Politics and the Landed Estate

Abstract

This chapter will explore politics as an important part of the financial landscape of the landed estate and not as a political process. It examines more broadly the expanding role of the land agent into politics. The landowner bestowed on his tenants’ political rights which gave them a place in the ordering of society. The historiography rarely discusses politics alongside estate relationships although the two are inevitably interlinked. Overall this chapter explores a remarkably efficient network of electioneering that was no less a part of the financial decision-making process of the landed estate.

Overview

Elections were an important part of the financial landscape of the estate. The landowning elite endowed their tenantry with voting rights which allowed them to participate in the political decision-making process. While such authority was rarely challenged, an election was an opportunity to either endorse or overthrow the local balance of power. In turn this provided at least some measure of check on the landowning elite. Although a landowner might not personally stand as a candidate, they still had to regularly consider their position in the rural community, and when sanctioning, a chosen candidate pick one who was prepared to both fulfil his responsibilities and to represent his patron’s interest in parliament.¹ Elections on one hand provided the disgruntled and neglected the opportunity to complain, while on the other the grateful were able to express their appreciation. Frank O’Gorman suggests that at the very least, the proximity or chance of an election must have concentrated the ‘paternalistic minds’ of those involved. For landowners this might mean keeping the poor rate low, allowing rents as we have seen in Chap. 3 to accumulate for faithful and loyal political supporters and the eviction of those who could not be relied on in a contest. Political ambition was about local relationships which revolved around local elites with local ambitions and obligations. Historians such as O’Gorman and David Moore argue that deference played a significant part in unreformed politics, although.² Moore’s thesis is not without its critics.³ Historians such as Gordon Mingay argue that deference was based on the recognition of rank and station and was not simply servilely given despite this the ruling class of English landlords generally expected it. Undoubtedly farmers welcomed a landowner who took a personal interest in their affairs.⁴ J. R. Fisher suggests by expanding the basic sociological model utilised it is possible to demonstrate the existence of an ‘agricultural community’. This group, he argued, consisted of small landowners, tenant farmers, rural tradesmen and those propertied elements of the community whose income depended on agricultural profitability.⁵

When it came to the role of organising elections, many stewards and land agents found they had acquired a new duty as election agent and this was added to their already bulging list of jobs. If landowners were to assert and preserve their political hegemony within a borough, even a small one, such as Milborne Port, they must control the poll, and often this meant spending money in order to court the loyalty of the leasehold tenants. While it might be presumed that those men who were reliant on their landowner to earn a living would vote according to the landlord’s choice of candidate, there was always a chance they might not.⁶ Patronage in the parliamentary boroughs extended beyond the electorate to the candidates themselves. Overall it prevented controversial or important members of the Commons from the caprices of electioneering.⁷ The majority of England’s parliamentary constituencies returned two members to the House of Commons, and as such each voter had two votes to cast. This dual vote meant that political behaviour could be hard to judge. An elector thus had a number of options. On one hand he could choose to cast both votes for two candidates of one party, in other words a straight party vote, or he could split his votes and support a single candidate of each party. On the other, he could decide to use just one vote and discard the other, a system known as ‘plumping’. Where a single candidate was proposed, then plumping was the only option.⁸ As there were two votes to cast, the electorate expected to be canvassed. Long term this could save the expense of an election contest, but the methods used all came at a price which if not successful could extend into the election itself. Consequently, the voter was aware that his vote had a value, and there are numerous examples of a patron or a candidate purchasing votes. The amounts that a single vote fetched varied, but the following examples reveal the sums involved. For instance, at Leicester it was £1 or £2 and at York £2 for a plumper and £1 for a single vote. In 1832 at Stafford the price started at £2 10s 0d for a single and £5 for a plumper, but as the election approached the price rose to between £7 and £10. Here it was suggested that of 1049 voters, 852 had received some form of bribe. When the Clive family sought to control the pocket borough of Ludlow, it is alleged that as much as £30 was paid for a single vote.⁹ Norman Gash argues that while the figures bandied around may be exaggerated, election bribery was rife and commonplace.¹⁰ It was not, however, just about purchasing votes; there were a myriad of ways to attract voters, and as will be seen on this estate, at the centre of the process was its land agent.

There has been considerable discussion as to the role of the election agent in pre-reformed politics. David Hainsworth argues that the gradual shift of ‘selections’ to ‘elections’ meant that it was inevitable that the role of the estate steward/agent would be expanded to fulfil the role of election agent.¹¹ This view is not held by all historians, and E. A. Smith argues that it was impossible to define the term ‘election agent before the statutory codification of his duties in the Corrupt Practices Act of 1883’.¹² Smith is, however, somewhat contradictory, and alongside this lack of prescribed duties, he suggests that the business of an election agent had been well understood for many years.¹³ Ultimately he was expected to protect the electoral interest, construct the poll list, canvass the voters, organise supporters, arrange the appropriate inducements to ensure loyalty and generally represent the interests of the candidate. In boroughs where the local landowner held patronage, this meant ensuring that he won. As well as maintaining the electorate, election agents were expected to raise funds and to co-ordinate the election process. Curwen argued that the election agent was the person ‘immediately known and connected with the electors in small boroughs’ as well as ‘assisting the candidate with all their wants and necessities’.¹⁴ With his local knowledge and networks, an understanding of the law and regional politics and an innate financial acumen, it is hardly surprising that the land agent was the man for the job.

Using the estate correspondence, it is possible to view politics as an economic consideration as much as a political entity. As the working and social relationships seen in Chaps. 2 and 3 were underpinned by financial considerations, so too was the electoral process. There existed here as elsewhere an expectation and a framework within which the tenants expected to be treated and feted both between elections and on polling day itself. Someone who could be trusted had to control the finances and pay the bills, keep an eye on any opposition, compile the poll books and ensure that the right people were registered to pay the poor rate.¹⁵ For a man like Anglesey who held the patronage of more than one borough, Milborne Port feeds into a wider story of power, status and economic stability as seen in the Introduction. It is possible to discern the cost of maintaining his patronage and the impact this had on the landscape of the borough and the people within it. Three aspects of elections lay at the core of this chapter and include the political landscape of Milborne Port and the contested election. The petitions which were presented to parliament by the opposition reflect the unseen and unrecognised costs of owning the patronage of a borough. Secondly, the election process and the construction of the election campaign both of which entailed a financial commitment and needed a manager who understood where and how to spend money in a way that would have the most effect. Under the Great Reform Act of 1832, the borough was disenfranchised and became a financial burden rather than an economic asset and consequently was sold off in short order. This last act demonstrating that politics as much as any other activity on the estate had to be value for money.

The Political Landscape of Milborne Port and the Contested Election

While some areas particularly in the midlands and north of England had expanded rapidly during the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, Milborne Port remained a tiny borough in the Hundred of Horethorne in Somerset. It continued to return two men to the House of Commons until the Great Reform Act of 1832. County and borough politics were inherently different. The former contained a more standardised electorate and a clear demarcation between members and electors. The latter consisted of distinctly individual political personalities, with a diverse franchise and representative capacity, which made it ‘messier’. Despite their differences, the destinies of both sections were closely linked to the political fortunes of local landowners. To maintain this equilibrium took up time and effort. The landed elite needed the electorate to remain in power and herein lay a problem that had to be overcome, as only a small percentage of those eligible to vote were completely reliant on the elite class either politically or economically.¹⁶ To a greater extent, the pattern of electoral control varied with the social and economic make-up of each constituency. In most and certainly in Milborne Port, a seemingly settled regime of control by the landed interest prevailed.¹⁷ Frank O’Gorman, however, argues the ruling order was neither ‘settled’ nor ‘fixed’, and its institutions and interests whether personal, family, social or political often found expression at the electoral level.¹⁸ When placed under a magnifying glass, the constituent families, interests and institutions were rarely ever completely reconciled, and these tensions played out locally rather than nationally.

