463. Mad Elections (Part 1)
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Whatever you're in the mood for, find the detail that moves you with curated touches at the Chase Sapphire Lounge by the club. Chase, make more of what's yours. Learn more at chase.com slash sapphirereserve. Cards issued by JPMorgan Chase Bank and a member FDIC. Subject to credit approval. Is everything ready? Said the Honorable Samuel Sumkey to Mr. Perker. Everything, my dear sir, was the little man's reply.

"'Nothing has been omitted, I hope,' said the Honourable Samuel Slumkey. "'Nothing has been left undone, my dear sir, nothing whatever. There are twenty washed men at the street door for you to shake hands with, and six children in arms that you ought to pat on the head and inquire the age of. Be particular about the children, my dear sir. It always has a great effect, that sort of thing.' "'I'll take care,' said the Honourable Samuel Slumkey. "'And perhaps, my dear sir,' said the cautious little man, "'perhaps if you could—'

I don't mean to say it's indispensable, but if you could manage to kiss one of them, it would produce a very great impression on the crowd. Wouldn't it have as good an effect if the proposer or seconder did that? Said the Honourable Samuel Slumkey. Why, I'm afraid it wouldn't, replied the agent. If it were done by yourself, my dear sir, I think it would make you very popular. Oh, very well, said the Honourable Samuel Slumkey, with a resigned air. Then it must be done. That's all. Arrange the procession, cried the twenty committee men.

there was a moment of awful suspense as the procession waited for the honourable samuel slumkey to step out of his carriage suddenly the crowd set up a great cheering he's come out said little mr perker greatly excited the more so as their position did not enable them to see what was going forward another cheer much louder

"'He has shaken hands with the men!' cried the little agent. Another cheer, far more vehement. "'He has patted the babes on the head!' said Mr. Perker, trembling with anxiety. A roar of applause rent the air. "'He's kissed one of them!' exclaimed the delighted little man. A second roar. "'He's kissed another!' gasped the excited manager. A third roar.

He's kissing them all, screamed the enthusiastic little gentleman. And hailed by the deafening shouts of the multitude, the procession moved on. So Domini, that was the Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens, which he wrote in 1836. Yeah. So that is four years after the Great Reform Bill had widened the franchise. Yes. And that is a description of an election in the East Anglian town of Eaton Swill. Yes.

which is a very Dickensian name. I think it's based on Bury St Edmunds. Dickens himself had been a parliamentary reporter and all through his life he never stinted in his contempt for politicians, MPs, Parliament elections. I guess that in that way he stands at a tradition that's still going strong today because here we are in the midst of a parliamentary election and

And we thought it would be fun to look at the history of election campaigns, didn't we? We did indeed. We did indeed. So the Honourable Samuel Slumkey, he sounds like a much more natural campaigner than Rishi Sunak or Kit Starmer. So he's a bit hesitant about the baby kissing at first, but then he's clearly thrown himself into it. Oh, completely. Yeah. So he's the Tory in that. He's up against a liberal. And he wins. Does Samuel Slumkey win? Yeah, he does win. Who's Mr. Pickwick favouring in this Samuel Slumkey?

I think they can't decide. Yeah. They're favouring whichever party of supporters they mix up with because the supporters are quite violent. Of course they are. Which is basically the theme of today's episode, isn't it? It is the theme of today's episode. Yeah, because elections were so, I mean, in Dickens' time, elections were so colourful. And the Pickwick paper is probably the most famous description of an election. That's sort of carnival-esque. Yeah. There's booze, there's ribbons, there's

There's crowds, there's babies. It's like a huge public event and great excitement. And it's great fun. I think it's much more fun than a modern election, don't you? I mean, there is an element of management, but it's not as bland as a modern election. I mean, the electorate is smaller, even with the Great Reform Act, which widens the franchise. And so that means there can be much more targeted bribery. They can, yeah. So I think if you're a voter...

That must make it more fun. There's bribery. There's enormous hooliganism, which we're getting stuck into. Lots of beer. Yeah. And there's also people being shot in the face. Okay, that's less fun if you get shot in the face. That's right. But we're going to be getting onto that in due course. So we thought we'd do this episode about the sort of the riotous history of general elections. So general elections in the more distant past, and then we'll do one on more recent elections. So today's is the deep history, isn't it? The deep history. So, do you know, the first elections are actually quite

So the first parliament, people, when they talk about parliament, they say, well, the first parliament was 1236, 1237. But there's no commons in that parliament. So that's basically a gathering of barons approving taxes. You probably get the first elections as early as 1265.

And actually this is, it's called Simon de Montfort's Parliament. So Simon de Montfort's the kind of overmighty baron who challenges Henry III. He ends up castrated. Yes, he does. It's good to get that in early. He basically summons a parliament, a big council of people to approve his policies. And a parliament is where people talk, ballet. Yes, exactly. And he's unusual. He gets the nobility and the churchmen, but he also gets burgesses. So basically town bigwigs, burgesses.

but commoners from all the major towns, so York and Lincoln and so on, and summons them to London. And we don't know how they were chosen, but they were chosen somehow.

Now, it wasn't democratic and there probably wasn't a contest because they were basically chosen because they would do Simon de Montfort's bidding. But that principle of the major town, people will actually choose somebody to represent them in London and agree to taxes. And even then, it's about taxes, right? It's always about taxes. So...

That's why when we did our series on the American Revolution, that's at the heart of the American Revolution. So on the one hand, you have people who say, listen, Parliament has always had the right to levy taxes. That is one of the cornerstones, if you can have multiple cornerstones, of the English Constitution. And on the other hand, you have the American revolutionaries who say, hey,

But the point is the town sends somebody to parliament and we haven't sent anybody. So taxation without representation. Exactly. So taxation is always there. But this idea that people will be chosen somehow in some obscure way. And actually, the truth of it is that from that point onwards, all the way through to, let's say, the dawn of political parties. So that's the reign of Charles II and then his successors, the Whigs and the Tories. So in that intervening period, which is what, 400 years or so, we don't actually really know.

how people were chosen. It's very confused. It's very mysterious. Basically, what will happen is every now and again, the king will send a writ to two different places, to the counties and to the boroughs. And he'll say, I want you to send two MPs to parliament. And how they choose them, there's no law. There's no set rules.

