (1985), and editor of Party and Management in Parliament, 1660-1784 (1984), and Peers, Politics and Power: The House of Lords, 1603-1911 (1986). From 1986 he has been the editor of the journal Parliamentary History. Michael Mullett is Lecturer in History at the University of Lancaster. He has written on heretical movements, Quakers, seventeenth-century urban politics and Luther. He is preparing a book on popular culture and popular protest. W. A. Speck is Professor of History at the University of Leeds and was formerly G. F. Grant Professor of History at the University of Hull. He has published extensively on early eighteenth-century politics and literature, including Tory and Whig: The Struggle in the Constituencies, 1701-1715 (1970), Stability and Strife: England, 1714-60 (1977), The Butcher: The Duke of Cumberland and the Suppression of the '45 (1981), and Society and Literature in England, 1700-60 (1983). Daniel Szechi is Lecturer in History at St. John's College, Oxford, and has formerly taught at the Universities of Sheffield and Hull. He published Jacobitism and Tory Politics, 1710-14 in 1984, and has contributed articles to various journals on early eighteenth-century politics.

BRITAIN IN THE FIRST AGE OF PARTY 1680-1750

ESSAYS PRESENTED TO GEOFFREY HOLMES

This page intentionally left blank

1 Introduction: Stability in Politics and Society, 1680-1750 J. V. Beckett Before 1941 a book entitled Britain in the First Age of Party would have raised no particular hackles. In the tradition of the nineteenth-century Whig historians it was accepted that politics after the Glorious Revolution came to be conducted by two parties deriving their heritage from the Whigs and Tories of Charles II's reign. From this background emerged the modern party system of the twentieth century. But the influence of Sir Lewis Namier's work on the 1760s was considerable. It suggested a physical distinction between the parties of the immediate post-1688 years, and the parties which emerged, albeit under the same names, in the later eighteenth century. 1 As a result historians began to question the reality of the party strife before the mid-eighteenth century; indeed they started to write about politics beyond 1715 in the Court and Country terminology traditionally associated with the seventeenth century. 2 Even the reality of parties after 1688 came into question. In 1941 an American scholar, Robert Walcott, published an essay in which he claimed to have discovered a multi-party framework of'connexions' which was of much greater significance for politics than the Whig and Tory dichotomy. Walcott's work was superficially attractive, and he followed this initial excursion into the field with a book which purported to show how the connexions — of which he identified seven in 1701 — frequently moved into new alignments with one another.3 By no means everyone agreed with Walcott -J. H. Plumb, for example, gave his book a very sceptical review4 - but the first age of party no longer seemed to be so securely based. Revisionism usually provokes a response, and it came in 1967. Plumb followed up his Ford Lectures delivered two years earlier in the University of Oxford by questioning some of Walcott's findings. Ostensibly his purpose was to demonstrate how this period saw the 1 Sir Lewis Namier, The Structure of Politics at the Accession of George III (2nd edn., 1957); idem, England in the Age of the American Revolution (1930). 2 J. B. Owen, The RiseofthePelhams (1957). Owen continued Co pursue this approach in his later textbook, The Eighteenth Century, 1714-1815 (\974), and it can also be found in the first edition of Dorothy Marshall, Eighteenth-Century England (1962). 3 R. Walcott, 'English Party Politics, 1688-1714', Essays in Modem English History in Honour ofW. C. Abbott (Harvard, 1941), pp. 81-131; idem, English Politics in the Early Eighteenth Century (Cambridge, Mass., 1956). 4 L'.H.K.,i..XXII(1957), 126-9'.

2 Britain in the First Age of Party transition from the turbulence of the seventeenth century to a political stability which by 1725 made English institutions the envy of Europe. It was not, however, a smooth transition because of what he called 'the rage of party'. The ferocity of party strife in these years pointed to a world rather different from Namier's picture of the mid-eighteenth century: 'party division was real and it created instability; indeed, it was the true reflection of it'. 5 This initial assault was followed up in two further books. Geoffrey Holmes and W. A. Speck produced The Divided Society, ostensibly a book of documents, but containing a series of pithy introductions which argued that the whole period 1694-1716 was characterised by a struggle between Whigs and Tories which was reflected throughout society.6 Holmes's own seminal study British Politics in the Age of Anne, provided a detailed account of politics in the early years of the eighteenth century, an account which was widely held to have demolished much of Walcott's argument. Holmes's book provided incontrovertible evidence that a non-party interpretation of the years 1701-15 simply did not square with the available evidence, and his argument received substantial backing in 1970 with the publication of W. A. Speck's study of electoral behaviour. 7 But Anne's reign now appeared to stand on high ground while Court and Country interpretations washed around its base. After all, 1967 had also produced a book by Dennis Rubini which partially aped Walcott by suggesting a partyless vision of the 1690s. The years 1688-1702 were, in Rubini's view, a period when conflict was between Court and Country rather than Whig and Tory.8 Such a view was not easy to square with Horwitz's classification of the 1698 Parliament, and it became even less tenable with the publication of Burton, Riley and Rowlands's analysis of division lists in William Ill's reign. 9 It was finally laid to rest in 1976 when B. W. Hill set out to trace the development of the early parties in the aftermath of 1688, and in 1977 with Henry Horwitz's detailed study of William Ill's reign.10 By this time most historians were prepared to accept that William Ill's 5

J. H. Plumb, The Growth of Political Stability hi England, 1675-1725 (Penguin edn, 1969), p. 159. 6 The Divided Society: Parties and Politics in England, 1694-1716, ed. G. Holmes and W. A. Speck (1967). 7 W. A. Speck, Tory and Whig: The Struggle in the Constituencies, 1701-1715 (1970). K D. Rubini, Court and Country, 1688-1702 (1967). 9 H. Horwitz, 'Parties, Connections and Parliamentary Politics, 1689-1714: Review and Revision', Journal of British Studies, VI (1966), 45-69; idem, 'The Structure of Parliamentary Polities', Britain after the Glorious Revolution, 1689-1714, ed. G. Holmes (1969), pp. 96-114; I. F. Burton, P. W. J. Riley and E. Rowlands, Political Parties in the Reigns of William HI and Anne: The Evidence of Division Lists (B.I.H.R., Special Supplement, no. 7, 1968). ™ B. W. Hill, The Growth of Parliamentary Parties, 1689-1742 (1976); H. Horwitz, Parliament, Policy and Politics in the Reign of William III (Manchester, 1977).

Introduction: Stability in Politics and Society 3 reign had seen the continuation and adaptation of party struggles from the Exclusion crisis, and that these had become the major influence on politics during the reign of Queen Anne. The major issues which produced division are outlined in Dr. Cruickshanks's essay below, and from this it is clear, as Geoffrey Holmes has recently expressed it, that 'a society riven by the animosities of Whig and Tory unquestionably existed in England after the 1688 Revolution'.11 But the argument was not without its critics and although the essays in this volume address a whole range of issues and problems over the period 1680 to 1750 most of them also pay some attention to two of the most serious criticisms. First, if the divisions had been so acute and far reaching why had they not led to extra-parliamentary activity reminiscent of the 1640s and 1679-81, and why had political instability apparently produced no social equivalent? Second, what happened to the conflict after 1715? If party division was really so significant why and when did it wither away, to be replaced by the political stability to which Plumb had referred? These are complex questions, and it is the purpose of this introduction to ask how far we have now come towards finding feasible answers. 2

The first of these problems needs to be seen not so much as an attempt to defend Walcott's version of events as a demand for more evidence to justify terminology such as the 'rage of party'. To be fair, supporters of this position have been willing to recognize drawbacks to the argument. Holmes, for example, has accepted the criticism that Whig-Tory disputes ought to been seen less as a cause of political instability than as a symptom, and he recognizes that important though the political disagreements of the governing elite may have been they never reached a pitch where one side or the other was prepared to appeal to the lower orders in such a way as to risk a repeat of the events of the 1640s.12 But this has not been enough to quell the doubters. Linda Colley has suggested that: 13 despite its superficial extremism, Whig and Tory rivalry in the reigns of William III and Queen Anne was not at base a source of political instability; rather it was a stylised, often ruthless, conflict which took place within a social consensus; a manifestation of the confidence and fundamental political unison of England's landed elite. 11 G. Holmes, 'The Achievement of Stability: The Social Context of Politics from the 1680s to the Age of Walpole', The Whig Ascendancy, ed. J. Cannon (1981), p. 3; Holmes, Politics, Society and Religion, p. 252. 12 Holmes, 'Achievement of Stability', pp. 11, 13; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 262, 264. 13 Linda Colley, In Defiance of Oligarchy: The Tory Party, 1714-60 (Cambridge, 1982), p. 12.

4 Britain in the First Age of Party In this scenario not only does the case for party conflict appear to have been pressed too far, it has also overlooked the extent to which the political struggle took place within limits, and that consequently some of the more colourful terminology is misleading. Several of the essays which follow address this particular problem. One approach to the issue is to look at the press. Dr. Downie confronts the issue head-on by asking what evidence newspapers provide of the reality of political division in Augustan Britain. He takes issue with Dr. Colley's suggestion that contemporary propaganda has misled historians into overplaying the distinctions which existed in the politics of the period. Prior to 1688, he argues, pamphlets and newspapers were often published to meet specific contingencies, and they sometimes recommended extra-parliamentary action. After the Licensing Act lapsed in 1695 the press became a medium of political expression within the normal political channels, but government concern as late as 1712 with the need for some sort of press control suggests that its role was not underestimated by politicians. Walpole saw press criticism of the ministry as an effective safety-valve, but he also went further and built on the preparatory work of Robert Harley in the closing years of Queen Anne's reign to organize the press as a propaganda machine for his own purposes. The language of the press, however, makes it clear that while there was considerable similarity in the terminology and arguments found in the political literature of the 1690s and in the days of Walpole, different considerations obtained in the years from around 1701 to 1715. Anne's reign, in other words, saw the paper war at its height, with both sides presenting the issues in party terms. A second approach is to examine the importance of party considerations away from the political hothouse of London, and this can be tackled in a number of ways. Dr. Glassey approaches it from the point of view of political and party considerations in local government from the 1680s. What he finds is the vulnerability of local government to manipulation from Westminster. From the days of Charles II, intervention had clear party overtones, and the Whig-Tory split was abundantly evident in changes to the commission of the peace. Party strength became important in determining places on the bench, and ultimately had the effect of producing a considerable increase in the number of justices. Consequently Glassey takes issue with the idea of local government as an autonomous autocracy by the early eighteenth century, because the sensitivity of Westminster to the provinces made political footballs of local government posts. The significance of party politics in the boroughs provides further evidence of what was happening away from the capital. Michael Mullett's study, although concentrating mainly on the period prior to 1688, shows just how volatile the political atmosphere could be. Having

Introduction: Stability in Politics and Society 5 the vote was not a prerequisite for participating in political activities. Even if people were deprived of a real political voice, as in Wigan where even the freemen had little power, political activity was not impossible. Popular rioting tended to take place when principles of law and justice were offended. The Wigan riot of 1681 was part of a pattern of recurrent rioting in the town possibly because it was one of the few forms of political activity left to those without the vote (apart, that is, from costly and difficult petitions to Parliament). A riot two years later appears to have been linked with the Rye House Plot, a clear enough indication of the significance of national events. But riots were not the only form of political activity. Mullett looks at mock corporations as examples of effective political satire, often parodying cynical electioneering politicians and their unreal promises. This derision may have been encouraged by the inflated and pompous ritual of the corporations. The potential for political activism existed but it was difficult to stir unless economic conditions were adverse. After 1688 party strife in the towns almost certainly grew in intensity. Coventry was the scene of a street battle during the 1705 election campaign, while York's polite society was so divided during Anne's reign that there were two weekly assemblies, for Tories on Mondays and Whigs on Thursdays. London was a boiling political cauldron throughout the period, and even its municipal contests were regarded, like modern by-elections, as a weathervane of shifts in public opinion. Much of the turmoil was connected with the endemic controversy over civic governance, at the heart of which was the Whig-Tory split. In the wake of 1688, for example, the Whigs, fearing that the King and Parliament wished to tip the balance of power against them in London, came up with a plan for revising the City's constitution which would have ended the Court of Aldermen's control over the Common Council, and given to the electorate the final say in the choice of mayor, aldermen and sheriffs. As a result, the hierachical power of the lord mayor and aldermen would have been cut down to size, and the Common Council would have been transformed into a representative body. The proposals were rejected, and the Whigs then gradually lost interest in the reform programme; indeed their position gradually strengthened as a result of the central role they played in the 'financial revolution', and they became increasingly concerned to retain aldermanic oligarchy and privilege. It was Whigs rather than Tories who stood at the head of the Bank of England and the New East India Company, and even the Tory rival to the Bank, Robert Barley's South Sea Company, was founded in 1711 with a sizeable contingent of City Whigs. Moreover, the leading London Whigs contained a significant Dissenting element, and this permitted Dissenters to take over some of the major City offices. It may not be unconnected with this development, and with the efforts of the Tories to cast themselves in the role of protectors of the ordinary freemen, that it

6 Britain in the First Age of Party was Dissenting meeting houses which bore the brunt of popular unrest during the Sacheverell trial of 1710 and again at the Hanoverian succession. Several historians have argued that after 1688 the 'rage of party' beyond Westminster can be seen at its most virulent in elections. This was a central plank of Professor Speck's work, but the supposition has recently come under fire. The electorate was the subject of Holmes's inaugural lecture at the University of Lancaster in 1975 when he argued that the number of voters in the quarter of a century after 1688 was such as to make the electorate representative on a scale not repeated until well beyond 1832.14 Under these circumstances, since electors expected M.P.s to be accountable for their behaviour in Parliament, and since elections took place on average every eighteen months between 1694 and 1715, the voters would seem to have played a particularly powerful part in politics. But is this view of affairs correct?}. C. D. Clark and J. A. Phillips have recently argued that the painstaking analysis of poll books may be turning up conclusions which miss the point since the principal features of the electorate in the first age of party were high turnover and low turnout. Such phenomena may be less indicative of democracy than of indifference to the defence of political interests.15 Professor Speck takes the opportunity of responding to these suggestions. He argues that while party agents may well have drummed up some voters who might otherwise have avoided the polls, the issues under contention were sufficient to maintain real interest. Vote transference between elections does not point to an uninformed and uninterested electorate. Moreover, indifference would suggest that voters did as they were told but this was not usually the case. In a recent study of several urban constituencies in south-west England Dr. Triffitt has shown that voters were quite capable of participating in elections without being encouraged by a patron,16 while Professor Dickinson, in his essay for this volume, also points to the electoral independence of some of the larger boroughs. Independence was also possible because the government played relatively little part in influencing elections. Direct Court influence was limited, as is clear from the three elections of the Exclusion crisis. James II managed to increase the level of influence in the election of 1685, and sought to increase it still further prior to a projected election in 1688. This election did not take place, but there is at least some local evidence to 14

G. Holmes, The Electorate and the National Will in the First Age of Party (Lancaster, 1976); Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 1-33. 15 J. C. D. Clark, English Society, 1688-1832 (Cambridge, 1985), pp. 17-20; J. A. Phillips, Electoral Behaviour in Unreformed England: Plumpers, Splitters and Straights (Princeton, 1982), pp. 95-6. 16 J. Triffitt, 'Politics and the Urban Community: Parliamentary Boroughs in the South West of England, 1710-1730' (Oxford University, D.Phil, 1985).

Introduction: Stability in Politics and Society

1

17

question his chances of success had it come about. William Ill's ministers lost the election of 1698, and even in 1716 the promoters of the Septennial Act believed that the electorate could still sway the balance of the parties in the Commons. It was only after the Whigs had used the breathing space offered by the introduction of seven-year Parliaments to consolidate their hold on the smaller constituencies that the electorate could be left out of consideration. Once it became clear after 1722 that the electoral system no longer produced a representative Parliament the opposition gave up the unequal struggle and the number of contests rapidly declined. Finally, it was once thought that whatever latent potential there may have been for radical activity no group or groups existed to exploit it. Only a few years ago it was possible for historians to conclude that the radicalism of the period was essentially concerned with bread-andbutter issues.18 Professor Dickinson's more recent research suggests that this is an oversimplification; indeed, he is now prepared to argue that it was in the first age of party that the roots of the better known radical ideology of the post-1760 period are to be traced. A group of advanced Whig intellectuals developed a radical ideology supporting the idea of an extension of political rights to the adult male population at large. They stressed that all men possessed natural rights and that these ought to be translated into civil liberties. Such views were advanced for their time, and they were not developed into a coherent platform in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. Some Country Whigs hoped for more constitutional innovations than were achieved in 1689, and they continued to campaign for political reforms in Anne's reign and during the 1720s. Among their goals were a curb on the threat of corruption posed by royal patronage, and on the standing army. When these aims failed other means were employed to try to undercut corruption, occasionally amounting to calls for changes in the structure of parliamentary representation which would lead to the return of more independent and honest country gentlemen. Proposals included seat redistribution in some boroughs, the secret ballot — advocated as early as 1689 — and changes in the franchise aimed at preventing the oligarchy from influencing elections. Critics of the administration were interested not only in preserving civil liberties but also in extending political rights. Although radicals were able to put forward their views, they were not able to elicit much of a response. Part of the problem, as Dr. Cruikshanks points out, was the disappearance of the libertarian 17 Patricia E. Murrell, 'Bury St Edmunds and the Campaign to Pack Parliament', B.I.H.R., LVI (1981), 188-206. 18 Holmes, 'Achievement of Stability', pp. 6-7; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 255-6.

8 Britain in the First Age of Party traditions of the Whigs. Since seat redistribution would have amounted to electoral suicide for the Whigs they could hardly be expected to support parliamentary reform. By the 1740s it was even possible for a leading Whig to oppose a freeholder franchise in the boroughs without recognizing that such a proposal had first been put forward by the Earl of Shaftesbury in 1679. This change in the Whig position has often been dated from the party's triumph at the Hanoverian succession, and its subsequent reactionary measures including the Riot and Septennial Acts. Recently, however, De Krey has demonstrated within the context of London that the popular Whig principles of 1679-80 were quickly abandoned in the 1690s for the sake of domestic stability in the face of war and the 'financial revolution'.19 In these circumstances radicals had no obvious political party to which they could appeal, and nor were they able to tap a vein of mass support. This did not mean that radicalism had nowhere to go. Dickinson argues that they learnt lessons in the exploitation of the press, which were to prove useful to Wilkes and his successors. In addition, they promoted political organizations in the constituencies, and ran campaigns to rally the electorate in their favour. They mounted instruction campaigns to influence M.P.s, and they appealed to the new urban bourgeoisie for help in resisting the governing elite. As a result, the towns, particularly the larger and growing ones, became centres of popular resistance to oligarchy. And if the town audience was predominantly middle-class, there was still plenty of vocal support from the numerous crowd demonstrations which reflected corporate identity. Radicalism may have made less headway in this period than it was to achieve after 1760, but Professor Dickinson shows that there is enough evidence to suggest a groundswell of opinion against the status quo which could be exploited by a charismatic leader prepared to exploit the ideology, the platform and the organizations which had been developing since 1689. 3

If plenty of evidence can be produced to refute the idea of post-1688 party conflict being little more than stylized ritual, it does not answer the question of why this failed to produce greater tension in the community at large. Why was it possible for political turmoil and social stability to co-exist amicably between 1680 and 1750, when conflicts in the political arena might have been expected to spill over into social strife? In a paper presented to a symposium in 1979 Geoffrey Holmes tackled the question head-on. In his view population stability, the state 19

G. S. De Krcy, A Fractured Society: The Politics of London in the First Age of Party, 1688-1715 (Oxford, 1985), p. 178, 270.

Introduction: Stability in Politics and Society 9 of the economy, and the opportunities of respectable employment, together served to promote social balance, and as a result political turmoil did not spill over into social instability.20 Much of this argument is indisputable. Holmes's population figures have been refined by the conclusions of Wrigley and Schofield, but there is little disagreement that in the later seventeenth century population was stagnant, and that it only grew slowly from about 1700.21 Holmes's second point concerned the economy, and in particular the favourable conditions which served to keep protest to a minimum. Few historians now doubt that these were years of comparative agricultural plenty,22 although considerable debate has centred around the question of whether this was translated into cash in the pocket for the common man.23 Holmes's third point is one to which he has paid considerable attention, that between 1680 and 1740 exceptional conditions of social mobility favoured the gentry. Respectable employment, particularly in the professions, was, in Holmes's view, 'one of the essential elements from which the fabric of political stability was created in the years from the 1680s to the 1730s'.24 He went on to develop this particular theme in the 1979 Raleigh Lecture to the British Academy, and also in a book on the professions.25 The picture was not entirely a rosy one, and the improvement in conditions might have surprised some of the northern clergy. No doubt the clerical profession did improve in these years,26 but Professor Evans shows that many of the northern clergy were still living in miserable conditions. The problem, quite simply, was that supply outran demand. Queen Anne's Bounty scheme may have helped to improve financial conditions, but it could neither provide the necessary supplement required by so many livings, nor prevent pluralism. Only with the improved incomes of beneficed clergy during the second half of the eighteenth century did it become possible for better salaries to be 20

Holmes, 'Achievement of Stability', p. 4; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, p. 253. 21 Holmes, 'Achievement of Stability', pp. 5-6; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 253-4; E. A. Wrigley and R. S. Schofield, The Population History of England, 15401871 (1981), Table 7.8. 22 E. Kerridgc, The Agricultural Revolution (1967); Agriculture and Economic Growth in England, 1650-1815, ed. E. L. Jones (1967); The Agrarian History of England and Wales. Vol. 5, 1640-1750, ed. Joan Thirsk (2 parts, Cambridge, 1985-6). 23 J. V. Beckett, 'Regional Variation and the Agricultural Depression, 1730-50', Ec.H.R., 2nd scr., XXXV (1982), 35-51. 24 Holmes, 'Achievement of Stability, p. 17; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp 269. 25 G. Holmes, 'The Professions and Social Change in England, 1680-1730', Proceedings of the British Academy, LXV (1979), 313-54; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 309-50; idem, Augustan England: Professions, State and Society, 1680-1730 (1982). 26 Holmes, Augustan England, chapter 4.

10 Britain in the First Age of Party paid and better clerical residences to be built, but the northern clergy were still unable to catch up with their southern counterparts. However, poverty did not bring contempt. From the evidence available it appears that the clergy did a relatively good job, occasionally falling foul of their parishioners over issues such as tithing of 'new' crops, among them hemp, flax and potatoes. A few clergy misbehaved, but the evidence does not suggest that this was widespread, rather it points to a relatively conscientious profession, innocent of some of the more lurid charges of cynicism, political subordination and dereliction of duty. One of the crucial points of Holmes's argument regarding social stability was that the expansion of the professions by definition also affected town growth: 'the early eighteenth-century provincial town had, in fact, become a social welder of exceptional importance',27 helping to produce the social stability without which political stability could not have been guaranteed. It was in places such as York that the divisions in polite society brought about by the political traumas of Queen Anne's reign were carefully reconstructed in the aftermath of the Hanoverian succession. This line of argument is intriguing, but it remains to be tested. The likelihood is that the expanding urban bourgeoisie of this period threw up men who developed an interest in improving town facilities and in pursuing culture, status and power. This is what Dickinson refers to as the 'ethic of civic virtue', and what it meant in practice is clear from Peter Borsay's essay. Urban England was expanding just at the point when the overall population was growing relatively slowly. London, not surprisingly, grew most spectacularly, but it was not alone. Manchester, Liverpool and Birmingham all enjoyed considerable growth. Even more significant however was the prosperity of the towns, fuelled by the growth of local trade (and some of it not so local given the demands on the economy of London), which was in turn aided by improved communications. Towns in this period also benefited from improvements in manufacturing, as well as from their administrative functions. Above all, perhaps, and of most significance for the independence of the electorate, rising demand for goods increased the range of small craft and retail businesses - and with it the number of town-based petit bourgeois - while the growing numbers of lawyers and medical practitioners supplemented the professional groups. In these circumstances more and more of the social elite chose urban to rural life, hence the growth - clear in the pages of Daniel Defoe's writings - of a town-based 'gentry' incorporating both landowners escaping rural boredom and the urban bourgeoisie. 27

273.

Holmes, 'Achievement of Stability', p. 21; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, p.

Introduction: Stability in Politics and Society 11 The new clientele may have been primarily interested in culture, but they represented a positive social challenge to the existing elite which was always likely to spill over into political dissension, even in the quieter political waters beyond 1722. Professor Horwitz shows how the alliance of London's Whig aldermen with central government aroused popular demands for a more democratic system of local government. London was not alone. In a number of other large boroughs the rich local oligarchy came under fire from independent oppositions unwilling to accept the comfortable complacency of the existing corporations. Dickinson points out that among the boroughs affected in this way were Coventry, Exeter, Bristol, Leicester and Nottingham. Perhaps the most significant point is that in the 1720s and beyond these people were primarily interested in cleaning up local government rather than in trying to influence parliamentary elections. 4

The second major question left open since 1967 concerns what happened to the political struggle after 1714. In 1967 Plumb argued that the preconditions for political stability already existed in Anne's reign - 'in 1714 the materials for oligarchy everywhere abounded' - but since neither party was able to harness them there was no reason to believe that stability was just around the corner. However the ending of party warfare, the passing of the Septennial Act, and the ability of Sir Robert Walpole - a man who had served his political apprenticeship during Anne's reign and had learnt his lessons well - to exploit the conditions, collectively brought about political stability by 1725. By 1733, in Plumb's words:28 the two-party system was at an end . . . The evolution of political stability had gone hand in hand not only with the diminution and close control of the electorate and a more thorough exploitation of patronage, but also with the evolution of single-party government and the proscription of a political opposition.

Crucial to this process according to Plumb, was the decline of the Tory party, as a result of which political strife came to an end and Walpole was able to exploit the 'materials for oligarchy'. This view of events came to be widely accepted. Holmes argued in 1969 that the Tory party committed suicide in 1714-16 leaving 'no hope of recovery'.^ In books published in 1977 Speck and Dickinson both wrote of the Court-Country division in politics after 1714. Speck's view was that both Whig and Tory parties had a Court and a Country wTing 28

Plumb, Growth of Political Stability, pp. 160, 173. G. Holmes, 'Harley, St. John and the Death of the Tory Party', Britain after the Glorious Revolution, ed. G. Holmes, p. 235; Holmes, Politic, Religion and Society, p. 158. 29

12 Britain in the First Age of Party down to 1714, but thereafter the Tories lost their Court wing, and became in effect an opposition or Country party. In the years down to 1760, as a result, Country and Court replaced Whig and Tory as the dominant divisions. Dickinson's view was that Court ideology became the all-embracing political ideal, based on the rule of law and the importance of power being exercised by the men of property in a mixed government with legislative sovereignly.30 Glassey provides some support for Dickinson's position by pointing out that central government discipline slowly relaxed in the 1720s and 1730s, but the links between local government and Westminster were maintained by agencies such as the customs and the post office. Party divisions might no longer dictate membership of the commission of the peace, but central oversight remained. Such views did not convince everyone. The History of Parliament volumes for 1715-54, which had appeared in 1970, contained considerable evidence for the existence of the Whig and Tory parties down to the 1750s. Moreover in 1976 B. W. Hill published a book with the deliberately provocative title The Growth of Parliamentary Parties, 1689-1742. Hill's view was that 'the influence of the Namicrian interpretation still results in the placing of too little emphasis on the importance of party history down to the fall of Walpole in 1742'.31 It was the position of the Tories, in particular, which came under scrutiny, largely in the work of Eveline Cruickshanks and Linda Colley. Despite their differences over the nature of Toryism in the age of Walpole- and in particular over its links with Jacobitism — they have effectively rehabilitated the Tory party during the first half of the eighteenth century in such a way as to suggest that party continued to be a reality in political life.32 What sort of a reality is more of a problem, since an active Tory party would suggest that party strife was not dead and that one of the central planks of the stability thesis was therefore flawed. Professor Dickinson, as he makes clear in his essay below, now accepts that the Tory party survived as a political structure into the Hanoverian period, although he is still prepared to argue that the ideological debate under George I and George II took place along Court-Country lines. Professor Speck also accepts that the Tory party survived beyond 1714, but he points out that defeat in the 1722 election condemned the Tories to permanent opposition. The result was a very different creature from its predecessor, a sleeping Country party rather than the active high church party of Queen Anne's day. In such circumstances the first age of party must be deemed to have been over. Moreover, Dr. Downie's conclusion 30

W. A. Speck, Stability and Strife: England, 1714-1760 (1977); H. T. Dickinson, Liberty and Property: Political Ideology in Eighteenth-dentury Britain (1977). 31 Hill, Growth ojParliamentary Parties, p. 9. 32

Eveline Cruickshanks, Political Untouchables: The Tories and the '45(1979); Colley, In Defiance of Oligarchy.

Introduction: Stability in Politics and Society

13

that the language of the press suggests political stability had been achieved in the years after 1715 adds weight to this conclusion. Dr. Cruickshanks would not dispute such conclusions. With Professors Dickinson and Speck she accepts that there was a discrepancy between parliamentary stability and political instability brought about by the Tory exclusion from the centre of politics. The survival of the party did not mean it had much political clout; indeed, as a result of the Septennial Act 'one-party governments monopolised the sweets of office for the Whigs for nearly half a century'.33 This did not prevent the Tories from maintaining a sophisticated party organization, although whether they really saw themselves as a viable alternative administration is more debatable. Dr. Colley has argued that the Tories became mainly proHanoverian, and had reasonable hopes of office under George I and George II, but this is not a view accepted by Dr. Cruickshanks. The Tories remained, she suggests, predominantly committed to a Stuart restoration, a position from which they were not discouraged by any obvious desire on the part of the first two Georges to take them into the administration. This version of events with its emphasis on the distinction between the activities of political parties and the reality of parliamentary stability along Court-Country lines will not please everyone, since the hunt for post-1714 party activity has been intense in recent years. Dr. Cruickshanks believes that the failure of the '45 ultimately broke the old Tory party, although its remnants staggered on into the reign of George III. In a recent book J. C. D. Clark questioned the reliance placed by historians on J. B. Owen's Namierite interpretation of the 1740s and 1750s, and claimed instead to have found the real demise of party in the Newcastle/Pitt manoeuvres of 1754-7. By 1761, as a result, the old party polarities no longer existed. 34 Linda Colley, by contrast, has found Tories still surviving in the 1760s," but even her tentative analysis has now been upstaged. B. W. Hill and Frank O'Gorman have carried the account through the eighteenth and into the nineteenth century.36 Even the first age of the party begins to look shaky as historians re-work the old Whig territory in the search for traces of party continuity down to the more clear-cut divisions of the nineteenth century. Yet some of the difficulties involved in seeking a neat Whig-Tory or Court-Country explanation of post-1714 politics become clear in other essays in this book. Clyve Jones's analysis of the House of Lords, for example, contains a number of pointers towards the problems involved. 33

See below p. 36. J. C. D. Clark, The Dynamics of Change: The Crisis of the 1750s and English Party Systems (Cambridge, 1982). 35 Colley, In Defiance of Oligarchy. 36 B. W. Hill, British 'Parliamentary Parties, 1742-1832 (1985); F. O'Gorman, The Emergence of the British Two-Party System, 1760-1832 (1982). 34

14 Britain in the First Age of Party His essay draws our attention away from the heated disputes at the polls to the calm serenity of the upper House. For most Englishmen this was not merely the senior House but also the more important of the two. The peers were prominent in the settlement of 1689, and during Anne's reign the party conflicts had much the same vigour as those in the Commons. After 1715 the position changed. The demise of the Tories and the strengthening of the Whigs encouraged the ministers to seek a secure majority in the upper House in order to protect their position in the Commons. Walpole achieved this through a combination of the Scottish peers, Crown servants (by no means all early eighteenth-century peers were financially independent), and the bishops. The large ministerial majority he thereby enjoyed in the Lords could be successfully opposed only when the Tory rump was augmented by significant numbers of discontented Whigs, as in 1733 over the Excise scheme and more seriously over the Quakers Tithe bill in 1736. The Tories continued to employ spoiling tactics throughout Walpole's years in office, by persuading their supporters to turn out and to vote en bloc, and by appealing to an audience beyond the confines of Westminster via protests entered in the Journals of the House. Such tactics had their uses, but they could not upset the political balance. There were always Tory peers in the Lords, and the political conflict may still have been viewed in WhigTory terms, but the Tories had no real chance of power, and the party emphasis was much weaker than earlier. Just beyond the cloistered atmosphere of the Lords, however, the terminology of Whig and Tory was certainly not destroyed in the aftermath of Queen Anne's death. The Whig dominance of the City of London continued after 1715, but it was by no means assured, and in 1725 legislation was passed with the intention of settling civic disputes partly by weakening the City Tories, and partly by strengthening the ministers' Whig friends on the corporation. Opponents of the status quo soon began to call for a repeal of the 1725 City Elections Act, and from 1733 the citizens of London played a prominent part in opposition to Walpole. Common Council, with a Tory majority, issued instructions to M.P. s through manifestoes which were disseminated via the press to a much wider audience. Ironically some of the earlier radical Whig proposals for reform were taken up by the Tories, an interesting extension of the flexibility of political principle noted by Dr. Cruickshanks. If Whig and Tory were still terms of significance in London they meant much less on the Celtic fringes. Any attempt to examine British politics and society between the late seventeenth and the middle of the eighteenth centuries must take some account of Scotland and Ireland, since, after all, both came to represent a lingering back-door threat to post-Revolution England by harbouring Jacobite opponents of the regime. For the most part, however, the Westminster government

Introduction: Stability in Politics and Society

15

preferred to regard the two nations with imperial disdain, as useful appendages to the English economy, or, in the case of the Scottish peers and M.P.s, as pliant political supporters of the ministry. A reasonable level of good government was thought to be necessary, but the mere presence of the two nations always allowed Englishmen to take pride in their own civilization, by contrast with the Jacobite hordes in Scotland and the superstitious barbarians across the Irish Sea. Scotland is perhaps the best example of English imperialism at work, symbolized by the Union of 1707, which can be seen as a response to the implicitly politicalcum-diplomatic threat of an independent Scotland. Whether or not the Union was to be one of nominal equality, English domination was always likely, and the servility of the Scottish M.P.s and representative peers after 1707 both strengthened the ministry and added to English contempt. The Union was a necessity in English eyes, largely because of events in and beyond 1689 which led not only to the Scottish Parliament becoming unmanageable, but also to questions being raised about the necessity of maintaining the Union of the Crowns. Once Union was achieved, Parliament quietly adjusted the terms of the agreement. In 1711, for example, the Scottish linen industry was deprived of its protective tariffs, and although it now seems that Scotland did eventually reap economic benefits from the Union, this was despite, not because of, their representation at Westminster. For the most part, however, Scottish issues rarely troubled Parliament, and indifference led to complacency as the ministry became painfully aware in 1745. Because all government opponents were excluded from any form of power and representation, Jacobitism became the only real means of opposition to the regime. No one in distant London appeared to recognize this, hence the lack of contingency planning for the events of 1745, but the hard-core minority could not hope to challenge big brother; the rebellion was ruthlessly put down, and the imperialist position thereby protected. The situation was not significantly different in Ireland, which unlike Scotland was throughout regarded as a semi-dependency. The Irish executive was appointed in London and the independent powers of the Irish Parliament were sharply restricted by Poynings' Law. Such a situation enabled the executive in London to expect peace and quiet across St. George's Channel, and to interest themselves in Irish affairs only when events appeared to be having a significant impact on English domestic politics. Moreover, this position was strengthened by William Ill's successful campaign in Ireland between 1689 and 1692, after which the English - Crown, ministers and Parliament - were prepared to accept the destruction of the Catholic landed interest in Ireland as a political force, even though as a result they were bound even more tightly to the victorious Protestant interest. The 'Anglo-Irish' Protestant squirearchy upon whom they were forced to rely for the government of Ireland did

16 Britain in the First Age of Party not prove entirely docile. Indeed the years c. 1697-1704 saw tensions stretched to the limit when the English Parliament insisted on enforcing the subordination of Irish institutions to its own authority. But the Anglo-Irish Ascendancy was still sufficiently dependent in its turn on English military backing to ensure a fundamental stability throughout the period, punctuated only by occasional outbursts as in 1713-14 when Sir Constantine Phipps, the Tory Lord Chancellor of Ireland, appeared to be showing undue favour towards Catholics; or in the 1720s over the affair of Wood's Halfpence. Short of a foreign invasion, which after 1691 the Jacobite Court did not seriously contemplate, the alliance of Protestant landlord and English garrison remained in control. Catholic disaffection was confined to bardic lamentation and occasional agrarian violence, and in 1745 the Irish stayed at home. The rising in integrated Scotland and the non-appearance of the Irish in 1745 explain a good deal about the differing fortunes of John Bull's other kingdoms. The Scots had been fully integrated and either tamed, or forced, as some were, into outright rebellion. By contrast the AngloIrish had maintained a measure of independence and a Parliament of their own, which, if its powers were restricted, at least offered an opportunity of expressing patriotic sentiments and formulating opposition, albeit loyal opposition. As such the Irish were to some extent indulged by English ministers. Since the English Tories, saddled as they were with the taint ofjacobitism, also failed to turn out in 1745, insurgence was left to the Scots, ironically the nation whose representatives at Westminster had proved most servile to the administration even in Anne's reign. The politics of Whig and Tory had never meant much to them. If the virulence of the party struggle in England failed to bring about social instability, the Scots took up arms without ever feeling the political heat. 5

With what are we left twenty years on from the watershed year of 1967? Was political stability achieved with the Glorious Revolution as the older interpretations would have us believe, or was it a feature of the years after 1714? And if the latter, why did the political divisions of Anne's reign not produce instability in the country at large? First, it seems clear that from 1689, and particularly between 1701 and 1715, the nation was torn by party strife. Far from being phoney controversies waged within the governing group, the feuds of Anne's reign were fought out across the nation. They were to be seen in the press, in the vulnerability of local government to party manipulation, in the volatility of urban politics - particularly in London but also elsewhere - and in the actions of the electorate. However, these disputes did not spill over into special upheaval. Just why this was so remains to be fully tested. Favourable economic conditions, and employment for the

Introduction: Stability in Politics and Society 17 gentry, may be part of the answer, while the development of a genteel urban culture may be another part, but this is probably not the whole answer. It may simply be that the lessons of the seventeenth century had been learned, and however real the political struggle no one was prepared to see a repeat of the Exclusion crisis let alone of the damaging struggles which had disfigured the 1640s. Second, the rather stark view of the fate of party after 1714 has been tempered. Following Plumb's lead, historians of the period came to the conclusion that the ending of the party conflicts was vital for the emergence of political stability, and they tended therefore to assume that since stability was achieved party conflict must have evaporated. Confronted as they have been in recent years with the abundant evidence of Whig and Tory conflicts after 1714, in both Houses of Parliament and in the politics of the capital, those who took this view of affairs have shifted their ground. It is now widely agreed that the terms did continue to have meaning after 1714, but that a distinction needs to be drawn between their parliamentary and their political relevance. The demise of the Tories, in both Houses, meant that party labels were of only limited significance in parliamentary affairs, but this did not prevent the continuance of party feeling beyond Westminster, as was the case in London. However, party conflict lost much of the potency it had carried in Anne's reign, as is clear, for example, from the evidence of the press. Within Parliament after 1715 the dominant political modes were once again Court and Country, and stability was gradually restored in both Houses. This did not mean that opposition came to an end. The muchmaligned Tory party continued to have an existence at least into the 1740s, and just occasionally it was still capable of mounting effective disruption, particularly in the Lords. Resistance to the growth of oligarchy was also apparent beyond Westminster in the expanding Hanoverian towns. It was expressed through petitioning and instruction campaigns to dictate the terms of conduct of M.P.s, and via resistance to local corporations who represented the interests of the richer inhabitants. This was true not merely of London, which is well documented,37 but also of various provincial centres. Active opposition to the regime, however, stayed within bounds. When violence was eventually entertained in 1745 it came from Scotland - and the English Tories stayed at home. The political and social stability of Britain in the first age of party is now more securely located. Politically the divisions of Whig and Tory were all too apparent down to 1715, and their demise thereafter reflected the inability of the Tories to mount an effective and sustained opposition campaign, not the collapse of the party. However, parliamentary stability was attained without the necessity of a corresponding political stability. 37

De Krey, A Fractured Society.

18 Britain in the First Age of Party Economic and social conditions were such as to minimize the danger of party-strife being translated into social dislocation. Of course all the questions have not been answered nor the contended issues resolved. Some of Professor Evans's comments on the northern clergy, for example, suggest the need to think again about the power of the pulpit in early eighteenth-century political propaganda, and there is still work to be done on the relationship between economic and political conditions during the period. Hopefully this book will help to clear the air on some of the major issues while adding to our overall knowledge of the period.

2

Religion and Royal Succession - The Rage of Party Eveline Cruickshanks

Party is a mixture of principles, derived from a certain interpretation of history and a specific religious upbringing, allied to a human reluctance to desert friends. It was a political imperative from which only professional placemen, men such as James Brydges, 1st Duke of Chandos, were immune, men who preferred 'the rising sun before God, country, friend and .everything'. Much excellent work has been done on party configurations in the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. It is the intention here to concentrate rather on the religious origins of party conflicts, on the question of the succession to the Crown, which turned on the religion of the monarch, and to reexamine the growth of political stability in the light of them. 2

The Restoration of 1660 was greeted with much public joy and relief at a return to legitimacy and episcopacy. The Church of England, the national church and the mainstay of support for the Stuarts, was given a monopoly of office. While the relegation of Independents, Quakers and Baptists, who had been and often remained hostile to the restored monarchy, was understandable, more unjust, was the leaving out of Roman Catholics, who had been the most active of all the Cavaliers in support of the King, and of the Presbyterians, who had been instrumental in bringing about the Restoration. Indeed Charles II was subsequently blamed for ingratitude towards the Presbyterians. It was not that he would not but that he could not obtain genuine religious toleration, even while he was supported by his ministry, the Cabal, over the Declaration of Indulgence of 1672, which had to be withdrawn and led to the passing of the Test Act by Parliament in 1673. Thereafter, some sections of the opposition showed hostility not against the Crown but against 'priestcraft', both among Deists such as the 2nd Duke of Buckingham and Dissenters such as Andrew Marvell.3 The conversion of Charles II's brother, the Duke of York, to Roman 1 H. Horwitz, Parliament, Policy and Politics in the Reign of William III (Manchester, 1977), p. 288. 2 Cobbett, Par/. Hist., VI, 565. 3 Mark Goldie, The Tory Ideology: Politics, Religion and Ideas in Restoration England (Cambridge, forthcoming).

20 Britain in the First Age of Party Catholicism and the revelations and underlying suspicions about the treaty of Dover with Louis XIV, were followed by the Popish Plot, which unleashed the anti-Popery which had been so much part of English culture since the Tudors. Protestant fears of being murdered in their beds by Papists were easy to understand in Ireland, where the Protestant community was surrounded by a hostile Catholic majority. The reverse was true in England, where even Bishop Burnet recognized that Catholics formed only a small minority 4 and were distinguished by their loyalty to the Stuart line. One of the perennial fears underlying anti-popery was that in the event of a Catholic restoration, monastic lands might have to be given back. At the height of the Exclusion crisis, Thomas Freke, Shaftesbury's right-hand man in Dorset, Thomas Strangways and Francis Luttrell, three of the largest holders of abbey lands in the kingdom, were described as 'full of consternation and fear, and sit constantly a-drinking when they meet, and then a-talking against Popery'. 3 This fear was latent throughout the period, for William Fleetwood, the Whig Bishop of St. Asaph, thought that if the Pretender came in on the death of Queen Anne, the fires of Smithfield would rekindle and the abbey lands would have returned. 6 In the reign of George II a section of the Tories suggested that 'James IIP should ask the Pope to renounce any claim to church lands as a means of aiding the Stuart cause. In 1678-9 the mysterious circumstances of Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey's death, as well as the foolishness of Edward Coleman, the Duke of York's secretary, seemed to lend credence to the fabrications of Titus Oates and the Papists were widely credited with having been responsible for the Great Fire of London and for plans to murder the King.8 Anti-Catholic hysteria coincided with a resurgence in the power and influence of Protestant Dissenters, who had crept back into many boroughs, because after 1663 there were no commissioners to enforce the Corporation Act. Drawing on Whig support, much of it from areas with large concentrations of Dissenters, the 1st Earl of Shaftesbury was astonishingly successful in keeping up electoral ferment by means of the Green Ribbon Club, Pope-burnings, the presentation of the Duke of York as a recusant, the organisation of petitions for a new Parliament and, above all, by exploiting the Popish Plot to the utmost. At the two elections held in 1679 and that of 1681 4

G. Burnet, A History of His Own Time (6 vols., Oxford, 1833), III, 216. The House of Commons, 1660-1690, ed. B. D. Henning (3 vols., 1982) [hereafter cited as HP 1660-90],'II, 366. 6 J. P. Kenyon, Revolution Principles: The Politics of Party, 1689-1720 (Cambridge, 1977), p. 164. 7 See Eveline Cruickshanks, 'Lord Cornbury, Bolingbroke and a Plan to Restore the Stuarts, 1730-34', Royal Stuart Papers, XXVII (1986). 8 SeeJ. P. Kenyon, The Popish Plot (1972). 5

Religion and Royal Succession 21 the Whigs scored brilliant successes in the boroughs, in London especially because of the large number of Dissenters there. When the judges at the Old Bailey objected to the inclusion of 'fanatics' on the grand jury to try Shaftesbury, the reply was that if frequenting conventicles was a disqualification 'there would not be a grand jury found in London'.9 Though some Tories disbelieved in the Popish Plot, it was unsafe to say so. For instance, Sir Robert Cann, 1st Bt., M.P., was threatened with expulsion from the House of Commons and with being sent to the Tower for casting doubts on the plot, after which he told the Speaker 'I ever did, and ever shall believe this to be a Popish Plot, as sure as you are in the chair'. 10 One of the most odd features of the episode is that from December 1678 to December 1679 leading Whigs and Exclusionists, such as the Duke of Buckingham, Algernon Sydney, Sir Edward Harley and William Sacheverell were taking bribes from Louis XIV from the hands of Coleman, to bring about the downfall of the Earl of Danby, whose pro-Dutch and anti-French policies had angered Louis!11 The Tories, who opposed the exclusion of the Duke of York from the throne as a breach of the hereditary succession, did fairly well in the county seats in all three Exclusion Parliaments, a sign of widespread support in the country. This produced better organised tactics, in response to Whig electoral pressures. A 'Loyal Club', to which Danby's sons Edward Osborne, Viscount Latimer, and Peregrine Osborne, Viscount Dunblane, belonged was formed to defend the Crown and government. 12 Sir Edward Seymour, 4th Bt. had declared 'my family were instrumental in the Reformation and not any has been pointed out for Popery', but he opposed Exclusion, proposing 'expedients' to limit James's powers instead.13 The defeat of Exclusion in the Lords in 1680 and the dissolution of the 1681 Parliament was followed by a remodelling of the charters of corporations and of the commissions of the peace in the Tory interest. 1 The result was that James II ascended the throne with the approval of the Tory majority of the political nation, which had been strengthened by the reaction to the Exclusion crisis, and this despite the King's avowed Roman Catholicism. On the other hand, the Monmouth rebellion drew an astonishing amount of support among the Whigs on a popular level, from the Dissenters in the west country 9

HP \66Q-90, II, 123, 238; III, 203-4, 246; K. H. D. Haley, The First Earl of Shaftesbury (Oxford, 1968), chapters 5-7. 10 HP 1660-90, II, 6. 11 Sir John Dalrymple, Memoirs of Great Britain (3 vols., 1740), I, Appendix to chapter 4, pp. 382-6. *2 HP 1660-90, m, 183-4. 13 Ibid., p. 414. 14 J. Miller, 'The Crown and the Borough Charters in the Reign of Charles II', E.H.R., C (1983), 70-84.

22

Britain in the First Age of Party

especially. The rebels included John Manley, M.P. 1659 and 1689, and Daniel Defoe, but the great Dissenting Whig families, such as the Hampdens and the Whartons, took no part. Monouth delcared James a tyrant and a Popish usurper and his Declaration promised toleration for Protestant Dissenters, the restoration of borough charters and annual Parliaments. At Sedgemoor, the insurgents outnumbered the royal army, but the latter stood fast to James.15 It was this numerical inferiority which almost certainly led James to increase his army, with dire consequences on public opinion. At this stage, however, Tory support was shown by their overwhelming victory at the 1685 election, when they did excellently in counties as well as in some large boroughs, as in smaller remodelled boroughs. James II and, after him, his son 'James III' were the precursors of Enlightened European rulers, who believed in genuine religious toleration for all their subjects. Louis XIV's revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685 was an event which ultimately did James great harm. Not that the King approved of it, for he condemned what Louis had done as being neither Christian nor sound politics, and he was generous to the Huguenots who escaped, allowing them to establish a church in Soho Fields. One of his first actions on coming to the throne was to release all persons imprisoned for their religious beliefs, including about 1200 Quakers. He sought also relief for his fellow-religionists, telling the Spanish ambassador that they should be 'no worse treated than the rest instead of being deprived of their liberties like traitors'. 16 On both scores, the King came in direct conflict with his Tory natural supporters, who regarded the Huguenots, no less than the Palantines later as 'the scum of all Europe'. Roger North M.P., who opposed the employment of Dissenters and Roman Catholics, declared his resolve to join with 'the Church of England party to maintain the laws and religion established', while being 'tooth and nail for the King' and voting the revenue for life for him. From 1686 on, James's insistence on religious toleration caused consternation among his Tory supporters. He was tactless, an old man in a hurry, but no amount of prudence or patience would have persuaded the Anglicans to cede their monopoly of office in church and state and, as one historian has remarked, the word 'privilege' was never far behind the word 'liberty'.18 James, on the other hand, had considerable success with the 15

D. Chandler, Sedgemoor, 1685(1985), chapter 1. M. Ashley, 'King James II and the Revolution of 1688: Some Reflections on the Historiography', Historical Essays presented to David Ogg, ed. H. E. Bell and R. L. Ollard (1963), pp. 185-202. 17 HP 1660-90, III, 155-6; H. T. Dickinson, 'The Poor Palatines and the Parties', E.H.R., LXXXII (1967), 464-85. 18 A. Mclnnes, 'The Revolution and the People', Britain after the Glorious Revolution, 1689-1714, ed. G. Holmes (1969), p. 82. 16

Religion and Royal Succession

23

Whigs and the work of the History of Parliament has shown that, outside London, many Dissenters, who were introduced in remodelled corporations co-operated enthusiastically with his policies. 'Whig collaborator' is probably too emotive a term in this context, for there was nothing morally reprehensible in wishing for religious toleration or the for the repeal of the Test Act. At Lyme Regis, a former stronghold of Monmouth's, for instance, John Burridge, a Dissenter (who became a Whig M.P. in 1689) carried the town in voting an address in favour of James's Declaration of Indulgence in 1687 and pledging support for choosing 'right men' for the proposed new Parliament.1 Similarly, a Lancashire nonconformist wrote at this time that King James had:20 put out a proclamation for liberty of conscience to all Protestant dissenters, and also to papists to the free and open exercise of their religion. Which was graciously accepted by all dissenting protestants, who had been great sufferers in his brother's reign, and many [who] had been long prisoners were released. But this very much affronted the bishops and the clergy.

When closeted by the King or asked by his agents to assent to the repeal of the Test Act and penal laws, the great majority of the Tory nobility and gentry either absented themselves or gave negative replies. Some great Anglican noblemen, such as the Earl of Bath or the Duke of Beaufort, continued to carry out the King's orders, but the majority of royal regulators were men of inferior social status.21 The birth of the Prince of Wales on 10 June 1688, an event witnessed by most of the Court, was greeted with loyal addresses from many parts of the country. It seemed to put an end to hopes of James's daughter, the Princess of Orange, succeeding him as a Protestant. The trial of the Seven Bishops for refusing to read the Declaration of Indulgence and an attempt to force the University of Oxford to accept Roman Catholics further inflamed Anglican opinion. The high Tories under Rochester and Clarendon, however, had no thought of deposing James, but sought instead to persuade him to back-track. They succeeded in doing so, for by James's Declaration of September 1688 all corporations were restored to their pre-1679 state. Admittedly, this was in response, not only to Tory pressure, but to preparations for a Dutch invasion, which had begun even before the birth of the Prince of Wales and had accelerated since. 19 HP 1660-90, I, 217; see also J. Miller, Popery and Politics in England, 1660-1688 (Cambridge, 1973), chapter 4; James II: A Study in Kingship (Hove, 1978), pp. 241-2; idem, 'The Potential for Absolutism in Later Stuart England', History, LXIX (1984), 187207; J. R. Jones, 'James II's Whig Collaborators', Historical Journal, III (1960), 65-73. 20 The Autobiography of William Stout, ed. J. D. Marshall (Chetham Soc., 3rd ser., XIV, 1967), p. 91. 21 Sir George Duckett, Penal Laws and Test Act (2 vols., 1882-3).

24

Britain in the First Age of Party Whig malcontents in exile had been congregating round William of Orange after the Rye House Plot of 1683 and the Monmouth rebellion but, although he took a number of them over to England with him, he appears to have had little regard for them. His coming over with the pick of his army was in answer to the invitation issued on 30th June 1688 by Lords Shrewsbury, Devonshire, Danby and Lumley, Bishop Compton, Edward Russell and Henry Sydney, all Whigs except Danby and Compton. The Dutch landing at Torbay gave Danby and Devonshire, as well as Lord Delamer, the opportunity of rallying support for William in the North and Midlands. The determination of some, such as the York militia or the garrison of Chester under Peter Shakerley, to stand by King James collapsed before a wave of wild rumours, probably deliberately fomented, that Irish troops were coming to murder all Protestants and that they had burnt down Birmingham and Wolverhampton. 22 In the West, after a while, William was joined not only by great Whigs such as Thomas Wharton, but by Lord Bath, Sir Edward Seymour and many Tory squires, while a substantial section of the army under John, Baron Churchill defected to him. James, apparently fearing the fate of his father, fled the country. Numerous and influential sections of English society, both Whigs and Tories, had joined William, but they did so from different motives. In a speech of surprising frankness, made at the time of Dr. Sacheverell's trial in 1710, Danby, then Duke of Leeds, declared:23 he had a great share in the late Revolution, but said, he never thought that things would have gone so far as to settle the Crown on the Prince of Orange, whom he had so often heard say, that he had no such thoughts himself. That they ought to distinguish between Resistance and Revolution; for Vacancy and Abdication was the thing they went upon and therefore Resistance was to be forgot; for had it not succeeded, it had certainly been rebellion, since he knew of no other but hereditary right.

Similarly, Danby's son Peregrine, later 2nd Duke of Leeds, who had been active in bringing messages between the 'Immortal Seven' and William before 1688, wrote 'I can take God to witness that I had not thought when I engaged in it (and I am sure my father neither) that the Prince of Orange's landing would end in deposing the King'.24 William's Declaration, which was widely distributed after the landing, specifically disclaimed any design on the Crown and this presumably explains why so many of the west country Tories who had joined 22

A. Browning, Thomas Osborne, Earl of Danby (3 vols., Glasgow, 1951), I, 396-401; Shakerley MSS. (belonging to Canon Ian Dunlop): Sir Richard Myddelton to John Hopson, 15 Dec. 1688; G. H. Jones, 'The Irish Fright of 1688: Real Violence and Imagined Massacre', B.I.H.R., LV (1982), 148-53; D. H. Hosford, Nottingham, Nobles and the North (Hamden, Conn., 1976), pp. 109-10, 118. 23 Cobbett, Pad. Hist., VI, 847. 24 HP 1660-90, III, 185.

Religion and Royal Succession

25

William, voted against the transfer of the Crown. A typical case was William Gary, M.P. Okehampton, son of the Dean of Exeter, who joined William, but voted against the vacancy to the throne and refused to take the Association in 1696.25 What they seemed to have wanted was some sort of'expedients' to protect the Church of England from James's dispensing power. William, on the other hand, was a Dutch patriot, who was interested in Britain from the point of view of bringing its power into the war against Louis XIV, but neither cared about nor fully understood the complexities of English politics. Most Tories disliked William's Calvinism and his latitudinarian religious views and could not reconcile themselves to an irrevocable breach in the hereditary succession. The Whig contractarian doctrine was deeply repulsive to them. For instance, the views of Sir John Poley, a Tory M.P., were that:26 here is an affair of the greatest weight before us, both as we are Christians and Englishmen, no less than the deposing of a King, whom we have sworn allegiance to ... I move that this debate be adjourned till the original contract be produced and laid upon the table for the Members to peruse, that we may see whether his Majesty broke it or no.

Similarly, Sir John Chicheley, a very experienced Tory politician, who accepted a place on the Admiralty Board from William, voted against the abdication because:27 Nothing will satisfy some but placing the Crown on the Prince, which will be a precedent for placing it on another whenever the Lords and Commons please, and so consequently make this kingdom, which has never been elective, into a Commonwealth, if they please, which God forbid. I am sure for my own part, it's the last government I should choose to live under, but when necessity may force a man, that one must submit to.

When moves for a regency and Danby's proposal to place the Crown on Mary alone as the next heir had both failed, most Tories recognized William as King de facto but not de jure. Eight bishops, including the Archbishop of Canterbury, four of whom had been among the Seven Bishops, refused to take the oaths to William and were displaced, following about 400 clergymen. The Revolution came as a shock to the 5 Tories because it was 'an abrupt reversal of every trend in Anglican Sec Eveline Cruickshanks, D. Hayton and C. Jones, 'Divisions in the House of Lords on the Transfer of the Crown and Other Issues, 1689-94: Ten New Lists', B.I.H.R., LIII (1980), 56-8, and Eveline Cruickshanks, J. Ferris and D. Hayton, The House of Commons Vote on the Transfer of the Crown, 5 February 1689', ibid., LII (1979), 41-7. 26 HP 1660-90, III, 258. 27 Ibid., II, 53.

26 Britain in the First Age of Party thinking since 1660'. The great paradox, on the other hand, is that not only the great Whigs who had had no truck with James's policies, but the Whig collaborators also, welcomed William as King with no reservations and with enthusiasm. There were some exceptions - men such as Edward Harvey of Combe, an Exclusionist who became a Jacobite Tory, or Edward Nosworthy, a leading Whig collaborator who became a Jacobite agent, but they were few. However unpopular William soon became, because of the open preference he showed to his Dutch compatriots and the rapacity of his Dutch favourites, to the Whigs he remained 'the great deliverer', a Prince 'of ever glorious memory'. Samuel Travers, M.P., left a substantial sum of money to erect a statue in the City of London to 'the glorious memory of my master King William III'. Unfortunately for him the Common Council and the Common Hall of London had turned Tory and they prevented the statue from ever being erected within the City precincts. Indeed in London 'the people in polities' had become the Tory party. 30 The 1689 election, in which William did not intervene, was held in unusual circumstances as the writs were sent to the coroners, naturally enough, rather than to sheriffs appointed by Judge Jeffreys! There were fewer contests than normal and most of the returns were not signed by members of corporations and freemen, as was the usual practice. Some were not even signed by the returning officer. It produced a Whig majority, which reinforced William's initial overestimate of the strength of the Whigs.31 The offer of the Crown made by this Parliament was not conditional upon but went hand-in-hand with the Bill of Rights. This stressed the legislative supremacy of Parliament; the need for frequent Parliaments; the necessity of the consent of Parliament to suspend statutes and lay taxes; and its consent to maintaining an army in peace-time.32 In practice, the most effective provision of the Bill of Rights, as of the Act of Settlement later, was to bar Roman Catholics from succession to the Crown.33 The Whigs headed by Somers had been mainly responsible for the Bill of Rights, but the Tories, Seymour especially, did not defend William's 28

G. V. Bennett, 'King William III and the Episcopate', Essays in Modem Church History, ed. G. V. Bennett and J. D. Walsh (1966), pp. 105-7; J. R. Porter, 'The Nonjuring Bishops', Royal Stuart Papers, IV (1973); Kenyon, Revolution Principles, pp. 9-20. 29 The House of Commons, 17-15-1754, ed. R. Sedgwick (2 vols., 1970) [hereafter cited as HP 1715-54], II, 476; Survey of London XXIX: The Parish of St. James, Westminster, Pt. 1 (I960), 67-8. G. S. De Krey, A Fractured Society: The Politics of London in the First Age of Party, 1688-1715 (Oxford, 1985), p. 44. 31 Horwitz, Parliament, Policy and Politics, p. 17. 32 Ibid., pp. 13, 95; Lois G. Schwoerer, The Declaration of Rights, 1689 (Baltimore, 1981). 33 J. C. D. Clark, Rebellion and Revolution (Cambridge, 1986).

Religion and Royal Succession 27 prerogative, any more than the Tories were to defend George I's and George H's prerogative. William, on the other hand, was determined to retain as much royal power as possible, telling Thomas Wharton 'the Crown shall not be the worse for my wearing it'.34 While the creation of the Bank of England and the National Debt made him rely less on day-to-day financial dependence on Parliament and in a number of important occasions he used the royal veto over parliamentary bills. Moreover, like the first two Georges, he was the head of another European state, with his own foreign policy, and he concluded treaties, the controversial Partition Treaties in particular, without the consent of Parliament. The other main achievement of the 1689 Convention was the passing of the Toleration Act, which did not grant Dissenters toleration as such but exempted them from the penalties of the Test Act. Baron Wharton, Thomas Wharton's father, and Richard Hampden, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, had sought a full comprehension." William, though well-disposed, was soon made to understand the political impossibility of it. The Marquess of Halifax remarked that the Church of England party 'had rather turn Papists than take in the Presbuterians'.36 Matthew Hay, a nonconformist minister, wrote to his son about the Toleration bill:37 when you write to any of our lawmakers, acknowledge their kindness and pains in procuring it with all thankfulness, but till the sacramental test be taken off, our business is not done.

Nevertheless, the Dissenters remained the most effusively loyal section of the population, to William III and later to the fijst two Georges. 3

The 1689 Parliament had failed to settle the most crucial matter from William's point of view: the revenue. Danby, now Lord Carmarthen, persuaded William to dissolve the Convention and to call a new Parliament in the traditional way, which produced a Tory majority after many contests. The King, however, refused to rely entirely on one party, preferring a system of mixed ministries in which the balance was tilted towards one party or another at different times.38 This produced weak, unstable ministries and in 1694 Sunderland argued that it was also unfair since the Whigs and Tories were not 'equal in relation to this 34 A. Cunningham, The History of Great Britain from the Revolution of 1688 to the Accession of George I (2 vols., 1787), I, 115. 35 Horwitz, Parliament, Policy and Politics, p. 21. 36 Memoirs of Sir John Reresby, ed. A. Browning (Glasgow, 1936), p. 572. 37 Horwitz, Parliament, Policy and Politics, p. 29. 38 Burnet, History, IV, 5-6.