Exploring electoral behaviour O’Gorman argues is best viewed not by categorising the franchise but through determining the basic elements of control exerted over the electorate. He splits these into four: venal, proprietorial, corporation and patronage boroughs. In venal boroughs, politics was reduced to the status of a purely financial transaction, in which electoral support was given in response to fiscal persuasion. In proprietorial boroughs, the vote was treated as a form of property, and the voting process formed part of the transaction in property relationships. For example, in scot and lot boroughs such as Milborne Port, it was possible for a patron to buy up the majority of properties wherein residence conveyed the vote. Getting and maintaining a majority position was reliant on owning the largest share of appropriate property. Mounting a challenge to the current patron was simply a case of having enough money to buy up ‘voting houses’ or to own the land upon which to build suitable properties. Thus, politics were determined by property transactions rather than political conflict. Tenants were simply expected to vote according to the wishes of the landlord. It was in these boroughs that some of the worst abuses of the unreformed system occurred. Towns which had been granted charters were also boroughs. Some of these developed into corporate towns which had the right to return Members of Parliament, and these were known as corporation boroughs. The majority had small electorates which were controlled by patronage, and consequently contested elections were rare. After 1775 a relatively small number perhaps around 15 per cent necessitated the calling of a poll. Patronage boroughs were the most common type. These were boroughs in which ‘natural’ interests were at the forefront based on the foundation of landed property, services to the constituency and the goodwill of the electors. In this environment deference was expected and voting against the prevailing wishes of the patron could be classed as hostile and brought with it the threat of eviction. The structure of patronage boroughs was not static nor universal but adaptable, constantly shifting and changing as needed. Although there might be just one patron who dominated the political landscape security was still bought by showering the voter with generous gestures. The amounts spent could increase expediently if another landowner mounted a challenged to the establish patron. Voter loyalty was important and purchased either through cash or specific inducements. When these factors are combined with the expense of managing the borough and the cost of holding an election, this political borough changes from being simply a political interest to one which has economics at its core. In this sense as seen in the Introduction and elsewhere in this volume, the political landscape of the borough was no different to many other aspects of managing the estate. Financial factors were even more important for Milborne Port as it sits between the divide of scot and lot, proprietorial and patronage boroughs.¹⁹ Consequently, while Anglesey wished to maintain control, he had to be prepared for the immense expenses that might be incurred; thus patronage cannot be seen as simply a political state but must be viewed as an inherent economic cost to the estate.

The Marquis of Anglesey held the patronage of Milborne Port from 1812 to its demise in the Great Reform Act. This did not, however, mean that matters always ran smoothly. The precedent for challenging results had already been set, when, on 20 January 1775, the petition of Edward Walter and Isaac Hawkins Browne against the return of the Honourable Temple Luttrell and Charles Wolseley was tried by a committee of the House of Commons. Altogether three petitions were read; it was alleged that three returns had been made by three different people each claiming to be returning officers. The offending returns had been attached to the writ by the sheriff, who had then returned them to the Clerk of the Crown. The individual petitions each claimed victory with a majority of the legal votes, and all made mutual allegations of bribery. The petition of Walter and Browne purported that Luttrell at the time of his election and return ‘had by himself or some person in trust for him, an office, place or employment, touching or concerning the farming, collecting, or managing his majesty’s customs’, meant that he was incapable of being elected. After hearing all the evidence, the court decided that the return made by John Newton and John Peckham on behalf of Luttrell and Wolseley was an illegal return. Given the complicated nature of the other two returns, the committee thought it was their duty to ‘go upon the merits of the election’, rather than try and decide between them. Part of the hearing centred on whether rates set and collected by ‘illegal’ officers (or rather those who had no authority to do so) had actually paid and were entitled to vote. This raised the issue as to whether these persons should be treated equally under the law as those who had legally paid scot and lot. The counsel of Walter and Browne concluded that this should indeed be the case and the committee eventually came to the same decision. Once everything in the petitions had been scrutinised and the evidence heard, the committee decided that the original election result should be allowed to stand.

A further petition was heard on 6 April 1819. The election had been held on 18 April 1818 at which Sir Edward Paget, Robert Matthew Casberd, Richard Sharp and Samuel Moulton Barrett were candidates. The petition claimed that James Noke Highmore and John Highmore illegally took it upon themselves to act as both the sub-bailiffs and returning officers at the said election; by taking the poll it was alleged they had consequently and dishonestly rejected the votes of several persons:

who had the good right and title to vote and had tendered their votes for the said Richard Sharp and Samuel Morton Barrett, Esqrs. and admitted other persons to vote for the said Sir Edward Paget and Robert Matthew Casberd who had no right to vote at the said election.²⁰

It was alleged that by using these tactics, the Highmores had fraudulently manipulated a majority for Paget and Casberd, and they had subsequently been illegally returned to parliament. Yet again there were charges of general bribery and corruption and of unduly closing the poll, although this latter charge was later abandoned by the counsel for the petitioners. The numbers who voted for individual candidates are detailed in Table 5.1 which really emphasises the smallness of the electorate.²¹

Table 5.1 List of candidates and votes polled

William Castleman’s correspondence gives a wider sense of local sentiments that it is impossible to gain from official reports. He had been informed by William Payne in late October 1818 that the petition had been signed, but the opposition were prepared to wait until the last minute to present it so that they might gain the largest possible number of opposition members.²² It was suggested that Sharp and Moulton Barrett had been ‘put up’ by Lord Darlington who was a Whig borough-monger and ‘egged on’ by John Henning, a glover in the town who had a grudge against the Pagets. As a result, Lord Darlington had purchased land in the borough from Grime, and on which he embarked in a house building programme with the aim of challenging Anglesey’s stranglehold.²³

The official record and the estate’s correspondence give a sense of the complex nature of politics within the borough as Darlington mounted his challenge. On this occasion there was an additional accusation which accused Anglesey’s supporters of preventing voters from ‘freely attending the poll’. Thomas Fooks in his deposition stated that the supporters of Paget/Casberd were holding a meeting of their followers at the King’s Head when members of the opposition accused them of confining some of their allies within the room. The opposition demanded admittance on the grounds that it was a public house. Fooks rebuked their request stating that the room had been privately hired, but he agreed that the door would be left open and the opposition could call out asking if anyone wanted to leave. This was duly done but there was no reply.²⁴ Other protests included an objection to some of the votes. It was claimed that these men had sworn that they were in possession of their property and had paid the poor rate for at least six months but had not been resident for six weeks. There were questions raised as to George Longman’s vote on the grounds that he was not legally of an age to vote. The opposition alleged that Mr. Hallet had stated to Payne that the Blues would purchase a public house to be licenced for him. They would lay in a stock of beer while also arranging for the licence of the Queen’s Head to be transferred to him in otherwise an explicit act of bribery. Henning told Payne he would give him £50 if he would not disclose the bribery by the ‘Blues’. Henning then went home and returned and offered him £20 in part which Payne stated he had refused to accept. Feaver who was Lord Darlington’s agent had been placed in Grime’s cottage. It was alleged that the Blues relied on the oppression by Mr. Castleman towards some of the votes advocating that when he delivered their leases, the tenants were warned by him: ‘We take your rent off so much a year on account of not giving you the Bag. Now we grant you a favour before we ask for yours’.²⁵ In other words the electorate were offered monetary incentives in return for voter loyalty. These allegations all revolve around some form of financial gain, and while the amounts paid in cash seem small, any significant reductions in rent ate into the estate’s overall profits. The reasons behind the shared risks of farming discussed in the Introduction and elsewhere in this volume are clearly visible in borough politics.