So it's basically local custom that determines it. And actually, you would think that people are always saying, oh, let's have open contests, let's have more and more people choosing. But no. Not at all. The gist of it is people say, well, too many people are choosing. I was just thinking about that, the idea that shrinking the electorate

is democratic. This is my policy, Tom. But if you think today, there's kind of arguments about how party leaders are chosen. Yeah. And at the moment it's party members and it's not the MPs. And there's a real movement to say, actually, it should just be MPs because party members are all mad by definition because they're party members. Yeah. Who joins a political party? So they shouldn't be allowed anywhere near an election. Exactly. So it's a bit like that, isn't it? It is a bit. So in 1429, I read, there's a brilliant essay on this by a guy called Neil Johnston from the House of Commons Library.

And he says that in 1429, the commons actually presented a petition to the king, to King Henry VI. And they said, an excessive number of people are deciding who the MPs are. And the greater part of these people are people of little or no means. And these people pretend to have an equivalent voice as the most worthy knights or esquires dwelling in the same counties. In other words, like upstarts. People have no consequence, Tom. Yeah, well...

Do you know, Dominic, whenever I read about kind of medieval or early modern elections, I always think they sound much more fun and that we should go back to organizing like that. Definitely much better. So there sort of emerges a consensus that basically you don't get to vote really unless you own a freehold

So you have property worth 40 shillings or more in land in a particular place. And Dominic, that might mean that a woman could vote. Right. Well, this is a fascinating thing. So under the Tudors and the Stuarts, it is perfectly possible. We don't know for sure, but it is possible that women could have voted. I think it's generally held to be likely, isn't it? Yeah. I think because, for example, if you have a rich widow who owns property, it is

It's perfectly possible that she could have voted. And some people think, well, maybe the way it worked was, you know, in places where people were suspicious of a woman voting, she would take a lodger and basically he would vote for her or she would lend her vote to somebody in some way. So there's that. So first of all, it's not certain that it was actually just men. So you've got two kinds of seats, counties and boroughs. And in the counties, we've said you have to have property worth 40 shillings.

Now, in a borough, it is totally random. So that's basically a town. It's completely mad and random. Well, as someone from Salisbury, Sarum. Yeah. New Sarum, but we have old Sarum outside it. Yeah. It's the most famous of all rotten boroughs. Well, we'll get to rotten boroughs in a second. Oh, sorry. I'm jumping the gun here. That's all right. But it's my over-excitement at the fact that Salisbury is going to feature it. Of course. I know you love Wiltshire and the Salisbury area generally. There's no question about that. So here are some fun complications.

So first of all, there are boroughs that are called Scott and Lott boroughs. Brilliant. So Tom, this is a borough where you're liable to a Scott of a Lott. I think that clarifies. Of course. That clarifies things. Okay. What does that mean? So a Scott is like a payment and a Lott is a share. So it's not if you keep a Scotsman.

No, this is a very bad thing in Scotland a lot because it means you have to pay a share of the local church and poor relief tax rates. So then you get to vote. I wouldn't mind doing that. Compassionate person. Then there's a pot walloper borough, right? And a pot walloper borough, you're a householder. You're not on welfare. You're not on benefits. They don't make any claim on poor relief. And you have your own hearth on which you can wallop a potluck.

a pot. And that means to boil a pot. Do you have to wallop a pot? Is this kind of part of the ritual, part of the election fun? You get out your pot and wallop it. You have to demonstrate that you can boil a kettle. Yeah, exactly. Then slightly more boringly, there's corporation boroughs. So this basically is very corrupt. This is where the corporation of a town, the people who are basically the town council or whatever, they choose the MPs and they can give no consideration whatsoever to the residents.

And there, the corporation is self-sustaining. So in other words, it's like a closed oligarchy. When somebody dies or whatever, the corporation effectively choose who replaces them. So if you have somewhere like, the good example is Tiverton. It's Devon, isn't it, Tiverton? Yeah, it is in Devon. So there, before the Great Reform Act that you mentioned at the beginning, there were 10,000 residents, but only 25 of them could vote, and they were the corporation. And basically, the corporation usually did the bidding of the local landowner. So that's a corporation borough.

And then my favorite of all these complicated things is the faggot vote. So this will be of interest to our American listeners. It definitely will be. So the faggot vote, basically what happens there is you, Tom Holland, own a 40 shilling freehold. You own some land in Wiltshire, let's say. Right. You know, you're rewilding some land in Wiltshire, Tom, for example. Yeah. And that would give you a vote. Now.

You might subdivide your land up into parcels and sell them off and say, these are all 40 shilling freeholds. But you would basically do a deal with the people who buy them. You're creating more voters, but they will vote as you instruct them. Brilliant. I'm all in favour of that. So that was outlawed by the Splitting Act of 1696, but people ignored that.

and carried on creating faggot voters. Woke Tosh. That's the bulldog spirit. Exactly. So this is the kind of stuff that maybe reform could bring back in. Right, yes. Properly turn the clock back to a more organic voting system that better reflects the sensibilities of the British people.

The organic traditions of the mother of parliament. Exactly. Also, just to ask, don't Oxford and Cambridge have MPs as well? Yes, they do. They're the only ones, only universities. But that goes right the way up, I think, to the 20th century. Yes, to the Second World War thereabouts, I think that Oxford and Cambridge had MPs. I mean, that is mad. Now, you mentioned Rotten Burrows and Old Sarum.