28 Britain in the First Age of Party government' since the first 'may be made for it' while 'not a quarter of the other ever can'.39 It had the advantage of dividing the Tories, however much they disliked the breach in the hereditary succession or intrigued with James II at St. Germain. From 1694 to 1699 the scales tilted towards the Whigs with ministries dominated by the Whig Junto. This was despite the fact that several of William's Whig ministers, including two who had signed the invitation to him, were willing to compound or reinsure themselves at St. Germain. An interesting feature of the reign was the existence of two reversionary interests: that of James II and his son and that of the Princess Anne, next in succession by law, at whose court Marlborough presided. The main achievement of the Revolution settlement was that, by not settling the revenue on William for life, the need to vote supplies for the army and navy, in wartime particularly, ensured annual sessions of Parliament. Parliamentary management, such as it was, consisted in the proliferation of placemen, there were more of them in the 1690s than at any time in the period reviewed here. Regular sessions produced general benefit since such matters as the building of roads, harbours and most matters concerning trade were dealt with by Acts of Parliament, passed in response to petitions from localities. The long prorogations or failure to call a Parliament in the previous two reigns must have caused hardship and inconvenience for many. For parliamentary historians, the 1690s are fascinating for it is a period when Parliament exercised real control. The powerful committee of public accounts and the committee on Irish forfeitures, in particular, forced ministries to back-track and to reveal all. The opposition or 'Country party' contained a small but influential number of 'Commonwealth' Whigs, Deists and anticlericals, the intellectual heirs of the 2nd Duke of Buckingham, men such as Walter Moyle and Robert Molesworth, who looked to ancient Rome for a model of civic virtue.40 While most Whigs veered inexorably towards the Court, the country squires, most of them Tory, joined, for different reasons, in attacking standing armies and placemen, led by the Harleys and Foleys, former Whigs who were becoming Tories. No one had foreseen the length, scale and expense of the Nine Years War, which drained the country of money, produced 39

J. P. Kenyon, 'The Earl of Sunderland and the King's Administration, 1693-1695', E.H.J?.,LXXI (1956), 581. 40 M. Goldic, The Roots of True Whiggism, 1688-94', History of Political Thought, I (1980), 195-226. See also Caroline Robbins, The Eighteenth Century Commonwealthman (Cambridge, Mass., 1959); J. G. A. Pocock, The Macchiavellian Moment (Princeton, 1975); H. T. Dickinson, Liberty and Property: Political Ideology in Eighteenth Century Britain (1977), chapters 3 and 5. 41 D. Hayton, 'The "Country" Interest and the Party System, 1689-C.1720', Party and Management in Parliament, 1660-1784, ed. C. Jones (Leicester, 1984), pp. 37-86; C. Brooks, 'The Country Persuasion and Political Responsibility in Englandjn the 1690s', Parliaments, Estates and Representation, IV (1984), 135-46.

Religion and Royal Succession

29

unprecedently high taxes and led to the re-coinage of 1696, which left the common people in several areas unable, for a time, to buy food or the necessities of life.42 'The gentlemen of England', as the Tory squires were called, were driven to fury at the war 'profiteers', many of them Dissenters, who grew rich on the proceeds: army and naval contractors, army officers, Bank of England directors, who used their profits to get into Parliament, often at the expense of those who paid for the war. 43 Anti-Dutch and anti-Dissenting feeling often coincided, as in the case of Sir John El will, a Dissenter and factor for the Dutch in the west country. His practices were regarded by Sir Edward Seymour as producing a new pattern in the woollen trade, which resulted in 'English stocks, English risks, English labours and Dutch profits'. 44 This transformation took place against the background of frequent elections held under the Triennial Act of 1694, which produced a larger participatory electorate and polarised parties.45 The upshot was the disbandment of part of the army in 1699, after the peace of Ryswick, when William was forced to send his Dutch guards home, although other regiments were placed on the Irish establishments and hidden away in Ireland. Underneath it all, the question of the royal succession loomed large. Thomas Wharton, the greatest Whig electoral manager of his time, knew the weakness of his Tory enemy. From 1690 onwards Wharton brought in bills to force the Tories to abjure James II and the 'pretended' Prince of Wales, designed to drive them out of office, national and local. It took the Assassination Plot and the attainder of Sir John Fenwick in 1696 for him to succeed. It is difficult to know how many Tories believed the absurd story of the substitution of the Prince of Wales in a warming-pan in 1688, but it was damaging. There were ways round, of course. When Lord Feversham, who had seen the birth of the Prince, objected in 1696 that he could not subscribe to his being 'pretended', he did so after being assured by the Duke of Leeds (Danby) that the word 'pretended' referred, not to the facts of the birth, but to the abrogation of the child's claim to the throne by Parliament. 46 In 1702 it was the Tories who insisted on the oath of abjuration of the 'pretended' Prince of Wales being made obligatory, 7 whereas Wharton had proposed a voluntary one, on the old Cavalier principle that oaths 4

" Cumbria R.O. (Kendal), Le Fleming MSS.: Sir John Lowther of Whitehaven to Sir Daniel Fleming, 6 June 1696. 43 Holmes, British Politics, pp. 278-9, 249. 44 Bath MSS. (The Marquess of Bath, Longleat, Wilts.), Thynne Papers, XXIV, ff. 307-8: John Bankes to Lord Wey mouth, 11 Jan. 1696. 45 See W. A. Speck, Tory and Whig: The Struggle m the Constituencies, 1701-1715 (1970). 46 Horwitz, Parliament, Policy and Politics, p. 175. 47 Ibid., p. 301.

30 Britain in the First Age of Party taken under duress were not binding. The death of the Duke of Gloucester, the Princess Anne's only surviving child, in 1700, caused another crisis because as the Duke of Devonshire observed, the Prince of Wales must be kept out and yet 'the nation will not submit to any more foreigners'.48 At this time, a steady stream of Tories went over to see James II at St. Germain, including Lord Windsor and Sir John Parsons, an influential London alderman. Fergus Grahme, brother of James Grahme M.P., took over proposals from Sir Christopher Musgrave suggesting that the Prince of Wales should be brought up as an Anglican. James made clear he could not agree. King William asked the Parliament elected in February 1701 to settle the Crown in the House of Hanover, 58th in line in the hereditary succession, but the nearest Protestants. Most of the King's Whig Junto former ministers were being impeached by Parliament and he had to turn to some of the Tories led by Rochester and Seymour. As a correspondent of the Electress Sophia of Hanover observed 'whatever people may be in their hearts, few will appear so open at this time as to declare for St. Germain'.50 This proved an accurate forecast and only John Granville, Lord Bath's brother and an influential M.P., seems to have spoken against settling the Crown in the House of Hanover. 51 The Tories were forced to accept, but did so with bad grace. Sir John Bolles, the clown of the House, who was showing signs of mental instability and was afterwards committed as a lunatic, was placed in the chair of the committee on the bill. After procedural delays, the bill was made insulting by specifying that the future king would not be allowed to go abroad nor to employ foreigners without the consent of Parliament and that no placemen would be allowed to sit in the House of Commons once it was implemented. Notwithstanding, the bill received the royal assent, most of its provisions being repealed after 1715, with the exception of the clause barring a Roman Catholic successor. It is ironic, given the hallowed place of the Act in later Whig historiography, that the all-Whig delegation sent to present a copy of the Act to Electress Sophia, comprised men regarded as unsavoury characters by their contemporaries: the Earl of Macclesfield, one of the chief Whig collaborators of James H's, his nephew the psychopathic Lord Mohun, Charles Mason, a Whig M.P. found guilty of fraud, and John Toland, 48

Letters Illustrative of the Reign of William HI from 1696 to 1708 Addressed to -the Duke of Shrewsbury by James Vernon, ed. G. P. R. James (3 vols., 1841), III, 137-8. 49 C. Cole, Historical and Political Memoirs (1735), pp. 195-235; 7th Duke of Manchester, Court and Society from Elizabeth to Anne (2 vols, 1864), II, 119-20; C. T. Gatty, Mary Davies and the Manor ofEbury (2 vols., 1921), II, 60-1. I am obliged to Paul Monod for the identification of Fergus Grahme. 50 Correspondence de Leibnitz avec I'Electrice Sophie de Brunswick-Lunebourg, ed. C. Klopp (3 vols., Hanover, 1874), II, 246. 51 B.L., Add. MS. 30000 E, ff. 40-1, 63, 68, 73, 184-6.

Religion and Royal Succession 31 an Irish Roman Catholic who had become a Commonwealth Whig and had written a treatise in favour of the Hanoverian succession.52 At this stage the Whigs supported a renewal of the war against France, while the Tories opted for peace if at all possible.53 Some hoped that the Duke of Anjou might rule like a Spaniard instead of like a French prince if he accepted the Spanish throne under the will of Carlos II. Louis XIV's recognition of the Prince of Wales as King of England, after James II's death in September 1701, however, made war inevitable. 4

The accession of Queen Anne whose heart, as she proclaimed was 'entirely English', was greeted with enthusiasm and relief by the Tory party. She had even, it would seem, obtained the agreement of her halfbrother at St. Germain not to press his claim to the throne during her lifetime.34 Claiming to govern by hereditary right, though not by divine right, she touched for the King's Evil (unlike William III and subsequently the Hanoverians) and restored the charismatic trappings of the monarchy. Her rule was in fact as undisputed as that of Charles II, George III and, as such, more stable than that of James II, William III, George I and George II. Party struggles continued, with each party creating its own electorate in the course of frequent electoral contests. There were basic disagreements over the conduct of the war, over religious issues particularly, but Queen Anne's throne was not threatened, even committed Jacobites being content to wait for her death. Taking the Tories into favour after her accession, Queen Anne pursued a system of mixed ministries, refusing steadfastly to place herself into the hands of a single-party government. The needs of the war made Marlborough's brilliant generalship and Godolphin's talents at managing the Treasury and public credit indispensable. They relied on Tory support at first, preferring, like the Queen, inter-party administrations and the employment of moderate men in church and state. After the fall of Robert Harley in 1708, however, they were driven to rely almost entirely on the Whigs. But if the Queen did not claim to rule by divine right, Marlborough, the victor of Blenheim, Ramillies, Oudenarde and Malplaquet, a Prince of the Holy Roman Empire, rewarded with wealth and honours, behaved as if he governed by divine right. While the Whig party was better organised and disciplined, despite internal rivalries among its leaders, the Tories had wider popular 52

N. Luttrell, Brief Historical Relation of State Affairs (6 vols., Oxford, 1857), V, 58,

67. 53 54

Horwitz, Parliament, Policy and Politics, p. 279. E. Gregg, Queen Anne (1980), p. 122.

32 Britain in the First Age of Party support. Francis Hare wrote, 'it has always seemed to be very plain that the spirit of the gentry of the nation is Toryism, and that nothing but the influence of the Court has made it otherwise in any Parliament'. 55 Queen Anne's reign saw a revival of old English institutions. The Convocation of the Church of England, which had not been allowed to meet until the very end of William's reign, flourished under her. There was a revival of the ancient Parliament of Tinners in Cornwall, which played a crucial part in the economic as well as the political life of that region.56 Tories looked for means to check the growth of nonconformity after the passing of the Toleration Act. Any Roman Catholic threat to Anglican hegemony had gone, whereas the Dissenters, who formed at most 20 per cent of the population, were the Whig 'activists', the core of the party's support in many constituencies. The practice which allowed Dissenters considerable electoral and political influence was that of occasional conformity, by which Dissenters qualified for office by taking the Anglican sacrament once a year or occasionally. This was regarded as an abomination by the Tories and George Granville, Lord Lansdown, likened occasional conformity to 'those followers of Judas, who come to the Lord's Supper to sell and betray him'. 57 Dr. Sacheverell's most celebrated sermon 'The Perils of False Brethren' ranted against the Toleration Act, against occasional conformity and against the Dissenters: 'the same hands that were guilty of Regicide and sacriledge, that at once divided the King's head and the Crown, and made our Church stables'.58 Particular outrage had been caused in 1697 when the then Lord Mayor of London, Sir Humphrey Edwin, had attended morning prayers at St. Paul's in full mayoral procession, wearing the robes of his office, and similarly attired, went to a conventicle in the afternoon. 59 Sir John Pakington complained that 'their conventicles are now fuller than any of our churches, and more attendance or coaches about them'.60 Successive Occasional Conformity bills planned in the Lower House of Convocation, were passed by the House of Commons only to be defeated by the Whig majority in the Lords, culminating in the Tack, whereby an Occasional Conformity bill was tacked to a money bill, a device used successfully in William's reign. The Tack was defeated in 55

Holmes, British Politics, p. 248. Eveline Cruickshanks, 'The Convocation of the Stannaries of Cornwall: The Parliament of Tinners, 1703-1752', Parliaments, Estates and Representation, VI (1986), 5967. 57 Cobbett, Pad. Hist., VII, 577-81. 58 H. Sachevercll, The Perils of False Brethern in Church and State: Set forth in a Sermon, preached before the Right Hon. Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Citizens of London, at the Cathedral Church of St. Paul's on the 5th of November 1709 (1709). 59 De Krey, Fractured Society, p. 114. 60 W. A. Speck, 'An Anonymous Parliamentary Diary, 1705-6', Camden Miscellany XXIII (Camden Soc., 4th ser., VII, 1969), 83. 56

Religion and Royal Succession 33 1704 through the superior managerial skills of Robert Harley, who surpassed even his performance in getting the Act of Settlement through the Commons in 1701. After the defeat of many Tackers at the 1705 election Harley again checkmated most of his party over the choice of the Court candidate as Speaker in 1705.61 A watered-down version of previous Occasional Conformity bills was passed in 1711, in which the Whig lords concurred in order to obtain the support of the Earl of Nottingham, a Hanoverian Tory, against the peace proposals.62 The trial of Dr. Sacheverell in 1710 saw the climax of the revival of interest in the doctrines of hereditary right and non-resistance. In the course of it, Wharton had abandoned the legend of the warming-pan, admitted the legitimacy of the Pretender and based the Queen's title firmly on parliamentary sanction. The implications could be embarrassing for both parties and it was followed by popular riots and demonstrations, many of them with Jacobite overtones.63 This coincided with war-weariness in many sections of the population, at the appalling rate of casualties, the enormous expense and the unlikelihood of dethroning the Duke of Anjou, now established as Philip V of Spain. From the beginning the Tories had disliked the continental war, which they thought of little use to Britain's future, which lay in trade and seapower. Most of all, as after 1715, they disapproved of the heavy subsidies paid by Parliament to European allies, allies who often did not supply the number of troops agreed. They loathed particularly the Barrier Treaties, which gave the Dutch the right to intervene in English affairs. The depth of Tory hatred for Marlborough, of the Jacobite wing of the party especially, because of his double-dealing with St. Germain, cannot be overestimated. 64 To the Whigs the War of the Spanish Succession had been a Protestant crusade and they rejoiced at Maryborough's brilliant victories, which made Britain the arbiter of Europe. Marlborough, who started as a Tory, had become and remained the greatest hero in the Whig pantheon. By 1709-10 French expansion had been checked and Britain and France were financially exhausted. Swift wrote of the enemy flags captured by the Duke in the Conduct of the Allies:65 it will, no doubt, be a might Comfort to our Grandchildren, when they see 61 H. L. Snydcr, 'The Defeat of the Occasional Conformity Bill and the Tack', B.I.H.R., XLI (1968), 172-92; W. A. Speck, The Choice of a Speaker in 1705', ibid., XXXVII (1964), 20-46. 62 Holmes, British Politics, p. 113. 63 G. Holmes, The Trial of Doctor Sacheverell (1973); idem, 'The Sacheverell Riots: The Crowd and the Church in Early Eighteenth Century London', Past and Presesnt, No. 72 (1976), pp. 55-85; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 217-47; Kcnyon, Revolution Principles, pp. 213-16. 64 D. Szechi, Jacobitism and Tory Politics, 1710-1714 (Edinburgh, 1984), p. 40. 65 The Prose Writings of Jonathan Swift, ed. H. Davis and I. Ehrenpreis (16 vols., Oxford, 1939-68), VI, 55-6.

34

Britain in the First Age. of Party a few Rags hang up in Westminster Hall, which cost an hundred Millions, whereof they are paying the Arrears, and boasting, as Beggars do, that their Grandfathers were rich and great.

Yet the Whigs were unwilling or unable to make peace. One factor may have been that they were unswerving for the Hanoverian succession and the Elector of Hanover (the future George I) was known to be bitterly opposed to Britain making a separate peace; indeed he never forgave the Tories for concluding one. After the fall of Marlborough and Godolphin in 1710, the prime task of Robert Harley, now the chief minister (who became Earl of Oxford in 1711) was to conclude peace. Although the Tories had won a resounding victory at the general election held in the late summer of that year, in the Lords Harley had to rely on a few Court Whigs and Hanoverian Tory peers because of the Whig majority there. Even the creation of twelve new peers did not much ease his position. In the Commons, the Tories were divided into the Jacobite Tories, who would accept James as a Roman Catholic King after Anne, who tended to be activists in much the same way as the Dissenters were in the Whig party. Oxford secured their support by opening negotiations with St. Germain through the Abbe Gaultier, an unofficial French representative in England, and the Jacobites obeyed dutifully James's whips to support the court. 66 The point of view of the centre of the party is less clear, but the Duke of Berwick, James H's illegitimate son, who was in close touch with the Duke of Ormonde, Marlborough's successor in command of the army, thought that there would have been a majority in that Parliament for the repeal of the Act of Settlement. Oxford, however, who had the ear of the Queen, insisted that peace must come first. There was no choice but to comply.67 Another wing of the party, smaller than the Jacobites but equally active, were the Hanoverian Tories, who would reject James Stuart even if he became a Protestant, but were in favour of peace, though not of the treaty of commerce with France of 1713 as too favourable to French wines and other commodities. All could agree on the need for peace and when it was proclaimed in London, the number of people on the streets and the scenes of public rejoicing were the greatest in living memory.68 The struggle for power between Oxford and Bolingbroke tore the Tory party apart, despite a last-ditch attempt at reconciliation by the passing of the Schism bill in 1714, banning dissenting schools, on which all sections of the party could agree. Oxford and Bolingbroke had kept lines of communication open with f6

' Szechi, Jacobitism and Tory Politics, chapters 4 and 5. Memoires du Marechal de Berwick (Collection des Memoires Relatifs a I'Histoire de France, 2nd ser., LXVI, 1828), ed. A. Petitot et Monmerque, pp. 221-3. 68 Kenneth A. Spencer Research Library, University of Kansas, Lawrence, Kansas, Arthur Moore MS. 143: Arthur Moore to Mr. Drift, 6 May 1713. 67

Religion and Royal Succession 35 Hanover, while dealing with St. Germain, probably in the belief that whichever King may reign, they would be the Crown's ministers. Given the fact that William III had employed most members of James It's former government, it did not seem too unrealistic at the time. 5

The death of Queen Anne in the summer of 1714, however, was followed by the dismissal of her ministers and a thorough purge of Tories from office at national and local level, when the revengefulness of the Whigs was matched by that of the new King, George I. As a foreigner and a Lutheran occasional conformist, George I would have needed tact and understanding to get the Tory part of the nation, the greater part at that, to accept his regime de facto, despite their traditional attachment to hereditary right in the Stuart line. Instead, he made himself king of the Whigs, treating the Tories as outcasts in their own country. A handful of Hanoverian Tories, Sir Thomas Hanmer among them, were, it is true, offered places, which they refused apparently because they would not separate themselves from their party. Nottingham, however, did take office, resigning in 1716 over the treatment of the rebel lords after the '15. He was followed in opposition by his relations Heneage Finch, Lord Guernsey, and Daniel, Lord Finch, and his friends Henry Bertie and Sir Roger Mostyn. At the general election of 1715 the widely distributed Tory pamphlet the English Advice to the Freeholders of England demanded 'No new taxes. No attempt against the Church. No repeal of the conditions upon which the crown is setted upon the King. No standing army. No Long Parliament'. Above all, no new war with 'knavish recruiters' pressing 'honest housekeepers and tradesmen' and quartering of soldiers in private houses and inns. The King's proclamation dissolving Parliament showed a clear preference for the Whigs and the whole power of the state was exerted on their behalf, whereas the Tories had appealed in vain to the French for some financial support in elections.69 The Tories carried 48 out of 80 English counties, winning 217 seats to the Whigs 341, but losing a further 31 seats to the Whigs after petitions carried on party grounds. The Whigs, however, did well in London where the Court list carried the day. ° The new Parliament then prepared the impeachments of the Queen Anne's late ministers, accused of having sought to introduce the Pretender and to have betrayed the Allies at the peace of Utrecht. Bolingbroke and Ormonde fled abroad and entered the service of'James III'. Oxford stayed and he, the chief architect of the Act of 69

B. L., Add. MS. 34500, f. 64. HP 1715-54, I, 23; W. A. Speck, 'The General Election of 1715', E.H.R., XC (1975), 507-22. 70

36 Britain in the First Age of Party Settlement, was placed in the Tower.7 Jacobite riots, widespread in 1715, had apparently originally been planned to coincide with a rising, but like everything else in the Fifteen, it went wrong and merely led to the passing of the Riot Act. Leading Tories in the west country, where a rebellion was planned under Sir William Wyndham, were arrested by the government. The death of Louis XIV at this time deprived them of any hope of military help from France. The Stuart Court attempted to countermand orders for a rising, but Lord Mar raised his standard in Scotland without consulting anybody and his ineptitude as well as lack of timing, led to the ruin of the northern Jacobites, who had joined the Scots. Executions, transportations and forfeitures of the rebels were followed by more severe penal laws against Roman Catholics.73 The Septennial Act of 1716, against which a handful of country Whigs voted, prolonged the life of this Parliament without holding an election and made future Parliaments last seven years instead of three. It was a milestone in the establishment of the Whig ascendancy. One-party governments monopolised the sweets of office for the Whigs for nearly half a century. The same year George I and his Whig ministry concluded an alliance with France, where the Duke of Orleans now ruled as Regent, as the best guarantee of the Hanoverian succession. The close friendship which existed between James Stanhope, a leading member of the Whig administration, and the Abbe Dubois, the chief minister in France, made Anglo-French relations the closest they had been since the days of Charles II. The Whigs, however, soon began to quarrel among themselves and there was a split in the party. One section under the 3rd Earl of Sunderland and Stanhope continued to look to George I, while another centred round the Prince of Wales (the future George II), who was on the worst of terms with his father. Lord Townshend, Robert Walpole and William Pulteney went into opposition, voting against the government in June 1717, with all the Prince of Wales's servants, on the cost of the transport of the Dutch troops over to England in the Fifteen, an operation which was said to have netted a huge personal profit for Cadogan, Marlborough's henchman. 74 Nottingham, Sir Thomas Hanmer (who had become increasingly disillusioned with George I) and some Hanoverian Tories went to the Prince's court. There was a widespread campaign of Tory addresses, promoted by Sir John Pakington in Worcestershire and William Bromley in Warwickshire and other high Tories, urging the Prince of Wales to show himself'disposed to be a common father to all his people, in spite of the common artifices 71 72 73 74

Burnet, History, IV, 499. Royal Archives, Windsor Castle, Stuart Papers 216/211. H.M.C., Lords MSS., new ser., XII, pp. xxix, 280-1. HP 1715-54, \, 81-2, 513.

Religion and Royal Succession 37 and insinuations of such as delight in war and bloodshed'. Some Whigs thought this 'the wisest step the Jacobites have yet taken, since it manifestly tends to set up the son against the father, and to lay a lasting foundation of uneasiness and distraction among those who are best affected to the royal family'. The Prince refused to countenance these addresses, though he received Hanmer and other Hanoverian Tories graciously at Richmond.75 At any rate, the Tories began to flock to Parliament, in the belief that they might hold the balance of power. Two years in prison had led Oxford to embrace Jacobitism wholeheartedly at last. Dealing through Charles Caesar, a prominent Tory M.P. and one of the ministers turned out on the Hanoverian succession, Oxford managed a scheme to enlist the support of Charles XII of Sweden, then indignant at being deprived of his duchies of Bremen and Verden by Hanover, and to obtain troops from him, paid by money raised in England, to restore the Stuarts. Oxford suggested that James should accept responsibility for that part of the national debt incurred before the end of Queen Anne's reign and that a free Parliament should be called as soon as the Swedes had landed.76 Atterbury, who was reconciled with Oxford, would, it was reported,77 do his part in animating the clergy and warming the City of London from the pulpit the Sunday before the invasion is expected. Dr. Sacheverell, whose interest with the mob is as great as ever, has faithfully promised to obey orders and lift up his voice, like a trumpet when the word of command is given him.

The heady days of 1710 were not to come again, however, for the Whig government arrested the Swedish envoy, Count Gyllenborg and seized his papers. The Tories, including Hanoverian Tories, were joined by opposition Whigs in voting against a special supply against Sweden, but Walpolc voted with the Court. 78 The Whig split benefited Oxford himself by leading to his acquittal and release from the Tower.79 In the years after 1715 the Dissenters had been more than ever, the Whig backbone in many constituencies. Sunderland and Stanhope, who had a long-standing commitment to religious comprehension for Dissenters, decided in 1717 to introduce the repeal of the Occasional Conformity and Schism Acts and to 'reform' the universities of Oxford 75

W. Coxe, Memoirs of the Life and Administration of Sir Robert Walpole (3 vols., 1798), II, 75-6; J. Black. 'Parliament and the Political and Diplomatic Crisis of 1717-1718', Parliamentary History, III (1984), 77-101; The Correspondence of Sir Thomas Hanmer, cd. Sir Henry Bunbury (1838), pp. 174, 182. 76 H.M.C., Stuart MSS., II, 477; III, 8-14, 27, 375, 436, 479-85; IV, 75-7, 146-7; C. Nordmann, La Crise du Nord an debut du XVIIF Siecle (Paris, 1962), pp. 80-152. 77 H.M.C., Stuart MSS., II, 69-70. 78 Black, 'Parliament and the ... Crisis of 1717-18', p. 79. 79 C. Jones, 'The Impeachment of the Earl of Oxford and the Whig Schism of 1717', B.I.H.R., LV (1982), 66-87.

38 Britain in the First Age. of Party and Cambridge by bringing them under Whig control. In support of this policy, John Shute Barrington, a dissenting M.P., wrote to Sunderland that he hardly knew 'one place in England, where the Whigs could carry an election if the Dissenters should be angry and either join with the Tories or in discontent sit still and not vote at all'. Lord Townshend and the Duke of Devonshire, who were in opposition at this time, argued on the contrary that it was essential for the Whigs to show they were no threat to the Church of England. The repeal of the Occasional Conformity and Schism Acts was carried through Parliament in 1718, with the Whig bishops voting for it in the Lords. Cambridge was remodelled by the Whigs, but Oxford University remained a Tory bastion.80 The general election of 1722 was fiercely contested and saw widespread Tory demonstrations with Jacobite overtones in places such as Westminster and Coventry. A Tory pamphlet distributed at the time entitled The Second Advice to the Freeholders of England strongly attacked the Whigs bishops, 'unrestrained by scruples of conscience, which being very incommodious and likewise unfashionable in this age, they kindly leave to their brethren of inferior rank', for voting for the repeal of the Occasional Conformity and Schism Acts and for meekly consenting to the abolition of Convocation. It upbraided the ministry for involving Britain in three wars (against Sweden, Spain and Russia) in order to acquire Bremen and Verden for Hanover, adding that the King's German ministers, unlike their English colleagues, had the excuse of acting in the interest of their own country. The Tories won 178 seats, many in counties and large, open constituencies, to the 379 won by the Whigs. The discovery of yet another Jacobite plot, the Atterbury Plot of 1722, allowed Robert Walpole, Sunderland's successor as prime minister, skilfully to reduce the Tory party to impotence. The realities of power required Walpole, and the Pelhams after him, to retain the favour of the Crown by serving the interests of Hanover as well as those of Britain.81 By superior political management of the Court party in Parliament, Walpole obtained ample financial supplies for the first two Georges and their European allies. Unlike his predecessors, however, he sought to keep Britain out of European wars for financial reasons, but even more so as to avoid any possibility of hostile European states aiding the Jacobites by restoring the Stuarts. 2 It has recently been 80 J. E. Bradley, 'Nonconformity and the Electorate in Eighteenth-Century England', Parliamentary History (forthcoming); G M. Townend, 'Religious Radicalism and Conservatism in the Whig Party under George I: The Repeal of the Occasional Conformity and Schism Acts; ibid, (forthcoming). I am obliged to the authors for permission to cite their articles before publication. 81 J. Black, British Foreign Policy in the Age of Walpole (Edinburgh, 1985). " Eveline Cruickshanks, 'The Political Management of Sir Robert Walpole', Britain in the Age of Walpole, cd. J. Black (1984), pp. 23-43.

Religion and Royal Succession 39 argued that eighteenth-century England was an Ancien Regime society, Anglican, aristocratic, hierarchical and monarchical, a confessional state in fact.83 By maintaining a Church-Whig alliance, recognising that the repeal of the Test and Corporations Act was impracticable when Dissenters were agitating for it in 1732-6,84 Walpole conciliated Anglican opinion and prevented the Tories from raising the 'Church in danger' cry. He miscalculated over the Quakers Tithe bill of 1736, designed to protect Quakers from imprisonment for non-payment of tithes, when he found, to his dismay, the Whig bishops voting against the government. On the whole, Walpole was successful in moderating the anti-clerical zeal of a section of the Whig party. 6

Britain was a deeply monarchical society, with a very small minority in favour of a Commonwealth. 'King-killers' was one of the electoral cries most dreaded by the Whigs. This is not to say there was agreement between parties about who should be on the throne. The Tories could never be happy to see the grandson of Charles the Martyr in exile, while a foreigner was on the throne. On past experience, however, many would have accepted the situation in practice, had the proscription begun in 1714-15 been lifted. A recent study of the Tory party86 agreed with the present author on the survival of the Tory party enjoying widespread popular support, as well as on the scale of the proscription. This study shows that the Tories possessed a sophisticated party organisation. It is agreed that they were not a party of backwoodsmen who did not want office per se. It has been argued, however, that they were a mainly proHanoverian party, who could reasonably hope to get into office under George I and even more under George II. This is extremely surprising since neither King showed any change of heart or any inclination to take in the Tories as a single-party government or as a substantial part of a mixed administration. There were Hanoverian Tories: first the small group led by Sir Thomas Hanmer in the 1715 Parliament, which disintegrated after he went out of politics in 1722; and another group of self-proclaimed Hanoverian Tories gathered round Bolingbroke, after his return to England in 1723, and his friend Sir William Wyndham, who 83

J. C. D. Clark, English Society, 1688-1832 (Cambridge, 1985). N. C. Hunt, Sir Robert Walpole, Samuel Holden, and the Dissenting Deputies (Dr. Williams Lecture, No. 11, Oxford, 1967); idem, Two Early Political Associations: The Quakers and the Dissenting Deputies in the Age of Sir R. Walpole (Oxford, 1961). 85 S. Taylor, 'Sir Robert Walpole, the Church of England and the Quakers Tithe Bill of 1736', Historical Journal, XXVIII (1985), 51-77; T. F. J. Kendrick, 'Sir Robert Walpole, the Old Whigs and the Bishops, 1733-36', ibid., XI (1968), 421-45. 86 Linda Colley, In Defiance of Oligarchy: The Tory Party, 1714-1760 (Cambridge, 1982). 84

40 Britain in the First Age of Party courted Lord Gower and Lord Bathurst. Had the proscription been ended on the accession of George II in 1727 when many Tories (with the exception of the 2nd Earl of Oxford and William Shippen) went to Court for the first time, the Hanoverian Tories might have become numerous. Disappointment at being rebuffed by George II showed how intermittent Bolingbroke and Wyndham's Hanoverianism was, for in the years 1731-34 they were concerned with Lord Cornbury, M.P. for the University of Oxford, in a scheme to restore the Stuarts with French help. Bolingbroke and Wynham told Chavigny, the French ambassador at London, that the Tory party had never really reconciled itself to the Hanoverian succession. Wyndham added that there should be a restoration either by Parliament, in which case it would be on revolution principles and with the settlement of the Crown and the nation left to Parliament, or with the help of the French, in which case it would be upon hereditary right. Their insistence that James should abdicate in favour of his eldest son, Charles Edward Stuart, who should be brought up as an Anglican in Switzerland under the care of the Duke of Ormonde, caused divisions within the Tory party in England and a rift at the Stuart court.87 The outbreak of the war of the Polish Succession, in any case, prevented the preparations for a French landing in England.88 Bolingbroke and Wyndham later resumed their pro-Hanoverian stance, looking to Frederick, Prince of Wales, round whom opposition Whigs gathered, but were unable to command the allegiance of the bulk of the Tory party. The death of Sir William Wyndham in 1740 reunited the party under the leadership of Sir Watkin Williams Wynn and Sir John Hynde Cotton, both committed Jacobites, in the Commons, and when Lord Gower apostatized in 1744, he was replaced afterwards by the Duke of Beaufort, a staunch Jacobite, as head of the Honourable Brotherhood, the chief Tory club. Answering for the Tory party, they and other leading Tories conducted negotiations with the French for a restoration of the Stuarts which led to a French expedition in 1744 and to the '45, shaking the Whig establishment and very nearly succeeding. The failure of the '45 ultimately broke the old Tory party because it had been looking to a Stuart option. On the other hand, the former libertarian traditions of the Whigs had vanished. Replete with the spoils of power, the Whigs had grown increasingly repressive in support of the Hanoverian establishment. There were no Whig radicals, no Dissenters advocating wholesale parliamentary reform as yet, not surprisingly since most voters voted Tory and a redistribution of seats would have amounted to electoral suicide for the Whigs. When Whigs in opposition courted the alliance of Tories after 1747, proposing an end to the Eveline Cruickshanks, 'Lord Cornbury'. 88 Eveline Cruickshanks, Political Untouchables: The Tories and the '45 (1979). 89 J. C. D. Clark, The Dynamics of Change (Cambridge, 1982), pp. 1-95.

Religion and Royal Succession 41 proscription, Charles Gray, a Tory M.P., suggested to the 2nd Lord Egmont, Frederick Prince of Wales's chief adviser, a franchise of freeholders in all the boroughs. Egmont thought this a strange reformation, not even recognising the very proposals put forward by Shaftesbury and the first Whigs in 1679! When the proscription was ended by George III, what remained of the Tory party eventually split, roughtly in half, between the Whig factions.92 The long years of the Whig ascendancy had achieved parliamentary stability, through single-party governments and a well-organised Court party in Parliament, able to provide ample finances to support the regime. The fall of Walpole was followed in the years 1742-46 by weak unstable governments, faced by invasion and a rebellion. A period of national torpor followed under the Pelhams. Political stability was not achieved until the reign of George III when defacto and dejure merged. He was the King of all his subjects and the opposition was now, at last, His Majesty's Opposition. 90

HP 1715-54, \\, 81. J. R.Jones, The First Whigs (1961), pp. 53-4. I. Christie, Tarty in Politics in the Age of Lord North's Administration', Parliamentary History, VI (1987). 91

Bibliographical Note Historians in the Whig tradition have neglected the importance of religious issues in politics, with the exception of North American historians who have shown interest in English Nonconformity, rather than in the Church of England or in Roman Catholicism. Similarly, the complexities of Tory response to the Glorious Revolution of 1688-89 and to the question of settling the royal succession are only beginning to be tackled. J. R.Jones, The First Whigs (1961) andK. H. D. Haley, The First Earl of Shaftesbury (Oxford, 1968), both written from a Whig standpoint, are the best books on the Exclusion crisis. J. P. Kenyon, The Popish Plot (1972), provides a highly readable account of the plot. D. R. Lacey, Dissent and Parliamentary Politics (New Brunswick, N.J., 1969), contains useful material, but does not distinguish between Occasional Conformists and Anglicans. There is much that is new in biographies of leading M.P.s. and articles on constituencies in The House of Commons, 1660-1690, ed. B. D. Henning (3 vols., 1982). John Miller has provided a new and more

42 Britain in the First Age of Party sympathetic account of Stuart policies in Popery and Politics in England, 1660-90 (Cambridge, 1973), and in James II: A Study in Kingship (Hove, 1978), as well as in articles cited in this essay. For the Revolution of 1688-89 seej. R. Jones, The Revolution of 1688 in England (1972), and J. Carswell, The Descent on England (1969). The much-criticised Lucille Pinkham, William HI and The Respectable Revolution, 1688-89 (Cambridge, Mass., 1954), nevertheless contains valuable material. J. P. Kenyon, Robert Spencer, Earl ofSunderland, 16411702 (1958), is an excellent biography of a minister who played a leading part in the reign of James II and of William III, while his Revolution Principles: The Politics of Party, 1689-1720 (Cambridge, 1977), provides new insights for other historians to follow. J. H. Plumb, The Growth of Political Stability in England, 1675-1725 (1967), on the other hand, neglects religious issues and Tory attitudes. There are valuable contributions in Essays in Modern Church History, ed. G. V. Bennett andj. D. Walsh (1966). Mark Goldie, 'The Nonjurors, Episcopacy and the Origins of the Convocation Controversy', in Ideology and Conspiracy: Aspects ofjacobitism, 1689-1759, ed. Eveline Cruickshanks (Edinburgh, 1982), has new material on religious controversies. H. Horwitz, Parliament, Policy and Politics in the Reign of William HI (Manchester, 1977), is a mine of information on all aspects of the politics of William's reign. G. S. De Krey, A Fractured Society: The Politics of London in the First Age of Party (Oxford, 1985), has much new research on London Dissenters. The seminal work of Geoffrey Holmes, British Politics in the Age of Anne (1967), is essential to students interested in religious and royal succession issues, as well as in Augustan politics, while his Trial of Doctor Sacheverell (1973) provides a highly entertaining account of this cause celebre. In Tory and Whig: The Struggle in the Constituencies, 1701-1715 (1970), and in many articles, W. A. Speck has illuminated the attitudes of the electorate and their participatory role in politics. In a recent study, Jacobitism and Tory Politics, 1710-1714 (Edinburgh, 1984), Daniel Szechi has provided new evidence on High Tory attitudes to these issues. For the Hanoverian period H. T. Dickinson, Liberty and Property: Political Ideology in Eighteenth Century Britain (1977), is the best book written from a Whig standpoint, while his Bolingbroke (1970) is the most useful biography of that wayward politician. J. C. D. Clark, English Society, 1688-1832 (Cambridge, 1985), provides whole new insights into the continued importance of hereditary right and of the key role played by the Church of England in eighteenth-century society. G. V. Bennett, The Tory Crisis in Church and State, 1688-1730: The Career of Francis Atterbury Bishop of Rochester (Oxford, 1975), is a useful study on religious affairs and Atterbury's role in Jacobitism. N. C. Hunt, Two Early Political Associations: The Quakers and the Dissenting Deputies in the Age of Sir Robert Walpole (Oxford, 1961), remains an indispensible source for

Religion and Royal Succession 43 agitation for the repeal of the Test Act. Archibald Foord's His Majesty Opposition, 1714-1830 (Oxford, 1964), is a misconceived book, which, nevertheless, contains useful material. Linda Colley, In Defiance of Oligarchy: The Tory Party, 1714-1760 (Cambridge, 1982), is the fruit of much research, but overlooks the importance of hereditary right in Tory ideology. Eveline Cruickshanks, Political Untouchables: The Tories and the '45 (1979), studies Tory schemes to restore the Stuarts. T. W. Perry, Public Opinion, Propaganda and Politics in Eighteenth Century England: A Study of the Jew Bill of 1753 (Cambridge, Mass., 1962), contains interesting material on the last 'Church in danger' crisis in the eighteenth century.

This page intentionally left blank

3 The Electorate in the First Age of Party W. A. Speck

Geoffrey Holmes has had a long and abiding interest in electoral behaviour during the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. His first research project, completed in 1951, was a B.Litt. thesis at Oxford University on the influence of the peerage in elections held during the reign of Queen Anne. When he came to deliver his inaugural lecture at the University of Lancaster in 1975 he chose as his theme 'The Electorate and the National Will in the First Age of Party'. The very title summed up the conclusions of his own research and the investigations of others into the nature of parliamentary elections between the Exclusion and Excise crises. The electorate was a force to be reckoned with in English politics. The first Whigs recognised this during the Exclusion crisis when they specifically appealed to the electors to return candidates pledged to support the bill to exclude the Duke of York from the succession to the throne. Thereafter at election times tracts appear directed to the electors, the freeholders, 'those who are to choose members to serve in the ensuing parliament'. 1 The electorate was thus conceived as being not just a mass of individual atoms but an independent and corporate entity, one moreover to which M.P.s owed not merely their seats but an account of their behaviour in Parliament. Groups of electors began to draw up instructions on how their members should behave in the Commons. A number of these were published in 1701 as The Electors' Right Asserted. Such instructions were largely if not entirely Whig inspired devices, and not surprisingly many Tories found them objectionable. The five Kentish Petitioners and Daniel Defoe were reprimanded by a Tory House of Commons in 1701 when they reflected on its accountability to the electorate, the five in their petition, Defoe in his Legion's Memorial. Defoe estimated that the number of voters was about 200,000.2 Modern estimates have been inclined to raise this figure, Geoffrey Holmes calculating that it might have been as high as 340,000 or nearly one in 1 For example, Seasonable Advice to the Citizens, Burgesses and freeholders of England concerning parliament and the present elections (1685); Lord Halifax, Some cautions offered to the consideration of those who are to choose members to serve in the ensuing parliament (1695); Arthur Mainwaring and the Duchess of Marlborough, Advice to the Electors of Great Britain (1708); Francis Atterbury, English Advice to the Freeholders of England (1714). 2 The Shortest Way with the Dissenters and other pamphlets (Oxford, 1927), p. 105.

46 Britain in the First Age of Party 3 four adult males. The electoral system thus made the Commons more the 'representative of the people' then than it was to become later in the eighteenth century, when the population as a whole increased more rapidly than the number of voters. The reverse was the case in the first age of party, when the electorate was growing more quickly than was the total population. Geoffrey Holmes saw this as an indication of increasing popular participation in elections. Dr. J. C. D. Clark, however, has recently maintained that, so far from reflecting a spontaneous rise in the number of those enfranchised, it indicates the efforts of the party electioneers to extend the range of electoral activity for their own purposes. 'The parties, in other words, created their electorate in these years'.4 There can be no doubt that this was partly true. Electoral organisers in the constituencies not only made every effort to get higher turnouts at the polls, they even manufactured votes. Thus the increase in the numbers of those polling in county contests, which is such a marked feature of this period, was due partly to inflation, partly to bigger turnouts, and partly to the deliberate creation of'defeasible freeholds', or temporary conveyances entitling what were termed 'faggot voters' to vote. This practice was so widespread that in 1712 an act was passed 'for the more effectual preventing fraudulent conveyances in order to multiply votes for electing knights of shires to serve in Parliament'. Splitting of burgages or enlarging freemen registers also swelled the size of the electorates in many boroughs. There are, however, mechanical aspects of any electoral system. Even today, in a so-called democracy, the number of postal votes cast in any election owes a great deal to the trouble taken by political parties to identify those entitled to vote by post, few of whom bother to register themselves. The real activists, nevertheless, needed no prompting from either Whig or Tory agents to avail themselves of the vote. The most dedicated supporters of the two parties at the polls were, for the Tories, the Anglican clergy and, for the Whigs, the Dissenters. The clergy had not been allowed to vote in parliamentary elections before the reign of Charles II, since their own representative body, Convocation, had been empowered to tax them separately. When this right was surrendered in 1664 then, as a quid pro quo, the clergy were given the franchise. Most seem to have taken advantage of it, swelling the number of forty-shilling freeholders by perhaps as many as 10,000. The first opportunity for them to vote came during the Exclusion crisis. Thus the first age of party was ushered in by three general elections which witnessed the unprecedented 3

G. Holmes, The Electorate and the National Will in the First Age of Party (Lancaster, 1976), p. 23; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, p. 23. 4 J. C. D. Clark, English Society, 1688-1832 (Cambridge, 1985), p. 20.

The Electorate in the First Age of Party 47 spectacle of Anglican clergymen appearing at the polls. Their active role in electoral contests, in which they encouraged their congregations to follow their example, did much to ensure a high level of popular participation quite independent of the efforts of party agents. High Church Anglicans did not require material inducements to vote if they were convinced that their Church was in danger. Similarly Dissenters scarcely remained aloof until Whig agents persuaded them to support their party. Moreover they may have numbered as many as one fifth of the total electorate.5 The model of electoral behaviour implied by the notion that the parties created their own electorates is largely invalid for the first age of party, however valid it might have been thereafter. The implication that politics were confined to an elite, and were of little or no concern to the mass of the electorate, who had to be bribed, cajoled or directed to vote by their superiors, is inappropriate to an age when religious passions ran so deep that even the unenfranchised gave vent to them spontaneously in riots and other forms of demonstration. When religious issues lay at the heart of the party struggle in many if not most constituencies, then the willingness to participate in a contest which could affect the balance of parties in Parliament needed little in the way of mechanical stimulation. It has been demonstrated that when borough constituencies are reconstructed as communities using the methods of urban historians then, even in those with small electorates, voters are found to have participated autonomously in elections, independently of would-be patrons.6 The electorate also had a chance to change the composition of the Commons more frequently than voters do today. Between 1679 and the Septennial Act of 1716 general elections took place on average every two and a quarter years. This kept the country in a permanent state of electioneering. Whether or not the electors were able to take advantage of that opportunity depended to some extent on the incidence of contests which concluded in polling. The 269 constituencies of England and Wales did not go to the polls at every election. In the 16 general elections held between 1679 and 1715 the number fluctuated between 60 and 130, the average being 94. This did not, however, mean that the same minority of constituencies were being contested at most elections. On the contrary, the distribution of contests varied enormously from one election to another, so that, in the ten general elections held under the Triennial Act between 1695 and 1715, only 21 constituencies escaped a contest altogether, two of which witnessed contested by-elections. 1 G. Holmes, Religion and Party in late Stuart England (1975), p. 21; Holmes Politics, Religion and Society, p. 201. 6 J. Triffitt, 'Politics and the Urban Community: Parliamentary Boroughs in the South West of England, 1710-1730', (Oxford University, D. Phil., 1985).

48

Britain in the First Age of Party It can of course be questioned how far voters were free to cast genuinely independent votes at contests where there was no secret ballot. Since leaseholds for lives were allowable as freeholds for electoral purposes then many forty-shilling freeholders were also tenants of substantial landowners, and these could be persuaded to support their landlord's choice of candidates at the polls. Geoffrey Holmes himself showed from an analysis of poll books for Buckinghamshire in the reign of Queen Anne that freeholders residing in the vicinity of the leading county landowners tended to poll in accordance with the politics of those magnates. 7 A recent investigation of Cheshire poll books for 1701 and 1702 has also shown 'that in many townships a large number of freeholders followed the example of the principal landowners'. 8 Small boroughs showed similar deference to peers and country gentlemen with stately homes in their vicinity. Thus two of the boroughs which escaped contests completely between 1695 and 1715, Newton in Lancashire and Eye in Suffolk, were under the complete control respectively of the Leghs of Lyme and Lord Cornwallis. Analyses of poll books, however, reveal behaviour which cannot be entirely attributed to deference. In counties there is the phenomenon of a large turnover of voters from one election to another. In both counties and boroughs a significant proportion of those polling at two or more consecutive elections changed their electoral allegiance, supporting Tory candidates on one occasion and Whig candidates on another, and vice versa. The turnover of forty-shilling freeholders between contests could be enormous. There are problems of nominal record linkage involving two poll books for county contests in this period, when different clerks of the polls would hastily scribble down the name, parish and location of the qualifying freehold from a voter who shouted them out at a hectic polling booth. Variations of spelling could be quite bizarre. Nevertheless, even making allowances for this, it is clear that only a minority of names would be common to two successive poll books. In 1701 1,169 freeholders polled in Westmorland. Of these only 633 polled again in 1702, when 347 who had not voted in the previous election also cast their votes.9 At the same elections in Cheshire, 3,422 voted at the first, of whom 1,928 polled at the second, when they were joined by 7

G. Holmes, 'The Influence of the Peerage in English Parliamentary Elections, 17021713', (Oxford University, B. Litt., 1951), pp. 41-44. That magnates in the county exercised substantial control over elections is emphasised in J. Broad, 'Sir John Verney and Buckinghamshire Elections, 1696-1715', B.I.H.R., LVI (1983), 195-204. 8 P. J. Challinor, 'The Structure of Politics in Cheshire, 1660-1715'(Wolverhampton Polytechnic, Ph.D., 1983), p. 215. I wish to thank Dr. Challinor for permitting me to refer to his thesis. y W. A. Speck, W. A. Gray and R. Hopkinson, 'Computer Analysis of Poll Books: A Further Report', B.I.H.R., XLVIII (1975), 88.

The Electorate in the First Age of Party 49 10 2,597 who had not recorded votes in 1701. Only 2,681 of the 5,033 freeholders polling in Kent in 1713, 53 per cent, voted at the next election held in 1715, when a further 3,590 polled who are not recorded in the previous poll book.11 The turnover of voters on this scale has been cited to challenge the view that the electorate in this period was politicised. ~ It must be stressed that it was largely confined to counties. In boroughs it was much lower.13 It was mainly the logistics of getting freeholders to travel large distances, sometimes involving journeys of several days' duration, which accounts for the different cohorts of county voters from one election to another. At the same time some political considerations can be discerned. The turnover tended to affect the performance of parties at the polls differentialy. The 'absentee' voters of 1702 in Cheshire and Westmorland had voted disproportionately Whig in 1701; those of 1715 in Kent had mainly supported the Tories in 1713. As Norma Landau concluded, 'evidently prudential participation was the hallmark of the partially independent voter. These voters could not be persuaded to change their political allegiance; they could be persuaded either to vote for the party of their choice or not to vote at all'. Not that prudence was necessarily the only motive. Disillusion with one's own party could lead to abstention rather than conversion. Abstention from voting can be every bit as much of a political choice as actually casting a vote, as anybody who has tried to mobilise partisans to vote for a party which is experiencing unpopularity amongst its traditional supporters will testify. Another indication that the turnover of voters in counties did not necessarily indicate that they were not politicised is the fact that the gentry, who were presumably politically aware, were not inclined to turn out in proportionately higher numbers than lesser freeholders. On the contrary, Geoffrey Holmes discovered that only 30 per cent of the Hampshire gentry polled there in 1710, while a mere 39 per cent voted at the same election in Suffolk. " These would indeed be 'staggering 10 11

Challinor, 'Politics in Cheshire', p. 209. I am indebted to Dr. P. E. Murrell for her analysis of Kent poll books of 1713 and

1715. 12

J. A. Phillips, Electoral Behaviour in Unreformed England (Princeton, 1982),pp.95-6. By using poll books as though they were electoral registers I greatly exaggerated the degree of turnover in boroughs analysed in my Tory and Whig: The Struggle in the Constituencies, 170t-iTl5 (1970), pp. 18-19. There is in fact no way of knowing how stable borough electorates were before nineteenth-century electoral registration, except perhaps from registers of freemen in boroughs where they alone could vote. 14 Norma Landau, 'Independence, Deference and Voter Participation: The Behaviour of the Electorate in Early Eighteenth-Century Kent', Historical Journal, XXII, (1979), 567. 15 Holmes, The Electorate and the National Will, p. 22; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, p. 22. 13

50 Britain in the First Age of Party figures' if they held good, implying that the lesser freeholders were more inclined to vote than the gentry. However, there are reasons for doubting their total validity. The substantial gentry of any county invariably held land in adjacent counties too. The land tax commissioners for Suffolk, which Geoffrey Holmes used as the basis of his calculation for that country, overlap significantly with those of other East Anglian counties. How significant this could be for electoral turnout is suggested by the assumption made in 1689 that the poll for Norfolk occurring the same day as that for Suffolk had cost a candidate in the latter contest 300 votes.16 A higher proportion of a county's commission of the peace seems to have been resident voters. Of 206J.P.S for Kent in 1713, 111, or 54 per cent, voted for knights of the shire at the general election. Since eight of the remaining 95 were dead, while 18 lived out of the county, then the turnout of resident justices was approximately 62 per cent.17 This is significantly, but not staggeringly, below the estimated turnouts of around 75 per cent in county contests in Anne's reign.18 Even so the fact that the county elites did not show more enthusiasm for polling than the average forty-shilling freeholder lends some support to the view that the electorate as a whole was genuinely partisan in the first age of party. The aspect of electoral behaviour revealed by poll books which seemed most to uphold the view that voters behaved autonomously rather than deferentially was the tendency of a significant minority to switch parties from one election to another. For example, of the freeholders who polled in the Cheshire and Westmorland elections of 1701 and 1702, 13.5 per cent and 25 per cent respectively changed their votes at the second contest.19 The majority of these voted Whig in 1701 and Tory in 1702, which was in line with the national 'swing'. Indeed most cross party transfers from one election to another corresponded with general trends. Initial interpretations of this phenomenon concluded that it was caused by the clash of issues generated by the parties. The struggle between Tories and Whigs was not confined to the elite but penetrated deep into a divided society. Questions concerning Jacobitism and the Protestant succession, the Church and Dissent, Peace 16 P. E. Murrell, 'Suffolk: The Political Behaviour of the County and its Parliamentary Boroughs from the Exclusion Crisis to the Accession of the House of Hanover' (Newcastle University, Ph.D., 1982), p. 185. Dr. Murrell also indicates the extent of plural voting between Suffolk and its boroughs, and suggests that this too might have accounted for the absence of 'quality' voters in the county poll books. Landau, 'Independence, Deference and Voter Participation', pp. 569, 570. 18 Holmes, The Electorate and the National Will, p. 21; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, p. 21. Turnout in London varied from 62 per cent to 92 per cent between 1690 and 1715, the average being 72 per cent. G. S. De Krey, A Fractured Society: The Politics of London in the Pint Age of Party, 1688-1715 (Oxford, 1985), p. 249. 19 Challinor, 'Politics in Cheshire', p. 207; Speck, Gray and Hopkinson, 'Computer Analysis of Poll Books', p. 83.

The Electorate in the First Age oj Party 51 and War, were hotly debated in sermons, pamphlets, poems on affairs of state, broadsides, newspapers and prints. These could be aimed specifically at the electorate, and even at voters in particular constituencies. They brought home the party controversy to the remotest elector. Such appeals sustained party divisions and reinforced the partisanship of certain groups of voters. Thus the bulk of the gentry and of the Anglican clergy remained stalwart to the Tory cause, while most Dissenters were consistent Whigs. A large number of less partisan voters, however, changed sides as they were variously persuaded by the party propagandists that the Church or the succession was in danger, or that the Whigs were warmongers, or the Tories were ready to sell out to the French, or that other issues were at stake. This interpretation of cross party transfers has, however, been criticised from various quarters. Professor John Phillips has argued that 'modern electors who change parties between elections are often drawn from the most apathetic and uninformed segment of the electorate, and it seems highly likely that their eighteenth-century counterparts were cast from a similar mould'.20 Dr. J. C. D. Clark has also asserted that 'a large floating vote was more probably evidence against a high level of autonomous popular political involvement and commitment and a measure of the problems which those very new phenomena, the Whig and Tory parties, had to face in their efforts to mobilise a still relatively uninformed electorate'.21 There is in fact disagreement amongst political scientists as to whether or not cross party transfers of votes occur amongst voters who are more or less politically aware. Studies of British voting behaviour more recent than that cited by Professor Phillips incline to the view that those who transfer from one party to another at successive elections are 'as knowledgeable and interested as consistent electors'.22 Insofar as modern behavioural models can be applied to early modern electors, this conclusion seems to apply to those in the first age of party. By 1715, after all, the electorate had been subjected to canvassing by Tories and by Whigs at 16 general elections held over a period of 35 years. That was 20

Phillips, Electoral Behaviour, p. 21. Clark, English Society, p. 18. 22 R. J. Benewick, et al., "The Floating Voter and the Liberal View of Representation', Political Studies, XVII (1969), 194. CompareH. T. Himmelweit, etal., How VotersDecide (1981), pp. 41-2: 'There was no significant difference in the degree of interest reported by the floating voters and that reported by people who consistently voted either Labour or Conservative' over the period 1962 to 1974. See also B. Sarlvik and I. Crewe, Decade of Dealignment (Cambridge, 1983), p. 262, which shows how very specific issues persuaded people to change from Labour to Conservative between the general elections of 1974 and 1979. I am indebted to Professor H. Berrington of the University of Newcastle upon Tyne for these references. Professor Phillips cited J. Blondel, Voters, Parties and Leaders (1963), which based its conclusions on surveys of electoral behaviour in the 1950s. 21

52 Britain in the First Age of Party surely ample time in which to establish party images, political stereotypes and electoral expectations based on experience. One indication of this is that the vast majority of voters cast their votes along party lines. In London, which returned four members to Parliament, the electors had four votes, one for each seat. When eight candidates stood, four Tories and four Whigs, there were several possible permutations of voting, from casting one Tory and three Whig votes to voting for three Tory candidates and one Whig. In fact most gave four votes to the Tories or four to the Whigs. Most English constituencies returned two M.P.s, and voters had two votes. Again, they could have given one to a Tory and one to a Whig, but when four candidates stood, two for each party, the majority of votes were cast in appropriate pairs. When three candidates stood, two for one party and one for the other, the pattern was less clear cut, since some voters were reluctant to use only one of their votes, and would cast one for the single candidate and the other for one of his rivals. Even then the party preferences of most voters stood out from the number of those prepared to poll singly, the so-called 'plumpers'. There are even signs that, as election succeeded election, fewer and fewer voters were inclined to split their votes between the parties. This is discernible when only three candidates stood. In Buckinghamshire, for instance, there were three contests between 1701 and 1705, at each of which two Whigs stood against a Tory. The number of freeholders voting for the Tory and one of the Whigs was 379 in 1701; 389 in 1702; and 271 in 1705. As the number of split votes fell by 1705, so the number of plumpers rose from 1,327 in 1701 to 1,574 in 1702 and 1,852 in 1705. Moreover higher turnouts at successive elections meant that the proportions of split votes dropped dramatically, from 10.6 per cent of the 3,554 voting in 1701 to 5.9 per cent of the 4,519 who polled in 1705. When four candidates stood the tendency for cross-voting to decline could be even more dramatic. In Buckinghamshire the proportion of freeholders splitting their votes fell to 4.9 per cent in the general election of 1713. In Kent at the same election 5,033 freeholders polled of whom 184, or 3.7 per cent, cross voted. At the next general election held in 1715 6,270 voters appeared, of whom only 179 split their votes between the parties, less than three per cent. Kent was thus a highly polarised county at the accession of George I. There was nevertheless a significant floating vote between the 1713 and 1715 elections. Of 2,494 freeholders known to have polled at both, 363, or 14.5 per cent, changed their votes from one party to another. Dr. Norma Landau has raised a serious objection to the notion that these changes indicate a genuinely independent transfer of party allegiance. She points out that those who followed the national trend from Tory to Whig were not evenly distributed throughout the county but were heavily concentrated in areas susceptible to the influence of the

The Electorate in the First Age of Party 53 government. Thus 148 of the 278 who switched from the Tories to the Whigs, some 53 per cent, resided in Chatham, Deptford, Gillingham, Gravesend, Greenwich and Woolwich. As she puts it, 'the residents of these six parishes were the chief beneficiaries of the installations of the national government in the administrative county of Kent'. Seven other boroughs which also benefited from government agencies, mainly the Admiralty, likewise displayed a disproportionate tendency to follow the national swing. This leads Dr. Landau to conclude that 'in Kent, the floating voter was buoyed upon the waves of governmental influence'. Not all such voters, however, swam with the prevailing tide. Some 85, 23 per cent of those who switched sides, transferred their allegiances from Whig to Tory between 1713 and 1715. Only three of these had their abodes in the parishes which Dr. Landau identified as the main centres of those who swung the other way. Otherwise their distribution does not appear to have been particularly significant. It is true that seven lived in Maidstone, but then that town also supplied six voters who switched from Tory to Whig. The rest were distributed throughout 42 parishes, 31 of which supplied a single voter each who changed his allegiance from Whig to Tory. The concentration of those who changed the other way in a dozen or so parishes appears to have been unique to Kent. Even in that county the rest were distributed throughout 51 parishes, 33 of which sent only one voter to the polls, who voted Tory in 1713 and Whig in 1715. This seems to have been much more typical of other counties. In Buckinghamshire 211 of the 1766 electors who polled in 1705 and again in 1710 changed sides completely: 147 followed the prevailing swing from Whig to Tory, while 64, or 30 per cent of the floating voters, changed their vote in the reverse direction. Those who went with the Court were not concentrated in a handful of parishes but were scattered through 63 of the 120 or so parishes which provided voters who polled twice. Only one parish sent more than ten on both occasions, while four sent more than five. A similar pattern is discernible in Hampshire between 1705 and 1710, where 288 voters transferred from one party to the other, 229 from Whig to Tory and 59 from Tory to Whig. Those transferring from Whig to Tory were distributed through 66 of the county's 672 parishes, while those moving the opposite direction came from 34. Only six parishes sent 10 or more to the polls who transferred votes between elections. These six accounted for 86 of the 288, but the only one with a significant government interest, Portsmouth, actually produced 12 who changed from Tory to Whig, i.e. they switched in the contrary direction to the Court. Again in Suffolk at the same two elections 241 freeholders voted for one party's candidates at the first and the other's at the second. Of these 170 transferred their votes from Whig to Tory and 71, some 29 per 23

Landau, 'Independence, Deference and Voter Participation', pp. 565-6.

54 Britain in the First Age of Party cent, from Tory to Whig. Those who went with the national swing from Whig to Tory were distributed throughout 91 parishes, only three of which were the abodes often or more such voters, Bury St. Edmunds, Mildenhall and Sudbury accounting for 39 of the 170. Bury, moreover, was a populous town, and in addition to its 19 voters who changed from Whig to Tory it also supplied four who switched the other way. It seems possible, therefore, that the high concentration of floating voters in the naval dockyards of Kent was to say the least unusual. They could even have been Admiralty employees who knew which side of their bread was buttered. The government moreover had very little influence over those larger boroughs which Geoffrey Holmes included among his 'weather-vane' constituencies which pointed to the prevailing wind of public opinion. 4 Far and away the most important of these was London. In the most sophisticated investigation of any constituency to appear in print to date Dr. G. S. De Krey has demonstrated how the voters shifted their allegiances during the first age of party: 25 In 1682 the liverymen of the substantial companies did not incline noticeably towards either party . . . On the other hand Whig candidates did attract support then from more of the artisan companies than did the T o r i e s . . . By the last four years of Anne's reign, however, the alignment of the guilds between the parties' parliamentary candidates had altered remarkably. In the polls of 1710 and 1713, the liveries of ten of the seventeen substantial companies favoured the Whigs, and the number of artisan companies inclined towards the Tories had almost doubled since 1682.

De Krey attributes this realignment not to the influence of the Court but to a genuine change in the power bases of the two parties in the capital. During the 1680s the Whigs were the party of the outsiders trying to muscle in on the trade monopolised by the royally chartered companies. Consequent upon the Revolution they became the party of the new moneyed interest and dropped their populist stance and with it their support among the artisan companies. The City Tories, who now felt themselves to be the outsiders, courted the constituencies abandoned by the Whigs. Thus a significant change in electoral behaviour in the capital owed much to the perception of their own interests by the electors and very little to the intervention of the government. The government did have electoral influence in some boroughs. Thus the Post Office employed a significant proportion of the voters of Harwich, while the dockyards at Portsmouth and Weymouth gave the Admiralty some say in elections there. How much say the Court could command in such boroughs is a matter of some controversy. Professor 24 Holmes, The Electorate and the National Will, p. 7; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, p. 7. 25 De Krey, Fractured Society, p. 167.

