Authors: George W. M. Reynolds,James Malcolm Rymer
and sorrows, I will smile when
you smile - I will console you when you weep. I will serve you - upon my knees
will I serve you ;- I will never weary of doing your bidding. But - O God! do
not, do not refuse me the only prayer which I have now to offer to mortal
man!"
"Ellen, this is impossible! My position - my interest -
my plans render marriage - at present - a venture in which I cannot embark."
"You reject my supplication - you throw me back into
disgrace and despair," cried Ellen: "Oh! reflect well upon what you
are doing!"
"Listen to me," said Mr. Greenwood. "Ask me
any thing that money can purchase, and you shall have it, Say the word, and you
shall have a house - a home - furnished in all imaginable splendour; and
measures shall be taken to conceal your situation from the world."
"No - this is not what I ask," returned Ellen.
"The wealth of the universe cannot recompense me if I am to pass as
Mr. Greenwood's pensioned mistress!"
"Then what, in the name of heaven, do you now require
of me?" demanded the Member of Parliament impatiently.
"That you should do me justice," was the reply,
while Ellen still remained upon her knees.
"Do you justice!" repeated Greenwood: "and
how have I wronged you? If I deliberately set to work to seduce you - if, by
art and treachery, I wiled you away from the paths of duty - if, by false
promises, I allured you from a prosperous and happy sphere,- then might you
talk to me of justice. But no: I knew not whom I was about to meet when the old
hag came to me that day, and said —"
"Enough! enough! I understand you," cried Ellen,
rising from her suppliant position, and clasping her hands despairingly
together. "You consider that you purchased me as you would have bought any
poor girl who, through motives of vanity, gain, or lust, would have sold her
person to the highest bidder! Oh - now I understand you! But, one word, Mr.
Greenwood! If there were no such voluptuaries - such heartless libertines as
you in this world, would there be so many poor unhappy creatures like me? In an
access of despair - of folly - and of madness, I rushed upon a path which men
like you alone open to women placed as I then was! Perhaps you consider that I
am not worthy to become your wife? Fool that I was to seek redress - to hope
for consolation at your hands! Your conduct to others - to my father - to
—"
"Ellen! I command you to be silent! Remember our solemn
compact on that day when we met in so strange and mysterious a manner;-
remember that we pledged ourselves to mutual silence - silence with respect to
all we know of each other! Do you wish to break that compact?"
"No - no," ejaculated Ellen, convulsively clasping
her hands together: "I would not have you publish my disgrace! Happily I
have yet friends who will - but no matter. Sir, I now leave you: I have your
answer. You refuse to give a father's some to the child which I bear? You may
live to repent your decision. For the present, farewell."
And having condensed all her agonising feelings to a moment
of unnatural coolness - the awful calmness of despair - Ellen slowly left the
room.
But Mr. Greenwood did not breathe freely until so heard the
front door close behind her.
THE HOUSE OF COMMONS
THE building in which the representatives of the nation assemble
at Westminster, is about as insignificant, ill-contrived, and inconvenient a
place as can be well conceived. It is true that the edifices appropriated to
both Lords and Commons are both only temporary ones; nevertheless, it would
have been easy to construct halls of assembly more suitable for their purposes
than those that now exist.
The House of Commons is an oblong, with rows of plain wooden
benches on each side, leaving a space in the middle which is occupied by the
table, whereon petitions are laid. At one end of this table is the mace: at the
other, sit the clerks who record all proceedings that require to be noted.
Close behind the clerks, and at one extremity of the apartment, is the
Speaker's chair: galleries surround this hall of assembly;- the one for the
reporters is immediately over the Speaker's chair; that for strangers occupies
the other extremity of the oblong; and the two side ones are for the use of the
members. The ministers and their supporters occupy the benches on the right of
the speaker: the opposition members are seated on those to the left of that
functionary. There are also cross-benches under the strangers' gallery, where
those members who fluctuate between ministerial and opposition opinions,
occasionally supporting the one side or the other according to their pleasure
or convictions, take their place.
At each extremity of the house there is a lobby - one behind
the cross-benches, the other behind the Speaker's chair, between which and the
door of this latter lobby there is a high screen surmounted by the arms of the
united kingdom. When the House divides upon any question, those who vote for
the motion or bill pass into one lobby, and those who vote against the point in
question proceed to the other. Each party appoints its
tellers
, who station themselves at the
respective doors of the two lobbies, and count the members on either side as
they return into the house.
