Upon Beckford's decease Trecothick was elected mayor for the remainder of the year. It was no easy matter for the successor of one of the wealthiest and most hospitable of mayors to avoid invidious comparison, and at the close of his short term of office Trecothick was satirised by Wilkes for not maintaining the City's reputation for hospitality.[269] Trecothick was also out of favour with Wilkes for having officially backed press warrants, the legality of which was much disputed at the time. The mayor, however, justified his conduct in this respect to the livery when they met at Michaelmas, and his speech was very favourably received.[270] Wilkes on the other hand was so strenuously opposed to press warrants that he went so far as to release a man who had been pressed for the navy, although he had been taken by virtue of a warrant from the Lords of the Admiralty, backed by Trecothick.[271]

When Michaelmas arrived, the livery refused to re-elect Trecothick—as indeed Wilkes had foretold. Bankes was again passed over, and Brass Crosby chosen mayor for the ensuing year. In character he was scarcely less spirited and patriotic than Beckford, and he was made to suffer in consequence. Very early in his mayoralty (21 Nov.) it fell to his lot to carry up another address and remonstrance to the king for the dissolution of parliament, and to listen to a curt refusal.[272]

In consequence of Wilkes's opposition to pressing for the king's service, a system then constantly practised owing to the necessities of the time, the new mayor, one of his most steady adherents, consulted Lord Chatham on the legality of press warrants. Chatham advised him to take the opinion of counsel on the matter, and this he accordingly did, with the result that whilst he was advised that press warrants, however objectionable, were legal, the lord mayor could not legally be compelled to sign them. At the same time counsel left it to the mayor's consideration "whether for the peace of the city, and preservation of the subject, he would not conform to the practice of most of his predecessors on such occasions." This decision being deemed unsatisfactory, the City preferred to bestow premiums on voluntary recruits, and the same course was taken by other towns.[273]

It is, however, for the conspicuous part he took in the struggle for the liberty of the press that Brass Crosby is best remembered. Great jealousy had always existed in parliament as to reports of debates held there, and the Commons had comparatively of recent date (28 Feb., 1729) passed a resolution to the effect that it was an indignity, and a breach of privilege, for anyone "to give in written or printed newspapers" any account of the proceedings of the house.[274] Notwithstanding this resolution, reports of debates continued to appear in the public press, but always with an affectation of secrecy.

A scheme was now set on foot by Wilkes for embroiling the House of Commons with the City. At his instigation certain printers in the city commenced to publish the debates without any attempt at disguise, printing the name of each speaker in full. Such a proceeding had always been deemed a distinct breach of privilege. Some members of the House speedily took offence, and the printers were ordered to attend. As they refused to obey the summons, they were ordered into custody. This was precisely what Wilkes had aimed at. On the 15th March, a printer named John Wheble was apprehended by virtue of a proclamation, and was carried before Wilkes, the sitting alderman, who immediately discharged him, after binding him over to prosecute the man who had taken him, for illegal arrest. The same evening a messenger of the House of Commons attempted to arrest Miller, the printer of the Evening Post, under warrant of the Speaker; but the messenger himself was taken into custody on a charge of assaulting a freeman of the city, and carried before the lord mayor and aldermen Wilkes and Oliver. These magistrates declared the warrant to be illegal, not having been backed by a magistrate of the city, and released Miller. They at the same time bound over the messenger of the House of Commons to appear to answer a charge of assaulting a citizen of London.[275]

The king was furious at the authority of parliament being thus openly defied by the civic magistrates, and wrote to Lord North (17 March) to say that unless Crosby and Oliver were not committed forthwith to the Tower by the House of Commons its authority would be annihilated;—"You know very well I was averse to meddling with the printers, but now there is no retracting, the honour of the Commons must be supported."[276]

The House was no less indignant at being flouted by the City, than the king, and not only called upon Crosby and Oliver, who were members,[277] to answer for their conduct from their places, but sent for the clerk of the Justice Room at the Mansion House and ordered him in their presence to expunge the entry of the recognizance by which their messenger had been bound over to appear at the next Quarter Sessions to answer for his assault on Miller.[278]

In the meantime Crosby, who was suffering from a severe attack of gout, had attended in his place (19 March). Early in the morning handbills were distributed in the city informing the inhabitants that it was the intention of the mayor to attend Parliament that afternoon—"even though he should be obliged to be carried in a litter"—to uphold their rights and privileges, and calling upon them to escort him home on his return from Westminster. Here is a description of what took place taken from a contemporary newspaper;[279] "At two o'clock in the afternoon the right hon. the lord mayor set out from the Mansion House in a coach to attend the House of Commons, in pursuance of a summons, to answer for his conduct on Friday last. His lordship appeared very feeble and infirm, but in good spirits. Mr. Alderman Oliver and his lordship's chaplain, Mr. Evans, were in the same coach. A prodigious crowd of the better sort were at the Mansion House and in the streets near it, who testified their approbation by repeated huzzas, which were continued quite from the Mansion House to the House of Commons. On his arrival there one universal shout was heard for near three minutes; and the people during the whole passage to the House called out to the lord mayor as the people's friend, the guardian of the city's rights and the nation's liberties." Walpole minimises the display, and tells his friend that although thousands of handbills were dispersed to invite the mob to escort the mayor, not a hundred attended.[280] Having taken his seat in the House Crosby justified his conduct by the oath that he had taken on entering upon his mayoralty to preserve the liberties of the citizens, and desired to be heard by counsel.[281] Before his examination had proceeded far he was taken so seriously ill that he had to ask leave to go home. This was accorded, and "about five o'clock his lordship returned home, attended by a great number of people; and the populace took the horses out of the carriage at St. Paul's, and drew the coach to the Mansion House." The enquiry stood adjourned until Friday (22 March). In the meantime, leave having been given to him to appear by counsel, albeit with certain reservations, a committee was appointed to employ such counsel on his behalf as they should think fit, with power to draw on the Chamber to the extent of £500.[282] When Friday came the Speaker informed the House that he had received a letter from the lord mayor to the effect that he (Crosby) was so ill that he could not leave home, but that he would attend in his place as soon as his health permitted. Another adjournment was therefore made until the following Monday (25 March), and Oliver's defence was appointed for the same day.[283]