The Electorate in the First Age of Party

55

Robert Walcott concluded from his survey of the constituencies that there were no fewer than 24 'government boroughs' which between them returned 48 M.P.s to Westminster. 26 Yet the Court could by no means rely on the votes of all these men. On the contrary, at the general election of 1713, when the ministry was working wholeheartedly for the return of Tory candidates, no fewer than 20 Whigs were returned from these boroughs. The direct influence of the government was therefore limited. Indirectly, however, the Court exercised a powerful effect on the outcome of elections. In 1734 it became clear that candidates backed by the Court could obtain a majority of seats in the House of Commons even when a majority of the electorate clearly supported the opposition. Walpolc survived the general election of that year despite the unpopularity of his ministry because enough of his supporters could ensure their return for boroughs with small electorates notwithstanding that in counties and large cities, where public opinion still counted, ministerial candidates were trounced. This result finally revealed that the electoral system no longer produced a Parliament which was representative of the people. One result of this was that the opposition gave up the unequal struggle. In subsequent elections the incidence of contests fell sharply. The transition from a situation in which the electorate was the chief determinant of the party composition of the House of Commons to one in which the key element was the role of the Court was among the most crucial developments in the electoral history of the early eighteenth century. The outstanding problem is, when and how had this change come about? The three elections held during the Exclusion crisis most certainly did not produce results favourable to the Court. The outcome of the first, held in March 1679, cannot be precisely ascertained, partly because party lines were still fluid, and partly because there were a high proportion of absentees in the key division on the Exclusion bill. Nevertheless, when the exclusionists mustered 218 M.P.s while their opponents could only muster 137, there can be no doubt that the Court had been defeated at the polls in the spring. By October the situation was much clearer, for most M.P.s had become identifiable as Tories or as Whigs. The outcome of the second Exclusion election was a trouncing for the Court, the result being a majority of 90 or so for the Whigs. Eighteen months later the result was if anything even more of a defeat for the Court, with a majority of over a hundred listing with the opposition. The proportion of the House returned directly on the government's interest in these three elections fluctuated between two and four per cent, while a further one per cent of 26

9.

R. Walcott, English Politics in the Early Eighteenth Century (Oxford, 1956), pp. 36-

56 Britain in the First Age of Party the seats were influenced by the government. After the general election of 1685, however, the proportions were 16 and ten per cent respectively. In other words, something like a quarter of the borough representatives in James II's Parliament were to some extent beholden to the government for their seats. The reason for this phenomenal increase, which was quite disproportionate to any other House of Commons before or after the Revolution, was the direct interference by the government in borough affairs. In the aftermath of the Exclusion crisis some 99 parliamentary boroughs received new charters. The aim had been quite simply to annihilate the Whigs in these constituencies, and it achieved remarkable success. Whig candidates somehow managed to win both seats at Buckingham, despite the purge of the corporation, and one seat at Guildford after a close poll. Elsewhere, however, they lost heavily, though not without putting up a fight. There were at least 78 contests in 1685, which compares well with the average of 83 during the Exclusion elections. When the results were declared, nevertheless, only 57 Whigs had been returned. This was not quite as low as the 40 on the King's alleged black list, but was not much more than a tenth of the House of Commons, where they had commanded a majority four years before.27 A crucial conclusion to emerge from any analysis of the 1685 election, however, is that the outcome was by no means due entirely to the machinations of the Court. The Whigs also lost in the counties and large boroughs, which were less amenable to governmental manipulation and more susceptible to public opinion. During the second and third Exclusion Parliaments they had outnumbered the Tories two to one in the county seats. By contrast, in 1685, the counties returned 84 Tories and only eight Whigs. The Whigs scraped a mere four seats in the larger boroughs. It is clear that a genuine swing to the Tories in the open constituencies was at least as important as the Court's rigging of the boroughs in the generating of the overwhelmingly Tory majority in James H's Parliament. The point does not appear to have registered with James himself. Quite the reverse, he seems to have persuaded himself that a repetition of the purging of the corporations, this time in favour of candidates who would repeal the Test and Corporation Acts, would produce a parliamentary majority for that purpose in the teeth of a hostile public opinion. The curious public opinion poll which he conducted to test attitudes towards his policy was far from encouraging. As John Carswell concluded from an analysis of the results, 'although James had a not inconsiderable body of support, he had something like two-thirds of the

27

The House of Commons, 1660-1690, ed. B. D. Henning (3 vols., 1983) [hereafter cited as HP 1660-90], I, 29-84.

The Electorate in the First Age of Party

57

landowning classes against him, and half of those were not afraid to say so'.28 Yet as J. R. Jones observes, it was a poll of gentry opinion.29 Although this revealed that the counties would not go along with repealing the Test Act, this did not necessarily commit the boroughs, and by 1685 these outnumbered the county seats by four to one. Moreover, where the counties had electorates of four and even five figures, most boroughs had under 500 voters and many fewer than 100. Of the several varieties of borough franchises in the unreformed electoral system, two in particular offered promising scope for royal regulation. One was that obtaining in 20 or so boroughs where the corporation alone had the right to vote. These were among the smallest, often with no more than a dozen aldermen and two dozen councillors forming the entire electorate. The other was the more numerous type, where freemen voted. Although these tended to have large electorates of over 1,000 control of admission to the freemen's register was often in the hands of the local corporation. Control of both types of borough, therefore, involved essentially getting a grip on their corporations. Since the Crown had the authority to recall charters and issue new ones actually nominating mayors, aldermen and councillors then the solution seemed straightforward. James issued 32 new charters and regulated 65 corporations in an attempt to ensure the return of a parliamentary majority sympathetic to his cause. He also appointed, in November 1687, a commission of regulators for the corporations, who directed teams of agents to investigate the electoral possibilities in some 200 boroughs, and to advise on the purging of disaffected burgesses and their replacement with loyalists. In some 60 boroughs this involved removing men whose support had been carefully cultivated by Charles II to build up a Tory majority for James's first Parliament, and installing their local rivals, often former Exclusionists, in their place. By March 1688 over 1,200 men had been removed and replaced in the corporations. By September the Court had lists of 171 approved candidates to stand in selected constituencies in a general election that was regarded as imminent. In the event, of course, nobody stood. When James received intelligence of the Dutch invasion plans he panicked and threw the whole electoral machinery into reverse. Consequently it was never put to the test of a genuine trial at the polls, and so how successful it might have been will never be known. The History of Parliament for these years accepts Professor Jones's optimistic assessment of James's chances of success. According to its editor, Professor B. D. Henning, 'it is at least a possibility that it would have succeeded'.30 28 29 30

J. Carswell, The Descent on England (1969), p. 240. J. R. Jones, The Revolution of 1688 in England (1972), pp. 128-75. HP 1660-1690, I, 42.

58

Britain in the First Age of Party Against this is the evidence from detailed studies of certain constituencies which suggests that James's efforts had still a long way to go before they could produce the result he desired. Bury St. Edmunds, for instance, was a corporation borough, one of the type most amenable to regulation. Yet a thorough analysis of the campaign to control the town casts considerable doubt on the effectiveness ofjames's measures." It took two purges and the replacement of the town clerk and deputy recorder, as well as the threat of a new charter, to produce a majority of the 36 members of the corporation ready to support royal nominees in the proposed general election. As Dr. Murrell concludes, 'this raises serious doubts as to whether, in the other, more numerous, boroughs, where the freemen possessed the vote also . . . the progress of the Crown's agents can be considered to have been sufficiently advanced to have coped easily with a pending general election in the autumn of 1688'.32 This conclusion is strengthened by D. H. Hosford's study of the attempts at regulation in Nottingham, Newark, East Retford and Derby. 'Even if the revolution had not occurred', he maintains, 'it is by no means clear that the policy . . . would have produced acceptable parliamentary delegates'." Some contemporaries were also convinced that James required much more time than he was allowed to complete his preparations. Early in 1688 one observer noted:34 They will have a Parliament per fas et nefas and truly I think they cannot miss to have one, though not this summer, for many of the corporations must be modelled over and over again as they have now done with some of them. But they take a most effectual way by reducing the number of electors till they can be sure of a majority . . . At Tewkesbury for instance the power of electing is put into the hands of thirteen . . . But if there could be any end of their modelling all that would not do their business for even these 13 will fail them. But they declare they will make the number of electors but three and that two shall chose the third.

If the only serious effort by the Crown in the whole period actually to pack a Parliament was not manifestly destined to succeed, then the dismantling of the commissioners for regulating corporations in 1688 scarcely left the post-Revolution regime with the means of manipulating parliamentary majorities. On the contrary, William Ill's ministers clearly lost the general election of 1698, while the outcome of the two elections held in 1701 was not unequivocally favourable to the Court. As James Craggs commented after the second, 'in three years 31

P. E. Murrell, 'Bury St. Edmunds and the Campaign to Pack Parliament, 1687-8', B.I.H.R., LIV (1981), 188-206. 32 Ibid., pp. 188-9. 33 D. H. Hosford, Nottingham, Nobles and the North (Hamden, Conn., 1976), p. 58. 34 Nottingham U. L., PWA (Portland [Bentinck] MSS.) 2145: 21 Feb. 1688.

The Electorate in the First Age of Party 59 we have had three Parliaments, great struggling in point of party, and notwithstanding all the management of the court, which leans entirely to the interest of the Whigs, yet the Church (or Country) party have at this time an actual majority in the House of Commons'/ Nevertheless some contemporaries were convinced that the Court would turn the scales in a general election. 'That party whom the Court has favoured', observed the third Earl of Shaftesbury in 1701,36 have obtained their victory in almost all parts, by what means or practices, lawful or unlawful, moderate or violent I will not say. The justices of the peace, the sheriffs, the officers of the militia of all cities and counties, with all the rest of the civil and military offices were in the hands of the high church party, and the changes reserved to the very instant of the elections, the more to strike a terror and break the measure of those who, depending on some moderation, had not armed themselves, nor the people they influenced, against such an attack on all those that were friends of the late Government.

'Both parties talk very confidently of a majority', noted James Lowther in 1710, 'but the times are so corrupt they must know very little that don't think a court can give either side a majority'. Lord Cowper advised George I along very similar lines in 1715. 'The parties are so near an equality and the generality of the world so much in love with the advantages a king of Great Britain has to bestow', the Lord Chancellor advised the new King, 'that 'tis wholly in your Majesty's power by showing your favour in due time (before the elections) to give which of them you please a clear majority in all succeeding parliaments'.38 Dr. Linda Colley has recently endorsed Cowper's opinion. In her view Court activity rather than electoral choice was responsible for the triumph of the Whigs over the Tories in the general election of 1715. Observing that, although the Tories retained a majority of county seats, these were offset by 'seventy-four petty boroughs, whose voters formed less than 1.5 per cent of the country's total electorate', she concludes:39 The fact that the Whig performance in these boroughs was almost a mirrorimage of the 1713 result shows that even at this stage their voters were ductile, and that the unreformed system tended to bestow a majority of seats on that group of men to which the Crown had already given political predominance. 35

B. L., Add. MS. 22851, f. 121: Craggs to Pitt, 25 Feb. 1702. Original Letters of Locke, Algernon Sidney and Lord Shaftesbury, ed. T. Forster (1830), pp. 179-80: Shaftesbury to Furly, 10 Aug. 1702. 37 Cumbria R. O. (Carlisle), Lonsdale MSS.: Lowther to Gilpin, 2 Sept. 1710. 38 John, Lord Campbell, Lives of the Lord Chancellors (8 vols., 1845-69), IV, 428. 39 Linda Colley, In Defiance of Oligarchy: The Tory Party, M\4-\lf>Q (Cambridge, 1982), p. 120. 36

60

Britain in the First Age of Party

While my own analysis of the 1715 election also concluded that the Court had helped the Whigs in many boroughs with small electorates, it seemed to me that they had picked up a significant number of seats in constituencies where public opinion counted.40 It is true that, at the end of the day, the Tories retained a majority of county seats, but the Whigs had the lead over the Tories in boroughs with over 1,000 electors. Furthermore, in those constituencies with over 500 voters which actually went to the polls, the Whig candidates were more successful than their rivals. Ninety such seats were contested, resulting in 50 Whigs being returned and 40 Tories.41 But it was, admittedly, a narrow lead. There were ominous signs soon after the general election that the Tories could reverse it. Thus the by-election consequent upon the abortive contest in Leicestershire held in April 1715 gave the Tories a comfortable majority in that county, while another in May necessitated by the death of a Whig knight of the shire for Essex returned a Tory, albeit by a narrow margin. Perhaps more ominously for the government, when a by-election was held in Northumberland in February 1716 to replace the convicted Jacobite Thomas Forster, who had been expelled from the House, the ministerial candidate scraped home with a majority of only 23 votes out of 1,641 cast.42 That the ministry was convinced its electoral base was insecure rather than firm was revealed by the introduction of the Septennial bill in April, and by the arguments used for and against extending the interval between general elections to seven years. Moving the bill Thomas Liddell, so far from assuming that even the smaller constituencies contained a majority of safe seats for the government, claimed that 'the Electors and people of all the boroughs in England [had] been, for several years past, both brib'd and preached into the Pretender's Interest, and a dislike of the Protestant succession'.43 Sir Robert Raymond, opposing the measure, argued that not daring to call a new Parliament carries along with it a supposition to the dishonour of this House; for it supposes that another House of Commons would act differently from the present; which is to confess that this House does not truly represent the people; that they and their representatives are of different minds; and that, if they were to chuse again, they would chuse men of other principles, of other sentiments.

Thus the promoters of the Septennial Act, and its opponents, were 40

W. A. Speck, The General Election of 1715', E.H.R., XC (1975), 507-522. The House of Commons, 1715-1754, ed. R. Sedgwick (2 vols., 1970), I, 79. 42 Ibid., pp. 241, 275, 294. 43 The History and Proceedings of the House of Commons from the Restoration to the present time, ed. R. Chandler (14 vols., 1742-44), V, 71, my italics. 44 Ibid., p. 97. 41

The Electorate in the First Age of Party 61 agreed that in 1716 the electorate could still sway the balance of parties in the Commons. It has been claimed that debates in the House were unaffected by considerations of electors outside.45 Again both sides in the debate on the Septennial bill made the opposite assumption. William Shippen, defending the Triennial Act, maintained that 'it gave them frequent opportunities of changing their members when they did not approve their behaviour, and was of advantage to the publick, in making them act with more than ordinary caution and circumspection'. Sir Richard Stecle, on the other hand, disliked triennial Parliaments precisely because 'the approach of an ensuing election terrify'd the members into a servile management'.47 By prolonging the interval between elections to seven years the Whigs did not so much control the electorate as evade it. During the interval they used government patronage to consolidate their hold on the smaller constituencies. In the next election, held in 1722, the Tories did their utmost to gain victory at the polls, but their failure to do so, despite good results in the counties and larger boroughs, condemned them to permanent opposition and thus spelled the end of the first age of party. Perhaps nothing contributed more to the achievement of political stability which marks the age of Walpole than the ending of triennial elections. Two great issues which had divided the parties since the Exclusion crisis, the succession and religion, did not, after all, disappear overnight. On the contrary, some would argue that Jacobitism posed the single greatest threat to stable politics until 1746, while the preservation of the alliance between the Church and State against its enemies, whether Roman Catholic, dissenting, deist or atheist, remained central to political debate throughout the eighteenth century. 48 That Walpole was able to contain these divisive issues, and even preside over a growing consensus that the Revolution settlement and the Protestant succession to the House of Hanover should be preserved as the foundations of the constitution, was in no small part owing to the fact that elections were no longer fought on these issues 45 Clark, English Society, p. 19. Compare, however, p. 336, where he contradicts this by stating that in 1772 'M.P.s were reluctant to offend the Dissenting vote' because of 'the prospect of a genera] election'. At that time an election was not expected for three years. Lord North went to the country in 1774, a year earlier than was necessary under the Septennial Act, in order to cash in on the popularity of his policy towards the American colonies. On this basis a general election was always imminent during the period of the Triennial Act, and the House of Commons was reluctant to offend the electorate in every session. 46 Challinor, 'Politics in Cheshire', p. 78. 47 Ibid., p. 85. 48 This is the most significant point made in Clark, English Society, passim.

62 Britain in the First Age of Party every other year. The Septennial Act bought the Whigs time to consolidate their grip on the country's institutions, and to cash in on the growing prosperity which demographic trends were helping to generate.4 49

G. Holmes, 'The Achievement of Stability: The Social Context of Politics from the 1680s to the age of Walpole', The Whig Ascendancy, ed. J. Cannon (1980), pp. 1-22; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 249-75.

Bibliographical Note The volumes of the History of Parliament for the years 1660-1690 and 1715-1754 are indispensible mines of information: The House of Commons, 1660-1690, ed. B. D. Henning (3 vols., 1983); The House of Commons, 1715-1754, ed. R. Sedgwick (2 vols., 1970). Those for 16901715, currently being edited by Eveline Cruickshanks, are eagerly awaited. Meanwhile the gap can to some extent be filled by W. A. Speck, Tory and Whig: The Struggle in the Constituencies, 1701-1715 (1970),and Geoffrey Holmes, The Electorate and the National Will in the First Age of Party (Lancaster, 1975); Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 1-33.

4

The Precursors of Political Radicalism in Augustan Britain* H. T. Dickinson

Historians interested in the study of political radicalism in early modern Britain have, not surprisingly, paid little attention to the period between the Glorious Revolution and the accession of George III. Their attention has been drawn either to the 1640s and 1650s when, for a brief span, Levellers, Diggers and Republicans flourished or to the later eighteenth century when the activities of Wilkes and the impact of the American, French and Industrial Revolutions encouraged a succession of extra-parliamentary movements dedicated to the radical reform of the constitution. When studying the Augustan age, that is, the late Stuart and early Hanoverian period, most historians have been preoccupied with high rather than low politics because they have been most interested in tracing the rise of oligarchy and the growth of political stability. Recent work on the Augustan age has stressed the conservative nature of the Revolution Settlement, has traced the dominance in Parliament and in the constituencies of parties led by the propertied elite, and has revealed the means by which a narrow oligarchy, proclaiming a rather conservative Whiggism, came to monopolize executive power and to exercise very considerable influence over Parliament and even over the electorate.1 This preoccupation with party rivalry and with the growth of oligarchy in the Augustan age is entirely understandable. These were clearly the most important and the most significant political developments between the 1680s and the early 1760s. None the less, in recent years a few historians have been prepared to challenge this heavy concentration on high politics and this concern with the political activities of the ruling oligarchy. These scholars have insisted on the need to appreciate the efforts of those who resisted the growth of *I am grateful to my colleague, Dr F. D. Dow, for very helpful criticisms of an earlier draft of this essay. 1 See, e.g., Holmes, British Politics; Britain after the Glorious Revolution, 1689-1714, ed. G. Holmes (1969); W. A. Speck, Tory and Whig: The Struggle in the Constituencies, 17011715 (1970); idem, Stability and Strife: England, 1714-1760 (1977); B. W. Hill, The Growth of Parliamentary Parties, 1689-1742 (1976); J. H. Plumb, The Growth of Political Stability in England, 1675-1725 (1967); J. P. Kenyon, Revolution Principles (Cambridge, 1977); H. T. Dickinson, Liberty and Property: Political Ideology in Eighteenth-Century Britain (1977); The Whig Ascendancy, ed. J. Cannon (1981); andj. C. D. Clark, English Society, 1688-1832 (Cambridge, 1985).

64 Britain in the First Age oj Party oligarchy and of those who laid the foundation for the rapid flowering of radical activity from the later 1760s. Their research has shown that during the Augustan age the roots of a radical ideology were nourished, a political platform critical of the ruling oligarchy was built up, and the means of enlisting popular support for radical change were beginning to be developed and exploited. A large scale and sustained radical movement failed to appear, but the essential elements of such a political movement — ideology, platform, organization and popular support — can certainly be detected in Augustan Britain. Their potential was not fully developed and the different elements were never properly integrated before the later eighteenth century. A radical ideology of universal and inalienable natural rights had appeared in the late seventeenth century, but it was many more decades before support for these natural rights was translated into demands for positive political rights. The opposition platform in early Hanoverian Britain did learn to challenge the ruling oligarchy on many fronts, but it failed to rid itself of its attachment to a propertied franchise and it was too cautious to commit itself to a demand for universal manhood suffrage. The harnessing of the middling orders behind this opposition platform was occasionally achieved in the earlier eighteenth century, but the attachment of the middling orders to a radical platform required the full developments of a bourgeois culture which was just beginning to emerge at this time. Moreover, these various sources of radicalism remained disparate elements before the later eighteenth century. The doctrine of universal and inalienable natural rights appealed to only a small coterie of radical Whig intellectuals, who were mainly active in the 1690s. This doctrine was too radical for the Tory and Country elements which played such a large part in developing a sophisticated critique of the corrupt tactics and authoritarian tendencies of the ruling oligarchy in early Hanoverian Britain. For its part, this opposition campaign only occasionally rallied mass support from the people 'outof-doors'. Throughout the Augustan era the middling orders and, to a lesser degree, the lower orders were becoming increasingly disenchanted with the policies and political tactics of the patrician elite and they were also beginning to develop their own forms of political organization, but they did not adopt the doctrine of natural rights before the late eighteenth century and they had not yet fully absorbed the political programme of the parliamentary opposition. 2

The Roots of a Radical Ideology The Tories, who still made up a majority of the political nation after the 2

See the works listed in the Bibliographical Note.

The Precursors oj Political Radicalism

65

Glorious Revolution, remained attached to a sophisticated ideology of order until well into the eighteenth century. Although most Tories reluctantly accepted William III in the place of James II, they did not readily abandon their support for the doctrines of divine right, indefeasible hereditary succession, non-resistance and passive obedience. Ranged against such notions however was a significant body of Whigs whose commitment to limited monarchy, to the rights of Parliament and to the rule of law made even the most conservative of them appear to be dangerous radicals in the eyes of the Tories. A minority of these Whigs did develop an even more radical ideology, while John Locke, the most intellectually sophisticated of them all, advanced ideas which were inherently revolutionary. The natural rights ideology of late eighteenth-century radicalism could undoubtedly trace its origins to the Whigs of a century earlier and to the radical Whigs and to John Locke in particular. The ideology of the mainstream Whigs of the late seventeenth century was certainly more liberal than that of their Tory opponents. All genuine Whigs rejected absolute and arbitrary monarchy and they insisted that the authority of the monarch must be limited by the power of Parliament, especially in matters of legislation and revenue raising. In their view ultimate sovereignty lay not with the monarch alone, but was located in a combined legislature of King, Lords and Commons. The Whigs also claimed that all subjects should possess certain civil liberties, chiefly the rights to life, liberty and property, which no government could infringe without due process of law. In the last resort subjects could forcibly resist an arbitrary tyrant who sought to subvert the constitution and who endeavoured to destroy the essential liberties of the subject. In making such claims the Whigs mainly appealed to England's ancient constitution and to the traditional rights of Englishmen. They did not claim to be demanding new rights or to be seeking a radical overhaul of the constitution. Indeed, most Whigs regarded as dangerous and absurd the notion that the labouring poor should have any voice in the decision-making processes of the state. The poor might be allowed to enjoy the benefits of the rule of law under a limited monarchy, but they must be denied the positive right to choose their governors or to supervise the conduct of those in positions of authority. The full and positive rights of citizenship therefore were restricted to men of property. They alone were regarded as possessing the education, the leisure and the economic independence needed to cultivate those civic virtues which were required by those men who deserved to be entrusted with executive or legislative authority.3 While the majority of Whigs developed a liberal ideology which was essentially aristocratic rather than democratic, a small coterie of 3

H. T. Dickinson, Liberty and Property, chapters 2 and 4.

66 Britain in the First Age of Party advanced Whig intellectuals did propagate a much more radical ideology which was designed to confer, or at least could be construed as conferring, more extensive political rights on the mass of the adult male population. These radical Whigs assumed that all men were naturally equal in the eyes of God, that God had conferred upon them extensive and inalienable natural rights, and that the only legitimate forms of government were established by consent and must be based on the ultimate sovereignty of the people. Men only agreed to accept the authority of civil government in return for the protection of their natural and inalienable rights to life, liberty and property. Whenever a government sought to infringe these rights, by punishing criminals or raising taxes for example, then it must secure the consent of the community for such measures. This consent could be most readily obtained when the legislature incorporated some kind of representative assembly. Should the civil government betray the trust placed in it, through sustained action of a tyrannical or arbitrary nature, then the people were absolved of their duty to obey and were free to resist the government in order to defend their inalienable natural rights. They could force the government to return to the terms of the original contract or they could set up a new civil government following the dissolution of the old. Clearly, the radical Whigs claimed rights which, in the context of the times, were revolutionary. They insisted that all men possessed natural rights, that civil government must be based on some form of contract, that subjects must consent to decisions which affected their natural rights, and that, since ultimate sovereignty lay with the people, they could forcibly resist an illegitimate exercise of power by those whom the community had entrusted with authority. Perhaps most revolutionary of all was the notion that civil government was an artificial construct, made by man and sustained or undermined by human action. Civil government was not created by divine authority and religious sanctions did not dictate the nature of a subject's submission or the extent of his duties. Put in these terms, it might be concluded that the radical Whigs favoured a democratic form of government. It is not clear, however, how far this was indeed the case since the radical Whigs of the late seventeenth century did not always spell out the full implications of their ideology and modern commentators remain divided on how best to interpret their writings. These Whigs certainly put forward political notions with considerable revolutionary potential even though this potential was not fully exploited until the late eighteenth century. The radical Whigs wished to see men's natural rights converted into civil liberties. They hoped that this would have the effect of securing for every man his life (unless he committed some serious offence which justified execution), his liberty to think, speak, act and move as he wished (provided that, in doing so, he did not infringe the same rights of

The Precursors of Political Radicalism

67

his fellow men) and the possession of his labour, property and estates (unless these were required, in the form of military service or taxes for example, in order to safeguard civil society itself). Many of the radical Whigs were also particularly anxious to extend freedom of conscience. Indeed, many of them were bitterly anti-clerical and they desired to strip the Established Church of all its political, economic and social power.4 It has even been claimed that their radicalism was religious rather than political in both its intellectual origins and its overriding aims.5 It can certainly be doubted whether the radical Whigs were genuine democrats who were determined to extend positive political rights, as distinct from negative civil liberties, to all men. When they used the term 'free men', most radical Whigs appear to have meant those men who owned sufficient property to be economically independent and they were quite ready to accept a propertied franchise which restricted the vote to a minority of the adult male population. 6 Clearly, the radical Whigs of the late seventeenth century had propagated some advanced notions of the liberty of the subject, but only John Locke developed a highly theoretical and coherent political ideology with considerable revolutionary potential. Whereas most radical Whigs were content to locate sovereignty in the combined legislature of King, Lords and Commons, John Locke granted sovereignty to the legislature only so long as it did not abuse the trust placed in it by the people upon the original creation of civil government. In Locke's view ultimate sovereignty lay with the whole community which had created civil government and which could reclaim its original authority if its natural rights were threatened. While most radical Whigs were concerned simply to defend the actual decision to renounce allegiance to James II, Locke was proclaiming the right of revolution whenever there was a calculated design to subvert the constitution and to reduce the people to a state of servitude. In these circumstances the community was released from all obligations to the civil government and was completely free to choose whatever form of government best suited its needs.7 Other radical Whigs wished to restrict the right of

4

See, e.g., M. C. Jacob, The Newtonians and the English Revolution, 1688-1720 (Hassocks, 1976), chapter 6; Caroline Robbins, The Eighteenth-Century Commonwealthman (Cambridge, Mass., 1959), pp. 115-33; andj. M. Bulloch, Thomas Gordon: The 'Independent Whig' (Aberdeen, 1918). 5 Clark, English Society, pp. 277-307. 6 See, e.g., Sidney, Discourses upon Government (3rd ed., 1751), pp. 75, 423;J. Tyrrell, Bibliotheca Politica (1694), advertisement; idem, A Brief Enquiry into the Ancient Constitution and Government of England (1695), p. 4; J. Toland, The Militia Refortn'd (1698), p. 19; J. Trenchard, An Argument, Shewing that a Standing Army is inconsistent with a Free Government (1697), p. 4; and The Claims of the People of England, Essayed (1701), p. 106. J. H. Franklin, John Lockeandthe Theory of Sovereignty (Cambridge, 1978), chapter4.

68 Britain in the First Age of Party resistance to men of property, 8 but Locke was prepared to grant all men the right to resist a government which betrayed its trust; though even he was careful to suggest that it was a right which could be justified only in an emergency when it became necessary to oppose manifest acts of tyranny. It is not clear whether Locke wished to extend positive political rights to all men because he did not make any explicit statements about the franchise he favoured in England. Some modern commentators have insisted that Locke maintained that only men of property consented to the original contract which created civil government and that he therefore believed that only this minority of the community at large could participate actively in the decision-making processes of the state.9 Recently, however, several scholars have stressed the implicit radicalism of Locke's view on the question of who had the right to elect the nation's representatives to the legislature. James Tully has claimed that, in demonstrating that every man has property in his life, liberty, person, actions and possessions (however limited), Locke was implicitly extending the right to vote to every adult male. Although he does not explicitly state the criterion in the Two Treatises, Locke does assume that the natural equality of all men should be the basis of discussions on political representation. 10 Other commentators have also argued, that whereas most of Locke's political associates were explicitly exclusive in their definitions of who qualified for full membership of the political nation, he himself was consistently inclusive. By claiming that all men had a natural right to life, liberty and property, and by interpreting property to mean that every man had a property in his own labour and his owni person,11 Locke was implying that all men had a claim to active political rights. Locke therefore included all men, even servants and dependent wage labourers, as full participants in political society and excluded only children, slaves and lunatics. Unfortunately, Locke did not make his radical views on the franchise explicit and so his views were not fully understood by his contemporaries. His views were certainly seen as too radical to be

8

See, e.g., Tyrrell, Bibliotheca Politico, p. 808; and B. Hoadly, The Original and Institution of Civil Government Discuss'd (1710), p. 150. 9 See, e.g., C. B. Macpherson, 'The Social Bearing of Locke's Political Theory', Western Political Theory, VII (1954), 1-22. 10 J. Tully, A Discourse on Property (Cambridge, 1980), p. 173. 11 Ibid., chapters 5-7. 12 Judith Richards, Lotte Mulligan andj. Graham, '"Property" and "People": Political Usages of Locke and Some Contemporaries', Journal of the History of Ideas, XLII (1981), 29-51; R. Ashcraft, 'Revolutionary Politics and Locke's Two Treatises of Government: Radicalism and Lockean Political Theory', Political Theory, VIII (1980), 429-86; and idem, 'The Two Treatises and the Exclusion Crisis: The Problem of Lockean Political Theory as Bourgeois Ideology', in John Locke, ed. J. G. A. Pocock and R. Ashcraft (Los Angeles, 1980), pp. 25-114.

The Precursors of Political Radicalism 69 13 endorsed by the majority of the Whig party. Though once regarded as the philosopher of the Whig party and as the principal defender of the Glorious Revolution, Locke has recently been located on the radical fringes of the Whig party and is now perceived as a rather neglected political philosopher in his own day. Few contemporaries quoted his political works with approval and even fewer might have done so had they interpreted his work in the radical manner of some recent commentators. None the less, it is going too far to suggest that Locke had no admirers in his own day or in the decades immediately following his death. The Two Treatises had appeared in three separate editions by 1700 and many of Locke's ideas were popularized in that highly influential pamphlet, Political Aphorisms (1690), which reappeared in 1709 as Vox Populi, Vox Dei and again in 1710 as The Judgement of Whole Kingdoms and Nations.14 The contract theory was certainly debated in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. What is much more significant, of course, is the way in which the radical potential in Locke's political ideology was appreciated and extended nearly a century later by such radicals as James Burgh, Richard Price, Joseph Priestley and Thomas Paine. ' Locke's sophisticated ideas were interpreted in a straightforward literal fashion by late eighteenth-century radicals and his theoretical concepts were adopted as the ideological foundations for practical political reforms. The radicals of the later eighteenth century believed that they were merely reiterating Locke's views when they claimed that the doctrine of natural rights, the contract theory and the concept of popular sovereignty (which were all to be found in Locke's writings) were the ideological foundations of a democratic system of government and of such positive rights as universal manhood suffrage, equal electoral districts and annual Parliaments.

13 J. Dunn, 'The Politics of Locke in England and America in the Eighteenth Century', John Locke: Problems and Perspectives, ed. J. Yolton (Cambridge, 1969), chapter 4; M. P. Thompson, 'The Reception of Locke's Two Treatises of Government, 1690-1705', Political Studies, XXIV (1976), 184-91; J. P. Kenyon, The Revolution of 1688: Resistance and Contract', in Historical Perspectives, ed. N. McKcndrick (1974), pp. 43-69; idem, Revolution Principles, chapter 2; and H. T. Dickinson, Liberty and Property, pp. 125-34. 14 R. Ashcraft and M. M. Goldsmith, 'Locke, Revolution Principles, and the Formation of Whig Ideology', Historical Journal, XXVI (1983), 773-800. 15 LoisG. Schwocrer, The Declaration of Rights, 1689 (Baltimore, 1981), p. 159;andM. Goldie, 'The Revolution of 1689 and the Structure of Political Argument. An Essay and an Annotated Bibliography of Pamphlets of the Allegiance Controversy', Bulletin of Research in the Humanities, LXXXIII (1980), 473-564. 16 On Locke's impact on later eighteenth-century radicals, see I. Kramnick, 'Republican Revisionism Revisited', American Historical Review, LXXXVII (1982), 62964.

70

Britain in the First Age of Party 3

The Development of a Radical Platform Although only John Locke worked out an extended theoretical defence of natural rights in the late seventeenth century, he did not advocate practical political reforms and no group of radical Whigs built up a political platform based on a demand for a fully democratic political system. None the less there were mainstream Whigs, radical Whigs and even Tories who supported an array of practical reforms which aimed to reduce the power of the executive and to promote the liberties of the subject. To sustain these efforts appeals were made to the evidence of history, to England's ancient constitution and to the traditional rights of Englishmen rather than to the natural rights of man. Within this more conservative intellectual framework, however, various propagandists did succeed in putting forward practical proposals for limiting the authority of the government, for making the legislature more independent of the executive and more responsive to the people, and for extending the rights of the subject. Although the Revolution Settlement of 1689 was not a triumph for the radicals and was in many ways a compromise between the Whigs and the Tories, it is probably a mistake to regard it in too conservative a light. James II did lose his throne and the royal prerogative was criticized even if it was not significantly curtailed. The Declaration of Rights and the Bill of Rights did lay claim to some traditional liberties which the Crown had not fully conceded in the past. These included criticisms of the Crown's suspending and dispensing powers, the rejection of a standing army without the consent of Parliament, the right to freedom of speech in Parliament and the demand for frequent Parliaments. It is true that increasingly thereafter the main body of Whigs readily accommodated themselves to a political system which was highly aristocratic and far from democratic. The more the leading Whigs came to enjoy the benefits of office, the more willing were they to endorse a relatively conservative political settlement which left real power in the hands of a narrow, propertied oligarchy. None the less, the establishment Whigs never entirely abandoned their former principles and they remained attached to a number of liberal policies. Even as the ruling oligarchy the mainstream Whigs retained practical limits on the authority of the monarch, supported regular sessions of Parliament, paid more than lip-service to the notion of government by consent, and allowed most subjects considerable liberty of conscience and freedom of expression. The establishment Whigs created and ruthlessly exploited a vast system of patronage, but, by accepting limits on the power of the executive and by acknowledging that they were governing free men, they had established a political context in which others could voice demands for more radical political changes.

The Precursors of Political Radicalism 71 The radical Whigs had hoped to secure more constitutional innovations in 1689. During the discussions on the nature of the Revolution Settlement they put forward a number of entirely new claims, including attacks on the monarch's prerogative to summon and dissolve Parliament at will, a proposal to give judges security of tenure during good behaviour and a demand for full religious toleration for all Protestants. There were also several schemes for limiting the power of .the executive and for increasing the authority of Parliament. The radical Whigs failed to carry through a fundamental revision of the constitution in the wake of the political crisis of 1688, but this does not mean that they ceased to exist or to propagate their demands. Throughout the 1690s two radical Whig groups, the 'Calves Head' republicans and the more aristocratic coterie who met at the Grecian Tavern, provided the Whig cause with intellectual depth and political respectability. These men waged a major campaign against a standing army in 1697-99 and even helped to impose further limitations on the Crown in the Act of Settlement of 1701.17 It is also possible to detect radical Whig groups campaigning for political reforms in 1705-6 and again in the early 1720s. None the less any serious investigation into the development of a radical political platform before 1760 must examine not only the propaganda of those small coteries of radical Whigs who occasionally rose to political prominence, but must also explore the programme of the Country and Tory opposition that campaigned throughout the Augustan age for reductions in the power of the executive and the increased independence of Parliament. Only occasionally during the Augustan period did a Country party manifest itself and, even when such a party did exist, it drew the bulk of its support from men who, on most issues, were Tories. In 1711-12, for example, about 150 Tory members of the October Club briefly advocated Country policies, while for several decades after 1727 a Tory club which met at the Cocoa Tree acted as an organizing committee and as a pressure group for the Country interest. Although a Country party rarely existed, a Country attitude and a Country interest, even perhaps a coherent Country ideology and platform, did have a continuous existence throughout the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Country policies were sometimes propagated by those radical Whigs who were disenchanted by the conservative nature of the Revolution Settlement and they were sometimes supported by malcontent Whigs who hoped such policies might be a means of pushing themselves into 17

Lois G. Schwoerer, The Declaration of Rights, 1689, pp. 22-33, 159-67; M. Goldie, 'The Roots ofTrue Whiggism, 1688-1694', History of Political Thought, I (1980), 195-236; Edmund Ludlow: A Voycefrom the Watch Tower: Part Fife, 1660-1662, ed. A. B. Worden, (Camden Soc., 4th ser., XXI, 1978), Introduction; and Caroline Robbins, The Eighteenth Century Commonwealthman, chapter 4.

72 Britain in the First Age of Party office, but they were mainly advanced by the bulk of the Tory party once it had been forced into the position of a permanent opposition by the Hanoverian succession and the triumph of the Whig oligarchy. For many years The Craftsman was at the centre of a formidable array of literary and journalistic talent that mounted a scathing attack on the corrupt political methods of Robert Walpole and his ministry. It is ironic that it was attacks such as these, largely mounted by the Tories, that built up the most effective indictment of executive authority and led the way to demands for constitutional change that were to be adopted by the radicals of the later eighteenth century. Thus, the Country ideology, with significant Tory backing, did much to show how loyal patronage threatened to corrupt both Parliament and people and first advocated many of the policies designed to curtail this patronage and to purify the constitution. 8 The Country interest believed that Britain could enjoy the best system of government in the world if only the balanced constitution of King, Lords and Commons was safeguarded from the alarming threat posed to it by the growing patronage at the disposal of the executive. Whereas the royal prerogative had been successfully curtailed since 1689, anew, more insidious, danger had appeared in the form of Crown patronage which could be used to corrupt both Parliament and people. This patronage system had been created since 1689 by the financial revolution, by the deployment of large armies and navies, and by the growing bureaucracy needed to manage the national debt, to supply the armed forces and to raise the revenue needed for both. Crown patronage .enabled the executive to build up a Court and Treasury party in Parliament and to persuade peers and M.P.s to sell their political integrity and their political independence in return for places, promotion and profit. Fearing that the Court was approaching the position where it might count upon a subservient majority in Parliament - a fear that was greatly exaggerated the Country spokesmen attacked the sources of political corruption and propagated the ethic of civic virtue. Widespread and persistent criticisms were launched on the fraudulent practices of moneyed men involved in the whole system of public credit. Numerous bills were introduced to prevent many categories of placemen and pensioners from sitting in Parliament and to disfranchise revenue officers. Frequent demands were made for a citizen militia to replace the large standing or professional 18 Here I am accepting the general position put forward by D. Hayton, 'The "Country" Interest and the Party System, 1689-f. 1720', in Party and Management in Parliament, 1660-1784, ed. C. Jones (Leicester, 1984), pp. 37-85. While I now accept that the Tory party survived as a political structure well into the Hanoverian period, I still contend that much of the ideological debate under the first two Georges was conducted along Court-Country lines. See, also, H. T. Dickinson, 'The October Club', Huntington Library Quarterly, XXXIII (1970), 155-73; and Linda Collcy, The Loyal Brotherhood and the Cocoa-Tree: The London Organization of the Tory Party, 1727-1760', Historical Journal, XX (1977), 77-95.

The Precursors of Political Radicalism

73

army which was seen as a direct and indirect threat to the liberties of the subject. Armed force had been used against Parliament in the past, but the Country opposition was more alarmed at the indirect consequences of a large standing army. The raising of the loans for war, the appointment of army officers and the awarding of contracts to supply the troops all threatened to combine to give the Court undue political influence over important sections of the political nation. Moreover, a nation which hired mercenaries to defend its liberties was corrupting its own public spirit. A nation which lost the willingness to defend itself had already surrendered its right to remain free.19 Efforts to curb Crown patronage failed and so Country spokesmen were driven to consider other means of establishing the independence of Parliament from Court influence. They were not prepared to endorse the genuinely radical notion of popular sovereignty, but they did propose a variety of measures designed to increase the electorate's influence over its representatives. Frequent appeals were made to the electors urging them to reject candidates who were courtiers, placemen, moneyed men or stockjobbers and to vote instead for men of large landed estates who could be trusted to preserve their own integrity and the liberties of the subject.20 To reduce the costs of parliamentary elections (and hence the scope for corruption) and to make M.P.s more responsive to their constituents, Country propagandists campaigned for shorter Parliaments and more frequent general elections. Some spokesmen went out of their way to remind the electorate that voters only delegated their authority toj;heir M.P.s, but did not surrender it absolutely. Since M.P.s held their power in trust for the people, they were not free to sacrifice the liberties of the people in order to please the Court. In order to remind the M.P.s of their duties, voters were regularly urged to mount 'instruction' campaigns which were designed to pressurize their representatives into supporting Country measures.21 In addition to demands for more frequent elections and for the right of 19

H. T. Dickinson, Liberty and Property, chapters 3 and 5; idem, Bolingbroke (1970), chapters 11 and 12; J. G. A. Pocock, The Machiavellian Moment (Princeton, 1975), chapters 12-14; idem, 'Radical Criticisms of the Whig Order in the Age between Revolutions', The Origins of Anglo-American Radicalism, ed. M.Jacob and J.Jacob (1984), pp. 33-57; and G. Holmes, 'The Attack on "the influence of the Crown", 1702-16', B.I.H.R., XXXIX (1966), 47-68; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 35-56. 20 D. Defoe, Considerations upon Corrupt Elections of Members to serve in Parliament (1701); idem, The Freeholders Plea against Stockjobbing elections of Parliament (1701); and J. Toland, The Danger of Mercenary Parliaments (1698). 21 D. Defoe, The Original Power of the Collective Body of the People of England, Examined and Asserted (1702), p. 23; The Electors Right Asserted (1701), p. 1; Some Reasons for an Annual Parliament (1693), pp. 4, 8; Questions of Common Right (r.1695), p. 3; Earl of Marchmont, A Serious Exhortation to the Electors of Great Britain (1740), pp. 16-17; Common Sense, 20 Oct. 1739; The Works of Lord Bolingbroke (4 vols., 1844), II, 150-51; London Magazine, IF (1742), 101, 128; and A Letter to a Member of this New Parliament from a true lover of the liberties of the People (1742), p. 6.

74 Britain in the First Age of Party voters to instruct their M.P.s, radical Whig and Country propagandists occasionally suggested the need for changes in the system of parliamentary representation. These proposals sought to ensure the return of more independent and more honest country gentlemen rather than to increase the authority of the electorate. Shortly after the Glorious Revolution several radical Whigs complained about the over representation of the poorer counties such as Cornwall and the decayed boroughs such as Old Sarum. They favoured a significant redistribution of seats from such constituencies to the rich counties and to the growing towns of the North and Midlands.22 Forty and 50 years later several Country propagandists condemned rotten boroughs and urged a redistribution of seats according to the contributions which counties and boroughs made to the land tax.23 One opposition journal asked why rotten boroughs should return two M.P.s when each member for Yorkshire represented 10,000 freeholders and when such towns as Birmingham and Leeds had no representation at all and why Cornwall should return over 40 M.P.s when Middlesex, London and Westminster together, with twenty times the population and one hundred times the wealth, elected a mere eight representatives.24 Another journal advocated a radical redistribution of seats according to population and wealth. It suggested that the decaying boroughs of the south-west should be grouped together to form larger constituencies, while such towns as Birmingham, Manchester and Halifax should secure direct representation in Parliament for the first time. 25 Some radical Whigs and Country propagandists were prepared to consider other means of reforming the system of representation. John Wildman advocated the secret ballot as early as 16892 and this particular means of eliminating electoral corruption was revived by opposition spokesmen in the 1730s and 1740s.2 There were also suggestions for changes in the franchise. Several radical Whigs advocated not an 22 Some Remarks upon Government (1689), pp. 25-26; The Representation of London and Westminster in Parliament, Examin'd and Consider'd (1702); J. Toland, The Art of Governing by Partys (1701), pp. 75-77; and D. Defoe, The Freeholder's Plea against Stockjobbing Elections of Parliament Men (1701), pp. 16-19. 23 The Craftsman, 27 July 1734; Gentleman's Magazine, IV (1734), 381 and XI (1741), 378; Jopson's Coventry Mercury, 26 March and 23 April 1759, and Marie Peters, 'The "Monitor" on the Constitution, 1755-65: New Light on the Ideological Origins of English Radicalism', E.H.R., LXXXVI (1971), 706-25. 24 Common Sense, 15 April 1738, 6 Oct. 1739, and lOJan. 1741. 25 Westminster Journal, quoted in the Gentleman's Magazine, XVII (1747), 329, et seq. 26 Some Remarks upon Government (1689), pp. 25-6. See also W. Moyle, An Essay upon the Constitution of the Roman Republic, in Two English Republican Tracts, ed. Caroline Robbins (Cambridge, 1969), pp. 237, 240-1; and Some Observations concerning the regulating of Elections (1689), p. 17. 27 Fog's Journal, 20 April 1734, which quoted extensively from The Patriot's Proposal to the People oj England concerning the Ballot, &c.; and Liberty and Right: Or an Essay Historical and Political on the Constitution and Administration of Great Britain (1747), pp. 43-51.

The Precursors of Political Radicalism

75

extension of the franchise to the propertyless masses, however, but urged instead a restriction of the franchise to the substantial £40 freeholders who were much less likely to succumb to bribes offered by parliamentary candidates.28 This reform, and the others mentioned above, would have weakened the ruling oligarchy's ability to influence election results by the distribution of patronage and the Court interest by increasing the number of independent country gentlemen who would be returned as M.P.s for the rich counties and the large towns. These reforms, however, would not have greatly increased the political voice of the ordinary people because insufficent attention was paid to the question of improving the representation of the middling and lower orders by a radical extension of the franchise. Neither the radical Whigs nor the leading Country propagandists can be classed as genuine democrats interested in the equal representation of the people. Demands for a radical extension of the franchise did not appear as an important element in the opposition platform until the late 1770s, but, long before this, it is possible to detect a growing recognition in radical circles that all men deserved to enjoy active political rights. As we have seen, although he did not make his position plain, John Locke did imply that all men should enjoy positive rights in civil society. Without explicitly campaigning for an extended franchise, a number of radical Whigs did claim that all men had an equal right to freedom and had the right to scrutinize the actions of the government under which they lived.29 As early as 1701 one radical Whig suggested that the number of voters in certain boroughs should be increased, though not to the extent of enfranchising those without property." In 1732 one critic of Robert Walpole claimed that every man had 'an equal right to nominate the makers and executors of the laws, which are the guardians of person and property'.31 By the early 1740s several Country spokesmen were arguing that even the 'meaner sort' and not simply the electorate had the right to instruct M.P.s. This was because the actions of the government concerned every man and so every man had the right to concern himself with the decisions taken by Parliament. Even poor men paid taxes and contributed to the support of the government and hence such men had the right to take an interest in government.3" Here were the beginnings of Some Remarks upon Government (1689), pp. 24-26; and Some Observations concerning the regulating of elections for Parliament (1689), pp. 9-12. 29 See, e.g., London journal. 30 Dec. 1721. Letters to Parliament-Men, in reference to some proceedings in the House of Commons (1701), pp. 9-10. 31 London Journal, 9 Sept. 1732. 32 The Livery-Man: or Plain Thoughts on Public Affairs (1740), pp. 7, 56; [[. Campbell], The Case of the Opposition Impartially Stated (1742), pp. 51-52. The connection between taxation and representation was advanced by the Westminster Journal in 1747, the Monitor in the 1750s and Jopson's Coventry Mercury in 1759; see Linda Collcy, In Defiance of Oligarchy, (Cambridge, 1982), p. 170.

76 Britain in the First Age of Party the concept of 'no taxation without representation' and it was being articulated in England long before it was raised by the American colonists. By the early 1760s James Burgh wanted to see the franchise extended to all those who paid taxes to a specified amount and another radical came close to justifying universal manhood suffrage on the basis that every man was taxed and hence every man was entitled to representation.33 Clearly, while critics of the ruling oligarchy in Augustan Britain concentrated their attentions on the need to preserve civil liberties, discussions about extending the political rights of the subjects were also being articulated and these were laying the basis for the radical demands of the later eighteenth century. Even more surprising was the occasional reference to the economic rights of the poor that pointed to radical demands much further into the future. A few commentators recognized that oppression not only took political forms, but could also involve the abuse of the economic power which the rich could exert over the poor. There was some discussion of the need to redistribute property more equally among the whole population if political liberty was to be effectively safeguarded.34 There was the occasional condemnation of oppressive employers who refused to pay their labourers wages necessary to the upkeep of themselves and their families and who used the law against those who would not submit to such arbitrary conduct. It was suggested that efforts to reduce the wages of the poor would be destructive of both individual liberty and the prosperity of the nation at large. Food and clothes belonged of right of all industrious men and therefore the price of labour should correspond to the prices of such necessities and care should be taken not to load unjust taxes upon the poor.35 4 Organization and Methods: Prelude to a Radical Movement? It was not until the later eighteenth century that there appeared an extraparliamentary political movement, proclaiming its attachment to a radical ideology and standing on a radical platform. Even then this movement found little support inside Parliament and it could rarely enlist mass support out-of-doors. The political groupings who criticized the ruling oligarchy and who sought some reform of the constitution in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries were both smaller and 33

Carla H. Hay, James Burgh: Spokesman for Reform in Hanoverian England (Washington, D.C., 1979), pp. 60-68, 95, 97, 107; and Reflexions on Representation in Parliament (1766), p. 6. 34 An Essay on Civil Government (1743), pp. 132-5. A Letter to a Member oj Parliament, on the Importance of Liberty (1745), pp. 4, 6-7, 1925; and Proposals for carrying on the War with Vigour, raising the Supplies within the Year and Forming a National Militia (1757), pp. 12, 44-50.

The Precursors of Political Radicalism 77 less permanent than the radical movement of the late eighteenth century. At various times small coteries of radical Whigs campaigned for effective restrictions on the royal prerogative, while, more persistently, a Country opposition, drawing the bulk of its support from the Tories, challenged the political abuses and the corrupt tactics of the ruling oligarchy. Although both radical Whigs and Country opposition failed to rally mass support for a genuinely radical political programme, they did learn to exploit the power of the press in order to propagate their views. They also sought to rally the electorate behind their demands by encouraging petitioning and instruction campaigns and they learned to influence public opinion through their contacts with constituency clubs, pressure groups and even popular demonstrations. Although they usually succeeded in controlling and restraining the political demands put forward by the middling and lower orders, they did, inadvertently, help to create an extra-parliamentary force which would later break free of control from above. Furthermore, social and economic developments throughout the nation were creating potential support for constitutional reform that the radical Whigs and Country propagandists never fully harnessed to their cause. It was left to the radicals of the later eighteenth century to learn how to enlist mass popular support. The arguments of radical Whigs and Country spokesmen were disseminated by a burgeoning political press which became increasingly critical of the ruling oligarchy and deeply conscious of the liberty of the subject. The press undoubtedly played a crucial role in informing the people of the conduct of their rulers and in acting as the principal medium for the articulation and distribution of popular protests against the government. The press often acted as the political instructor and as the political agent of those who wished to resist the growth of oligarchy. Its influence was undoubtedly greatest among the middling orders of London, but it also grew to be a significant force acting upon the merchants, shopkeepers, tradesmen and professional men of the larger provincial towns. The authorities were unable to stem this tide of political propaganda as a free press became a marked feature of the political life of the nation after the Glorious Revolution. By the early Hanoverian period the best and most influential newspapers and periodicals in London, including the London Evening Post, and The Craftsman and The Monitor, were vehicles for Country propaganda. The choicest political items from the capital's press were often reprinted in the provincial newspapers. Many of the best provincial newspapers, including the York Courant, the Newcastle Courant, the Exeter Journal, the Norwich Gazette, Farley's Bristol Newspaper and Jopson's Coventry Mercury, were determined opponents of the ministry. Indeed, it seems clear that the majority of the provincial press was critical of the executive and sympathetic to the defence of liberty. In any local press war the newspaper espousing Country views was usually the victor. This was

78 Britain in the First Age of Party the case in York, Bristol, Chester, Newcastle, Nottingham and other towns. The provincial press, often following the lead of the Country propaganda emanating from London, publicized all the major arguments and campaigns of the enemies of oligarchy and corruption and disseminated the various radical proposals for constitutional and electoral reform.36 The demands of radical Whig and Country propaganda were also promoted by political organizations in the constituencies and by the sophisticated campaigns to rally the electorate behind them. Despite the growth of oligarchy and the spread of electoral patronage, a significant number of large and open constituencies continued to exist and in these the voters were never under the complete control of the propertied elite. General elections were often bitterly contested in such large boroughs as London, Westminster, Southwark, Bristol, Norwich and Coventry, and in such populous counties as Yorkshire, Middlesex, Surrey, Kent, Norfolk and Essex. In the large boroughs, in particular, the electorate began to reject the leadership of the propertied elite and endeavoured to control its own representatives. As early as 1695 the Tories had set up a political society at the Castle tavern in the City of London. Known as the Centenary Club this society of professional men and retail traders later played an active part in encouraging popular resistance to Walpole's oligarchical policies in the City. In 1714-15 the City Whigs formed the Hanover Society, the most sophisticated political club of its day, in order to combat Jacobitism. Among its proposals was a scheme to extend the franchise to those men of property who were not freemen. In the 1720s and 1730s a political society meeting at the Half Moon tavern in the City coordinated the opposition of the London liverymen to the policies of Walpole. By the late 1730s a Society of Independent Electors had emerged in Westminster to combat oligarchy, while a second, more plebeian, group met at the Crown and Anchor tavern. Even outside the metropolitan area electors were beginning to establish their own independent political organizations. By the late 1730s there were two electoral clubs in Bristol, the Steadfast Society and the Union Society. The former was supported by many smaller, satellite clubs in the poorer parts of Bristol. Soon there were local clubs of independent electors in other towns, including the Bull Club in Cirencester, the Charter Club in Colchester, the Bean Club in Birmingham and the Independent Electors Society in Coventry. These clubs monitored the parliamentary conduct of M.P.s and orchestrated popular resistance to aristocratic control in the larger constituencies. Hard-fought contests in such constituencies frequently involved the unenfranchized as well as those qualified to vote. There were violent demonstrations of popular opinion in numerous 36

G. A. Cranfield, The Development of the Provincial Newspaper, 1700-1760 (Oxford, 1962), chapters 6 and 7.

The Precursors of Political Radicalism 79 37 urban constituencies. The casting of votes in elections was neither the most frequent nor the most effective way for organized public opinion to influence the behaviour and to challenge the decisions of the ruling oligarchy. Pressure could be brought to bear by sophisticated extra-parliamentary groups and by nationwide instruction campaigns. In early Hanoverian Britain there were several pressure groups, both economic and religious, which had developed highly sophisticated lobbying techniques capable of demonstrating the effectiveness of peaceful persuasion even in an aristocratic society. During periods of acute political crisis extraparliamentary opinion mounted nationwide petitioning and instruction campaigns in an effort to dictate the conduct of M.P.s. In these coordinated and concerted movements petitions for the redress of grievances were combined with 'instructions' from constituents to their M.P.s, requesting them to vote in a particular way and to bring forward certain resolutions in Parliament. The most sophisticated and effective instruction campaigns were waged in 1733 against the Excise bill, between 1739 and 1742 in a sustained attack both on Walpole's foreign policy and his corrupt methods, in 1753 against the Jew bill, and in 1756 in widespread protests against the loss of Minorca. Those scholars who have closely examined these campaigns have all concluded that they involved a powerful groundswell of anti-ministerial resentment in the constituencies and demonstrated a widespread determination to denounce government policies. Though the opposition within Parliament sometimes approved of these protests the lead was usually given by independent forces within London and this initiative was followed by petitions and addresses from the larger counties and boroughs across the nation. Even constituencies represented by progovernment M.P.s were capable of demonstrating their opposition to the ministry. Protests on such a scale generally forced the government to 37

G. S. De Krey, A Fractured Society: The Politics of London in the First Age of Party, 1688-1715 (Oxford, 1985), pp. 197, 262-3, 267-9; H. Horwitz, 'Minutes ofa Whig Club, 1714-1717', London Politics, 1713-1717 (London Record Soc. Pub., XVII, 1981), 1-61; I. G. Doolittle, 'The Half Moon Tavern, Cheapside and City Polities', Transactions of the London and Middlesex Archaeological Society, XXVIII (1977), 328-32; N. Rogers, 'Resistance to Oligarchy: the City Opposition to Walpole and his Successors, 1725-47', London in the Age of Reform, ed. J. Stevenson (Oxford, 1977), p. 13; idem, 'Aristocratic Clientage, Trade and Independency: Popular Politics in Pre-Radical Westminster', Past and Present, No. 63 (1973), pp. 75, 94-6; Linda Colley, In Defiance of Oligarchy, p. 138; and idem, 'Eighteenth-Century English Radicalism Before Wilkes', T. R. Hist. S., 5th ser., XXXI (1981), 7-9. 38 Sec, e.g., N. C. Hunt, Two Early Political Associations (Oxford, 1961); idem, The Russia Company and the Government, 1730-1742', Oxford Slavonic Papers, VII (1957), 27-65; Lillian M. Penson, 'The London West India Interest in the Eighteenth Century', E.H.R., XXXVI (1921), 373-92; and Lucy Sutherland, The East India Company in Eighteenth Century Politics (Oxford, 1952).

80 Britain in the First Age. of Party withdraw its unpopular measures.39 Extra-parliamentary pressure groups and nationwide instruction campaigns clearly show that the Country platform could occasionally influence public opinion and could enlist considerable popular support for its political demands. The radical movement of the later eighteenth century built upon these foundations, but it also benefited from the growth of an independent political culture, hostile to the ruling oligarchy and its aristocratic politics, that had taken root among the middling orders in society earlier in the eighteenth century and from the longstanding tradition of riots, demonstrations and direct action among the lower orders. The urban bourgeoisie, in particular, had their own social and economic reasons for resisting the authority and criticizing the policies of the governing elite. The Augustan age saw a considerable growth in the size of London and many provincial towns and the consequent expansion in the number of merchants, traders, master craftsmen and professional men who came to dominate these urban centres. With money to spare the middling orders improved the facilities of their towns and pursued culture, status and power. The larger provincial towns followed London in becoming more open societies in which the bourgeoisie could advance their economic interests, achieve social distinction and seek political influence. The growing towns encouraged greater mobility and generated a more competitive, aspiring society that was in the process of breaking away from aristocratic domination.40 Resentful of the ways in which the governing elite could damage their economic interests, the urban bourgeoisie sought ways of challenging the pretensions of their social superiors. Through the expanding press they imbibed political propaganda which was frequently hostile to the ruling oligarchy. By developing a whole range of masonic and pseudo-masonic lodges, of tradesmen's societies and social clubs, the middling orders learned to combine in mutual support and to organize themselves independently of the patrician elite. These associations allowed their members to organize their own activities without deferring to aristocratic leadership and ultimately to use these institutions as vehicles for coordinating campaigns to challenge the political influence of their social superiors. In these societies all members were equal and the members made their own 39

P. Langford, The Excise Crisis: Society and Politics in the Age of Walpolc (Oxford, 1975), chapter 4; Linda Colley, In Defiance of Oligarchy, pp. 167-9, 225-6, 276-7; T. W. Perry, Public Opinion, Propaganda and Politics in Eighteenth Century England (Cambridge, Mass., 1962); and Marie Peters, Pitt and Popularity (Oxford, 1980), pp. 46-57. 40 P. Borsay, 'The English Urban Renaissance: The Development of Provincial Urban Culture, c.l680-r.!760', Social History, V (1977), 581-603; idem, 'Culture, Status, and the English Urban Landscape', History, LXVII (1982), 1 -12; A. Mclnnes, The English Town, 1660-1760 (1980); and G. Holmes, Augustan England: Professions, State and Society, 1680-1730(\982).

The Precursors of Political Radicalism

81

rules and elected their own officials. Even more political were the reading and debating societies which sprang up in most towns in the mid-eighteenth century. The authorities became very suspicious of the fact that in these societies the middling orders freely discussed politics and religion. These societies spread rapidly and their political views had clearly been radicalized by the time they rallied to Wilkes and his cause in the 1760s.41 Despite the growth of oligarchy in the Augustan age the middling orders were not totally excluded from the local political disputes which broke out in their towns. By virtue of its capital status, its commercial supremacy, its sheer size, its special privileges, and its comparatively democratic system of government, the City of London was virtually an independent political community. Throughout the Augustan era the pretensions of the magisterial elite led many of the London aldermen into a political alliance with the central government, but this trend stimulated popular demands for the dismantling of the entire edifice of magisterial dominance in the Corporation. While the rich financiers and merchants rallied to the support of the government, the middling and lower orders affirmed their commitment to libertarian principles and campaigned for a more democratic system of local government. Central to this campaign was opposition to restrictions on the size of the City electorate and resistance to the imposition of an aldermanic veto on the decisions of the Common Council. Street demonstrations, organized petitions and addresses, judicial proceedings and tumultuous elections were all testimony to a vigorous, determined and sustained effort to resist the growth of oligarchy and to expand popular liberties in the nation's capital. For decades the champions of independent opinion in London vindicated a more open concept of politics and made the capital a seedbed for the radicalism of the later eighteenth century. 42 The example of London spread to the other large boroughs. Westminster, which was more under aristocratic influence than London because of the presence of Court, Parliament, Whitehall and the houses of fashionable society, was also the largest urban constituency in the country. By the late 1730s the lesser tradesmen in the poorer eastern parishes of the borough were 41

J. Brewer, 'Commercialization and Polities', The Birth of a Consumer Society, ed. N. McKendrick, J. Brewer and J. H. Plumb (1982), pp. 197-262; and T. Fawcett, 'Eighteenth-Century Debating Societies', British Journal for Eighteenth-Century Studies, III (1980), 217-29. 42 G. S. DC Krey, 'Political Radicalism in London after the Glorious Revolution', Journal of Modern History, LV (1983), 585-617; idem, A Fractured Society; Rogers, 'Resistance to Oligarchy', pp. 1-29; idem, The Urban Opposition to Whig Oligarchy, 1720-60', The Origins of Anglo-American Radicalism, ed. Jacob andjacob, pp. 132-48; A. J. Henderson, London and the National Government, 1721-1742 (Durham, N. Carolina, 1945); and I. G. Doolittle, 'Walpolc's City Elections Act (1725)', E.H.R., XCVII (1982), 504-29.