The house is illuminated with bude-lights, and is ventilated
by means of innumerable holes perforated through the floor, which is covered
with thick hair matting.
According to the above-mentioned arrangements of benches, it
is evident that the orator, in whatever part he may sit, almost invariably has
a considerable number of members behind him, or, at all events, sitting in
places extremely inconvenient for hearing. Then, the apartment itself is so
miserably confined, that when there is a full attendance of members, at least a
fourth cannot obtain seats.
It will scarcely be believed by those previously unaware of
the fact, that the reporters for the public press are only allowed to attend
and take notes at the proceedings
upon sufferance
. Any one member can procure the
clearance of both the reporters' and the strangers' galleries, without
assigning any reason whatever.* [* "The process of parliamentary
reporting, and the qualifications of those by whom the task is performed, cannot
be adequately described within the narrow limits of this articles but it is
hoped that the reader maybe enabled to form some idea of both from the
following brief outline. Every publication not copying from or abridging any
other, but giving original reports, keeps one of a series of reporters
constantly in the gallery of the lords, and another in the commons. These, like
sentinels, are at stated periods relieved by their colleagues, when they take
advantage of the interval to transcribe their notes, in order
to be ready again to resume the
duty of note-taking, and afterwards that of transcription for the press. A
succession of reporters for each establishment is thus maintained; and the
process of writing from their notes is never interrupted until an account of
the whole debates of the evening has been committed to the hands of the
printer. There are only seven publications for which a reporter is constantly
in attendance; and these include the London morning papers, from which all
others that give debates are under the necessity of copying or abridging them.
The number of reporters maintained by each varies from ten or eleven to
seventeen or eighteen. They are for the most part gentlemen of liberal
education - many have graduated at the Universities of Oxford, Cambridge,
Edinburgh, Glasgow, or Dublin; and they must all possess a competent knowledge
of the multifarious subjects which come under the consideration of Parliament.
The expedition and ability with which their duties are performed must be admitted
by every one who attends a debate and afterwards reads a newspaper, while the
correctness and rapidity with which their manuscript is put in type and
printed, has long been a subject of surprise and admiration.". -
The Parliamentary Companion
]
At half-past four o'clock the
members began to enter the house pretty thickly.
Near the table stood a portly happy-looking man, with a
somewhat florid and good-natured countenance, grey eyes, and reddish hair, he
was well dressed, and wore enormous watch-seals and a massive gold guard-chain.
He conversed in an easy and complacent manner with a few members who had
gathered around him, and who appeared to receive his opinions with respect and
survey him with profound admiration: this was Sir Robert Peel.
One of his principal admirers on this (as on all other
occasions) was a very stout gentleman, with dark hair, prominent features, a
full round face, eyes of a sleepy expression, and considerable heaviness of
tone and manner: this was Sir James Graham.
Close by Sir James Graham, with whom he exchanged frequent
signs of approval as Sir Robert Peel was conversing, was a small and somewhat
repulsive looking individual, with red hair, little eyes that kept constantly
blinking, a fair complexion, and diminutive features, very restless in manner,
and with a disagreeable and ill-tempered expression of countenance. When he
spoke, there was far more of gall than honey in his language; and the shafts of
his satire, though dealt at his political opponents, not unfrequently glanced
aside and struck his friends. This was Lord Stanley.
Shortly before the Speaker took the chair, a stout burly
man, accompanied by half-a-dozen representatives of the Emerald Isle, entered
the house. He was enveloped in a cloak, which he proceeded to doff in a very
leisurely manner, and then turned to make some observation to his companions.
They immediately burst out into a hearty laugh - for it was a joke that
had fallen upon their ears - a joke, too, purposely delivered in the richest Irish
brogue, and, accompanied by so comical an expression of his round good-natured
countenance that the jest was altogether irresistible. He then proceeded slowly
to his seat, saying something good-natured to his various political friends as
be passed along. His broad-brimmed hat he retained upon his head, but of his
cloak he made a soft seat. His adherents immediately crowded around him;
and while he told them some rich racy anecdote, or delivered himself of another
jest, his broad Irish countenance expanded into an expression of the most
hearty and heart-felt good humour. And yet that man had much to occupy his
thoughts and engage his attention; for he of whom we now speak was Daniel
O'Connell.
