Nancy Astor, Britain’s first female MP, campaigning in 1919. © Ken Welsh / Bridgeman Images

The way we were: Running for election

Extracts from memoirs and diaries
September 17, 2014

William Wilberforce, the anti-slavery campaigner, spent £8,000 in 1780 on bribing voters to elect him as an MP. He writes in his memoirs: 

“By long established custom, the single vote of a resident elector was rewarded with a donation of two guineas, four were paid for a plumper [the constituency returned two MPs and therefore voters had two votes. A plumper would only use one of his votes], and the expenses of a freeman’s journey from London averaged £10 apiece. The letter of the law was not broken, because the money was not paid until the last day on which election petitions could be presented.”

Whig politician Charles James Fox was returned as MP for Westminster in the 1784 general election. It was an unusual constituency: all 18,000 male householders had a vote, making it a genuine popular democracy. The poll began badly for Fox; then the beautiful Duchess of Devonshire and her friends began canvassing for him among the plebeian voters, to the horror of many. Nathaniel Wraxall wrote: 

“These ladies, being previously furnished with lists of outlying voters, drove to their respective dwellings. Neither entreaties nor promises were spared. In some instances even personal caresses were said to have been permitted, in order to prevail upon the surly or inflexible, and there can be no doubt of common mechanics having been conveyed to the hustings [voting platform] on more than one occasion by the Duchess in her own coach.”

Lord Temple Nugent wrote to the Duke of Rutland that: “their exertions have been incredible, particularly upon the part of her Grace of Devon, who in the course of her canvass had heard more plain English of the grossest sort than ever fell to the share of any lady of her rank.”

Samuel Romilly MP, who bought his seat for Horsham for £5,000 from the Duke of Norfolk, writes in his diary in 1817: 

“This buying of seats is detestable, and yet it is almost the only way in which one in my situation, who is resolved to be an independent man, can get into Parliament. To come in by a popular election in the present state of the representation is quite impossible; to be placed there by some great lord and to vote as he shall direct is to be in a state of complete dependence; and nothing hardly remains but to own a seat to the sacrifice of a part of one’s fortune.”

Folk singer Henry Burstow recalls an election in his hometown of Horsham in 1847, which he describes as: 

“One of the most notoriously drunken and corrupt elections in the United Kingdom. ‘Free’ liquor could be had at every public house and beer shop in the parish for several weeks. The consequence was that, whilst some people kept sober, others were continually drunk... On nomination and polling days it may almost be said that the town was entirely drunk.

“The bribery was almost as bad as the drunkenness; many ‘free and independent’ citizens were bribed for their vote, others were bribed not to vote... Polling ceased punctually at 4pm, but the member who won found himself in a very shaky seat indeed. A petition against his return was lodged, and so flagrant had been the conduct of the election by his supporters that it was found he had not a leg to stand... and he was unseated.

“This verdict had the effect of sobering the town, for the subsequent election, in 1848, was perfectly tame and respectably conducted. The defeated candidate of 1847 again put up, and was this time elected by a large majority over his new opponent; but he was not allowed to take his seat; a petition against his return was lodged for exactly the same offences... and he was also unseated.”

In 1895, Michael MacDonagh in The Book of Parliament records an incident in Cork: 

“The contest lay between Parnellites and anti-Parnellites. Four voters were married to ladies whose political views differed from those held by their lords, and on the polling day these gentle dames rose early in the morning and left their respective homes, carrying every stitch of male attire from the house, with the keys, after locking in their unconscious victims. Fate, however, was against the ladies. They had reckoned without the canvasser, who, before the poll closed, discovered the clothesless electors, and having wrapped them in blankets, had them conveyed in carriages to the polling booths, where they arrived just in time to record their votes.”

Nancy Astor became Britain’s first female MP in 1919. The day after her election on 28th November, the Times newspaper commented:

“‘Gentlemen of the House of Commons.’ This ancient phrase... is now out of date. Its superannuation is but one indication of the tremendous breach in Parliamentary tradition caused by the election to the House of Commons of Viscountess Astor... Where is Lady Astor to sit?... And if she wears a hat, should she remove it when she rises to speak, as male MPs are bound to do?”