82 Britain in the First Age of Party beginning to wrest political control from their social superiors.43 Popular resistance to oligarchy was not confined to the metropolis. In many of the larger provincial boroughs there were conflicts between the corporation party which represented the interests of the richer inhabitants and an independent opposition hostile to the political dominance of this local oligarchy. This was certainly the case in such towns as Coventry, Exeter, Bristol, Colchester, Leicester, Liverpool, Norwich, Nottingham, and Worcester. Direct involvement in elections, pressure groups, instruction campaigns and borough politics was largely confined to the middling orders. Only occasionally did political activity of this kind involve the poorer sections of society. Nevertheless, the lower orders did engage in direct action which proved capable of influencing the political decisions of the governing elite. In numerous crowd demonstrations the poor revealed a strong sense of corporate identity and a capacity for effective collective action, though they never developed a coherent critique of society and never adopted a programme for the complete restructuring of political society. Most riots were caused by social and economic grievances, but the poor did occasionally involve themselves in disputes which raised wider political issues. They rioted in 1688-89 in support of the Glorious Revolution and they rioted in 1710 and in 1715-16 when they identified the Court Whigs with the unpopular Dissenting and moneyed interests.44 Popular anger was also roused against specific government policies, including support for turnpike trusts and proposals for new taxes on such popular items of consumption as tobacco, beer and gin. The poor did not expect to control who would govern them, but they were prepared to take direct action in order to restrict how the ruling oligarchy should exercise its authority. They had not yet committed themselves to a radical programme, but they had absorbed libertarian notions and they were in the process of transforming Country ideas to their own needs. Conscious that they were freemen, they were prepared to oblige the ruling elite to make some concessions to their demands. 5

This essay has attempted to show that radicalism cannot be regarded as a sudden or surprising development of the late eighteenth century. The 43 N. Rogers, 'Aristocratic Clientage, Trade and Independency: Popular Politics in Pre-Radical Westminster', Past and Present, No. 61 (1973), pp. 70-106. 44 W. L. Sachse, 'The Mob and the Revolution of 1688', Journal of British Studies, IV (1964), 23-41; G. Holmes, 'The Sacheverell Riots', Past and Present, No. 72 (1976), pp. 55-85; N. Rogers, 'Popular Protest in Early Hanoverian England', Past and Present, No. 79 (1978), pp. 70-100; and idem, 'Riot and Popular Jacobitism in Early Hanoverian England', Ideology and Conspiracy: Aspects of Jacobitism, 1689-1759, ed. Eveline Cruickshanks (Edinburgh, 1982), pp. 70-88.

The Precursors of Political Radicalism 83 precursors of a radical movement can be traced back to the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, but these were not of one kind and their full potential was not realized at the time. Later eighteenth-century radicalism owed much to the radical Whig ideology and the ideas of Locke, that were propagated in the late seventeenth century, but it also owed a great deal to the campaigning of the Tory and Country opposition, especially under the first two Georges, and to a number of social and economic developments over an even longer period of time. Moreover, before radicalism could fully develop, the doctrine of natural rights had to be extended to a desire for full political rights, the opposition platform had to include a demand for a major extension of the franchise, and there had to be a further growth of a distinctive bourgeois culture. In addition, these elements had to be integrated into a coherent whole. These developments and this integration could only be accomplished during a deep and sustained political crisis and through the talents of a charismatic leader who was capable of fully exploiting the ideology, platform and organizations that had been developing since the Glorious Revolution. The early years of George Ill's reign produced the first of these and John Wilkes pointed the way towards the second.

Bibliographical Note On radical ideology see J. Tully, A Discourse on Property (Cambridge, 1980); J. P. Kenyon, Revolution Principles (Cambridge, 1977); H. T. Dickinson, Liberty and Property (1977); idem, 'The Rights of Man from John Locke to Tom Paine', Scotland, Europe and the American Revolution, ed. O. D. Edwards and G. A. Shepperson (Edinburgh, 1976), pp. 38-48; idem, 'Whiggism in the Eighteenth Century', The Whig Ascendancy, ed. J. Cannon (1981), pp. 28-44, 200-2; Caroline Robbins, The EighteenthCentury Commonwealthman (Cambridge, Mass., 1959); R. Ashcraft, 'Revolutionary Politics and Locke's Two Treatises of Government: Radicalism and Lockean Political Theory', Political Theory, VIII, (1980), 429-86; M. Goldie, 'The Revolution of 1689 and the Structure of Political Argument', Bulletin of Research in the Humanities, LXXXIII (1980), 473564. On the radical Whig and Country platforms see also M. Goldie, The Roots of True Whiggism, 1688-1694', History of Political Thought, I (1980), 195-236; Lois G. Schwoerer, The Declaration of Rights, 1689 (Baltimore, 1981); J. G. A. Pocock, 'Radical Criticism of the Whig Order in the Age between Revolutions', The Origins of Anglo-American

84 Britain in the First Age of Party Radicalism, eds. Margaret Jacob andj. Jacob (1984), pp. 35-57; J. G. A. Pocock, The Machiavellian Moment (1975); H. T. Dickinson, Bolingbroke (1970); and D. Hayton, 'The "Country" Interest and the Party System, 1689-C.1720', Party and Management in Parliament, 1660-1784, ed. C.Jones (Leicester, 1984). On political organizations and methods see Linda Colley, In Defiance of Oligarchy: The Tory Party, 1714-60 (Cambridge, 1982); idem, 'Eighteenth-Century English Radicalism before Wilkes', T. R. Hist. S., 5th ser., XXXI (1981), 1-19; G. S. DC Krey, 'Political Radicalism in London after the Glorious Revolution', Journal of Modern History, LXV (1983), 585-617; idem, A Fractured Society: The Politics of London in the First Age of Party, 1688-1715, (Oxford, 1985); N. Rogers, 'Aristocratic Clientage, Trade and Independency: Popular Politics in Pre-Radical Westminster', Past and Present, No. 61 (1973), pp. 70-106; idem, 'Resistance to Oligarchy: The City Opposition to Walpole and his Successors, 1725-47', London in the Age of Reform, ed. J. Stevenson (Oxford, 1977); idem, 'The Urban Opposition to Whig Oligarchy, 172060', in The Origins of Anglo-American Radicalism, ed. M. Jacob and J. Jacob, pp. 132-48; P. Borsay, 'The English Urban Renaissance: The Development of Provincial Urban Culture, c. 1680-c. 1760', Social History, V (1977), 581-603; N. C. Hunt, Two Early Political Associations (Oxford, 1961); and H. T. Dickinson, 'Popular Politics in the Age of Walpole', in Britain in the Age of Walpole, ed. J. Black (1984), pp. 45-68.

5

The House of Lords and the Growth of Parliamentary Stability, 1701-1742* Clyve Jones In an important chapter on 'The Court and the Parties in the House of Lords' in British Politics in the Age of Anne, Geoffrey Holmes brought the upper House back on to the centre stage of eighteenth-century parliamentary history from whence it had been banished by a twentiethcentury myopic historiographical concentration on the House of Commons. He rightly pointed out that 'any politically-minded Englishman from the 1720s to the 1790s would have been justifiably puzzled by this neglect, but the Englishman of the age of Anne would have been utterly incredulous'.1 For Anne's reign Holmes was echoing contemporary judgements such as those of Lord Poulett and Bishop Burnet. In 1711, Poulett wrote that despite a crushing Tory victory in the general election of October 1710 the Whig led 'House of Lords prevailes over the Queens management with us and the strongest House of Commons that ever met'. Two years later, Burnet wrote in his History: 'Have we not seen in our time four or five lords by their knowledge good judgment, and integrity, raise the house of peers to a pitch of reputation and credit, that seemed once beyond the expectation or belief of those who now see it?'. 2 By the 1720s, however, a change had taken place. Lord Orrery, a disgruntled Tory (not to say Jacobite) opponent of the Whig ministry, considered that: The House of Lords are treated pretty much as an useless body and they seem to acquiesce under that threat for they neither arc nor desire to be I think troubled with publick affairs but content themselves with being a Court of Judicature; and that submissive temper will not fail to be encouraged by a *Quotations from the Stuart Papers in the Royal Archives, Windsor Castle, are by the gracious permission of Her Majesty the Queen. I should also like to thank the Duke of Devonshire and the Trustees of the Chatsworth Settlement, and the late Lady Ravensdale for allowing me to consult and quote from their papers. Eveline Cruikshanks, David Hayton and Stephen Taylor read an early draft of this essay and saved me from many errors. The statistical information on voting, and on opposition to or support of Walpole's ministry in the Lords is based on a tabulation of all known lists for the upper House which I hope to publish with an analysis. 1

British Politics, p. 382. B.L., Add. MS. 22222, ff. 188-9: Poulett to [Strafford], 20 Dec. 1711; G. Burnet, History of His Own Time (6 vols., Oxford, 1833), VI, 220. 2

86

Britain in the First Age of Party Ministry and a house of Commons will easily know how to make their advantage of it.

Though a pessimistic account of the position of the Lords in the constitution Orrery's view was an attempt to analyse recent parliamentary trends, which were increasingly to push the Lords into a role subservient to the executive, and which saw the Commons emerge as the more important of the two Houses. These changes seemed so complete by 1730 that Lord Bathurst could describe the Lords as 'that busy senseless place', while in 1733 the Earl of Bristol could seriously ask his son, Lord Hervey, who had been called to the Lords, what 'secret motives . . . have influenced your choice so suddenly to exchange ye important House you was a member of for so insignificant an one as your friend [Walpole] and you have endeavoured to make'? 3 The apparent unimportance of the upper House under Walpole's administration was, however, to some extent illusiory. The members of the Lords were not so much 'firemen in a town without fires', as a recent historian has written, 4 but firemen in a town with only occasional fires. When needed they were certainly there to damp down conflagrations, although in times of high political tension it could take all the administration's persuasion and bullying to tempt them out of the fire station. Under Anne, however, and particularly during the Oxford ministry when the Whig Junto occasionally dominated the Lords, the upper House was acting not so much as a fire-fighter but more as an arsonist causing its own political conflagrations. Thus how in the space often years or so did the change from fireraiser to fireman come about? 2

The abolition of the House of Lords in 1649, the year of the execution of Charles I, had merely been an acknowledgement of the symbiotic relationship between the monarchy and the peerage. It was clear that the fortunes of both were inextricably linked, and the restoration of both in 1660 underlines this relationship. The traumatic reign ofjames II to some extent weakened these links and the 'Glorious Revolution' of 1688 and the subsequent parliamentary settlement of 1689 were largely the work of a section of the peerage. The Revolution also had a great effect on the development of parties. Initially the events of 1688-89 had been carried out by both Whig and Tories. The 1690s, however, saw a growing 3 B.L., Add. MS. 61380, f. 57: Orrery to [Oxbridge], 20 Jan. [1723]; The Correspondence of Jonathan Swift, cd. H. Williams (5 vols., Oxford, 1963-5), III, 400; The Letter Books of John Hervey, First Earl of Bristol (Suffolk Green Books, No. 1, 3 vols., Wells, 1894), 111,92. 4 J. Cannon, Aristocratic Century: The Peerage of Eighteenth-Century England (Cambridge, 1984), p. 125.

The House of Lords and Parliamentary Stability 87 polarisation of the two parties and Robert Harley dated the beginning of what he termed the 'gathering strength' of party animosity around 1694.5 In 1701 this erupted in the House of Lords when an increasingly confident Tory party enjoying a narrow majority in the Commons, fuelled by their hatred of Whig personnel and policies, and especially of William Ill's European wars, impeached three of the five Whig Junto leaders in the Lords, Halifax, Somers and Orford, and the Earl of Portland, a Dutch favourite of the King. This action completed the hardening process within the parties, and Geoffrey Holmes has concluded that these 'impeachments brought about a closing of Whig ranks as nothing else had done since 1689'.6 The 'rage of party', which was one of the hallmarks of Anne's reign, was to be the political mechanism which propelled the House of Lords into a prominent position in parliamentary politics. In the early years of the reign the Whigs and Tories were fairly evenly balanced; the creation in 1703 of four Tories and one pro-Marlborough Whig had ensured this.7 This balance, together with one party dominating the Commons for most of the reign (Tories from 1702-5 and 1710-15, and the Whigs from 1708-10) left the Lords as the major battleground for inter-party rivalry; for control of the upper House would bring either control of Parliament or the capacity to frustrate the opposing party. Several issues - Hanover and Stuart, 'Revolution Principles', land and 'new money', Church and Dissent, war and peace - were to form what Geoffrey Holmes has termed the 'substance of conflict' between the two parties. 8 Of these, perhaps none was more potent than the religious issue, for closely tied to it was the all important question of the Protestant Succession. From the early battles over the Occasional Conformity bills, when the Commons tried in 1704 to repeat the procedure used in William Ill's reign of 'tacking' a measure to a money bill to prevent its amendment in the Lords, through the debates in December 1705 on whether the Church was in danger under the Queen's administration, through the crisis of the impeachment of Dr. Henry Sacheverell in 1710, to the Schism Act of 1714 which attempted to deprive Dissenters of the opportunity to educate their children in their own way, religion ensured that rigid lines were drawn between the two parties.9 The Hanoverian Succession in 1714, so peacefully accomplished after 5

B.L., Add. MS. 40621, f. 193. British Politics, p. 63. 7 Ibid., p. 395. 8 Ibid., chapters 2-5. 9 See H. L. Snyder, 'The Defeat of the Occasional Conformity Bill and the Tack: A Study in the Techniques of Parliamentary Management in the Reign of Queen Anne', B.I.H.R., XLI (1968), 172-92; C. Jones, 'Debates in the House of Lords on "The Church in Danger", 1705, and on Dr Sacheverell's Impeachment, 1710', Historical Journal, XIX (1976), 759-71; G. Holmes, The Trial of Doctor Sacheverell (1973). 6

88 Britain in the First Age of Party the agonies of apprehension under Anne, proved in retrospect to have been a watershed in party development. The Tory party after the 1713 general election had a massive majority in the Commons and, after the bloc creation in 1711/12 by Lord Oxford of 12 peers to pass the peace proposals, the Tories also had, except in a time of crisis, a working majority in the Lords. Yet despite apparent advantages and numerical superiority, within a year of George I's accession the Tory party was a rump of its former self, never to hold office again. The quarrel between Oxford and Bolingbroke had fatally split the party in the last years of Anne's reign so that it was unable to face the challenge of the succession, saddled as it was with the reputation of opposition to Hanoverian war aims, unsoundness on the succession, and reputed dabbling with the Pretender's exiled court.10 The Whigs did not, however, triumph immediately. George I retained a few Hanoverian Tories, such as Lord Nottingham, in his new, largely Whig administration. The defection of some Tories to the Pretender, notably Bolingbroke, weakened their position. From early 1715 the Tories became a proscribed minority, some of whom turned to Jacobitism in desperation, and most of whom found themselves tarred (often unjustifiably) with the brush of the exiled court. The unsuccessful Jacobite Rebellion in the autumn of 1715 sealed the Tory party's fate. The subsequent smear of Jacobitism was to be a useful tool with which to blacken the opposition. In the Lords several other factors led to a dominant Whig majority after 1715: death took away a number of Tories whose heirs were less active in politics; many, notably those who had supported the Hanoverian succession, either were muted in their support of the opposition or retired from active politics; a few, such as Trevor and Harcourt, were prepared to work with the Whigs; and the new Whig creations in 1714-15, though small, were significant enough to ensure a firm Whig majority. Thus within a few years the Tory party was left with a small rump of around 30 or so peers to face the Goliath of the Whig party of occasionally three times that number. Paradoxically this proved to be the innate strength of the Tory party; the rump proved to be the more active and committed lords. Though often in a position of impotence, the party could still at times be a thorn in the side of Whig administrations.11 As much a paradox was the fact that the apparently overwhelming 10 See G. Holmes, 'Harley, St. John and the Death of the Tory Party', Britain after the Glorious Revolution, 1689-1714, ed. G. Holmes (1969), pp. 216-37; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 139-60. 1 ' For divergent views on the role of the Tory party see Eveline Cruickshanks, Political Untouchables: The Tories and the '45 (1970); idem, 'Introduction', in Ideology and Conspiracy: Aspects of Jacobitism, 1689-1759, ed. Eveline Cruickshanks (Edinburgh, 1982), pp. 1-14; Linda Colley, In Defiance of Oligarchy: The Tory Party, 1714-60 (Cambridge, 1982).

The House of Lords and Parliamentary Stability 89 strength of the Whig party, proved in some respects a weakness. Competition between factions in the party surfaced within months of the Hanoverian succession. High political talent and ambition amongst the leaders of the Whigs led in April 1717 to the inevitable split when a group led by Walpole and his brother-in-law, Townsherid, resigned, leaving Sunderland and Stanhope in control of the ministry. The schism persisted for three years for the logic of the situation left no other course open to Walpole's faction than to make a nuisance in order to force themselves back into government. Their first tactic was to come to an agreement with the Tories over the imprisonment of Lord Oxford. His impeachment was dropped and he himself released from the Tower in July 1717. However, Walpolean Whigs and Tories proved to be uncongenial bedfellows and this co-operation did not survive the summer. Not only did Sunderland and the King woo some Whig defectors back to the ministry in the autumn, but prospects of office were also held out to some Tories. The negotiations came to nothing, but the ministry succeeded in weakening both opposition factions.12 The beginning of the following session of 1718 saw such a 'want of strength to oppose' from both Walpole and the Tories that the ministry felt able to proceed with repeal of the Occasional Conformity and Schism Acts.13 The split within the Whig party led to an increased importance for the House of Lords in the ministry's calculations. An administration vulnerable in the lower House, where Walpole's faction was strongest, meant a concentration of effort in the Lords. Part of the 'reform' programme put forward by the Sunderland/Stanhope ministry in 171819 was an attempt by means of the Peerage bill to entrench the two chief ministers' position in the upper House. By restricting the Crown's prerogative in the creation of peerages and replacing the elected Scottish peers by hereditary ones, Sunderland hoped to preserve himself and his mininstry from future political attack. Behind the bill there was also a large element of conservative social reaction to the enlarged peerage (highlighted by Oxford's mass creation in 1711/12), and this led most peers from both parties to support it. However, the measure was killed off by Walpole in the Commons in December 1719 in one of the most brilliant speeches of his career, a performance which, as much as anything, led to his return to the ministry the following year.14 Another 12

See W. A. Speck, The Whig Schism under George I', Huntington Library Quarterly, XL (1976-7), 171-9; C. Jones, 'The Impeachment of the Earl of Oxford and the Whig Schism of 1717: Four New Lists', B.I.H.R., LV (1982), 66-87; J. Black, 'Parliament and the Political and Diplomatic Crisis of 1717-18', Parliamentary History, III (1984), 77-101. 13 B.L., Add. MS. 47028, ff. 255-6: Lord Perceval's letterbook, 16 Dec. 1718. 14 No satisfactory account of the Peerage bill exists. See, however, £. R. Turner, The Peerage Bill of 1719', E.H.R., XXVIII (1913), 243-39 for some of the arguments used on both sides, and J. F. Naylor's compliation The British Aristocracy and the Peerage Bill of 1719(1968).

90 Britain in the First Age of Party factor was the reconciliation between the Prince of Wales and the King. Their quarrel in 1716 had been the underlying reason for the Whig Schism, and much of the opposition strength in Parliament had come from the Walpole/Townshend faction's association with the Prince. The Whig Schism laid down a pattern for future political development in the upper House. The large ministerial majority in the Lords could only be opposed with any chance of success when the Tory rump was joined by a substantial number of discontented Whigs. Yet in a ministry increasingly dominated by Walpole, after the deaths of Stanhope and Sunderland in 1721-22, where there was less room for men of ambition and talent, it was not until the late 1720s, and more so in the early 1730s, that sufficient Whigs of importance deserted to embarrass the ministry in the Lords. By then a new Prince of Wales, Frederick, son of George II, was in conflict with his father, and increasingly he became a focal point of opposition. A much needed fillip was given to the opposition in these years by the recruitment of speakers of such distinction as Carteret (a former Secretary of State) and Chesterfield and Stair (ex-ambassadors). Besides administrative experience, these Whig defectors, or 'patriots' as they were known, brought wit and debating skills. The miscalculation by Walpole over the excise in 1733 gave the opposition their first real chance. Though countrywide horror at the scheme forced Walpole to abandon it before it reached the Lords,15 the climate of opinion it had created was too strong for the opposition in the upper House to let the ministry off. So, turning their fire on the South Sea Company, they inflicted the first major defeat on an administration for some twenty years. With royal help, however, the ministry quickly reasserted its control over the Lords, and eight days later recovered its position. 6 Between June 1733 and January 1734 new talent was imported into the upper House in the form of Lords Hervey, Hardwicke, Talbot and Hinton. Together with the dismissal from their offices and their regiments of the Duke of Bolton and Lord Cobham, along with the Scottish peers who voted against the ministry not being on the King's list at the next election, these new peers represented a sufficient sign of the government's determination that the opposition was badly beaten on the first division of the new session in January 1734. The next major crisis for Walpole in the Lords was over the Quakers Tithe bill in 1736. Again it was caused by a miscalculation on the premier's part. In an attempt to help the Quakers, whose political support he found useful, and to implement a religious policy which would highlight the difference between patriots and Tories, Walpole not 15 See P. Langford, The Excise Crisis: Society and Politics in the Age of Walpole (Oxford, 1975). 16 See J. H. Plumb, Sir Robert Walpole (2 vols., 1972 edn.), II, 276-9.

The House of Lords and Parliamentary Stability

91

only alienated the entire bench of bishops but split the ruling clique within his own party. 17 The power of patronage wielded by Walpole ruthlessly and with consummate skill meant that when necessary his administration recovered its position in the Lords.18 This power was demonstrated when the opposition in February 1741 failed by a margin of 49 to obtain an address to the King to remove the prime minister. Even as late as midwinter 1741/2, Newcastle was calculating a healthy majority of around 30.19 His forecast was justified on 12 January 1742 when the ministry secured a majority of 24 in a vote on 'the state of the nation'. The last few months of Walpole's administration, however, saw a few straws in the wind. In December 1741 Lord Hay thought he perceived a growing equality of parties in the Lords reminiscent of the days of William III and Anne. ° There was also some sense of a loss of direction among the ministry in the Lords: Newcastle confessed three days before the debate in January 1742 that 'nothing is yet thought of, or at least, determined for us to do in the House of Lords, on the State of the Nation'.21 Though as we have seen, the ministry won the vote by 24, through January 1742 their maj orities began to fall noticeably, the last two being 16 and 12. This decline coincided with Walpole's loss of a majority in the Commons, and it was this that finally forced his resignation on 11 February 1742.22It is conceivable, however, that the fall in support in the Lords may have been a contributory factor, for though a simple majority is enough to win and survive, small majorities were not a sound basis for managing the upper House. As was said about the majorities of 11 and 14 on the Mutiny Bill in 1718, they were 'thought very small considering the advantages the Court has by places, Money, etc.'.23 17

For differing interpretations of the crisis see T. F. J. Kendrick, 'Sir Robert Walpole, the Old Whigs and the Bishops, 1733-36: A Study in Eighteenth-Century Parliamentary Polities', Historical Journal, XI (1968), 421-45; and S. Taylor, 'Sir Robert Walpole, the Church of England and the Quakers Tithe Bill of 1736', Historical Journal, XXVIII (1985), 51-77. 18For a recent study of Walpole's patronage in the Commons see Eveline Cruickshanks, 'The Political Management of Sir Robert Walpole, 1720-42', in Britain in the Age of Walpole, ed. J. Black (1984), pp. 23-43. 19 B.L., Add. MS. 33002, ff. 400-1. This, however, represented a considerable decline from his calculation of a majority of 50 only a year earlier (ibid., 33034, ff. 1-3). 20 N.L.S., MS. 16584 (Fletcher of Saltoun MSS.), ff. 105-6: [Hay] to [Milton], 19 Dec. 1741. 21 The Correspondence of the Dukes of Richmond and Newcastle, 1724-50, ed. T. J. McCann (Sussex Record Soc., LXXIII, 1984), p. 81. 22 See W. A. Speck, "The Most Corrupt Council in Christendom": Decisions on Controverted Elections, 1702-42', Party and Management in Parliament, 1660-1784, ed. C. Jones (Leicester, 1984), pp. 107-21. 23 Royal Archives, Windsor Castle, Stuart Papers [hereafter cited as R. A., S. P. ] 28/33: J. Churchill to -?-, 24 Feb. 1718. See also J. Black, British Foreign Policy in the Age of Walpole (Edinburgh, 1985), pp. 81-2.

92

Britain in the First Age of Party 3

Parliamentary management always presented the Crown with a problem. As far as the upper House was concerned a solution was sought among the privy councillors, and under Charles II some attempt was made by the servants of the Crown systematically to manage business. The Earl of Danby was largely instrumental in developing this early reliance on officeholders. They were the natural leaders of any government group, being not only involved in the King's administration but as peers automatically members of the upper House. These Crown servants were to form the core of every succeeding attempt to create a 'party of the Crown' in the Lords. The early years of the eighteenth century, while the parties in the Lords were fairly in balance, were years when control of the government was under the 'duumvirate' of Godolphin and Marlborough, two 'managers' for the Queen who had no strong party ties. During these years the composition of the ministry gradually changed hue, shifting from Tory (with a few moderate Whigs) to wholly Whig. Under these circumstances the ministry's support in the Lords was often shaky and strong opposition was a tool used to force members of the Whig Junto into office (such as Sunderland in 1706) or force members of the administration out (such as Harley in 1708). A new element was thrown into the equation with the Union of England and Scotland in 1707. Sixteen Scottish representative peers were sent to Westminster and these were subject to re-election along with members of the lower House. In theory they were representatives of North Britain who safeguarded their country's position within the Union. The logic of politics soon asserted itself, however, and after the 1710 general election no peer was returned who was not on the government's list. Occasionally the ministry had to bow to the pressure of circumstances as when Lord Oxford allowed some Jacobites to be elected in 1713, but these elections usually demonstrated the government's inherently strong position. The Earl of Hay (younger brother of the 2nd Duke of Argyll) was dropped from the ministry's list in 1713, for opposition to Oxford, and despite the pre-eminent position of the Argyll clan in Scotland he was not re-elected. The Scots quickly gained the reputation of ministerial lackeys, and by 1733 a Scot could in all truthfulness write that 'our peerage had . . . fallen into universal Contempt for their low and slavish Complyance to whatever was in power, and even a B[isho]p was not now a Name of more Reproach than a Scotch Lord'.24 Yet the Scots always carried a threat of disruption to 24

N.L.S., MS. 7044 (Yester papers), ff. 43-5: James Erskineto [Tweeddale], 21 Oct. 1733. In fairness to the Scots it should be remembered that they were, on ayerage, much poorer than the English peers and therefore relied more on Crown salaries and pensions. See D. Szechi, 'Some Insights on the Scottish M.P.s and Peers Returned in the 1710 Election', Scottish Historical Review, LX (1981), 61-8.

The House oj Lords and Parliamentary Stability 93 any ministry careless over Scottish affairs. On such occasions they had to be wooed or bullied back into line. The Earl of Oxford tried systematically to develop a 'party of the Crown' in the Lords.25 Unlike Godolphin and Marlborough, Oxford was a party man: in the 1690s he had changed from a Country Whig to Tory. Yet he had worked with the duumvirate as Secretary of State between 1704 and 1708. When he attained power in 1710 he fought hard to maintain a moderate administration, strongly based on the Tory party but retaining Court Whigs. This he managed to do, though with increasing lack of success, until early 1714 when, despite a rearguard action, the last Court Whig left the ministry. Oxford had realized that a strong party of the Crown would enable him both to retain the services of the Court Whigs and to keep his more militant Tory supporters in check. The three constituents of Oxford's party were the Queen's servants, whose numbers he increased between 1710 and 1714, pensioners of the Crown, and the Scots. Though not totally reliable in times of crisis, together these three elements served Oxford as a basis for his management of the Lords until increasing difficulties over peace and the Protestant Succession caused a disintegration of the party of the Crown. Oxford's quarrel with Bolingbroke was a major factor in the ministry's weakening hold over the Lords, 6 for a coherent group of Crown servants was the sine qua non of the party's viability. Walpole, as an observer of Oxford's ministry from the Commons, cannot but have witnessed the successes and failings of Anne's last ministry. His grasp of essentials was undoubtedly strengthened by his experiences during the Whig Schism, when control of the Lords by Sunderland and Stanhope was under threat from the defection of Walpole and Townshend's supporters. Walpole could not fail to realize that any major split in the Whig party would prove a fundamental blow to the control of Parliament by any ministry. Minor defections could also prove troublesome. Thus, unencumbered by any of Oxford's ideas of a moderate administration, Walpole and Townshend set about building up a strong party of the Crown. In this Walpole was fortunate that death removed his two chief rivals, Stanhope and Sunderland, in 1721 and 1722. Walpole had inherited a strong episcopal bench from Sunderland, who had claimed in 1721 that 'we shall now have nineteen Whig Bishops out of 26 which is a pretty reasonable proportion'.27 Again death favoured Walpole by removing two thirds of the bench between 1721 and 1724, and Whig clerics were installed in 17 dioceses. By 1742 19 bishops had 25

See C. Jones, '"The Scheme Lords, the Neccessitous Lords and the Scots Lords": The Earl of Oxford's Management and the "Party of the Crown" in the House of Lords, 1711-14', Party and Management in Parliament, pp. 12.3-67. 26 For a full account of the quarrel see Sheila Biddle, Bolingbroke and Hurley (1975). 27 B.L., Add. MS. 32686, f. 204: to Newcastle, 21 Sept. 1721.

94 Britain in the First Age of Party received their initial promotion during Walpole's ministry and of the remaining seven all but one (Worcester) had been translated to richer sees.28 Here was a source of government support in the Lords that was denied to Oxford. Few bishops died between 1710 and 1714 and those that did were all Tory, so that there 'was no change in the overall balance of power. Walpole also had the advantage of little royal interference in episcopal appointments, whereas both Godolphin and Oxford had had to contend with the strong personal involvement of Queen Anne, whose preferences might often run counter to the government's.29 Under Oxford the bulk of the bench of bishops was in opposition, dominated by the Whig Archbishop Tenison of Canterbury/ Walpole's episcopal troops were equally well disciplined from 1723 under the leadership of Edmund Gibson, Bishop of London, who became known as 'Walpole's Pope'. The bishops, along with the Scots, acquired a reputation of subservience to the ministry which was partially true. During the early years of George I's reign the ideological make up of the bench under went a change, from politically high versus low Church, to a coalition hostile to change in the position of the Dissenters versus a small group in favour of concessions. Sunderland won over more bishops to the latter group thus strengthening his position in the Lords and helping to pass the repeal of the Occasional Conformity and Schism Acts in December 1718. Under Walpole's patronage the position was reversed and the conservative ideology of the bench triumphed. As the differences over the Dissenters remained, however, any future change in Walpole's ecclesiastical policy was bound to cause friction with the bishops. This happened in 1736. Though it was not unknown for the whole of the bench to vote against the ministry as for example over the bill to prevent stockjobbing on 28 March 1734, which 'occasioned a general Laugh thro the whole House',32 it was very unusual. The bishops' wholesale opposition over the Quaker Tithes bill in 1736, however, was a disaster for Walpole. He had badly miscalculated and the bench to a man voted against the bill on commital, which was defeated by 19 votes. The scale of this defeat was not due only to the bishops. Many erstwhile loyal supporters voted the bill down. These defections are partly explained by the contention that by the time of the vote Walpole had been forced by the opposition to 28

See London Diaries of William Nicolson, p. 62; B.L., Add. MS. 32993, f. 223. See G. V. Bennett, 'Robert Harley, the Godolphin Ministry and the Bishopric Crisis of 1707', E.H.R., LXXXII (1967), 726-46. 30 See Jones, 'Scheme Lords', p. 124. 31 See G. M. Townend, 'Religious Radicalism and Conservatism in the Whig Party under George I: The Repeal of the Occasional Conformity and Schism Acts', Parliamentary History (forthcoming). I should like to thank Dr. Townend for allowing me to read his article prior to publication. 32 R. A., S.P. 169/186: Nathaniel Mist to James Edgar, 24 [April] 1734. 29

The House of Lords and Parliamentary Stability 95 33 withdraw ministerial support from the bill. The popular idea that all bishops, except for the 1736 crisis, gave Walpole slavish support does not, however, stand up to closer analysis. Towards the end of Walpole's administration, there was a small group who are to be found in opposition.34 Of these, two, Reynolds of Lincoln and Smallbrokc of Lichfield and Coventry, were in constant opposition from the mid-1730s; in fact Reynolds was regarded as an opponent from 1733. In 1736, a third bishop, Benson of Gloucester, had told Gibson that he reserved the right to dissent from the government if necessary and that as a result he had given up all ideas of promotion. On the vote to remove Walpole in 1741, Reynolds and Smallbroke voted in favour, while the rest of the bench voted against. Significantly, however, by early 1742 Newcastle had detected a slide in episcopal support, calculating 16 supporters only with four possible opponents and four doubtful.35 The same picture of general reliability punctuated by individual revolt or brief co-ordinated opposition characterizes the Scottish representative peers. Of the 37 Scots who sat in the Lords between 1721 and 1742, 15 at one time or another opposed, or were considered opponents of the ministry. In the middle years of Walpole's administration (in particular 1733-34) opposition came mainly from the members of the Squadrone Volante, a Whig group opposed to the Argyll faction. Though a Whig and an officeholder, Argyll himself was proud, unstable and erratic, and eventually went into opposition in the late 1730s, while his brother Hay was, for most of the ministry's life, entrusted with the management of Scotland.36 The Squadrone paid the price of opposition and were dropped from the ministry's list at the 1734 general election and failed to get reelected, just as Hay himself had failed in 1713. After 1734, despite such contentious issues as the inquiry into the Porteous Riots in 1737, there was little concerted opposition from the Scots, only Bute (a nephew of Argyll's) and Buccleuch going into outright opposition. Both also paid the penalty in 1741. Overall the Scots probably proved more amenable to ministerial control under Walpole than they had under Oxford. This may be largely 33

Cobbett, Part. Hist., IX, 1219-20. For the bill see the works cited in note 17 above. Five bishops voted against the ministry on the Spanish Convention on 1 March 1739 (An Exact List of the Lords, Spiritual and Temporal; Who Voted For and Against the Late Convention. In which is shown, The large Sums of Money paid yearly to several Noble Lords. [1739]), and four over the South Sea Company directors on 19 Feb. 1739 (Hertfordshire R.O., D/EP F250 [Panshangcr papers]: John Savage to [Cowper], 19 Feb. 1738 [/9]). 35 Huntington Library, San Marino, California, Gibson Collection, 'Bishop Gibson Letters': 23July 1736; B.L., Add. MS. 33003, ff. 400-1. 36 For Hay's roleseej. M. Simpson, 'Who Steered the Gravy Train, 1707-66?', Scotland in the Age of Improvement, ed. N. T. Phillipson and R. Mitchison (Edinburgh, 1970), pp. 47-72; J. S. Shaw, The Management of Scottish Society, 1707-64 (Edinburgh, 1983). While Hay was a representative peer, Argyll sat in the Lords by virtue of his English earldom of Greenwich. 34

96 Britain in the First Age of Party due to the length of Walpole's tenure of office. Twenty years enabled him to establish a tight grip on patronage, a form of persuasion to which the Scots, because of their relative poverty, were particularly susceptible. The Crown servants - those in offices of profit or honour - also grew under Walpole's regime. In 1714 there were 69 and by 1720 the figure had risen to 83. This rise was maintained and by 1739 it was claimed that about 100 lords were in state employment. This certainly provided the prime minister with a dependable group at the centre of the party of the Crown. The vote of 1 March 1739 on the Spanish Convention proves the point: of the 81 officeholders and pensioners who voted only eight were against the ministry." This evidence of the power of patronage — or 'corruption' - angered the opposition. In the words of the Duke of Whartori in 1727, peers tempted by office preferred 'the smiles of the Court to the friendship of their party'. The opposition, however, were whistling in the wind, for few peers with incomes from the ministry were prepared to make the sacrifice of open opposition. Many were largely dependent upon the government for the funds to keep up a life style commensurate with the dignity of a peerage. The purge of 1733 when Montrose, Stair, Marchmont, Bolton and Cobham had lost their places (and the last two, more significantly, their regiments) was not forgotten.39 Even in times of crisis the bulk of the government's supporters held steady. 4

Sometime shortly after the emergence of the party of the Crown there appears a further development in what may be termed the 'institutionalisation' of the management of the Lords. John Sainty, in two pioneering studies, has shown that the early years of George I's reign saw the appearance of two important 'offices of management': the 'leader' of the House and a regular chairman of committees. The second of these two emerged at the end of Anne's reign when the 3rd Earl of Clarendon gradually came to dominate the chairmanship of both the select committees and the Committee of the Whole House. By the time of his death in 1723, Clarendon was virtually the only lord performing these functions. Since 1713 he had been receiving a pension of £2,000 a year on the Irish establishment, which was probably in recompense for 37

See An Exact List, cited in note 34 above. Hertfordshire R.O., D/EP F57, f. 81: to [Cowper], 24 Aug. 1721. 39 Plumb, Walpole, II, 280-1. The removal of their regiments from Bolton and Cobham, and Westmorland (in 1737 for also voting against the ministry) shocked the social elite for the colonelcy of a regiment was regarded as a property right purchased for cash. 40 J. C. Sainty, The Origin of the Leadership of the House of Lords', B.I.H.R., XLVII (1974), 53-73; idem, The Origin of the Office of Chairman of Committees in the House of Lords (House of Lords Record Office Memorandum No. 52, 1974). 38

The House of Lords and Parliamentary Stability

97

his role in the Lords. After Clarendon's death the position of chairman was assumed successively by the 7th Lord Delawarr (1724-34) and the 8th Earl of Warwick (1734-59). The latter also received a pension.41 Important as it was to a ministry to have a loyal supporter in the position of chairman of committees his role in the overall management of the House was limited. The emergence of the office of 'leader' of the Lords around 1717 was a much more significant development. The leader's primary function, as defined by Sainty, was the organizing of the pre-sessional meetings of government supporters among peers and bishops in order to acquaint them with the contents of the King's speech at the opening of each parliamentary session. This function arose out of a need to coordinate an address in reply to the speech from the throne. This address was a feature from at least Charles II's reign, and probably much earlier, but the regular selection in advance of the debate of a certain lord to move the address developed during Anne's reign. The Oxford ministry also employed some system of pre-scssional meetings. Bolingbroke, the senior Secretary of State, was organizing meetings of selected groups of peers before Parliament sat. In 1714, along with his senior colleagues, he worked systematically through a list of lords calculating support immediately before the session.42 It was not, however, until around 1717 that regular pre-sessional meetings appear to have become a feature of the ministry's management of the Lords. The politician who emerged as responsible for coordinating these meetings was the senior Secretary of State. This major Cabinet officer thereafter provided the focal point of the government's strategy of management.43 Before the emergence of the 'leader' ministerial management seems to have been something of an ad hoc affair, a question of individual ministers responding to a crisis. Even under Oxford, the ministry on occasion lost control of the House because of inadequate preparation or lack of coordination.44 Clearly when major political figures were in the Lords there was inevitably some diffusion of responsibility unless one senior minister emerged as responsible for management, as Godolphin did in 1702-8. Oxford, of course, was hampered by his rivalry with Bolingbroke, which produced two centres of power and management, often working in conflict. Walpole, who led the ministry from the Commons, suffered from none of these drawbacks. The dominance of the Lords by the Whig party laid the basis for a tighter control of management, and for some reason the task fell to the Secretary of State 4!

Clarendon also had a pension of£l, 000 between IVlOand 1713. See Sainty, Originof the Office of Chairman, pp. 3-4. 42 Huntington Lib., LO 9379 (Loudoun papers): Bolingbroke to Loudoun, 1 March 1713; Letters and Correspondence . . . of. . . Lord Vise. Bolingbroke, ed. G. Parke (4 vols., 1798), IV, 437. 43 Sainty, 'Origin of the Leadership', pp. 55-9. 44 Jones, 'Scheme Lords', pp. 134-5, 139-43.

98 Britain in the First Age of Party for the North to become the agent for this change. The 3rd Earl of Sunderland appears to have been the first politican to emerge with a definable role as 'leader' of the Lords.45 His personality certainly fitted him to the task, and may have been the decisive factor in the senior Secretary taking on this role. A life-long interest in parliamentary management, both in the Commons and the Lords, is evinced by the survival in his papers of many management lists. His interest in the minutiae of the manipulation of M.P.s and peers is clear, and only equalled in the period under consideration by Oxford and Newcastle. Sunderland had had previous experience while Secretary of State in the Godolphin ministry of organising meetings of supporters before Parliament met, often at his own country house, Althorp. The political circumstances of the Whig Schism of 1717-20, which witnessed the appearance of the role of the leader of the House, were propitious. The first pre-sessional meeting list to survive dates from November 1717 when the administration of Sunderland and Stanhope were making special efforts to woo back many of the peers who had defected from the government with Walpole and Townshend. The Schism obviously lent urgency to the necessity to develop a tighter form of control and the system was partially successful in bringing some peers back into the fold.47 The experiment was repeated the following year under Stanhope, when the ministry was desperate to organize its forces for the programme of reform legislation it hoped to carry through. The year 1720 saw the healing of the Whig split, and upon the death of Stanhope in February 1721 Townshend took over the leadership of the Lords. Until 1730 there is little evidence surviving of further presessional meetings. The first list after November 1718 is for March 1723, prior to the trial of Atterbury. Clearly the trial called for extensive management, as the Tories would be fighting the ministry at every stage. The years following the trial were relatively quiet and only four further lists survive up to 1730. Upon Lord Harrington's succeeding Townshend as Secretary of State for the North in May 1730, presessional lists begin to appear more frequently. The 1730s, however, were more critical years for the administration. 48 45

Sainty, 'Origin of the Leadership', pp. 57, 67. This may be a reflection of the survival of their papers in greater quantities than other politicians. Many of the papers of Sunderland were seized at his death by Townshend and Walpole and destroyed. For the activities of Sunderland as a psephologist, see Holmes, British Politics, p. 18. 47Jones, 'Impeachment of the Earl of Oxford', pp. 74-5, 80-5. 48 Sainty, 'Origins of the Leadership', p. 67. Sainty was unable to find any lists between 1736 and 1754 (ibid., pp. 58, 68), but two letters survive concerning the acceptance of invitations to meetings in 1739 and 1741 (Huntington Lib., ST 57 [Stowe papers], vol. 52, p. 71; vol. 55, p. 309: [Chandos] to Harrington, 14 Nov. 1739, 3 Dec. 1741). There is also a letter which confirms that a meeting took place on 22 Nov. 1719 (Christ Church, Oxford, Wake MS. 8, f. 156: Sunderland to [Wake], 23 Nov. 1719). 46

The House of Lords and Parliamentary Stability 99 Apart from the emergence of the pre-sessional meeting, upon which Sainty bases his hypothesis for the 'leadership' of the Lords, what evidence do we have of the senior Secretary of State coordinating management once the House was in session? Unforunately the figures who occupied the office in the Walpole ministry have left either an attenuated collection of papers with little Lords material (Townshend) or no personal papers at all (Harrington). There is certainly some evidence to show that Townshend organized mid-sessional meetings for the discussion of tactics, drafted the King's speeches, and instructed Newcastle on how Parliament should be conducted.49 There is also evidence to show that Harrington was at least involved in pre-sessional meetings.50 Unfortunately for the balanced view, two other major politicians have left extensive collections of papers which show that they were important figures in the management of the Lords: the Duke of Newcastle and Lord Hardwicke. In fact the sheer bulk of the Newcastle papers may have given historians a false idea of who actually ran the Lords under Walpole. Newcastle has been seen as playing the central role, and this view has been perpetuated by his latest biographer.51 Whilst not wishing to deny the duke's importance, this is too simple a view. With the removal of Townshend in 1730 the question of who ran the Lords becomes easier to answer. Newcastle with ten years experience or more of the minutiae of parliamentary organization, does emerge as a major figure. Despite the fact that pre-sessional meetings continued to be held at Harrington's house, as were meetings organized during the parliamentary session,52 the bulk of the lists are in the Newcastle papers and have the appearance of being drawn up by him.,Even those surviving in the State Papers appear to be his. Harrington's hand is nowhere evident. Allowing for the accidents of survival, it does seem that in the 1730s Newcastle rather than Harrington should be regarded as the 'leader' of the Lords according to Sainty's definition. There is no question of Newcastle not being a first rate organizer and lobbyist, but he was on the whole an erratic speaker, diffident and blundering and often not on top of his subject. 'Newcastle', it was observed in 1731, 'spoke half an Hour with his usual Eloquence, but no Creature could tell what he would be at till he concluded with these Words, viz. / therefore am for throwing out the [Pension] Bill'53 4 " S.R.O., GD220/5/1000/13 (Montrose papers): [John Graham] to [Mungo Graham], 14 March 1723; W. Coxe, Memoirs of the Life and Administration of Sir Robert Walpole, Earl ofOrford (3 vols., 1798), II, 492-4." 51 Sec note 48 above; Coxe, Walpole, II, 696-7; Sainty, 'Origin of the Leadership', pp. 67-8. 51 R. Browning, The Duke of Newcastle (1975), pp. 61-2, 77, but cf. 69-70. 52 Hertfordshire R.O., D/EP F250: Savage to [Cowper], ISJan. 1741 [/2]. 53 R.A., S.P. 143/187: Mist to Edgar, 22 March 1731.

100 Britain in the First Age of Party Walpole, in the crisis year of 1733, realised the weakness of the leadership in the Lords and in 1733-34 called up Lords Hervey, Hardwicke and Talbot. Hervey was a brilliant debater whose acerbic wit could cope with anything the opposition could throw at him. He was responsible for drafting at 48 hours notice both the King's speech and the Lords' address for the 1734 session. Clearly Walpole had his eye on him, and equally clearly Newcastle opposed his elevation.54 Walpole seems to have been anxious to spread the load carried by Newcastle, who was described as having too many irons in the fire, 'to all which he gives vast Attention and intense Application, even minute particulars, which keeps him constantly employed and in a hurry'.55 Newcastle's animosity, however, did not spread to either Hardwicke or Talbot whom he considered gave 'additional strength [which] shows itself in Every Debate'.56 Hardwicke's main contributions were his legal expertise and organizational abilities. In the late 1730s, after he had succeeded as Lord Chancellor, he became in effect 'co-leader' of the House with Newcastle. The duke provided the daily grind of organization, while Hardwicke provided the intellectual strength and the technical information needed to outflank the opposition. A fourth member of Walpole's team was the Earl of Hay, the ministry's Scottish manager. He was prominent in debates, and not only on Scottish issues. Even the prime minister himself, witnessing an attack upon Hay in the Lords, once referred to him as 'the Scots W[al]p[o]lc'.:'7 He was, however, vulnerable to charges of corruption emanating from Scotland, and during the debates in 1737 on the Porteous riots Hay sometimes found discretion the better part of valour.38 His position was weakened in 1739 when his brother Argyll went into permanent opposition. The final member of the leadership team was the prime minister himself. How closely Walpole was involved in the day to day organization of the House is not clear. Certainly in time of crisis he was personally involved. He was a lobbyist of the first importance, as several lists concerning the Pension bills in 1731-32 show, whilst the South Sea Company crisis in 1733 saw him whipping his supporters into the

54 Lord Hervey and his Friends, 1726-38, ed. the Earl of Ilchester (1950), pp. 186-7; John, Lord Hervey, Some Materials Towards Memoirs of the Reign of King George II, ed. R. Sedgwick (3 vols., 1931), I, 237; R. Halsband, Lord Hervey: Eighteenth-Century Courtier (Oxford, 1973), p. 166. 55 B.L., Add. MS. 27733, f. 67: Charles Dclafayc to Essex, 21 April 1734. 56 Ibid., f. 63: Newcastle to Essex, 20 April 1734. 57 S.R.O., GD124/15/1431 (Mar and Kellie papers): [Cleland] to [Grange], 21 March [1734]. 58 SeeR.A., S.P. 195/139; 196/28, 76, 100: A. Cockburn to Edgar, 28 April, 5, 12,16 May 1737.

The House of Lords and Parliamentary Stability 101 Lords. He also attended sittings. Besides wishing to hear for himself important debates, one can see in his presence a ministerial ploy to keep waverers in line, much as in Anne's reign the sovereign herself would attend incognito specifically in order to bolster the ministry's position.60 By the mid-1730s it is clear that a form of collective leadership had evolved under the tight control of the prime minister. Other peers outside the central group, most notably Walpole's son-in-law, Lord Cholmondely, were involved in some aspects of management. The position of Walpole at the centre of the web of organization is emphasised by his decision to make Hervey Privy Seal in 1739, a move again opposed by Newcastle, for the latter saw that Hervey's new position would effectively carry with it leadership of the Lords. '

5

Though there was no official opposition in the modern sense in the Lords, there were groups who opposed a particular ministry and its policies. These were based on party: for as party provided a mechanism for governmental control of Parliament, it equally provided the means for organized opposition. In the early years of the eighteenth century the Whigs under the experienced leadership of the Junto forced themselves into government in 1705-8 by successful opposition to the Godolphin ministry, and later under Oxford managed by their political skills to ensure the survival of the Whig party itself.62 The Junto were aided in this task by the split within the Tory party and ministry. The succession of the Hanoverians in 1714 did not see the immediate complete prescription of the Tory party, but within a year the few Hanoverian Tories included in the ministry fell from favour. The Tories soon learnt the frustration of opposition with little opportunity to harry the ministry. The Whig Schism of 1717-20 appeared to change that, but the alliance of dissident Whigs and Tories did not outlive the summer of 1717. The rapprochement of the two wings of the Whig party in 1720 again presented the Tories with a problem of opposition. Tory attendance dropped and a small group of active politicians emerged. The policy they adopted was one of attrition. Lord Orrery, a leader of the 59 P.R.O., S.P. 36/22, f. 146; ibid., 45/1; Huntington Lib., ST 57, vol. 41, p. 347: [Chandos] to Walpole, 24 May 1733; N.L.S., Dcp. 313/534/488a (Sutherland papers): Walpole to [Sutherland], 21 May 1733. 60 For Anne, sec Holmes, British Politics, pp. 390-1. George I and George II never attended incognito. For evidence of Walpole attending the Lords see note 57 above, and S.R.O., GD150/3476/48 (Morton papers): Morton to Aberdour, 6 Feb. 1735. 61 B.L., Add. MS. 35406, f. 164: Newcastle to [Hardwickc], 14 Oct. 1739. 62 Holmes, British Politics, p. 384.

102 Britain in the First Age of Party new group, wrote to the Pretender that the way forward was63 plain and obvious, 'tis our business to perplex the administration, to increase the minds of the people against our present gouernours [sic] and by all manner of ways to make 'em as odious and as contemptable as possible in the eyes of the world both at home and abroad.

Attrition underpinned the philosophy of Tory opposition for the rest of Walpole's regime. Tactics designed 'only to perplex the ministry' were used over the Spanish Convention Treaty of 1739 as well as over the almost annual Place bills brought before Parliament. Lord Bathurst confided in 1731 that the opposition had no hopes of carrying that year's bill, 'but if we can gain ground each year it may be suppos'd that we shall succeed at last'.64 The techniques adopted by the Tories were, first to use the ministry's own methods of management, and secondly to appeal to the public outside Parliament over the heads of the ministry. These developments, which were to have important repercussions for the future opposition in the Lords, were adopted by a new steering group within the ranks of the opposition which emerged and collapsed within the short period ] 721-3. This group was known as 'Cowper's cabal' after the former Whig Lord Chancellor, who had resigned from the ministry in 1718 and had become increasingly disillusioned with the regime. The other leading figure was the Jacobite Bishop Atterbury. Cowper brought his vast parliamentary experience to the group and was undoubtedly responsible for developing their new techniques. Atterbury brough mercurial literary talents and combativeness to bear on the cabal's propaganda. The group was clearly inclined towards Jacobitism.65 In mid-October 1721 the cabal held a pre-sessional meeting in imitation of those held by the ministry. The list for the meeting shows a well developed organization.66 The central group of the cabal seems to have consisted of ten peers and two bishops, and they enlisted the support of three M.P.s to lobby a further 31 peers and one bishop. The results, however, were less than might have been expected, for in the section of 1721-22 the opposition only mustered an average of 22 in divisions against the ministry. The following session of 1722-23 showed a marked improvement with average votes of 34. This was undoubtedly due to the trial of Atterbury, which united the various strands of the 63

R.A., S.P. 55/67: 28 Oct. 1721. Ibid., 216/31: [Cockburn] to [Edgar], 31 May 1739; Bedfordshire R.O..J 1512 (St. John of Blctso papers): to [St. John], 26 Feb. 1730/1. f '5 See Colley, In Defiance of Oligarchy, pp. 63-4; and G. V. Bennett, The Tory Crisis in Church and State, 1688-1730: The Career of Francis Atterbury, Bishop of Rochester (Oxford, 1975), pp. 231-2. 66 P.R.O., S.P. 35/40/423. See also Colley, In Defiance of Oligarchy, pp. 63-4, 315 note 30. M

The House of Lords and Parliamentary Stability 103 Tory party. Atterbury's exile in June 1723 and Cowper's death the following October removed the driving force from the opposition and the steam went out of their campaign: 'many of the Tories thinking it better to lye still', reported Orrery in 1724, 'and to give no provocation where there is no prospect of success'.67 By 1727, on the accession of George II, most Tories flocked to the Court for they had been too long in the wilderness. They were to be disappointed and slowly their campaign of opposition picked up. The policy of attrition was restored and by 1731 a Tory peer was able to self-nghtcously say: 'it was not in our power to do much good, but we may have prevented some Evil'.69 The technique of systematically protesting, and printing the resulting protests was the main innovative gift of the cabal to the Tory party, and it was developed by Cowper to new levels of sophistication. ° Peers and bishops dissenting from the result of a division in the Lords had the right to enter a dissent in the Journals of the House. This could also be accompanied by a protest listing in detail the reasons. Such protests had on occasions been used effectively in the past, but the two areas in which the cabal broke new ground were in the frequency with which they protested and in the publication of these protests as propaganda. The efficacy of this form of appeal to public opinion had been appreciated at least as early as 1701. It was then that Lord Normanby moved that the Lords' protestations over proceedings on the impeachment of the four Whig peers might be published by the House. Wharton opposed, saying that the lords who had protested might, if they pleased, publish the protests themselves, to which Normanby responded that this would certainly ensure a better public reception for 'one book forbid to be printed usually sold much better than any that were licensed'.71 The appeal to the 'people' was particularly apt, as proceedings in Parliament were supposed to be secret. The only official publication was the Votes of the House of Commons, published regularly each session. There was no equivalent for the Lords and, indeed, the upper House jealously guarded its privilege. The stream of protests from the 67

R.A., S.P. 74/58: to [the Pretender], 10 May 1724. By 1725 he was describing the Tories' campaign as 'idolent and careless' (ibid., 82/18: to [same], 7 May 1725). 68 Ibid., 107/150, 108/73: Orrery to [the Pretender], 30June, HJuly 1727. 69 Huntington Lib., HA 12946 (Hastings papers): Vane to Huntingdon, 30 March 1731. 70An examination of the Panshanger (Cowper) papers at the Hertfordshire R.O. shows clearly that Cowper was the main author of the texts of the protests (see, e.g., D/ EP F182, ff. 38-9, 73-\22 passim; F185, f. 9). W. C. Lowe ('The House of Lords, Party and Public Opinion: Opposition Use of the Protest, 1760-82', Albion, XI [1979], 143-56) is incorrect in claiming that the early years of George Ill's reign saw the instigation of mass protesting for the purposes of effecting public opinion. 71 Chatsworth MSS. (the Duke of Devonshire and the Trustees of the Chatsworth Settlement, Chatsworth, Derbyshire), Finch-Halifax MSS., Box 5, bundle 7: Nottingham to H. Finch, 17June 1701.

104 Britain in the First Age of Party opposition gave a very wide audience access to parliamentary news. These were read everywhere from coffee-houses to foreign chancelleries. In the parliamentary session of 1722-3 there were 16 protests and three dissensions, of which 15 were later published in a 28page pamphlet called A Collection of the Several Protests in the House of Lords, In the Session of Parliament in the Years 1722 and 1723, to which was added in the second edition Bishop Atterbury's speech before the Lords.72 This naturally angered the ministry and Sunderland, in an attempt to stamp it out, successfully moved the Lords in February and March 1722 to vote that the protests be expunged from the official records of the House.73 In the long term this ploy failed, and the opposition continued to use the protest as an effective weapon. So much so that the opposition in the Commons in imitation of the Lords began to force motions which they knew they could not win so that they would be printed in the daily Votes of the House.74 This appeal to the public via the printed word undoubtedly had a great influence on the ministry. Walpole had the advantage over the opposition with the use of the Post Office for the distribution of printed propaganda. The administration also had access to large sums in the secret service funds. The opposition did, however, make creditable efforts in the distribution of its own propaganda, and its main journal, The Craftsman, became required reading in all walks of life including the courts of Europe where it was studied for its reports of parliamentary affairs.75 None of this was completely new. Oxford had used the press extensively as had his opponents.76 Indeed his antagonist Bolingbroke was one of the main figures behind the opposition's campaign against Walpole. Despite their ultimate failure, the opposition continued to wield a creditable organisation which gave their tactics backbone. They continued to hold mid-sessional meetings, particularly in times of crisis. These increased in size and duration until, in the crucial years of 1741 and 1742, such meetings might last two days and have as many as 80 peers at one and 230 M.P.s at another. 77 To keep opposition members simmering 72

The protests were initially issued as single sheets. After Sunderland's death in April 1722 a further three protests were expunged from the Journals in January 1723. Sec, for example, J. D. Alsop, 'Manuscript Evidence on the Quakers Bill of 1722', Journal of the Friends' Historical Society, LIV no. 3 (1980), 255-7. 74 R.A., S.P. 125/34: Hamilton to [Edgar], 13 Feb. 1729. 75 See M. Harris, 'Print and Politics in the Age of Walpole', in Britain in the Age of Walpole, pp. 188-210. For foreign interest, see Black, British Foreign Policy, pp. 88-9, 1612. 76 See J. A. Downie, Robert Harley and the Press: Propaganda and Public Opinion in the Age of Swift and Defoe (Cambridge, 1979). 77 N.L.S., IMS. 16583, f. 251: [J.Maule] to [Milton], 12 Feb. 1741; R. A., S.P. 239/58, 240/13: Cockburn'to [Edgar], 11 Jan., 15 Feb. 1741/2. For frequent meetings in 1735 see ibid., 177/39; same to [same], 23Jan. 1734J/5]. 73

The House of Lords and Parliamentary Stability 105 during the summer recesses, leaders spread news of the various lines of attack they intended to pursue. This may have been effective, though it also forewarned the ministry. In the end, however, the various wings of the opposition were usually pulling in different directions. In 1741, for example, when Walpole was under attack in both Houses, the business 'was set on foot by the D[uke] of Argyll and the party of his old whigs without either concerting measures with the Tories or acquainting them with the matter'. Carteret for one was under no illusions about the Crown's strength in the Lords: he carried out his opposition with no idea of succeeding, but 'to make a noise and to enter A Protest'.79 6

The history of the House of Lords in the first age of party is one of a growth of control by the executive. The development of coherent political parties with substantive differences between them provided an opportunity for the executive to develop the management of Parliament. The height of inter-party conflict was reached under Queen Anne when the parties were fairly evenly balanced in the Lords while one or other tended to dominate the Commons. This situation put the Lords firmly at the centre of the political arena: if the Commons was under the control of one party the only real chance the other party had of disrupting a ministry was in the upper House. Coupled with this was the fact that between 1702 and 1720 virtually all the major politicians from both parties were either in the Lords or were in due course called there. This 'golden age' of the House of Lords came to an end in the early years of Walpole's administration. The failure of the Peerage bill in December 1719 can be regarded as the symbol of the close of an era. Designed to restrict the Crown's prerogative in the creation of peerages it would have, in effect, created a closed oligarchy entrenched in law at the head of society and politics and a House of Lords immune from ultimate political control. Many peers and senior politicians had been shocked by Oxford's blatant use of power in 1711/12 when Queen Anne had created 12 peers in the space of five days. This power was never used again with such bold self-interest (despite the failure of the Peerage bill) until the Younger Pitt's creations in the 1780s, though the threat was always there. It is significant that the Peerage bill was defeated in the Commons by Walpole appealing as much to the social pretentions of M.P.s as to their political acumen. The return to power of Walpole seven months after the bill's defeat was a major turning point in the history of parliamentary development. 78

R.A., S.P. 232/12: Thomas Carte to [the Pretender], n.d., but received 14 April

1741. 79

N.L.S., MS. 16584, ff. 49-50: [Ilayj to [Milton], 10 Feb. [1741].

106 Britain in the First Age of Party Throughout his 20 years as prime minister, Walpole showed no inclination of going to the Lords despite many rumours to the contrary. His decision to remain in the Commons was a recognition that the centre of political power had shifted to the lower House. The Commons, of course, had always had an edge over the Lords for political importance in its ultimate control over finance. Parliamentary conventions had developed which laid down that money bills could only be initiated in the Commons and that the Lords could reject but could not amend such bills. Though it was perfectly possible to run the Treasury from the Lords, as both Godolphin and Oxford has done, the logic of the situation pointed towards the easier fulfilment of the role from the Commons. Walpole's fall in 1742 further illustrates the pre-eminence of the Commons. He resigned because he had lost his majority in the lower House (and thus could not guarantee the financial position of the King's government), though he still had a working (though declining) majority in the Lords and, above all, still had the confidence of the King. Before 1742 a minister could survive almost anything except the loss of the monarch's confidence; after 1742 the confidence of the Commons was necessary for parliamentary survival. Where did this development leave the House of Lords? Throughout the period under discussion the executive had sought increasing managerial control over the Lords. The Tory Lord Oxford had seriously developed the idea of a 'party of the Crown' made up of office-holders, natural supporters of the Crown, and (a new element) the Scottish representative peers. The two bonds which should have firmly cemented this managerial group together were political commitment and patronage. Political commitment was weakened first by Oxford's own desire to avoid one party rule, favouring instead a retention wherever possible of Court Whigs, and secondly by the fissile nature of the Tory party which culminated in the public split between Oxford and Bolingbrokc. Oxford certainly used patronage to the mininstry's advantage, but his own parsimonious nature and delight in conspiratorial politics prevented its full exploitation. None of these factors hampered Walpole. Presented with a dominant Whig party and a Treasury at his disposal, he exploited to the full patronage and increasing one party rule. The opposition was frequently to condemn patronage and the rush to accept 'foolish Ribbons, or empty Titles',80 but it was the lubricant of eighteenth-century government. Even the potential of ecclesiastical patronage was exploited, and the bishops came into the party of the Crown. The development of this more institutionalized form of management only strengthened executive control of the Lords. All, however, was not plain sailing as the crises of the 1730s illustrate. The Lords required careful continuous management if it was to provide 80

Correspondence of Jonathan Swift, IV, 327: Pulteney to Swift, 29 April 1735.