By Monday the lord mayor had sufficiently recovered to attend the House. At two o'clock in the afternoon he again set out in his coach accompanied, as before, by Oliver. Crowds again escorted them to Westminster, and the approaches to the House were so densely thronged that the Speaker gave orders to have them cleared. Even Walpole acknowledges this.[284] After the orders of the day for their attendance had been read Crosby explained how it was that no counsel appeared on his behalf. In the first place the restrictions that the House had placed upon the appearance of counsel—viz., that they should only be heard upon such points as did not controvert the privileges of the House—was such as to prevent counsel speaking on many points material to his defence; and secondly the counsel whom he could depend upon, and whom he wished to employ, were on circuit. He therefore made his own defence. It was now ten o'clock at night, and the exertion he had undergone had rendered him so weak that he again had to ask leave to withdraw, promising to abide by the judgment of the House. On his return to the city he met with another ovation, his coach being drawn by the people all the way to the Mansion House.[285]

After Crosby's withdrawal the debate was continued. It was moved that the lord mayor's discharging of Miller out of custody, and his having held the messenger of the House to bail, was a breach of privilege. To this was moved the previous question, but after long debate it was rejected and the original motion passed, order being given for the lord mayor to attend on the following Wednesday, if his health permitted.[286]

Notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, the House called upon Oliver. The alderman, however, did not detain them long. He declined to call witnesses or to say anything in his defence, beyond asserting that he had acted according to his duty, oath, and conscience. Again there was a long debate lasting until three o'clock in the morning, when the House resolved to send him to the Tower. The division was a small one, many members having already gone home in disgust. Oliver was allowed to go to his house in Fenchurch Street for a few hours before being removed to the Tower by the sergeant-at-arms.[287]

During the debate, Alderman Townshend appeared in the House looking very pale, having risen from a sickbed—"his hair lank, and his face swathed with linen, having had his jaw laid open for an inflammation"—and after commenting severely upon the arbitrary action of the House in erasing a record entered in the lord mayor's book, proceeded to twit the government with its obsequiousness to female caprice and boldly declared their arbitrary measures to be due to the baneful influence of the Princess Dowager of Wales.[288] Such a declaration was not only in bad taste, but contrary to Parliamentary usage. Nevertheless it was placidly listened to and only received a tardy and weak denial from Lord North—a sign that the House felt the insecurity of its position.

On Tuesday (26 March) a Common Council sat, summoned by Trecothick, who had been appointed (12 March), to act as locum tenens of the lord mayor during his "absence or illness." After transacting several matters of business, the court resolved unanimously "that during the confinement of Mr. Alderman Oliver in the Tower of London a table be provided for him at the expense of this city, under the direction and management of the committee appointed at the last court to assist the lord mayor and the Aldermen Wilkes and Oliver in their defence on the charge brought against them by the House of Commons."[289]

The committal of Oliver was only one of a series of blunders of which Parliament had been guilty since the arrest of the printers. The position of affairs was clearly defined in letters written by Chatham at the time. "The state of the business seems to me clearly this: the discharge of Miller, taken under the Speaker's warrant, I think contrary to the established jurisdiction of the House, with regard to printers of their proceedings and debates; but I hold also as fully, that in a conflict of jurisdiction, the lord mayor and city magistrates, acting under an oath of office and their charter, cannot be proceeded against criminally by the House, without the highest injustice and oppression." Again:—"the House becomes flagrantly unjust and tyrannical, the moment it proceeds criminally against magistrates standing for a jurisdiction they are bound to maintain, in a conflict of respectable rights." He goes on to say that "nothing appears to me more distinct, than declaring their right to jurisdiction, with regard to printers of their proceedings and debates, and punishing their member, and in him his constituents, for what he has done in discharge of his oath and conscience as a magistrate."[290]

This view was also strenuously supported by Junius,[291] who was emphatic that "as magistrates," Crosby and Oliver "had nothing to regard but the obligation of their oaths, and the execution of the laws. If they were convinced that the Speaker's warrant was not a legal authority to the messenger, it necessarily followed that, when he was charged upon oath with a breach of the peace, they must hold him to bail. They had no option."

On Wednesday (27 March), Crosby again attended in his place, as directed, to hear the decision of the House in his case. He was accompanied as before by an "amazing number of people" anxious to learn the issue; "guards, both horse and foot, were ordered to be in readiness, in case any tumult should arise. The city was all in motion; and by its acclamations testified its satisfaction with his conduct." Although he arrived at the House early in the afternoon, it was past eight o'clock in evening before the House was ready to take his business into consideration. Meanwhile the approaches to the House were in the hands of the mob who threatened many of the members with violence. Lord North, in particular, was made the object of a violent attack. His coach was demolished and he himself narrowly escaped being killed. Others, and among them Charles Fox, who had made himself especially obnoxious to the citizens by speaking of Oliver as an "assassin of the constitution," were also insulted, but not so outrageously.[292] The justices confessed to the House their inability to read the Riot Act, and declared that the constables were powerless. The sheriffs of London—William Baker and Richard Martin—being members of the House,[293] were thereupon desired to go themselves and endeavour to disperse the crowd,[294] and at their intervention peace was at length restored.

