The peace proved to be no more than a temporary suspension of hostilities, and England's refusal to surrender Malta, which she had recovered in 1800, and which she had covenanted by the terms of the treaty to surrender to France under certain guarantees, served Napoleon for an excuse to renew the war. On the 12th May, 1803, Lord Whitworth, the British ambassador, quitted Paris, where he had been subjected to much rudeness by the First Consul, and at the same time the French ambassador was directed to leave London. Much as the City disliked war, and eager as it had been for peace, the Common Council were among the first to express their determination to support the king and country "against the insatiable ambition of the French Republic."[642]

As soon as war was declared Pitt, after a prolonged absence in the country, re-appeared in the House, and in an impassioned speech, lasting two hours and a half, expatiated upon the justice and necessity of the war. This took place on the 3rd May. Two months later (22 July) he urged the House to take measures for the fortification of London itself:—"If the fortification of the capital can add to the security of the country I think it ought to be done. If by the erection of works such as I am recommending you can delay the progress of the enemy for three days, it may make the difference between the safety and the destruction of the capital."[643] An army of reserve was already in course of formation, and on the 28th June the secretary at war (Charles Yorke) wrote to the lord mayor expressing a hope that a contingent of 800 men might easily be furnished by "the first city in the world." The letter having been laid before the Common Council it was at once resolved to furnish the quota desired.[644] In addition to this army of reserve, which was to be 50,000 strong, the militia, to the number of 70,000, were embodied, whilst 300,000 volunteers were enrolled. In the city the employÉs in the Bank of England formed themselves into a regiment of volunteers, and the Guildhall became a drill-hall for the various military associations.[645] Besides ten regiments of volunteers and a cavalry corps, there were associations of River Fencibles and Harbour Marines. The Common Council voted two field pieces to the "Loyal London Cavalry" and colours to the other corps.[646]

By way of raising supplies Addington brought forward a plan for the renewal of the Income Tax, which had been abolished at the conclusion of the Peace. The plan involved a distinction between incomes derived from land and funded property and incomes derived from the more precarious sources of trade and commerce—a distinction previously advocated by the City—but Pitt offered so strong an opposition to the proposal, although beaten on a division, that Addington gave way.

A sharp look-out was kept in the Channel to prevent the embarkation of the forces gathered on Boulogne heights, and all French and Dutch ports were closely blockaded by Cornwallis, Nelson and other naval commanders, whose services in this direction were handsomely acknowledged by the City in March (1804).[647] Nelson alone, of all the officers, showed dissatisfaction, and found fault with the City, because, forsooth, he had been described as "blockading" Toulon. Blockading Toulon! he had been doing "quite the reverse," so he informed the lord mayor by letter, written on board the "Victory" the 1st August;—"Every opportunity had been offered the enemy to put to sea, for it is there that we hope to realize the hopes and expectations of our country, and I trust they will not be disappointed." Not only did he ungraciously decline the City's vote of thanks, but he found fault with the civic authorities for having omitted to pass similar votes of thanks to Rear-Admiral Sir Richard Bickerton and Rear-Admiral Campbell, an omission which the writer imputed to wilful negligence in making proper enquiries.[648] The letter was referred to a committee to consider and report thereon. As regards the first objection raised by Nelson, viz., his having been represented as "blockading" the port of Toulon, the committee failed to see in this representation, although perhaps not technically correct, any solid reason for his not accepting the vote of thanks, more especially as others who had been similarly employed in different parts of the world had gladly accepted this mark of the City's gratitude. The Common Council, however, preferred to ignore the objection altogether and to let the matter drop, whilst they tendered a handsome apology to Rear-Admirals Bickerton and Campbell for having unwittingly omitted their names in the vote of the Court of the 26th March.[649] This apology, coupled with an assurance that there did not exist a body of men in his majesty's dominions more sensible of the distinguished services of these two officers than the Corporation of London, was duly transmitted by the lord mayor to Nelson. That gallant admiral remained, however, still dissatisfied, and before the close of the year (27 Dec.) he again wrote from Toulon, complaining of other omissions on the part of the City, and recommending that for the future the municipal authorities should apply to the secretary of the Admiralty for the names of all officers in fleets intended to be thanked, and so avoid "such very unpleasant omissions." This savoured too much of dictation. The consequence was that instead of remedying the defect pointed out in the admiral's letter, the Common Council merely thanked the lord mayor for having communicated the letter to them.[650]

Meanwhile the state of affairs required a stronger man at the helm than Addington. There was only one man equal to the task. That man was Pitt. Between these two statesmen there was no comparison, except such as Canning wittily drew:—

For some time past the country had displayed impatience of Addington's weak ministry and a desire for Pitt's recall; but Addington was loth to acknowledge his own incompetence and stuck to office. The prime minister of to-day has happily hit off Addington's ministerial method in a single sentence. Addington's father had been a respectable and respected family physician to Pitt's family, and the son—writes Lord Rosebery in his excellent monograph on Pitt (p. 230)—"carried into politics the indescribable air of a village apothecary inspecting the tongue of the state." More than once indeed he went so far as to open negotiations with Pitt through a third party, but the terms offered were such as Pitt could not possibly entertain without loss of self respect. Now that England was embarked on a fresh war, the country became fairly aroused and the minister was forced to bow to public opinion and resign (10 May). Pitt undertook to form a ministry, but was at once confronted with difficulties from the king. It was Pitt's wish that the new ministry should be a large and comprehensive one, embracing both Fox and Grenville, but the king positively refused to admit Fox, although he offered no great opposition to Grenville. As Grenville refused to accept office without his friend, both were excluded, and Pitt had to form a government as best he could on a narrow Tory basis.[651]

Soon after the formation of the new ministry, an attempt was made in the Common Council (19 June) to pass a vote of thanks to Addington for his recent services, but an amendment was proposed to thank the late minister for having resigned office as soon as he discovered that he no longer enjoyed the confidence of the country. The amendment further expressed regret that the late "partial changes" in the government appeared so little calculated to promote the interests of the nation and to secure the confidence of Parliament and the nation at so momentous a crisis. Before the amendment, however, could be put to the vote, it was found that a quorum was not present, and so "no decision was made thereon."[652]