Yeah. So for people who don't know, what is Old Sarum? So Old Sarum is an Iron Age hill fort, and then it became a Roman town, and then it became an Anglo-Saxon centre for moneyers, so coining, and then it became a Norman stronghold. Yeah. And they built the first Salisbury Cathedral there, but it wasn't very convenient because it didn't have water supply. So basically there were limitations to how large it could grow. And so they moved down to where the cathedral currently stands, the new cathedral. Yeah. And Old Sarum was kind of left as a historical antiquity.

So Constable famously painted it. So it's basically like a dead town, like a ghost town almost.

It's not even that. There's nothing there. Yeah, there's very little there. I mean, it's kind of chunks of castle or whatever, but the cathedral has completely vanished. You can just see the outline. Yeah. It's fabulous. So Old Sarum, when it was a thing, Old Sarum had been given the right to send two MPs to Parliament in 1295, but obviously it declines and declines and declines. But when you've got that right, you never lose it. Right. So basically there's nobody living there, but they're still sending two MPs. And this is obviously demented, but

But you can't change it, Tom. Well, you say that, but why do you hate Britain, Dominic? Yeah. So there's a wonderful description of the election in 1802. The election was held in a booth in a cornfield under a tree which marked the former boundary of the town. I think this is everything about Mary England, and I'm amazed you're against it. And the source says, not a vestige of which the town has been standing in the memory of man, being now without a dwelling for a human being. So there are five electors that...

They are the Reverend Dr. Skinner, the Reverend Mr. Burrow, Mr. William Dyke, Mr. Massey, and Mr. Brunsden. The Reverend Skinner nominates two potential MPs, and he says their conduct will give satisfaction to honour to their constituents, who don't really exist. Well, the five of them do. Now, the other electors agree to this, the other four people. They say, brilliant, let's send these two guys, and they get two MPs. This is in an era when Manchester...

Has no MPs at all. Yeah, well, I think sensible policies for a happier Britain. Now, this election, which is very Pickwickian, very Dickensian, this was actually being controlled. It had been bought by the Earl of Caledon.

He had bought the land and basically he had installed the electors and he is supposed to have paid £60,000 for it. And that's the equivalent. I checked at their website measuring worth, which is kind of academic calculator. That's the equivalent of about £80 million today. So in other words, he's a super rich magnate who has paid £80 million for two MPs. Now he has them in his pocket.

Yeah, now he has them in his pocket, exactly. But, I mean, obviously our subject is elections. There are lots of proper elections because at the point where you get party politics, so the Whigs and the Tories, and we can go on to talk a little bit maybe about what the Whigs and the Tories are, there are probably about 200,000 people who can vote. So there are 200,000 of these freeholders and whatnot.

And there's a brilliant, brilliant online project done by the University of Newcastle on 18th century political culture. And there's an opening essay by Dr. Hilary Burlock, which lays out exactly how an 18th century or late 17th century election would work.

So basically, Parliament is dissolved and the Lord Chancellor sends out writs for a new Parliament. And it's a very sort of chaotic and confused picture because the elections are decided kind of locally and they can happen at different times. And often they can happen over different days. So it's a big nominating meeting. And if there are more than two candidates, then basically everyone's like, yes, we're going to have an election.

So then they just start throwing massive banquets and feasts. They offer what are treats, treating. Obviously, the thing in the Pickwick Papers is a treat. And treating is probably the central element of an election campaign. It's basically big open-air street parties, sausage rolls, beer, beer.

This would be illegal now. I haven't really thought that through. The idea of going to a treat organised by Keir Starmer would fill me with such gloom, Tom. I don't know. I'd go to them all. Would you? Spit roasting a hog. They wouldn't be, though, would they? Come on. The Labour Party aren't going to be spit roasting a hog. Rolling out barrels of beer. That's reform. That's Farage's treat. LAUGHTER

Yeah, well, I think that might help him sweep to power. I mean, that's basically him posing with his beard, which he always does. Yeah, that's in the tradition, isn't it? That's a kind of vestige in a weird way of this. And like Ed Davey going on his log flumes and falling off paddle boards. Again, the Liberal Democrat leader. Well, we'll be coming to that. But I just wonder whether this whole thing of you have a massive street party for people.

I mean, presumably that can't be legal anymore. People would do it. It would probably be considered bribery. I don't think you're allowed to give anything. There were various bribery acts to try and get around all this. But what they would do is, for example, the

the parties would sell goods. So they'd say, well, we're not bribing anybody. We're actually selling things. But they'd sell them at massive discounts so that you would be getting stuff like a quarter of the price. So it kind of is bribery, but disguised. And they would go around. They'd give everybody in the town ribbons and cockades and all different colors. There's no set colors. You would choose colors yourself, really.

In the American Revolutionary period, the colors associated with the American Revolution, I read a blue and buff. So Charles James Fox, who's very keen on the American Revolution, he wears blue and buff, but his opponent, Sir Cecil Ray, wears green instead. So it's just totally random.

The election starts when you open the polls. So what this means is there's a big sort of hustings. So it's big and it's kind of open air. Often the sheriff or the mayor or some local grandee reads the writ of election to a big crowd. And then the way it works, let's say you want to vote, Tom, you're in Wiltshire. Yeah. And I've banged my pot or whatever it is you do. Yes, exactly. You've walloped your pot. Yeah.

And you're surrounded by your faggot voters. Yeah. So the way it works is you would have to go and you'd have to give your vote orally for everyone to hear. Oh, so everyone would know who I'd voted for. Yeah. And you have two votes, except if you're in London, where you have four votes, or if you're in Appingdon, where you have one, for reasons that are unclear. Right. Unclear. Yeah.

So you have your two votes. Now, there were tickets. So people would say the wig men are Dalrymple and Young Smith or whatever. And you could choose to go down the wig ticket or you could split your vote or you could say only one of those men is suitable to be voted for.