The House being now prepared to proceed with the chief business of the day, a motion was made for committing the lord mayor to the custody of the sergeant-at-arms, instead of sending him to the gloomier quarters of the Tower, on account of his ill-health. Crosby, however, at once desired that no such favour might be shown him; he was quite prepared, he said, to join his honourable friend in the Tower. An amendment was accordingly moved that he should be committed to the Tower, and this was carried by 202 votes to 39.[295] It was now past midnight. Crosby returned to the Mansion House for a short rest, and at four o'clock in the morning sent for a hackney coach and drove to the Tower.

A few hours later the Common Council resolved to furnish him with a "table" at the City's expense, as they had previously done for Oliver. Both prisoners acknowledged with gratitude the favour thus shown to them by their fellow citizens, and both promised solemnly to continue their efforts to maintain the rights and privileges of the City, but the lord mayor declined the offer to furnish his table during his incarceration, as he did not wish to put the City to any additional expense on his account.[296] Oliver's letter contained some very caustic remarks upon the attitude of the government towards the City. "The last ten years have afforded the city of London, in particular, every instance of neglect, unkindness, insult and injury; their petitions have been rejected, slighted, ridiculed; their property unjustly conveyed to others; their charters violated;[297] their laws contemned; their magistrates imprisoned. The power that consumes us has the plainest and most odious marks of despotism, abject abroad and insolent at home. Whether our rights will in the end be peaceably re-established or whether this violence will be pursued is more than I can certainly declare, but this I will venture to say for myself that they must either change their laws or the magistrates, for my adherence to my duty shall be invariably the same, regardless of consequences."[298]

The temper of the populace at witnessing "the new and extraordinary spectacle of the lord mayor of the city of London and one of its principal magistrates being committed prisoners to the Tower," vented itself in a very characteristic manner. On the 1st April a great mob proceeded to Tower Hill following a hearse and two carts, in which were figures representing the princess dowager, Lord Bute, the Speaker, and both the Foxes. The figures were beheaded by a chimney sweeper, after mock prayers, and then burnt. A like ceremony took place a few days later with figures of Lord Halifax, Lord Barrington, Alderman Harley, Colonel Luttrell, nicknamed "the usurper," Lord Sandwich, otherwise known as "Jemmy Twitcher," Colonel Onslow, who had been made so furious because a newspaper had called him "Cocking George," and De Grey, the attorney-general. Their supposed dying speeches were, to the intense amusement of the multitude, hawked about the streets.[299]

Wilkes, who had been no less an offender (if offence there was) in holding the Speaker's warrant to be illegal, got off scot free. Three times was he summoned to the bar of the House to answer for his conduct, and three times he refused to obey unless the House would acknowledge him as member for Middlesex. Ministers preferred to leave him unmolested, resorting even to a subterfuge in order to allow him to escape. It is true that, like Lord Shaftesbury in the reign of Charles II, he had removed for safety from his house in Westminster to lodgings in the city, but few can doubt his readiness, if need be, to share the fate of his brother aldermen in so good a cause. In the words of Junius, he was already a "wounded soldier" in the cause of liberty, and could point to "real prosecutions, real penalties, real imprisonment,"[300] and he deserves at least a part of the reward of the victory thus gained for the freedom of the press.

More than one attempt was made by the committee appointed for the defence of Crosby and Oliver to obtain their release on writs of Habeas Corpus, but in vain. They remained therefore in confinement, receiving a constant succession of friends and supporters, including Edmund Burke and the Dukes of Manchester and Portland, until set free by the prorogation of Parliament on the 8th May. The Common Council had, in anticipation of that event, resolved (3 May) to go in procession in their gowns, accompanied by the city officers to escort them from the Tower to the Mansion House.[301] As Crosby and Oliver emerged from the Tower gate they were welcomed with a salute of twenty-one guns by the Artillery Company, and carried, amid universal shouts of joy, to the Mansion House, from the balcony of which they bowed their acknowledgments. In the evening the city was illuminated.

Even after their release the Common Council remained dissatisfied, and determined to take counsel's opinion as to the possibility of testing the legality of the action of Parliament. Counsel having given an adverse opinion it was resolved to let the matter rest until the meeting of the livery on Midsummer-day.[302] As soon as the livery were informed how matters stood they drew up another address and remonstrance calling upon the king to dissolve Parliament. This time it was their intention to attend the presentation of the address in a body, clad in their livery gowns.[303] The king, however, objected to receiving so large a number, and the lord mayor was informed that only the number "allowed by law" would be permitted to attend.[304] The livery had to give way, and the address was presented in the manner prescribed by the king. The answer they got was short and sharp; the king contenting himself with expressing his concern that a part of his subjects should have been so misled and deluded as to renew a request with which he had repeatedly declared that he could not comply.[305]

The more important business transacted at this Common Hall was the election of sheriffs for the ensuing year. Wilkes had declared his intention of standing, and had asked Oliver—at that time a prisoner in the Tower—if he intended doing the same, regardless of the claims of senior aldermen. Oliver hesitated as to the course he should pursue, but finally wrote to Wilkes (11 April, 1771) expressing a determination not to serve with him, inasmuch as their political aims were not identical. Wilkes little relished this rebuff, and took exception to the propriety of Oliver's reply; as for himself, he said, "I am ready to serve the office of sheriff with you, sir, or any other gentleman given me by the livery as a colleague, should they think proper to elect me."[306] The election was watched with great interest by the king, who was afraid that Wilkes might succeed in getting elected, although supported only by "a small, though desperate," part of the livery, and he wrote to Lord North expressing a hope that no effort might be wanting to secure the election of Plumbe and Kirkman, the two senior aldermen who had not served.[307] He was doomed to disappointment. The livery declared for Wilkes and Frederick Bull, a creature of Wilkes, and a poll was demanded. This lasted several days, and on the 3rd July the result showed a large majority in their favour, and they were declared duly elected. Oliver came out at the bottom of the poll.[308]