Despite the petition containing multiple objections, many of them centred on illegal financial payments, the committee decided that their attention should concentrate on the case of the nine voters who formed the capital bailiffs. At Milborne Port there were nine capital bailiwicks who each had a capital bailiff, but due to a system of rotation, only two were in office at any one time. These were known as the reigning bailiffs, and at the Michaelmas court leet, those in office appointed a deputy or sub-bailiff. It was these men who were in effect the returning officers. The petition had objected to the capital bailiffs because they did not reside in the borough. It was argued that the appointments in respect of which they voted were thus illegal and void. However, Mr. Serjeant Pell on behalf of the sitting members argued that the petitioners had not properly specified their objection in the list as required by an act of parliament.²⁶ As a result this point was not a valid reason for complaint. At the end of the sitting, the committee came to a number of conclusions. They resolved that the votes of the nine people who were part of the complaint were to remain on the poll. It was agreed that George Longman had not been resident for the prerequisite six months. The evidence, however, stated that his father had died in testate, more than six months before the election, and George Longman had been granted letters of administration over his goods and property, and this, therefore, entitled him to vote. The opposition argued that he could not vote by proxy, and in fact his mother had equal rights to the property. As a result, the committee decreed that this vote should be discarded. Having dealt with all the issues in the petition, the committee determined that the sitting members had in fact been properly elected.²⁷ Now that the business surrounding the complaints had been concluded, it was time to compile the accounts and assess the amount spent by the Marquis of Anglesey in defending the original ballot. Castleman advocated that before any monies were paid out, all the briefs and other papers connected with the petition should be lodged at Uxbridge House.²⁸ This suggestion was ‘not a distant notion’ but one of ‘common security and caution’ because if something were to happen to Mr. Lowe, the estate’s barrister, the papers might get into the wrong hands.²⁹ This underpins the idea that anyone taking up the patronage of a borough was in effect taking on both a financial and economic responsibility that went beyond the case of simply putting up a candidate when an election was called.

An exploration of the political landscape through contested elections reveals that despite the Marquis of Anglesey’s patronage, local tensions and grievances created an unsettled and oft-contested battle ground. The situation was further complicated when Lord Darlington attempted to grab power. During this period Castleman as land and election agent was expected to watch over the electorate and to weed out any that could not be relied on. This took him away from other areas of the estate during a period of economic instability when his time would have been better spent supporting the tenants in places such as Stalbridge which were more profitable in terms of rental income. The unsettled and antagonistic nature of borough politics was thus time-consuming and added to Castleman’s already heavy and complex workload. The borough was important and needed to be watched; the huge investment in housing stock, the encouragement of new industries and the monies spent on entertaining and courting votes meant that Anglesey could not afford to let Darlington succeed. This created a difficult and tense situation that will be explored further in the next section. It illustrates more than anything else the financial implications of mounting a takeover, and the sums Anglesey spent in thwarting him are indicative of why politics was an economic issue for this estate and why all the decisions made had financial implications. Elections followed a set procedure that included organising the voters and the payment of bills; getting the timing right was essential and the responsibility of William Castleman.

The Election Process

The election process is most usually constructed as a political process, but all the decisions made were based on an economic and financial basis. As will be seen, an estate had to weigh up the importance of their political power against the cost of maintaining the electorate and fighting off any opposition. Borough politics was often personal; to know and be known by those who were governed was a central theme of English paternalism. There were according to David Roberts three main principle sets of duties that the conscientious superior paternalist felt he must perform: ruling, guiding and helping.³⁰ Essentially this meant a commitment to rule firmly and supervise appropriately. In order for this system to work, the tenants and others who formed the electorate had to give their consent; they expected to be advised on who to vote for, but their accord was not given freely. Tenants expected to be feted and canvassed; any landowner who attempted to avoid the customary system did so at his peril. This became increasingly important as the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries witnessed the expansion of political awareness which extended politics beyond issues of parochial concern.

There were three main elements to the development of this new conscious interest, firstly the role of the press. As a medium for the communication process, newspapers were indispensable and their usefulness was enhanced by growing literacy rates. They carried advertisements, opinions, letters and increasingly versions of candidates’ speeches.³¹ Historians have long understood that newspapers were circulated among friends and families, were kept for reference and information and used as a source of knowledge. Much less though is understood about their circulation.³² What is known is that provincial newspapers could have a substantial readership, with each copy being shared, discussed and valued. In order to emphasise its spread and reach, The Sherborne Mercury stated it was ‘chiefly distributed by men and horses hired on purpose, in a very regular, expeditious and expensive manner’.³³ It claimed that it was distributed ‘in every direction, over four counties, extending from the town of Poole, to the eastern extremity of Dorsetshire to Penzance and land’s end in Cornwall’.³⁴ More than 80 agents resident in towns were employed in both vending and receiving advertisements and communications. For electoral purposes newspapers countered parochialism and placed the election process in both regional and national contexts.³⁵ Secondly, the bureaucratisation of the political process had less impact in small rural areas. While in larger urban conurbations, the press had acted as a general agency for electoral mobilisation, this had in turn led to the creation of election clubs. Although they varied in size, the average membership was around 150–200. To put size into context, the typical number who signed up to one of these urban clubs was more than the entire number of voters in Milborne Port. The third and final reason was a more politically aware electorate which it is argued was seen as the development of and escalating phenomenon of petitioning. Despite there being a customary precedent for this process, it became increasingly fashionable to petition parliament. For example, in the hundred years between 1750 and 1850, the constituency of Reading sent 432 petitions, each was the result of a public meeting, a canvass and frequently considerable local agitation which all incurred a financial cost.³⁶ Even small boroughs took part, and amongst other petitions from the borough of Milborne Port, there were two relating to anti-slavery: the first was sent to the House of Commons in 1824 and the second to both Houses in 1826. In the same year, a petition against the importation of foreign gloves was sent to the House of Lords. Anti-Catholic sentiment is often represented as one of the main causes of the growing political cognizance of the electorate locally, regionally and nationally and Milborne Port was no different; consequently, Protestant dissenters petitioned for the repeal of the Test Acts in June 1827 and anti-Catholic petitions followed in February 1829. The latter two petitions caused considerable upheaval in the borough because Lord Anglesey had been recalled from his post as Lord Lieutenant of Ireland just a month earlier for his Catholic sympathies.³⁷ Uncharacteristically Castleman wrongly assessed the situation in 1825 when he had written to Anglesey about Mr. Portman, one of the candidates in the upcoming Dorset election:

I have despatched a clerk to canvas all your Lordship’s Tenants at Stalbridge, Bradford &c, &c against Mr Portman or any other Candidate supporting Catholic Emancipation and to with hold a promise of their votes in the present.³⁸