So I will only use one vote. The other man is not worth my while. So I guess that explains the whole bribery thing, because if everyone knows who you're voting for, then you can't just go around and, you know. No, not at all. Now, obviously, the crowd are hooting and roaring and throwing things and stuff. Throwing dead cats. Right. There's quite a lot of dead cat action, isn't there, at this point? If you like dead cats, this is the podcast for you. So you would come up in what was called a tally.

and a tally is maybe 10 or 20 people, there would be a tally captain who would wear the colours of your candidates. So you'd say, I'm a wig man. And you'd get together with the wig tally, there'd be a tally captain, and he would lead you. He might have a banner, he might have a band, and you'd all go together, you know, as a group for safety, basically. Yeah. So that's the pickwick papers thing, the procession. They're all bunched together. Exactly. And that's why they have to sort the babies. Now, you might think this is a tremendous day.

You'd be wrong. It's not a tremendous day. It could be a tremendous month that this goes on for. Great. So in some places where there are a lot of voters, this would just go on and on and on. And they would almost sort of drag it out. In fact, dragging it out so far that in 1696...

parliament had to pass a law to say you've got to get this done and dusted in 40 days and who is who's in control of it the local sheriff or mayor or whatever the local authorities and so they supposedly are neutral but they're not yeah but obviously they're not neutral often as we will see so you've gone and you've done your voting at the end of the day the candidates come out and address the crowd you might think sensible to do at the beginning but no do it at the end they do at the end of the day they say thanks for everyone who voted for me the rest of you you know there's always tomorrow and

And then they would lead a procession, the rival candidates, with all their bands and all their banners to a tavern. So they'd generally be staying in a tavern in the town and each would have a different tavern as their headquarters. And then they'd go into the tavern, drink would be had, then they'd come out and they'd address the crowd again from a window. There'd be lots of cheering and bants. And presumably by this point, they're quite inebriated. Yeah, exactly so. Which always improves an election address. So on the last day of the election...

When everyone is voted or when we've got to the 40 days, the votes, they're all recorded in a book and they're counted.

And then the result is read out to this now gigantic crowd. And then, this is a strange detail, the winning candidates would be put on chairs and carried through the town. That's kind of fair enough. And there'd be great crowds following them. Some shouting abuse, some saying brilliant. I mean, quite risky, I'd have thought, if there's dead cat throwing and you're on a chair. Of course. Of course. You've got to be gutsy to do this. And you've got disappointed voters. Right. Right.

So by now, everyone would be absolutely hammered. Yeah. So there's that as well. So there'd be lots of fighting and there'd be people falling over. And then at the end, the detail that I like, you'd be carried back to your tavern and

And then the crowd would ritually tear apart the chair. Presumably to hit each other with. I don't know what they... So the thing is, as you might expect from this description of how voting works, there is enormous scope for fighting and bad behaviour. Yeah. I mean, it's basically like the Euros, isn't it? Yeah. Loads of rival drunk fans. Totally. England football fans would be in heaven with this. They could be singing all their songs, throwing stuff. It's

It's a rich carnivalesque tradition. That's exactly what it is. So there's loads of violence. There's loads of attacks on taverns. There's stones being hurled. There's people with flipping halberds. There's grenadiers. There's all this kind of stuff.

Basically, lots of hijinks, Tom. And I think what we could do in the second half, we're a bit of a match of the day podcast, aren't we? So we'll go with the edited highlights. I know you're gagging to hear all about the election of 1698. Terrible scenes in Coventry in 1705. Shocking business with the Liberals in Cheltenham in 1865. So we'll go all the way through, give you absolutely the tip-top highlights. And Tom, we'll do all that after the break. See you in a minute.

With an hour before boarding, there's only one place to go: the Chase Sapphire Lounge by the club. There, you can recharge before the big adventure, or enjoy a locally inspired dish. You can recline in a comfy chair to catch up on your favorite show, or order a craft cocktail at the bar.

Welcome back to The Rest is History. So let's start at the beginning of party politics. We're in the 1690s, the reign of William III.

People are talking now about Whigs and Tories. So Whigs, gosh, I have to explain Whigs. We often get asked this and it fills me with dread. Because it evolves, doesn't it? It does. The Whigs are kind of the Protestant succession, mercantile. They're back in the Glorious Revolution. They're back in the Glorious Revolution. Which has seen James II thrown out.

So essentially suspending the natural laws of succession. Yes, because they love a Protestant above all. And they are softer on dissent, on non-conformism, on kind of low church religion, and they despise nothing more than a papist. And Tories, they have a slight Jacobite tinge to them. So, I mean, even, you know, a century on, Dr. Johnson is a great Jacobite. King of the water. Yeah.

The king over the water, yes. And a supporter of the established church. Yeah. And Tories say, oh, the Whigs are terrible, metropolitan, they're interested in Europe, they are do-gooders, they're out of touch with the bottom, the common sense of old England. Yes. That's basically what a Tory says of a Whig. Whereas the Whigs say they're Tories, they're clapped out, red-faced old fools. I mean, the stereotype would be that you are a Tory and I am a Whig. It's not actually true, though, is it?

I don't think. No, it's not true, but that would be people's stereotype, I guess. This is the personas, Tom, that we've confected for the podcast, isn't it? I don't want to let too much light in, but yeah. I mean, a wig generally has the look of someone who eats too many vegetables. Yeah, absolutely. And a Tory has the look of someone who enjoys his beef. Yeah. So to that extent, that's the dynamic of the podcast.

Right. Anyway, we've explained that in a very ham-fisted way, but that's appropriate under the circumstances. So I'm a Whig, you're a Tory. Just keep that vaguely in your head. So 1698, there's an election. Basically, the Whigs are in and they're defending their position against the Tories who are out.

