Andover no longer sends a representative to Parliament, but in the brave old days it elected two. With a knowledge of the wholesale purchasing of votes that then went on, it will readily be perceived that Andover, with two members to elect, must have been a place flowing with milk and honey; or, less metaphorically, a happy hunting-ground for guineas and free drinks. It was somewhere about a hundred and fifty years ago that Sir Francis Blake Delaval, a prominent rake and practical humorist of the period, was canvassing Andover. One voter amid the venal herd was, to all appearance, proof against all temptations. Money, wine, place, flattery had no seductions for this stoic. The baffled candidate was beside himself in his endeavours to discover the man’s weak point; for of course it was an age in which votes were so openly bought and sold that the saying ‘Every man has his price’ was implicitly believed. Only what _was_ this particular voter’s figure? Strange to say, he had no weakness for money, but was possessed with an inordinate desire to see a fire-eater, and doubted if there existed people endowed with that remarkable power. ‘Off went Delaval to London, and returned with Angelo in a post-chaise. Angelo exerted all his genius. Fire poured from his mouth and nostrils--fire which melted that iron nature, and sent it off cheerfully to poll for Delaval!’ This was that same Delaval whose attorney sent him the following bill of costs after one of his contests:-- To being thrown out of the window of the George Inn, Andover; to my leg being thereby broken; to surgeon’s bill, and loss of time and business; all in the service of Sir Francis Delaval, £500. And cheap too. [Sidenote: _PRACTICAL JOKING_] They kept this sort of thing up for many years; not always, however, throwing solicitors out of hotel windows; although rival political factions often expressed their determination to throw one another’s candidate in the Anton, after the fashion of the bills posted in the town during a contest in the ’40’s, which announced in displayed type-- LORD HUNTINGTOWER FOR EVER! SIR JOHN POLLEN IN THE RIVER!! CATCHING FISH FOR HIS LORDSHIP’S DINNER!!! History does not satisfy us on the point whether or not those furious partisans carried out their threat; or whether, if they did, their victim afforded good bait.