In response Anglesey had returned the letter writing in the margin ‘Do not let the Catholick question be named by me as any ground for opposing any vote’.³⁹ While in 1825 Castleman had underestimated his employer, in 1829 he failed to capture the mood of the tenants. As a result, he was caught off guard when one of his clerks informed him of the intended anti-Catholic petition. Once he knew of its existence, he still did not want to be associated with any aspect of it, because once presented to parliament he stated, ‘it will be my duty to account to Lord Anglesey for the part I have taken in it’.⁴⁰ It appeared that the tenants had been totally unaware of the change in Anglesey’s political sentiments. Castleman’s attitude was very much one of restraint suggesting that out of respect for their landlord, the tenants should have refrained from making a public demonstration of their own beliefs. Petitions while at times problematic were often signed by both the franchised and unfranchised electorate and gave a voice to both men and women, especially those who did not have the vote. As a source they do much to demonstrate an expanding interest in politics at all levels of society and suggest the ‘political nation’ encompassed a large body of people who took an interest in all aspects of government.⁴¹

In contrast F. M. L. Thompson advocated that most English tenants did not have strong political views or indeed particularly cared about the political process.⁴² This lack of interest was created by the domination exerted by landowners and the influence they exerted over electoral candidates and the elections themselves. For the electorate, Thompson argues, politics was not about choosing a party or policies but voting for someone from the same landed class that already exerted a considerable influence on their lives.⁴³ While the landowner might have taken great interest in the choice of candidates, Thompson assumed that whoever stood was an irrelevance in the minds of the tenants because they would simply vote as they were instructed.⁴⁴ If true, then canvassing would have been unnecessary, and the estate spared much expense. In fact, as already discussed, the two-vote system created a degree of autonomy, and in the Introduction and throughout this volume, the partnership between landowner and tenant was unwritten but based on mutual trust. There is a danger, according to Martin Daunton, in assuming that the unreformed electorate were passive raw material who patrons could manipulate at will; instead the possibility should be considered that the situation could be reversed whereby the electorate influenced their patrons.⁴⁵ Although full participation in national government and membership of parliament was restricted to a small number of elite landowners, the political system was responsive to the concerns of a much wider propertied and commercial society.⁴⁶ This meant that no one who held patronage could take their position for granted; tenants with long leases rather than simply acquiescing would baulk if authority was wielded with a heavy hand. In the event of this happening, tenants would have quit their properties and an estate would have found itself in dire financial straits. Instead Daunton argues patrons had to work with the culture and attitudes of the local electorate, stressing a mutual interdependence rather than imposing deference on lower-class voters.⁴⁷ Politics therefore had multi-faceted financial implications; no landowner could risk putting too much pressure on their tenants as this came with a risk, but at the same time failing to return pliant loyal candidates could risk an entire social way of life. Keeping a watching brief on the behaviour and attitude of the electorate in a proprietorial or patronage borough thus formed an essential element of its management. This became even more so when someone mounted a takeover bid.

From 1819 onwards, Lord Darlington attempted to wrest the borough of Milborne Port from the Marquis of Anglesey which resulted in a very expensive housing race. As already seen above, opposition in the form of Henning had persuaded Darlington to purchase eight acres of land so that houses might be built to a rateable standard which would attract voters.⁴⁸ Sir William Manners at Ilchester had previously been a victim of Darlington’s borough-mongering and warned that Darlington employed an unscrupulous attorney called Metcalf. He stated that he was ‘somehow related to Lady D who was once a streetwalker’. There was a more respectable attorney, but Metcalfe did ‘all his dirty work’.⁴⁹ Ensor who resided in the borough suggested that Henning acted out of revenge. Henning, a glove manufacturer and Whig (the Marquis of Anglesey was a Tory), had allowed his cows to stray, and consequently they were captured and impounded by Thomas Pitman. Henning was furious, and when he met up with Pitman, he ‘boxed his ears’ which facilitated a complaint to William Castleman. In response a legal action was brought against Henning who was fined heavily for losing his temper and swore he would seek revenge.⁵⁰

Once posed the threat could not be ignored—this paradigm more than any other illustrates why politics was a financial and economic issue rather than simply being a process which returned MPs to parliament. The estate set out to thwart the challenge by orchestrating the leasing of all Sir William Medleycott’s property in Milborne Port. In addition, two plots of land were purchased on which to build, and this it was hoped would ensure the estate stayed ahead in the house building race. By the beginning of 1820, the estate had completed 14 new houses and a further 8 would soon follow suit. These properties were constructed of stone and covered with tiles (rather than thatch). The idea in fabricating buildings of this quality was to prevent some of the extensive and expensive repairs which were annually incurred in the borough. The outlay on each house was expected to be around £100. Although the numbers completed were less than hoped, Castleman felt that this was to Anglesey’s advantage as some of the borough houses were unoccupied. Besides these new properties, work was undertaken repairing and altering many of the old houses, for the sole purpose of increasing the number of voters and thus frustrating Darlington’s plans. The sums spent were enormous; for example, in 1819 the estate expended some £2121 10s 2d on new houses and £4032 5s 3d in 1820. In this latter year, a further £1260 0s 0d was given to James N. Highmore to pay the workmen in the borough. Besides his £50 salary, Highmore was awarded a further £50 for his extra trouble ‘this year’.⁵¹ In order to ensure the estate was not defrauded by the builders, any work carried out had to be inspected and the bills checked under the watchful eye of the foreman Mr. Taylor.⁵² For this in 1820 he was paid £152 19s 0d for his work.⁵³ To further reduce the risk of a takeover bid, those tenants who were unable to vote, alongside those whose loyalty might not be solid or who it was felt could be bribed to vote for Darlington’s candidate, were evicted. Anglesey was informed that ‘the [number] intended to be removed is 23 including some women and I have supplied nearly all of their places with men’ who can ‘be depended upon’.⁵⁴ Some of the tenants were, after further negotiations, allowed to stay such as Mr. Owen, who, it was considered, ‘will become a powerful support to your Lordships Interests’.⁵⁵ The monies spent in this small borough over a rough five-year period are staggering, and McKay suggests that the Marquis of Anglesey alone spent more than £15,000.⁵⁶ While Darlington according to his agent had spent upwards of £40,000 more than twice that of Anglesey. To add to the problem, Anglesey lacked a commercial presence in the area and those that did exist were Castleman stated ‘carried out by our opponents’.⁵⁷