On the 18th May, Pitt resumed the reins of government, having submitted himself for re-election to his constituents at Cambridge. That same day the First Consul, Pitt's arch enemy, was solemnly proclaimed sovereign of the French under the title of the Emperor Napoleon. That same day, too, witnessed the presentation of colours which the Common Council had in October last (1803) voted to the London regiments. The presentation took place at Blackheath, the lord mayor being conveyed down the river in the City's state barge, accompanied by the commander-in-chief and a brilliant staff of officers, and the troops being conducted to Greenwich by the River Fencibles. One officer, viz., Colonel Kensington, commanding the third regiment of Loyal London Volunteers, declined to accept the colours, for what reason we are not told. The ceremony passed off without any accident or confusion, but a banquet which it was proposed to give the commander-in-chief and his staff after the review could not take place in consequence of the London Tavern being previously engaged, and time did not allow of another suitable place being sought for.[653]

It was quite clear that if the country was to be saved from invasion, the military forces of the kingdom would still have to be greatly strengthened. Before consenting to form a ministry, Pitt did not disguise from the king the serious character of the situation. "It is in the first place, evident"—he wrote to Lord Eldon for communication to the king—"that zealous and united as the country appears to be at this moment [2 May] in its efforts against the enemy, the present contest may probably be of very long duration, attended with great and heavy burdens, and likely to press severely on the resources and conveniences of all classes of persons." Filled with these sentiments, Pitt, as soon as he returned to office, prepared a measure for the better defence of the country and for substituting a more permanent military force for the existing militia. The Additional Force Bill, as this measure was called, was no sooner laid before the House than it met with the most strenuous opposition. The City, according to the provisions of the Bill, would have had to furnish 1,600 men for military service, but the Remembrancer, whose business it is to watch Bills in Parliament affecting the City's interests, applied to have the clause affecting the City struck out by an amendment in the House of Lords, "it having been uniformly the practice for the city of London to have separate Bills for such purposes." Two of the city members also made similar applications. They were told that the objection came too late to allow of any omission or addition being made to the Bill, but that if the Corporation were desirous of having a separate Bill on this occasion "they might prepare the same with such powers for raising the men or money required as were more consonant to their accustomed forms and practice."[654] In spite of the opposition of Addington, Sheridan, and Fox, the Bill eventually passed the Commons by a majority of forty-two, and was carried up to the Lords. There it was again strongly opposed and was only carried by a majority of thirty-four. The City took the advice offered and introduced a separate Bill on its own account, and this also passed.[655]

Nothing could exceed the energy of the prime minister in superintending personally the defences of the country, and although some of his measures (as for instance the erection of martello towers along the south coast and the cutting a canal from Hythe to Rye) could have done little to check the advance of the French army had a landing been once effected, the real value of such measures lay in the confidence and energy which they excited in the people. Nor were the citizens less energetic. The Artillery Company and the London militia, instead of marching out to the suburbs for practice took to discharging their field pieces in their own grounds in Finsbury, causing the houses in the vicinity to shake and windows to be broken by the concussion. The noise of their discharge frightened the horses of the frequenters of the City Road—the Rotten Row of the East end—and disturbed those who had sought ease and quiet, in what was in those days a respectable if not an aristocratic suburb of the city. In July (1804) the annoyance became so great that a formal complaint was made to the Common Council, who agreed that the practice complained of should not be continued.[656]

Whilst the City and the country were for the most part inspired with Pitt's enthusiasm, there were not wanting some who ridiculed the prime minister for intermeddling in military matters, and for the anxiety he displayed at the prospect of an invasion which they thought to be in the highest degree improbable. "Can he possibly be serious in expecting Bonaparte now!"—wrote Grenville to Lord Buckingham on the 25th August—although it was well known that Napoleon had himself gone recently to Boulogne to view the army that had long been encamped on its heights. He had even gone so far as to order a medal to be prepared, bearing the words FrappÉe a Londres, in commemoration of his expected conquest. Circumstances eventually led him to postpone his descent on the English coast, but the project was far from abandoned.

Strong as Pitt was in the country he was weak in parliament. Before the end of the year (1804) he sought at once to gratify the king and strengthen his own position in the House by becoming reconciled with Addington, who entered the ministry as President of the Council and was created Viscount Sidmouth. The coalition lasted, however, but a short time. On the 8th April (1805) Henry Dundas, now Lord Melville and first lord of the admiralty, was charged with peculation, and had to stand his trial in Westminster hall. The lord mayor claimed to have a certain number of tickets allowed him to witness the trial, on the ground that a former lord mayor had been allowed them to witness the trial of Warren Hastings. He experienced, however, some difficulty in getting them as he could produce no record of the mayor having established his claim at the former trial.[657] Although the trial resulted in Melville's acquittal, Pitt could not do otherwise than advise the removal of his old friend from the Privy Council. It was a bitter blow and one that he must have felt the more keenly when he found his old supporters, the citizens of London, animadverting in no measured terms upon his friend's conduct and congratulating the king on his having rid himself and his councils of so obnoxious a minister.[658] The unfortunate affair again caused an estrangement between Pitt and Sidmouth, which ended in the latter withdrawing from the ministry (7 July).