And out of 269 seats, 104 of them are contested. And we'll just look at one, which is Westminster. Westminster had a very big electorate. It had about 15,000 to 20,000 people. That's the biggest of the lot, isn't it? Yeah. And because it's the fulcrum of power, it's got parliament in it. Yes. That always adds an extra foesaw. So it's got parliament in it. It's very urban. And because it's so big, you can't manage it through bribery and patronage. So it's always contested. Now, traditionally, what would happen is the rival groups of political and

enthusiasts would assemble on what was called Tuttle Fields or Tothill Fields. This is a big open patch of ground and they would just have a massive fight. That's how it would work. I just think that would be brilliant. I mean, you could just put it on Sky Sports. Yeah, exactly. Stream it live. So you have two candidates who are Whigs in this election, Charles Montague and James Vernon. And I

Opposing them, of course, is a man with the ultimate kind of Tory stroke country name, which is Sir Henry Dutton Colt's baronet. No nonsense. Can I just ask, the two Whigs, they're not competing against each other. They're kind of running on a joint ticket, are they? Yeah. Remember, every seat has two MPs. Yeah. So they basically want to squeeze out Sir Henry Dutton Colt baronet. Is he the only Tory? Yes, he's the only guy. I think he's the only Tory running in that election.

And in fact, their party political allegiances are so fluid. So like a couple of years later, he's a wig or something. It's just bonkers. Yeah. He arrives with all his guys, some of whom were equipped with like a little knife or a cudgel or something. I mean, the Tory, you know, they're hunting, shooting, fishing. Yeah, absolutely. But he's behind the times. Vernon and Montague are much more modern because they arrive with, and I quote, a troop of several thousand horsemen. LAUGHTER

And they charge Sir Henry Desson Colt's men and drive them. And I quote, this is Vernon himself said, the Whig, you know, not so much a do-gooder. He said, my men ran down Colt's men at a strange rate and cuddled them into ditches full of water. And he was unrepentant about this, James Vernon. He said, Colt's supporters are, and I quote, the very scum of the town, victualers, porters, and chairmen.

So men who basically carry on a sedan chair. Yeah, well, fair enough. So it's very like people throwing milk at Nigel Farage. Well, actually, so after this, Sir Henry Dustin Colt Baronet, he lost. He finished 600 votes behind James Vernon and 800 votes behind Charles Montagu. And he petitioned Parliament to have the result cancelled. He said they had gone too far. One of his men had died from

from wounds inflicted during a cavalry charge. He said that Vernon and Montague had broken the rules, the accepted rules, by employing off-duty grenadiers against his men and that he himself had been threatened with pistols. I love it that there are rules that say you can't employ off-duty grenadiers. Yeah. Well, Parliament said no.

There's no such rule. Oh, right. This is all completely acceptable for a parliamentary campaign. So his petition was thrown out. But it actually wasn't the best thing that happened in 1698 because there are even more exciting scenes in Norfolk. So here, one of the MPs, this man called Sir Henry Hobart, another baronet, he's a Whig, he was knighted by Charles II when he was 13, very impressively. But he loses his seat in 1698 to two Tories because two Tories returned from Norfolk. And

And Sir Henry Hobart is absolutely furious at this. And he says, I know who's to blame. It's basically a guy who lives down the road, another landowner called Oliver Leneve. He's a dyed-in-the-wool Tory squire, spends all his time hunting and fishing. And Hobart is convinced that Leneve has been spreading rumours that he's a coward, specifically that he behaved in a cowardly manner at the Battle of the Boyne. And he says, this is absolutely disgrace. This is the only reason I lost this seat is because this Leneve has been spreading these rumours. Leneve says, I've never told anybody these things about you.

But Hobart won't accept it and challenges him to a duel because he's so upset at losing his seat. And of thinking that people are calling him a coward. So you challenge someone to a duel to prove your manhood. Yeah, your manhood. So for some obscure reason, they fight on a heath midway between their two houses, but with no seconds. I read that there was a servant girl hiding in the bush who was the only person to observe this. I don't know why she was hiding in the bush, but anyway. Hobart is a much more accomplished swordsman. So he clearly...

clearly thinks easy win and he's so fast he strikes first but his sword gets tangled in Leneve's coat and Leneve very unsentimentally immediately just runs him through in the stomach and Hobart dies so he's lost his seat and his life

And Lennieff fled to Holland, and then he returned after two years. He was acquitted. The jury acquitted him because they said he's a tremendous fellow. I think that reflects well on the jury. Do you know, that's the last duel in Norfolk history, Tom, and it's said. It is said.

That if you visit the heath, then sometimes at night you can hear ghostly swords clashing in the darkness. And perhaps see the servant girl hiding in a bush. Perhaps you can. So that's 1698. Would you like to hear about 1705? Yeah, I'd have to. So 1705, the sort of party politics is, it's only seven years on, but it's becoming a tiny bit more recognisable. It's becoming a little bit more proclamatory.

predictable. It's all about kind of the Tories say the Church of England is in danger from radicals and dissenters. The Whigs say, oh, the Tories are a bunch of Catholics. Terrible scenes. So at this point, it's not about tax. Well, it's partly about the War of the Spanish Succession, raising taxes for the war, all of that kind of thing. Oh, so it is still about tax. Yeah. So tax is always kind of lurking there. Tax and religion. Tax and culture wars. It's culture wars and tax. So when people say, oh, these terrible culture wars, what a terrible distraction from real things. That's tosh and rubbish.

Culture wars have always been at the absolute centre. So that kind of high church, low church thing, it absolutely feeds into the culture wars today. Totally it does. Yeah, absolutely. It's enduring.