In order to rectify the situation, there was a determination by the estate to try and attract businesses who would bring both employment and additional voters into the borough. In April 1820 he was able to report that ‘I have nearly completed the arrangement for establishing Mr Ensor a most respectable young man and man of Property’.⁵⁸ Ensor was a glove manufacturer, and importantly for Anglesey’s political standing, he would ‘bring 3 or 4 respectable journeymen with him on whom reliance can be placed and for whom Houses will be provided’.⁵⁹ This plan was almost thwarted when Merest who had previously sat for Ilchester on Darlington’s interest was defeated when they had attempted to open the closed borough of Shaftesbury.⁶⁰ No wonder he was thought to keep the borough ‘in an almost constant state of ferment’ and ‘endeavoured by every possible means to make voters dissatisfied’.⁶¹ In order to defeat Anglesey, not only had Merest introduced another glove factory, but worryingly he would bring a further 15 workmen from Yeovil to ‘occupy new houses’.⁶² In an attempt to counteract this move by the opposition, Castleman persuaded Messrs. Thompson who manufactured sails to set up a branch in Milborne Port. He stated that the foreman would immediately take possession of one of the vote houses, and the business would employ ‘such of the votes who have become accustomed to the trade and who are now working as Labourers or are employed by our opponents’.⁶³ There had been an earlier attempt to establish a sail manufactory in 1820 when Mr. Plowman had agreed to take premises at Milborne Port. He had been part of the company at East Coker from whom the Marquis of Anglesey had ordered sails for his yacht ‘Esmeralda’. According to the correspondence, Plowman would have needed some additional support, and it was in Castleman’s opinion worth the effort as ‘he will employ many persons and will become a powerful support to the Cause’.⁶⁴ It was hoped that with all of these businesses, Anglesey would continue to use his influence. He had already done so with Ensor when he had persuaded Colonel Thornhill to purchase ‘400 pair of Gloves for his Regiment’.⁶⁵ Running electoral boroughs required more business acumen than political prowess, and this is a factor which is often overlooked. In many respects the process of setting up a range of trades in the borough was expensive, but as seen in Chap. 4 they were of much benefit in 1830 after Swing when these enterprises played a part in raising family standards of living by employing women.

In the end Darlington was not defeated by a scorching election victory but by something as simple as an exchange of property with Winchester College and the Bishop of Hereford.⁶⁶ As a result of these talks, Anglesey exchanged land in Dorset for the rectory of Milborne Port through an agreement ratified in a private Act of Parliament obtained on 17 June 1824.⁶⁷ At this point Castleman believed that Anglesey controlled 198 votes and Darlington 146 out of a franchised electorate of 344. This gave Anglesey a majority of at least 52.⁶⁸ Consequently realising that he could now no longer gain a majority, Darlington sold his property to Lord Anglesey at a price of £5901 which included £2500 for his political influence.⁶⁹ There were further complications to this deal as the Marquis of Anglesey did not have the ready cash to buy out Darlington, and thus Castleman organised a loan from Mr. Bankes for some £10,000; this has already been discussed in Chap. 2. To ensure that Anglesey’s interest could never again be challenged when Henning’s glove factory came up for sale, Castleman wrote:

It is certainly desirable that your Lordship should be the owner of this property not only with a view to prevent future oppositions from the adverse ownership of it but also for the purpose of retaining the decided superiority you at present have over Sir William Medleycott.⁷⁰

The property failed to sell at auction, and although Feaver was contracted to purchase the building, he could not raise the money to complete the purchase. The risk of waiting for either a fall in price or another purchaser to make a move was a dangerous game to play, and it seemed sensible to pay the asking price of £1650. Anglesey weighed the different options and concluded ‘I think it advisable to give the sum now required by Mr Merest notwithstanding always that I should be free from all dispute with Henning’s representative & with Feaver’.⁷¹ On weighing up the component elements of the borough, ‘a great number of the vote houses’ were occupied by the workmen of Ensor, George Feaver, a linen manufacturer, and Thompson in the sail cloth manufactory all of whom all could be relied upon for support. In the new town, however, many of the houses were occupied by the workmen of Wilmington who rented the glove factory now offered for sale. While Castleman believed that Wilmington and his men might be prepared to support Anglesey, he thought those of Feaver (Darlington’s agent) would not. He still thought that to be thoroughly safe, any tenants who were uncertain supporters should be removed immediately and replaced with new tenants who had to occupy the houses for six months before they were eligible to vote.⁷² This would be time-consuming and come with a resultant cost, but there was a general agreement that there was no other option.

Securing a borough, even a small one, as seen here was expensive. Yet if the Marquis wanted to continue to exert the power that he had previously enjoyed, then a crucial and sudden increase in expenditure was vital. All of the decisions made had a significant financial impact on the estate, as somehow the money had to be found. Often as in the case of the purchase price for Darlington’s properties, Castleman organised some form of mortgage or loan. Undoubtedly these had to be paid back and regular sums of interest which became due had to be found on a regular basis. Historians have tended to concentrate on patronage, deference or the emergence of political parties, but these histories omit the detailed financial resources needed even in the smallest of boroughs.⁷³ In this situation there was great pressure not just to ensure that the properties were tenanted but that they were rented to the right sort of person who could be relied on politically. Besides trying to find the funds needed to take on Darlington, the responsibility of running the borough’s business fell to the land agent; this included organising the canvas, keeping a watchful eye on events within Milborne Port and paying for the various aspects of the poll on the occasions when one was held. In this sense the various transactions of the borough fell within Castleman’s remit, and these could take a considerable amount of juggling to run smoothly.

Managing the Election Process

It was not the passive nature of the unreformed electorate which fostered and maintained political stability but its vitality, flexibility and not infrequently a healthy injection of cash. The electoral system itself created a framework within which patrons, voters and men across the social spectrum could make the concessions and agreements necessary to maintain electoral and thus political steadfastness. Outside the few seats which were secure, the majority did not assume that all election results were a foregone conclusion. Electoral support had thus to be earned and could only be achieved through hard work, organisation and currying favour. Even when there was a modicum of security, maintaining voter loyalty and consistency was time-consuming, expensive and delicate.⁷⁴ At the very least, someone had to be responsible for the interests of the constituency, and with Anglesey being an absentee patron, this fell to his agent. Voters were a ‘fickle and demanding lot’ who knew how to twist the electoral system to their benefit not only in terms of understanding the value of their votes but also in low poor rates, rent abatements, local offices and the provision of favours. These were all bargaining tools and ones which they were prepared to employ; thus as O’Gorman argues the patron–voter relationship was an ‘implied’ mutual obligation and not servile dependency.⁷⁵ The vote he suggests acted as a form of currency which could be used to purchase an array of wares which might include payments for time and troubles incurred, food and of course alcohol. These payments fell within the understood electoral framework and operated within a given set of values and were not created by the system.⁷⁶

In a modern electoral system, canvassing has two purposes: it serves to identify and mobilise support and allows the candidates to introduce themselves to those who live in the constituency as well as provide an opportunity to advertise party policies. As borough constituencies were relatively small, a prospective candidate could carry out much of the canvas personally. Electors could hardly remain ignorant of either an election or the preferred choice of the patron of the borough when personally solicited by the candidate himself. An electoral procedure such as this allowed the voter greater participation in the process and it was usual for an elector’s choice during the canvas to correspond closely to his vote on polling day. That he was able to verbalise his decision in front of the local candidate John Phillips argues aided in the process of politicisation.⁷⁷ In both unreformed England and for a long time after the 1832 Great Reform Act, the canvas had a range of other functions, perhaps the most important of which was establishing whether an election was needed. By avoiding the need for a poll, it was possible to dispense with all the financial and organisational demands and thus save considerable expense not just monetary but also the time and effort of local agents. The aim of the initial canvas was, therefore, firstly to assess the mood of the borough/constituency in order to determine whether a poll was in fact needed and secondly to estimate the character of the contest.⁷⁸ Defining a contested constituency, simply as one, where votes were recorded on polling day, is misleading. This suggested a degree of limited political activity, whereas the preliminary canvas carried out by the candidates determined the outcome of the election. It might be in the initial stages that there was a contest, and when candidates realised that they could not win, withdrew.⁷⁹ Essentially during the canvas, it was necessary to talk to as many voters as possible to ascertain how they might be expected to vote at the poll. The results were then assessed as to the likelihood of returning specific candidates and then one or two would withdraw mitigating the need for an election.⁸⁰