The activity of court interference in this election was revealed by an unhappy contretemps. A letter which "Jack" Robinson, Lord North's secretary, had sent to Benjamin Smith, a partner of Alderman Nash, an "opulent grocer" of Cannon Street, urging him to "push the poll" with as many friends as possible, was carried by mistake to another Smith, of Budge Row, a Wilkite, who immediately published it with an affidavit as to its authenticity. The result was, as might be expected, the greater discomfiture of the ministerial candidates.[309]

Walpole was no less struck with the irrepressibility of Wilkes's character than annoyed at his being elected to an office which would bring him into close contact with the king;—"Wilkes is another Phoenix revived from his own ashes. He was sunk—it was over with him; but the ministers too precipitately hurrying to bury him alive, blew up the embers, and he is again as formidable as ever; and what will seem worse he must go into the very closet whenever the city sends him there with a message.... Wilkes in prison is chosen member of Parliament and then alderman of London. His colleagues betray him, desert him, expose him, and he becomes sheriff of London."[310] Walpole's fears as to Wilkes's personal demeanour in office were groundless. As an alderman of the city he might have made himself sufficiently obnoxious at court had he so pleased, but he knew himself to be no persona grata to the king, and on that account was careful to keep out of his sight. That he knew how to behave on occasion is shown by his conduct during his mayoralty, when he surprised everybody, the king included, by his agreeable manner.

Although determined to act with propriety in his personal relationships, Wilkes was no less determined to make himself as obnoxious to the king and his ministers as he well could in his official capacity as sheriff. "I will skirmish with the great almost every day in some way or other," he wrote to Junius. Again, with reference to the House of Lords, he informs his friend that "the sheriff means the attack."[311] A few days previous to his entering upon his duties he and his colleague, Bull, made a bid for popularity by a spirited act. The presence of the military at executions had been resented the previous year, and now in a short letter addressed to the livery they announced their determination to follow the example set by their predecessors in office and not to allow soldiers to attend: "We are determined to follow so meritorious an example, and as that melancholy part of our office will commence in a very few days we take this opportunity of declaring that as the constitution has entrusted us with the whole power of the county, we will not, during our sheriffalty, suffer any part of the army to interfere or even to attend, as on many former occasions, on the pretence of aiding or assisting the civil magistrate.... The magistrate, with the assistance of those in his jurisdiction, is by experience known to be strong enough to enforce all legal commands, without the aid of a standing army." Junius thought this letter "very proper and well drawn."[312]

Another proceeding on the part of Wilkes failed however to meet with like approval. The 25th October being the anniversary of the king's accession, there was to be a thanksgiving service at St. Paul's which the sheriffs in the ordinary course of their duties would be expected to attend. Wilkes took it into his head that he would prefer not to go "in a ginger-bread chariot to yawn through a dull sermon." He accordingly prepared a letter to the lord mayor, asking that he might be allowed to sit at Old Bailey instead of taking part in what he called a "vain parade" on the anniversary of the accession of a prince, whose government was so unpopular. Before sending this missive he submitted it to Junius.[313] The latter thought it "more spirited than judicious," and suggested that it was impolitic, to say the least, for "a grave sheriff" to mark his entrance into office with a direct outrage to the king, for outrage it was. He advises his friend to "consider the matter coolly," but in case Wilkes persisted, he sent him a more temperate form of letter.[314] The advice thus given was followed, and Wilkes abandoned his intention.

Wilkes had thus advanced another step in civic life, in spite of an unfortunate habit he had of quarrelling with his best friends. He had disgusted, or had himself thrown over, Horne, Sawbridge, Townshend and Oliver, all of whom were members with him of the society known as the Supporters of the Bill of Rights, and all had contributed towards relieving him of his pecuniary difficulties. Townshend and Horne had recently joined forces "to wrest the city out of Wilkes's hands," and Horne had done his best in a quiet way to prevent Wilkes being returned as sheriff, although he denied taking any part in the election.[315] He even ridiculed the idea in a letter to Wilkes (10 July), commencing "Give you joy, Sir,[316] the parson of Brentford is at length defeated. He no longer rules with an absolute sway over the city of London."[317] Wilkes was now to receive support from a quarter least expected. Hitherto, the redoubtable Junius had treated Wilkes with little more than contempt.[318] He was now to become one of his warmest supporters. It was not that Junius entertained any great respect for Wilkes; it was enough that Wilkes was opposed to the ministry, and that he promised to be "a thorn in the king's side."[319] On the 21st August, about noon, Wilkes received a mysterious letter,[320] the writer of which proved to be Junius himself. After assuring Wilkes of his willingness to support him so long as he (Wilkes) depended only upon public favour and made common cause with the people, Junius comes to the real purport of his letter. He was especially anxious that Sawbridge should be chosen mayor at the coming election on Michaelmas-day, and he uses all his art of persuasion upon Wilkes to get him to support Sawbridge's candidature. He repudiates all idea of self-interest in wishing to see Sawbridge in the mayoralty chair in place of Crosby, who was reported to be seeking a second year of office. "By all that's honourable I mean nothing but the cause"—his letter concluded—"and I may defy your keenest penetration to assign a satisfactory reason why Junius, whoever he be, should have a personal interest in giving the mayoralty to Mr. Sawbridge, rather than to Mr. Crosby."