So why not? Let's go to Coventry. Yeah, I love Coventry. Coventry is a big and bustling place in 1705. It's a big trading city and it's an absolute hotbed of religious dissent. So the politics of the town is dominated by Presbyterians, not Church of England. And as a result of that, it is a real weak stronghold. So not a place for a Tory. Not a place for a Tory. Or so you would think. Because in the run-up to this election, which is that summer,

There are weeks and weeks of clashes between rival Whig and Tory mobs. And I think because they are so outgunned in the town, the Tories just think, you know, we've got to do something special here. So there's going to be a three-day election in Coventry. And the night before it kicks off,

Hundreds of Tory supporters pour into the town armed with howl birds. That's very retro. Very retro. Exactly. Well, the Tories are quite retro, aren't they? I suppose. Yeah. Mary England, all that stuff. They march into the town and they seize the Guildhall. There's about 700 of them. And because they control the Guildhall, they've basically seized it from the authorities. So they can now run the election. They can run the election, which they do.

So as I read, those favouring the Tory candidates were admitted unhindered, but they were, and I quote, ready to eat anybody offering themselves for the wigs. So basically, all the people who say their Tory vote is fine. And if you're a wig, then you will be, this is a very strange thing, you will be, quote, horsed, viz, carried on men's shoulders upon cowl staff and dragged upon the ground. So I've discovered what that means. That means you'd be sort of tied to a stick.

like a big stick, and you'd be carried between two men. Like a kind of captured animal. Yeah, like a trust animal. And then they'd drag you on the ground. That's very Tory, isn't it? Hunters would do that. Exactly. Now, this was seen as going too far because actually two Tory candidates unsurprisingly won, but there was a massive kind of case that comes before Parliament. And in 1707, two years later, the election was declared void.

and their wigs win. So there are some standards. A jewel is fine. Grenadiers and cavalry charges are fine. The use of halberds... Halberds is not. Halberds is absolutely not fine. Which I suppose just proves, you know, the darkest Tory suspicions that England's going to the dogs. Totally, yeah. And that the good old traditions are being phased out by humorless prigs. Yeah.

Nanny state prigs. Nanny state prigs. That's exactly what it is. So now we could go through the whole 18th century like this and we'd be here till, you know, the crack of doom. Let's fast forward a bit to the 19th century.

So there's still a fair bit of violence, but it's slightly less mob and halberd and a bit more throwing dogs and bants, I think is fair to say, Tom. So this is the pick with papers era? This is the pick with papers era. So basically, whenever you turned out as an MP, if it was a contested election, people would throw at you stinking fish, dead dogs, cats and rats,

a candidate for Sussex in 1820, bombarded with the rotten eggs and dead cats of Chichester. There's tons of dead cats in kind of Regency England, early Victorian England. So what would you rather have thrown at you, a dead cat or rotten eggs? I think I'd take the egg.

I'm just imagining the feel of a dead cat on my face as it impacted. I think that's horrible. It actually gives me the chills to think of it, Tom. This is the kind of analysis you don't get on other podcasts. No way. No way. It's all those politics shows have been riding high during the election campaign. But they're not debating the issues that matter. No.

No. Where's the dead dogs? Where's the cats? Yeah. Where's the Bristol election of 1830? Where indeed, Dominic? Tell us about the Bristol election of 1830. So this is Hilary Burlough again. And Bristol, slave trade. Oh.

obviously a big issue and abolitionism a huge issue but here you get some excellent fighting between rival Whigs so within the Whigs themselves if there's lots of people competing and the party organisation is quite weak you can have rival candidates from the same party from the same movement for the same seats effectively so like the Tories today Dominic like the Tories today very good so

So here we've got two guys, two rigs, fighting for one slot. They're Edward Prothero and James Bailey. Edward Prothero is a massive do-gooder, Tom. He supports votes for Catholics and he supports the abolition of slavery.

Now, James Bailey is also a Whig, so a bit of a do-gooder, but he's more moderate. And actually his opponents say of him, oh, he's just pretending to hate slavery. So by moderate, he's not in favor of abolishing the slave trade, in other words. No, he is, but more gradually. He's a gradualist. His Keir Starmer to Brother Diane Abbott, I suppose it's fair to say. And his opponents say of him, he's just a lackey of the West India interests. Actually, now, confusingly, this is very Labour Party.

Bailey, the moderate, says of Prothero, he pretends to abhor slavery to pick the pockets of Quakers and other enthusiasts. And he also says, Prothero and all these Quakers, these sort of Whig momentum,

They've actually secretly invested in a Brazilian gold mine that depends on slaves. So they are absolute latte sipping. Yeah, this is all very familiar. Guardian reading hypocrites. It's very like the debate about Bailey Gifford. It is. Totally is. All the writers who oppose Bailey Gifford who have their books on Amazon. Yeah. That's an investment company that was sponsoring book festivals. It was basically driven out of the world. It was sponsoring book festivals by agitated lefty writers. Novelists. Exactly. Exactly.

So these two guys, they had this massive violence between their supporters. When Bailey, the gradualist, enters Bristol, he has this procession into Bristol,

There's a huge group of men and boys on horseback, and I quote, in a state of intoxication, many of them armed with bludgeons who attack his procession. So it's not all kind of organic shoes and tofu. No. This is the hard edge. I mean, no halberds, but the next best thing. So he comes out of his pub, which is the Rummer, to address the crowd. That's a great name for a pub. People hiss him. They charge his supporters. Yeah.

And in revenge, his supporters, and I quote, sailors and ships, carpenters in a dreadful state of infuriation, intoxication, also armed with bludgeons. They attack the other bloke's pub. There's massive fighting. And then 27 people had to be taken to the infirmary. The first day of polling,

A Prothero, the abolitionist, he comes out of his pub to address the crowd. There's a hail of missiles. Somebody hits him on the head with a ladder. It's an oak ladder, I read. An oak ladder. An oak ladder. So it's like a ship's ladder, I presume. The oak ladder of England. And I'm assuming this is something to do with, I mean, don't forget there'd be a lot of people in those crowds who would be in favour of slavery because they basically think it's their livelihood, who are supporting the West India interest.

