A History of London, Vol. I

Loftie, W. J.

1883

CHAPTER XIII. THE BANK.

CHAPTER XIII. THE BANK.

 

WHILE was rebuilding London, the king was doing all he could to ruin the Londoners. Experience had taught the Stuarts nothing. . could not see, any more than his unfortunate father, that the prosperity of the kingdom, nay even of the king himself, was bound up in the prosperity of the city. The consequences of his disastrous policy fell slightly on himself but they ruined his successor. There can be no doubt that the dethronement of the dynasty became a certainty when London had decided against it. The causes of that decision have been detailed by many historians, and notably by one for whose readers no new arrangement of facts would have much interest.[1]  It will be only necessary here, therefore, to state those circumstances which relate strictly to the city, and especially those which resulted in the establishment of a modern " guild merchant" of such power that it regulates the trade, not of London only, nor even of England, but of Europe and the world.

The wealth of London, even after the great fire, was enormous, but the principle part of it was in the hands of the goldsmiths. What the mercers had been in the sixteenth century, the goldsmiths were in the seventeenth. They did not call themselves bankers, but professed to keep "running cashes," or, in modern

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language, credit accounts. Gradually they gave up goldsmith work and confined their business to money. Lombard Street became and continues to be their headquarters, as it had been that of the Italian money-lenders of the thirteenth century-the goldsmiths having previously occupied the western end of Cheap, where Old Change still commemorates their residence and the object of their trade. In [2]  there were no fewer than thirty-seven goldsmiths keeping running cashes in Lombard Street. The seizure by I. of a sum said to have amounted to 200,000£. which the London goldsmiths had deposited for safety in the Tower, forced them to find some better use for money than storing it. The practice of lending it at a moderate rate of interest was very soon followed by that of receivingit upon deposit. Thus, as early as the time of the Commonwealth, banking, as we understand it, was flourishing. Cheques, under the name of "goldsmith's notes" were in use. Oliver himself had an account [3]  at the Marygold, a house just within Temple Bar in which Wheeler kept running cashes. He had also dealings with Edward Backwell, of the Unicorn in Lombard Street, Alderman of the Ward of .

The great banker of the day was this Edward Backwell. Pepys mentions him many times. Among the diarist's most self-complacent entries are those which tell of the money he laid out in table silver, and in cups for presents. But Pepys also visited Backwell for political

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purposes. The pay of the troops in the garrison of Dunkirk, and other expenses connected with that fort, went through the great goldsmith's hands, as did the money received from the French when, so much to the disgust of his subjects, . sold Dunkirk to Louis XIV. Backwell also made loans to the crown on various kinds of security, and Pepys went to him in to advance a small sum for the navy. Backwell was constantly sent by the king on messages to France, and we may be sure was the intermediary in many money dealings between and Louis after the famous treaty of Dover. Before the fire he used to take deposits, allowing as much as 6 per cent. interest at twenty days' call, and even 3 and one half per cent or more for money on demand. All the bankers' houses in Lombard Street perished in the great fire, and Alderman Backwell, on account of the great importance of the public services he was able to perform, had a special precept from the king to secure him lodgings in Gresham House, where he could carry on business until the rebuilding of the Unicorn. He continued to flourish. Loan after loan he negociated to meet the necessities of , the war with the Dutch, and the fortification of Tangier. He bought houses in Lombard Street and lands in Huntingdonshire, but the bulk of his fortune was in Treasury bonds, for the king owed him a quarter of a million the year after the fire, and nearly 300,000£. in .

There was keen competition among these early bankers, and other "goldsmiths" besides Backwell had dealings with the government. One of the most eminent of his rivals was connected with him by family ties. Tyringham Backwell, his son, married the daughter of Sir Francis Child, who had succeeded Wheeler at the Marygold just within the newly-built archway of Temple Bar. Part of

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the house, indeed, stood on ruins of the Templars' outer courts, and remains of ancient vaultings are said still to exist in the cellars of the bank. For Child's still flourishes, though Temple Bar is gone, and no member of the firm bears the original surname. The mysterious little chamber over the arch, with its many paned windows, one looking up Fleet Street, and one down the Strand, was rented for 50£. a year from the city by the Messrs. Child, just as Chaucer had rented the rooms over in [4] -and was used as a store for old documents. It had been intended for a porter's lodge, and when the Bar was pulled down in , the staircase, long built up, was exposed. High up in the roof, just under the grinning skulls of traitors, was another little closet, approached by a ladder, and perhaps designed as a lock up for the porter's use when disorderly characters disturbed the peace of Fleet Street.