The House of Lords and Parliamentary Stability 107 the secure underpinning of a regime. Walpole frequently used the Lords as a long stop. Contentious issues, such as the almost annual Place bills, designed to restrict the executive's control of the Commons by excluding certain office-holders from the lower House, could have been dealt with in the Commons. Walpole, however, was unwilling to appear strongly against them in person. He preferred to let the 'Country' element in his own party have its head over this kind of measure, knowing that the Lords would either throw it out or amend it in such a way as to make it unacceptable to the Commons. This use of the Lords by Walpole to check embarrassing initiative from the Commons was not a new phenomenon; a similar use had been made of the upper House by Godolphin and Oxford.81 It was, however, a ploy that caused much resentment both amongst M.P.s who saw their cherished ideas thwarted and amongst some peers who resented the executive's exploitation of its power in the Lords: 'the Pension bill [of 1731] is just sent up to the Lords, who its said, must take the shame on themselves this year, as they did last, of throwing it out. However these things will raise ill Blood, and the ferment is very strong already'. On this occasion the ministry had the strength to throw the bill out in the Commons, 'but they thought it more advisable to have it done by the Lords, and when any thing very Scandalous is to be done, Walpole imposes it upon the Bishops, who it must be allowed are very good Scavengers'. 2 By 1741 it had become routine to throw out the Place bill with little discussion. These actions certainly placed a growing strain on the relationship between the two Houses. There had always been periods of conflict between the Lords and the Commons, and many resulted in tactical impasses in which legislation was lost. The most serious conflict in the first age of party was in the early years of Anne's reign over the case of Ashby v. White. In essence, this concerned the question of which House would control the right of elections. If the Lords' interpretation had triumphed, voting rights would have been declared rights of property and would have been subject to the law and thus to the House of Lords as the ultimate court of appeal. This the Commons could not accept; they claimed control over all disputed elections. The case was never finally settled, but left a legacy of concern whenever a dispute occurred between the two Houses. So much so that when in 1734 concern grew over the Lords' attempt to deprive Scottish burghs of certain rights a fear arose that this might develop into another Ashby v. White case.83 81

Holmes, British Politics, p. 384. Cambridge U.L., Cholmondeley (Houghton) MS. 1827: [William Morice] to [PAtterbury], 18 Feb. 1730[/1]; R. A., S.P. 143/182: Mist to [Edgar], 22 March 1731. 83 S.R.O., GD124/15/1427/3: Pulteney to [Grange], 25 Aug. 1734. For the most recent account see Eveline Cruickshanks, 'Ashby v. White: The Case of the Men of Aylesbury, 1701-4', Party and Management, pp. 87-106. 82

108 Britain in the First Age of Party The case may be seen as part of a wider pattern of events in which the Lords was attempting to assert its superior judicial position within the constitution (an advantage it had over the Commons). In 1675 the Lords finally established the right to hear equity appeals as well as those from the Court of Chancery. In 1698-9 two Irishlegal cases (Wardv. the Earl of Meath and the Bishop of Deny v. the London Society of Ulster) were appealed from the Irish to the English House of Lords. In both cases the English Lords decided that the Irish House had no appellate right. These decisions encouraged further appeals, culminating in Annesley v. Sherlock in 1718. The legal position was finally regularised by the Declaratory Act of 1720 which denied any rights of appeal to the Irish House of Lords. The Anglo-Scottish Union articles of 1707 had not provided for an appellate jurisdiction to replace that of the Scottish Parliament. The British House of Lords soon filled this vacuum in 1708 when it heard the case of Rosebery v. Inglis. By the 1720s much of the Lords judicial work was concerned with Scottish and Irish cases.84 As the first age of party drew to a close a more subtle relationship grew between the two Houses of Parliament. Peers had for a long time exercised a great influence in elections. This grew rapidly in the early eighteenth century, not always without difficulties, 85 so that by the midcentury a great many M.P.s owed their seats to the interest of peers. This meant that the peerage had a great deal of influence over the workings of the lower House. Thus while the position of the Lords declined in relative terms in the overall parliamentary strategy of the executive, the interest of the peerage in both Commons and Lords ensured that the upper House could not be written off. Paradoxically, because of this spread of aristocratic influence, the Lords may have required more cosseting under Walpole that it had under earlier administrations. This undoubted advance in the position of the peerage, both socially and financially, as well as politically since the late seventeenth century, and their involvement in the politics of both Houses together with the increasing control of the institutions of Parliament by the executive through the expanded use of patronage and an increasingly sophisticated system of management, all point to a growth of parliamentary stability at Westminster. This stability grew in the favourable soil of a one party state, so that disruptions and crises were largely the result of defections from the Whig party, for the small Tory opposition had been rendered impotent by its exclusion from government. This imbalance of parties in 84 London Diaries of William Nicolson, pp. 100-1, 671; A. J. MacLean, 'The 1707 Union: Scots Law and the House of Lords', Journal of Legal History, IV no. 3 (1983), 50-2. 85 See, for example, C. Jones, 'James Brydges, Earl of Carnarvon and the 1717 Hereford By-Election: A Case Study in Aristocratic Electoral Management', Huntington Library Quarterly, XL VI (1983), 310-20. For a discussion of the influence of the peerage on elections see Cannon, Aristocratic Century, pp. 104-15, andj. V. Beckett, The Aristocracy in England, 1660-1914 (Oxford, 1986), pp. 418-34.

The House of Lords and Parliamentary Stability 109 the Lords under Walpole ensured that the upper House could no longer act as chief fireraiser as it had under Queen Anne - there were too many well-trained hoses playing on likely points of conflagration for that. None the less, the ministry under Walpole could not afford to be complacent: a well run fire prevention service required constant attention. As Britain's parliamentary system grew more stable, the House of Lords, by acting as fireman, proved that it had a continuing central role within that system.

Bibliographical Note The House of Lords has, until quite recently, suffered from an unjustifiable historical neglect. Despite much work published in the last 20 years there is still no volume of synthesis on the Lords in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth century. A. S. Turberville's The House of Lords in the XVUlth Century (Oxford, 1927) laid the foundations for the modern study. He is much criticised, but is still an indispensible narrative treatment, though there is little attempt at the kind of analysis we would now expect. The appearance in 1967 of Geoffrey Holmes's British Politics in the Age of Anne with its seminal chapter on the Lords stimulated much research and publishing on the House for the same period. The most notable publication is Holmes's edition (with the present author) of The London Diaries of William Nicolson, Bishop of Carlisle, 1702-1718 (Oxford, 1985). It contains a long introduction dealing with the topographical, procedural and other aspects of the House which are a useful background to the politics. Each of the 13 parliamentary sessions has its own introduction covering political events. The diaries themselves are the major unofficial source for the upper House for the early eighteenth century. There are many articles available for the reign of Anne, the most important being either listed in the footnotes or following: G. Holmes, 'The Hamilton Affair of 1711-12: A Crisis in Anglo-Scottish Relations', E.H.R., LXXVII (1962), 257-82; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 83-108; G. Holmes and C. Jones, 'Trade, the Scots and the Parliamentary Crisis of 1713', Parliamentary History, I (1982), 47-77; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 109-38; C. Jones, 'Godolphin, the Whig Junto and the Scots: A New Lords' Division List from 1709', Scottish Historical Review, LVIH (1979), 158-74; E. Gregg and C.Jones, 'Hanover, Pensions and the "Poor Lords", 1712-13', Parliamentary

110

Britain in the First Age of Party

History, I (1982), 173-80; C. Jones, The Division that Never Was: New Evidence on the Aborted Vote in the Lords on 8 December 1711 on "No Peace Without Spain"', Parliamentary History, II (1983), 191-202. Daniel Szechi's Jacobitism and Tory Politics, 1710-14 (Edinburgh, 1984) has much useful material on the Tory party in the Lords which helps to correct the slight Whig bias in the work of Holmes and Jones. The periods either side of the reign of Anne have not seen much publication on the Lords. The best work for the reign of William III and Mary is H. Horwitz's Parliament, Policy and Politics in the Reign of William HI (Manchester, 1977); while the major article is Eveline Cruickshanks, D. Hayton and C. Jones, 'Divisions in the House of Lords on the Transfer of the Crown and Other Issues, 1689-1694: Ten New Lists', B.I.H.R., LIH (1980), 56-87. The reigns of the first two Georges has seen little appear that has not been cited in the footnotes. B. W. Hill's Growth of Parliamentary Parties, 1689-1742 (1976) is a good synthesis of a complex subject; while J. Cannon's Artistocratic Century: The Peerage of Eighteenth-Century England (Cambridge, 1984) has an interesting chapter on 'The sinews of power: political'. Several of the chapters in J. V. Beckett's The Aristocracy in England, 1660-1914 (Oxford, 1986) are relevant to the subject of this essay, especially chapter 12. Finally some of the articles listed here and in the notes have recently been reprinted, and are therefore more readily available, in Peers, Politics and Power: The House of Lords, 1603-1911, edited by C. Jones and D. L. Jones (Hambledon Press, 1986). The volume also contains a bibliography of writings on the Lords 1900 to 1985 and this should be the starting point for further reading.

6 The Development of the Political Press J. A. Downie

When, in British Politics in the Age of Anne, Geoffrey Holmes suggested that we 'study the vocabulary which contemporaries used to describe the political attitudes and questions of their own age' as the 'first step towards comprehending the character of the political world of Queen Anne's day', he also took his own first, and most significant, step in challenging the description of early-eighteenth-century English politics offered by Robert Walcott.1 Any examination of primary sources for the reign of Queen Anne reveals the absurdity of insisting that this is not 'the first age of party'. To remove the words Whig and Tory from the manuscript and printed literature of the period would be to render it unrecognizable and virtually meaningless. However reluctant some contemporaries were to admit it, however regrettable they considered it to be, it was 'necessary to use those foolish Terms'.2 The language of early-eighteenth-century politics was the language of party conflict. The nature of the conflict is more difficult to describe. There may have been a 'divided society', but did this mean that early-eighteenth-century Britain was politically unstable? While it is arguable that party rivalry at the centre of power and in the constituencies was a manifestation of fundamental social differences within the ruling elite that threatened to tear the nation apart, it is of course possible to interpret the party struggle in other ways. Linda Colley, therefore, has suggested that" despite its superficial extremism, Whig and Tory rivalry in the reign of William III and Queen Anne was not at base a source of political instability; rather it was a stylised, often ruthless, conflict which took place within a social consensus; a manifestation of the confidence and fundamental political unison of England's landed elite.

However, if we apply Holmes's dictum about studying the language of contemporary politics, we are sure to stumble across the vocabulary of violence. At the very beginning of Queen Anne's reign we find 1

Holmes, British Politics, p. 13. Cf. R. Walcott, English Politics in the Early Eighteenth Century (Oxford, 1956). 2 Jonathan Swift's phrase, used in the Preface to The Conduct of the Allies (1711). See The Prose Writing of Jonathan Swift, ed. H. Davis, etal (\4voh., Oxford, 1939-1975), VI, 5. 3 Linda Colley, In Defiance of Oligarchy: The Tory Party, 17J4-60 (Cambridge, 1982), p. 12.

112 Britain in the First Age of Party Sacheverell urging the' True Sons' of the Church of England 'to Hang out the Bloody Flag, and Banner of Defiance' against her enemies, Defoe parodying this by advocating 'the Gallows' and 'the Gallics' for Dissenters, and others worrying in turn lest The Shortest Way with the Dissenters was an attempt to 'play the Old Game of Forty One over again'.4 Certainly the government of the day was troubled. Sacheverell escaped punishment until 1710, but Defoe received a draconian sentence for writing and publishing a seditious libel. It is relatively easy to suggest reasons why there might seem to be a discrepancy between a state of underlying political stability and the actualities of polemical debate in early-eighteenth-century Britain. 'The issues which divided Whig and Tory in Anne's reign were very far from cosmetic, indeed, they continued to be operative long after the Hanoverian Succession in 1714', Colley concedes, 'but they were not as clear-cut, or felt to the same degree by all party sympathisers, as contemporary propaganda might suggest'.5 This observation can be taken further. It is not at all simple to separate the way in which contemporaries perceived the political realities of their own day from the smoke-screen created by the party propagandists. And the picture is obscured still further by the consideration that Whig and Tory almost certainly differed in their perception of what constituted the 'real' issues which divided the parties. In that these were neither cosmetic nor clear-cut, it is therefore practically impossible to say with any confidence whether or not they were indicative of the state of political stability envisaged by J. H. Plumb: 'the acceptance by society of its political institutions, and of those classes of men or officials who control them'. 6 Linda Colley argues that 'despite the superficial high-political turmoil at the end of Anne's reign, that state [of political stability] had already been achieved'. Again there is the insistence that surface appearance is not a reliable guide to the true character of politics in the early eighteenth century. Again such an assertion must be squared with the political language employed by the propagandists of the day:8 Here, has this Island of ours, for the greatest Part of twenty Years lain under the Influence of such Counsels and Persons, whose Principle and Interest it was to corrupt our Manners, blind our Understandings, drain our Wealth, and in Time destroy our Constitution both in Church and State; and we at last 4

Henry Sacheverell, The Political Union: A Discourse Shewing the Dependence of Government on Religion (1702), p. 59; [Daniel Defoe], The Shortest-Way with the Dissenters: Or Proposals For the Establishment of the Church (1702), Selected Writings of Daniel Defoe, ed. J. T. Boulton (Cambridge, 1975), p. 96; The Review and the Observator Review'd, with Some Observations thereon (1706), p. 6. 5 Colley, In Defiance of Oligarchy, p. 12. The italics are mine. 6 J. H. Plumb, The Growth of Political Stability in England, 1675-1725 (1967), p. xvi. 7 Colley, In Defiance of Oligarchy, p. 20. 8 Swift, Prose Writings, III, 12.

The Development of the Political Press

113

were brought to the very Brink of Ruin; yet by the Means of perpetual Misrepresentations, have never been able to distinguish between our Enemies and Friends. We have seen a great Part of the Nation's Money got into the Hands of those, who by their Birth, Education and Merit, could pretend no higher than to wear our Liveries.

Significantly, Swift, in this passage written in 1710, is addressing himself to those indicators of political stability sought by Plumb. But there is a difference. Swift argues that while right-minded men accept the existing political institutions, those in power 'for the greatest Part of [the] twenty Years' since 1690 were interested only in 'destroying] our Constitution both in Church and State'. According to Swift, only one part of the nation (or party) welcomes political stability. His response to 'those classes of men or officials who controlled]' the political institutions prior to the summer of 1710 is even more interesting. Not only does he not accept them, they are not of the landed elite at all. They are upstarts who should not be in a position to control his political institutions. None of this disproves Colley's suggestion that this was merely a manifestation of 'a stylised, often ruthless, conflict which took place within a social consensus'. Indeed it appears likely that Swift's primary polemical strategy in this particular Examiner paper is to identify his Whig opponents with the lower ranks of English society and then take his invective a stage further: even by merit they 'could pretend no higher than to wear our Liveries'. Curiously, Swift chooses to employ the class terminology of a hierarchical society in which 'we' rule those who are below us in the social order. Perhaps this is a clue. Swift is implying that there is, or should be, a social consensus; England's landed elite shouldbe united. It is surely no coincidence that much was made by propagandists of the growth of'a sort of property not known twenty years ago, [which] is now increased to be almost equal to the terra firma of our island'.9 The appeal that Swift is making is in essence a call for class unity in the face of incipient encroachments from below by unscrupulous, self-interested men, whose basic values are different from those upon which British political institutions are founded. The post-Revolution world, according to this analysis, has failed to satisfy the purposes for which the Revolution was undertaken in the first place: the protection of the rights and privileges of the ruling elite. In 1688 they were being threatened from above; now they are being threatened from below. It is all very well for historians to argue that this clash of interests was illusory, that 'it was absolutely proved by writers like Defoe' that by 1711 the interests of landed and monied men had become 'inextricably intermingled'. Certainly Defoe claimed that they 'had become fused in 9

'The Letters of Henry St. John to the Earl of Orrery, 1709-1711', eel. H. T. Dickinson, Camden Miscellany, XXVI (Camden Soc., 4th ser., XIV, 1975), p. 146.

114 Britain in the First Age of Party the common interests of the governing class'.10 But of course it was in Defoe's interests to say that this was so. The mere fact that he had to take such a line suggests strongly that by no means everybody was convinced of its truth. On the contrary, it indicates that contemporaries doubted that a state of social consensus had been reached. Similarly, although Lawrence Stone can assert that the tensions of the post-Revolution world 'never remotely threatened to destroy the political system',11 there is every indication that, whether or not his analysis is sound, he would not have been believed by contemporaries of Swift and Defoe. There is too much post hoc reasoning about all of this: the political system was not destroyed, therefore it was never threatened. It is then a small step to insisting that a state of political stability obtained from the Revolution onwards. The significance of developments that took place in the years after 1688 are often underestimated, few more so than those relating to the press, and yet we depend on the political publications of the age for much of our evidence. For example, the end of pre-publication censorship is surely of importance in any estimate of the growth of political stability, and yet, as an indicator of contemporary attitudes towards political institutions, it is rarely examined at all closely. When Abel Boyer observed that 'nothing more nearly concerns Englishmen than to be well acquainted with the state of their own country from time to time', 12 he was bearing witness to a development which had taken place since the Revolution, for the simple reason that it was only with the rise of the newspaper that information about national affairs became freely available. In turn, the newspaper was only permitted to assume its important role in the life of the nation after the expiry of the so-called Licensing Act in 1695. The consequences of this breakdown of government control over the press, though difficult to assess with confidence, were indeed far-reaching. Michael Harris notes that the emergence of 'Grub Street' as a concept 'was coincidental with the primary development of the newspaper press'. The significance of this complex of coincidences is not necessarily confined to the English book trade. Almost certainly, it contributed to the consolidation of political stability which followed on from the Revolution Settlement. It is possible to discern a change in the character of political propaganda after 1695. Previously pamphlets and newspapers (or 10

Sir George Clark, Three Aspects of Stuart England (1960), p. 42. L. Stone, 'Social Mobility in England, 1500-1700', Past and Present, No. 33 (1966), pp. 16-55. 12 An Address to the Nobility, Gentry, Merchants, and Proprietors of the National Funds. By the Author of the Monthly Political State of Great Britain, n.d., broadsheet. 13 M. Harris, 'Journalism as a Profession or Trade in the Eighteenth Century', Author/ Publisher Relations During the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries, ed. R. Myers and M. Harris (Oxford, 1983), p. 38. 11

The Development of the Political Press 115 newsbooks) had usually been published to meet a specific contingency, rather than as part of a process intended to result in an alteration .of political consciousness in the long term. Although this is a generalization, the political writings of both the Civil War period and the Exclusion crisis can be seen as ad hoc attempts to respond to political developments, and so, to an extent, can the literature which accompanied the Revolution of 1688.14 In this respect, however much individual writers preached the virtues of the status quo, their efforts could be seen as destabilizing. Instead of acting as a safety-valve, suggesting means through which policies might be changed without endangering the system itself, they tended to imply that the answer lay in extra-parliamentary action, or at least (in the case of the Exclusion crisis) that other methods would inevitably have to be resorted to if the desired objective could not be realised by constitutional means. In short, the press was basically the organ of radical change, albeit that, at times, the radicalism had a decidedly conservative air. After the Revolution this seems to be true no longer. Increasingly the press was used as a medium for political expression, but the appeal to public opinion actually lessened the danger of action outside the normal political channels. Or so it can be argued. The ministerial revolution of 1710, for instance, was an unprecedented shift of political power from one set of men to another. Burnet observed that 'so sudden and so entire a change of the ministry is scarce to be found in our history'. 15 The striking thing is how little the change proved to be destabilizing. Certainly the Whigs used extra-parliamentary methods to try to ruin the new ministry. Faults on Both Sides lists the ways in which the Whigs tried to convince the public that Harley and his henchmen would 'bring all things into confusion, and disable us from carrying on the war'.16 However, both ministry and opposition turned to the press to carry on the debate. 'Good little Pamphlets will be seasonable', remarked William Bromley, scarcely the politician most readily associated with propaganda, 'I hope due care will be taken to disperse them'.17 He was not to be disappointed, as Harley arranged for the defence of the change of ministry through an extensive press campaign, which finally went on the offensive to blame the previous administration for the nation's problems. The Whigs responded in kind. Badly mauled at the polls, and smarting from the comments of government propagandists like Swift, they continued to place a kind of naive optimism in the power of the printed word to 14

Cf. M. Goldie, The Revolution of 1689 and the Structure of Political Argument: An Essay and an Annotated Bibliography of Pamphlets on the Allegiance Controversy', Bulletin of Research in the Humanities, LXXXIII (1980), 473-564. 15 G. Burnet, History of His Own Time (6 vols., Oxford, 1833), VI, 10-11. 16 A Collection of Scarce and Valuable Tracts on the Most Interesting and Entertaining Subjects, cd. W. Scott (13 vols., 1809-1815), XII, 698. " Bodl., Ballard MSS. 38, fol. 150.

116 Britain in the First Age of Party influence public opinion, Maynwaring writing to the Duchess of Marlborough in the summer of 1711 that 'it is possible to scribble these men down'.18 We seem to be in the modern world. How had this come about, since there is little indication that, prior to 1695, men had viewed the press as a force that could change governments on its own? As Macaulay remarks with some disgust about those who refused to renew the Licensing Act: 'they knew not what they were doing, what a revolution they were making, what a power they were calling into existence'. At the Revolution, the old system of prepublication censorship had simply been endorsed, as it had been at the start of every reign since it was first introduced by Henry VIII. Renewed once more in 1693, the Licensing Act finally expired in 1695 because it was thought to be 'a law which in no wise answered the end for which it was made' — in other words, it was insufficently effective in regulating printing and publishing. In retrospect, politicians found it convenient to mouth appropriate sentiments about the importance of a free press, but Macaulay was more accurate when he regretted that in 1695: 'On the great question of principle, on the question whether the liberty of unlicensed printing be, on the whole, a blessing or a curse to society, not a word is said'.2 In The Craftsman, Bolingbroke claimed that the licensers represented 'the arbitrary Power of the Court and their Creatures', and suggested that the 'Court Party [had been] very unwilling to lose so great a Power'.22 But that was a retrospective view. Strangely, it was the ruling elite itself which objected to the freedom of the press in 1695, and various attempts were made in the next few years to reintroduce restrictions. The principal concern seems to have been one of freedom of information. The immediate effect of the end of the licensing system was the publication of large numbers of newspapers and political pamphlets. Previously only the official newspaper, The London Gazette, had carried 'authorized' versions of foreign and domestic news. The emergence of regular newspapers and periodicals giving information more or less freely, as well as offering political commentary in a variety of formats, changed irrevocably the face of British politics. By 1742, 'the London newspapers were established as a consistent element in the political life of

18

Quoted in H. L. Snyder, 'Arthur Maynwaring and the Whig Press, 1710-1712', Literatur ah Kritik des Lebens: Festschrift Zum 65. Ceburtstag Von Ludwig Borinski, ed. R. Haas, H.-J. Mullenbrock and C. Uhlig (Heidelberg, 1977), p. 121. 19 T. B. Macaulay, The History of England from the Accession of James the Second, ed. C. H. Firth (6 vols., 1913-15), V, 2482. 20 L.J., XV, 545. 21 Macaulay, History of England, V, 2482. 22 The Craftsman, no. 281: 20 Nov. 1731, quoted in R. Astbury, 'The Renewal of the Licensing Act in 1693 and its Lapse in 1695', The Library, 5th ser., XXXIII (1978), 325n.

The Development of the Political Press

111

23

the nation'. That was not how it had appeared in 1695. Initially, those in authority remained unconvinced that it was a change for the better. In 1702, on the accession of Queen Anne, a proclamation was issued 'for Restraining the Spreading False News, and Printing and Publishing of Irreligious and Seditious Papers and Libels'. Two years later, the trial of John Tutchin for defamation of the government in The Observator resulted in Lord Chief Justice Holt's 'formulation of the Stuart doctrine' of seditious libel, a formulation which was 'succinctly restated' by Lord Chief Justice Raymond at the trial of Richard Franklin, printer of The Craftsman, in 1731.24 In lieu of press regulation, those in power sought other means to retain some degree of control. But the idea of regulation was never far from their minds, and on 19January 1712 Queen Anne sent a message to the Commons about the licentiousness of the press, recommending that 'a remedy equal to the mischief be found, as the 'evil seems to be grown too strong for the laws now in force'.25 It appeared likely that the old, unenforceable licensing regulations would simply be introduced once more, perhaps with some modifications. A Committee of the Whole House presented a report on 3 June 1712, calling for the registration of all printing presses, as well as advising that 'to every book, pamphlet, and paper, which shall be printed, there be set the name, and the place of abode of the author, printer, and publisher thereof. 26 In essence, these measures would have meant a return to the situation which obtained in 1695. Whether or not the clock could have been put back was never tested, because there was to be no new Licensing Act. Instead, a stamp duty on printed paper came into operation on 1 August 1712, to remain on the statute-books until 1855. There is still considerable difficulty about interpreting the purposes of the Stamp Act. It used to be viewed unequivocally as a repressive measure, an attempt by the government to exercize control over opposition publications. Recently I questioned this assumption. While conceding that the imposition of a tax was meant to act as some sort of inhibition on the unrestrained publication of political literature, I suggested that it was primarily a revenue-raising device.27 Geoffrey Holmes feels this 'may be going too far', although he agrees that 'it is 23

M. Harris, 'Print and Politics in the Age of Walpole', Britain in the Age ofWalpole, ed. T. Black (1984), p. 210. 24T. A. Green, Verdict According to Conscience: Perspectives on the English Criminal Trial Jury, 1200-1800 (Chicago, 1985), p. 321. See also L. S. Horsley, The Trial of John Tutchin, Author of the Observator', Yearbook of English Studies, III (1973), 124-140. 25 C.J., XVII, 28. 26 Ibid., p. 251. 27J. A. Do wnie, Robert Harley and the Press: Propaganda and Public Opinion in the Age of Swift and Defoe (Cambridge, 1979); A. Downie, The Growth of Government Tolerance of the Press to 1790', Development of the English Book Trade, 1700-1899, ed. R. Myers and M. Harris (Oxford, 1981), pp. 36-75.

118 Britain in the First Age of Party clear enough that the taxing of printed paper was much more a sop to the press's critics than a measure seriously designed to put Grub Street out of business'.28 What is just as clear is that the question of the taxation of newspapers and pamphlets merits closer attention from political historians than it has hitherto received. In particular, the ruling elite's attitude to the press, and its bearing on the question of political (in)stability, has been largely ignored. The fact that, as late as 1712, government saw the need for some sort of control over the press is hardly supportive of the suggestion that party conflict was, paradoxically, indicative of the 'fundamental political unison of England's landed elite'. The fact that backbenchers in the Tory-dominated House of Commons sought to reintroduce restrictions on a press that had been essentially free since 1695 is scarcely 'a manifestation of confidence'. Even after the introduction of a stamp duty - expressive of an entirely new attitude towards the press - severe misgivings were expressed. Commenting retrospectively on the Queen's message to the Commons, Swift explained that he had expected the government 'to have proposed some ways by which this evil of the licentiousness of the press might be removed, the law for taxing papers having produced a quite contrary effect, as was then foreseen by many persons and hath since been found true by experience'.30 Just over eight months after the imposition of the stamp tax, the Queen's Speech of 9 April 1713 once more drew attention to 'the Unparallel'd Licentiousness in publishing Seditious and Scandalous Libels'. Right at the end of the reign of Queen Anne, then, there was uncertainty about the wisdom of a free press. Oxford seems to have introduced the Stamp Act as a method of raising revenue. It is impossible to say whether or not he would have resisted the temptation to try to control the press more firmly had he remained in office after 1714. As it was, to judge by the many remarks made by contemporaries about the need for regulations, he was practically alone in holding his opinions on the liberty of the press. Yet, for several reasons, attitudes towards the press clearly altered after the Hanoverian Succession. Neither the Whigs who took office in 1714, nor Walpole when he assumed the position of first minister, were compelled to introduce restrictions. Even though he was confronted by a seemingly formidable literary opposition, as well as a talented array of opposition journalists, Walpole failed to reintroduce censorship of the press in any form.31 True, he prosecuted the printers of The Craftsman and other opposition publications, making use of the law of seditious libel formulated under the later Stuarts. But, more 28 29 30 31

T.L.S., 18 April 1980. Colley, In Defiance of Oligarchy, p. 12. Swift, Prose Writings, VII, 103-104. Although it was anticipated in 1737, after the theatrical Licensing Act.

The Development of the Political Press 119 significantly, he met the challenge of the opposition press campaign by funding an expensive counter-propaganda initiative of his own. It is difficult to assess how much this was influenced by the opposition's stance on the freedom of the press as a 'Bulwark of our Liberty', but it is interesting that it was only in the 1720s that such concepts began to be formulated. 32 It must be stressed that abstract principles such as these had not been voiced with any conviction either in 1695 or in 1712, therefore the sincerity with which they were put forward by men like Wharton (in The True Briton) and Bolingbroke (in The Craftsman) is open to question. Further, The Craftsman linked its defence of freedom with the need for accurate information about the state of the nation, arguing that this was essential if people were to be able to form valid opinions on public affairs. Suddenly it was no longer the government, but the opposition, that was complaining about 'fictitious intelligence and false representations'. Now they were demanding 'an unreserved, discretionary power for every man to publish his thoughts on any subject, and in any manner, which is not expressly forbidden by the Laws of the Land, without being obliged to apply fora licence or privilege (ox so doing'.33 Although there is little indication that they had such an effect, these cries were, of course, meant to disturb Walpole's composure. He relied largely on his personal influence with King and Parliament, and his team of subsidized journalists. In other words, unlike the period from 1695 to the Hanoverian Succession, the age of Walpole was sufficently stable to allow the government to accept a hostile free press. Is it, then, coincidental that it is the period from around 1695 to 1715 that historians have described as the era of the 'rage of party'? After 1715, politicians appear to have realised that the threat supposedly posed by the press had previously been exaggerated. Indeed, Walpole, despite his temporary discomfiture during the Excise crisis of 1733,34 seems to have recognized that criticism of the ministry in print could be effective as a safety-valve. He had also learned from the example provided by the closing years of Queen Anne's reign, when the propaganda agencies of both ministry and opposition had been organized with increasing awareness and sophistication. The idea that the press might be better employed presenting information that was in line with ministerial requirements superseded the old belief that information should be withheld, virtually at all costs. Thinking on this subject changed to such an extent that Walpole's organization of ministerial propaganda in the 1730s and early 1740s was underwritten to the tune of over £50,000, thus 32

See Downie, 'Growth of Government Tolerance', pp. 57-59. The Craftsman, no. 2. 34See P. Langford, The Excise Crisis: Society and Politics in the Age of Walpole (Oxford, 1975). 33

120 Britain in the First Age of Party marking an increase at least in quantity, if not in quality, over the efforts of earlier administrations. In this way, Walpole took the process that had originated in 1695 on the ending of censorship a stage further. Although it took several years for genuine awareness of the potential power of the press to develop, it had been brought to the attention of politicians as soon as the effects of the expiry of the licensing system began to be felt. George Ridpath, editor of The Flying Post — one of the papers launched when the old restrictions relating to the reporting of news no longer applied - was soon in trouble with the authorities. Presenting his 'rude thoughts' about ways in which, by providing 'the people' with 'antidotes' against the 'poison' administered by the authors of 'pestilent libels', it 'might become more useful to the government' than L'Estrange's Observator, Ridpath explained that 'those concerned in the Flying Post, being thoroughly well-affected to the government, will very willingly, at any time, insert such brief reflections . . . as any employed by the government shall think fit to send them'/'5 There is no indication that ministers acted on this advice during the reign of William III, but the founding of Defoe's Review in 1704 displayed a similar concern with 'preventing] the various uncertain accounts, and the partial reflections of the street scribblers' which, it was explained, 'have at least this effect, that people are possessed with wrong notions of things'.36 Note the perpetuation at this juncture of the idea of'antidote', which was a hangover from the earlier period, when L'Estrange's Observator had been founded as a organ of counter-propaganda during the Exclusion crisis. Those in authority are assumed to be similarly concerned about the erroneous assumptions that might be fostered by misleading reports. The press is still being regarded, by journalists themselves, as, potentially at least, a destabilizing agent. From feeling the need 'to state facts right' as a crude attempt at supplying counterpropaganda, ministers began to look at the possibility of using print more positively. When he returned to office in 1710 at the head of the administration, Robert Harley, not content with simply offering an 'official' version of affairs, recruited a team of propagandists headed by Daniel Defoe and Jonathan Swift, and attempted to persuade men to conform to the ministerial point of view through the carefully-repeated presentation of opinion. Significantly, he adapted the tactics of opposition politics to government itself, subsidizing not only ad hoc publications in pamphlet form, but regular journals of opinion, foremost among which was The Examiner. This, of course, was the system subsequently adopted and extended by Walpole. While the regular parading of ministerial views in newspapers and 35 36

B.L., Loan 29/303, unfoliated. Review, I, 1.

The Development of the Political Press 121 periodicals was one aspect of government policy under Harley, he also made use of that other ploy of opposition, the carefully-timed propaganda release. Swift's The Conduct of the Allies is the prime example of this sort of publication, painstakingly concocted between the writer and the leading lights of the administration prior to its appearance on 27 November 1711, and calculated to have the maximum effect on debates about the question of peace on the opening of Parliament on 7 December.3 Previously, this had been an opposition tactic, and numerous examples can be cited from the Argument against a Standing Army of 1697 through Davenant's Discourse of Grants and Resumptions (1699), Somers' The Electors' Right Asserted (1701), and Defoe's The Shortest Way with the Dissenters (1702) to An Account of a Dream at Harwich, concocted by the Harleyite opposition itself in 1708. It continued to be a favourite opposition ploy, as evinced by the immense publicity campaign surrounding the appearance of Steele's tedious Crisis of 1714. But the Oxford ministry seems to have been the first to recognise the value to the government of prefacing the meeting of Parliament with an important statement designed to influence the thinking not only of the nation at large, but of sympathetic M.P.s themselves. And, as far as the House of Commons was concerned, the scheme paid dividends, with the Commons' Resolutions being 'almost quotations' from Swift's pamphlet.38 It should be noted, however, that, as late in 1714, the organization of government propaganda was very rudimentary. The only money which could legitimately be used to sponsor publication was the secret service fund. Harley paid a number of writers from this source: Defoe seems to have received £100 every quarter.39 But it was a limited resource, and Harley's probity was legendary. As he was not prepared to re-direct other public monies to finance government propaganda, his system, although the prototype for Walpole's, was necessarily smaller. Michael Harris rightly points out that 'Walpole's concern with the press, perhaps even more than Harley's, was characterised by his deployment of the machinery of government in its support'.40 Unlike Harley, Walpole was prepared to use (or abuse) his position at the Treasury to finance ministerial propaganda on the grand scale, and to employ the administration to organise its dissemination. The shadowy figure of Nicholas Paxton, the Treasury Solicitor, looms large behind such activities. He seems to have supervised several aspects of the government's propaganda campaigns, including the payment and 37 SeeJ. A. Downie, 'The Conduct of the Allies: The Question of Influence', The Art of Jonathan Swift, ed. C. T. Probyn (1978), pp. 118-120. 38 Swift, Prose Writings, XVI, 482. 39 SeeJ. A. Downie, 'Secret Service Payments to Daniel Defoe, 1710-1714', Review of English Studies, XXX (1979), 437-441. ?0 Harris, 'Print and Polities', p. 198.

122 Britain in the First Age of Party direction of the writers as well as distribution of the finished products, largely through the Post Office.41 William Arnall, perhaps thejournalist closest to Walpole himself, was also reputed to have been in receipt of £400 a year for his services - the same figure Defoe apparently earned at the end of Queen Anne's reign.42 But if the going rate for thejob was the same, the number of writers used by Walpole was much higher, even if they were, in the main, of inferior talent. Nor is there any indication during the Oxford ministry of anything similar to Walpole's systematic use of administrative resources. Swift may have cooperated with his friend, the printer John Barber, but he was no Nicholas Paxton. Defoe usually made his own publishing arrangements. Compared to the system in operation during the 1730s, it was all rather hand-to-mouth. Printed propaganda was, of course, subsidized by politicians other than those in office. Despite the disadvantages opposition politicians laboured under, opposition propaganda also developed in the first half of the eighteenth century. There had been party newspapers and periodicals from 1695 onwards, The Post Boy on the Tory side, for instance, and The Flying Post on the Whig. But, in the first decade of the eighteenth century, only a handful of pamphlets each year could genuinely be regarded as quasi-official party publications. This changed during the four years of the Oxford ministry, when the Whigs, convinced that they could 'scribble these men down', began to commit more resources to the production of party propaganda. By 1713 they were probably matching, if not surpassing, the amount of money made available by the government for propaganda purposes. Defoe noted that 'The world is Over-run with their Pamphlets, which they disperse privately Two or three Editions at a Time'. 3 These sorts of arrangements were extended by Walpole when he came to be Prime Minister, but with the added advantage of government backing. It was left to the opposition to try to respond as best it could, and certainly the circle surrounding The Craftsman did its utmost to secure the production and widespread dissemination of opposition propaganda, imitating the government organisation to the best of its ability. It is, I think, a tribute to the potency of the challenge of opposition propaganda that Walpole felt obliged to spend so much on counter-propaganda during the early 1730s in particular, before he economized after 1735 by combining the various ministerial journals in The Daily Gazetteer. It has been suggested that, by 1742, the character of political debate had also changed from the early years of the century. 'The campaigns of the Queen Anne period had been vigorous but fragmented', writes 41 42

Ibid. But seej. A. Downie, 'Walpole, "The Poet's Foe"', Britain in the Age of Walpole, p.

179. 43

The Letters of Daniel Defoe, ed. G. H. Healey (Oxford, 1955), p. 424.

The Development of the Political Press 123 Michael Harris. 'During Walpole's term in office the consistent and long-drawn-out confrontation between politicians in and out of power allowed for the development of a more sophisticated debate1.44 There is truth in this observation. In the twenty years from Walpole's assumption of the premiership to his fall in 1742, only the Excise crisis seems to have generated the temperature of the debates of Anne's reign. But before we can reach any firm conclusions, we must turn to the writings themselves. Because this is a critical issue, rhetorical analysis offers answers unavailable by other means. Historians are prone to examine simply what is said in print rather than the way in which it is said. This has a bearing on the question of political (in) stability. As our picture of earlyeighteenth-century Britain is inevitably influenced by contemporary publications, certain questions should be asked before we use such evidence. I have already drawn attention to Linda Colley's warning that the 'issues which divided Whig and Tory in Anne's reign . . . were not as clear-cut, or felt to the same degree by all party sympathisers, as contemporary propaganda might suggest'. It is, of course, sound common sense not to take contemporary propaganda at face-value. But if it is unwise to take it at face-value, how, then, should it be taken? If it is to be used as evidence at all, how should it be interpreted? We should begin by asking what it was that writers were hoping to achieve by their rhetoric. What, in other words, was their polemical strategy at a given moment? This would offer a synchronic perspective on the political literature of the period. But it can be supplemented by a diachronic approach simply by describing how the strategies of political debate evolved between 1688 and 1742, and considering the reasons why each significant development occurred.45 Of especial importance to the present investigation is the manner in which contemporary propaganda described the everyday working of politics, and its characterization of social and political divisions. Clearly, it was sometimes in the propagandist's interests to accentuate the political instability that virulent party divisions occasioned, while at other times his turn might be better served by playing down the issues which were supposed to separate Whig and Tory. A pamphlet of 1693, A Dialogue betwixt Whig and Tory, alias Williamite and Jacobite, is a good example of the former strategy. Here the mere title reduces the dichotomy to one of support either for William III or for the exiled James II. To be a Whig is, by implication, to adhere to the Revolution Principle, to prefer stability, to accept the existing political institutions. To be a 44

Harris, 'Print and Polities', p. 204. On this point, see T. N. Corns, W. A. Speck and J. A. Downic, 'Archetypal Mystification: Polemic and Reality in English Political Literature, 1640-1750', Eighteenth-Century Life, VII (1982), 1-27. 45

124 Britain in the First Age of Party Tory, on the other hand, is to wish for the restoration ofjames II, a move which would be, by definition, destabilizing, as it would necessitate further constitutional changes. Walpole was to make good use of this particular strategy, identifying all Tories with Jacobites, and insinuating that they were not prepared to accept the nation's political institutions, and those that controlled them. From the vantage-point of 1747, Lyttelton remarked how 'the blessed Whigs of [the early eighteenth century] spared no pains to possess the court of Hanover with an assured persuasion that there were but two parties in the nation, Hanoverians and Jacobites; and that Whig and Tory were only two other names for those two parties'.46 But while it was in Walpole's interests to suggest that political stability was continually under threat during his governance because of the division into Whig and Tory, Hanoverian and Jacobite, other politicians sought to play down such divisions. In the later 1720s and 1730s, the opposition sought to construct a platform upon which Tories and dissident Whigs might be united. This strategy was not new. It is interesting that propagandists questioned the validity of party labels in the 1690s, too, and the arguments employed were surprisingly similar. While committed party men like the author of the Dialogue (probably Ben Overton)47 accentuated divisions between Whig and Tory, writers such as John Toland dismissed them, arguing that 'these Names are now of a very doubtful Signification':48 We hear of Court and Country, of apostate and adhering Whigs; nor are the Tories more united among themselves . . . such Distinctions as these of Whig and Tory, cannot miss of being often made with a great deal of Partiality, and Injustice; for, according to your predominant Passion, he's a Whig whom you love, and he that you hate's a Tory; and so on the contrary, as you happen to be engag'd in either Party.

This is the benefit of the diachronic approach, and it pays dividends when applied to the problem of political (in)stability. If, as Geoffrey Holmes contends, the language used by contemporaries has any bearing on the character of early-eighteenth-century politics, then the first (and presumably most significant observation) to be made is that, although there is considerable similarity between the terminology and arguments to be found in the political literature of the 1690s and of the age of Walpole, very different considerations characterize the years from, say, 1701 to around 1715. There are a number of reasons why 1701 marked a change in party 46

A Letter to the Tories (1747), p. 7. J. A. Downie, 'Ben Overton: An Alternative Author of A Dialogue betwixt Whig and Tory', Papers of the Bibliographical Society of America, LXX (1976), 263-271. 48A Collection of State Tracts, Published on Occasion of the Late Revolution in 1688 and during the Reign of William III (3 vols., 1705-7), II, 609. 47

The Development of the Political Press 125 alignments. The deaths of the Duke of Gloucester and Charles II of Spain in 1700 were followed by the death in September 1701 of James II himself, and the recognition of his son as James III by Louis XIV. The result was that the security of the Protestant Succession was thrust once more into the forefront of affairs. The re-emergence of the division between Whig and Tory in the aftermath of the Act of Settlement of March 1701 was made plain during the conflict between the two Houses of Parliament over the impeachments of Somers, Halifax, Russell and Portland, while the contrast between the two contests over the Speakership, in February and in December 1701, indicates the fluctuating political situation, with Harley's majority cut from 124 to a mere four votes. Accompanying this change was a virulent paper war which, for the first time since the early 1690s, found propagandists of most persuasions representing the realities of everyday politics in party terms. James Vernon observed, on 1 September 1701, that 'the parties are every day writing and printing against one another with great bitterness', whereas three years earlier, during the General Election of 1698, he had remarked on the 'strange spirit of distinguishing between the court and country party', rather than between Whig and Tory, which 'visibly discovers itself in several elections'.49 It is difficult to decide to what extent the change in party alignments was the effect of the political debates of 1701, rather than the cause. But the accession of Queen Anne in March 1702 confirmed the renewed vitality of the conflict between Whig and Tory, as High Churchmen anticipated the endorsement of the establishment in Church and State. The range of issues separating the parties regained relevance, and the party language of the day was reflected in the political literature. This is well-illustrated by looking at the fortunes of the ministerial paper, Defoe's Review, which attempted to assume a stance of moderation, mediating between the extremes of Whig and Tory. The structure of politics made no allowances for such a journal. When Defoe followed his instructions during the General Election of 1705 by promoting nonparty sentiments, he was attacked on all sides for his pains, by Whig and Tory alike. Similarly in 1710 the entire output of Harleyite propaganda, which advocated 'a coalition of the honestest men of both sides', ° was swamped by the mass of party publications insisting on the dichotomy between Whig and Tory. Faults on Both Sides itself was forced to acknowledge the realities of contemporary politics in its title, which implied that both Whig and Tory were at fault. For all his efforts, Harley was no nearer 'abolishing these fatal Distinctions of Whig and Tory'51 49

Letters Illustrative of the Reign of William III from 1696to 1708 Addressed to the Duke of Shrewsbury by James Vernon, ed. G. P. R.James (3 vols., 1841), III, 155-156; II, 143. 50 Collection of Scam and Valuable Tracts, XII, 696. 51 [John Toland], The Art of Governing by Partyes (1701), pp. 109-110.

126

Britain in the First Age of Party

than he had been in 1701. Throughout the reign of Queen Anne, then, the language of politics reflected the conflict between Whig and Tory, and both sides were content to present issues in party terms. Only after 1715 did this consensus begin to break down. When it seemed no longer to be in its interests in either practical or rhetorical terms, one side turned away from the use of party terminology. While Whigs in office continued to push the party line, equating Toryism with Jacobitism, opposition Whigs and Tories once more insisted that such political labels were by now anachronistic, and that the realities of political debate were no longer confined to the issues which had divided the parties during the reign of Queen Anne. A diachronic perspective on the political press from 1688 to 1742 reveals that, after the Revolution, the politics of party gave way to a looser Court/Country dichotomy from the early 1690s onwards which, in turn, was interrupted by the renewal of party conflict between 1701 and 1715, before the older (and more normal) division between Court and Country began to dominate politics once more in the age of Walpole. The political nation learned to live with and to exploit the medium of print, although it was only after Anne's reign that a consensus on the relationship between a free press and the constitutional rights of the individual was reached. Therefore in one respect, at least, the state of political stability described by Plumb was attained, with society accepting this particular institution. Similarly, the language used by contemporaries to describe their political world endorses the supposition, derived from the analysis of political events, that political stability was only really achieved after 1715. Although historians have come to question the validity of Professor Plumb's account of the growth of political stability in England in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, the arguments and evidence used in the present essay serve to bear it out. Consideration of the political press indicates that, if printed evidence is to be accorded any value at all, the quarter of a century following the accession of William and Mary was a period of underlying instability, and that stability was only gradually obtained under the Hanoverians. To argue otherwise is to argue in the face of such evidence. And if printed evidence is to be discounted, what are we left with? We may as well return to Walcott's analysis of the structure of English politics in the early eighteenth century, because he also refused to acknowledge the import of the evidence he had so painstakingly assembled. To be wary of reading political literature without making allowances for its propaganda content is one thing: to discount such evidence out of hand is quite another.

The Development of the Political Press

127

Bibliographical Note There is no comprehensive study of the entire period. D. H. Stevens, Party Politics and English Journalism, 1702-1742 (Mcnasha, Wisconsin, 1916), covers the forty years to the fall of Walpole but is largely out of date. So is W. T. Laprade, Public Opinion and Politics in Eighteenth-Century England to the Fall of Walpole (New York, 1936). (T. W. Perry, Public Opinion, Propaganda and Politics in Eighteenth-Century England [Cambridge, Mass., 1962], is misleadingly titled, as it is a study of the Jew bill of 1753.) Lois G. Schwoerer, 'Propaganda in the Revolution of 1688-89', American Historical Review, LXXXII (1977), 843-874; M. Goldie, 'The Revolution of 1689 and the Structure of Political Argument. An Essay and an Annotated Bibliography of Pamphlets on the Allegiance Controversy', Bulletin of Research in the Humanities, LXXXIII (1980), 473-564; and R. B. Walker, 'The Newspaper Press in the Reign of William III', Historical Journal, XVII (1974), 691-709, deal with aspects of the press in the late seventeenth century; while J. A. Downie, Robert Harley and the Press: Propaganda and Public Opinion in the Age of Swift and Defoe (Cambridge, 1979), offers coverage of the period 1689-1714; andj. O. Richards, Party Propaganda Under Queen Anne: The General Elections of 1702-1713 (Athens, Georgia, 1972), describes press activities during the election campaigns of Anne's reign. Two recent essays in Britain in the Age of Walpole, ed. J. Black (1984), supply brief accounts of the political literature: M. Harris, 'Print and Politics in the Age of Walpole', pp. 189-210; and J. A. Downie, 'Walpole, "the Poet's Foe'", pp. 171-188. L. Hanson, Government and the Press, 1695-1763 (1936), is still valuable as the most comprehensive treatment of the control of the political press. It can be supplemented by J. A. Downie, 'The Growth of Government Tolerance of the Press to 1790', Development of the English Book Trade, 1700-1899, ed. R. Myers and M. Harris (Oxford, 1981), pp. 36-65, which draws attention to recent research in the field. In addition, the relevant chapters of T. A. Green, Verdict According to Conscience: Perspectives on the English Criminal Trial Jury, 1200-1800 (Chicago, 1985), add significantly to our knowledge of the law of seditious libel.

This page intentionally left blank

7

Popular Culture and Popular Politics: Some Regional Case Studies Michael Mullett It will be the argument of this essay that popular political attitudes and behaviour in late seventeenth and early eighteenth-century England were rooted in popular culture. As used by such historians as Peter Burke, the term 'popular culture' means the culture of the mass of the people, the 'little culture' as distinct from the 'great culture' of elites.1 Popular culture is not necessarily non-literate, but it is vernacular, and it is the culture of people who are generally without access to higher education. Popular culture is markedly oral and is expressed through stories, folksongs, proverbs, but also through action and collective rituals. It will be argued in this article that popular culture also creates and comprises values and social, religious and political attitudes. With some definition of popular culture, let us now attempt a definition of the populace to whom the adjective refers. In negative terms, the populace for the purpose of this article was made up of all those not comprising the normal 'political nation' - the peerage, gentry and urban magistrates - who directly exercised the higher degrees of political power, under the Crown, centrally and locally. The leisure to deploy political power is the criterion for membership of an elite of which the gentry formed the core. Just as we define popular culture partly in terms of what elite culture is not, so we define 'populace' partly in the terms of what is not elite. Our populace, then, consists of all those who needed to work, especially with their hands, for a living, all those who were not nobility, gentry, urban professionals and wealthier merchants; it is made up of all those without access to higher education, all those who farmed their own land, farmed rented land, worked on other men's land, all small-scale local manufacturing craftsmen, shopkeepers, rural and urban artisans, manual and casual labourers, those near the poverty line, plus the 'permanently poor', vagrants and criminals. This is a vast category of humanity, the overwhelming majority of the people of England; it ranges from the literate, enfranchised, prosperous and respectable yeoman farmer, close to the gentry, down to the most precarious cottager, 'dweller on the waste' and pauper. To simplify matters, and to see if we can find common traits, we will restrict ourselves chiefly to certain urban elements, in a sample of towns; for at least part of the time, we will concentrate on those who 1

P. Burke, Popular Culture in Early Modern Europe (1978).

130 Britain in the First Age of Party enjoyed (or perhaps were being deprived of) some political rights, in the form of the vote, in parliamentary and municipal elections. We need to note, though, that the inclusion of commoners in the English political process, markedly in the towns with extensive freeman franchises, but also in counties where as many as 6, 7 or even 9,000 might vote, had the further effect of contributing to the creation of a nation of political spectators. As Geoffrey Holmes has shown,3 there was a keen and widespread national interest in politics, beyond those who were in any way included in the formal political process; as might be expected, this interest was particularly intense in times of crisis. At such times, Exclusion in the late 1670s and early 1680s, Sacheverell in 1710, Excise in 1733, issues were presented in simplified and often graphic form to facilitate mass comprehension. By looking at two groups of local case studies, it ought to be possible to illustrate at least some themes of popular political culture. The feature that stands out most clearly to what we might term popular traditionalism: a mixture of acceptance of traditional hierarchy, deference, xenophobia, intense localism along with neighbourly solidarity, a sense of natural justice, royalism, and the economic conservatism of maintaining restrictive practices and protective prices. We shall also have an opportunity, to examine the activities of women as popular protesters. In addition, I should like to suggest a possible medium by which political ideas, classifications, labels and prejudice may be fed into popular culture. I should also like to consider a widespread form of popular political satire, the mock corporation. Finally, I want to try to find out what happened to an alternative popular tradition, one of popular insurgency and radicalism in England. In our local case studies, we begin with Norwich, which has been chosen to illustrate some of the themes mentioned above, in particular, explicit popular conservatism, finding expression after 1680 in the Toryism of a majority of the freemen, if not of the inhabitants as a whole. This political orientation was certainly clear by the mid-1680s in this large, open constituency whose freemen electorate of anything between 1,500 and 2,800 gave the Whigs only 'inconsiderable' support. It will be argued that this party-political affiliation was partly the outcome of deference, fostered by a widespread sense of the citizens' common interest, nourished by philanthropy and intensified by xenophobia. As the second city in the kingdom, with its well-developed civic ritual, its 36 churches and famous citizens (including Sir Edward Coke and Sir Thomas Browne), Norwich was one of England's few cities outside the 2 The House of Commons, 1660-1690, ed. B. D. Henning (3vols., 1983) [hereafter cited as HP 1660-90]'I, 107-8. 3 G. Holmes, The Electorate and the National Will in the First Age of Party (Lancaster, 1975), esp. p. 7 ff; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, p. 7 ff. 4 HP 1660-90, I, 330, 331.

Popular Culture and Popular Politics 131 capital that stood any comparison with major continental cities in terms of the presence of a civic identity and culture. Despite incidents of disorder, the city was ruled by consensus. The rights of the freemen, who amounted to about a third of the male adult population, were frequently re-stated; oligarchy was actually on the decline, the aldermen, who were rich and expected to be charitable, were kept in close touch with their wards.5 The consensus was maintained in particular by philanthropy and by the assent given by the local elite to the popular assumption that employment must be protected through the intervention of government, both local and central. Popular Royalism in Norwich is easy to measure. It was strongly evident at the Restoration which was greeted with 'such Joy that there were continued Bonfires, Feastings and such like'.6 Subsequently the freemen took the lead in restoring previously ejected Royalist aldermen, voted for Royalist candidates in the 1661 general election, allied with Lord Yarmouth in 1678 to eliminate 'notorious ill affected men to the Government', helped swing a county election in favour of the Court in 1679, submitted a famous loyal address in 1681 (and a less famous but equally loyal apprentices' address), greeted the Duke of York with popular acclaim on his visit (by invitation) in 1682, and celebrated his accession in 1685 and his 1686 birthday with 'loud Acclamations of Multitudes of people'.7 It is true that this loyalist popular preference should not be overstated. It was moderated by localism. Some wards were less Royalist-inclined than others, and Whig propaganda claimed that the 1681 freemen's address was attested only by a tiny minority.8 At the end of the day, though, the evidence we have allows us to agree with various observers who reported the Norwich freemen 'in general . . . loyal to his Majesty and well affected to the present government', and who referred to 'this loial city' and its people's 'loyalty to their prince'.9 How may we account for this Royalism developing into Toryism, on the part of the Norwich freemen, at least in the seventeenth century? In particular, how do we account for the political phenomenon in terms of 5 J. T. Evans, Seventeenth-Century Norwich. Religion and Government, 1620-1690 (Oxford, 1979), passim', F. Blomefield, An Essay towards a Topographical History of the County of Norfolk (5 vols., 1739-75), II, 318-19. 6 Ibid., p. 283. 7 Evans, Norwich, pp. 229-30, 265; C.S.P. Dam., 1678-9, p. 45; N. Luttrell, A Brief Historical Relation of State Affairs (6 vols., Oxford, 1857), I, p. 342, 386; C.J., IX, 599-600; R. W. Ketton-Cremer, Felbrigg. The Story of a House (1962), p. 66; Blomefield, Norfolk, II, 293; H.M.C., 10th Rep., Appendix, Pt. IV, 176; 'Norfolk Lieutenancy Journal, 16761701', ed. B. Cozens-Hardy, Norfolk Record Soc., XXX (1961), 62. 8 Evans, Norwich, p. 265; Strange and Wonderful News from Norwich: The Like Not In All England Besides. In a Letter from Norwich, to a Friend in London (1681). 9 Evans, Norwich, p. 241; The Corie Letters, 1664-1687', ed. R. Hill, Norfolk Record Soc., XXVII (1956), 40; Sir Edward Coke, The Fourth Part of the Institutes of the Laws of England. Concerning the Jurisdiction of Courts (1797), p. 256.

132 Britain in the First Age of Party our theme of popular culture? We can, as was suggested, explain it in terms of charity, mutuality, deference, protectionism, religion and xenophobia. There is evidence of a widely shared feeling, like that developed in the major cities of late medieval Europe, that Norwich was a community and a commonwealth, its humblest citizens linked with its civic leaders (the most public-spirited of whom tended to be Royalists and Tories) in a shared commitment to the maintenance of the city's prosperity and in hostility to outsiders, rivals and foreigners, many of whom became identified in the popular mind with Nonconformity and Whiggery. The Norwich tradition of philanthropy was one that Coke referred to in his remarks about the 'exercise of works of charity'. 10 Indeed the city fathers traditionally combined authoritarianism with an encompassing paternalism, a combination that reminds us of Professor Dickens's vignette of the Nuremberg city council on the eve of the Reformation. 11 Without sentiment, and with an eye to preventing disorder, rich Norwich citizens and the Norwich city authorities helped the poor, as they did, for instance, during the outbreak of the plague in 1666, when the city laid out £200 a week on poor relief.12 As well as supporting public charity as a corporation (organized by the Tory recorder, Thomas Corie) individual members of the Norwich elite were also notable philanthropists. The aldermen and neighbouring gentry most closely identified with the Royalist and later the Tory cause were also the most active as individuals in poor relief and acts of charity.13 Opinion in Norwich clearly expected civic leaders as rich men (typically with fortunes made in textiles) to be charitable, and it was held against a politically suspect alderman, demoted by a petition of the freemen of his ward in 1682, that he had not provided for the poor.14 Individual charity and corporation paternalism knit much of the Norwich population to the corporation, particularly to those members most readily identified as Royalists and subsequently as Tories. Patriarchalism, here defined as a mixture of authority and benevolence, was likely to create almost a psychology, and certainly a political culture, of conformity rather than dissent, and this it seems to have done in Norwich. And apart from outright charity, the city fathers gave the lead in constantly demanding aid from Parliament and from influential 10 Coke, Institutes, p. 256; W. K. Jordan, Philanthropy in England (1964), pp. 29, 45, 87, 128, 251, 266, 276. 11 Sachse, in Evans, Norwich, p. 59, n. 3; A. G. Dickens, The German Nation and Martin Luther (1974), pp. 137-8. 12 Blomefield, Norfolk, II, 289. 13 B. Cozens-Hardy and E. A. Kent, The Mayors of Norwich, 1403 to 1835, being Biographical Notices of the Mayors of the Old Corporation (Norwich, 1938), p. 190; Blomefield, Norfolk, II, 641-2. 14 Norwich and Norfolk R.O., 'Assembly Minute Book, 1665-1682', p. 109.

Popular Culture and Popular Politics 133 friends such as the Howards to shelter and promote the city's manufacturing and trade. Above all, the corporation fully supported the freemen's monopoly in commerce and industry in Norwich, actually getting the backing of the Privy Council for its orders.15 And it was the loyalist core of the corporation who were most active in maintaining this civic mercantilism. The Tory recorder Thomas Corie eloquently expressed the city leaders' protective attitude to textile manufacture, especially the city's speciality of worsted weaving, and the need to maintain full employment in it.16 Safe, loyalist and Tory politics, across the social scale, were doubtless also fostered by the particular need that Norwich men felt to gain the 'Constant Favour and Protection' of the King (in this case Charles II) in support of their restrictive economic policies.17 Thus the economic self-interest of a still organic urban community intensified, if it did not create, a popular commitment to Tory politics. The freedom - a curious word for such a restrictive practice - is an important clue to the Norwich situation. A medieval leftover, it is one of those long survivals in popular ideology. In Norwich, both its economic relevance and its political vitality were fully supported by the Tory phalanx whose unofficial leader until his death in 1682 was Lord Yarmouth. The Norwich freemen had no reason, as they had in other towns to take the opposite political line from a corporation that sought to undermine the freemen's economic and political rights. Authoritarian, conservative and Tory politics may have been given an extra edge amongst the Norwich commonalty by a kind of nativism, not by any means unique to the East Anglian city, but actually stemming from its long-established tradition of giving refuge to Protestants from the Netherlands and France. The need to shore up the livelihoods of Norwich freemen, and workmen in general, in the face of competition from outsiders and, more to the point foreigners, may have been the final decisive factor in creating Norwich's classic popular political allegiance, as it appeared in the 1680s, though some, but by no means all, of this Tory support by Norwich freemen and craftsmen had evaporated by 1715.18 In May 1682, Onias Phillipps provided work in Norwich for French Protestants from Ipswich, and the Norwich workers, terrified of wage cutting, rioted and drove the French off the streets.19 It was surely no coincidence that large numbers of Dissenters, linked closely in Norwich with the foreign community, were prosecuted at about this time, or that the son of a French Huguenot immigrant was disenfranchised in 1681, the father having been enfranchised under the 15 16 17 18 19

Ibid., pp. 4, 7. 'Coric Letters', pp. 37-8. Norfolk R.O., 'Assembly Minute Book', pp. 56, 75. W. A. Speck, Tory and Whig: The Struggle in the Constituencies (1970), Appendix B.

Blomeficld, Norfolk, II, 283.

