The pageant of Parliament, vol. 1 of 2

CHAPTER XVIII
DEBATE ON THE ADDRESS TO THE KING

1

The Commons hear the Speech from the Throne twice—by the Sovereign in the House of Lords and again at its subsequent recital in their own Chamber by the Speaker. Macaulay states in his History that the first Speech of James II to Parliament in 1685—notable for its extraordinary admonition to the Commons, that if they wished to meet frequently they must treat him generously in the matter of supplies—was greeted with loud cheers by the Tory Members assembled at the Bar of the House of Lords. “Such acclamations were then usual,” says the historian. “It has now been during many years the grave and decorous usage of Parliaments to hear in respectful silence all expressions, acceptable or unacceptable, which are uttered from the Throne.” The recital of the King’s Speech by Mr. Speaker to the House of Commons was unmarked by any demonstration of Party feeling for two centuries and a quarter. But at the opening of the last session of the Balfour Parliament, in February 1905, there was a breach of the traditional decorum, which, as a change in parliamentary manners, is noteworthy enough to be placed on record. The promise in the Speech of economy, “so far as the circumstances of the case admitted,” was received with derisive laughter on the Opposition benches, while the mention of the “prospect” of a promised Redistribution Bill, by which Ireland was to lose twenty-two seats, provoked loud and angry cries of defiance from the Irish Members. Since then the reading of the Speech by the Speaker in the Commons, whether at the opening of a new Parliament or a new session, is usually greeted with Ministerial shouts of approbation or Opposition cries of dissent. These Party cheers constitute a complete acknowledgment that the King’s Speech is the speech, not of the King, but of his Ministers.

2

In each House a motion for an Address to the King for his “most gracious Speech” is submitted on behalf of the Government. The proposer and seconder of the Address in each House are in uniform or full dress. This is the only occasion, be it noted, when a Member, whether of the Peerage or of the Commons, is permitted to appear in Parliament otherwise than in civilian clothes, a rule which, probably in the history of Parliament, was suspended only during the Great War, when many Members wore khaki. The uniforms of the Militia or Yeomanry are much affected, and, failing the commission to wear them, Court costume or levee dress is the rule. Another order, which prohibits Members of either House from “carrying a lethal weapon,” is also suspended for the occasion in favour of the sword of the soldier or courtier. There is, however, one instance of the Address having been seconded by a Member who wore no costume of ceremony. That was when Charles Fenwick, the Labour representative, who at the opening of the first session of the Liberal Parliament of 1893-95 discharged that function in his ordinary everyday clothes.

In March 1894 the same Liberal Administration being in office—save that Lord Rosebery had succeeded Gladstone as Premier—an amendment to the Address moved by Labouchere, Member for Northampton, hostile to the House of Lords, was carried against the Government by the narrow majority of two—147 votes to 145. It declared “that the power now enjoyed by persons not elected to Parliament by the possessors of the parliamentary franchise to prevent Bills being submitted to your Majesty for your Royal approval shall cease,” and expressed the hope that “if it be necessary your Majesty will, with and by the advice of your responsible Ministers, use the powers vested in your Majesty to secure the passing of this much-needed reform.” The method suggested by Labouchere was the creation of 500 peers who would be willing to carry through the House of Lords a Bill for the abolition of that Chamber and themselves. Sir William Harcourt, Chancellor of the Exchequer and Leader of the House of Commons, declined to treat the reverse as a vote of censure, or to add the amendment to the Address. “The Address in answer to the Speech from the Throne,” said he, “is a proceeding for which her Majesty’s Government make themselves responsible—responsible as the representatives of the majority in the House of Commons from whom that Address proceeds. I think that is a clear constitutional principle which nobody will be disposed to dispute. The Government could not present to the Sovereign in a formal manner a document of which they are not prepared to accept the entire and immediate responsibility.” He concluded by inviting the House to negative the amended Address, and to adopt a new Address, which simply assured her Majesty “that the measures recommended to our consideration shall receive our most careful attention.” This motion was seconded by John Morley.

The fact that neither of these Ministers wore Court dress or uniform led that humourist, Colonel Saunderson, Member for North Armagh, to indulge in a characteristic joke. Rising to a point of order, he asked the Speaker whether it was not contrary to the immemorial practice of the House for the mover of the Address to appear without the uniform befitting his rank? If, he continued, the Speaker should answer that question in the affirmative, he would move the adjournment of the House for twenty minutes, so as to give the Chancellor of the Exchequer an opportunity of arraying himself in garments suitable to the occasion. The Speaker took no notice of the question, for, of course, it was not seriously intended. What Colonel Saunderson wanted was a laugh, and that he got in the fullest measure. The incident, unprecedented in parliamentary history, ended with the unanimous adoption of the new Address.