Although misfortune continued thus to follow Pitt in the House, his foreign policy promised well. Spain it is true had thrown in her lot with France. On the other hand, Pitt had succeeded in forming a strong coalition against the Emperor on the continent, and on the 21st October, Nelson succeeded in vanquishing the French and Spanish fleets off Cape Trafalgar, although at the cost of his own life. On the 13th November, the Common Council drew up an address to the king, congratulating him upon the recent victory, whilst expressing sincere sorrow at the loss of so brave a commander.[659] A fortnight later they resolved to bestow the Freedom of the City with swords of honour upon Collingwood and others who had distinguished themselves in this action.[660]

Nelson's funeral afforded an opportunity for a solemn water pageant such as has seldom been seen. On Wednesday, the 8th January (1806) his remains were borne up the Thames, by barge from Greenwich to Whitehall, and thence to the Admiralty. The mayor, aldermen and city officers drove down to Greenwich after breakfast, and were there received by Lord Hood. The City's barge had been sent on, and the barges of the Drapers' Company, the Fishmongers, the Goldsmiths, the Skinners, the Merchant Taylors, the Ironmongers, the Stationers and the Apothecaries were already there. The lord mayor's barge immediately followed the royal barges and the barge containing the lords commissioners of the Admiralty. As the procession made its way up the river, with a slow hanging stroke befitting the solemnity of the occasion, minute guns were fired. The body lay at the Admiralty that night, and the next day (9 Jan.) was brought to its last resting place in St. Paul's. The whole of the military arrangements for keeping the streets of the city were left in the hands of the lord mayor, and no question as to his authority was raised, such as had been raised in 1797. On the other hand, a controversy had arisen as to the position allotted to the lord mayor in the procession, after its entrance in the city; the mayor claiming to take precedence of all subjects of the crown within his own jurisdiction in the city and liberties, whether the king was present or not. The king was not to attend on this occasion; nevertheless the mayor claimed the same precedence as if his majesty were present, on the ground that in all commissions of gaol delivery he was named before the chancellor, the judges and all other subjects whatever. Time did not allow of the question being fully enquired into at the Heralds' College, and the difficulty had to be solved by a special royal warrant to Garter King-at-arms, authorising him to allot the same place to the lord mayor that he would have enjoyed had the king himself been there to receive the City's sword. When the procession entered the city, the mayor accordingly took up his position between the carriage of the Prince of Wales and the funeral car. At the moment the remains were lowered into the crypt volleys were fired by the troops, in Moorfields, by signal given from the gallery on the top of the dome of the cathedral.[661]

The City having resolved to erect a monument to the deceased admiral, the Hon. Mrs. Damer again offered her services. Her offer, however, was not accepted, the Common Council preferring to submit the matter to public competition. A number of designs were sent in, one of which was especially recommended by a committee of so-called experts (not being themselves artists). This was, however, eventually rejected on a ballot being taken, and a design accepted, which proved to be by James Smith, an artist who had studied under Flaxman, and who had assisted Mrs. Damer. His estimate of cost was the lowest of five selected by the committee of experts.[662]

Although the victory of Trafalgar had established England's supremacy at sea and had effectually put an end to Napoleon's project of invasion, the victory he subsequently gained (2 Dec.) over the allied forces on the field of Austerlitz, completely shattered the coalition, and made him all-powerful on the continent. The shock was too much for Pitt, whose health had long been failing. Last lord mayor's day, when news of Nelson's victory and death had recently arrived, he had attended the banquet at the Guildhall, but at the cost of much personal suffering. Once more he was received with acclamation, and his coach was drawn in triumph. It was for the last time. When the lord mayor proposed his health as "the Saviour of Europe," he replied in one of the shortest, and under the circumstances perhaps one of the most effective speeches ever delivered on the occasion by a prime minister:—"I return you many thanks," he said, addressing the mayor, "for the honour you have done me; but Europe is not to be saved by any single man. England has saved herself by her exertions and will, I trust, save Europe by her example."[663] With only these two sentences—the last words spoken by him in public—Pitt sat down. A month later (7 Dec.) he set out for Bath, and there he received the fatal news. From that day his health rapidly declined. He recovered sufficiently to be removed to a house he had hired at Putney, but on the 23rd January he died.

A month later (22 Feb.) the deceased statesman, whose praises Canning had sung as "The pilot that weathered the storm," was laid to rest in Westminster Abbey. The City expressed no wish, as at his father's death, to be present in their corporate capacity, but the lord mayor attended in state, and that there might not be wanting in after years (as in the case of Hastings's trial), a record of his attendance and of the precedence allotted him on this occasion, he caused the facts to be entered in the minutes of the Court of Aldermen.[664]

In the meantime (6 Feb.) a motion had been made in the Common Council to erect a monument in the Guildhall to the late minister. After long debate, the motion was carried, but only by a majority of six votes. A ward committee was thereupon appointed to carry the same into execution. On the 28th, an attempt was made to stop all further proceedings, but the court after further debate, decided otherwise, and unanimously resolved that the committee should submit such models and designs as they might think worthy, together with estimates of expense. On the 18th September, five models were submitted to the Common Council,[665] the estimates varying from £3,675 to £5,500. Eventually, the lowest estimate was selected. The artist who had sent in the model at this estimate, proved to be J.G. Bubb, of whom little is known, except that he carved the sculptures in front of the Custom House, and modelled the figures adorning the faÇade of the Opera House, in the Haymarket, recently pulled down. The monument occupied the artist for more than six years, and it was not set up in the Guildhall until 1813. The inscription, written by Canning, bears testimony to the affectionate regret with which the City of London cherished Pitt's memory.

Upon the formation of a new ministry with Grenville as prime minister, and Fox as foreign secretary, the Common Council presented an address to the king, offering their sincere thanks and congratulations "on the formation of an administration, combining men of the highest consideration and talents"—the administration was known as "the ministry of all the talents"; they hoped that by such an union of wisdom and energy in his majesty's councils, a policy of "vigour, vigilance, and economy" would be pursued, and they promised the king the City's support in every demand necessary for resisting the unreasonable pretensions of Napoleon and for effecting a permanent and honourable peace.[666]

Whilst Napoleon was bent on forming on the continent a western empire, England succeeded in securing the sea route to India by the re-capture of the Cape of Good Hope from the Dutch. The importance of this exploit by the British navy, under the command of Sir Home Popham, was misconceived by the City, and a vote of thanks to Popham moved in the Common Council was lost. The capture of Buenos Ayres, on the other hand, by the same officer, was welcomed by them with extravagant joy as opening a new source of commerce to British manufacturers, and the Common Council not only accorded Popham and the fleet a vote of thanks, but voted that officer a sword of honour of the value of 200 guineas.[667] Yet Buenos Ayres was shortly afterwards lost and never recovered, whereas the Cape still remains one of the most valuable possessions of the country.