134

Britain in the First Age of Party

Commonwealth and the son under a mayor well known for his sympathy with Dissenters.20 The political leanings of the majority of the Norwich populace whose views we can reconstruct were derived partly from economic issues, the traditional protectionism of popular culture, compounded by religious bigotry intensified by xenophobia. Tory Anglicanism confronted Whiggery which in Norwich was associated not only with Dissent, but Dissent and foreign origins, and conceivably with the threat to local livelihoods as well as the threat to Norwich's carefully cushioned manufacturing industry from outsiders of all kinds, even from Yarmouth. The alignment offerees - Anglicanism, Toryism, protectionism, and xenophobia versus Nonconformity, Whiggery and cosmopolitanism — is neatly illustrated in a piece of popular burlesque in 1678 when a loyalist zealot offered to a 'Dutch and Scottish' Presbyterian alderman a rotten Dutch cheese;21 this was a popular carnivalesque coded symbol whose meaning would have been immediately appreciated in Norwich, which was simultaneously cosmopolitan and nativist. Whiggery locally was severely damaged by this link with aliens. Perhaps Evans is right to claim that Norwich politics were 'really religious and ideological in character' and 'there are no hints of underlying social and economic grievances'. Indeed, any such 'class' grievance between the dominant elite and much of the working population was offset by xenophobia, largely derived from economic fears but also a major, and if anything, increasingly strident ingredient in English popular culture. Some themes of the Sacheverell Riots, for example the Tory anti-foreign feeling that objected to giving asylum to Protestant refugees from the Palatinate, are already prefigured in the Norwich of the 1680s.23 The English were thought, by foreigners, to be quite exceptionally xenophobic. As early as the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries the country witnessed recurrent official and popular demonstrations against, and harrassment of, all sorts of foreigners.24 As wise a man as Dr. Johnson (a Tory, though) thought all foreigners simply fools.25 A key distinction in the popular culture of xenophobia, between an Englishman and a foreigner, was that the former was known to eat well and drink well. Oddly enough, even the Englishman's beer proclaimed his political independence and honesty, in contrast to the highly suspect 20

Ibid., pp. 294-5, 298; Luttrell, Brief Relation, I, 125; H.M.C., Kenyan MSS.,

pp. 124-5; Norfolk R.O., 'Assembly Minute Book', p. 100. 21 Evans, Norwich, p. 258. 22

23

Ibid., p. 230.

G. Holmes, 'The Sacheverell Riots: The Crowd and the Church in Early Eighteenth Century London', Past and Present, No. 72 (1976), pp. 61-2, 67-8; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 223-4, 229-30. 24 E.g. Sylvia Thrupp, 'A Survey of the Alien Population of England in 1440', Society and History. Essays by Sylvia Thrupp, cd. R. Grew and N. H. Steneck (Ann Arbor, Mich., 1977), pp. 136-7. 25 Boswell's Life of Johnson, introd. C. B. Tinker (1961), p. 1075.

Popular Culture and Popular Politics 135 and indeed poisonous Dutch product that was confiscated in medieval London. In Oxford, where town-gown conflict was for much of the time the content of politics, and popular anti-intellectual and anticosmopolitan attitudes rife, a newly elected mayor could incite crowd antipathy to foreigners (and to scholars) with an invitation to his electors in 1672: 'he could not speak French nor Spanish, but if they could walk to the Bear they should find that he could speak English, (meaning give them English ale and beer)'. 26 A major part of the Englishman's contemptuous and patronising attitude to continental Europeans was the contrast between the vast amounts the Englishman spent on his diet, of beef and beer, with meagre sums laid out by priest-ridden Frenchmen ('roots and herbs') and lumpish Dutchmen ('butter barrels'). The mere production of a gone-off cheese in an electoral encounter in Norwich, if we can analyse the language, can tell us a great deal about popular attitudes, and their vivid, satirical, theatrical form of expression: suddenly the mere cheese became a soundless but eloquent way of linking Whiggery and Presbyterianism with the hated Dutch, their republicanism, Calvinism and anarchic toleration. Thus a demotic xenophobia, which in Norwich may have been more intense than elsewhere because of the various threats of foreign competition, consolidated anti-Whig and anti-Dissenter attitudes in a large part of the populace. Our second case for examining some symptoms of popular political culture is Wigan in the 1680s. In the first place we shall take an incident, a riot, that will highlight the following themes: riot itself as popular protest; insularity, territoriality and neighbourliness; the popular conception of justice; and the role of women in acts of collective protest. In 1681, after many years of effective exemption from the penal laws against Catholics, Wigan came under scrutiny from the Lancashire clerk of the peace Roger Kenyon, who sent in bailiffs to collect overdue recusancy fines and, if necessary, distrain goods if fines could not be paid. The bailiffs began their work by trying to distrain the bed of sickness on which a Catholic widow lay, apparently her only distrainable possession. Led by the townswomen, a crowd attacked the bailiffs with great violence. The affair came to the notice of the Privy Council, amidst fears of a militant popish revival in Lancashire. Despite these anxieties, the affair was not prosecuted with vigour, and petered out in the courts.27 The event was, obviously, a riot- a 'protest of the inarticulate'. Now Norwich had its riots, but the East Anglican capital, for all its size, saw nothing as alarming in this period as these sudden and sanguinary Wigan stirs, when the King's officers were 'many ways abused, stoned, 26

The Life and Times of Anthony Wood, Antiquary at Oxford, 1632-1695, ed. A. Clark (5 vols., Oxford, 1891-5), II, 270. 27 H.M.C., Le Fleming MSS., pp. 181-2.

136 Britain in the First Age of Party wounded, so that of their lives it was despaired'.28 The political difference between the two places is that in Norwich the freemen - a large slice of the inhabitants - had a voice: they voted, petitioned, and addressed, and were sometimes manipulated, whereas in Wigan even the freemen (many of whom were desperately poor) were being systematically deprived of any voice beyond the riot. They rioted, indeed, against their progressive deprivation of political rights, but their futile 'Tumult rowt and unlawful assembly against the Publique peace' in 1661 over the narrowing of the franchise, did nothing to stop Wigan's inexorable evolution into a closed borough with a parliamentary franchise consisting of the mayor, corporation and a handful of carefully selected 'sworn burgesses'.29 The Wigan riot of 1681 is part of the pattern of recurrent rioting in a town where rioting, along with a few seditious mutterings, was the only possible form of plebeian political activity. Another theme of popular culture, as illustrated by these events in Wigan, is the cluster of assumptions surrounding territoriality, insularity and neighbourliness. By insularity in this context, one does not mean the nationalist xenophobia found in Norwich, and London. The north west saw fewer actual foreigners, though there is a plausible-sounding legend at Keswick-on-Derwentwater that when German miners arrived there in the sixteenth century, they were accommodated on an island in the lake. However, away from the more cosmopolitan parts of the country another sense of foreignness arose. Despite or because of all the mobility that went on in pre-industrial England, outsiders in communities, nonfreemen say, could be considered, and were called 'foreigners', as they were for example in Bedford.30 Suspicion of strangers per se was related to suspicion of bringers-in of novelty, especially religious novelty. In the north's Pilgrimage of Grace in 1536-7, it was clearly held against the new religious ideas that they had foreign labels.3 The first Quaker missionaries to the south west in the 1650s were resented as outlandish northerners. In the north itself, in the remote Furness peninsula, and elsewhere on his travels, the Quaker founder, George Fox, was vigorously repulsed as an outsider, an experience later to be shared by Methodist missionaries in the eighteenth century.32 Rural communities 28

H.M.C., Kenyan MSS., p. 132; Lancashire R.O., DDKe/7/14 (2). D. Hirst, The Representative of the People? Voters and Voting in England under the Early Stuarts (Cambridge, 1975), p. 95; Wigan R.O., 'Court Leet Rolls', 16 (1660-1), 6, 8, 19, 24; HP 1660-90, pp. 293-4. 30 'Bedford Corporation Minute Book', ed. Sir Lewis Dyve, Bedfordshire Historical Record Soc., XXVI (1949), introd., p. xxv. 31 A. Fletcher, Tudor Rebellions (1968), p. 128. 32 The Journal of George Fox, ed. J. L. Nickalls (Cambridge, 1952), pp. 130-1; B. Reay, The Quakers and the English Revolution (1985), p. 68; J. D. Walsh, 'Methodism and the Mob in the 18th Century', Popular Belief and Practice (Studies in Church History, VIII, 1972), ed. J. G. Gumming and D. Baker, pp. 213-30. 29

Popular Culture and Popular Politics 137 33 like the Forest of Dean, hostile to outside interference, were not the only communities that could be so described, for towns were pyschologically self-contained too, having imaginary, if not actual, walls around them. Bunyan's allegorical novel, Mansoul (based on Bedford) encapsulates popular ideas about the town as a sort of citadel. But the age-old, or at least medieval, campanilismo (local patriotism) of towns was under attack after 1661, and all the more after 1680, intermittently from the Crown but more insistently from the gentry, acting as shire authorities and empowered by the 1661 Corporations Act to invade the boroughs. Townsmen strove to repel these invasions: in Nottingham in 1682, for instance, they maintained that 'we never have any Gentleman here among us'.34 The aim, often a successful one, of county gentry to subject the boroughs to their authority is well illustrated in the case of Poole in Dorset, a county corporate whose combination of'faction', Nonconformity and autonomy outraged most of the shire gentry to the extent that they instigated a quo warranto (an inquiry into the town's charter) in 1684.35 Their particular complaint was 'that no justice can be had therein'. It was just so in the case of the Lancashire authorities with regard to Wigan whose exceptional independence in practice - it 'setts up for a principality of it self36 appalled the clerk of the peace Kenyon. It was this very sense of the inviolability of the place they lived in that was aroused by Kenyon's invasion, with the bailiffs told 'they had no authority in that town'.37 They were repulsed as strangers and intruders. Linked to the defence of the town against outsiders was the defence of a neighbour under attack. Neighbourliness was a crucial component in pre-industrial English popular culture. We hear, for example, a great deal about popular anti-popery, but a Catholic neighbour was not popery, he was a neighbour. So it was with the Catholic Nicholas Blundell who invested in the trade of the Protestant town of Liverpool, borrowed money from a prominent Whig alderman who assisted him in evading the recusancy fines and prevailed on leading Liverpudlians to help him to smuggle large sums of money to a convent abroad.38 It was just the same with Dissenters, at least if they were natives and neighbours. In Bedford, for example, a magistrate's order to round up Nonconformists would see the town deserted." The first Quakers may 33

B. Sharp, In Contempt of All Authority. Rural Artisans and Riot in the West of England, 1586-1660 (1980), pp. 50-3. 34D. Gray, Nottingham through 500 years (Nottingham, 1960), p. 103. 35 R. North, Lives of the Norths, ed. A. Jessop (3 vols., 1890), I, 153, 165. 36 H.M.C., Kenyan MSS., p. 132. 37 Ibid. 38 Margaret Blundell, Cavalier: Letters of William Blundell to his Friends, 1620-1698 (1933), pp. 119, 209-211. 39 J. Brown, John Bunyan. His Life, Times and Work (1885), pp. 219-20.

138 Britain in the First Age of Party have been regarded as strangers and wild men, hounded by crowds.40 Their spiritual descendants in the eighteenth century, however, settled down in their communities and their communities settled down to them, protected them from harsh laws and paid their tithes for them.41 To repeat, neighbourliness came first, and united communities against intruders in defence of a neighbour, all the more so when some elementary popular sense of justice was outraged and regardless, it seems, of that neighbour's religion. So, in the case of the Wigan riot of 1681, in defence of a Catholic neighbour, as far as we can tell only a minority of the rioters were themselves Catholic.42 The protegee of the rioters in the Wigan incident of 1681 was the victim of a particularly egregious injustice, violating the popular conception of what was right. Let us go over the circumstances again: a well-off squire, one in fact who made a fortune by 'manageing the Convictions of the Roman Catholicks',43 victimizes a sick widow. The sense of exhilaration that can be detected in at least some accounts of the Wigan riot indicates the crowd behaving unconsciously like the perpetrators of revenge in one of the ballad stories, perhaps in the still popular Robin Hood cycle. Life imitated folk art in this carnival-cum-riot, and the mob action had a happy ending: the oppressors were beaten off. True justice was restored. For the point about the Wigan episode with regard to popular culture is that it shows how its participants were able to draw a key distinction between justice and law. By borrowing from a continental context, that of Germany in the sixteenth-century Peasants' Revolt, we could see how man-made laws might be scrutinized by the populace for their correspondence to some ultimate source of law. Put another way, popular culture tended not to regard laws as automatically valid in themselves but only insofar as they corresponded to some underlying principle of true law and justice. In part, this yardstick was custom: what was new, or apparently new, was scrutinized with particular care. This was why Roger Kenyon's intervention in Wigan affairs, apparently after a lapse of about a generation, was resented as an innovation. But the resistance of the Wigan crowd was provoked by the violation of a principle of justice that was as simple and intelligible as 'fair play'. In the 40 E.g., Lancaster Friends' Meeting House, 'Lancashire Quarterly Meeting Minutes, 1669-1711', pp. 309, 314, 316, 317. 41 M. Mullett, 'From Sect to Denomination? Social Developments in EighteenthCentury English Quakerism', Journal of Religious History, XIV (1984), 168-191. 42 'A List of Convicted Recusants in the Reign of Charles IF, ed. J. Gillow and J. Hansom, Catholic Record Sot., VI (1909), 118-119; R. Sharp France, The Register of Estates of Lancashire Papists, 1717-1788. Vol. Ill, 1717 (Record Sac. of Lancashire and Cheshire, CXVII, 1960), p. 56; Wigan R.O., 'Calendar of Borough Court Leet Records', I, 427-8. 43 Lancashire R.O., DDKe/9/58 (25). 44 Heide Wunder, 'Old Law and Divine Law in the German Peasant War', The German Peasant War of 1525, ed. J. Bak (1976), pp. 54-63.

Popular Culture and Popular Politics 139 eighteenth century it was considered to be a violation of fair play that, on top of being executed, felons were subsequently dismembered by surgeons: the crowds at Tyburn rioted. So it was with our incident at Wigan, and the scrutineer of unfairness or injustice was the collective consciousness of the crowd. Incidentally, the Privy Council's attitude to the Wigan riot was disappointment that things 'were not so quiet with the Papists as they expected'.46 It is possible to read into this note of rebuke a reprimand to the Lancashire authorities for needlessly stirring up a viper's nest of crowd anger, just as it is possible to read into the relative subsequent immunity of the rioters an awareness in high places that they had a point. It is part of the essential legitimacy of early modern riots that there was widespread agreement that they were provoked by genuine grievances. This is underlined by the fact, pointed out by Geoffrey Holmes, that until the 1715 Riot Act killing a rioter could lead to a murder charge.47 Finally, in our consideration of what the Wigan riot tells us about popular values, we note the role of women: 'the pour weman in the street' and the doughty lady who threatened the bailiffs with her penknife.48 The Victorian historian of Wigan thought that the rioters were men dressed as women, in which case we would have had a case of 'inversion' to write about.49 But not so; the Wigan rioters were not transvestites. Were they then women rioting as an act of solidarity with an aggrieved member of their sex? This is certainly possible. Theories to account for the recognised prominence of women in pre-industrial English riots include two: first, women were involved in bread riots because they had to put bread on the table and were the worst or first affected when the prices rose; second, they were less liable, as women to subsequent punishment. Neither of these theories helps us much in explaining women's role in the Wigan riots. The first is not much use, however useful it is in dealing with bread riots, because the Wigan event was not a bread riot. The second theory indicates a touching belief in the chivalry of the rulers of pre-industrial England. The reason for the prominent part of women in the riot of 1681 is the reason for their prominence in riots: if riots were the voice of the voiceless, then they were pre-eminently the means of protest open to women. I should like to stay for a while with Wigan, for events there slightly later in the 1680s may help us to investigate further the question of how ideas are conveyed into popular culture, and from whom. I suggest, for 45 P. Lincbaugh, The Tyburn Riot against the Surgeons', Albion's Fatal Tree. Crime and Society in Eighteenth-Century England, ed. Douglas Hay, et. al. (1975), pp. 65-117. 46 Lancashire R.O., DDKe/9/53 (1): Sir Robert Carr to Roger Kenyon, 1 Oct. 1681. 47 Holmes, 'Sacheverell Riots', pp. 56-7; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 218-19. 48 H.M.C., Kenyon MSS., p. 132. 49 D. Sinclair, History of Wigan (2 vols., 1882-3), II, 121-2.

140 Britain in the First Age. of Party instance, that sermons, in a society from which illiteracy was ebbing away only slowly, were still an extremely important medium for feeding ideas into popular culture. Dr. Marchant tells us of the frequent homilies 'Against Disobedience and wilful Rebellion' and Professor Laslett tells us about catechesis along the lines of complete submission to all 'governors, teachers, spiritual pastors and masters'.30 Sermons continued to be used to put over a political message in the late seventeenth century, and given the political profile of the Church of England, the main medium for delivering sermons, the message was generally an authoritarian one. At the Preston Guild of 1682, for instance, Richard Wroe, preaching on the text 'How good it is for brethren to dwell together in unity', set out Tory ideals for local consumption: strict obedience, good fellowship, religious unity and the supression of 'seditious' conventicles.51 This emphasis on the oral medium of the sermon in conveying political ideas to popular audiences can be paralleled by the use of addresses to the throne. I should like to look in particular at the series of Tory addresses in the early 1680s, for these both systemized and popularized Tory ideology. It is true that they were written documents and were published in the Gazette; Burnet thought in order that people abroad could read them.52 But they were probably read out before being endorsed and, at least conventionally, were intended for oral delivery to the King. They were political sermons. As such they disseminated Tory ideas and prejudices to a popular audience. A glimpse of this process can be seen as we now return to investigate Wigan's troubled history in the 1680s and in particular another 'religious riot'. These fresh disturbances broke out one night in September 1683 when a couple 'much in drinke', Richard and Martha Anice, led a 'great Crowd' of between 30 and 60 people through the town's middle-class quarter of Millgate and Standishgate, abusing the residents especially the Whig Presbyterian John Green and 'all or most of the inhabitants in and neere the Millgate in many foule and abusive words Calling them Rogues and presbiterian Rascalls and papist doges and sinners and whores'. The Anices' attacks on 'papist doges' as well as Presbyterians were by no means uncommon in the profile of late Stuart bigotry, but I want to concentrate on the offensive words and actions against Whigs and Presbyterians, to see how this 50

Marchant, in K. Wrightsoii, English Society, 1580-1680 (1982), p. 60; P. Laslett, The World We Have Lost (1971), pp. 186-7; Reay, Quakers and English Revolution, pp. 161-2; G. J. Schochet, 'Patriarchalism, Politics and Mass Attitudes in Stuart England', Historical Journal, XII (1969), 413-441. 51 M. Mullett, '"To Dwell Together in Unity": The Search for Agreement in Preston Politics, 1660-1690', Transactions of the Historic Soc. of Lancashire and Cheshire, CXXV (1975), 73-4. 52 'Some Unpublished Letters of Gilbert Burnet', ed. H. C. Foxwell, Camden Miscellany, XI (Camden Soc., 3rd ser., XIII, 1907), p. 21.

Popular Culture and Popular Politics 141 prejudice might have been instilled. The Anices and the mob they led focused on the Whig-Nonconformist identity of their victims, who included John Green, who was accused of treason, and the 'presbyterian Rogue',bailiff Ralph Wackfield. Martha Anice's slogan encapsulated a political identification: she 'bid god damned all presbiterian Rogues and Whiggs in the Towne'.53 Such ideas clearly anticipate 'King and Church' violence against Whigs and Dissenters in the eighteenth century and so the Wigan 1683 riot begins to look like an early form of the 'Sacheverell Syndrome'. I further suggest that there was some connexion between this incident of September 1683 and the previous month's Wigan address condemning the Rye House Plot. That Tory address was perhaps the most highflying of the series denouncing the Plot, and it earned first place in the Gazette. In particular, the address, using the most unrestrained language, identified the Plot with Nonconformity and traced it to 'Republicans and Factious Zealots . . . Fanatick Sectaries and Seditious Conventiclers'. The biographer of the local squire, the crypto-Catholic Sir Roger Bradshaigh, rightly sees in the address the influence of this violently anti-Dissenter high Tory, especially in the 'strong condemnation of the Dissenters' role in the Rye House Plot'.55 In agreeing that Bradshaigh's influence in the composition of the address was probably decisive, one should also consider the influence of the language used in the 1683 address on local opinion; it is surely no coincidence that its submission was followed almost immediately by a popular pogrom against the targets that the address had identified. There is here, then a strong possibility of ideas adopted by members of ruling elites percolating through to the crowd whose members were thereby exposed to a new, national political vocabulary. However, allegations contained in the address (they were, of course, completely groundless, even if the Rye House Plot actually existed) probably gave respectability to, rather than created, the popular prejudice against Dissenters that the riot exemplified; with Bradshaigh playing a role rather like that of a Georgian squire setting a mob on a Methodist missionary. 56 The victims of the riot were the crowd's own enemies, including individuals closely associated with a closed corporation that seems from all the evidence to have been widely unpopular in the town. The district that Martha Anice threatened to burn from end to end was the comfortably-off aldermanic area of the town, and the rioters 53

Wigan R.O., 'Court Leet Rolls', 51, pp. 42-4: H.M.C., Kenyan MSS., p. 423. The Address was printed in the Wigan Observer, 14 May 1927. 55 A. Hawkes, 'Sir Roger Bradshaigh of Haigh', Chetham Miscellany, new scr., VIII (1945), p. 73; HP 1660-90, p. 294. 56 For popular anti-Puritanism, and the whole gamut of popular conservatism in post-Restoration England, see D. Underdown, Revel, Riot and Rebellion. Popular Politics and Culture in England, 1603-1660 (Oxford, 1985), chapter 10. 54

142 Britain in the First Age of Party included servants of three corporation officers, doubtless levelling scores. Regardless of any 'class' element in this riot, there is a strident note of anti-puritanism, perhaps a hint of plebeian antipathy to the selfappointed 'godly', the local branch of the puritan (in Wigan's case, largely Presbyterian) cadres who had been conducting a long-term, national campaign against popular culture, and popular entertainment and festivity in seventeenth-century England. It is possible that the antipathy to the corporation and its members of which we have evidence, including attempted kidnaps of aldermen, an antagonism of which the 1683 riot is a reflection, arose because, after 1660 the mass of local inhabitants were excluded from corporation affairs and from the parliamentary franchise. The same process of exclusion of ordinary people from local corporation affairs was a characteristic development in English municipal history between the sixteenth and the nineteenth centuries. It was not invariable, and did not obtain in Norwich.57 Nevertheless, it did take place on a large scale, and is evident, to take only one example from many, in Leeds. It can be argued that one popular response to this increasing exclusiveness was the phenomenon, exceptionally widespread in pre-nineteenth century English culture, of mock mayors and mock corporations. The historian of the mock corporation of Newcastle-under-Lyme argued that after the right of the burgesses at large to elect the mayor was taken away from them in the new charter of 1590, 'they determined to cast an odium upon the ceremony of election, yet in some measure to retain the semblance of their rights, by electing a "mock mayor" . . . a burlesque on the corporate election'. Indeed, the mock ceremony at Newcastleunder-Lyme, closely shadowing the affairs of the real corporation, seems to provide a particularly clear example of parody as conscious political satire and as 'having a political quality, expressing political discontents'.60 There is ample evidence that in their heyday the mock corporations were effective vehicles for political satire, and for satire on politicians in

general.

In

eighteenth-century

Wandsworth,

for

example,

parliamentary elections were followed by burlesque versions in which, under the presidency of a 'roguish and very deformed mendicant' as mayor, candidates made speeches promising cheap gin, beer and bread 57

C. B. Jewson, The Jacobin City: A Portrait of Norwich in the Reaction to The French Revolution (1975), chapter 3. 58 S. and Beatrice Webb, A History of English Local Government, II, The Manor and the Borough, II (1963), pp. 415, 422. 59 J. Mayer, 'An Account of the Ancient Custom of Electing a Mock Mayor in Newcastle-under-Lyme', Transactions of the Historic Soc. of Lancashire and Cheshire, III (1851), 126. 60 G. H. Martin and Sylvia Mclntyre, A Bibliography of British and Irish Municipal History (Leicester, 1972), p. 263.

Popular Culture and Popular Politics 143 and a policy of making old women bishops.61 The satirical theme, then, of the Wandsworth parody was cynicism about electioneering politicians, especially their unreal promises, including the assurances that they would not 'accept any place in the house'. Similarly, in Polperro a mock mayor made 'large promises of full work, better wages, and a liberal allowance of beer during his term of office'.6 Where the satire on the pretensions of politicians, or of actual corporations and their ceremonial, was too near the mark real mayors often took strenuous action to wind up the mock corporation. At Penryn, where the journeymen tailors chose one of their number as mayor to be accompanied by two 'serjeants' carrying cabbages in place of maces, the mayor sought, unsuccessfully, to suppress the parody, while in nineteenth-century St. Ives, Cornwall, the over-long reporting of a mock mayoring in the local press so outraged the real mayor that he had the burlesque version put down.63 Popular derision was doubtless encouraged by the often inflated and pompous ritual of corporations, and the English in the eighteenth century had a reputation for their vociferously scornful attitude to anyone putting on airs.64 The acquisition of regalia, the wearing of gowns, the endless dinners, the processions and the rest were encouraged, especially in the 1680s, by local gentry as a way of fostering a Tory political spirit in corporations, but in some places, especially in such tiny towns as Clitheroe in Lancashire, the panoply of ceremony and expense maintained by the corporation - robes, plate, feasts and all - surely invited ridicule.65 It was corporation ritual per se

that was being held up to mockery in such parodies as that in Newbury, where a mace and other regalia were extemporized and the mayoral banquet of the proper corporation risibly imitated in a cheap dinner of bacon and beans.6 However, apart from ridicule of pretension for its own sake and for enjoyment, mock mayorings and mock corporations had the important 'function' of calling attention to alleged usurpation of common rights on the part of the local corporations, most of which by the eighteenth century were self-recruiting cliques. Thus at Bideford in Devon the satire on the real corporation by the mock corporation was particularly close, for the mock mayor, who was 'elected', dressed and 61 G. S. Gidley, 'Sham Mayors', Devon and Cornwall Notes and Queries, X (1918-19), 270-1. 62 W. T. Martin, 'Mock Mayors in Cornwall', ibid., XIII (1925), 16-17. 63 Ibid., p. 22. 64 D. Jarrett, England in the Age of Hogarth (1974), chapter 2. 65 Mullett, '"To Dwell Together in Unity"', p. 73; idem, '"Men of Knowne Loyalty": The Politics of the Lancashire Borough of Clitheroe, 1660-1689', Northern History, XXI (1985), 110-111. 66 W. Money, 'The Mock Mayors of "The City" of Newbury', Berkshire Archeohgical Soc.,I, (1895), 112.

144 Britain in the First Age of Party carriaged with considerable ceremony, called on the real mayor, the real councillors and aldermen (especially the newly elected), and those not returned, giving one of the last-named group the assurance that he would be mock mayor the following year. Bideford's case is one of close ridicule of the corporation by those shut out from it.67 And what Madeley wrote about the elaborate burlesqueing procedures in Newcastle-under-Lyme can, I believe, be applied to Bideford and to all or most of the other mock corporations: 'burlesqueing the proceedings of the real corporation of the town as a protest against the arrangement under which that body was self-elected'.68 The rights that the rank and file of inhabitants may once have enjoyed in the governance of Newcastle-under-Lyme, and indeed the importance of the local government of Newcastle-under-Lyme, may seem matters of little consequence by our standards, but most premodern English people thought in local terms, and a say in the affairs of the local community mattered to them. This was all the more so if what was involved was a loss of rights of participation which had once been enjoyed_or were thought once to have been enjoyed. The erosion of prescriptive rights and privileges, based on custom, not theory, was deeply resented, as we see in numerous local riots against the deprivation of freemen's rights in municipal elections. The political history of Lancaster in the 1680s is marked by an intense struggle by freemen against the corporation to conserve the freemen's political and economic position.69 Nor is this popular defensiveness incompatible with the plebeian conservatism and deference that we have been investigating, though deference was perhaps more forthcoming towards squires and nobles than to urban magistrates, towards whom a demotic inverted snobbery may have been directed. Deference prevailed in a static social order in which everyone's ancestral rights, however minimal, were supposed to be respected. This fact may explain Norwich's underlying political stability, especially in the late eighteenth century, though the serene Trollopian atmosphere in the late eighteenth century, with the city's population of about 40,000 not much of an improvement on seventeenth-century levels, clearly did not help the East Anglian metropolis to take off into industrialization. So far in this essay I have been emphasizing conformity, conservatism and acceptance of the status quo on the part of the greater part of the English populace. There was another tradition, one of radical, plebeian dissent, not only in English but in European popular 67R. Pearsc Chope, 'Mock Mayors in Devon', Devon and Cornwall Notes and Queries, XIII (1925), 267-8. 68 C. Madeley, 'The Roll of the Mock Corporation of Farnworth in Widnes', Transactions of the Historical Soc. of Lancashire and Cheshire, new ser., XXVI (1916), 37. 69 M. Mullen, 'Conflict, Politics and Elections in Lancashire, 1660-1688', Northern History, XIX (1983), 61-86.

Popular Culture and Popular Politics 145 culture. What happened to this 'alternative tradition' in the late seventeeth and early eighteenth centuries? One set of manifestations of it can be seen during the Civil War period, for instance in the Digger movement: this was a radical communitarian grouping that held out for a radical rejection of social hierarchy, and it can be considered part of a wider spectrum of social insurgency in early modern England (and Europe), the result of extreme distress. For much of the seventeeth century, Europe remained in the grip of a 'little ice age' and the effects of this climatic crisis on harvests was frequently calamitous.70 The catastrophic price inflation (a possible 650 per cent between 1500 and 1640) was most acutely reflected in high food prices, with wages lagging far behind. Even where actual famine was headed off (though it was not in the far north in the early seventeenth century) 71 there was malnutrition and mass distress that received its 'political' expression in frequent popular repudiations, in words and deed, of deference and of the 'paternalist' society which was, clearly, not working if the poor were starving. 72 Indeed, popular rejection of submission in the late sixteenth century and the first half of the seventeenth century was the outcome of, and even provides a chronology of, this long-term and dire mass hardship. For desperate people do rise up against their misfortunes, and Locke recognized the likelihood of attacks by the poor on the very foundations of the social order 'when some common or great distress, uniting them in one universal ferment, makes them forget respect, and emboldens them to carve to their wants with armed force, and then sometimes they break in upon the rich and sweep all like a deluge'.73 'Some common or great distress' produced riots and risings, from the 1580s to the 1630s, the most serious coinciding with the worst of times for the poor, especially those dependent wholly or in part on wages; this 'iron age' in English history witnessed the popular articulation of the most dangerous and corrosive social criticism: 4 yt wold never be merye till some of the gentlemen were knocked downe . . . to kill the gentlemen of that countrie and to take the spoile of them . . . the rich men had gotten all into their hands, and will starve the poor . . . they would kill some of those rich men that the rest might sell corne cheaper.

70

For the 'little ice age', sec, e.g., G. Parker, Europe in Crisis, 1598-1648, (1979), pp. 17-28. 71 A. B. Appleby, 'Disease of Famine? Mortality in Cumbria and Westmorland, 1580-1640', Ec.H.R., XXVI (1973), 403-432. 72 Though Dr. Clark emphasises the deferential nature of popular protest (P. Clark, 'Popular Protest and Disturbance in Kent, 1558-1640', Ec.H.R., XXIX [1976], 365382), he also cites riot as the outcome of the social order's 'failure to function'. rf In Laslett, The World We Have Lost, p. 54. 74 Sharp, In Contempt, pp. 36-41.

146 Britain in the First Age of Party Such social protest could of course also include political deference in as much as vilification of the gentry and the rich might still preserve, or even strengthen, the image of the King as father and saviour of his people. But social deference, to immediate superiors and to all gentry, was the key to all deference in the patriarchal model, and it broke down when work and food were scarce, when prices rose too sharply, when relief was inadequate or denied. This is why, as we saw, the prudent Norwich authorities did all in their power to protect local jobs and to dispense adequate poor relief and charity. Perhaps they knew the dangers authority faced when these provisions broke down. In 1595 an anonymous libel circulating in the city threatened an appalling messianic vengeance on the exploitative rich.75 There were more such libels some 70 years later in Norwich when 'the poor murmur much and say they will live in better houses than now they do'.76 This was even when the city was paying out £200 a week in poor relief. But the occasions for the outbreak of such subversive talk in Norwich, so reminiscent of the earlier verbal sedition we have just reviewed, was an event that was, mercifully about to become a memory, a visitation of the plague with its attendant miseries. No one, least of all in the face of Gregory King's grim figures, showing vast numbers on relief, would want to give a rosy picture of life for the poor in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. However, moderately optimistic historians looking at late Stuart and Augustan England come away with an impression of higher wages, lower food prices and perhaps greater consumption of meat,77 lending some substance to those popular fantasies about the Englishman and his roast beef. As conditions for many slowly improved (with many setbacks) in post-Restoration England, whether 'naturally' or through government intervention, the edge was taken off the sheer desperation that had shattered deference, the basis of all the political assent we have have been considering. Throughout the seventeenth century a rough alliance had been forming between monarchy and popular culture. On the face of it, Charles Fs court, with its rarefied, cosmopolitan culture - the epitome, indeed, of elite culture - had nothing to say to English vernacular culture. However, there were two gestures on the part of Charles I's regime that may have cemented an alliance between the court and much of the populace, thereby conceivably creating some spontaneous popular support for the King in the Civil Wars. The first of these gestures was the reissue of Charles I in 1633 of his father's Book of 75 76 77

Ibid., p. 70. C.S.P.Dom., 1665-6, p. 523.

E.g., D. C. Coleman, The Economy of England. 1450-1750 (1977), p. 101 ff.; B. A. Holderness, Pre-Industrial England: Economy and Society, 1500-1750 (1976), p. 209 ff.; or E. L. Jones, 'Agriculture and Economic Growth in England, 1660-1750: Agricultural Change', Economic Growth in England, 1650-1850, ed. E. L. Jones (1967), pp. 152-171.

Popular Culture and Popular Politics

147

Sports, giving royal approval to a non-sabbatarian Sunday and a general air of merry England; the second gesture was the active paternalism shown in the Book of Orders to deal with the food crisis of 1630-1. In the Civil War period, the force of popular localism was revealed in the Clubmen movements in counties such as Worcestershire: the poor, after all, have most to fear from war. However, the neutralism evident in the Clubmen had a Royalist rather than Parliamentarian bias and it is possible that the popular imagination placed the onus of blame on Parliament rather than Crown for the great suffering of the 1640s when 'England turned Germany'. The unpopularity of Puritan restraint in the 1650s made way for the nationwide euphoria for the Restoration in 1660. Monarchy, peerage, gentry, hierarchy and the Church became now firmly identified with all the apparatus of what had survived of a popular culture originally developed in the middle ages - maypoles and morris dancing, drinking and feasting, sports and holidays, an easy-going Sunday - everything that godly social reformers had sought to suppress. To clinch the popularity of the traditional symbols, restored monarchy was extraordinarily fortunate in having a 'lord of misrule' as its personification. Since popular culture personifies politics, and the Restoration was the restoration of a man as well as of institutions, it was as well that Charles II had the personality for popularity. In 1660, and for some years after, his relative youth echoed the period's evident appetite, in all sections of society, for moral emancipation. The King was easy of access, even to a string of importunate Quaker petitioners from the provinces. We catch a glimpse of his relaxed and popular style in Pepys's vignette of him striding through Hyde Park. Of course, Professor Plumb's remarks are true about Charles' failure to create a dignified court damaging the prospects for absolutism.78 On the other hand, Charles' casual approach, in so far as it was known about, fulfilled an appetite in popular culture for what the period called 'condescension': the readiness of the great, above all Kings, sometimes to rub shoulders with the crowd and share widely enjoyed pleasures, such as horse racing. Charles II was the Book of Sports made flesh. His personal popularity, and that of monarchy of course, is attested by the massive revival of the ceremony of touching for the King's Evil in this period. A brief word is necesarry on popular Whiggery, my argument being that even this phenomenon can confirm an impression of social and political deference. Launched largely by aristocrats of the stamp of 78

J. H. Plumb, The Growth of Political Stability in England, 1675-1725 (Penguin edn., 1969), pp. 27-8; for Charles II's popularity, see, e.g., G. Davies, Essays on the Later Stuarts (Westport, Conn., 1975), pp. 38-9; for Charles's coronation as propaganda, G. Reedy, 'Mystical Politics: The Imagery of Charles II's Coronation', Studies in Change and Revolution, ed. P. J. Korshin (New York, 1972), pp. 19-42.

148 Britain in the First Age of Party Shaftesbury, Essex, Russell and the rest, and in defence of the life of an anointed King, Whiggery may even have confirmed habits of deference to social superiors. It also, by the way, played back the results of a century of sustained propaganda by which masses of English people were indoctrinated into the paranoia of anti-popery. In the 1680s, Charles H's illegitimate son Monmouth became the living symbol of this anti-popery. His charismatic appeal depended on three factors. First, Monmouth had star quality; he was brave (brutal, too), athletic, resolutely unintellectual, vapidly handsome, and possessed in great measure an indispensable prop of deference, the common touch of populist condescension. Secondly, inheriting his father's physical and sensual approach to life, Monmouth might have seemed like the young king reborn (though Charles' character, like that of most of the Stuarts, deteriorated with age, he was, like George III and Victoria, popular towards the end of his reign, but he was old). Thirdly, Monmouth — huntsman, soldier and chevalier - represented a popular heroic type, like Charles XII of Sweden, the sort celebrated in ballads and prints. His popular appeal was deliberately promoted, especially on his tours which were probably organised by Shaftesbury. Not just in the West, where the 'common people' received him rapturously, but in the north west, during his 'progress' in 1682, his undisguised populist bid for the throne was warmly welcomed, at Liverpool, for example, by 'the rabble . . . the vulgar sort of people'.79 In Lancaster in the 1680s, by the way, not only was there explicit mass support for Monmouth in 1685, but it was paralleled by massive freeman electoral commitment to Lord Brandon's Whig cause in 1685. Deference could surely receive no clearer expression than this enrolment of plebeians behind noblemen and royal bastards in the Whig cause. For many readers the conclusions suggested in this essay might make depressing reading; that before the end of the seventeenth century the English had been confirmed as a nation of forelock-touchers who blithely accepted an unequal and exploitative social system which was maintained by the patriarchal propaganda of the Church of England and made acceptable to the common people by meagre doles of charity and relief. Any such conclusion would certainly need to be modified by awareness of sharp regional variations and differences within the strata making up the populace. Nor need the picture of 'deference' be drawn too sharply. The 'crowd' knew its rights and was generally conservative but not slavish. In the seventeenth century, Royalism, then Toryism, were linked to the defence of a popular culture that had been under attack from earnest reformers. Eventually that essentially medieval popular culture had to succumb, but to industrialization rather than to puritanism. 79

C.S.P.Dom., 1682, pp. 396-7, 414.

Popular Culture and Popular Politics 149 If there is any temptation to romanticise English popular, and popular political culture, it is worth reminding ourselves that sonic of its most characteristic features were an almost immovable religious bigotry and a poisonous xenophobia. Some would even argue that out of foreigners and religious deviants the 'establishment' created scapegoats on whom popular resentment, better directed against the exploiters, could be turned. It may indeed be the case that prejudice, the most striking feature of the popular culture we have been examining, maintained until the nineteenth century and perhaps beyond, the postrevolutionary social and political system that England's rulers devised in 1660, 1689 and 1714.

Bibliographical Note The best general guide to the burgeoning subject of popular culture is P. Burke, Popular Culture in Early Modern Europe (1978). In England the conflict between popular, traditional culture and 'the culture of the godly' came to a head in the 1640s and 1650s: see D. Underdown, Revel, Riot and Rebellion. Popular Politics and Culture in England, 16031660 (Oxford, 1985). During the Civil War period, the Church of England consolidated its position at the heart of 'the Englishman's consciousness and . . . sunk deep roots in popular culture': so says J. Morrill in 'The Church in England, 1642-9', Reactions to the English Civil War, 1642-1649, ed. J. Morrill (1982). The victory of the Church was, of course, confirmed at the Restoration, as is shown by R. A. Beddard in 'The Restoration Church', The Restored Monarchy, 16601688, ed. J. R. Jones (1979), pp. 155-175. Anti-popery was another 'religious' aspect of popular culture and gave the first Whig party a mass following: see J. Kenyon, The Popish Plot (1972), especially chapter I, and J. Miller, Popery and Politics in England, 1660-1688 (Cambridge, 1973). The Restoration was, it is now obvious, infinitely more than a constitutional re-adjustment; it was a massive act of collective nostalgia, and the best recent guide to it is R. Hutton, The Restoration. A Political and Religious History of England and Wales, 1658-1667 (Oxford, 1985). G. Davies earlier showed acute appreciation of the popular welcome for the Restoration in his The Restoration of Charles II, 1658-1660 (Oxford, 1955), especially p. 359 ff. R. M. Bliss summarises recent work on the period between the Restoration and the Glorious Revolution with admirable succinctness

150 Britain in the First Age of Party and clarity in The Restoration, 1660-1688 (1985). The 1680s, a particular focus in my essay, receives excellent coverage in J. R. Western, Monarchy and Revolution. The English State in the 1680s (1972). The story of the retreat from radicalism is recounted in Christopher Hill, The Experience of Defeat: Milton and Some Contemporaries (1984). Amongst a number of studies of deferential attitudes, G. J. Schochet, in Historical Journal, XII (1969), 413-441, shows how such attitudes might have been instilled, even if he cannot, perhaps, prove that they were. The proof is likely to lie in crowd action and symbolism, giving forceful expression to a popular outlook that we can label traditionalistic. The seminal work is G. Holmes, 'The Sacheverell Riots: The Crowd and the Church in Early Eighteenth-Century London', Past and Present, No. 72 (1976), pp. 55-85; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 214-47. In 'Popular Protest in Early Hanoverian London', Past and Present, No. 79 (1978) Nicholas Rogers contributes further to our knowledge of the Tory views held by London craftsmen and tradesmen. In Newcastle the crowd rioted over bread - but in defiance of a closed corporation confronting a large freeman body: see Joyce Ellis, 'Urban Conflict and Popular Violence: The Guildhall Riots of 1740 in Newcastle-upon-Tyne', International Review of Social History, XXV (1980), 232-49. In his study of Seventeenth-Century Norwich, Religion and Government, 1620-1690 (Oxford, 1979), J. T. Evans shows that the East Anglian capital was one place where respect for inherited political rights - a vital ingredient in the maintenance of deference - was upheld.

8

Local Government* Lionel K. J. Glassey

Almost exactly one hundred years ago, F. W. Maitland addressed himself in a short essay to the history of the office .of justice of the peace. He wrote:1 Our historians, even some who write what call themselves 'constitutional histories', arc apt to spend all their energies upon describing the flashy episodes of national life, scenes in Parliament, tragedies on Tower Hill, the strife of Whigs and Tories, wars and rumours of wars. To deal with the vulgar affairs of commonplace counties, to show what the laws made in Parliament . . . really meant to the mass of the people, this was beneath their dignity or beyond their industry. To chronicle such exiguous beer (for even of the control over alehouses there is much to be said) would bring no fame, and would be a very laborious task. Some day it will be otherwise . . . a history of the eighteenth century which does not place the justice of the peace in the very foreground of the picture, will be seen for what it is - a caricature. He would surely have been gratified to learn that the prodigious labours of Sidney and Beatrice Webb on the history of local government, including the history of alehouses, were to begin about ten years afterwards; and gratified, too, to know that political and constitutional historians have come to ignore local issues at their peril. Geoffrey Holmes's analysis of 'the strife of Whigs and Tories' in the reign of Anne is based on a deep knowledge of the intimate political life of hundreds of local constituencies, and Holmes echoed Maitland when he wrote:2 the upper strata of county society were as thoroughly permeated as any sector of the nation's life by the strife of Tory and Whig. The key institutions and offices in every shire - the Lord Lieutenancy, the deputy lieutenancies, the militia officers and officials, the Commissioners and *I am grateful to my colleagues Dr. A. G. R. Smith and Dr. B. Dietz for reading and commenting on an early draft of this paper. I should like to thank Lord Kenyon and the Chief Executive of the Reigate and Banstead Borough Council for permission to quote from documents in their possession, lodged at, respectively, the Lancashire and Surrey Record Offices. 1 Collected Papers oj Frederic William Maitland, ed. H. A. L. Fisher (3 vols., Cambridge, 1911), I, 468-9. 2 Holmes, British Politics, pp. 25-6.

152 Britain in the First Age of Party Receiver of the Land Tax and other collectorships, the commission of the peace - became so many focal points of local rivalries in which party allegiance after 1701 played an increasingly important part . . . Obviously these local prizes . . . were all of them vital ingredients in the building up of what contemporaries called 'interest' - that magical word in the language of the day.

So much have historians taken Maitland's words to heart that it would not be entirely impracticable to construct an interpretation of the whole of English history from the Reformation to the Industrial Revolution, solely in terms of the changes in the balance of power between the King's government at the centre and the agents of government in the localities. Thus: the Reformation marked the weakening of the Church, a powerful rival for local authority to the nobility and the gentry, and the assumption by the laity of many of the local responsibilities of that rival, notably poor relief; the Civil War was the consequence of the adoption of over-robust techniques of government by the centre, which interfered with the local independence of the squires and which could be interpreted by them as tyranny; the Protectorate broke down because one unacceptably vigorous regime, that of the Stuarts, was replaced by another, that of the Major-Generals, at the centre; the Glorious Revolution was another revolt by the political elites of local government, which deeply resented their wholesale dismissal from local office following their unwillingness to co-operate with a policy of religious toleration imposed upon them by the King; the political stability of the eighteenth century resulted from the circumstance that an equilibrium between centre and locality had at last been reached. The whole thesis might be underpinned by Francis Bacon's sagacious remarks, made in 1617 but equally applicable to the century before, and the two centuries after, that year:" the institution . . . of Justices of peace . . . knits noblemen and gentlemen together, and in no place else but here in England are noblemen and gentlemen incorporated . . . besides it knits government elsewhere [in the counties] with the government of corporations, and puts them together and

those that have voices in Parliament to make laws for the most part are those which in the country are appointed to administer the same laws.

Any so narrowly focused interpretation of a long period of history is bound to be over-simplified. But as a prefatory ballon d'essai, the 'local government' theory of English political change has its uses, especially in drawing attention to the critical significance of the period at the end of the seventeenth century and the beginning of the eighteenth. Until 3

J. Spedding, Letters and Life of Francis Bacon (6 vols., 1862-74), VI, 303-4.

Local Government 153 the Restoration, the story is one of successive attempts by the centre to enforce discipline on the localities. Star Chamber and the MajorGenerals were two different methods of achieving essentially the same end. After the Revolution of 1688, the orthodox view is that the localities had achieved autonomy, and they pursued their own policies with little or no interference from central government. The author of one of the regrettably few studies of government and society in a single county for this period (regrettably few, that is, compared to the wealth of published examinations of'county communities' in the century or so before 1660) is able to assert that '[Nottinghamshire] was now left to live its own life, free not only from control of the centre, but even from guidance or supervision'. 4 This description of local government as autonomous oligarchy by the early eighteenth century is maintained in recent text-books.3 But 'autonomy' is a strong word. Orthodox views are not necessarily wrong, but they need to be tested from time to time. The concept of the independence from central control of the interest groups of the propertied classes in the counties and towns of England from 1689 onwards is well worth scrutiny. 2

The Restoration restored the King and the Church. It also restored the government of counties by Anglican squires, and it restored the government of towns by tradesmen and merchants sympathetic to the Stuart regime as defined by the commissioners appointed under the Corporation Act of 1661. But in the last years of Charles H's reign, and during the four years of James II's reign, the two kings and their ministers mounted possibly the most strenuous campaign of the seventeenth century to establish royal control over the institutions of local administration. This was not done primarily by investigation and supervision of what sheriffs, justices of the peace, deputy-lieutenants, mayors and aldermen actually did, although this aspect was not ignored. Rather, it was done by the progressively more ruthless exploitation of legal processes and of royal powers of patronage, with the intention of regulating, not local government, but the men who fulfilled the duties of local government. In the towns, this was carried out by writs of quo warranto. Beginning with Thctford in February 1682, the charters of the majority of boroughs which returned members to Parliament and of a large number of other chartered corporations were surrendered and re-issued in a new form which usually (though 4

J. D. Chambers, Nottinghamshire in the Eighteenth Century (2nd edn., 1966), p. 45. For example: B. Coward, The Stuart Age: A History of England, 1603-1714 (1980), pp. 417-18;J. R.Jones, Country and Court: England, 1658-1714(1978), pp. 55-6; W. A. Speck, Stability and Strife: England, 1714-1760 (1977), p. 27. 5

154 Britain in the First Age of Party not invariably) nominated new officeholders within the corporation and reserved to the Crown the power to veto the choices made in future elections or co-options to office. It has been persuasively argued by Dr. Pickavance in an as yet unpublished thesis, that the purpose of this campaign was not, as has traditionally been supposed, primarily to influence parliamentary elections. The main reason, as appears from the quo warrantor directed to corporations like Chard in Somerset, which did not return members to Parliament but which was reputed to be a centre of Dissent, was to ensure that the magistracy of the urban criminal courts was in the hands of men who would proceed fearlessly against Puritanism and sedition.6 The conflicts aroused in some corporations by Charles H's policy were acute. The remodelling of London in 1682-3 was a national cause celebre; Bristol, York and Oxford, as well as London, contested the quo warranto in the courts; in some places, like Nottingham, violent clashes occurred and ordered government virtually broke down, encouraging the central government to intervene still more closely in municipal affairs. James II also remodelled the corporations, although his policy was not simply a continuation of that of his brother. In 1687 and 1688, James took advantage of the powers of vetoing the choice of officeholders conferred on the Crown in the new charters, and he sacked the loyal men who had been installed three or four years earlier. Their places were taken by Catholics and Dissenters, and a handful of opportunists, some of them so obscure as to be untraceable in the family histories and other reference works of the period. The pages of the Privy Council register for 1687 and 1688 are rilled with orders for the displacement of corporation officeholders. The pages of the entry books of the Secretaries of State are filled with copies of warrants for new corporation charters, with the lists of names of those to be inserted annexed as a schedule. The experience of a group of Wiltshire corporations affords instructive evidence. The Mayor, 11 aldermen, 14 common councilman, and the town clerk were dismissed at Salisbury in November 1687. In December, there followed: at Chippenham, the Bailiff (who was the equivalent of the Mayor) and four senior burgesses; at Malmesbury, six burgesses; at Calne, 16 burgesses; at Devizes, the Mayor, five aldermen, eight capital burgesses and eight free burgesses. The new town clerk at Salisbury was replaced after a few weeks in office in February 1688, while Devizes underwent two more regulations of which the net effect was to eliminate five more aldermen, seven more capital burgesses, and 21 more free burgesses. In the summer of 1688, Wilton lost 19 burgesses, a town clerk, a town serjeant, and a bailiff; Calne lost a steward and 21 burgesses; 6

R. G. Pickavance, 'The English Boroughs and the King's Government: a study of the Tory Reaction, 1681-1685' (Oxford University, D.Phil., 1977), pp. 16-19.

Local Government 155 Malmesbury lost five burgesses. The warrant for Salisbury's new charter, with Lord Clarendon as High Steward and one Robert Hill, 'bridle cutler', as Lord Mayor, was signed in August 1688; those for Calne and Marlborough were signed in September, after a petition from Calne that their corporation had been dissolved by the Privy Council and the town 'left without government'. The pattern of events in the towns of Wiltshire was, broadly, copied throughout the kingdom. In the counties, the changes in the list of justices of the peace were easier to accomplish, because the justices were appointed in the commission of the peace, a large parchment document issued for each county separately under the great seal. A new commission of the peace with a fresh list of names simply superseded the old one. In March and April 1680, every county in England and Wales received a new commission. There was another near-comprehensive regulation of the county benches in July and August 1681. By the beginning of James's reign in 1685, criminal jurisdiction in the counties, as in the towns, rested with men of loyal principles who were not unwilling to use the powers of magistracy against religious Nonconformity and factious politics. Again, James undermined his brother's achievement, which had been considerable, by going too far in a different direction. In the course of 1687 and the first ten months of 1688, every English and Welsh county received at least one new commission of the peace. Indeed, only the smaller counties like Rutland and Westmorland received as few as one. Most counties received six or seven. Herefordshire, Hertfordshire and Kent had eight apiece; Gloucestershire, nine; and Middlesex, 13.8 The cumulative effect of this avalanche of new commissions was to remove a very high proportion of the traditional ruling class of Anglican gentlemen and to replace them as justices by obscure men of little standing within the county. 9 The immediate response to the humiliation of disgrace was often, surprisingly, one of philosophical resignation. Gentlemen who were left out of the commission of the peace were at pains to explain, elaborately, how little they valued the place and how glad they were to be quit of it. It was unpaid; it smacked of bucolic drudgery. In this fashion, a number of gentlemen persuaded themselves that the King had done them a favour. A real sense of chagrin, and a certain disgusted curiosity about the newcomers, was, however, sometimes hard to hide. Sir John Arderne, one of the 64 (out of 68) Lancashire justices put out 7 P.R.O., P.C. 2/72, pp. 542, 555, 561, 608, 613, 632, 678, 721, 732-3; C.S.P.Dom., 1687-8, pp. 248, 255, 262, 264. 8 P.R.O..C. 231/8, pp. 165 ff. 9 L. K. J. Glassey, Politics and the Appointment of Justices of the Peace, 1675-1720 (Oxford, 1979), pp. 45-54, 70-91; Norma Landau, The Justices of the Peace, 1679-1760(1984), pp. 73-9, 302-3.

156 Britain in the First Age of Party since the beginning of James's reign, wrote to the clerk of the peace in April 1688 that10 yesterdaye I receiv'd the tidings that about 30 of the late Justices of the peace of Lancashire are left out of the this [sic] last Commission; amongst them I am one. The newes neither surprized, nor troubled mec: Expecting, & desiring it; I thought from you I could have the Certainty: which is convenient for mee to knowe . . . I praye let mee know whoe our successors are.

There was a slightly less elegiac, more genuine ring to Sir Thomas Stringer's response in the same county: 11 I wonder I was not put out before, but notwithstanding I am in or out yet I shall continue & soe I hope v/ill all good men to be faithfull & loyall to my king & the Government.

A King, or a minister, who could put a man of Stringer's views off the bench of magistrates in his native county had surely carried tactlessness to the point of imbecility. Local officeholding was thus intensely vulnerable to manipulation from the centre through the 1680s. This manipulation cannot be divorced from its political context; the ministers of Charles II were seeking to strengthen at the local level the party of the loyal men, the Tories, against the party of the factious men, the Whigs. The background to Charles II's regulation was that of a sustained parliamentary campaign to pass a bill to exclude the Duke of York from the throne. There was a widespread apprehension that Puritan and republican ideals were resurgent, and a theory that the men who espoused such ideals should be firmly dealt with as criminals. James II's changes among local officeholders derived from his commitment to a programme of religious toleration which went far beyond what his subjects thought reasonable; and these changes produced - not, perhaps, the Revolution of 1688 itself, but at least the climate of opinion in which the Revolution could be accepted up and down the country. No government at the centre ever again aspired to remodel the officeholding classes in the provinces as thoroughly as was done in the 1680s. But local government was not immune from change for political reasons in the ranks of those who exercised it during the years after 1688. This fact by itself must qualify the supposition that the Revolution established 'local autonomy' for both country gentlemen and urban oligarchs. The conflicts of Whig and Tory in national politics between 1689 and 10

Lancashire R.O., DDKe 9/61/17 (Kcnyon MSS.): [Sir] John Arderne to Roger Kenyon, 20 Apr. 1688. 11 Lancashire R.O., DDKe 9/61/22: [Sir] Thomas Stringer to Roger Kenyon, May 1688 (date torn).

Local Government 157 1714 meant that from time to time there were revisions, often substantial if not on the scale of 1687-8, in the lists of county justices of the peace. After 1714 notorious Jacobites were, by and large, excluded, and the Tories were deliberately outnumbered in the commissions of the peace by bringing in large numbers of Whigs; this remained a Tory grievance at least until the mid-174()s. ~ Lords-lieutenant and custodes rotulorum were not too senior in the hierarchy of local government to suffer dismissal when the occasion seemed to demand it, and in many counties the custos appointed as important a figure in county administration as the clerk of the peace. The office of sheriff was not competed for, as it involved both expense and much unavoidable work; but sheriffs selected juries and acted as returning officers in parliamentary elections. Some care was expended on the choice of sheriffs, to secure an ally in a potential election year and a harmless and untried newcomer, or even an enemy, at other times. 13 The position in the towns was rather different, in that it was no longer easy for the centre simply to displace enemies and nominate supporters. In October 1688 James II, menaced by William's invasion plans, had issued a proclamation for 'restoring corporations to their ancient charters, liberties, rights and franchises', which annulled the new charters sealed since 1679 with the exception of 29 towns where deeds of surrender had been enrolled (these included Nottingham, Exeter, Winchester and Plymouth) and nine towns against whom judgments in quo warranto proceedings had been entered (these included London, Chester and York). 14 The confusion in many corporations after the Revolution was founded on the circumstance that there were two (or more) charters in existence, either (or any) of which might be regarded as valid. When Whigs and Tories clashed in urban local politics after the Revolution, as often as not the two sides divided on the issue of which charter most legitimately embodied the corporation's rights, liberties, and above all its procedures for choosing new officers. In Bewdley, one of the towns excepted from the restoration of charters in October 1688, the Tories favoured James IPs charter of 1685 and the Whigs an earlier charter of 1605. The Whigs claimed to have discovered technical faults in the 1685 charter, both sides entered into complex 12 Glassey, Politics and . . .Justices of the Peace, pp. 262-7; Landau, The Justices of the Peace, pp. 79-109; Linda Colley, In Defiance of Oligarchy: The Tory Party, 1714-1760 (Cambridge, 1982), pp. 247-8. 13 L. and Jeanne C. F. Scone, An Open Elite? England, 1540-1880 (Oxford, 1984), pp. 246, 272-3; A. M. Coleby, 'Hampshire and the Isle of Wight, 1649-1689: the Relationship between Central Government and the Localities' (Oxford University, D.Phil., 1985), pp. 273-4. 14 P.R.O., P.C. 2/72, pp. 749-51:17 Oct. 1688; H. A. Merewether and A. J. Stephens, The History of the Boroughs and Municipal Corporations of the United Kingdom (3 vols., 1835), III, 1836-9.

158 Britain in the First Age of Party litigation, and for some years in Anne's reign there were in effect two separate corporations in Bewdley, each claiming to be valid. The grant of a new charter in 1708 did not promote tranquillity, since both the House of Commons and the Court of Queen's Bench determined that it was void, and the issue aroused much attention outside Bewdley.15 Rather later, in George II's reign, both Scarborough and Colchester were in a state of fission over the interpretation of their respective charters.16 Quarrels over charters were not the only reasons for upheavals in the government of towns, of course. Corporations owned and administered property, the rents from which provided them with the bulk of their income, and accusations that records had not been kept, leases had been granted with partiality, and money had been misappropriated, were not uncommon in towns like Newcastle-underLyme. 17 Also, parliamentary elections in constituencies where the franchise was in certain defined classes of inhabitants might be the occasion of mass promotions to the appropriate positions, as at Okehampton for instance where 'the local Whigs had a regular machinery for manufacturing freemen'. Freemen were not executive officials concerned with routine local government, but Whig and Tory quarrels brought some officebearers into the political arena. The election of a town clerk at Oxford in 1694 produced a bitter struggle between two rival candidates. Both sides produced writs of mandamus from the King in 1696 and again in 1697; it was decided to initiate a new series of minute books if the candidate temporarily in possession of the old ones refused to give them up; a fresh election in 1697 solved nothing; litigation took place in all three common law courts, Common Pleas, King's Bench, and the Exchequer; an action was brought against the High Sheriff for arresting one of the candidates; and the matter only died away, finally, in 1701. 9 The appointment to the Recordership of Wigan gave rise to similar problems over a slightly shorter period, from 1697 to 1699, and provoked a letter from the head of the Whig interest in Lancashire, the Earl of Macclesfield, to Lord Chancellor Somers, which well illustrates both the strength of feeling that this sort of issue could arouse and, more generally, the importance attached to control of local officeholding by ambitious politicians: 15 P. Styles, 'The Corporation of Bewdley under the Later Stuarts', University of Birmingham Historical Journal, I (1947-8), 92-133; Merewether and Stephens, History of the Boroughs, III, 1579-83, 1952-3. 16 P.J. Corfield, The Impact of English Towns, \ 700-1800 (Oxford, 1982), p. 150. 17 T. Pape, The Restoration Government and the Corporation of Newcastle-under-Lyme (Manchester, 1940), pp. 30-57. 18 Holmes, British Politics, p. 314. 19 Oxford Council Acts, 1666-1701, ed. M. G. Hobson (Oxford Historical Soc., new ser. II, 1939), pp. 245-6, 263-5, 271-7, 283-7, 301; Oxford Council Acts, 1701-1752, ed. M. G. Hobson (Oxford Historical Soc., new ser. X, 1954), pp. 3-4.

Local Government 159 I must entreat your Lordship to morrow to represent to his Majesty that my appearing for Mr. Entwisle [the Whig candidate] and opposeing Kenyon [the Tory candidate] is wholly with regard to his Majesty's service . . . I doubt not but my speaking to his Majesty would have prevented his declareing for the Son of Old Kenyon who not only follows his Father's steps but was chosen by a party who professe themselves for King James . . . the consequence of this will be the worse since all men know that he was set up by Shakerley [a prominent Lancashire Tory] against whom there has been one witness of High Treason and who has spoken words of his Majesty for which he ought to be shott through the Head. Ma-cclesfield's letter concluded with unmistakable threats to make life difficult for the ministers at the centre unless they helped him to get his own way at Wigan. Notwithstanding his fulminations, George Kenyon was victorious, and he remained Recorder of Wigan into the reign of George II. The Revolution of 1688 thus did not necessarily restore to the traditional ruling elite the security and independence in their local officeholding that had been so conspicuously challenged by the Crown in the 1680s. The aspirations of ministers and the rivalries of party politicians meant that local officeholding became one of the many areas of local patronage, in which party strength produced places on the bench, deputy-lieutenancies in the militia, and administrative jobs in corporations. This did not necessarily imply the control of the localities by the centre; more often it reflected control of the localities by one group of local men, with sufficiently powerful contacts at the centre, rather than another. It was assumed that it would be the centre that would arbitrate in the end; at Oxford, and at Wigan, both sides tried to win the backing of William III himself. As long as the higher levels of local government office remained subject to the fluctuations of party politics, then local government cannot be said to have been emancipated from central influence. 3

Notwithstanding the extensive alterations among the lists of individuals who exercised local power in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, there was surprisingly little change in the procedures by which local government was actually carried on. The routine of Quarter Sessions varied little through the period, except perhaps for Hilary Quarter Sessions in January 1689 when, in view of the fact that one king had fled and the next had not been proclaimed, 20

Surrey R.O., Somers MSS. L. 22: Macclesfield to Somers, 21 May 1698. The course of the Wigan dispute may be followed in: John Rylands Library, Crawford MSS. 47/2; Lancashire R.O., DDKe 9/99, 9/131.