The letter was very flattering, and Wilkes was pleased. "I am satisfied that Junius now means me well,"—he wrote in reply (12 Sept.)—"and I wish to merit more than his regard, his friendship," but with his usual independence he declined to desert Brass Crosby, to whom he had promised his support before the arrival of Junius's letter. He was even prepared to do a little juggling in order to support Crosby's re-election. "To make Crosby mayor, it is necessary to return to the Court of Aldermen another man so obnoxious that it is impossible for them to elect him. Bridgen I take to be this man. While he presided in the city, he treated them with insolence, was exceedingly rude and scurrilous to them personally, starved them at the few entertainments he gave, and pocketed the city cash.[321]" Even if Bridgen were re-elected by any chance, Crosby would probably be appointed his locum tenens (Wilkes proceeded to point out), and so in any event all would be well. As for Sawbridge, little good could come of a reconciliation, "I allow him honest, but think he has more mulishness than understanding, more understanding than candour." Sawbridge moreover had already declared, that if he were chosen mayor at the next election he would pay fine rather than serve, "because Townshend ought to be mayor"—a declaration which Wilkes characterises as bordering on insanity.[322]

The correspondence thus commenced in so warm and friendly a manner was continued for several months. Finding himself unable to prevail upon Wilkes to become reconciled with Sawbridge, Junius contented himself with warning him at all hazards not to allow a "ministerial alderman" to be elected into the mayoralty chair, and begging that if after a fair canvas of the livery it was found that Bridgen had no chance of being returned, he would give up the point at once, and let Sawbridge be returned with Crosby—"a more likely way, in my judgment, to make Crosby lord mayor."[323]

When the election came on, Bridgen was not even nominated. The choice of the livery was declared to have fallen on Sawbridge and Crosby. Thereupon a poll was demanded on behalf of Bankes, Nash, Hallifax and Townshend. Whilst the poll was proceeding Junius issued an impassioned address to the livery calling upon them to set aside Nash—to whom he refers as the senior alderman below the chair, which Nash was not[324]—and to return Crosby and Sawbridge, men who were ready to execute the extraordinary as well as the ordinary duties of the mayoralty, who would grant Common Halls whenever necessary, carry up remonstrances to the king, and not be afraid to face the House of Commons or to suffer imprisonment. Of Nash's private character he declared he knew nothing, but as a public man he knew him to have done everything in his power to destroy the freedom of popular election in the city, and to have distinguished himself by thwarting the livery. He concludes his address by apologising for his passionate language.—"The subject comes home to us all. It is the language of my heart."[325] The efforts of Junius were of little avail. On the 8th October, the result of the poll was declared, and Nash and Sawbridge being returned (the former by a large majority), the Court of Aldermen selected Nash to be mayor for the ensuing year. The "ministerial candidate" had got in. During the election Wilkes and his brother aldermen, Townshend and Sawbridge, were frequently at loggerheads, whilst Nash was so grievously assaulted on his way to the Guildhall that his life was in danger.[326]

Upon Crosby's quitting office the Common Council passed him a vote of thanks for the courage he had displayed in refusing to back press warrants, and for his conduct in respect of the arrest of Miller. Early in the following year he was voted a silver cup of the value of £200, whilst Wilkes and Oliver were presented with other cups each of the value of £100. A proposal that a piece of plate of the value of £400 should be provided at the City's expense and inscribed in honour of these champions of the City's liberties, to form a part of the City's plate, was not adopted.[327]

Nash had not long been mayor before he came into collision both with the livery and the Common Council. When a requisition was made to him in February, 1772, to summon a Common Hall for the purpose of instructing the city members to support Sawbridge in one of his many attempts to obtain triennial parliaments, he refused to do so on the ground that by an order of the livery of Midsummer-day last, the question of the rights of the livery was about to be decided in a court of law, informations having been laid against those companies who had refused to obey the mayor's precept.[328] He thought that in the meantime it would be well to suspend the exercise of his prerogative, more especially as most matters of importance connected with the city could be settled by the Common Council, which he professed himself always ready to call when necessity required. Not satisfied with his reply the livery held an informal meeting at the Half Moon Tavern in Cheapside, and persuaded a number of members of the Common Council to make a written application to the mayor to summon a court on the 18th February, for the purpose of considering the request of the livery. The mayor agreed to summon a court but declined to allow the application of the livery to be placed on the paper of business. A Common Council was eventually summoned for the 20th, when the several applications of the livery and of the members of the court having been read, a motion was made that the Common Council should give instructions to the city members to support Sawbridge's bill. This motion being lost, another was made and carried, desiring the lord mayor to summon a Common Hall for the same purpose. Thereupon Nash addressed the court in these words:—"I am very sorry this question has been put, I cannot grant your request for the reasons given in my former answer to the livery to which I refer you." After passing a resolution that such members of the court as were also members of parliament, should be requested to support every measure tending to shorten the duration of parliaments, the court proceeded to consider whether it should not on its own responsibility issue precepts for a Common Hall. It was at length decided to leave this question to a committee.[329] Junius was very disgusted at Nash's conduct. "What an abandoned prostituted idiot is your lord mayor,"—is the choice expression he makes use of to Woodfall, his printer. Again, "the shameful mismanagement which brought him into office, gave me the first and unconquerable disgust."[330] In the following May the committee just mentioned recommended that counsel's opinion should be taken on the matter referred to them, but by this time Sawbridge's motion had been rejected, and all immediate necessity for an extraordinary Common Hall had passed away.[331] When Nash quitted office, this refusal of his to summon a Common Hall was remembered against him, and the customary vote of thanks was denied him.[332]