The only military success of the Grenville ministry besides the conquest of the Cape of Good Hope, was gained in the south of Italy, where Sir John Stuart beat the French general Regnier at Maida. The victory was the more welcome, because it proved to the world that "the boasted prowess" of the French could not stand against well disciplined British soldiers when fairly put to the test. The Common Council, ever ready to recognise merit, voted Stuart the Freedom of the City and a sword.[668]

The Grenville ministry did not last long. It showed a singular inaptitude for war, but it fell on the question of Catholic emancipation, the same question that had caused Pitt to resign in 1801. In consideration of the king's increasing age and bad health, Fox had given his word immediately on assuming office, not to bring the question forward. Fox died in September, 1806, and early the following year Grenville, who had given no such pledge, notified his intention of bringing forward a Bill for throwing open all ranks of the army and navy to Catholics and Protestants alike. The king looked upon any assent that he might give to Catholic emancipation as nothing less than an infringement of his coronation oath, and he conscientiously and consistently opposed every measure tending in that direction. A certain section of the Common Council was also opposed to the Bill as subversive of the constitution, but a motion to move parliament against the Bill was rejected.[669] Not satisfied with the withdrawal of Grenville's Bill the king in his morbid sensibility, insisted upon a promise that he would never bring forward a similar measure again—a promise that no constitutional minister could give. Thereupon he was summarily dismissed (March, 1807), and the Duke of Portland became nominally prime minister, although the leadership was virtually assumed by Spencer Perceval.

Once more the "successors of the Roundheads" congratulated the king upon his having vindicated "the glorious independence of the crown." Owing to the state of the king's health, and more particularly his defective eyesight, the City waived its right to present the address on the throne; and only a deputation of the Common Council was present.[670] A dissolution took place soon afterwards, when it was found that not only the City but the country supported the king.

Having devastated the continent to such an extent that both London and the kingdom were called upon to contribute towards the alleviation of the prevalent distress,[671] the Emperor had recently aimed a direct blow at England by issuing the famous Berlin Decree (21 Nov., 1806), forbidding all intercourse with this country, and confiscating all English merchandise found on the continent. This was the commencement of the "continental system" which ultimately proved more injurious to Napoleon himself than to England.

The system was accepted everywhere except in Portugal, and Napoleon, who had long fixed his eyes on the Peninsula, seized the opportunity afforded by Portugal refusing to close its ports to England to wage war not only upon that country but upon Spain. The city of London became more than ever alive to the danger which threatened this country from the "vast gigantic confederacy" established mainly for the destruction of England, and the citizens set an example, as the king himself graciously acknowledged (30 March, 1808), "of union and public spirit" at this important crisis.[672] When Napoleon succeeded by a gross piece of chicanery in setting his own brother Joseph on the throne of Spain (15 June), the high-spirited Spaniards, rebelled, and sent envoys to England asking for assistance. They were everywhere received with enthusiasm, and the City offered them its customary hospitality.[673]

Their appeal was not in vain. Money and arms were promised, to the great delight of the citizens, who formally offered their thanks to the king for granting his protection and support to a "high-minded and gallant nation in defence of their dearest rights and privileges." They declared that the king's solemn recognition of the Spanish nation as a friend and ally against "the common enemy of all established governments"—as they styled Napoleon—had excited in their breasts the most lively and grateful sensations, and they assured him that they would spare no sacrifice to assist in preventing "twelve millions of fellow freemen from being accursed with the most galling and profligate despotism recorded in the history of the world."[674]

A force was despatched to Portugal under the command of Sir Arthur Wellesley; but no sooner had he achieved some success than he found himself superseded by Sir Harry Burrard, who in turn had to give place to Sir Hugh Dalrymple. The consequence was, that the good accomplished by one commander was quickly undone by another, and in August a Convention—known as the Convention of Cintra—was signed, and the French army was allowed to return home scot free. This raised a storm of indignation among the citizens, and the king to pacify them promised an enquiry. He little liked, however, the City's interference in the matter, and said so:—"I should have hoped"—he told the Common Council who waited upon him—"that recent occurrences would have convinced you, that I am at all times ready to institute enquiries on occasions in which the character of the country or the honor of my arms is concerned; and that the interposition of the city of London could not be necessary for inducing me to direct due enquiry to be made into a transaction which has disappointed the hopes and expectations of the nation."[675] Wellesley and his two official superiors were thereupon ordered home to give an account of their conduct, the command of the army in Portugal being left in the hands of Sir John Moore, who soon afterwards lost his life at Corunna.

The Convention of Cintra and the retreat of Sir John Moore, successful as that retreat had been, although costing him his own life, discouraged the government which now was called upon to meet an attack from another quarter. Early in the spring of 1809, the Duke of York, commander-in-chief, was charged by a militia colonel named Wardle, member for Okehampton, with having allowed his mistress, Mrs. Clarke, to dispose of commissions, and having himself participated in the proceeds of this nefarious traffic. The scandal was aggravated by a public investigation before the entire House of Commons, and although the duke was eventually acquitted of personal corruption, he felt compelled to resign his post. His acquittal disgusted the Common Council, who desired to place on record their belief that it was greatly due to that "preponderating influence" of which they had formerly complained. On the other hand they voted Wardle the Freedom of the City in a gold box (6 April).[676] In the course of a few months Wardle was himself sued by a tradesman for the price of goods with which he had furnished a house for Mrs. Clarke. This put a new aspect on the charges Wardle had brought and greatly diminished the feeling against the duke, who was soon afterwards restored to office. The City, however, still upheld Wardle, and not only refused to rescind their vote of the 6th April, but placed on record an elaborate statement showing how by his means, and in the face of unexampled threats and difficulties, a system of "scandalous abuse and corruption, not only in the army, but in the various departments of the State" had been brought to light. This statement they ordered to be published in the morning and evening papers.[677]

The ministry had scarcely recovered from the effects of the scandal before it received a fatal shock from the disastrous failure of the Walcheren expedition, owing chiefly to senseless disputes between the naval and military commanders. Canning and Castlereagh—the foreign minister and the war minister—endeavoured to throw the blame on each other's shoulders. They both resigned office and then fought a duel. Their resignation was followed by that of the Duke of Portland, whose failing health had from the first rendered him unfit for his position, and who shortly afterwards died. His place was taken by Spencer Perceval.