So I'm wondering whether it's a ship's ladder and there's some sort of symbolism there that they've done it deliberately. Yeah, it could be. So anyway, Prothero lost by 500 votes. So that's the more radical abolitionist and the moderate one. But a year later, there was another election in 1831. The two guys who'd fought so bitterly

were the only candidates and stood unopposed and there was no contest, no fighting, nothing. It's like they'd made up or something or done a deal. I mean, that's the strange thing about it is that it's almost unknowable, I guess. It all seems so random and disorganized. I mean, there must be people who are sort of pulling the strings in some way, like issuing oak ladders and dead cats, but we don't really get much of a sense of them until later on. So let's move into the Victorian period. Obviously, the big story here is the expansion of the franchise. So

You mentioned the Great Reform Act. Thanks to the Great Reform Act of 1832, about 650,000 people can vote. There's another reform act in 1867 that takes it to 2 million and then in 1884 to about 6 million voters. That's still no women and a bare majority of men. So about 60% of men in Britain can vote and 40%

can't because they don't have enough property. Now, the other big thing, in 1872, there was a thing called the Ballot Act, which brought in secret ballots. And so that's the whole thing. You go behind the curtain. Nobody knows what you're voting. I'd always thought of that as a pretty fundamental principle of British democracy. I'm amazed it was so late being brought in. Yeah. And I think you and I can say this, Tom. Obviously, they wouldn't on these politics podcasts. That's the moment where it all went wrong for Britain, isn't it? Yeah. Yeah.

I mean, the 1870s is probably also the point where the United States and Germany start to catch up with us economically. And I think that's no coincidence. Terrible times. Yeah. I mean,

The moment people started voting out of shame, I think that's the moment we lost our political soul. Yeah, but the anti-vote take would be that it's 1832 and the widening of the franchise. Abolition of rotten boroughs. Yeah, that actually they should have heeded the 15th century petition that said too many people are voting. That was where it was at. Yeah, bring back the pot banging. Yeah. So with the expansion of the franchise and then it's on with secret ballots and obviously with the strengthening of party organisations and a general sense of Gladstone and rectitude, the

the violence starts to decline. But happily for us, it does not end. So I've got three fun examples of Victorian larks.

So one comes from the spa town of Cheltenham, 1865. Which is very kind of prim and proper. Very prim and proper, exactly. That's what makes this so incongruous. So in 1865, Lord Palmerston's liberals beat the Earl of Derby's conservatives. And it was generally seen as a very dull election, basically an election dominated by corruption. But this is the great shining exception. And this is from a brilliant project done at Durham University called the Electoral Violence Project, which is all about Victorian electoral violence. It records 3,000...

incidents across the whole of the Victorian period.

Some of them are just vandalism and some of them are proper riots. There were 96 deaths. I so approve of scholars doing this. Yeah. This is a good use of taxpayers' money. It really is. This is a genuinely good use, I think. I applaud this project. So on the 12th of July in Cheltenham, 1865, a labourer called William Lyons is walking down the street. He's been working as a sort of a messenger for the Liberal candidates. He's called Colonel Barclay. And he and this other volunteer are walking down the street and they pass a band called

and the band is playing a Scottish ballad called The Bonnets of Blue. And Lyons, this guy,

He's very enthusiastic about the liberals. You know, he can't get enough of the liberals. The liberal color is yellow. So he starts singing and he sings hurrah for the bonnets of yellow, you know, in this jolly liberal way. He loves the yellow. He loves the liberals. He's happy with life. And passing him is a chemist called John Glass, John Thomas Glass, who's a very, very keen conservative. And

And he hears this bloke singing this and he comes over and I quote, interferes with him. I don't know what that means, but something happens. They have an argument and Lyons is still very jolly. It's good humor banter. Lyons says, listen, I love the liberals. I've worked really hard for them today. And he finishes, he says, you know, cuddle Barkley forever. And at that...

The chemist, Glass. He says, here's Barclay for you, you. And then the newspaper reports blank out the last word. So we don't know what he said. But he took out a revolver and shot this bloke in the mouth. What?

No. Yeah. My God. That escalated quickly. It did. And at that, in very Shakespearean style, lines then said, Good God, I am shot. I shall die. And he'd been shot in the mouth and he's still saying this. God, no. As his brain start dribbling out through his lips. But then glass, the man who had shot him in the mouth, then said, incredibly implausibly.

I don't know the tone of voice to adopt for this. He said, I'm dying to know what he said. He said, my God, I hope it's not as bad as all that. Well, he just shot him in the mouth. Yeah. It's just a scratch. It's but a surface wound. I hope it's not as bad as all that. Why did you shoot him in the mouth? I mean, that's mad. It's too late for that, isn't it? Yeah.

Glass is arrested. Yeah. Lines was taken to hospital and he died. I'm not surprised. And tragically, tragically, Tom, I feel bad about laughing now, is he left a wife, a pregnant wife and four children. And a fund was set up to support the widow and the orphans. The Liberal candidate donated generously, which is very good. Now, here's the mad thing. Mr. Glass, at his trial, there was a lot of discussion about whether he was mad or not.

He does sound a bit bonkers. He was charged with murder, but the jury reduced it to manslaughter. He served 15 years penal servitude. Why was he let off so lightly? Because in the press, in the trial, everybody said, you can't blame a man. He was suffering from election excitement. And election excitement will addle your brain and you will shoot people in the mouth. So...

You know, don't judge him too harshly, I think was the lesson there. It does seem there's something going on in that story. There's some detail we're missing because it seemed to escalate very quickly and then to de-escalate unusually quickly. Well, but it might just be, as you say, election madness. Election madness. So Tom, I enjoyed that so much that we took too long over it. And we've got two more stories and we'll deal with them very quickly. So first Bolton. So we had a bit of liberal victimhood. Now we've got liberal misbehaviour. Bolton, 1868, Gladstone's first win over Disraeli.

Basically what happened in Bolton was that the liberals disgraced themselves. They discovered where conservative voters lived.