Canvassing then was an important preliminary to an election contest, but O’Gorman suggests that it was more than a mere political event. Like the customary rights discussed in Chap. 4, there was a host of rituals which surrounded this process and not just when an election was called. In a hierarchical society, such as an estate, canvassing was influenced by social and economic factors. It was accepted in this type of community that those who had influence over others on the basis of property, employment, custom, family and personal connections would use it. In county as well as borough elections, elite landowners were thought to have a genuine and justifiable influence over their tenants and dependents.⁸¹ It was essential that those thinking of standing as a candidate attained the support of landlords long before an election was called. For example, in 1841 Mr. Sheridan wrote to the Marquis of Anglesey proposing himself as a potential candidate in any future election. He had heard a rumour that the standing member for the county was intending to retire when parliament was next dissolved. The letter was to register his interest well ahead of any competition. Sheridan stated: ‘If you can grant me the aid of your valuable assistance to secure to me this great object of my ambition I shall ever feel most grateful …. I hope if necessary that I may be favoured by your active support’.⁸² Although he received Anglesey’s backing, he never actually became MP for Dorset. Instead he was returned as member for the borough of Shaftesbury from 1845 to 1852 and then Dorchester until his retirement in 1868. In some areas, where the landed influence was particularly strong, canvassing was in many respects an extension of the estate’s management and leadership systems. Ultimately, the landowner had a very powerful call upon the electoral loyalty of his people, and this principle was clearly and universally understood. This meant that a tenant would often refuse to state where his first vote would be cast and often his second until he had received clear instructions from his landlord.⁸³ The length of time devoted to canvassing varied as to whether it was a county, where the process might take six to ten weeks, or a small borough where the duration might simply be a day or two at most.

Borough politics needed more attention than simply undertaking the canvas when an election was called; this was especially true when there was a challenge to the prevailing patron. As a result, the electorate needed to be tended, cultivated and treated on a continual and regular basis which brought with it an ongoing expense. William Castleman understood the importance of the borough of Milborne Port from the beginning of his agency. Knowing that he would need to keep a close eye on events, to keep expenditure down and to nip any discontent in the bud, he set up a committee of Anglesey’s supporters. He stated that they were tasked to meet fortnightly to ‘discuss such subjects as arise from time to time in the Boro and to communicate the result to me’.⁸⁴ However, things did not progress as hoped, and the petty jealousies that were exhibited within the group caused chaos. As a result, Castleman was forced to spend three days in the borough in the middle of November 1819 to ‘set matters right again’. Rather than try and get this group to work in practice it was scrapped, and he determined that as long as Milborne Port continued in its present state ‘to go thither every five or six weeks to endeavour to keep matters in the right train’.⁸⁵ This was not the only measure put in place to tempt the electorate to remain loyal. In November 1820 it had come to his notice that the friends of Lord Darlington were ‘treating’ the voters at a private house with free drinks. In trying to vie for votes in this way, there was a worry that some of the electorate had already changed sides.⁸⁶ The estate’s response was to organise the renovation of the ‘long room and Cellar’ at Canon Court so that they might provide similar entertainment.⁸⁷ Arrangements were made for strong beer to be brewed locally and ‘cyder’ purchased.⁸⁸ Some idea of the quantities of strong beer brewed and purchased for this purpose can be seen in Table 5.2.⁸⁹

Table 5.2 Beer brewed at the Queen’s Head Inn and purchased by the estate in 1820–1821

On top of the beer and cider, the intention was to buy a hogshead of port and another of white wine and a cask of brandy and rum. Overall, the total cost of the original stock, it was suggested, ‘will not be much short of £200’.⁹⁰ On top of these sums, the accounts for Michaelmas 1820 reveal that Highmore was paid £10 15s 6d to transport the wine and spirits.⁹¹ A further receipt in 1826 detailed the prices the estate expended on other types of alcohol such as 69 gallons of port wine at £52 10s 0d, 59 gallons of suspension Cape Madeira at £23 12s 0d and 10 gallons of best brandy at £13. Altogether with a cask for the brandy, cartage and £3 to Mr. Adams ‘for his trouble’, the estate spent £92 18s 8d, but there was no charge for the hogshead cask which was customary.⁹² Interestingly the bill contained instructions on how to clear the Cape Madeira with egg whites, and if not ‘potent’ enough, it was suggested that two quarts of brandy should be added.⁹³ There can be no doubt that the intention was to ensure that Anglesey’s tenants were aware of their importance and understood that their landlord appreciated their electoral allegiance which was illustrated by his generous provisions. Fostering loyalty came at a price and continued throughout the election cycle; like elsewhere on the estate, any monetary outlay had to be value for money and targeted where it would have most effect. Local politics, at least here, had economic and financial undertones which are frequently neglected in the historiography. That said, for Castleman, nothing was left to chance.

Arranging get-togethers and dinners for tenants allowed the estate to remain abreast of the tone, nature, happenings and gossip in the borough which in itself rewarded the spending of money on the tenants. Even so Castleman was not above paying for information as the accounts for Michaelmas 1820 reveal. He recorded, ‘Paid S Longman for his trouble getting information relative to the Borough’ £1 5s 0d and to Robert Buckland 7s 6d for ‘endeavouring to obtain information of attempts at bribery by Mr Feaver’.⁹⁴ Although women had no political status, E. A. Smith argues that they were effective canvassers and were an effective source of information; this was particularly true of Mrs. Owen, the wife of a local rector.⁹⁵ He reported to Anglesey: ‘I find Mrs Owen a most zealous friend to our Cause and from her occasional communications with Feaver I get very valuable information from her’.⁹⁶ Although there was no monetary payment for the intelligence passed by Mrs. Owen, there were other expectations. Her husband had recently applied for the living at Ryme Intrinseca and there was an inherent perception that Anglesey would use his influence to obtain him the post. Castleman, however, advocated that she played an essential role in observing the opposition and was instrumental in passing the knowledge she obtained to the ‘right ear’. Anglesey wanted the best of both worlds and hoped that Owen would obtain the living but remain at Milborne Port.⁹⁷

William Castleman’s careful management ensured that Anglesey never lost his patronage, even when challenged. An inferior agent could, as Henry Bankes found, spell disaster at the poll. He wrote to Anglesey (then Lord Uxbridge) in 1806 concerning the collapse of his Dorset campaign. He thanked Uxbridge for his kind offers of support but regretted to inform him that they were completely ineffectual. He stated that ‘your Lordship’s Steward Mr James, having permitted all your tenants to vote against me, on the first day of the election, without waiting for your instructions’.⁹⁸ Bankes reinforced the idea that it was not unusual for the steward to have opposing views to his ‘master’ and certainly on this occasion ‘the influence and power of the former’.⁹⁹ This type of juxtaposed ideas meant that chief agents were not always trusted by the candidates; instead some liked to have a friend or relative to take overall charge of their campaigns.¹⁰⁰ At Milborne Port Anglesey left this part of the process to his agent, who by treating the tenants and paying for information was able to control even the unrulier elements of the borough, despite necessary absences to undertake other aspects of estate management. In other words, as already argued in the Introduction, the man who was left to manage an estate mattered, especially when a range of skills was needed, and in the case of politics, he had to be flexible and able to co-ordinate a process that could be chaotic.