The City was greatly depressed at the result of the expedition, and there was some talk of the Corporation taking no part in the celebration of the king's jubilee, his majesty being about to enter upon the 50th year of his reign on the 25th October of this year. To some members of the Common Council it seemed out of place to set apart a day for public rejoicing at a time when the country was involved in so much disgrace.[678] The majority, however, thought otherwise, and the City joined with the rest of his majesty's subjects in offering congratulations. The citizens could forgive much, if only trade were good, and as to this they were in a position to assure the king that notwithstanding the unexampled struggles through which the country had passed since the day of his accession, its commerce was "flourishing to an extent unknown in any former war."[679] A thanksgiving service was held in St. Paul's, which the municipal authorities attended in state. The City contributed £1,000 for the relief of poor debtors, whilst twice that amount was forwarded by the king for the same purpose. Resolutions were passed to illuminate the Guildhall and to go to the expense of a City banquet, but they were afterwards rescinded.[680]

The jubilee over, the City drew up and agreed to an address to the king complaining that no proper enquiry had been made into the circumstances under which the Convention of Cintra had been signed, as his majesty had promised, and urging another enquiry into the causes of the recent Walcheren disaster. The address was agreed to at a special Court of Common Council held on the 5th December. On the 13th, however, this address was set aside, and another and more temperate address substituted for it.[681]

Upon the latter address being presented to the king, a short, dry answer was returned, such as he was accustomed to give when displeased. He had not judged it necessary, he told the citizens, to direct any military enquiry into the conduct of the commanders of the expedition at sea and on shore; but it rested with parliament to ask for such information or to take such measures as they thought best for the public good.[682]

Before the presentation of the City's address a special meeting of the livery took place (14 Dec.), when the original address agreed to by the Common Council and afterwards discarded was adopted by the livery as their own, and ordered to be presented to the king at the next public levÉe. Then followed another of those unseemly wrangles we have had so often to record. When the sheriffs proceeded to carry out the wishes of the livery they found that for some years past no public levÉe had been held owing to the king's failing eyesight, and when asked to do as all others did—with the exception of the corporation of London and the two Universities—and to leave the address with the principal secretary of state, who would in due course lay it before the king, they refused.

The matter being reported to the livery (9 Jan., 1810), they proceeded forthwith to draw up resolutions condemning the king's advisers, and these the sheriffs were ordered to deliver "into his majesty's hands." The secretary of state very naturally objected to trouble the king any further in the matter, as there was, in reality, no difference between presenting an address and presenting resolutions. At the same time, he signified his willingness to lay a copy of the resolutions before the king in the manner adopted since the cessation of public levÉes. This offer was refused. An attempt was then made to have the document presented at a private levÉe, and the sheriffs wrote a joint letter to the secretary of state informing him of their intention of attending for the purpose at the next private levÉe, unless it should be his majesty's pleasure to receive them at some other time and place. To this the secretary replied that no one was admitted to private levÉes without the king's permission; that he had laid their letter before the king and that his majesty saw no reason for drawing a distinction between the resolutions and the address; that had the sheriffs been deputed by the body corporate of London, his majesty would have received them differently, but he could not receive them at the levÉe or elsewhere for the purpose of presenting proceedings not adopted at any meeting of the corporation as such, without allowing others the same privilege, and thereby exposing himself to that personal inconvenience which the discontinuance of public levÉes was intended to prevent. Thus baffled, the livery had to content themselves with entering a formal protest against what they still believed to be a "flagrant violation of city rights."[683]

A few weeks later (23 Feb.) when a Bill was before the House for granting an annuity to Wellesley (recently created Viscount Wellington for his victory at Talavera) the Common Council took the matter up and complained to Parliament of the recent failure of the livery to get their address received by the king owing to the misconduct of his majesty's ministers, who had "placed a barrier between the king and the people," and whose conduct was now aggravated by the proposal respecting Wellington, made "in defiance of public opinion." Whilst petitioning against the Bill the City assured the House that they did so from no motives of economy, but from a sense that, notwithstanding Wellington's indisputable valour, his military conduct was not deserving national remuneration. What were the facts? That in the short period of his service in Europe, not amounting to two years, they had seen his gallant efforts in Portugal lead only to the "disgraceful and scandalous" Convention of Cintra; while in Spain, notwithstanding his defeat of the French at Talavera, he had been compelled to retreat and leave his sick and wounded to the care of the enemy. No enquiry had been made into either of these campaigns, although it was but due to the nation that a most rigid investigation as to why so much valour should have been uselessly and unprofitably displayed should first take place before the nation's pecuniary resources should be thus applied. In India Wellington had received ample remuneration for his services, and at home he had held valuable appointments. As for making provision for his family, none had been made for the family of Sir John Moore, who had so nobly died.[684] This attitude of the City towards the Bill becomes the more intelligible when we consider that Wellington at that time had many enemies, both in and out of Parliament, and that his military genius had not yet awakened recognition. When, a year later, it was found that, owing to his skill, his patient self-reliance (for he received but little encouragement from the government at home) and his foresight, not a single French soldier remained in Portugal, the City, like the rest of the nation, were ready to acknowledge his "consummate ability, fortitude and perseverance," and presented him with the Freedom and a sword of honour, despatching at the same time the sum of £1,000 for the relief of poor Portuguese.[685]