160 Britain in the First Age of Party some counties had no meeting. The conduct of business remained largely legal in character. Administration was still enmeshed in a procedure of presentment by juries, indictments, plaints and petitions. The use of English rather than Latin from 1733 may have made local government, as well as the law, more accessible to the mass of the population. Continuity was provided by permanent officials like the deputy sheriff, the clerk of the peace, and the town clerk, with their respective staffs. Moreover, the lower levels of local administration, though changing hands frequently, were less subject to political regulation. Constables, tithingmen, churchwardens, aleconners, pigringers, laylayers and similar officers were either elected according to traditional procedures in manorial courts and parish vestries or chosen on the principle of rotation among residents in a recognised sequence, a method which led to the appointment of a woman as an overseer of the poor in Derbyshire in 1712.22 However, although there was little abrupt change in the forms of local government at this time, there were some gradual developments; and it may be a question whether the differences in organisation and routine that can be discerned between 1680 and 1740 contributed to any process of establishing the independence of the localities from the centre. Perhaps the most significant change was simply that by 1740 many more gentlemen were entitled to act as county justices than had been the case in 1680. The numbers in the commissions of the peace had grown, especially in the 25 years after the Revolution. 23 Partly this was in response to the demands of war, since war meant more dangerous opportunities for political disaffection as well as an increased burden of administration. More significantly, perhaps, the conflicts of party in the reigns of William III and Anne had contributed to the rise. To take some random examples, there were in Somerset 52 justices in 1680 and 157 in 1739; in Monmouthshire, 28 in 1680 and 66 in 1741; in Surrey, 87 in 1680 and 345 in 1742; in the East Riding, 24 in 1680 and 78 in 1725. In a few counties, the increase was less spectacular to 1740, but then dramatic in the first commission of George Ill's reign.24 Not all these justices acted; by 1740 it was rare (though by no means absolutely 21 P. Clark, The Civic Leaders of Gloucester, 1580-1800', The Transformation of English Provincial Towns, 1600-1800, ed. P. Clark (1984), pp. 327-8. 22J. C. Cox, Three Centuries of Derbyshire Annals, as illustrated by the Records of Quarter Sessions (2 vols., 1890), II, 138. 23 Glassey, Politics and . . .Justices of the Peace, pp. 15-17; Landau, The Justices of the Peace, pp. 84-5. 24 Landau, The Justices of the Peace, pp. 367-72. Professor Landau's elimination of all locally resident peers and peers' sons from the lists, as though they were 'honorary' justices like the Privy Councillors, the assize judges, the Attorney-General, and the Solicitor-General, 'is a little odd; but this does not diminish the value of the remarkable appendix, 'The Number of Justices in the Commissions of England and Wales', here quoted.

Local Government 161 unknown) for the aristocracy and greater gentry to sit on the bench at sessions or to exercise summary jurisdiction in their homes. Active justices were often the lesser gentry or, increasingly in the late eighteenth century, clergymen.25 Notwithstanding the high proportion of inactive justices of distinguished status, Bacon's dictum quoted above, that the commission of the peace 'knits noblemen and gentlemen together', remains valid. Men of high social status could have acted if they had chosen to do so, some of them, like Walpole himself,26 occasionally did, and there were not two separate groups divided by social class with differentiated powers in local government. A steady growth in the importance of petty sessions was evident in the period after about 1680. This was the continuation of a long development of which the origins can be discerned in the reign of Queen Elizabeth; meetings of a small group of active justices identified with a particular 'division' or sub-unit of a county for the transaction of routine business can be traced in some counties to the late sixteenth century. These meetings were officially noticed in a Privy Council order of 1605.2? The third Book of Orders of January 1631, relating to the relief of the poor in times of hardship, also recommended divisional meetings of justices, and on the whole it seems likely that many counties had some institutionalised sequence of petty sessions which were more than casual, informal meetings of two or morejustices in the 1630s.28 Petty sessions did not everywhere continue during the Interregnum, and in Charles IPs reign their development was still irregular. The central government exhorted the justices to create petty sessional divisions for such purposes as the prevention of sedition in 1665 (this in a circular letter to every county from Clarendon himself), and the consideration of exemptions from the Hearth Tax in 1671;29 but they may not everywhere have done so. The Oxfordshire justices possibly organised themselves into petty sessional divisions for the first time as late as 1706, in response to a Privy Council order for the stricter supervision of Catholics, though Oxfordshire Quarter Sessions had admittedly been in the habit of referring petitions to the two or three 'next justices' in the mid-1680s, which may have reflected some 25

L. and J. C. F. Stone, An Open Elite?, pp. 50-3; P. Jenkins, The Making of a Ruling Class: the Glamorgan Gentry, 1640-1790 (Cambridge, 1983), pp. 87-91. 26 J. H. Plumb, Sir Robert Walpole: the Making of a Statesman (2nd edn., 1972), p. 46. 27 A. Hassall Smith, County and Court: Government and Politics in Norfolk, 1558-1603 (Oxford, 1974), pp. 103-6; A. Fletcher, A County Community in Peace and War: Sussex, 1600-1660 (1975), pp. 137-40; S. J. and Susan J. Watts, From Border to Middle Shire: Northumberland, 1586-1625 (Leicester, 1975), p. 142; Cox, Derbyshire Annals, I, 4-6. 28 P. Slack, 'Books of Orders: the Making of English Social Policy, 1577-1631', T.R. Hist.S., 5th ser., XXX (1980), 5; T. G. Barnes, Somerset, 1625-1640: a County's Government during the 'Personal Rule' (1961), pp. 80-5. 29 H.M.C., Kenyan MSS., p. 75; H.M.C., Le Fleming MS S., p. 83.

162 Britain in the First Age of Party rudimentary petty sessional organisation.30 The surviving minutes of petty sessions at Sevenoaks for 1681-3 suggests that more time was devoted to the suppression of religious disaffection than to anything else; as yet the Kent justices may still have thought of petty sessions as serving a particular purpose.31 However, the flexibility and efficiency of dealing with the growing weight of every kind of routine business in the subdivisions of a county without time-consuming formalities naturally commended petty sessions to the gentry. Petty sessions thrived in Restoration Devon, apparently independently of central initiatives to encourage them. Middlesex divisional meetings had become almost a monthly routine by the end of Charles II's reign, and weekly sessions were not uncommon in the 1720s.32 In Kent, petty sessions conducted, by the 1730s, a wide range of administrative business and rather less, but still some, judicial business. Attorneys attended regularly on behalf of clients; the meetings were advertised in newspapers; clerks were appointed who kept minutes of the proceedings and maintained a library of law books; petty sessions came to absorb the meetings of other bodies with closely similar membership, like the Land Tax commissioners. The justices who regularly attended petty sessions found themselves presiding over the affairs of a 'neighbourhood', an area smaller and less impersonal than a county.33 Conversely, Quarter Sessions had come by the 1730s to delegate much of its responsibility to petty sessions. It conducted less of the ordinary administration of the county. It was still at the summit of county administration, and an important date in the calendar of provincial social events; after all, the first meeting of Queen Anne's first Parliament was postponed in 1702 so that M.P.s could attend their county Quarter Sessions.34 But much of the time of Quarter Sessions was, by the 1730s, spent in validating decisions made in petty sessions and in hearing appeals.35 In conjunction with the rise in the number of justices of the peace, the growing importance of petty sessions meant that gentlemen of relatively inferior social standing, who might have felt out of place if called upon to mingle with the elite of county society amid the formality and ceremonial of assizes and Quarter Sessions, but who were prepared to act 30

Oxfordshire Justices of the Peace in the Seventeenth Century, ed. M. S. GreCton (Oxfordshire Record Society, XVI, 1934), pp. Ixxxiv-lxxxv. 31 Landau, The Justices of the Peace, pp. 214-15. 32 S. K. Roberts, Recovery and Restoration in an English County: Devon Local Administration, 1646-1670 (Exeter, 1985), pp. 186-7; E. G. Dowdell, A Hundred Years of Quarter Sessions: the Government of Middlesex from 1660 to 1760 (Cambridge, 1932), pp. 910; Sidney and Beatrice Webb, English Local Government: the Parish and the County (1906), pp 402-3. 33Landau, The Justices of the Peace, pp. 215-39. 34 Glassey, Politics and . . .Justices of the Peace, p. 29. 35 Landau, The Justices of the Peace, pp. 240 ff.

Local Government 163 as justices in their own parishes with their neighbours, now played a greater part in local government. Professor Landau, building on the terminology of E. P. Thompson with the help of her own work on the development of the role of Kent's justices as local 'problem-solvers' through the device of the 'recognizance concordantur by which disputed issues could be settled without lengthy and expensive proceedings in court, has suggested a transition from the Restoration justice as a 'patriarch', a king in miniature, 'ruling' his neighbourhood from a 'throne' on the bench at Quarter Sessions, to the Hanoverian justice as a 'patrician', a legal administrator concerned with orderly government in an atmosphere more closely approximating to that of a civil service board.36 It may be that justices of the 'patriarch' type survived longer in some other counties than in Kent, but Landau's perception of a qualitative change in the character of the average active justice is persuasive. The financing of county administration was another area of activity where long-term developments were taking place on either side of the Hanoverian Succession, developments which came to a head in 1739 with the passage of the County Rates Act.37 The degree of sophistication in the management of county rates varied from county to county in the early eighteenth century. There were normally four different standing rates, levied and assessed separately: for 'maimed soldiers', for the King's Bench and Marshalsea prisons, for the relief of poor prisoners, and for the house of correction. The first two of these provided a sort of general purpose fund which bore little relation to the purposes suggested by their names. In addition to these standing rates, there were occasional rates for such purposes as the repair of bridges or gaols, or for paying the expenses of the county's lawsuits; and there was 'vagrant money' for transporting those judged to be settled outside the county to its borders. These rates were normally collected by petty constables or churchwardens and delivered to the hundred constables, who in turn paid over the sums either to the treasurer for the rate if there was one, or to the clerk of the peace. Naturally, these complexities made for a wide variety of different administrative practices in different counties at different times. In some counties, like Shropshire, the justices invited one of their number to manage some or all of these rates. In Derbyshire, the clerk of the peace acted as treasurer until 1708, when a separate treasurer who was not a justice was appointed. Essex had one salaried treasurer for all the rates for the whole county between 1712 and 1719, but in 1719 a system of multiple treasurers revived. In Wiltshire four treasurers, two for the north and two for the south, were elected annually in the late seventeenth 36 Ibid., pp. 1-6, 359-62; E. P. Thompson, 'Patrician Society, Plebeian Culture', Journal of Social History, VII (1973-4), 388. 37 12Geo. H e . 29.

164 Britain in the First Age of Party century, and the notion of a permanent treasurer did not emerge until the 1720s. When treasurers were annually appointed amateurs, it was not uncommon for them to be called to account for negligence, as happened in Nottinghamshire in 1678. The sums involved increased during the war of the Spanish Succession as the numbers of vagrants and 'maimed soldiers' rose and the problem of poverty became temporarily acute during the agrarian and climatic crisis of 1708-10, and the tendency in most counties was towards simplification by combining the different rates under a single treasurer. The 1739 act belatedly confirmed this trend by authorising counties, at their discretion, to consolidate their rates into a single fund for all purposes. Many of them did, and the advantages in collecting and accounting for large sums, and in speeding up the making of payments for a wide variety of purposes, were soon apparent. A number of developments of a similar type could be mentioned. A further one of considerable significance for the future was that described by Sidney and Beatrice Webb, with characteristic indifference to drabness of phrase, as the growth of 'statutory authorities for special purposes'. Every student of the early Stuart period will nowadays be familiar with the emphasis placed by historians on local and private legislation in the Parliaments of James I and Charles I, and with the light that the importance of this to contemporary M.P.s throws on earlyseventeenth-century perceptions of the utility of Parliament.40 In the seventeenth century, private bills normally commissioned the justices of the peace of a county, the corporation of a town, or some other existing body like the commissioners of sewers (appointed, like the justices of the peace, by a commission under the Great Seal) to administer the special powers newly created. The first turnpikes in Charles II's reign were to be managed by county justices of the peace. However, highways run from one county into another; and in 1706, for the first time, Parliament created a body of turnpike trustees, named in the act, to administer a road from Fornhill in Bedfordshire to Stony Stratford in Buckinghamshire.41 Similar statutory authorities were called into being for a variety of local purposes. In the reigns of William III and Anne, 14 towns, beginning with Bristol in 1696 which to some extent was a model for the others, established 'corporations' to manage the poor laws. These corporations consolidated the poor rate in the parishes of a conurbation, and maintained a workhouse. London and Westminister combined to create 38

G. C. Cox, 'County Government, 1603-1714', V.C.H., Shropshire, III (1979), 1002; S. and B. Webb, The Parish and the County, pp. 507-12; W. R. Ward, 'County Government, c. 1660-1835', V.C.H., Wiltshire, V (1957), pp. 174-5. 39 H. H. Copnall, Nottinghamshire County Records: Notes and Extracts from the Nottinghamshire County Records of the 17th Century (Nottingham, 1915), p. 14. 40 C. Russell, Parliaments and English Politics, 1621-1629 (Oxford, 1979), pp. 35-6. 41 Sidney and Beatrice Webb, English Local Government: Statutory Auttwritiesfor Special Purposes (1922), pp. 158-62.

Local Government 165 a body of commissioners for cleaning the streets as early as 1662, and when this act was revived in 1691 the authority then created remained responsible for paving the metropolitan streets into the second half of the eighteenth century. As yet, such developments were limited. The rural areas did not follow the lead of the towns in creating corporations for the poor until well after 1740, and some of those established in towns were abandoned as failures. The number of acts for creating commissions for cleaning, paving and lighting urban streets, and for creating turnpike trusts, accelerated after 1748 rather than before.42 Even so, the Webbs were justified in discerning at the turn of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries the origins of a process which by the early ninteenth century had produced a mass of local government authorities embodying an elective element and a principle of'improvement' in local government. All these changes illustrate the organic development of local administration over a long period. Activity in petty sessions; the growing sophistication of local financial organisation; the emergence of turnpike trusts; the rationalisation of poor relief in towns; all reflect in general terms the complexities of an expanding society. They do not necessarily indicate the slackening grasp of central government on local affairs. It was the ministers and politicians at the centre who enlarged the numbers of persons entitled to act as justices of the peace, and who, like Clarendon in 1665, encouraged (even if he did not command) the division of counties into petty sessional divisions for the speedier and more effective translation of central government directives into action. When local pressure groups wanted to reform county finance and to create new powers by private acts, their proposals were submitted to discussion in Parliament. 'Parliament' and 'the government' are not, of course, the same thing; but the creation of new law and new administrative bodies by Parliament is, at all events, an aspect of local government. The administration of towns and counties was, if less subject to blatant interference from Whitehall than before, still open to guidance and direction from Westminster. 4

The preoccupations of local government did not alter radically in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. The relief of the poor, the establishment of settlements, provision for illegitimate children, the suppression of disorderly alehouses, the repair of bridges, the maintenance of prisons, the supervision of the assessment and collection of rates: such was the stuff of business in Quarter Sessions and petty sessions throughout the period. However, local government was never 42

Ibid., pp. 110-16, 121, 175, 241-2, 277.

166 Britain in the First Age of Party static, and at different times, the emphasis on certain areas of activity might be lesser or greater. In the early 1680s juries not infrequently presented non-attendance at church, and individuals might be charged with religious unorthodoxy. By the 1730s, this branch of the criminal law had largely withered away, though it was always capable of revival. The fixing of wages and prices in Quarter Sessions had in many places become merely the formal continuation from year to year of scales established long before and, presumably, little regarded. The justices in petty sessions seem to have taken over an ad hoc jurisdiction over cases of masters who offered excessive wages and labourers who refused to work at the authorised rate by the 1730s.4'^ The Tudor statutes against forestalling, engrossing and regrating might be dusted off in times of hardship like 1709-10, when juries in Middlesex were encouraged to present these offences; but the results were disappointing, and by the reign of George II these laws, redolent of an earlier concern to control the workings of the economy, seem to have more or less lapsed. 4 One aspect of the justices' work, both in counties and towns, which did expand in Queen Anne's reign, was the supervision of recruitment for the armed forces. Eight Recruiting Acts were passed between 1704 and 1711 which enhanced both the powers entrusted to justices of the peace and the volume of work expected from them. Any three justices might enlist 'such able-bodied men as have not any lawful calling or employments, or visible means and livelihood', and deliver them up to recruiting officers; and they might order the constables to scour the countryside for such persons and to bring them to be so enlisted. They were required to issue warrants for the transport of recruits and to hear cases of illegal quartering. The Recruiting Acts entailed a good deal of work as long as the war lasted, and a surprising number of justices found that the performance of these duties laid them open to critical scrutiny, sometimes even leading to an order for their dismissal from the commission of the peace, by the Privy Council or the Secretaries of State. When three justices at Cambridge were sacked for enlisting men so that they would offer bribes for their discharge, they were deemed to have behaved 'to the disgrace of the Commission of the Peace in which they had the honour to be'.46 Another area of the justices' activity was that relating to crime, and especially poaching. The Game Acts of 1671, 1707 and 1711, and the 'Black Act' of 1723, have been represented as measures passed by the gentry as Members of Parliament in the selfish class interests of the gentry as justices of the peace; the game laws in consequence provided an 43

Landau, The Justices of the Peace, pp. 245-8. Dowdell, A Hundred Years of Quarter Sessions, pp. 169-70. 45 R. E. Scouller, The Armies of Queen Anne (Oxford, 1966), pp. 106-17; M. Beloff, Public Order and Popular Disturbance (2nd edn., 196.3), pp. 115-28. 46 P.R.O., S.P. 44/108, f. 11: Sunderland to Lord Chancellor Cowper, 28Jan. 1709. 44

Local Government 167 instrument by which the wealthy tyrannised over their humbler neighbours. 47 Dr. P. B. Munsche, while conceding that the game laws did embody 'class legislation', has argued on the other side that the practice of trying offenders summarily rather than at Quarter Sessions had the effect of keeping punishments mild, and that there is at least as much evidence that justices were scrupulous about trying cases in which they had a personal interest as there is that justices were in the habit of vindictively punishing offenders on their own estates. He also points out that poachers could, and sometimes did, appeal successfully against summary conviction; that some justices were capable of exercising discrimination in the direction of leniency in their sentencing policy; and that the very rapid rise in the number of poaching convictions at the beginning of the nineteenth century possibly indicates that the laws inherited from the eighteenth century were less than formidable.48 More generally, it is not altogether clear that the time spent by justices of the peace on crime did increase in the early eighteenth century, except in the urban area of London. In Westminster, justices like Sir Thomas De Veil and Henry Fielding, who both operated from offices in Bow Street, devoted themselves virtually permanently to police work in the 1730s and 1740s, and they in many ways foreshadowed the stipendiary magistrates introduced in 1792. Elsewhere, the level of indictments for felonies seems to have remained lower then it had been before 1660, although until more is known about the extent of summary convictions and the prosecution of crime in petty sessions it will be difficult to arrive at certainty on the question of whether crime occupied more or less of the attention of the moderately active justice of the peace in the early eighteenth century.50 The punishment of crime is an aspect of the jurisdktional rather than the administrative work ofjustices of the peace, and any discussion of the topic may seem to be peripheral to local government. But it is worth remarking that the preservation of order was as relevant to ministers in Walpole's time as it had been at earlier periods of English history. The militia or the army might be called in to deal with serious disaffection, but the class that formed the rank and file of the militia was drawn from the class most prone to riot, and the army was not always available at short notice. There was a widespread belief in early-eighteenth-century England that respect for property was diminishing and that crime was increasing, and the experience of those who dwelt in London or on its outskirts was not likely to shake that opinion. The resolve of the justices of the peace in dealing with crime was thus a matter of real concern to the 47

E. P. Thompson, Whigs and Hunters: the Origin of the Black Act (1975). P. B. Munsche, Gentlemen and Poachers: the English Came Laws, 1671-1831 (Cambridge, 1981), pp. 77-8, 93-102, 159-64. 49 F. Milton, The English Magistracy (1967), pp. 24-7. 50 J. A. Sharpe, Crime in Early Modem England, 1550-1750 (1984), pp. 183-7. 48

168 Britain in the First Age of Party central government. The localities could not be left entirely to their own devices if crime, and its close relations riot and sedition, were to be the result. 5

Some of the traditional agencies by which the central government had once controlled the provinces were by 1680 extinct, like Star Chamber and the Council in the North. But others were less moribund than might be supposed. Professor Cockburn has argued that the assize judges, who had once performed or at least supervised a variety of administrative tasks when riding their circuits, ceased to do so after 1660; but he also shows that the judges were still expected to act as a channel of communication by which the centre transmitted policy decisions and instructions to the justices of the peace until the Hanoverian Succession and beyond.51 The flow of information was not only one way; the judges were intelligence officers as well as government messengers and public relations men. Sir Thomas Rokeby returned from his circuits in the 1690s with his notebook stuffed with information about the political character and reliability of the local officeholders he had met. From Shrewsbury in 1692, for example, he noted that Rowland Hunt and Mr. Corbet were good justices, but the sheriff, Thomas Wingfield, was a Tory, like most of the gentry, and Sir John Corbet, though firm to the government, was 'not exact in his morals'.52 In one idiosyncratic county, Lancashire, assizes gave an opportunity, which the routine of Quarter Sessions (in Lancashire, meeting at five different centres) did not provide, for all thejustices in the county to come together at once; and from 1578 to 1798 the 'sheriffs table' at Lancaster assizes was an administrative institution of considerable importance.53 The Privy Council at the end of the seventeenth century had become a somewhat unwieldy body with an enlarged membership and responsibilities that diminished progressively after the Cabinet had developed in the early 1690s. The Privy Council still issued proclamations, but some of these cannot be said to have contributed materially to the vitality of local government. Queen Anne's proclamations against vice and profanity were regularly transmitted to the justices of the peace, and no doubt as regularly formed the basis of many charges to the grand jury at Quarter Sessions, but their real impact 51 J. S. Cockburn, A History of English Assizes, 1558-1714 (Cambridge, 1972), pp. 1867,245-61. 52 The Diary of Mr Justice Rokeby (privately printed, 1887), p. 22. 53 Proceedings of the Lancashire Justices of the Peace at the Sheriffs Table during Assizes Week, 1578-1694, ed. B. W. Quintrell (Record Society of Lancashire and Cheshire, CXXI, 1981), 3-52.

Local Government 169 can be measured by the incredulous response of the townspeople of Deal to their newly sworn Mayor, who evidently conceived that his mission in office was to implement the proclamation against excessive drinking, lewdness, and playing cards or dice on Sunday, issued in February 1703. It was widely assumed in Deal that the Mayor had 'gone beside his senses', and he was mercilessly ridiculed to the point where he began to fear for his health.54 On the other hand, the Privy Council was not wholly without powers to direct the local agents of government, even in the middle of the eighteenth century. Its orders to lords-lieutenant (for transmission to the militia) and to custodes rotulorum (for transmission to the justices of the peace) were meant to be obeyed, especially when they concerned such matters as emergency regulations at times of crisis, like the attempt to assassinate William III in 1696 or the Jacobite rebellions in 1715 and 1745. In more normal years, the Council might issue orders about the export of wool, about highwaymen, about the confiscation of firearms from suspected persons, about the clipping of coins, about corn shortages, or indeed about almost any aspect of local government. It was not unusual for justices to be summoned to London to explain their mistakes or their negligence, and even to face prosecution by the Attorney-General on the Council's instructions. When some Cheshire gentlemen queried the validity of a Council order to seize disaffected persons in 1715 they were brusquely told that the King in Council had always had powers to issue such orders and that the Cheshire justices were to carry out instructions without troubling themselves about habeas corpus.55 The Lords Justices and Regency Councils appointed in the absences abroad of William III and George I were similarly ready to correspond with, and sometimes to discipline, local officials. William Ill's Lord Justices issued instructions and circular letters on matters as diverse as 'lewd women who are nightwalkers' and a riot of nailers in the Midlands, and they summoned justices to attend from as far away as Westmorland to receive a rebuke for obstructing enlistment. 6 George I's Regency Council exercised an equally wide range of duties, including: a peremptory demand for explanations from an Oxford justice who had refused to take an information about an alleged assault; an investigation of the smuggling activities of a Hampshire justice; directions to the justices near Islington on dealing with the disorders of the calico printers at Spitalfields; and the provision of assistance for Sir Isaac Newton, who

54 P.R.O., P.C. 2/79, p. 327: proclamation against vice of 25 Feb. 1703, which begins by regretting that the last such proclamation had not been observed; Sidney and Beatrice Webb, English Local Government: the Manor and the Borough (2 vols., 1908), I, 312-15. 55 P.R.O., S.P. 44/118, unpaginated: Townshend to Earl of Cholmondeley, 6 Oct. 1715 (placed out of chronological sequence). 56 C.S.P.Dom., 1696, p. 282; C.S.P.Dom., 1697, pp. 248, 318.

170 Britain in the First Age of Party had discovered some manufacturers of counterfeit coin.37 The Secretaries of State represented another means by which the central government continued to supervise the conduct of local government. Though more or less continuous, the activity of Secretaries of State in this respect naturally intensified in times of emergency. For example, the letter-books of Townshend and Stanhope for 1714-15 illustrate how they received information from justices in all parts of the country about Jacobite disorders and manifestations of sedition at the time of the King's coronation and thereafter. It was to Stanhope that fell the doubtful pleasure of dealing with the most spectacular case of seditious words, the information of one Edward Mugleston, forwarded by Thomas Hartop, a Leicestershire justice. Mugleston had deposed that Mr. Piddock, an attorney, had said that King George has no more right to the Crowne than my Arse, that King George has the pox and had pox'd the Court and that the Court had pox'd the prince and princess [of Wales] and that they would pox the Nation . . . that the prince beshitt himself and the princess every night, and further . . . that the prince whored so much that the princess took him to bed so soon as he had dined, that when his Naile were pared he might goe where he pleased

with much more in the same vein. The Secretaries of State generally responded to such intelligence by commending the zeal of the magistrates and approving of the measures that had been taken, which was encouraging but which did not give a positive lead. But they could be severe in rebuking negligence. Townshend's letters to Arthur Charlett, the Vice-Chancellor of Oxford University, and to the Mayor of Oxford, in June 1715, are couched in quite extraordinarily vigorous terms. Stanhope could be as rough with a negligent justice as Townshend, and his letter to Sir Henry Gough of Staffordshire, charging him with conduct inconsistent with the duty of his post and hoping, with evident insincerity, that he could justify himself, was a masterpiece of veiled menace. In the midst of these excitements, routine business continued; Townshend found time to forward a report from four Middlesex justices on an outbreak of cattle disease to the Treasury, and Stanhope gave directions for the prosecution of Mr. Hawkes, a justice, for allowing bail to a highwayman.^ 8 Justices of the peace and other local officials were thus still subject to 57

P.R.O., S.P. 44/278, p. 181: Craggs to Jennings, 17 Oct. 1719; S.P. 44/280, unpagmated: minutes, 15 Oct. 1719; S.P. 44/283, p. 8: minutes, 23 June 1720; S.P. 44/ 284, unpaginated: minutes, 25 Oct. 1720. 58 P.R.O., S.P. 44/116, Townshend's letter book, unpaginated, passim, but especially: Townshend to Charlett, 3 June, 6 June, 14 June 1715; Townshend to Mayor of Oxford, 3 June 1715; Townshend to Lords of the Treasury, I Nov. 1714; S.P. 44/117, Stanhope's letter book, passim, but especially p. 183: Stanhope to Thomas Hartop, 25 June 1715; p. 204: Pringle to the Clerk of Assize for Derbyshire, 19 July 1715; p. 227: Stanhope to Gough, 19 Aug. 1715; p. 380: Stanhope to Attorney-General [NortheyJ, 21 Jan. 1716.

Local Government 171 the disciplines of the centre in the early Hanoverian period, and these disciplines were only slowly relaxed in the 1720s and 1730s. Other agencies of government- the customs, the post-office, the armed forces — had established a presence in the localities, and helped to maintain and strengthen the links between Whitehall and the localities in their different ways in the early eighteenth century. The concepts of gentry 'autonomy' in the government of the counties, and of an oligarchical independence in the government of the towns, are firmly entrenched, but perhaps they need modification in certain respects. Those charged with the duties of local government not infrequently sought advice and direction from the centre. Just as the justices of the 1670s needed information from the Privy Council on which classes of Catholics should be required to take the oaths, so did the justices of the 1780s ask for help on such matters as the transport of convicted prisoners/ Complete independence from the centre seems not even to have been desired, let alone achieved. Once the insensitive 'centralisation' of early Stuart government had been successfully rejected, the localities became amenable to the gentler discipline of'central pressure'. It would be hard to deny that in many ways the authority of the gentry as rulers of the countryside, and of the urban oligarchies as rulers of the towns, was greater than ever before; but it may be doubted whether their respective powers ever extended to an unfettered dominion. 59 C.S.P.Dom., 1679-80, p. 35; E. Moir, Local Government in Gloucestershire, 17751800: a Study of the Justices of the Peace (Bristol and Gloucestershire Archaeological Society, VIII, 1969), 146-7. 60G. C. F. Forstcr, 'Government in Provincial England under the Later Stuarts', T.R.Hist.S., 5th ser., XXXIII (1983), 48; C. Holmes, Seventeenth Century Lincolnshire (Lincoln, 1980), pp. 254-63.

Bibliographical Note The older books on local government in the early modern period are for the most part lugubrious in appearance and austere in style. However, Sidney and Beatrice Webb, English Local Government from the Revolution to the Municipal Corporations Act (9 vols., 1906-29, 2nd edn. in 11 vols. with new introductions, 1963) is still fundamental. The fourth volume, Statutory Authorities for Special Purposes, contains in Chapter V, The Old Principles', an admirable introduction to the authors' views on the period covered here. J. Redlich and F. W. Hirst, The History of Local Government in England, being a re-issue of Book I of Local Government in England, ed. B. Keith-Lucas (2nd edn.," 1970), first published in 1903,

172

Britain in the First Age of Party

also contains some insights. The one outstanding modern study of a local government institution is Norma Landau, The Justices of the Peace, 16791760 (1984). J. R. Western, The English Militia in the Eighteenth Century (1965) and L. K. J. Glassey, Politics and the Appointment of Justices of the Peace (Oxford, 1979) concentrate on their respective subjects as issues in national politics, rather than on local government. Among books on individual areas, the only full-length study that stands comparison with T. G. Barnes on Somerset or A. Hassall Smith on Norfolk for earlier periods is P. Jenkins, The Making of a Ruling Class: the Glamorgan Gentry, 1640-1790 (Cambridge, 1983). C. Holmes, Seventeenth Century Lincolnshire (Lincoln, 1980) devotes much less space to the period after the Restoration than to the period from 1603 to 1660. W. A. Speck, 'Brackley: a study in the Growth of Oligarchy', Midland History, III (1975), J. T. Evans, Seventeenth Century Norwich (Oxford, 1979), andG. S. De Krey, A Fractured Society: the Politics of London in the First Age of Party, 1688-1715 (Oxford, 1985), are municipal studies in which the emphasis is on local politics. More relevant to the theme of administration are a number of essays, notably G. C. F. Forster, 'Government in Provincial England under the Later Stuarts', T.R.Hist.S., 5th ser., XXXIII (1983); J. S. Cockburn, The North Riding Justices, 1690-1750', Yorkshire Archaeological Journal, XLI (1965); G. C. F. Forster, The East Riding Justices of the Peace in the Seventeenth Century (East Yorkshire Local History Society Pamphlet Series, XXX, 1973); and D. P. Carter, 'The Lancashire Militia, 1660-1688', Transactions ofthe Historic Soc. of Lancashire and Cheshire, CXXXII (1983). Several more essays are to be quarried from the mines of the Victoria County History: those on county government by B. E. Harris in V.C.H., Cheshire, II (1979), G. C. Cox and D. C. Baugh in V.C.H., Shropshire, III (1979) and W. R. Ward in V.C.H., Wiltshire, V (1957), and those on Chester by J. S. Morrill in V.C.H., Cheshire, II (1979), on Oxford by A. Crossley in V.C.H., Oxfordshire, IV (1979), on Salisbury by M. E. Ransome in V.C.H., Wiltshire, VI (1962), on Warwick by R. W. Dunning in V.C.H., Warwickshire, VIII (1969), on York by G. C. F. Forster, K. J. Allison and P. M. Tillott in V.C.H., Yorkshire: the City of York (1961) and on Hull by G. C. F. Forster, J. E. Williams and J. A. Woods in V.C.H., Yorkshire East Riding, I (1969), are especially helpful. It is to be hoped that the unpublished dissertations by R. G. Pickavance (on towns during the early 1680s), A. M. Coleby (on Hampshire and the Isle of Wight, 1649-1689) andj. M. Roscnhcim (on Norfolk, 1660-1720) will become available to a wider public. Finally, A. Murdoch, The People Above: Politics and Administration in Mid-Eighteenth Century Scotland (Edinburgh, 1980) and A. E. Whetstone, Scottish County Government in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries (Edinburgh, 1981), have illuminated the attempts to operate a hybrid Anglo-Scottish system of local government north of the border after 1707.

9 Party in a Civic Context: London from the Exclusion Crisis to the Fall ofWalpole Henry Horwitz 1967 was surely a vintage year in the scholarship of Augustan England with the appearance of Peter Dickson's The Financial Revolution in England, Geoffrey Holmes's British Politics in the Age of Anne, and Sir John Plumb's The Growth of Political Stability in England, 1675-1725. Moreover, each of these works offered new insights into the history of the 'City', both in the seventeenth century sense of the civic corporation and in the modern sense of the metropolitan financial centre.1 Dickson's contribution to our knowledge of Augustan London derives, above all, from his identification of the holders of the funded longterm national debt. Dickson demonstrates that the English capital mobilized by the government came 'mostly from London and its environs', that within the metropolis the majority of larger individual investors were merchants and financiers, and that of this element many, especially in William's and Anne's reigns, were of recent foreign origin or were self-made men. 2 For Holmes, it is the new prominence of this London-based 'monied interest' that made the partisan conflict of Whig and Tory of Anne's reign a 'clash of interests' as well as a contest over principle and a competition for power. The corporation also figures in his work as a highly important arena of partisan contention. Parliamentary elections in the City, the largest urban constituency of the realm, were of great concern to the ministers and the party leaders, and even municipal contests became 'major events' which were 'carefully watched by the political pundits between general elections for signs of a shift in public opinion'. Moreover, in subsequent studies Holmes has emphasized the connection between London's 'monied interest' and its well-entrenched Dissenting community — an association which heightened Tory distaste for the Financial Revolution and helps to explain the Sacheverell riots.3 1

For the classic formulation of this distinction, see Lucy Sutherland, 'The City of London in Eighteenth-Century Polities', Essays Presented to Sir Lewis Namier, ed. R. Pares and A. J. P. Taylor (1956), pp. 49-74; also idem, 'The East India Company in Eighteenth Century Polities', Ec.H.R., 1st sen, XVII (1947), 15-26. - P. G. M. Dickson, The Financial Revolution in England (1967), pp. 300, 302, 265. 3 Holmes, British Politics, pp. 182, 314-15; idem, Religion and Party in Late Stuart England (1975), and 'The Sacheverell Riots: The Crowd and the Church in Early Eighteenth Century London'. Past and Present, No. 72 (1976), 55-85; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 181-215, 217-47.

174 Britain in the First Age of Party Plumb's Ford Lectures deal with London only in passing, but his overall interpretation of party development from later Stuart times to Hanoverian days has been most suggestive. For Sir John, the corporation was 'the bugbear of the Stuarts'. In turn, despite the close relations between the central government and the metropolitan financial community under the early Hanoverians, Sir Robert Walpole and the Whig ministerialists proved unable to control the corporation. Though Walpole 'had the support of financiers and bankers', he failed to attract the backing 'of the bulk of the trading merchants' and of'the craftsmen and journeymen'. In broad terms, the lectures can be read as suggesting that Walpole's lack of success with London's citizenry reflected the Whigs' abandonment of their one-time 'radical constitutional principles'. 1694, in Sir John's view, is 'one of the great watersheds in the history of party'; with the Junto's entry into power at Whitehall and the founding of the Bank of England, the Whigs increasingly 'became preoccupied with the processes rather than the principles of government' and 'associated in the public mind with the financial interests of the City'. Subsequently, the corporation slipped through the Whigs' grasp to remain 'the one factor in England important enough to create strain in the eighteenth-century political order'.4 As Sir John reflected upon the persisting tensions after the Glorious Revolution between the corporation and the ministry, so he called for further study of relations between London and the central government. That call has been answered by a number of younger scholars. Since 1967, two well-researched dissertations on City politics in the later years of Charles II's reign have been submitted, Nicholas Rogers has published a series of revealing articles on metropolitan politics under the first two Hanoverians, and Gary De Krey has completed an impressive monograph covering the reigns of William and Anne.5 Their work, and other recent scholarship, makes it possible to offer now an account of City politics from the Exclusion Crisis to the fall of Walpole encompassing (1) the recurrent controversies over civic governance, (2) the shifting stances of Whigs and Tories in their competition for control of the corporation, and (3) the impact of the 'Financial Revolution' upon City politics and upon the corporation's place in the national polity.6 A necessary preliminary to a survey of City politics in this era is a 4

J. H. Plumb, The Growth of Political Stability in England, 1675-1725 (1967), pp. 184, 185, 134, 135, 138, 185. See also G. Holmes, The Achievement of Stability: The Social Context of Politics from 1680s to the Age of Walpole', The Whig Ascendancy, ed. J. Cannon (1981), pp. 1-22; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 249-75. 5 Individual studies are cited in the notes following. De Krey is now at work on Restoration London. 6Earlier versions of this essay were read by Eveline Cruickshanks, Andrew Federer, Gary De Krey and Nicholas Rogers, and some of their comments and suggestions are reflected in the present version.

Party in a Civic Context: London

175

sketch of London's governance. Two features stand out. First, amidst the congeries of local governmental bodies which regulated the expanding populace of the metropolis (perhaps 400,000 in 1650, 575,000 in 1700, and 675,000 in 1750), the corporation of London was much the most important. The corporation's bounds — the walled city and immediately adjacent areas to the west, north, and east - encompassed the business centre of the metropolis and included a population of at least 150,000 on the eve of the Civil War. Then, too, the corporation possessed a far greater measure of autonomy and exercised a far wider range of powers over those within its jurisdiction than did the other local administrative entities of the metropolis - the bailiffs of the parliamentary borough of Southwark, the Court of Burgesses of the City of Westminster, and theJ.P.'s of Surrey and Middlesex (along with the vestries of the individual 'out-parishes'). Only in military matters did the Crown retain a measure of direct control within the corporation through its powers of appointment and removal of the members of the London commission of the lieutenancy and the officers of its trained bands. The second feature of London's governance requiring emphasis is the complex mix of oligarchical and participatory elements in the corporation's 'constitution'. The leading civic officials were the Lord Mayor and his fellow members of the Court of Aldermen; together, they functioned as the corporation's executive. The 26 aldermen, who were required to have a minimum of £10,000 in property (after 1710, £15,000) to qualify for the position and who served for life, were chosen from the individual wards by a combination of election and selection. Upon a vacancy, the initial choice lay with the voters of the particular ward, chiefly the resident freemen householders but also, de facto until 1692, non-citizen householders. Before 1711, the ward electorate would return four nominations consisting of two aldermen (each seeking a more prestigious ward) and two commoners; the Court of Aldermen made the final choice, and it also possessed the power to reject all four nominees and to require the ward to submit new names. In somewhat analogous fashion, a Lord Mayor was chosen annually by the Court of Aldermen each September from among those aldermen who had yet to fill that 7

The sketch of London governance is derived from G. S. De Krey, A Fractured Society: The Politics of London in the First Age of Party, 1688-1715 (Oxford, 1985), pp. 912, and the works cited there. The population estimates are derived from R. Finlay, Population and the Metropolis (Cambridge, 1981), pp. 7, 51, 60, 155-7; N. G. BrettJames, The Growth of Stuart London (1935), pp. 503 ff; P. Jones and A. Judges, 'London Population in the Late Seventeenth Century', Ec.H.R., 1st ser., VI (1935-6), 45-63. R. Finley and B. Shearer, 'Population Growth and Suburban Expansion", London, 15001700, ed. A. L. Beier and R. Finlay (1986), pp. 42 and 49, suggest - on the basis of analysis of parish registers - considerably lower totals for both the City and the metropolis, but they too conclude that the City's population was falling, both in absolute numbers and in proportion to the metropolis as a whole.

176 Britain in the First Age of Party dignity. First, the voters in Common Hall would indicate their preferences from among the two or more aldermen standing; then, the Court could pick either of the two top vote-getters. Usually, it chose the senior of the two. Common Hall was a city-wide electoral assembly composed of the liverymen of those 55 (later 61) City companies which included a select body of liveried members besides a larger number of mere freemen. Under the later Stuarts and the early Hanoverians, the liverymen were a rather larger proportion of the citizenry than they had been under the early Stuarts. In the 1640s, the liverymen of the existing companies numbered some 4,000 out of perhaps as many as 30,000 freemen. But by the later seventeenth century, the total of liverymen had expanded to about 8,000 while the number of freemen had declined to 20,000 or so of a total City population of about 125,000 by the 1690s. Thus, during the Exclusion controversy, the electorate of Common Hall included at least 35 per cent of the citizenry, and by the 1720s over half the still declining body of freemen were liverymen.8 Besides voting for mayoral candidates, Common Hall voted each June for the City's two sheriffs (who were also the sheriffs of Middlesex); however, the Lord Mayor had long claimed and frequently exercised the prerogative of making a binding nomination to one of the two shrievalties. Thus, only in choosing the City's four representatives to the House of Commons was the vote of the liverymen decisive. Direct election was also the way in which the 234 ward representatives were chosen each December to serve in Common Council, the corporation's legislature. But the aldermen, too, were members of Common Council, and they and the mayor claimed and often exerted a considerable sway over that body. As the individual aldermen presided over ward elections, so the Court of Aldermen adjudged disputed results. Once a new Common Council was elected, the mayor had the sole power to convene and to close its meetings, the Court of Aldermen exercised a right of prior review over its agenda, and when the Common Council divided the aldermen voted as a separate group and at times claimed that no Common Council act was valid unless a majority of the aldermen voting had supported it (the 'negative voice' or veto). Given the mixture of oligarchical and participatory features in the corporation's polity, there was ample scope for disagreements. Then, too, the Court of Aldermen's use of its regulatory and fiscal authority could provide fuel for conflict between the wealthy upper crust from whom the aldermen were selected and the body of the freemen. Yet, it is 8

V. Pearl, London and the Outbreak of the Puritan Revolution (Oxford, 1961), p. 50; idem, 'Change and Stability in Seventeenth Century London', London Journal, V (1979), 13; De Krey, Fractured Society, pp. 40-1; I. Doolittle, 'Walpole's City Elections Act (1725)', E.H.R., XCVII (1982), 515, 520-1.

Party in a Civic Context: London

177

no accident that the first major 'constitutional' crisis within the corporation during the seventeenth century blew up on the eve of the Civil War and that the renewal of contention over civic governance after 1660 was closely linked to national political developments. In 1641-42, many of the questions of corporate governance that would be controverted during the succeeding century were raised - above all, aldermanic control over Common Council. As Pym and his supporters at Westminster exalted the standing of the Commons by stressing the lower House's representative character, so Pym's allies in London adopted a populist posture in opposition to an aldermanic bench dominated by conservatives. After Charles I's flight from his capital, the powers of the mayor and aldermen were drastically restricted. But, subsequently, those in control in Westminster and at Guildhall found their populist rhetoric turned against them, and during the later 1640s and the early 1650s London radicals cried up the authority of Common Hall and agitated for the admission to Common Hall of all London householders.9 The City's 'ancient constitution' was restored in 1660, but divisions among the citizenry - economic, religious, and political - persisted, while problems of corporate finance were exacerbated by the Fire. From at least 1667 onwards, political tensions were on the rise within the corporation, and during the Earl of Danby's ministry disputes over aldermanic authority began to be linked once more to opposition to the royal Court. In 1674, the mayor's right to nominate one of the sheriffs was challenged, a bill was proposed in Common Council for more frequent meetings, and the aldermanic veto was challenged over a Common Council bill to compel aldermen to reside within the rebuilt City.10 None of these issues was pressed home at this stage, with the dispute over the aldermanic veto remitted to counsel in 1675. But in June 1676 opposition to Danby and to mayoral authority intersected when Sir Joseph Sheldon (nephew of the Archbishop of Canterbury) squelched an attempt by the Duke of Buckingham's friends in the City, with common councilman Francis Jenks in the van, to use a meeting of Common Hall as a launching pad for a campaign to have the Cavalier Parliament dissolved and new elections held. Baulked by the mayor, Jenks and his supporters responded by asserting that Common Hall stood 'instead of the whole body of the freemen', that it was 'the great authority and power in our 9 Pearl, London, pp. 107-59; J. Farnell, 'The Usurpation of Honest London Householders: Barebone's Parliament', E.H.R., LXXXII (1967), 33, 36-8; M. James, Social Problems and Policies during the Puritan Revolution, 1640-1660 (1930), pp. 229-40. 1(1 Corporation of London R."o., Common Council Journal 48, ff. 20, 24, 90-1, 122; R. R. Sharpe, London and the Kingdom (3 vols., 1894), II, 448-55. A glimpse of the religio-political divisions among the aldermen in the early 1670s is afforded by a 'Character of the Lord Mayor of London, and the whole Court of Aldermen' presented to Charles II and printed in The Gentleman's Magazine, XXXIX (1769), 515-17.

178 Britain in the First Age of Party City', and that to 'confine the greater [Common Hall] to do nothing but what the lesser [the mayor] pleases, were to turn the government of the City topsy turvy'.11 Although Jenks found himself summoned before the Privy Council for his audacity, this did not suffice to silence rising City opposition to royal measures. Among Londoners' complaints was the growth of French trade at English expense - a theme sounded in Jenks' remarks at Common Hall and reiterated by Common Council later in 1676. Also of concern to those few familiar with City finances, especially the Chamberlain Sir Thomas Player (with whom Jenks was connected), was the corporation's mounting debt. Player, increasingly perturbed by the Crown's unwillingness to lend assistance to the corporation, was now more and more consorting with leading figures among the parliamentary opposition, including the Earl of Shaftesbury; coincidentally, perhaps, Shaftesbury himself took up residence within the City in late 1676.12 In turn, when the disclosure of the Popish Plot in the late summer of 1678 triggered efforts in Parliament to exclude James, Duke of York, from the succession to the throne, the connections between civic and national politics tightened. The Exclusionists' (Whig) Green Ribbon Club met at the King's Head Tavern at the corner of Chancery Lane (a convenient rendezvous for citizens and M.P.s), while Shaftesbury became a liveryman of the Skinners Company in early 1681 as part of his efforts to mobilize the prestige of the City on behalf of Exclusion. 13 Throughout'the Exclusion controversy, the Whigs were in a distinct minority in the Court of Aldermen. But thanks in part to strong backing from Dissenters, the Whigs secured the advantage in Common Council and in Common Hall between 1679 and 1681. In May 1679, November 1680, January 1681, and May 1681, Whig petitions to promote Exclusion were approved in Common Council. Common Hall returned Whig sheriffs in 1680 and 1681, and four Whigs (Player, Sir Robert Clayton, William Love, and Thomas Pilkington) were elected to each of the three Exclusion Parliaments. Moreover, upon the re-election of the City M.P.s in February 1681 Common Hall thanked them for their past efforts both to preserve the kingdom from Popery and to relieve the 11 K. D. H. Haley, The First Earl of Shaftesbury (Oxford, 1975), pp. 409-10; C.S.P. Dom., 1676-7, pp., 255, 256. 12 Haley, Shaftesbury, pp. 411-12; D. F. Allen, 'The Crown and the Corporation of London in the Exclusion Crisis, 1678-1681' (Cambridge University, Ph.D., 1977), pp. 62-71. 13 Haley, Shaftesbury, pp. 498-99, 641. The following account of City politics between the later 1670s and 1688 has been much influenced by my reading of Allen, 'The Crown and the Corporation', and A. G. Smith, 'London and the Crown, 16811685' (Wisconsin University, Ph.D., 1967). I am grateful to Dr. Allen and Professor Smith for allowing me to draw upon their unpublished work.

Party in a Civic Context: London

179

Dissenters from the burdens of the Clarendon Code. Despite the anti-Exclusionist (Tory) majority among the aldermen, it is noteworthy they made no determined attempt during these years to apply the aldcrmanic veto against Common Council measures. Moreover, the Tory majority adhered to the custom of selecting the senior alderman below the chair for the mayoralty in September 1679 and again in September 1680 with the result that two committed Exclusionists, first Clayton and after him Sir Patience Ward, presided over the City's affairs in 1680 and 1681. Correspondingly, Clayton, though an outspoken supporter of Exclusion in St. Stephen's Chapel, steered a relatively circumspect course at Guildhall, perhaps mindful of the corporation's ultimate dependence upon the Crown. It was only then, after the royal Court's abortive attempt to bring Shaftesbury to trial in London in the autumn of 1681, that questions of civic governance became inextricably intertwined with national politics. The crisis came in June 1682 when Lord Mayor Sir John Moore, prompted by Charles II's ministers, designated the Tory Dudley North as his nominee for sheriff in a move designed to prevent Whig sheriffs from continuing to return handpicked juries in London and Middlesex. In response, London Whigs reasserted Common Hall's authority over the Lord Mayor and the resultant clashes over North's nomination at meetings of Common Hall in the summer and autumn of 1682 posed perhaps the most serious threats to public order within the City during the Exclusion controversy. However, the lieutenancy, purged of most Whigs by the Court the previous year, mobilized the trained bands and armed violence was averted. 14 Even so, the corporation was to pay dearly for the conduct of the Whig sheriffs and for Common Hall's Whig bias. Since the Restoration, the Crown had kept a watchful eye upon the corporation, not least because of the sizeable Dissenting presence in London. In 1661, and again the next year, Charles II had directed the mayor and aldermen to see to it that well-affected citizens were chosen as common councilmen; otherwise, he indicated, he might have to make alterations in the elections.15 In subsequent years, the religious tests of the Corporation Act and the Test Act were intermittently enforced, and during the Exclusion controversy the aldermen were again enjoined to implement them. It was at Whitehall's behest that the Court of Aldermen imposed the tests upon the Common Council chosen in December 1679; at least nine common councilmen refused to conform and so were excluded from the meeting of January 1680 at which a petition for the sitting of Parliament was 14

Smith, 'London and the Crown', p. 195; Allen, 'The Crown and the Corporation', pp. 77-8. See also D. Allen, The Role of the London Trained Bands in the Exclusion Crisis, 1678-1681', E.H.R., LXXXVII (1972), 287-303. 15 C.S.P. Dom., 1661-2, pp. 179, 594-5.

180

Britain in the First Age of Party

narrowly defeated by 101 to 94 (with 15 aldermen against and only six in favour). 16 Opposition attempts from the mid-1670s onwards to use Common Hall and Common Council as means of publicizing their views and giving a lead to the rest of the kingdom first angered and then alarmed the King and his ministers. In their view, the City's liberties were 'but a private capacity' limited to municipal matters. As Lord Chancellor Nottingham put it, in dismissing a petition of May 1681 from Common Council calling for a new Parliament, 'you are not the Common Council of the Nation'. 17 Withal, there is no evidence of a formed design against the corporation's privileges until the Crown's attempt to indict Shaftesbury was frustrated in November 1681 by a jury carefully selected for that purpose by the Whig sheriffs. The upshot was the initiation of quo wananto proceedings against the corporation, and it was under the threat of forfeiture of the City's charter that the clash over the choice of North was played out in 1682. Yet even after the Crown won a judgement in King's Bench in June 1683, and notwithstanding Whig losses in the elections to Common Council of December 1682, a majority of the aldermen and common councilmen eventually rejected the King's offer of a revised charter which would have included a royal veto over the choice of the City's principal officers. Instead, they chose to let the forfeiture go forward while preserving the corporation's right of appeal to a more favourable conjuncture. The effects of the corporation's loss of its charter were traumatic. The City's financial plight was aggravated while corporate governance was really at the Crown's discretion. Not only were the aldermen appointed by the Crown between 1683 and 1688, but also Common Council ceased to act. Then, too, the livery companies were compelled to accept new charters giving the Crown a veto over the choice of their officials. Furthermore, limits were imposed upon the size of the lesser companies, and sizeable numbers of Whigs and Dissenters were removed from the rolls of both greater and lesser companies. Then in 1686-87, James II, in his bid for Dissenting support for repeal of the tests, purged Tory aldermen and liverymen whose commitment to the Church of England's supremacy was more deep-seated than their devotion to monarchical authority. Thus, while Charles's attack on civic liberties may well have been motivated chiefly by a concern to assure loyalist control over the administration of justice in London and to strengthen aldermanic authority against popular and potentially disloyal elements, James 16

Corporation of London R.O., Journal 49, f. 90. I owe this reference to Gary De Krey. 17 R. North, Examen (1740), p. 595; The Answers Commanded by His Majesty to be given . . . upon several addresses (1681) printed inj. Ralph, The History of England (2 vols., 1744), I, 591.

Party in a Civic Context: London 181 sought to use the Crown's power to further his campaign to secure a compliant Parliament,18 Despite James's restoration of the City's charter in October 1688, the Glorious Revolution produced renewed controversy over City governance, with Whig-Tory differences once more to the fore.19 The London Whigs were the immediate beneficiaries of James's ouster, gaining majorities in a series of aldermanic and Common Council elections held in the months after William's arrival. Thus, one of the Whig concerns in 1689-90 was to maintain their new ascendency on the aldermanic bench. But the leading City Whigs, most of them veterans of the struggle for Exclusion, were also bent upon revising the City's constitution in a populist fashion. The draft measure the Whigdominated Common Council prepared in March 1690 for submission to Parliament would have given the electorate in the wards and in Common Hall the final say in the choice of the mayor, aldermen, and sheriffs, and the bill also would have ended the Court of Aldermen's control over the Common Council. Had this bill, or an earlier and somewhat less sweeping version, been laid before the Convention Parliament, it might have been adopted. However, the general election of March 1690 had produced a swing against the Whigs, and in the City Common Hall had returned four supporters of the established Church. Hence, the Common Council's bill was opposed in the Commons by the City's M.P.s, the Tories substituted a measure to restore the former charter, and it was the Tories' measure which was enacted in May 1690. Yet, the Tories' victory was a flawed one for in mandating new elections in London they failed to include language clearly requiring the sitting aldermen to submit themselves anew to their wards. So the Whigs were able to retain their majority on the aldermanic bench, even though the special Common Council elections of June 1690 went against them. As the 1690 act fell short in effect of its framers' intent, so by merely restoring the old charter it left open all those questions of civic governance that had been controverted between 1640 and 1688. Yet at least in retrospect, the defeat of the Whig proposals for constitutional reform marks a major turning point in the City's political history. In pressing for constitutional revisions in 1690, the City Whig leaders had taken a stand in line with their Exclusionist pasts and consonant with populist aspirations voiced in earlier decades as well. But from 1690 18 The most recent reassessment of Charles II's measures is J. Miller, 'The Crown and the Borough Charters in the Reign of Charles II', E.H.R., C (1985), especially 745, 83-4. 19 The following account of City politics between 1689 and 1714 is derived from De Krey, Fractured Society, unless otherwise noted. See also idem, 'Political Radicalism in London after the Glorious Revolution', Journal of Modem History, LV (1983), 585-617.

182 Britain in the First Age of Party onwards, the greater part of the London Whig leaders began to retreat from populist positions and to defend mayoral and aldermanic prerogatives. In turn, the political ground that these Whigs abandoned was at first occupied only by party dissidents, but gradually the Tories began to make forays into this territory and by the second half of Anne's reign they emerged as the advocates of the Common Council's authority and of the voters' rights. The shifting partisan stances on questions of City governance between the early years of William's reign and the latter years of Anne's are evident in corporate acts of these years. In 1692, the Whigs secured a Common Council act to implement an allegedly traditional rule against non-freeman householders participating in ward elections; had this measure been systematically enforced it would have reduced the ward electorates significantly. Again, in 1694 the Whigs pushed through Common Council an act to permit the Court of Aldermen to accept fines from sheriffs-elect reluctant to fill that costly post. Hence, though the Whigs did not explicitly renounce their earlier opposition to the mayoral prerogative of choosing one sheriff, the 1694 measure effectively deprieved Common Hall of the ability to make binding shrieval elections. Then in 1697, the Whig aldermen adopted an order fixing minimum property qualifications for the livery companies; the intent was to limit for the future membership in Common Hall to the upper 25 to 30 per cent of the corporation's ratepaying freemen. By and large, the Tories did not attempt to capitalize upon these Whig departures during the early and mid-1690s from their earlier populist positions, and they also stood on the sidelines in 1695 when the shrieval issue generated an extensive pamphlet debate over the City's constitution that indicated that some Whigs were unhappy over their leaders' measures. However, by the second half of Anne's reign, the London Tories, now in control in Common Council, supported direct attacks upon aldermanic prerogatives as wielded by Whig incumbents. In 1711 and 1713 they initiated lawsuits in Queen's Bench challenging aldermanic supervision of disputed ward elections, in 1712 Common Council adopted revised procedures aimed at safeguarding the electorate's rights in contested elections, and in 1711 and 1714 Common Council passed acts that inaugurated direct election of aldermen. These acts were carried over the opposition of aldermanic majorities, but after 1711 the embattled Whig aldermen, like their Tory predecessors during Exclusion days, drew back from invoking the veto. The reversal of parties' stands on civic governance is easier to chronicle than to explain. In part, tactical considerations influenced their changed postures. Once the Whigs gained control in the Court of Aldermen in 1689 and maintained that control for most of William's reign, it was no longer to their advantage to press for the reduction of aldermatic and mayoral authority. Then, too, the Whigs bore responsibility for the

Party in a Civic Context: London 183 corporation's administration at a time when its finances were in disarray; even after Parliament agreed in 1694 to a solution for the Orphans' Debt the corporation was hard-pressed for funds, and the resort to raising money by nominating shrieval candidates who would fine rather than serve was merely one symptom of this fiscal malaise. Moreover, though the Whigs lost their aldermanic majority during the earlier years of Anne's reign, they regained the upper hand in 1705 just as the Tories gained control of Common Council. Thus, it suited the Tories thereafter to stand up for the rights of Common Council and of the electors. Withal, the alterations in the parties' stance on constitutional matters cannot be separated from other contemporary developments. Most important was the heavy involvement of the wealthier London Whigs in the Financial Revolution beginning in the early 1690s. Whig merchants and City Dissenters both were disproportionately numerous and large participants in the Bank of England subscription of 1694 and the New East India Company subscription of 1698. Concomitantly, leading London Whigs were well represented on the directorates of these companies. Of the 88 bank directors chosen between 1694 and 1714, 19 were or became City aldermen during William's and Anne's reigns, and all but one of these were Whigs. 21 By contrast, London Tories were noteworthy by their relative lack of involvement in the Bank and the new East India Company. In part, this reflected the Tory inclinations of many goldsmith bankers (an occupational group prominent in its hostility to the Bank) and also the Tory attachments of these and other wealthy Londoners who had invested before 1689 in the old East India Company and the Royal African Company. Yet, it is striking that even the South Sea Company, founded in 1711 under the aegis of the Harley ministry as a counterpoise to the Bank and the now-united East India Company, contained from the outset a quite sizeable contingent of City Whigs.22 As a result, the City Whig leadership became closely identified with war finance from the early 1690s onwards, and this association tended to set them apart from their 'natural' following among the citizenry for whom war finance meant heavier taxes rather than new investment opportunities. In this regard, it is noteworthy that the Tory majorities in Common Council during the second half of Anne's reign not only challenged aldermanic prerogatives but also attacked 'unfair' competition from non-citizen residents practicing crafts or operating 20 Scholars of the period owe much to the analysis of London mercantile investors in these subscriptions by D. W. Jones in 'London Overseas Merchant Groups at the End of the Seventeenth Century, and the Move against the East India Company' (Oxford University, D.Phil., 1971) and in'London Merchants and the Crisis of the 1690s', Crisis and Order in English Towns, 1500-1700, ed. P. Clark and P. Slack (1972), pp. 11-55. 21 Author's tabulations. 22 De Krey, Fractured Society, pp. 242-3.

184 Britain in the First Age of Party retail businesses, and in 1712 an act was passed to compel such nonfreemen to take up citizenship. And as the City Tories cast themselves as protectors of ordinary freemen's economic interests, so some of their leaders - most notably the wealthy goldsmith Sir Charles Duncombe made public play of their personal generosity to the City's needy. The involvement of London Dissenters in the Financial Revolution also appears to have had significant political repercussions, which were magnified by the sizeable Dissenting element among the leadership of the London Whigs. Of the 34 Whig aldermen who sat between 1689 and 1714, 19 have now been identified as definite or probable Dissenters.23 Among this number were such prominent figures in the Bank and the New East India Company as Sir Gilbert Heathcote and Sir James Bateman. Among the Dissenters who served as Lord Mayor were Sir William Ashurst, Sir Thomas Abney, and Sir Humphrey Edwin, and it was Edwin's attendance in full civic regalia at a Nonconformist service in 1697 which helped to ignite the controversy over occasional conformity. By contrast, the City Tories, despite their takeover of populist positions on civic governance, remained the party of the Church, and London Tories combined economic protectionism with Anglican zeal in denouncing the ministry's 1709 measure for the naturalization of foreign Protestant refugees. In this light, it is noteworthy that whereas demonstrators and rioters in the metropolis during the Exclusion controversy and at the Glorious Revolution concentrated on targets associated with Popery, Dissenting meeting houses were the focus of attack by the Sacheverell rioters of 1710 and were again attacked in the anti-Hanoverian outbursts in the metropolis after George I's accession.24 The appearance of a marked swing in popular opinion within the City against the Whigs (and the Dissenters) from the late 1690s onwards is confirmed by an analysis of the composition of the two parties' electoral followings. Students of City politics during the Exclusion crisis have striven to verify the assertions of Charles H's ministers that the Tories were in a majority among the 'better sort' of Londoners and that Whig successes in Common Hall were the result of its enlargement so that 'instead of being de melioribus' it had become a 'Routish Assembly of sorry Citizens'.25 Yet, neither a sampling of City liverymen nor a breakdown of the City into poorer and richer wards lends much support to such claims.26 But there has now been accumulated a good deal of evidence indicating that by Anne's reign the 23

Information supplied by Gary De Krey. 24 In addition to Holmes, 'Sacheverell Riots', sec N. Rogers, 'Popular Protest in Early Hanoverian London', Past and Present, No. 79 (1978), and 'Riot and Popular Jacobitism in Early Hanoverian England', Ideology and Conspiracy: Aspects ofjacobitism, 1689-1759, ed. Eveline Cruickshanks (Edinburgh, 1982), pp. 70-88. 25 North, Examen, p. 93. 26 Smith, 'London and the Crown', pp. 26-9.