Matters remained as they were until Midsummer-day, when the livery took the opportunity of a meeting of Common Hall to draw up instructions to the city members to support Sawbridge and short parliaments. The terms of the address were scarcely such as a member of Parliament of the present day would tolerate from his constituents:—"When we made choice of you, sirs, to transact our business in Parliament we considered all of you to be possessed of fortune sufficient to render you independent; but such is the depravity of the present age that the more wealthy seem the easiest to be corrupted. Altho' some of you may have approved yourselves worthy of the confidence reposed in you, yet others, we are sorry to be obliged to observe, have been deficient in their duty. It becomes necessary, therefore, that we should exercise our indisputable right of instructing you, our representatives." All the oppression under which the country had suffered for the last thirteen years were due (they said) to long parliaments. As for the existing House they had not a good word to say. What (they asked) was to be thought of a House "which, devoid of all decency, could force the poor timid servant of a corporation to erase a judicial record—an House that could even punish two members of its own body in a most arbitrary manner for acting with integrity in a judicial capacity, nay! for adhering to their charters and their oaths, and virtuously administering justice!" Experience had taught them that what had been intended as a bulwark of their liberties had become a mere engine of oppression. A worthy alderman of the city (they declared in conclusion) had realised the danger of septennial parliaments, and had more than once endeavoured to shorten their duration, but unfortunately he had not received the support he deserved. As Sawbridge would no doubt renew his motion in the coming winter they insisted that each member should "afford him all possible support in order to restore us to our antient right of annually electing our representatives in Parliament."[333] Brave words, these! but all to little purpose. The Septennial Act outlived this and many another effort to obtain its repeal, and remains in force to this day.

The election of a mayor to succeed Nash was keenly contested. Bankes, Hallifax and Shakespeare were the senior aldermen below the chair, but these were set aside by the livery in favour of Wilkes and Townshend. A poll was demanded, and the business of taking the poll lasted until the 8th October. The king was in a great state of excitement, and was kept posted up by Lord North with each day's proceedings. "I trust by your account of this day's poll," he wrote to the minister (3 Oct.),[334] "that there can be no doubt that it will end favourably; the mob being less quiet this day is a proof that to [sic] riot, not numbers, the patriots alone can draw advantage." Again on the 5th October, when the voice of the city was evidently in favour of Wilkes, he writes: "The unpromising appearance of this day's poll does not in the least surprise me, knowing that Wilkes is not bound by any tyes, therefore would poll non-freemen rather than lose the election." He fancied that if Wilkes failed to get returned as one of the two to be submitted to the Court of Aldermen for selection he would not be allowed to stand again,[335] but here the king was in error. His hopes were damped by Wilkes being returned at the head of the poll, followed closely by Townshend, their respective votes being 2,301 and 2,278.[336] Although Townshend and Wilkes were at the time personal enemies, yet many of Wilkes's friends were induced to give Townshend their second votes, in order to prevent a "court candidate" being successful. This at least is Horace Walpole's account, who declares that Townshend "disdained to canvass or even to attend the election," and that without the assistance of Wilkes's supporters he would have had "scarce any votes." On the other hand we must remember that, intense as was the personal animosity at this time between Townshend and Wilkes, both of them had one and the same political object in view, viz., the overthrow of the government, and Townshend must have added considerably to his popularity in the city by his recent refusal to pay his land tax on the plea that the Parliament which had ordained it was no true Parliament owing to the exclusion of Wilkes and intrusion of Luttrell.[337] The king's only remaining hope was that the result of the poll might be upset by a scrutiny demanded on behalf of Hallifax and Shakespeare. "I hope the scrutiny will be conducted with great exactness," he again writes to Lord North (6 Oct.), at the same time expressing a doubt as to whether such a thing was to be expected from Oliver and Watkin Lewes, who had succeeded Wilkes and Bull in the shrievalty. If these did their duty he felt sure it would go hard with Wilkes, whose "little regard to true votes" would soon be exposed, and "do him great injury, even among his admirers."[338]

Again the king was doomed to disappointment. The scrutiny, according to the Minutes of the Proceedings of the Common Hall preserved at the Guildhall, continued until the 24th day of the month, when the votes for each candidate were declared to be exactly the same as before, and Wilkes and Townshend being returned to the Court of Aldermen for their selection of one, that body chose Townshend to be mayor for the ensuing year. According to Walpole[339] the scrutiny was not proceeded with, and Wilkes was certain of being elected (Townshend being expected to withdraw in his favour) had not alderman and sheriff Oliver, his former friend, brought about his defeat by hastily collecting a Court of Aldermen before the Wilkite aldermen could take their seats, and getting Townshend named lord mayor. Such a proceeding on the part of Oliver is scarcely probable, if, indeed possible, and receives no corroboration from the City's record of what took place.[340]

On lord mayor's day the partisans of Wilkes, smarting at their defeat, raised a riot at night outside the Guildhall, where a ball was being held. The assistance of the Artillery Company had to be called in, and they remained on duty all night. The new lord mayor, who was somewhat hot-headed, "proposed to sally out with drawn swords and fall on the mob," but was restrained. He, however, caused some of the rioters to be seized and committed to Newgate, and declared that he would bring home the riot to Wilkes. The whole city was now, and had been for some time, so split up into factions that even a vote of thanks to the Artillery Company for striving to keep order was with difficulty passed.[341] "A headstrong, self-willed spirit has sunk the City into nothing," wrote Chatham at the beginning of the year.[342] The government could afford to look upon Wilkes's disappointment and the unpopularity of Townshend with complacency, the real damage was to the nation, which, to use the words of Walpole, "saw those who would have gone farthest to stem the encroachments of the crown divided and warring each other."[343]

Following in the steps of Sawbridge, his brother alderman and colleague during his shrievalty, Townshend introduced a motion before the Court of Aldermen on the 16th February (1773) to the effect "that a frequent appeal to the constituent part of the people by short parliaments is their undoubted right and the only means by which they can enjoy or maintain their right of a real representation."[344] Wilkes was the only alderman who raised any objection to the motion. He would willingly have given his vote against it, if only to spite Townshend, but he dared not do so. The motion was therefore carried unanimously.[345]