They kidnapped them. They detained them in a mill, Thomas Barlow's mill. And then they, and I quote, supplied them with drink until their senses were stupefied. And then if they were drunk enough, they were dragged down to the polls and forced to vote conservative. But if they weren't drunk and they were still sticking to their liberal principles, they were held prisoner in the mill to stop them voting. So this went on for days. Monday, the 2nd of November,

Some of the people held prisoner in the mill, went to the windows and shouted for help and pleaded with the townsfolk to come and rescue them. And when people came to try and rescue them, they discovered that, and I quote, a group of roughs said to be Irishmen armed with sticks were guarding the mill. And there was a sort of pitched battle before these men could be rescued. And it does seem kind of plausible because, of course, the Liberals would be the party that if you're

Irish an Irish immigrant working in Lancashire you're probably more likely to support them than the Tories well you're definitely more likely to support them than the Tories so it kind of makes sense the bizarre thing about this story was that Thomas Barlow who owned the mill where all these Tory voters were held prisoner he must have been in on it his brother was the mayor of the town and the

the Wesleyan Methodist temperance campaigner and Sunday school teacher. Because I was going to say, the liberals of the temperance party. They are the temperance party. The mayor of the town is a big temperance man, Sunday school teacher, and he'd supposedly paid for the roughs to come and imprison these Tories. It's the makings of a very good Sunday evening drama there. Sort of Call the Midwife-ish kind of drama. Yeah, but with forced alcoholism and roughs. God, Jeremy Thorpe would enjoy that story. LAUGHTER

And then my other favorite one comes from Islington West in 1886. So the Liberal Party is split. Here in Islington West, it's a battle between Liberal Unionists, so they're basically going to become conservatives in the long run, and Liberals. And the Liberal Unionist incumbent, Richard Chamberlain, is going to hold a really big meeting to rally support for his candidacy. And his former Liberal allies hate him now. So they advertise his meeting in the Palme d'Algazette, and they say, this is going to be an absolute carnage. Come and see the sport.

I mean, they're literally hiring roughs to come and disrupt this bloke's meeting. Roughs, a tremendous feature of English elections. Yeah.

I think roughs basically are, you know, you now see them running amok in German towns during football tournaments. Surely they're the heavies that we talked about in our episode on British fascism. Yeah. Employed on both sides. Yes, exactly. That's exactly it. Yeah. The Cable Street thing. Because Mosley employs boxers, didn't he? Yeah. I think a rough evolves into a heavy. Yeah, of course. So the meeting hasn't even really started. Mr Chamberlain appears.

And as soon as he appears at this packed hall in Islington, men rush the stage. And one guy who's gone to see the talk, he's actually genuinely interested in politics. The one person there who is genuinely interested in politics, a man called Dr. Slater.

He's hit on the head with the chair and he manages to sort of fend off the chair. And then the man who's hit him on the head with the chair punches him in the arms and the head. And there's just general chaos. And this man is eventually dragged out. The police break up the meeting and they get this man in particular. And this man, he's dumbstruck to have been arrested. He thinks this is total injustice. Infringement of his liberties as a freeborn Englishman. He's an 18-year-old joiner called Arthur Brighty.

And in court, the policeman says to Brighty, they said to Brighty, why did you go to this liberal versus liberal unionist kind of meeting? And he said, well, I have no interest in politics at all. He says, I went there with a lot more thinking to have a Barney. I'd read about it in the newspaper. There was going to be a big fight. And the judge said, well, normally you'd get a fine, but I'm not going to fine you because I know other people will pay your fine. Meaning?

liberals. Their liberals would pay you a fine because they're up to no good. So poor old Mr. Brighter gets

sentenced to a month's imprisonment with hard labour, which seems quite harsh to me for just hitting a man on the head with a chair. But I'm, you know, I don't mind a little bit of public disorder in elections. Yeah, you're soft on crime. That's your problem. Soft on crime. Now you contrast that with Ed Davey. You talked about Ed Davey, the Liberal leader. There's not much of hitting people on, I mean, it's just falling off amusement park rides. Or flumes and things. Yeah, flumes. And we may be discussing that in our second episode, don't we? We may be.

I mean, it's worth saying, Tom, obviously electoral violence is no joke. We've had two MPs lose their lives in the last few years. And we've had an MP stand down because of threats of violence against him. Exactly. Exactly. So I don't want to sort of make light of it too much. Rosie Duffield, a Labour MP in Canterbury, has cancelled going to hustings. Yeah. I think because she's worried about violence. So, yeah, so it is a kind of undertow. But I do lament the decline in sort of the beer drinking, ribbon wearing. Let's face it, rotten cat throwing.

Rotten cat throwing and people being chaired through the town and then the chairs ripped apart. I'd like to see that return. Or people being tied to poles. Yeah, that I could live with. And also that sort of, I think it's reasonable that if people wanted to have a battle on a heath,

Like in 1698 or 1705 or something. There should be room in the English constitution, the British constitution for that, don't you think? Would you go so far as to bring back Halberds? I'd bring back Halberds, the pot business. I can't remember what that's called now. Yeah. And the faggot vote. I think I'd bring back all those things. You know me, I would restrict the franchise as tightly as possible.

Okay. Dominic, that was great. I mean, it does make elections sound brilliant. The fact that you never know when a pot is going to be banged or someone's going to be trussed up on a stick or halberds brought out. Yeah. But modern elections, they can be very lively as well. I think this general feeling that the one we're going through at the moment has been quite dull. Hasn't been a great amount of comic action. Yeah. So boring. But over what? The past 40, 50 years, there's been some tremendous elections. So in our next episode, we will be looking at the history of recent elections. So that's Dominic.

John Prescott punching a bloke with a mullet. Neil Kinnock all writing at his Sheffield rally. Oh, yeah. All that kind of thing. Great film. So we hope you enjoyed it. Bye-bye. Bye-bye.