Once an election was called, the electoral machinery started to move. Candidates were expected to canvas personally. They were judged not so much on their skill as a politician, but instead were evaluated on traits which included family, place of residence, wealth, opinions and personality. A potential candidate was also expected to have at least a basic knowledge of the constituency where he intended to stand and its inhabitants. He needed to be a visual force, able to mix with the electorate. To reach the biggest number of people, both public and civic buildings were frequently utilised either to deliver speeches or as meeting spaces. Once the canvas commenced, little significance was given to what the candidate said or did; instead the real crux was simply to be seen and displayed to as many of the electorate as possible.¹⁰¹ Despite the importance of being present at the right moment, sensibilities of politeness, decorum and respectability had to be taken into account. Essentially this meant that a candidate could only appear the day after nominations had been made. Consequently, time could be short. Providing someone had been managing an interest, the necessary groundwork had already been carried out. Just how brief the canvas might be was evident in a letter from Castleman to one of the candidates in the 1830 election. He wrote on 14 July 1814 that in light of the reports now appearing in the newspapers, the dissolution of parliament could be expected to take place on ‘Saturday next’. If that was the case, then the ‘writs’ would be sent by that night’s mail to the sheriff of the different counties. That would allow the notices to be given on Sunday, and, according to the ‘Bridport Case in 1784’, then the election could take place on ‘the Thursday following’. This would therefore leave three days between the day in which the notice was issued and the poll itself; however, if the notice was not given until Monday, then the election could not take place before Friday.¹⁰² The two candidates, Captain Byng and Mr. Bourne, were advised that they should present themselves at Milborne Port the same night as the notice was given. If that was not possible, then they should both be in the borough by twelve or one o’clock the following morning so that they might commence their canvas.¹⁰³ Castleman’s presence at Milborne Port both during the canvas and any resultant election was essential, and he reassured Anglesey ‘I shall proceed to Milborne on the day the dissolution takes place’.¹⁰⁴

The customary expectations on the day of the poll were very similar to those on audit day. The voters expected to be provided with food and beverages in return for turning up. Besides the refreshments, there would have been charges for music and bell ringing as entertainment during the poll itself. The monies expended could easily mount and reflect the importance of politics as it allowed the patron to influence power both locally and nationally in parliament. The election dinner of 1831 was typical of the type of dinner that the estate provided on these occasions; see Table 5.3.¹⁰⁵

Table 5.3 Election dinner 1831

Once the election was over and hopefully the correct men returned to parliament, the election agent’s function changed to one of accountant and financial manager. He had, firstly, to gather any evidence which would be helpful if the result was challenged and secondly arrange the collection, collation and payment of the bills which had been incurred.¹⁰⁶ At this point the focus of management is entirely monetary and in theory should have been a relatively simple exercise, but as seen elsewhere, local tensions and the various personalities within the borough came into play. Even matters which on the surface were apparently simple quickly became more complicated. For example, in January 1819 Castleman reported:

I enclose all the Milborne Port Election Bills except Mr White’s and Mr Fooks’s to whom repeated applications have been made for them by both myself and a number of others, Mr F prefers delivering his Bill in person.¹⁰⁷

As soon as all the receipts had been obtained, they were then sent to the agent-in-chief for approval, and these were then returned for payment. Establishing who was paying for what part of the election could be problematic, and on a previous occasion, Castleman had found himself out of pocket. Consequently, before the approaching election of 1826, he wrote to Anglesey asking, ‘exactly what Portion of the costs is to be paid by Lord Graves and Mr Chichester and what by your Lordship’.¹⁰⁸ Understanding how much an agent might charge for his services in staging an election in a small borough is emblematically demonstrated by Castleman’s bill for that which took place in 1831. For the work undertaken between 30 May and 12 July, he charged the estate £93 16s 4d which included £5 5s 0d as a retainer and £31 10s 0d for the journey to Milborne Port and five days canvassing for himself and his son in June. On 11 July a further £17 27s 0d was added for travelling again to the borough to prepare for the poll itself; other items listed are chaise hire, ‘writing many letters’ previous to the election and afterwards examining the bills of election and their payment.¹⁰⁹ Castleman’s time was charged at £3 3s 0d per day and this was on top of his £500 annual salary. According to Smith, complaints against dishonest or inefficient agents can be found in the correspondence of every political man of the period.¹¹⁰ The rising cost of elections and any disorder were often laid at the door of the agent. Yet, William Castleman seems to have managed to juggle all the problems in the borough, fighting off the challenge by Lord Darlington by organising an exchange of land with Winchester College, finding ways to treat the voters within the clearly defined framework of nineteenth-century canvassing and ensuring that voters who would could be relied upon were those to whom vote houses were let. Despite his hard work in consolidating the borough of Milborne, one short comment suggests that Castleman did not agree with Anglesey’s politics. In a letter from June 1841, he commented, ‘Your Lordship has alluded to my political sentiments which are well known to you but I trust your Lordship will believe that I shall in no way allow them to influence or interfere with the course which my duty as your Lordship’s Agent … will lead me to pursue’.¹¹¹ Even after the Great Reform Act of 1832 and the disenfranchisement of Milborne Port, he remained closely in touch with county politics and the representation of Anglesey’s interests in the locality.

The Great Reform Act of 1832

Political change came in 1832 with the Great Reform Act and while this volume acknowledges the vast historiography surrounding this Act, it is not intended to review it here in anything other than a cursory manner. The old system had been viewed as corrupt, outdated and in need of modernisation so that it might meet the changing needs of a demographically diverse population. Gash argues that the principle aims of the Bill were to gather the support of the middle classes to the aristocracy. Politically he suggests the Bill had two main aims: firstly, to strengthen the constitution by gaining the support of ‘mass public opinion’ without which it was felt the gentry would not survive and, secondly, it stopped the middle classes from allying themselves too closely with the lower orders among whom it was acknowledged there existed a general state of disillusionment. The Reform Bill did not so much seek to overhaul the electoral system as to remove those ‘defects’ and ‘abuses’ which occasioned most complaint.¹¹² Under Lord Russell’s proposals, 56 boroughs would be disenfranchised of which Milborne Port was one and another 31 would be reduced to just one Member of Parliament. At the same time, 41 towns which had no form of parliamentary representation would be franchised. There were changes at county level too where the plan was to increase the number of men returned to Parliament for 34 out of the 40 counties. For some, such as Macauley, reform was the only way to save England from ‘catastrophe’. He believed that failure to do so would be devastating and warned: ‘I pray to God that none of those who concur in rejecting it may ever remember their votes with unavailing regret, amidst the wreck of laws, the spoliation of property, and the dissolution of social order’.¹¹³ Historians continue to debate the impact of the Great Reform Act on the size of the electorate. While Phillips and Wetherell argue that the bill both promised and delivered an overall increase in the number of voters by around 50 per cent,¹¹⁴ others such as Daunton take a different standpoint—he argues that in 1715 approximately 25 per cent of adult males in England and Wales held the vote. In the years leading up to 1831, this fell to 14 per cent and increased under the Reform Act to a mere 18 per cent, still well short of the eighteenth-century electorate.¹¹⁵