The family had become connected with the Marygold by a double marriage. Sir Joshua Child, an early governor of the East India Company, whose daughter carried an immense fortune into the Somerset family, now represented by his descendant the duke of Beaufort, had a younger brother, [5] apprenticed to William Wheeler. He was mentioned above as keeping 's running cash account, and had first set up as a goldsmith in Cheap, removing to Temple Bar early in the reign of I. The apprentice, according to the time honoured city custom, married his master's daughter, and the apprentice's mother, Mrs. Child, married the master's surviving partner, Robert Blanchard. The business was thus kept in the family, and in Francis Child was sole owner and took John Rayer into the firm as his junior.

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This was not until after a crisis had occurred in the history not only of this, but also of every other London banker of the day. Nearly all were ruined, but Child's and another eminent firm escaped by the same means. In the government of . was so far from representing a majority of the nation that it comprised within the celebrated "Cabal" almost all the eminent men in the kingdom who thought with the king. The Cabal did not dare to call Parliament together. They had obtained a subsidy from the late House of Commons with a view to helping the Dutch against Louis XIV. They had employed it to fit out a fleet and attack the Dutch. In order to carry on this unpopular enterprise further supplies were necessary. But how to obtain more money, without the aid of a Parliament, was a problem no one could solve, until Clifford happened to consult a man much more clever than himself, the celebrated Shaftesbury. He obtained from him by plying him, it was said, with wine till he forgot his prudence, a scheme so effectual, but so iniquitous, that we need not wonder if in a more sober moment he would have kept it to himself. had openly avowed that he would give the white staff of the treasury to any one who could show him where to find a million and a half. Clifford entering the royal presence claimed the staff, and unfolded the Shaftesbury plan. It consisted simply in closing the exchequer and seizing the goldsmiths' deposits.

Of course such an abominable piece of dishonesty must be kept secret. Yet, somehow, it got abroad to a limited extent at least. Among the goldsmiths who had money in the royal exchequer at the time was one who is still represented among city bankers. Messrs. Martin in Lombard Street, are the mercantile descendants

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of Charles Duncombe, who in kept running cashes at his house, the Grasshopper, where a century before Gresham had carried on his extensive operations. The sign was in existence till the houses were first numbered in , and was stolen by a dishonest workman when the old house was rebuilt a little later. The modern bank is on the original an site, and may therefore justly claim to be the oldest commercial establishment left in London. Evelyn notices Duncombe's shrewdness in business not without censure, and Pope, who was born, it might be said, under the shadow of the Grasshopper, has gibbetted him in well known lines as " a scrivenor, or city knight." Shaftesbury was among the depositors in Duncombe's bank, and Child also had influential men among his customers. Both these houses had warning of the impending crash in time to withdraw their money. But the king's principal creditor, Edward Backwell, and many others, knew nothing of it, and were ruined. The money in the exchequer consisted mainly of customers' deposits. When seized upon the whole sum, the goldsmiths could not meet the demands upon them, even though, to repair in some degree the loss they sustained, the king gave them promises of interest at what would now be thought a high rate. We even hear of " runs" upon some banks which were not connected with the royal treasury, and the mere news caused such a panic as has seldom if ever since been seen in the city. The whole sum which thus acquired by the plunder of the citizens, amounted to above thirteen hundred thousand, equal to at least three million sterling in the reckoning of the present day.

Thus did the son of "the man Charles Stuart" walk in the footsteps of his father, and, forgetting London's loyalty to him in his early years, the embassy to Holland,

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the welcome and acclamations on Blackheath, reward the trust reposed in his royal honour. He never made peace with the city, and during the remaining years of his disastrous reign, though a spark of loyalty was towards the end of it rekindled by the rumours of popish plots, and by the king's last illness, he laboured only to humble it more and more. On their side the Londoners intrigued with Shaftesbury against him and his brother, afterwards ., and almost openly communicated with the prince of Orange. The marriage of the princess Mary with was joyfully received " as a Protestant match, and as ensuring a Protestant successor to James." But was still reigning, and James might and did marry again, and have a son. The prospect was gloomy enough. took occasion when the Londoners harboured Shaftesbury to show them signs of his royal displeasure, and as in the case of ancient kings, whose history he might have laid to heart with advantage, he found eminent citizens willing to further his designs on the liberties of the city. We seem to be reading a chapter in the annals of . or . when we find a mayor, Sir John Moore, devoted to the court, and endeavouring to further the king's views by securing the election of at least one of the sheriffs. Ten years had elapsed since the closing of the exchequer, but that arbitrary and dishonourable act was still fresh in the memory of the people. They refused the mayor's nominee by an immense demonstration in favour of the sheriffs they had chosen, Papillon and Dubois. In this they were assisted and supported by the two sheriffs still in office, Pilkington and Shute, and by an alderman, Henry Cornish, whose tragical fate remains to be told. All three were summoned on the complaint of the lord mayor before the Privy Council, and committed to the