Three weeks later (11 March) a special Common Hall was summoned for the purpose of drawing up another remonstrance to the king, and of pledging the livery and the city members to use their utmost endeavours to obtain shorter parliaments. This new remonstrance—a "flagrant piece of impertinence," as the king styled it in a letter to Lord North (13 March)[346]—was said to have been the work of Wilkes, who drafted it in such terms that his enemy the lord mayor "would be undone at St. James's if he presented it, and stoned by the people if he did not."[347] It was resolved that the remonstrance should be presented by the mayor, the city members, the aldermen, the sheriffs and ten of the livery in their gowns, attended by the Recorder and city officers.[348] Wilkes showed considerable shrewdness in declining to attend, excusing himself on the ground that he knew himself to be personally disliked by the king. He would, he said, willingly have attended had he been sheriff, but now that he was only an alderman there was no reason for him to thrust himself where he was not wanted. "I am not used to go into any gentleman's house who does not wish to see me."[349] Even the livery seemed to shrink from having a hand in presenting so disreputable an address, for only eight of them attended at St. James's.

The document was presented to the king on Friday, the 26th March. It was (presumably) received on the throne, although the Common Council do not appear to have been present to give it a corporate character. A copy of it had previously reached the king's hands, and he had made up his mind, as he told Lord North,[350] that a "dry answer, rather bordering on contempt than anger," was the most suitable reply to make to a representation at once "the most violent, insolent and licentious ever presented." The answer he actually returned was more than "dry," and the deputation was dismissed with his majesty declaring that their petition was so void of foundation, and withal so disrespectful, that "I am convinced you do not yourselves seriously imagine it can be complied with."[351]

A month later an opportunity was afforded Wilkes of again claiming his seat in Parliament. War with France seemed imminent, and a call of the House[352] was moved for the 26th April. The sheriffs of London[353] thereupon sent a summons to Wilkes (not Luttrell) as member for Middlesex, and informed the Speaker of what they had done. Wilkes also wrote a bold letter to the Speaker asserting his right. On the day of the call Wilkes went to the crown office and demanded his writ, which was refused him by the deputy-clerk. Thence he proceeded to Westminster, attended by his friends and supporters. The guards were held in readiness, but there was no disturbance. Glynn—recently appointed Recorder of London—moved that Wilkes should be heard at the bar of the House as to his complaint against the deputy-clerk, and the motion was seconded by Sawbridge. The House was in no mood, however, to meet one who had so often worsted them, and the motion was rejected by 227 votes to 124.[354]

When Midsummer-day (1773) came round Plumbe and Kirkman were for the fourth time rejected for the shrievalty in favour of Plomer and Sayre. Plomer paid fine and Lee was elected in his place. The livery being determined more than ever to win their independence and to break away from the authority of the mayor, took the opportunity of their meeting together to consult the new Recorder upon the question "whether the livery of London legally assembled in Common Hall, either on this or any other day, have not a right to enter upon any matter of public grievance they may think proper?" Glynn at once replied that they had an undoubted right, and that it was "beyond dispute that the right is inherent in them."[355] This important dictum negativing, as it did, a decision of Glynn's predecessor,[356] was afterwards used by Wilkes with effect in his famous letter to Lord Hertford (2 May, 1775).

The aspirations of the livery were (at least for a time) damped by the decision given a few weeks later in a case known as "Plumbe's case." It will be remembered that in 1770 certain livery companies had objected to the tone of a recent remonstrance, and had in consequence passed resolutions forbidding their members to attend Common Halls except for the purpose of elections. A joint committee of the livery and the Common Council had thereupon been appointed to take counsel's opinion upon the rights of the livery.[357] Among the counsel consulted on the question was Glynn, and he and his brethren had given it as their opinion (June, 1771) that the mayor for the time being might legally summon a Common Hall; that it was the duty of those livery companies to whom precepts were sent by the mayor to execute those precepts, and that a wilful refusal was punishable by disfranchisement, the procedure being by way of information filed by the common sergeant in the mayor's court. Informations had accordingly been filed against the masters or wardens of the several companies of Goldsmiths, Weavers and Grocers by order of Common Hall,[358] but only one, viz., that against Alderman Plumbe, of the Goldsmiths, was proceeded with. The question was tried before a jury on the 14th July of this year (1773) with the result that Plumbe was convicted and adjudged to be disfranchised.[359]

The powers of the livery were further defined in a legal opinion delivered about this time by the Recorder and Common Sergeant on the questions (1) Whether the lord mayor, aldermen and livery of London in Common Hall assembled could do any corporate act except under the powers given them by Acts of Parliament; (2) Whether an order of the livery in Common Hall to the Town Clerk to affix his signature to such a document as the last remonstrance would be a sufficient justification for him in a court of law in case of a criminal prosecution; and lastly (3) Whether individuals signing such a remonstrance be liable to a prosecution of libel? To the first two questions counsel made the following answer;—"From the best information wee can get of the usage and constitution of the City the Common Hall is not empowered to do any act strictly corporate not having the direction of the City Seal. They can do no act that binds the estate of the City or that effects the admission or removal of any of its members." Then, referring to the former opinion of the Recorder just mentioned, they proceeded to say;—"wee did in concurrence with Mr. Solicitor-General and Mr. Dunning upon consideration give an opinion that a Common Hall was a lawful assembly vested with legal powers. Wee find that opinion warranted by Lord Coke's authority, and therefore without more research and enquiry than can now be made, wee cannot alter our opinion." They were further of opinion "that no Act of Common Hall can endanger the Charters or Franchises of the city, and wee think that the right of petitioning a necessary consequence of a lawful assembly." As a result of their answer to the first question they believed that the Town Clerk, being by office the clerk of a legally convened meeting of the Common Hall, would not render himself criminally liable by giving his signature to the acts and resolutions of that assembly. As to the question of libel, that depended upon a variety of circumstances, but in their private opinion counsel believed that no one presenting the late remonstrance could be treated legally as a criminal.[360]

