For many years it had returned two Conservative
members, Messrs. Nield and Goddard. It was looked upon as an
impregnable Tory stronghold, and the fight was little better
than a forlorn hope.
My headquarters were at Coleshill, Lord Radnor's. The old
lord had, in his Parliamentary days, been a Radical; hence,
my advanced opinions found great favour in his eyes. My
programme was - Free Trade, Vote by Ballot, and
Disestablishment. Two of these have become common-places
(one perhaps effete), and the third is nearer to
accomplishment than it was then.
My first acquaintance with a constituency, amongst whom I
worked enthusiastically for six weeks, was comic enough. My
instructions were to go to Swindon; there an agent, whom I
had never seen, would join me. A meeting of my supporters
had been arranged by him, and I was to make my maiden speech
in the market-place.
My address, it should be stated - ultra-Radical, of course -
was mainly concocted for me by Mr. Cayley, an almost rabid
Tory, and then member for the North Riding of Yorkshire, but
an old Parliamentary hand; and, in consequence of my
attachment to his son, at that time and until his death, like
a father to me.
When the train stopped at Swindon, there was a crowd of
passengers, but not a face that I knew; and it was not till
all but one or two had left, that a business-looking man came
up and asked if I were the candidate for Cricklade. He told
me that a carriage was in attendance to take us up to the
town; and that a procession, headed by a band, was ready to
accompany us thither. The procession was formed mainly of
the Great Western boiler-makers and artisans. Their
enthusiasm seemed slightly disproportioned to the occasion;
and the vigour of the brass, and especially of the big drum,
so filled my head with visions of Mr. Pickwick and his friend
the Honourable Samuel Slumkey, that by the time I reached the
market-place, I had forgotten every syllable of the speech
which I had carefully learnt by heart. Nor was it the band
alone that upset me; going up the hill the carriage was all
but capsized by the frightened horses and the breaking of the
pole. The gallant boiler-makers, however, at once removed
the horses, and dragged the carriage with cheers of defiance
into the crowd awaiting us.
My agent had settled that I was to speak from a window of the
hotel. The only available one was an upper window, the lower
sash of which could not be persuaded to keep up without being
held. The consequence was, just as I was getting over the
embarrassment of extemporary oration, down came the sash and
guillotined me.