In the spring of this year (1810) the question of parliamentary reform was (after an interval of twenty-five years) again brought into prominence by the committal of Sir Francis Burdett to the Tower by order of the House of Commons. The House had recently committed to Newgate a man named John Gale Jones for having published an attack on its proceedings, and Sir Francis Burdett had questioned its right to commit any man to prison. The consequence was that on the 6th April a warrant was issued for the committal of Burdett himself to the Tower. Burdett resisted the warrant as illegal, and had to be conveyed to the Tower by an armed force (9 April). The ministry anticipated a riot, and made application to the lord mayor for permission to quarter troops in the government storehouses situate on the banks of the river. The mayor, in reply, assured the secretary of state, through whom the application had been made, that the city was perfectly quiet, but he would consult his brother aldermen on the matter. The next day—the day that Burdett was to be conveyed to the Tower—he wrote again to the secretary, assuring him that the city continued quiet, but that if necessity arose for military assistance to protect the government stores he (the mayor) would allow the premises to be occupied by troops, but only on the express condition that they acted under his own directions or the directions of one of the city marshals.[686]

Unfortunately the day did not pass off without bloodshed. Notwithstanding the care taken to conduct their prisoner by a circuitous route instead of by the direct way through Eastcheap to the Tower, the troops were severely handled by the mob both going and returning. For a long time the soldiers exhibited the greatest patience, but at length they were forced in sheer self-defence to fire, and a man named Thomas Ebrall was killed and others wounded. The Court of Aldermen were asked to offer a reward of £200 for the discovery of the man who had shot Ebrall, on whose death a jury had brought in a verdict of wilful murder against a guardsman, name unknown, but the Court declined. They instituted an enquiry, however, into the whole of the proceedings of the day, and after taking numerous depositions and giving the matter their best attention they came to the conclusion that the firing by the soldiers was justified.[687]

The livery in the meanwhile had insisted upon a special Common Hall being summoned for the purpose of taking into consideration "the alarming assumption of privilege by the honourable the House of Commons, of arresting and imprisoning during pleasure the people of England, for offences cognisable in the usual courts of law," and on the 4th May, they passed a cordial vote of thanks to Burdett for having resisted the Speaker's warrant, and for having upheld the right of freedom of speech. They also thanked the lord mayor for his "constitutional endeavours to preserve the peace of the city without the aid of the military." Furthermore, they resolved that the only means left to save the constitution and the country was parliamentary reform, which must be both speedy and radical, and they called upon the people of the United Kingdom to join them in endeavouring to bring this reform about. A petition to the House was then read and adopted, the language of which was so strong that even the petitioners themselves felt constrained to offer some kind of apology, and to declare that by it they intended no disrespect to the House. After commenting upon what they deemed an illegal and totally unjustifiable act of the House, in committing Jones and Burdett to prison without legal process, they proceeded to remind the Commons that so far from representing the people, they were known to have been sent to Parliament "by the absolute nomination or powerful influence of about 150 peers and others;" that they had refused to examine the charge brought against Lord Castlereagh and Spencer Perceval, two ministers of the Crown, of trafficking in seats; that when, on a former occasion, it was averred before the House "that seats for legislation in the House of Commons were as notoriously rented and bought as the standings for cattle at a fair," the House had treated the assertion with affected indignation, and ministers had threatened to punish the petitioners for presenting a scandalous and libellous petition. The petitioners, nevertheless, had lived "to see a House of Commons avow the traffick and screen those accused of this breach of law and right, because it had been equally committed by all parties, and was a practice as notorious as the sun at noon-day." Where, they asked, was the justice of the House? Where its dignity? Jones was confined to prison for an alleged offence which if committed against any subject of the realm, or even the king himself, would have been made the subject of legal investigation; Lord Castlereagh continued to be a principal minister of the Crown, and was at that very time a free member of Parliament; Sir Francis Burdett had been dragged from the bosom of his family and committed to the Tower, for exercising the right of constitutional discussion, common and undeniable to all, whilst Spencer Perceval continued a member of the House, taking a lead in its deliberations, the first minister of the Crown, and the chief adviser of the royal council. There was no need, the petitioners said, to recapitulate to the House the numerous instances of neglect to punish public delinquents, to economise the public money, to obtain redress for the lavish profusion of blood and money in the late Walcheren expedition. These and similar proceedings required no comment. Under these circumstances the petitioners called upon the House to expunge from its Journal all its orders respecting Jones and Sir Francis Burdett, and in conjunction with the latter to adopt such measures as would effect an immediate and radical parliamentary reform.[688]

Such strong language addressed to the Parliament of the United Kingdom was more than some of the livery then present in Common Hall could approve of, and they adjourned to the London Tavern where they drew up a formal protest against what they conceived to be nothing less than an attempt "to degrade the legislature; to alienate the affections of the people from the Government, to produce contempt and distrust of the House of Commons, to introduce anarchy, and to subvert the constitution." The petition nevertheless was presented to the House, but after considerable debate, and after a motion that it should be allowed to lie on the table had been lost by a large majority, it was dismissed.[689]

The rejection of their petition occasioned the holding of another Common Hall for the purpose of maintaining the rights of the livery constitutionally assembled. As soon as the Hall met (21 May), the livery proceeded to pass a number of resolutions. They declared that the recent protest had been signed by "contractors, commissioners, and collectors of taxes, placemen, and place-hunters," and that its object was "the excitement of civil dissension, the increase of public abuses, and the further and fuller participation in the wages of corruption," by many of those who had signed it; that the right of petitioning, which had been denied to the subject in 1680, and allowed and confirmed in 1688 by the Bill of Rights, had again been invaded, and a new race of Abhorrers had sprung up, and that it behoved every real friend of the country "to resist their mischievous designs by recurring to the genuine principles of the constitution, and by using every legal means for obtaining a full, fair and free representation of the people in Parliament." They resolved, notwithstanding the rejection of their last petition, to give the House of Commons every opportunity of hearing and redressing the grievances of the people, and sanctioned the presentation of another humble address, petition and remonstrance. This new petition, which differed but slightly from the last, was presented to the House on the 25th, and instead of being rejected, was ordered to lie on the table.[690]