At Michaelmas, Wilkes again put up for the mayoralty, but although he was again returned at the head of the poll he was again rejected by the Court of Aldermen in favour of his friend Bull.[361] Before the end of the year Bull was also chosen member for the City in the place of Ladbroke, who had died. A petition was laid before Parliament against his election, and in favour of his opponent, John Roberts, a court candidate, but was afterwards withdrawn.[362] The king had at one time expressed himself to North as thinking it best not to offer any opposition to Bull's election as member for the city, unless there was a good hope of success. "If Alderman Bull can be with success opposed, I should think it eligible; but if that is not pretty certain it is best not to interfere."[363] On learning, however, that Roberts, a former director of the East India Company, was about to stand he wished him success.[364] Previous to his election Bull signed an engagement (formulated by the livery at their meeting in March), to use his best endeavours to shorten the duration of parliaments; to exclude pensioners and placemen from the House; to establish a fair and equal representation of the people in Parliament; and to redress the grievances and secure the constitutional rights of his fellow subjects in Great Britain, Ireland and America. He also solemnly promised not to accept from the crown or its ministers any place, pension, contract, title, gratuity or emolument whatsoever.[365]

It was during Bull's mayoralty that the relations between England and her American colonies became so strained that in 1775 the two countries were at open war. For the past ten years the colonies had displayed more or less resistance to the British government. In 1765 the Stamp Act was passed, and in the following year it had to be repealed. The irritation caused by its imposition remained, however, and the colonists began to ignore the authority of British Acts of Parliament. In 1767 another Act was passed by Parliament imposing import duties in America upon certain articles, and among them upon tea; but the Act was rendered from the outset almost a dead letter through the resistance offered to the execution of its provisions. Matters were not improved by the repeal of all the duties, except that on tea, three years later (1770), more especially when the Americans learnt that Lord North openly acknowledged that he retained the tea duty, not on account of its value, but simply in order to assert the right of England to tax her colonies. The crisis came in 1773, when the tea-ships lying in Boston harbour were attacked, and their cargo flung into the sea. In September of the following year (1774) all the American colonies agreed to combine in stopping commercial intercourse with Great Britain until their grievances were redressed.

In the meantime a Bill had passed the Lords, and been sent down to the Commons, giving a constitution to Canada. The City presented a strong petition against the Bill (3 June) as unduly favouring the Roman Catholics, and begged the king to withhold his assent after the Bill had passed both Houses.[366] It was to no purpose. The country generally, and the clergy of the Established Church more particularly, showed great indifference,[367] and the Bill became law. The mayor received a letter of thanks from the Protestant settlers in Quebec, through Francis Maseres, (Cursitor Baron) for what the City had done in the matter; and the City thus encouraged resolved to continue its efforts and endeavour to get the Act repealed as soon as possible.[368] The king was strongly of opinion that the agitation in the City was merely got up "just to make a noise" at the coming elections in Common Hall,[369] and Walpole appears to have been much of the same opinion. He believed it was a move on the part of Wilkes in order to carry the election of sheriffs. By getting two friends appointed sheriffs he would be in a position to get Reynolds, his own attorney and election agent, appointed under-sheriff, and so "be more sure of the returning officer against the general election," which was fast approaching.[370] If this were so his scheme was frustrated for his nominees failed to get elected.

His star nevertheless was soon to be again in the ascendant. At the next election to the mayoralty, he was not only again returned at the head of the poll, but second to him was Bull, his friend, and actual mayor. The other candidates who went to the poll were James Esdaile and Brackley Kennet, both of them senior to Wilkes. Hallifax and Shakespeare, the senior of all did not even go to the poll. Sawbridge who was next below Wilkes did not press his candidature, as the latter—according to Walpole—"had regained him by promising to bring him into parliament for the city." According to the same authority Wilkes "made" Bull decline the chair a second time, and hence it came to pass that when these two were returned to the Court of Aldermen, eleven voted for Wilkes, whilst only two, viz., Townshend and Oliver, voted for Bull. "Thus, after so much persecution of the court, after so many attempts on his life, after a long imprisonment in a goal, after all his crimes and indiscretions, did this extraordinary man, of more extraordinary fortune, attain the highest office in so grave and important a city as the capital of England."[371] That night Alderman Harley, an old opponent of Wilkes, had his windows broken, and the culprit was carried before Wilkes himself.[372]

Nor did his success end here. The mayoralty election was still pending when parliament was dissolved (30 Sept.), and writs issued for a new one to meet on the 29th November. Wilkes was again returned for Middlesex and with him his friend, Glynn, the Recorder. The popularity of Wilkes was indeed now so great that he was believed to be capable of carrying no less than twelve seats. Prior to their election both candidates signed an undertaking to use their best endeavours to shorten the duration of parliaments, remove placemen and pensioners from the House, advocate the repeal of the Quebec Act, and generally to follow the line of policy adopted by the livery of London, and recently accepted by Bull.[373] When the City elections came on, Bull and Oliver kept their seats, although Oliver declined to enter into any engagement. Wilkes kept his promise with Sawbridge (if any were really given), and Sawbridge was returned together with Wilkes's own brother-in-law, George Hayley. The irrepressible demagogue was at last allowed to take his seat without any opposition. Had he been permitted to have done so five years before, he would probably have sunk into insignificance, but now he "forced his way triumphantly, and came vested with the insignia of the first magistracy in England, and supported by half a dozen members of his own nomination."[374] His triumph was complete in 1782, when he succeeded in getting the House to stultify itself by rescinding its proceedings touching the Middlesex elections.[375] In the dogged persistence with which he fought the House of Commons and finally came off victorious, he reminds us of no one so much as of the late Charles Bradlaugh, member for Northampton; in other respects the two characters will not bear comparison.