Another strange thing happened in relation to the Speech from the Throne at the opening of a new session on February 12, 1918. I was in the Reporters’ Gallery of the House of Lords when the Lord Chancellor read the Speech at the reassembling of the House after the opening ceremony by the King. As he was reading the document, Lord Curzon, Leader of the House, handed him a slip of paper. The Lord Chancellor then said that the following passage had been accidentally omitted from the printed copy of the King’s Speech, which was supplied to him and distributed to their lordships:

It had also been omitted, by some oversight, from the copy of the Speech given by the Lord Chancellor to the King to read from the Throne. Attention was called to the matter in the House of Commons. The Member for Carlisle, Mr. Denman, pointed out that this paragraph was to be found in the Lords’ record of the King’s Speech, but not in the record of the King’s Speech printed in the Votes and Proceedings of the Commons. He thought it desirable that the records of both Houses as to what was actually contained in the King’s Speech should be identical. The Speaker, Mr. Lowther, said the hon. Member seemed to want him to put into the mouth of the King words which his Majesty did not use—a remark that was received with laughter. He explained that the copy of the Speech which he had read to the Commons had been supplied to him by the Home Secretary, and he assumed it to be accurate. It was brought to his notice afterwards that the copy of the Speech which he had read did not correspond with the copy which had been read by the King, and therefore he caused the official record to be amended so as to correspond exactly with the actual Speech which his Majesty had read from the Throne.

3

It is a compliment to be invited to move or second the motion for the Address in reply to the Speech. Young Ministerialists of promise in the House of Commons are generally selected for the distinction. As a rule, one represents an urban and the other a rural constituency; one is associated with agriculture and the other with trade. The debate which follows is always of interest, and usually is a good test of the debating quality of the House. The Opposition give battle to the Ministerialists. The policy of the Government is attacked along the whole line in a series of amendments to the Address.

In former times the Address—as I have already mentioned—used to be an elaborate answer to the Speech, paragraph by paragraph, expressing approval of its every declaration, and thanking the Sovereign in each instance for the great condescension and wisdom of his words. This practice was abandoned owing to the waste of time it involved, and for many years the Address has assumed a more simple and rational form. From the Commons it consists of a simple resolution in the following terms:

The Addresses from the Lords and Commons, in reply to the Speech, were at one time presented to the Sovereign at Buckingham Palace, nominally by “the whole House” in each case, but really by the Lord Chancellor for the Lords and by the Speaker for the Commons, each being attended by the proposer and seconder and a few of the Ministers in either House. All the Members of each House, however, were supposed to have the privilege of “free access” to the Throne on these occasions; and, moreover, they might, if they so pleased, enter the presence of the Sovereign in ordinary attire, instead of in the regulation gold-braided coat and knee-breeches. The ceremony of presenting the Address by the whole House is now obsolete. The course which has been followed in recent years is that the Addresses are presented by two Ministers who are members of the Royal Household. These Ministers also bring back to both Houses the King’s acknowledgment of the Addresses.

A message from the Crown, or, as it is styled officially, “a message under the Royal sign-manual,” is presented to both Houses with some ceremony. In the Lords, the Lord Steward of the Household, wearing his official uniform, holding a white wand in one hand and a roll of parchment in the other, rises in his place at an opportune moment and announces that he has a message from the King. He then hands his roll of parchment to the Lord Chancellor, who reads it to the House. In the Commons the incident is perhaps a little more picturesque. The Comptroller of the Household appears at the Bar unannounced. Unlike the incursions of “Black Rod” from the House of Lords, who is always heralded by the loud cry of the door-keeper, and must knock at the door to obtain admittance, the Royal Messenger who brings the King’s acknowledgment of the Address has free entry to the House. He comes in, without fuss or noise, and, his duty discharged, is allowed to depart silently and in peace. Standing at the Bar, in his dark uniform relieved by a liberal display of gold braid and gilt buttons, and carrying his long white wand, he announces to the House—the Speaker standing and the Members uncovering while the Message from the King is being delivered—that he brings his Majesty’s most grateful thanks for the Address from his faithful Commons. Then advancing to the Table, he hands the document to the Clerk, and it is passed on to the Speaker, by whom it is read to the House. The Comptroller of the Royal Household retires, stepping backwards, bowing to the Chair, until the Bar is reached, when, turning round, he disappears through the swing-doors. But this happens a week or more after the Address has been adopted, and the work of Parliament has begun in real earnest.