Just as lord mayor's day was approaching the king suffered a sudden relapse, owing in a great measure to the loss of his favourite daughter, and became hopelessly insane. The question thereupon arose whether the new lord mayor could, under the circumstances, be sworn before the barons of the exchequer. Counsel were of opinion that this was the proper course to pursue and the incoming mayor was so sworn.[691] There was no pageant owing to the death of the princess.[692]

A few days prior to the king's seizure the City resolved to place his statue in their council chamber, in token of their sense of his "endearing and amiable qualities."[693] The work was entrusted to Chantrey who had already executed a bust of the younger Pitt for the Trinity House Brethren.[694] The artist undertook to complete the statue in three years, but it was not until 1815 that it was ready to be set up. It originally bore an inscription written by Samuel Birch, who was mayor at the time, but upon the removal of the statue to the new council chamber, in 1884, the pedestal bearing the inscription was left behind.

The necessity of a regency soon became manifest, and in January, 1811, a Bill was introduced for the purpose of appointing the Prince of Wales. When Pitt introduced a similar Bill in 1788 he had displayed no little courage in upholding the authority of parliament and imposing certain restrictions and limitations upon the regency of the prince whose character was none of the best, and the City had acknowledged the wisdom of his policy and passed him a vote of thanks. At that time it was a matter of uncertainty whether the king might not recover, as recover he did, and there was danger of prematurely paying court to the rising sun. More than twenty years had since passed away. The king was now an old man and the Prince of Wales must, in the ordinary course of things, succeed to the throne before long. Parliament still wished to impose restrictions upon the regency, but in a more modified form than in the former Bill. The prince, however, was adverse to any restrictions and the City sided with the prince against parliament.[695] In spite of their protest the Bill, with its limitations, was passed (5 Feb., 1811) and the prince submitted to take the oaths. A few days later the City offered him an address of condolence and congratulation, and at the same time appealed to him for redress of grievances and more especially for parliamentary reform.[696]

In May the Common Council offered him the Freedom of the City, but this he declined on the strange plea that its acceptation would be incompatible with his station as Regent. He made, however, a gracious reply to the deputation which waited upon him to learn his pleasure (he declined to receive more than the lord mayor, the sheriff, the recorder, and the remembrancer, as being contrary to precedent), and assured them that it was his earnest desire at all times to promote the interest and welfare of the ancient corporation.[697]

The regency being thus settled the "friends of parliamentary reform" appointed a committee (May, 1811) to organise a meeting in London. The meeting was to take place on Whit Monday (3 June) and was to be attended by delegates from all parts of the kingdom. The Common Council were disposed to accede to a request for the use of the Guildhall for the purpose of the meeting, but upon representation being made to them by the Court of Aldermen, and by some of the livery, that such a course would be without precedent as well as dangerous to the peace of the city, the permission was withdrawn.[698]

As time wore on and the livery who had confessedly looked upon the regency as the "dawn of a new era" found their hopes disappointed, no change being made in the ministry and no reforms carried out, they resolved to address themselves to the Regent. They accordingly drew up a petition after their kind, and appointed a deputation of twenty-one liverymen to attend its presentation (26 March, 1812). Not a word was said about the petition being presented to the prince on the throne. When the sheriffs attended at Carlton House on Wednesday, the 1st April, to learn when the Regent would be pleased to receive it, they were told that he would receive it at the levÉe on the following Thursday week (9th) in "the usual way." When asked if he would receive the deputation appointed by the livery, the prince demurred. There were "certain forms attending that," but he would communicate with the secretary of state who would give them an answer. The next day (2 April), secretary Ryder informed the sheriffs by letter, that no persons beyond "the number allowed by law," to present petitions to his majesty, would be admitted to the levÉe on the 9th, except the lord mayor, aldermen, sheriffs, and city officers. The sheriffs, on the receipt of this letter again came to the charge and represented to the secretary of state—apparently for the first time, and on their own responsibility—that the livery had expected that the Regent would have received their address on the throne. What, moreover, did the Regent mean when he said that he would receive it in "the usual way"? To this query, the secretary replied that by the words "in the usual way," the prince meant "the way in which the petitions of persons in general were received, and not in which the addresses or petitions of the livery of London had been received in some instances previous to the year 1775." He also added that the address and petition would not be read at the levÉe nor would any answer be given, and, further, that only a deputation of the livery, not exceeding ten persons, might attend. On being informed of all this the livery were furious, but had to content themselves as before, with passing a number of resolutions against the advisers of the crown, etc., etc., and these the sheriffs were ordered to deliver into the prince's own hands.[699]

Ten days later (17 April), the Common Council drew up an address to the prince, which proved to be such a formidable indictment of the government that it was characterised by his highness (who presumably received it on the throne) as one that involved "the total change in the domestic government and foreign policy of the country." This address did not appear in the London Gazette, as it ought to have done according to custom, and upon enquiry as to the reason for this omission, answer was made that "the London Gazette was the king's paper," and nothing appeared therein without the order of government; that no such order had been received in this case; that nevertheless, as it had been found to be usual to insert addresses of the Corporation presented to the king with the answer thereto, the secretary of state would give directions for inserting the last address and answer "on account of the usage," and not as a matter of right.[700]

Dissatisfied as the citizens were with the ministry, they nevertheless viewed with horror the dastardly assassination of Spencer Perceval in the lobby of the House of Commons (11 May), and both the Court of Aldermen and the Common Council presented addresses on the subject to the Prince Regent.[701] As soon as news of the outrage reached the lord mayor, he dispatched messengers to the House for confirmation of the report, and at the same time sent his chaplain to the secretaries of state for further particulars. The city marshals were immediately ordered to take steps for calling out the watch and ward, and to report every half-hour to the Mansion House. All that night a double patrol was kept, and half-hourly reports sent in until daylight. At eight o'clock the following morning, the East Regiment of London militia mustered at head-quarters in case of an outbreak,[702] but it soon became known that the outrage was the work of a single individual—one Bellingham, a Liverpool broker, with some real or fancied grievance—and not of a political conspiracy as was at first believed. The assassin was convicted and hanged within a week. All the ministers resigned, and an attempt was made to construct a Whig cabinet, but it failed and Lord Liverpool became premier.