Party in a Civic Context: London 185 quality of the two parties' followings had diverged markedly. In the first place, in elections for Common Council the Whigs increasingly drew the bulk of their representation from the 12 small, relatively rich, and over-represented inner City wards which returned 113 of the 234 common councilmen. By contrast, the Tories predominated in the 11 larger and less well-to-do middle City wards which returned 88 common councilmen. And from 1705 onwards, the five populous and relatively poor outer wards, which returned 33 common councilmen, consistently favoured Tory candidates. In the second place, in Common Hall elections the Whigs, during the latter years of Anne's reign, were faring better with the liverymen who were members of the 17 'substantial' companies, the Tories with the liverymen of the 'artisanal' companies. In the 1710 and 1713 parliamentary polls, the Whigs garnered majorities (55 per cent or more) from ten of the 'substantial' companies' memberships, the Tories from only four. But the Tories gained majorities in 24 of the 43 'artisanal' companies, the Whigs in only 12.27 Admittedly, the data on the parties' electoral followings need to be handled cautiously, especially as each party did attract some support in those wards and companies in which the other established a predominance. Even so, the patterns which are discernible by the latter years of Anne's reign persisted after 1714. Throughout George I's reign and beyond, the Whigs did best in the inner City wards and among the liverymen of the substantial companies. Even after a partial split in party ranks, the Whig ministerialists in 1734 gained majorities among the members of 12 of the 'substantial' companies in a closely contested election for City chamberlain while their opponents gained majorities among the members of 34 of the 'artisanal' companies.28 Moreover, samples of individual voters in Common Hall confirm inferences drawn from the aggregate data. In the 1724 shrieval elections, the Whigs outvoted the Tories among wealthier liverymen by a two to one margin; in the 1734 poll, Whig voters on average were substantially better-off men than those who polled for the anti-ministerial i- i °9 candidate. Unfortunately for the Whigs, their loss of ground among the body of the citizenry came at a time when the political consciousness of 27

For these data and the identify of the 'substantial' companies, see De Krey, Fractured Society, pp. 167-76. 28 Author's tabulations from the poll lists printed in The Daily Post Extraordinary, 9 April 1734 (Guildhall Library), and A Daily Journal Extraordinary, 9 April 1734 (B.L., Burney 302b). 29 N. Rogers, The City Elections Act (1725) Reconsidered', E.H.R., C (1985), 611; idem, 'Resistance to Oligarchy: The City Opposition to Walpole and his Successors, 1725-47', London in the Age of Reform, ed. J. Stevenson (Oxford, 1977), pp. 6-7 and note 17.

186 Britain in the First Age. of Party Londoners, as of Englishmen generally, was being raised by a series of stimuli. Up to William's reign, populist agitation in the corporation had been associated mainly with moments of national political crisis 1641-42, 1679-81, 1688-89. But under William and Anne, frequent parliamentary elections under the Triennial Act of 1694 and the freeing of the press after the lapse of the Licensing Act that same year combined with the intense competition for power between the parties to keep the national political temperature at a high level year in and year out. To be sure, the 1712 stamp duty somewhat hobbled the press. Even so, as the London Whigs after George I's accession struggled to regain their former ascendancy in the corporation they faced an uphill task.30 The Whigs' situation in Common Hall was less daunting than in Common Council. Prior to 1710, they had gained the advantage in contested parliamentary elections in 1695, January 1701, 1705 and 1708; only in 1690 and 1702 had the Tories been able to elect more than one of their candidates. Moreover, the roughly 8,500 liverymen now entitled to vote in Common Hall were still a rather more select group than the 15,000 or so ward electors of the early eighteenth century. Thus, though the Whigs failed to gain any City seats in 1710 and 1713, years of Tory victories throughout the realm, they recaptured all four seats in 1715 as part of a sweeping overall victory. However in 1722, after the somewhat disunited Whigs finally settled on three candidates, only two were returned. The Whigs' difficulties in Common Council were far greater. Since 1705, the Tories had held the upper hand, and in the first election after Anne's death limited Whig gains still left them in a minority among the common councilmen identifiable as partisans (70 of 183). However, the Whigs' success in the parliamentary poll of January 1715, coupled with their dominance at Whitehall and on the new commission of lieutenancy, inspired a vigorous campaign, financed by the ministry, to regain the upper hand in Common Council. The Whig club which organized this effort canvassed ward by ward, while the full scope of the Crown's patronage in London — 'the office of ordnance . . ., the Navy, the Excise, the Custom House, the Victualling, the Bank, the East India Company' - was mobilized. Even so, on the most optimistic reckoning only 100 Whigs as against 114 Tories were elected in December 1715 - too few to gain control of the key operating committees of Common Council. 1 After 1715, the Tories repelled less determined Whig electoral 30

The following analysis of London politics after 1714 leans heavily upon the work of Nicholas Rogers. A narrative account of the 1720s and 1730s is provided by A. J. Henderson, London and the National Government, 1721-1742 (Durham, N.C., 1945). 31 'Minutes of a Whig Club, 1714-1717', ed. H. Horwitz, in London Politics, 17131717 (London Record Society Pub. XVII, 1981), pp. 28, 40, 47.

Party in a Civic Context: London

187

challanges; by 1722 those 'firm in the interest of the Church of England and asserters of the rights and privileges of their fellow citizens' outnumbered the identifiable Whig common councilmen by no less than 126 to 50.32 It is also a mark of the Whigs' narrow electoral base in the corporation that 33 of these 50 were returned from the inner City wards. However, the Whigs had one more string to their bow recourse to Parliament. In 1715, a move to seek legislation aimed at bolstering the party's position in the corporation had been blocked in Common Council, and as the Whigs remained in a minority in Common Council little could be expected from that quarter. So the Whig majority among the aldermen and the Tory majority among the common councilmen continued to dispute, though clashes were somewhat less frequent than they had been in the last years of the Queen's reign, if only because the Tories could no longer expect ministerial support. However, in 1723-24 a series of hotly disputed shrieval elections brought to the fore the contentious question of the aldermen's conduct as presiding officers at elections - above all, their refusal to be bound by open procedures in deciding whether challenged voters were actually entitled to exercise the franchise. As the quarrel grew more heated, so the Court of Aldermen decided to implement earlier threats to revive the claim to a power of veto over measures approved by a majority of Common Council. In turn, the Walpole ministry, apparently at its own initiative, decided that the time had arrived to bring into Parliament a measure aimed ostensibly at settling civic disputes but interpreted by its opponents as a device to strengthen the position of the ministers' allies in the corporation. As the ministry's bill provoked noisy opposition from the Common Council and within the Houses before its passage in the spring of 1725, so its original purpose has been the subject of scholarly debate.33 What is incontrovertible is that even after one contentious clause was dropped, the statute contained two provisions clearly aimed at weakening the City Tories and a third that may also have been framed to that end. First, the aldermanic prerogative of the veto was confirmed. Second, the ward franchise was further narrowed; hereafter, only those resident freemen householders who inhabited property worth £10 or more were to be entitled to vote in ward assemblies. Just how many were disqualified by this proviso remains unclear, but it would appear that its greatest impact would be in the outer wards. Third, the custom of London relating to bequests was no 32

Weekly Journal or Saturday's Post, 30 Dec. 1721; N. Rogers, 'London Politics from Walpole to Pitt: Patriotism and Independency in an Era of Commercial Imperialism, 1738-63', (Toronto University, Ph.D., \974), p. 621. 33 Rogers. 'City Elections Act', p. 611; Doolittle, 'Walpole's City Elections Act', pp. 504-29.

188 Britain in the First Age of Party longer to bind those who became free after the adoption of the act, and it is likely that the repeal was prompted by the hope of inducing wealthy non-citizen residents to take up the freedom and so help the Whigs maintain their hold on the inner City wards.34 Despite the controversy the City Elections Act provoked, it was a far less drastic interference with civic liberties than Charles IPs quo ivarranto. Still, the act underlined the mutual interests of the ministry and the Whig oligarchy within the corporation at the very moment that William Pulteney and Viscount Bolingbroke were concerting the basis of a 'patriot' alliance of dissident Whigs and Tories against Walpole. Among the opponents of the act in the Commons was John Barnard, one of the two Whigs returned for the City in 1722. Henceforward, Barnard, in association with the 'patriot' Pulteney, would play a prominent part in an increasingly vocal opposition to Walpole and to the 'monied interest' as represented by the Bank of England, the East India Company and the South Sea Company. The gathering opposition to the ministry and its financial allies and clients involved a partial political realignment within the corporation. One development, signalled by Barnard's break with the ministry after the City Elections Act, was the association of dissident Whigs with the London Tories. Barnard was a former Quaker, but in general the Dissenters steered clear of the anti-Walpolean coalition in London and elsewhere, for despite Walpole's reluctance to commit himself to a repeal of the Test Acts they had even fewer hopes of his opponents.35 A second development was a further weakening of the Whigs' strength in Common Hall, evidenced in part by a growth in split voting. In the 1710 and 1713 polls, over 89 per cent of the liverymen cast their votes either for all four Whig or all four Tory candidates. In the 1722 poll, over 93 per cent of the voters had polled for all three Whigs or all three Tories, and over 73 per cent of these party voters had declined to cast a fourth vote rather than give it to one of the opposing slate. But in the 1727 poll, with Barnard joining with three Tories, only 76 per cent of the liverymen voted straight tickets.36 A third was the adoption by the City anti-ministerialists of an increasingly strident libertarian rhetoric, often coupled with a chauvinist strain that harked back to earlier antiforeigner and anti-Hanoverian outbursts. Thus, the repeal of the City Elections Act was coupled with other more general grievances including the neglect of English trading interests abroad, the 34

See also H. Horwitz, 'Testamentary Practice, Family Strategies and the Last Phases of the Custom of London, 1660-1725', Law and History Review, II (1984), 22340. 35 For the Dissenters, see N. C. Hunt, Two Early Political Associations (Oxford, 1961). A fullscale study of Dissent in Hanoverian London is badly needed. 36 Rogers, 'Resistance to Oligarchy', p. 2; W. Speck and W. Gray, 'Londoners at the Polls under Anne and George I', Guildhall Studies in London History, I (1975), 235-62.

Party in a Civic Context: London 189 maintenance of Hanoverian troops, and ministerial 'corruption'. Although the political realignment within the corporation did not alter the dependence of the ministerial Whigs in the City upon the votes of the more prosperous and the Dissenters, the reaction to the 1725 act only served to erode their strength. Granted, the revival of the veto did for a time enable the ministerialist majority on the alder manic bench to prevent opposition addresses emanating from Common Council, particularly the anti-Hanoverian address of June 1727, from being adopted as official statements of the corporation. But they remained a hapless minority in Common Council, while of the two ministerial candidates returned in the general election of 1727, one soon after went into opposition. The narrowing of the ministerial Whigs' base in the corporation was apparent in the winter of 1732-33 when Walpole's excise proposals set off a national storm. Sir Robert's plan threatened, or was portrayed as threatening, a wide spectrum of business interests, among them the London wine and tobacco merchants who from late 1732 onwards took a leading part in the anti-excise agitation in the metropolis.37 Walpole's supporters in the City were, moreover, at a tactical disadvantage since John Barber, chosen mayor for 1733 as the senior alderman below the chair, was a committed Tory, suspected by many ofjacobite leanings.38 Barber took full advantage of his official prerogatives to promote the anti-Excise campaign. It was Barber who called a special meeting of Common Council in mid-February 1733 which concluded with instructions to the City M.P.s to oppose the scheme; it was Barber, too, who convened the meeting of the Common Council on 9 April which resolved to bring in a petition from the City to the House of Commons against the Excise bill. As the corporation was mobilized against the excise both as a threat to trade and as a danger to Englishmen's liberties, so the City's stand was a considerable asset to the opposition. As one ministerialist sourly noted: 'Every alarm sounded from the faction in London came reverberated by a thousand echoes from every part of the country'. In turn, Walpolc, even after deciding not to press on with his proposal, was intent on not having it appear that he had retreated 'at the 37 J. Price, 'The Excise Affair Revisited: The Administrative and Colonial Dimensions of a Parliamentary Crisis', England's Rise to Greatness, 1660-1763, ed. S. Baxter (Berkeley, 1983), pp. 292-7. 38 Dr. Eveline Cruickshanks has uncovered evidence that Barber was in correspondence with James III and was a committed Jacobite. For the vexed question of the strength ofjacobite sentiment among the aldermen and common councillors before 1745, compare Eveline Cruickshanks, Political Untouchables: The Tories and the '45 (1979), pp. 40-1, 139-47; Rogers, 'Resistance to Oligarchy', pp. 13-14, 18-20. See also N. Rogers, 'Party Politics during the Whig Ascendancy', Canadian Historical Journal, XVII (1983), 253-60.

190 Britain in the First Age of Party instigation of the City'.39 But though the blow to Walpole's prestige was severe, the setback was not decisive. Like the Harley ministry after its loss in the Commons over the French trade treaty in 1713, the Walpoleans held their own in the ensuing general election. None the less, from 1733 onwards the citixens of London played a prominent part in the opposition to the ministry. Four anti-Walpoleans, two of them Whigs, were returned in the general election of 1734, though the ministerialists did manage to prevent the choice of Barber. Between 1734 and 1738, the 'patriots' came close to gaming a majority on the aldermanic bench. And after the signing of the Convention with Spain in February 1739, corporate bodies were in the van of the nationwide propaganda campaign of the succeeding three years. A central feature of the anti-ministerial agitation in London during Walpole's last years was the series of instructions to the City M.P.s adopted by Common Council and Common Hall. Concerted at the Half Moon Tavern on Cheapside (a centre for Tory activity since the early 1720s), these manifestoes were widely disseminated via the national and provincial press. Indeed, the Common Council's resolutions of early 1742 were copied in at least 36 other constituencies. 40 As the first Earl of Shaftesbury would have found these tactics of the 'patriots' familiar, so even their slogans would not have been totally alien, with their coupling of condemnations of the ministry's conduct of foreign affairs with calls 'to restore the ancient freedom of our constitution . . . against all future attempts either of open or secret corruption'.41 Perhaps more surprising to that earl would have been the relative success of the anti-ministerialists within the corporation. While the Exclusionists had lacked the time necessary to capture the Court of Aldermen and hence were eventually to find mayoral authority turned against them, the City 'patriots' - building upon the enactments of the Tory Common Councils between 1710 and 1714 - had even turned distaste for the City Elections Act into an asset and succeeded in making the corporation a model of participatory politics. At the same time, Sir Robert's opponents in London - combining their strength among the electorate with access to the national press - had made civic bodies leading voices of 'independent' opinion. Indeed, the Pelhams' acquiescence in the repeal of the aldermanic veto in 1746 was both testimony to the failure of the 1725 act and a measure of the concern 39 John, Lord Hervey, Some Materials Towards Memoirs of the Reign of King George 11, ed. R. Sedgwick (3 vols., 1931), I, 146, 156. 40 Rogers, 'Resistance to Oligarchy', pp. 11-13; idem, 'Clubs and Politics in Eighteenth-Century London: The Centenary Club of Cheapside', London Journal, XI (1985), 52-3, 55-6. 41 Common Council's petition of 10 Feb. 1742 quoted in The House of Commons, 171554, ed. R. Sedgwick (2 vols., 1970) [hereafter cited as HP 1715-54], I, 281.

Party in a Civic Context: London 191 Walpole's successors displayed to conciliate opinion within the corporation. Paradoxically, the corporation's leading role in the extraparliamentary campaign against Walpole was played out at the end of a century in which its economic and social predominance within the metropolis had been eroded by several inter-related developments. For one, since the Civil War, the corporation's population had shrunk while the rest of the metropolis continued to grow. For a second, the corporation had ceased to be the prime source of credit for the central government. Up to the early 1690s, the Crown continued to raise short term loans through the City Chamber despite the corporation's own fiscal problems. Yet just when the City finally secured a settlement of the Orphans' Debt, Parliament founded the Bank of England. So in 1710 when the government's principal creditors tried to stave off Lord Treasurer Godolphin's dismissal, the initiative was taken by directors of the Bank, not the mayor and aldermen. Then, too, after George I's accession, aldermanic involvement in the three great monied companies declined significantly; 19 of the sitting aldermen at Anne's death had or would serve as directors of at least one of the three companies but only 10 of the aldermen in office at Walpole's fall ever served on the directorates of the three.42 Given this decline, which was certainly accelerated by the ministerialists' fading majority on the aldermanic bench after 1733, it is not surprising that at the time of the '45 the financial elite of the metropolis acted independently of the civic elite in drafting loyalist addresses and in raising subscriptions for additional regiments. 3 Perhaps the most significant aspect of the corporation's decline was the diminishing proportion of metropolitan businessmen and merchants who served out apprenticeships and became citizens. Already at the Restoration, the City fathers were sufficiently concerned about the phenomenon of the unfree merchant in London to secure a clause in the new charter of the Levant Company requiring that its members, with but limited exceptions for peers, gentry and nonresidents, take up the freedom. Thanks in part to this exercise in foresight, as late as the 1690s the majority of native overseas traders in London were probably citizens, with Levant merchants constituting almost one-fifth of the foreign traders who can be identified at that juncture as liverymen.44 Thereafter, however, the balance between citizen and non-citizen among Londoners of substance tilted against the corporation, and the repeal in 1725 of the testamentary custom of the City did nothing to stem this flight from the freedom. For some, 42 43 44

Author's tabulations. Rogers, 'Resistance to Oligarchy', p. 15. De Krey, Fractured Society, pp. 128, 137.

192 Britain in the First Age of Party service on the directorates of the rnonied companies and election to the House of Commons may have offered alternatives to the prestige of the aldermancy and the mayoralty; for others, the burdens of civic participation, not least the onerous shrievalty, may have been a deterrent. Whatever the reasons, the results are apparent. On the one hand, the proportion of merchants on the Common Council fell sharply; between 1660 and 1689 foreign traders made up between 25 and 35 per cent of that body, but by the later 1730s they constituted only 15 per cent, with wholesalers, retailers and craftsmen together now supplying over 60 per cent of its membership. 5 On the other hand, the proportion of citizens among London men of business serving in Parliament also declined substantially. While over threequarters (23 of 30) of London men of business who sat in the Cavalier Parliament were citizens, little more than half (24 of 43) of their counterparts in the Parliament of 1710-13 were citizens, and by the Parliament of 1734-41 the proportion of citizens had fallen to under two-fifths (17 of 44).46 Thus, while the business element in the Commons increased somewhat between the reigns of Charles II and George II, the number of citizen M.P.s actually declined. By the mid-eighteenth century, then, the financial and commercial underpinnings of the corporation's predominance within the metropolis had been weakened. There are signs, too, that the corporation's political influence vis a vis other metropolitan interests was on the wane. After the failure of an attempt in 1702 to make citizenship a prerequisite for service on the directorate of the united East India Company, the corporation limited its efforts to compelling craftsmen and retailers within its bounds to take up the freedom. Again, though the corporation was successful as late as 1721 in maintaining London Bridge as the sole span across the Thames, in 1736 that monopoly was finally breached by the passage of a statute for the construction of Westminster Bridge. Besides these indicators of the corporation's declining 'clout' in relation to competing metropolitan interests, it is also noteworthy that during the 1740s Westminster parliamentary polls emerged as supplementary occasions to City elections for the voicing of anti-ministerialist sentiments within the metropolis. 43

N. Rogers, 'The Urban Opposition to Whig Oligarchy, 1720-60', The Origins of Anglo-American Radicalism, ed. Margaret and J. Jacob (1984), pp. 142, 148. 46 Author's tabulations. The figures for the 1661-78 Commons (867 members) are derived from The House of Commons, 1660-1690, ed. B. D. Henning (3 vols., 1983); those for the 1710-13 Commons (525 English and Welsh members) with some corrections from M. McHattie, 'Mercantile Interests in the House of Commons, 171013' (Manchester University, M.A., 1949); those for the 1734-41 Commons (638 English and Welsh members) from the lists, with some corrections, in HP 1715-54, I, 148-52.

Party in a Civic Context: London 193 But if the corporation's influence within the metropolis was diminishing, the City's standing in national politics had never been higher. Walpoleans might circularize M.P.s in 1739 with lists of the names and occupations of the common councilmen as a means of dismissing that body's addresses as the words of an inconsequential assembly of shopkeepers, but despite the widening gap between civic and financial elites after 1714 the London citizenry's views could not simply be ignored.47 Indeed, in the decades after Walpole's fall, the citizenry's support would prove quite important both to the elder Pitt and to John Wilkes. Thus, the corporation's high degree of autonomy, its regular round of elections, and its broad franchises, coupled with the entrenchment of those patterns of populist politics which had taken shape since the 1690s, helped to preserve the corporation's role as the principal voice of London public sentiment into the second half of the eighteenth century. 47

Henderson, London, pp. 188-9.

Bibliographical Note There is no adequate survey of Stuart London; aspects of economic and social development arc analysed in London, 1500-1700, ed. A. L. Bcier and R. Finlay (1986). For the eighteenth century, G. Rude, Hanoverian London, 1714-1808(1971). London-based commercial and financial ventures are the subjects of many specialist studies. In addition to the work of D. W. Jones (cited in note 20), mention may be made of J. Carswell, The South Sea Bubble (1960); K. G. Davies, The Royal African Company (1957); Ralph Davis, Aleppo and Devonshire Square (1967); P. G. M. Dickson, The Sun Insurance Office (Oxford, 1960); P. Longhead, 'The East India Company in English Domestic Polities' (Oxford University, D.Phil., 1981); J. Price, The Tobacco Adventure to Russia (Transactions of the American Philosophical Society, new scr., LI, 1961); B. Supple, The Royal Exchange Assurance (Cambridge, 1970); Lucy Sutherland, The East India Company in Eighteenth Century Politics (Oxford, 1952); and C. Wilson, Anglo-Dutch Commerce and Finance in the Eighteenth Century (Cambridge, 1941). The primary materials for the City's institutional and political history begin with the corporation's official records. These were mined in the

194 Britain in the First Age of Party nineteenth century by R. R. Sharpe and A. B. Beaven. Since then, they have been drawn upon for the City's administrative history by J. R. Kellett, 'The Causes and Progress of the Financial Decline of the Corporation of London' (London University, Ph.D., 1952) and I, G. Doolittle, The Government of the City of London, 1694-1767' (Oxford University, D. Phil., 1979). Some of their results are reported in J. Kellett, 'The Financial Crisis of the Corporation of London and the Orphans Act, 1694', Guildhall Miscellany, II (1960-68), 220-7; I. Doolittle, 'The City of London's Debt to its Orphans, 1694-1767', B.I.H.R., LVI(1983), 46-59. Other important primary materials include pamphlets (many extracted in J. Ralph, History of England [2 vols., 1744]), manuscript newsletters (which form the basis of N. Luttrell, A Brief Historical Relation of State Affairs [6 vols., Oxford, 1859]), and, after 1694, newspapers. The relevant volumes of the 'History of Parliament' bring together much valuable information on elections and M.P.s. J. R. Woodhead, The Rulers of London, 1660-1689 (1965), is invaluable, though occasionally in error; a continuation of Woodhead for subsequent reigns is badly needed. For City politics in the 1670s and 1680s, the most important studies are those of D. F. Allen and A. G. Smith (notes 12 and 13). See also J. G. Harris, 'Politics of the London Crowd in the Reign of Charles II' (Cambridge University, Ph.D., 1984). For City politics between the Glorious Revolution and the South Sea Bubble, see, in addition to the works of De Krey (notes 7 and 19), B. Hill, The Change of Government and the "Loss of the City", 1710-11', Ec.H.R., 2nd ser., XXIV (1971), 395-413; H. Horwitz and W. Speck, London Politics, 1713-1717 (London Record Society Pub., XVII, 1981); and W. Speck and W. Gray, 'Londoners at the Polls under Anne and George I', Guildhall Studies in London History, I (1975), 235-62. For City politics during Walpole's ministry, in addition to the works of N. Rogers (notes 24, 29, 32, 38, 40 and 45), see G. Rude, London and Paris in the Eighteenth Century: Studies in Popular Protest (1970); Linda Colley, 'Eighteenth Century Radicalism Before Wilkes', T.R.Hist.S., 5th ser., XXXI (1981), 1-19.

10

Urban Development in the Age of Defoe* Peter Borsay

My first authentic view of Augustan England (c. 1680-1730) was that captured through the pages of Daniel Defoe's A Tour Through the Whole Island of Great Britain^ The freshness and vitality of these first impressions have scarcely dimmed since then. The Tour was written and published in three volumes between 1722 and 1726 and was designed in the form of a travel diary. It was clearly intended to exploit the growing market for this type of literature. But like all the best guide-books, it is much more than a dry itinerary of places to visit and sights to see. Defoe is no Georgian Baedeker. As the pages unfold, it is evident that the author is engaged upon a journey which traverses not only a topographical landscape but also the economic and social contours of the country. Indeed, the Tour is not so much a travelogue as an anatomy (even a vision) of the nation. Few visions are perfect. By necessity they highlight some features rather than others. Defoe's is no exception. Though he lived in a predominantly rural society, his perspective is that of a Londoner and a townsman. His travels may be interspersed with much perceptive commentary on country affairs, but their destination is always the next town en route and journey's end is invariably London. The Tour is thus a natural point of departure to explore the theme of this essay, urban development in late seventeenthcentury and early eighteenth-century England. This is a subject that has recently attracted the attention of a number of historians. It is hoped in the following pages to communicate some of the results, implications and excitement of their work, and to illustrate its various facets (where possible) by reference to Defoe's Tour. When I first embarked on my journey around Britain with Defoe, I did so, like many undergraduates before and since, in the company of Geoffrey Holmes. I could not have *Dates, spelling and punctuation have all been modernized. I should like to thank Anne Borsay for reading through the text and commenting on it. A modern edition of the complete original text has been published by Everyman in two volumes (revised edn., 1962), with introductions by G. D. H. Cole and D. C. Drowning. This is the one referred to throughout this essay. An abridged version of the Tour has been published in the Penguin English Library (1971) with an excellent introduction and useful notes by Pat Rogers. See also his, The Guidebook as Epic: Reportage and Art in Defoe's Tour', in P. Rogers, Eighteenth Century Encounters (Brighton, 1985), pp. 115-50.

196 Britain in the First Age of Party had a more discerning or stimulating companion. Few historians have understood Augustan Britain better than he, or been able to transmit its vibrant qualities with such scholarship and imagination. This essay is indebted beyond measure to his early guidance. 2

Since the 1960s Britain has seen an explosion of interest in urban history. Because of our contemporary association of industrialization and 'conurbanization', the majority of this attention has focused on the cities of the Industrial Revolution. However, a smaller but growing body of historians, have turned instead to the remoter world of the early modern town (roughly covering the years 1500-1750). Their labours have instigated a lively academic debate and a wealth of new literature." But the bulk of this has concentrated on the Tudor and early Stuart period leaving the century between the Restoration and the Industrial Revolution curiously underexplored. Only latterly has the spotlight begun to turn on what is rapidly emerging as a critical transitional period between the urban regimes of pre-industrial and modern Britain. 4 This essay will examine the findings of this recent work under three headings: the general urban background, the forces behind urban development, and the impact of change on towns and the nation as a whole. But before tackling these issues, we must briefly investigate the credentials of our Augustan guide. Defoe's Tour, like all historical sources, has its flaws.5 Commercial pressures impelled the author to stress the comprehensiveness, originality and modernity of his publication. In the competitive world of guide-books, such qualities were valuable selling-points for any new addition to the genre. Defoe suggested that his text was based on a Two important landmarks in the development of the subject have been The Study of Urban History, ed. H. J. Dyos (1968), and The Pursuit of Urban History, ed. D. Fraser and A. Sutcliffe (1983). The best way of keeping abreast of recent developments in the subject is through the Urban History Yearbook (Leicester, 1974- ). 3 Some of the most important general surveys and collections have been, Crisis and Order in English Towns, ed. P. Clark and P. Slack (1972); P. Clark and P. Slack, English Towns in Transition, 1500-1700 (1976); J. Patten, English Towns, 1500-1700 (Folkestone, 1978). 4 For general surveys and collections see A. Everitt, 'Urban Growth, 1570-1770', The Local Historian, VIII (1968), 118-25; C. Chalklin, The Provincial Towns of Georgian England (1974); The Rise of the New Urban Society (Open University, English Urban History Course, Milton Keynes, 1977); A. Mclnnes, The English Town, 1660-1760 (Historical Association Pamphlet, 1980); Country Towns in Pre-industrial England, ed. P. Clark (Leicester, 1981); P. Corfield, The Impact of English Towns, 1700-1800 (Oxford, 1982); The Transformation of English Provincial Towns, 1600-1800, ed. P. Clark (1984). D Two valuable studies of the Tour as an historical source are J. H. Andrews, 'Defoe and the Sources of his Tour', Geographical Review, CXXVI (1960), 268-77; and F. H. Bastian, 'Defoe's Tour and the Historian', History Today, XVII (1967), 845-51.

197 Urban Development in the Age of Defoe number of special fact-finding journeys carried out in the months prior to the publication of each volume. Such claims were misleading, not to say fraudulent. The punishing up-to-the-minute itinerary was largely a literary ruse, forgivable perhaps for a man in his sixties (Defoe was born in about 1660). The evidence on which it was based was in reality drawn from a lifetime of travel, supplemented occasionally by other writers' accounts. Therefore, the Tour is frequently ten or twenty years out of date. It also appears that Defoe failed to visit all the places that he claims to have done, particularly those in the inhospitable peripheral regions of Wales, north Lancashire and Cumbria. But such deficiencies hardly deflect from the unique value of the Tour, which rests on the immense experience and intelligence of its author. 6 Defoe enjoyed an extraordinarily diverse career as merchant, businessman, speculator, bankrupt, government servant, pamphleteer, journalist and novelist. In these capacities, he travelled extensively and published on a galaxy of subjects. Especially important were the years in the early 1700s when he toured the length and breadth of the nation acting as a secret agent and psephologist for Robert Harley. In less than four months in 1705, he visited at least 68 towns in 24 counties, a journey which for a large part exactly parallels one in the Tour two decades later.7 Few men could have known Augustan society as well as Defoe, or have been compelled by their profession to appraise it so rigorously. Even fewer could have combined both these qualities. Whereas other travel diarists, such as Celia Fiennes, collect valuable but undigested details, Defoe transcends the mass of topographical minutiae to offer a wealth of economic and social analysis of the urban system. For such nuggets of contemporary observation, the odd peccadillo of misinformation can be easily tolerated. 3

The urban world of Defoe would appear very strange to us. Today about two in every three residents of the United Kingdom live in communities of over 20,000 souls (a common contemporary standard for measuring urbanization), compared with only one in ten of the inhabitants of England and Wales in 1700. Virtually all the latter were packed into the monstrous city of London (575,000), with Norwich and Bristol the only provincial towns whose size exceeded the modern yardstick of urbanity. 8 But twentieth-century statistical definitions make little sense in a society whose population was so much tinier and 6 J. Sutherland, Defoe (2nd edn., 1950);J. R. Moore, Daniel Defoe Citizen of the Modem World (Chicago, 1958); P. Earle, The World of Defoe (1976). 7 H.M.C., Portland MSS., IV, 269-72; Tour, I, 188-272. E. Lampard, 'The Nature of Urbanization', Pursuit of Urban History, ed. Fraser and Sutcliffe, pp. 26, 46; Corfield, English Towns, pp. 8-9.

198 Britain in the First Age of Party more dispersed than our own. In the 1690s Gregory King, the great early political economist, thought that a smaller town might contain as few as 150 houses (or perhaps 650 people) and estimated that a quarter of the total population lived in urban centres. He was probably not far amiss in either observation. 9 Though the towns of Defoe's England differed a good deal in individual character, they can be arranged into a rough hierarchy10 of four broad tiers, based on the degree and extent of influence which a centre exercised over its hinterland. The vast majority of urban settlements, over 500 or about 85 per cent of the total in 1700,n occupied the bottom drawer. As small market towns or ports with populations of between 500 and 2,500, they formed the bedrock of the urban system, providing their rural neighbourhoods with a range of simple commercial services. Most were very tiny containing no more than a market-place and a handful of streets. In the late seventeenth century, Henley in Arden in Warwickshire boasted only 500 to 700 souls and Tonbridge in Kent 600 to 800, yet their economic function and structure was undeniably that of a town.12 Sharing this first tier were a subgroup of more substantial and prosperous market towns and ports with populations of between 1,500 and 2,500. They served a larger neighbourhood, were sometimes located on fine navigable rivers and often accommodated important inter-regional markets. Defoe distinguished such places from their smaller brethren by some mark of commendation. Petworth he describes as 'a large handsome country market town', Tamworth as 'a fine pleasant trading town', and both Farnham and Basingstoke as 'a large populous market town'.13 Occupying the second tier of the urban hierarchy came a group of 60 to 70 regional centres, with populations of 2,500 to 11,000, and exerting an influence that stretched considerably beyond their immediate localities. Amongst these were to be found the shire towns. Their core region was usually based on a particular county, or

9

Seventeenth-Century Economic Documents, ed. J. Thirsk and J. P. Cooper (Oxford, 1972), pp. 771-2, 791. 10 For a similar approach see Clark and Slack, Towns in Transition, pp. 8-10, and Patten, English Towns, pp. 51-5. 11 Chalklin, Provincial Towns, pp. 4-5. P. Styles, Studies in Seventeenth Century West Midlands History (Kineton, 1978), pp. 205-12; C. W. Chalklin, 'A Seventeenth-Century Market Town: Tonbridge', Archaeologia Cantiana, LXXVI (1961), 152-62. 13 Tour, I, 132, 142, 180; II, 82. 14 A. Everitt, 'Country, County and Town: Patterns of Regional Evolution in England', T.R.Hist.S., 5th ser., XXIX (1979), 79-108; V.C.H., Warwickshire, VIII (1969) for Warwick; V.C.H., Wiltshire, VI (1962) for Salisbury; A. Rosen, 'Winchesterin Transition, 1580-1700', Country Towns, ed. Clark, pp. 144-95.

Urban Development in the Age of Defoe 199 portion of one, though they frequently drew additional clientele from further afield. Some of the larger or more physically divided counties possessed several of these centres; Yorkshire supported Wakefield, Beverley and Doncaster, along with York. They were characterised by their wide range of administrative functions, their diverse and thriving economies, and the high status of their residents, visitors and cultural services. This tier also included the larger ports 15 and dockyards, 16 though the latter exerted little regional influence, and those towns that serviced rural-industrial regions, such as Colchester, Manchester, Leeds, Sheffield and Birmingham. 17 Proudly placed on the next rung of the ladder were an elite corps of provincial capitals. In 1700 they generally had populations of over 10,000. Each presided over a great wedge of the nation; Norwich (30,000) over East Anglia, Bristol (20,000) the mid and south west, Newcastle (16,000) the north east, Exeter (14,000) the south west, York (12,000) the north, Chester (8,000) the mid and north west, and Shrewsbury (7,500) the mid west and Wales.18 All enjoyed a wide spectrum of important economic, social and political functions, and it was this multi-faceted character that was the source of their extensive influence. By Defoe's death, the burgeoning centres of Liverpool, Birmingham and Manchester were close to joining their ranks. Astride the urban league, and in a division all of its own, was

15

G. Chandler, Liverpool (1957); P. G. E. Clemens, The Rise of Liverpool, 16601750', Ec.H.R., 2nd ser., XXIX (1976), 211-25; G.Jackson, Hull in the Eighteenth Century (1972); J. E. Williams, 'Whicehaven in the Eighteenth Century', Ec.H.R., 2nd ser., VIII (1956), 393-402; M. Rccd, 'Economic Structure and Change in Seventeenth-Century Ipswich', Country Towns, ed. Clark, pp. 88-141. 16 D. C. Coleman, 'Naval Dockyards under the Later Stuarts', Ec.H.R., new ser., VI (1953-4), 134-55. 17 A. F. J. Brown, 'Colchester in the Eighteenth Century', East Anglian Studies, ed. L. M. Munby (Cambridge, 1968), pp. 146-73; R. G. Wilson, Gentlemen Merchants. The Merchant Community in Leeds, 1700-1830 (Manchester, 1971); M. Walton, Sheffield. Its Story and its Achievements (3rd edn., Sheffield, 1952); V.C.H., Warwickshire, VII (1964) for Birmingham; C. Gill, History of Birmingham, Volume I, Manor and Borough to 1865 (1952); V. Skipp, A History of Greater Birmingham - down to 1830 (Birmingham, 1980). 18 P. Corfield, 'A Provincial Capital in the Late Seventeenth-Century: The Case of Norwich', Crisis and Order, ed. Clark and Slack, pp. 263-310; B. Little, The City and County of Bristol (1954); Bristol in the Eighteenth Century, ed. P. McGarth (1972); H. Bourne, The History oj Newcastle upon Tyne (Newcastle, 1736); J. Ellis, 'A Dynamic Society: Social Relations in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, 1660-1760', English Provincial Towns, ed. Clark, pp. 190-227; W. G. Hoskins, Industry, Trade and People in Exeter, 16881800 (2nd edn., Exeter, 1968); F. Drake, Ehoracum: or, the History and Antiquities of the City of York (first published 1736, reprinted Wakefield, 1978); V.C.H., The City of York (1961). Population figures from P. J. Corfield, 'Economic Growth and Change in Seventeenth-Century English Towns', The Traditional Community Under Stress (Open University, English Urban History Course, Milton Keynes, 1977), p. 42.

200 Britain in the First Age of Party 19 London. From a city of about 60,000 in the early sixteenth century, it had mushroomed into a huge conurbation of over half a million, or one in ten of Englishmen, by 1700. Twenty times the size of the nearest provincial capital, it was the biggest city in Western Europe and one of the three to four largest in the world. As the leading market town, port, craft centre, leisure resort, and domicile of the monarchy, government and central law courts, it seemed the very dynamo of the nation. Its physical growth provoked both admiration and trepidation. With 'such a prodigy of buildings . . . nothing in the world does, or ever did, equal it' declaimed Defoe, before speculating more equivocally, 'with Westminster . . . in a fair way to shake hands with Chelsea, as St. Giles is with Marylebone . . . whither will this monstrous city then extend?'20 The idea of a hierarchy or league table of towns offers a valuable if rather static overview of the urban scene. We must now examine the impact of change. Recent work on Tudor and early Stuart towns (c. 1500-1660), especially the larger and medium sized centres, has stressed the problems and difficulties which beleaguered them. Though not all historians would agree with this pessimistic approach, the theme of crisis has dominated discussion and debate. After the Restoration, rough waters still lay ahead for some communities, particularly those at the very bottom of the urban hierarchy. One estimate suggests that 'perhaps as many as one third' of Tudor and early Stuart markets in England and Wales had become extinct by 1770, another that the number of market centres in 'metropolitan western England' fell by a fifth in the century after 1690.21 Moreover, Defoe himself warned that 'the fate of things gives a new face to things . . . raises and sinks towns', and described a number of decayed or depressed urban settlements.22 But if there was still a whiff of crisis in the air, nobody reading the Tour could doubt that the leitmotif of the Augustan urban world was growth and prosperity. Several of the problems that had so threatened earlier

19

Defoe, Tour, I, 314-76; M. D. George, London Life in the Eighteenth Century (first published 1925, reprinted 1966); N. G. Brett-James, The Growth of Stuart London (1935); E. A. Wrigley, 'A Simple Model of London's Importance in Changing English Society and Economy', Past and Present, No. 37 (1967), pp. 44-70; G. Rude, Hanoverian London, 1714-1808 (1971); J. Lindsay, The Monster City: Defoe's London, 1688-1730 (1978); L. Stone, 'The Residential Development of the West End of London in the Seventeenth Century', After the Reformation, cd. B. C. Malamcnt (Manchester, 1980), pp. 167-212; Corfield, English Towns, pp. 66-81. 20 Tour, I, 314-16. 21 Everitt, 'Urban Growth', p. 120; J. Chartres, 'Markets and Marketing in Metropolitan England in the Late Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries', Husbandry and Marketing in the South-West, 1500-1800, ed. M. Havindcn (Exeter, 1973), p. 64. 22 Tour, I, 2, 43, 120-4, 130-1, 218, 257.

201 Urban Development in the Age of Defoe towns and retarded their development, such as religious upheaval, civil warfare and plague, effectively vanished;23 others which still remained, like economic dislocation, fire and poverty, no longer seemed so awesome. Calamities could still occur but their severity was often softened by the basic health of the economy. The decline of the Essex cloth industry in the early 1700s seriously depressed Colchester, but from the middle of the century its fortunes revived again as it emerged as a more diversified regional service centre. The catastrophic fire that tore the heart out of Warwick in 1694, damaging over 150 properties in 'the principal trading part of the town', proved the stimulus for a social and architectural renaissance, so that Defoe found it 'now rebuilt in so noble and beautiful a manner, that few towns in England make so fine an appearance'. Hand in hand with urban development went demographic change. This was not one of Defoe's strong suits but it is a subject close to the hearts of modern historians. The proportion of the nation living in towns was undoubtedly expanding; one estimate (surely on the low side) suggests that in England and Wales it grew from a fifth to a quarter between 1650 and 1750, another that communities of over 2,500 increased their share from 18.7 per cent to 22.6 per cent between 1700 and 1750.25 Behind this redistribution of the demographic cake lay two principal factors. The first was a remarkable deceleration in the growth of the nation's population. Whereas in the century before 1650 it had increased by about 75 per cent, in the century afterwards growth plummeted to a paltry ten per cent.26 Towns no longer needed to expand so rapidly to match or overtake growth rates in the countryside. Deceleration also had very positive benefits by helping to increase real income levels, thereby reducing the pressure of poverty on towns and raising the demand for more expensive urban goods and services. Secondly, certain towns continued to expand considerably. Between 1650 and 1700 London added another 175,000 or 40 per cent to its corpulent body, though at some point during the early decades of the eighteenth century (perhaps around the 1720s as the gin craze took root)

23

A. B. Appleby, 'The Disappearance of Plague: a Continuing Puzzle', Ec.H.R., 2nd ser., XXXIII (1980), 161-73. For the impact of the Civil War on Colchester see Defoe, Tour,\, 18-31. 24 Brown, 'Colchester in the Eighteenth Century'; P. N. Borsay, 'The English Urban Renaissance: Landscape and Leisure in the Provincial Town, c. 1660-1770', (Lancaster University, Ph.D., 1981), pp. 123-98; Tour, II, 84. 25 Chalklin, Provincial Towns, pp. 17-25; Corfield, English Towns, pp. 7-9. See also C. M. Law, 'Some Notes on the Urban Population of England and Wales in the Eighteenth Century', The Local Historian, X (1972), 13-26. 26 Calculated from E. A. Wrigley and R. S. Schofield, The Population History of England, 1541-1871 (1981), pp. 208-9.

202 Britain in the First Age of Party satiation or saturation set in and growth was temporarily halted.27 While London rested, the more substantial provincial towns (of over 2,500) forged ahead, increasing their share of the country's population between 1700 and 1750 from 7.6 per cent to 11.5 per cent. The most spectacular contribution came from the rising commercial and industrial centres; Manchester grew from about 5,500 in 1670 to almost 20,000 by 1750, Liverpool from 1,500 to 22,000 and Birmingham from 4,400 to almost 24,000.29 Such growth initiated the greatest shake up in the urban hierarchy since medieval times, with the 'arriviste' towns beginning to force their way up the ladder. As Defoe remarked of the huge but unincorporated Manchester, 'you have here an open village, which is greater and more populous than many, nay, than most cities in England, not York, Lincoln, Chester . . . can come up to it ... and for lesser cities, two or three put together, would not equal it'.30 The shape of the modern urban world was already emerging before the Industrial Revolution. What fuelled urban growth? The key factor in most cases was migration, since many towns were so unhealthy that they could barely replenish their own numbers.31 Despite potentially draconian settlement laws, early modern England was a surprisingly mobile society. In the Augustan period it has been suggested that roughly two in every three people changed their parish of domicile at least once during a lifetime, and it has been argued that to support London's size and growth a sixth of the nation, or even higher, must have resided in the city at some point in their lives.32 The metropolis's role in stimulating the ebb and flow of migrants waned a little in the early eighteenth century, as the rapidly expanding provincial towns began to offer opportunities for work nearer home. This tended to reduce the distance migrants travelled so that the great majority moved a relatively short distance, probably less than 20 miles. Most of them were young and the majority women in search of jobs in domestic service, innkeeping and the tertiary sector of the urban economy. The outcome for many towns, except perhaps those offering industrial employment, was a marked surplus of women over men (in Bristol in 1696 there were only 80 males for every 100 females), leaving

27 Wrigley, 'Simple Model ofLondon's Importance', pp. 44; George, London Life, pp. 36-55. 28 Corfield, English Towns, pp. 9-11. 29 Mclnnes, English Towns, p. 6; Chalklin, Provincial Towns, pp. 20, 22. 30 Tour, II, 262. 31 Corfield, English Towns, pp. 99-105; Patten, English Towns, pp. 125-35. 32 P. Clark, 'Migration in England During the Late Seventeenth and Early Eighteenth Centuries', Past and Present, No. 83 (1979), pp. 65-7; Wrigley, 'Simple Model of London's Importance', pp. 48-9.

Urban Development in the Age of Defoe village society with a dearth of brides.33

203

4

From the late seventeenth century, the fortunes of English towns improved decisively as they entered a new phase of sustained development. Why did this happen? The underlying reason was the new current of prosperity that began to flow through post-Restoration England, as it began to diverge from the structural economic problems experienced in Europe as a whole.34 This, along with other political and social factors, enhanced the demand for urban services in the fields of distribution, production, administration and consumption. Together these four functions, several or all of which an individual town might sustain, formed the matrix of urban revival. With his commercial background, it was natural that Defoe should share the merchant's mental view of the economy. Trade was the nation's greatest creative asset. As he argued in The Complete English Tradesman, 'an estate's a pond, but trade's a spring . . . an inexhausted current, which not only fills the pond, and keeps it full, but is continually running over, and fills all the lower ponds and places about it'.35 Therefore, what captured his imagination about towns was their distributive role, their function as miniature economic pumps which propelled goods to and fro along the commercial arteries of Britain and the world. The most important aspect of this role related to internal trade, which was expanding substantially in the period. It is suggested that in the road carrying industry the output of scheduled services more than doubled between 1637 and 1715, with the bulk of the improvement concentrated in the years after 1680. Quite apart from the general rise in the level of economic activity, the reasons for this acceleration in internal trade were threefold. Firstly, there was the increasingly Gargantuan appetite of London. The sheer concentration of humanity in the

33

D. Souden, 'Migrants and the Population Structure of Later Seventeenth-Century Provincial Cities and Market Towns', English Provincial Towns, ed. Clark, pp. 133-68; R. A. Pelham, 'The Immigrant Population of Birmingham, 1686-1726', Transactions of the Birmingham Archaeological Society, LXI (1940), 45-80; E. J. Buckatzsch, 'Places of Origin of a Group of Immigrants into Sheffield, 1624-1799', Ec.H.R., 2nd ser., II (1949-50), 303-6; J. R. Holman, 'Apprenticeship as a Factor in Migration: Bristol, 1675-1726', Bristol and Gloucestershire Archaeological Journal, XCVII (1980), 85-92. 34 D. C. Coleman, The Economy of England, 1450-1750 (1977), chapters 6-11; C. H. Wilson, England's Apprenticeship, 1603-1763 (1965), chapters 7-16. 3D D. Defoe, The Complete English Tradesman (first published 1725-7, this edn., New York, 1970), p. 245. 36 J. A. Chartres, 'Road Carrying in England in the Seventeenth Century: Myth and Reality', Ec.H.R., 2nd ser., XXX (1977), 76-81;J. A. Chartres, Internal Trade in England, 1500-1700 (1977).

204 Britain in the First Age of Party metropolis led to the emergence of a wide-ranging distributive network to supply the prodigious quantities of food, fuel and raw materials required. Central to the operation of this system was a whole body of market towns and ports, many of which came to specialise in the role of entrepot between country and capital.37 Defoe wrote of Maidstone, situated on the navigable Medway, that 'from this town, and the neighbouring parts, London is supplied with more particulars than from any single market town in England', noting amongst other products, the 'very great quantities of fruit, such as Kentish pippins, runnets, etc. which come up as the cherries do, whole hoy-loads at a time to the wharf, called the Three Cranes, in London'.38 A second reason for the expansion in inland trade was growing regional economic specialisation.39 This led to a greater demand for marketing services to export the surplus specialised product and to import the generality of goods which the area was no longer able to provide for itself. Thirdly, the passage of inland trade was eased, and its pace accelerated, by improvements in commercial and transport facilities. The extent of navigable inland waterways rose from 685 miles between 1600 and 1660 to 1,160 miles by the publication of Defoe's Tour, while turnpike acts were introduced from the 1660s and by the mid eighteenth century had been applied to most of England's network of trunkroads. Shipping facilities were also enhanced. The period between 1695 and 1725 has been called 'one in which port improvements really began in earnest', notably with the introduction of the first wet docks at Rotherhithe (1700), Liverpool (1715) and Bristol (1717).41 Higher investment in port buildings and technology also promoted overseas trade. The value of the latter multiplied at least threefold between 1650 and 1750, with an initial surge during the so called 'commercial revolution' of Charles II's reign. Originally, the fruits of this growth were focused heavily on London (during 1699-1701 it handled three-quarters of English overseas trade by value), but from the turn of the century provincial ports such as Bristol, Liverpool, Whitehaven and Hull, began to share more fully in the bonanza, slowly

37

A. Everitt, 'The Food Market of the English Town, 1660-1760', Third International Conference of Economic History (Amsterdam, 1965), pp. 61-2. 3 * Tour, I, 113-14. 39 Wilson, England's Apprenticeship, chapter 14; Everitt, 'Food Market', p. 66. 40 Chartres, Inland Trade, chapter 3; T. S. Willan, River Navigation in England, 16001760 (Oxford, 1936), p. 133; W. Albert, The Turnpike Road System in England, 1663-1840 (Cambridge, 1972), pp. 14-56; Defoe, Tour, II, 117-34. 41 D. Swann, 'The Pace and Progress of Port Investment in England, 1660-1830', Yorkshire Bulletin of Economic and Social Research, XII (1960), 33-5. 42 Coleman, Economy of England, pp. 133-45; The Growth of English Overseas Trade in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries, ed. W. E. Mmchinton (1969), pp. '5-32, 78-120.

Urban Development in the Age of Defoe 205 43 eroding the metropolis's dominance. In servicing domestic and overseas trade, two types of towns benefited especially; those which were important regional centres, particularly in areas of specialised economic development, and those which lay astride major sea-ways, navigable rivers and roads. Defoe is notably astute in assessing the influence of the second of these factors. In a revealing analysis of the river system emanating from the Wash, he shows in detail how 'the merchants of [King's Lynn] supply about six counties wholly, and three counties in part, with their goods, especially wine and coals'. For modern man, towns and industrial production are inseparably linked together. But in early modern England much basic manufacturing took place in the countryside.45 In a number of trades, such as textiles and metalwares, this led to the development of specialised rural-industrial regions. When, in the post-Restoration years, several of these underwent rapid growth, their towns benefited initially more as service centres than places of production. Take the case of the West Riding. Such a high proportion of the region's labour force were engaged in the expanding cloth trade that, as Defoe noted, 'they must then necessarily have their provisions from other parts of the country'. Thus Halifax and Leeds emerged as major provisions markets drawing food-stuffs from the East and North Riding, Lancashire, Lincolnshire, Cheshire and Warwickshire. Leeds also accommodated a huge weekly textiles market, 'a prodigy of its kind . . . not to be equalled in the world', where the town's gentlemen merchants purchased the area's woven cloths.46 However, the direct impact of industrial production on the town must not be ignored. Already, by Defoe's time, the economic rationale of centralised production was making considerable headway. In the textile industry, the finishing processes were frequently located in urban centres,47 as was weaving in certain regions. Defoe was surprised how empty Norwich was on a working day, 'the inhabitants being all at their manufactures . . . in their garrets at their looms, and in the counting-

Corfield, English Towns, pp. 34-5, 71-2; Wilson, England's Apprenticeship, pp. 2734. 44 Tour, I, 73. See also his description of the river systems focused on Bristol and Hull, II, 36-7, 244. 45 Joan Thirsk, 'Industries in the Countryside', Essays in the Economic and Social History of Tudor and Stuart England, ed. F. J. Fisher (Cambridge, 1961), pp. 70-88; D. C. Coleman, Industry in Tudor and Stuart England (1975), pp. 23-34; D. Hey, The Rural Metalworkers of the Sheffield Region (Leicester, 1972); M. Rowlands, Masters and Men in the West Midlands metalware trades before the Industrial Revolution (Manchester, 1975). 46 Tour, II, 193-208. See also R. Thoresby, Ducatus Leodiensis; or, the Topography of the Ancient and Populous Town and Parish of Leeds (first published 1724, 2nd edn., Leeds, 1816); Wilson, Gentlemen Merchants. See for example the description of Exeter in The Journeys of Celia Fiennes, ed. C. Morns (1947), pp. 246-7.

206 Britain in the First Age of Party shops . . . twisting mills, and other work-houses'. Almost 40 per cent of the freemen registered in the 1715 poll book were described as weavers, and over a half of those admitted to the city's freedom in the early eighteenth century were engaged in the production of worsted stuffs. Among the most important industrial centres were the ports. Naturally, they were heavily involved in shipbuilding and maintenance. London and the east coast were the most important areas of construction, with the emphasis increasingly turning towards the North East.49 Because of their ready access to water-based transport, ports were also a favourable location for industries using heavy raw materials, especially coal. At Newcastle Defoe noted 'two articles of trade which are particularly occasioned by the coals . . . are glass-houses and salt pans'. In the 1730s, the city had at least seven of the former, while during the early eighteenth century nearby Shields was one of the major centres of salt production in the country. At Bristol Defoe found 'no less than fifteen glass-houses . . . more than are in the city of London', and the port also accommodated brass and copper works, potteries, sugar and tobacco refineries, distilleries and breweries.50 Finally, in assessing the impact of production on the urban economy, we must not forget the individually small but collectively enormous contribution (largely ignored by Defoe) of the craft industries, such as those of leather and metalworking, construction and food processing. As one historian has remarked, the 'craftsman's shop was the hallmark of the Hanoverian county town'.51 It is tempting to see the pre-industrial urban body pulsating largely to the rhythm of the market-place and workshop. But this overlooks the more complex and sophisticated functions which towns fulfilled. One of these, that expanded rapidly during Defoe's lifetime, was that of administration. Many county towns were diocesan capitals, attracting a stream of visitors on religious business and supporting a substantial colony of well-heeled clergymen. Such towns were also often centres of a trade that Geoffrey Holmes has recently shown nourished during the

48

Tour, I, 63; calculated from details of the Norwich poll book in W. A. Speck, Tory and Whig (1970), pp. 119-20; Corfield, 'A Provincial Capital', p. 276. 49 Defoe, Tour, I, 40-3, 347-8; II, 147; R. Davis, The Rise of the English Shipping Industry in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries (2nd impression, Newton Abbot, 1972), pp. 61-6. 50 Tour, II, 115, 151; Bourne, Newcastle, p. 155, 178; J. Ellis, The Decline and Fall of the Tyneside Salt Industry: A Re-examination', Ec.H.R., 2nd ser., XXXIII (1980), 4552; W. E. Minchinton, 'Bristol - Metropolis of the West in the Eighteenth Century', T.R.Hist. S., 5th ser., IV (1954), 76-8. See also T. C Barker, 'Lancashire Coal, Cheshire Salt, and the Rise of Liverpool', Transactions of the Historic Society of Lancashire and Cheshire, CIII (1951), 83-101. 51 Everitt, 'Country, County and Town', p. 100; L. A. Clarkson, The Pre-Industrial Economy in England, 1500-1750 (1971), pp. 79-92; Patten, English Towns, pp. 160-71.

Urban Development in the Age of Defoe 207 52 Augustan period, that of the law. At Preston, the home of the Duchy of Lancaster courts, the legal profession created a formidable impact. The Tour comments on how 'the town is full of attorneys, proctors and notaries', and the town's Guild Roll of 1742 records 17 attorneys or counsellors at law among the in-burgesses. Provincial attorneys frequently provided monetary as well as legal services. However, the centre of the kaleidoscopic world of postRevolution financial administration was London. The founding of the Bank of England in 1694 symbolised the emergence of a more specialised and sophisticated banking system, catering like Hoare's, Child's and Gosling's for the specific requirements of the aristocracy and gentry for deposit facilities and mortgages, or like the Lombard Street bankers for the commercial sector's needs for discounting bills, investment and currency issue. War finance stimulated the development of a large new market in company stocks and the formation of the first Stock Exchange, attracting a stream of investors and turning the City into a gambler's paradise. For those seeking to avoid risks, there were the nascent life, marine and fire insurance agencies. Defoe singled out the four principal ones as the Royal Exchange Ensurance (founded 1720), the London Ensurers (1720), the Hand in Hand Fire Office (already in existence in the 1690s) and the still surviving Sun Fire Office (1710).54 In Augustan England, politics and party conflict were a consuming passion. London was naturally the administrative hub of the political system, with the Court at St James's, the Houses of Parliament at Westminster and an undergrowth of coffee-houses dotted around the West End.55 But provincial towns also played a prominent role in the political process. Four fifths of parliamentary constituencies were based on boroughs and the remaining county seats were often organised from and declared in shire towns. With an expanding electorate, more frequent elections and more contested seats, urban centres found their political services increasingly called upon, at least until calmer years set in from the 1720s.56 One of the most significant developments in the body politic was the growth in government itself. From the latter part of Charles It's reign, there was an unparalleled increase in the civil service. By the time of the Tour, this numbered over 12,000 permanent 52 G. S. Holmes, 'The Professions and Social Change in England, 1680-1730', Proceedings of the British Academy, LXV (1979), pp. 325-7; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 321-4; idem, Augustan England. Professions, State and Society, 1680-1730(1982), pp. 115-65. 53 Tour, II, 268; Preston Town Hall, Preston Corporation MSS., Guild Roll (1742). 54 Wilson, England's Apprenticeship, pp. 313-36; Tour, I, 336-41; P. G. M. Dickson, The Financial Revolution in England (1967). 55 Holmes, British Politics, pp. 22-3. 56 Speck, Tory and Whig; G. S. Holmes, The Electorate and the National Will in the First Age of Party (Lancaster, 1975); Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 1-33.

208 Britain in the First Age of Party employees and many more auxiliaries, a substantial number of whom worked in London and swelled its professional ranks. Among the key departments was that of the Excise (by the 1720s over 40 per cent of government income was derived from this source), whose head office was located in a former London merchant's house, where Defoe found 'managed an immense weight of business . . . they have in their pay . . . near four thousand officers'.57 The principal reason for the growth in government bureaucracy was the need to administer and finance the most expensive series of wars Britain had ever been engaged in, those against Louis XIV. Military conflict was directly responsible for one of the more dramatic examples of urban development, the growth of the naval dockyard towns. Chatham's population rose from perhaps 3,000 inhabitants in 1670 to 5,000 by 1700; Portsmouth (with its new dockyard suburb of Portsea) from 3,500 in 1664 to about 10,000 by the 1740s; and at Plymouth the adjacent settlement of Dock (later renamed Devonport), which was founded in 1689, boasted over 3,000 souls by the 1730s. Of the latter Defoe observed that, 'the late King William ordered a wet dock, with yards. . . The building of these things . . . brought abundance of trades people, and workmen to the place . . . so many houses are since added . . . it is become a considerable town'.58 One of the most unexplored functions of towns is their role as centres of consumption. Here we are not concerned with the distribution of basic necessities but rather the provision and sale of luxury and semiluxury goods, services and facilities. The demand for these rose considerably in Augustan England as the number of people able to command spare or surplus income expanded, particularly amongst the middling and professional ranks.59 The outcome was what has been called 'a consumer boom', which by the second half of the eighteenth century had 'reached revolutionary proportions'.60 Towns, especially those in the higher echelons of the urban hierarchy, were to play a critical role in stimulating and supplying this revolution. 57

Tour, 1, 340; Holmes, Augustan England, pp. 239-61; J. V. Beckett, 'Land Tax or Excise: The Levying of Taxation in Seventeenth and Eighteenth-Century England', E.H.R., C (1985), 306. 58 Tour, I, 105-8, 138-9, 230-1; Chalklin, Provincial Towns, pp. 23-4, 122-8; Corfield, English Towns, pp. 44-6; D. C. Coleman, 'Naval Dockyards under the Later Stuarts', pp. 134-55; C. W. Chalklin, Seventeenth-Century Kent (first published 1965, reprinted Rochester, 1978), pp. 31, 140-6; A. T. Patterson, Portsmouth: A History (Bradford-onAvon, 1967), pp. 52-8. Defoe was probably referring to a dry dock at Dock. See W. G. Hoskins, Devon (1954), p. 114. 59 G. S. Holmes, 'Gregory King and the Social Structures of Pre-Industrial England', T.R.Hist.S., 5th ser., XXVII (1977), 56-7; idem, 'The Professions and Social Change', pp. 318-23; Holmes, Politics, Religion and Society, pp. 296-7, 314-19. 60 N. McKendrickJ. Brewer and J. H. Plumb, The Birth oj'a Consumer Society (1983), p. 9.

Urban Development in the Age of Defoe 209 The development of a consumer dimension to the urban economy can be seen in the widening range of small craft and retail businesses. At Northampton the number of different occupations listed in the apprenticeship registers grew from 45 in the years 1562 to 1601, to 83 between 1645 and 1705 and 114 between 1716 and 1776; at Bath from 42 in the period 1724 to 1737, to 53 between 1751 and 1760; while Campbell's London Tradesman published in 1747 records over 300 separate types of employment.61Such diversity was the product not only of the subdivision of older crafts but also the appearance of a myriad of relatively novel and sophisticated ones, like those involved with the making of watches, clocks, guns, fancy wrought-iron work, furniture, upholstery, coaches, millinery and jewelry, or with printing and selling books. In consumer orientated trades of this type, presentation and marketing were as important as manufacturing. Thus the urban high street began to sport the seductive charms of what we today would recognise as shops. Defoe claimed that it was a 'modern custom . . . to have tradesmen lay out two thirds of their fortune in fitting up their shops . . . in painting and gilding, in fine shelves, shutters, pediments, columns . . . and the like', and warned against 'every false light, every artificial side-window, sky-light and trunk-light we see made, to show the fine hollands, lawns, cambrics etc. to advantage, and to deceive the buyer'.63 The efflorescence of the town's craft economy was closely paralleled by the development of its service sector, where the consumer was catered for as never before. Lawyers and medical practitioners plied their trade in growing numbers and with greater professional competence and sophistication. There was a 'remarkable expansion of innkeeping between Queen Elizabeth's reign and George Ill's', many establishments by the latter period being built on a palatial scale and offering a galaxy of services. At Northampton the number of inns rose from 17 in 1577 to 62 by George II's reign, Defoe describing one of the latter, the George, as 'more like a palace than an inn, and cost above 20001. building'. Though 61 A. Everitt, Ways and Means in Local History (1971), pp. 35-8; figures for Bath calculated from R. S. Neale, Bath, 1680-1850: a Social History (1981), pp. 54-5; R. Campbell, The London Tradesman (first published 1747, reprinted Newton Abbot, 1969), pp. 331-40. 62 P. Borsay, 'The English Urban Renaissance: The Development of Provincial Urban Culture,