Close by Mr. O'Connell's place was seated a gentleman of most
enormously portly form, though little above the middle height. On the wrong
side of sixty, he was as hale, robust, and healthy-looking a man as could be
seen. His ample chest, massive limbs, ponderous body, and large head denoted
strength of no ordinary kind. His hair was iron-grey, rough, and bushy; his
eyes large, grey, and intelligent; his countenance rigid in expression,
although broad and round in shape. This was Joseph Hume.
Precisely at a quarter to five the Speaker took the chair;
Mr. Greenwood was then introduced by the Tory whipper-in, and (as the papers
said next morning) "took the oaths and his seat for Rottenborough."
The Whig whipper-in surveyed him with a glance of indignant
disappointment; but Mr. Greenwood affected not to notice the feeling which his
conduct had excited. On the contrary, he passed over to the Opposition benches
(for it must be remembered that the Whigs then occupied the ministerial seat)
where his accession to the Tory ranks was very warmly greeted - being the more
pleasant as it was totally unexpected - by Sir Robert Peel and the other
leaders of that party.
Mr. Greenwood was not a man to allow the grass to grow under
his feet. He accordingly delivered his "maiden speech" that very
evening. The question before the House was connected with the condition of the
poor. The new member was fortunate enough to catch the Speaker's eye in the
course of the debate; and he accordingly delivered his sentiments upon the
topic.
He declared that the idea of a diminution of duties upon
foreign produce was a mere delusion. The people, he said, were in a most
prosperous condition - they never were more prosperous; but they were eternal
grumblers whom nothing could satisfy. Although some of the most enlightened men
in the kingdom devoted themselves to the interests of the people - he alluded
to the party amongst whom he had the honour to sit - the people were not
satisfied. For his part, he thought that there was too much of what was called
freedom. He would punish all malcontents with a little wholesome exercise upon
the tread-mill. What presumption, he would like to know, could be greater than
that of the millions daring to have an opinion of their own, unless it were the
audacity of attempting to make that opinion the rule for those who sate in that
House? He was astounded when he heard the misrepresentations that had just met
his ears from honourable gentlemen opposite relative to the condition of the
working classes. He could prove that they ought to put money in the savings'-banks,
and yet it was coolly alleged that in entire districts they wanted bread. Well
- why did they not live upon potatoes? He could demonstrate, by the evidence of
chemists and naturalists that potatoes were far more wholesome than bread and
for his part he was much attached to potatoes. Indeed, he often ate, his dinner
without touching a single mouthful of bread. There was a worthy alderman at ha
right hand, who could no doubt prove to the house that bread spoilt the taste
of turtle. Was it not, then, a complete delusion to raise such a clamour about
bread? He (Mr. Greenwood) was really astonished at honourable gentlemen
opposite; and be should give their measure his most strenuous opposition at
every stage.
Mr. Greenwood sat down amidst loud cheers from the Tory
party; and Sir Robert Peel turned round and gave him a patronising nod of most
gracious approval. Indeed his speech must have created a very powerful
sensation, for upwards of fifty members
who had been previously stretched
upon the benches in the galleries, comfortably snoozing, rose up in the middle
of their nap to listen to him.
The Conservative papers next morning spoke in raptures of
the brilliancy of the new talent which had thus suddenly developed itself in
the political heaven; while the Liberal prints denounced Greenwood's language
as the most insane farrago of anti-popular trash ever heard during the present
century.
Mr. Greenwood cared nothing for these attacks. He had gained
his aims: he had already taken a stand amongst the party with whom he had
determined to act; - he had won the smiles of the leader of that party; and he
chuckled within himself as he saw baronetcies and sinecures in the perspective.
That night he could not sleep. His ideas were reflected back
to the time when, poor, obscure, and friendless, he had commenced his
extraordinary career in the City of London. A very few years had passed; he was
now rich, and in a fair way to become influential and renowned. The torch of
Fortune seemed ever to light him on his way, and never to shine obscurely for
him in the momentous affairs of life: like the fabled light of the
Rosicrucian's ever-burning lamp, the halo of that torch appeared constantly to
attend upon his steps.
Whether he thus prospered to the end, the sequel of our tale
must show.