In June, Napoleon entered Russia, and Wellington prepared to carry out offensive operations in Spain. In the following month (22 July) the latter defeated the French general, Marmont, at Salamanca, and afterwards entered Madrid in triumph. For his victory at Salamanca, the Common Council added a gold box to the Freedom of the City already accorded to him but not yet conferred;[703] whilst later on they voted a sum of £2,000 in aid of the sufferers from Napoleon's Russian invasion.[704]

The year 1813 found England at war, not only with France but with America. For some time past the United States had felt aggrieved at certain Orders in Council which had been issued by way of retaliation for the famous Berlin decree; and in contravention of these orders they had insisted on the doctrine that a neutral flag made free goods. The orders had been revoked in favour of America in June, 1812, but the concession came too late, and war had been declared. An attempt to draw off Canada from her allegiance failed, but at sea the Americans succeeded in capturing some of our frigates. At length, a duel was, by arrangement, fought outside Boston harbour, between the English vessel "Shannon," Captain Broke in command, and the American frigate "Chesapeake." The vessels were well matched, but the action which took place on the 1st June (1813), lasted little more than a quarter of an hour. It was reported at the time that an explosion took place on the "Chesapeake," and that it was owing to this rather than to any superiority in courage or tactics on the part of the crew of the English vessel that the American was made a prize.[705] But, however, this may have been, the honour of the day rested with Captain Broke, who was presented with the Freedom of the City and a sword of the value of 100 guineas.[706] The unhappy war was not brought to a close until December (1814).

In the meantime, Napoleon had met with a series of unprecedented reverses, and been forced to abdicate; Louis XVIII had succeeded to his murdered brother's throne, and peace between England and France had been signed at Paris (May, 1814). The City presented a long congratulatory address to the Prince Regent, on the fall of Napoleon and the accession of Louis to the throne.[707] Swords of honour were showered on foreign officers,[708] whilst our royal allies, the czar of Russia and the king of Prussia, as well as the new French king were presented with congratulatory addresses, and with the Prince Regent magnificently entertained by the citizens at the Guildhall (18 June).[709] Two days later the peace was proclaimed in the city with the same formalities as those used in the proclamation of peace with France and Spain, in 1783,[710] and on Thursday, the 7th July, a solemn thanksgiving service was held in St. Paul's, and was attended by the Regent.[711]

The entertainment at the Guildhall was followed at a short interval (9 July) by another given to the Duke of Wellington, when opportunity was taken of presenting him with the Freedom of the City, which he had hitherto been unable to "take up," as also with the sword of honour and gold box already voted to him. The second entertainment was scarcely less brilliant than the former, the general arrangements and decorations being the same on both occasions.[712]

Before the terms of peace were actually settled, the House of Commons embraced the opportunity of addressing the Regent upon the advisability of provision being made against the revival of the slave trade in those parts which were about to be ceded to France.[713] Ever since 1792 Bills had from time to time been introduced, with the view of putting down or at least suspending the nefarious traffic, but with little or no success, until in 1807 an Act was passed prohibiting the slave trade, under a penalty of heavy fines. As this Act was not sufficiently deterrent, another Act had been passed in 1811, making slave trading a felony, and so the trade had, after a long struggle, been finally abolished throughout the British dominion. Since 1792 the civic fathers do not appear to have taken any active part in the matter; but when it became known that the peace had been concluded, not only without any guarantee against the revival of the slave trade in parts where it had been abolished by England, and which were now to be ceded to France, but with express stipulations that the traffic should and might be exercised in those parts for a certain number of years, the City again took the matter up. A strong petition was drawn up by the Common Council (4 July), and submitted to both Houses of Parliament. They expressed the deepest regret that by such stipulations "all the labours and exertions of the wise and virtuous in this country, and all the enactments of the legislature," for the abolition of the slave trade had been rendered useless and unavailing. After such a formal recognition in the treaty of the right of France to carry on the abominable traffic, it would be preposterous for the British government to ask the assistance of other powers to put it down. The petitioners, therefore, humbly prayed both Houses to take speedy steps to impress upon his majesty's government the necessity of having the obnoxious clauses rescinded.[714] A week later (11 July) the prince, who, when originally applied to on the matter by the House of Commons, had returned what was then considered a favourable answer, now assured Parliament that he would endeavour to carry out its wishes.[715]

Early in the following year, whilst a congress was sitting at Vienna to regulate the affairs of Europe, news was brought that Napoleon had made his escape from Elba. Louis XVIII, the restored Bourbon king, who had already become unpopular, fled to Lille, and Napoleon became once more emperor of the French. His reign was, however, cut short on the field of Waterloo (18 June). The allies entered Paris in triumph (7 July), Napoleon took refuge on board the "Bellerophon," a British man-of-war, and claimed the hospitality of the Prince Regent. It was, however, only too clear that the peace of Europe would be constantly menaced were he to be allowed his liberty. He was, therefore, removed to St. Helena, and kept under guard. Louis XVIII was again restored, and negotiations were resumed, which resulted in a second treaty of Paris (20 Nov.). Once more the City offered congratulations to the Regent,[716] and as the swords of honour, voted last year to Blucher and other distinguished foreign officers, had not yet been presented, the lord mayor (Samuel Birch) proposed going to Paris himself, with a small deputation of the Common Council, and making the presentation—as he said—"in the face of the world." Although he had received assurances that every possible respect would be shown him, he eventually abandoned the idea, and contented himself with despatching the swords to the Duke of Wellington for delivery to their respective owners.[717]