Elections in unreformed England were time-consuming, and further delays and expenses were often incurred as legal arguments between rival candidates broke out over the qualifications of their or the opposition’s voters. So, in an attempt to stop these difficulties, the biggest change between unreformed and reformed elections was the events which happened before the poll took place. There was the introduction of a new annual voter registration which would determine who could or could not vote. Laying out the criteria took up around a third of the Act itself.¹¹⁶ Before 1832 electors had had to establish their right to vote at the poll itself, and as already seen, this could go on to cause huge problems and petitions sent to parliament which required legal representation and the resultant cost in legal counsel fees. At the core of this issue were the difficulties around establishing who in the borough were £10 householders or in the counties £50 occupiers and who had been in residence long enough to be entitled to vote. By separating the business of claiming the vote from that of casting it, the government sought to remove party rivalry from the process of scrutinising and verifying voters.¹¹⁷ Instead of the vote just being given at election time and only then in the event of a poll actually taking place, the franchise now had to be acquired annually irrespective of whether an election took place. In an annual procedure lasting almost five months, individual voters had to submit their claim, check any pre-prepared lists and see that their names and addresses had been correctly recorded. When all of this had been done, a one shilling registration fee was paid; to comply with all the regulations, any outstanding local taxes had to be paid in full by a given date, and only then would a name be added to a provisional electoral roll. In an attempt to eliminate men who did not meet the qualifications, any person claiming the right to vote had to be prepared to ‘defend’ this entitlement against any possible objection in court, often at only three days’ notice.¹¹⁸

Overall it has been suggested that placing the onus on the individual to enrol increased electoral participation. There was a worry that at least some of those who had acquired the vote in 1832 were either unclear or ignorant of the fact. In June a letter to the agent-in-chief reiterated the above fact stating that ‘persons claiming to vote are required to have met with the particulars of their claims on or before the 20th July’.¹¹⁹ He was concerned that ‘many of the Copyholders and others under the Marquis of Anglesey’s influence may be ignorant of the fact of their having acquired a title to vote’.¹²⁰ If Anglesey wished to continue to exert any form of political influence in the area, then it was essential that those who lived within the estate should register to vote in good time. In the event of Anglesey’s acquiescence, the necessary enquiries would take time and would undoubtedly fall outside of the remit of the normal land agent’s duties. It would of course be feasible to send ‘the best instructions in writing’, but he doubted whether such measures would prove satisfactory at the beginning of this new process.¹²¹ In other words it would be far more beneficial to pay Castleman a fee and ensure the job was completed satisfactorily.

The disenfranchisement of Milborne Port had financial consequences not least of which was the decision in 1837 to sell off the borough. Those who had been employed as subagents found themselves unemployed in the wake of the Great Reform Act as no further use could be found for them.¹²² Highmore fared a little better and was eventually granted £20 per annum in lieu of his ‘long and faithful service as Agent for the Borough’.¹²³ Highmore still owed the estate large sums of money, and it was hoped that he would use the allowance as a contribution to his outstanding debt. Although there might be individual losses, the estate stood to claw back some of the monies it had spent on a regular basis. Feasts which had been customary such as the annual bread and cheese event for the tenants were to continue as a tradition. Others though came to an end including regular shipments of a London newspaper to the borough. Although Highmore was to continue to receive an annual pension, this was a fall from the 50 pounds he had been paid previously. The expenses of the borough court would be reduced to that of the jury at similar courts, that is around two guineas per year, and the expense of the capital bailiffs would cease. By 1841 Anglesey’s influence was waning at county level too, perhaps because it was becoming clear that the estate was likely to be sold off. As a result, tenant loyalty began to falter as it seemed the sale would be sooner rather than later. Worried by this swing, Castleman wrote to Anglesey stating that the Dorset County Chronicle had published a list of voters which indicated that the rector and nine tenants at Stalbridge, including some of the most influential tenants, had pledged their support to Mr. Bankes.¹²⁴ Deference, it might thus be argued, was freely given when the landowner sought to work for his tenants, but selling the estate broke the established stands of loyalty and the tenants looked to others who would act in their interest.

Conclusion

Politics even in a small borough such as Milborne Port were complicated and affected by the influence of the local landowner and the foibles and idiosyncrasies of the local electorate. While a substantial historiography exists, close textual studies of estate politics provide an added sense of rural communities and the ways in which they worked. Rural relationships were often fragile and fickle. Anglesey and his agent understood the need to manipulate the electorate which essentially meant buying voter loyalty, thus turning politics into a financial and economic issue. Election victory was never a certainty, and the double-vote system meant that tenants and those entitled to vote expected to be canvassed and treated once an election had been called. Voting rights have close links with the working and social relationships of Chaps. 3 and 4, in that a tenant of certain properties expected to have bestowed on them enfranchisement. In many respects the political status of tenants was an accepted customary right and withdrawal was not an option. The Great Reform Act while it disenfranchised the borough there remains an innate sense within the archive that Castleman continued to influence county elections at least until 1841. Although the electorate was small, it was not confined entirely to either the aristocracy or gentry thus creating a sense that ‘ordinary’ men had the right to reaffirm or change the prevailing government. Social and political change was possible, but as seen here voting against a patron’s chosen candidate could result in eviction. If money was to be spent in building and maintaining properties in the borough, then at least the tenant should be one that could be relied on to vote in Anglesey’s interest. Petitions it is argued allowed both men and women who had no political voice a chance to air their opinions and an expectation that they would be listened to and the issues debated. Ultimately, any petitions that came from the electorate and presented to parliament would require Castleman to provide an opinion, and so with the anti-Catholic petition, he attempted to distance himself from its compilation. The early nineteenth century, it has been argued, witnessed an expanding interest in political affairs that extended beyond the borough and county borders. The mere fact that the estate paid for a London newspaper to be available locally, possibly in the King’s Head, suggests a growing awareness of national and regional affairs.¹²⁵

To fight an election, even when there was no contest, cost considerable sums of money and could take the land agent away from his main task of managing the estate. In the event a result was challenged, there would be additional and of considerable legal fees, and any enquiry undertaken by a Select Committee would have added to this financial burden. Elections and maintaining a borough did not come cheap. When faced with Darlington’s takeover attempt, the estate had to move quickly and in the end was left with no other options than to rent Medleycott’s premises which cost around £400 per annum. This added to the fiscal expense of the election process. Furthermore, Castleman was forced to enter the rental payments of tenants in these properties monthly thus taking up considerably more of his time than any of the other tenants. After the Great Reform Act, the borough which had aided in diversifying and extending Anglesey’s patronage lost its importance and was sold off. There was nothing particularly unusual here; as already seen in the Introduction, the estate had regularly sold off areas that became a financial burden.

A study of the borough of Milborne Port reveals a remarkably efficient network of electioneering created by the agent and established a prism in which was played out many aspects of local life. At the apex of these local links sat William Castleman, balancing the finances and organising events like the canvas in much the same way as collecting the rent. The election process in many ways mirrors the management of the estate itself, including the way in which decisions made were underpinned with a financial consideration. Monies had to be found to fight off any opposition; tenants and other voters managed so that they not only understood for whom they should vote but that these intentions were reflected on polling day. Castleman’s skills in handling money were invaluable, and it was easy for him to adapt his daily working practices to running and organising the electoral process. Nineteenth-century elections often elucidated and ‘propped up’ the existing structure of local society. They are as much a part of the financial history of this estate as the day-to-day economics of collecting the rents or letting farms. Anglesey intended to bolster his influence through his patronage within the area, and somehow Castleman as in all else had to find the money to fulfil his employer’s ambitions.