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Tower. The Habeas Corpus Act was, however, now in force, and the sheriffs were produced at the bar of the king's bench, and pleading not guilty were admitted to bail by the judges. A fresh election was ordered by the lord mayor, and again his nominee was defeated by the votes of the commonalty. The king and court meanwhile had constantly interfered, and there can have been no doubt in the minds of the people as to the question involved. Papillon and Dubois were by an order in council superseded, and on a new election, Box and North were declared elected. Box, seeing the state of the case, refused to serve, whereupon Rich was substituted for him, and he and North were sworn in before the mayor.[6]  The juries they packed left the life of every citizen who opposed the duke of, or supported the exclusion bills, at the mercy of the court. Shaftesbury saw that, so far as he was concerned, liberty was no longer assured though one jury had acquitted him, and he prudently retired to Holland, but Pilkington and Shute, the late sheriffs, with twelve aldermen, were accused of having spoken against James, or otherwise offended the court party, and were heavily fined, while Pilkington was superseded in his aldermanry by North, the second sheriff.

London was now at the king's mercy, and he used his power as former kings, his ancestors, had used theirs. We are irresistibly reminded by what ensued of Rokesley and ., or, before their time, of FitzThomas and . The mayor and aldermen were summoned to show cause [7]  why their charter was not forfeited because they had printed and published a petition in favour of

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exclusion which the king had refused; because they had made illegal exaction of tolls towards the rebuilding of the city after the fire; because they had scandalised the king's government and oppressed their fellow citizens, and, in short, though the court party avoided saying so, because had determined, in the old phrase, "to take the city into his own hands." The court party were careful to manipulate the bench so as to insure a victory, and the citizens were told to expect the forfeiture of their liberties. They made the long journey to Windsor as FitzThomas and his company had made it four centuries before.[8]  They were received by the king, who, through lord keeper North, explained the situation to them, and in view of the approaching civic elections, offered conditions which were simply subversive of the whole constitution for which their predecessors during so many generations had contended and suffered. But when the king's terms were afterwards debated in the Guildhall, strange as it may appear, an act of submission was carried by a small majority, and the king issued a commission under the great seal, appointing Sir William Pritchard to be mayor during the royal pleasure, and two other members of the court party, Daniel and Dashwood, to be sheriffs. This was the year of the "Rye House Plot," and many citizens were implicated. Lord Russell was beheaded in Lincoln's Inn Fields, and another city favourite, Algernon Sidney, upon Tower Hill, while the infamous judge Jeffreys summoned one after another of the popular leaders before his court, and fined or imprisoned them on the most frivolous charges. Papillon, for having served a writ on the lord mayor two years before, calling on him to declare valid his election to the

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shrievalty, was fined 10,000l., and refusing to pay had to seek safety in flight. He remained in Holland till the revolution.

The death of only precipitated the quarrel between London and the crown. Yet the oppressed citizens, when the king was in danger, knowing that a worse ruler was in store for them, crowded the churches to pray for his recovery, and a feeling sprang up very like the old sentiment of personal loyalty. But it was only in fulfilment of the mocking opinion which had himself expressed to his brother when he said, "They will never kill me, James, to make you king."

Nor were the citizens wrong in their apprehensions. James hardly needed the stimulus of Monmouth's rebellion to make him remember the petitioners of . Had the whig party among the citizens then obtained their wishes he could never have reigned. The sheriff when had refused the civic petition was alderman Cornish, and three of the companions of Jeffreys in the west, their hands still dyed with the blood of the Somerset assizes, came into the city to inflict the king's vengeance. [9]  Cornish was on the Exchange transacting business when he received the fatal summons. His despair, for he must have seen at once that there was nothing to hope for in a consciousness of innocence, in the justice of a packed jury, or in the clemency of James, betrayed no fear, but he behaved, as a witness of his death declared, with the natural indignation of a man murdered under legal forms.

He was arrested on Tuesday, 13th October, , hurried to and kept in solitary confinement, without pens, ink or paper, without any power of communicating with his friends, without counsel, nay, even

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without a knowledge of the nature of the charge against him. His children hastened to Whitehall, but James coldly referred them to the judges. On Saturday the prisoner received a copy of the indictment, and on Monday he was arraigned at the Old Bailey. Two informers appeared against him, both "by their own confession, accomplices in the plot with which they charged the prisoner."[10]  The judges took part with the attorney-general in brow-beating the prisoner. In vain he pleaded that no time had been allowed for the preparation of his defence, and that a material witness was in the country and had not been summoned. He was brutally told that he did not deserve well enough of the government to have time allowed him,[11]  or, in other words, that his fate was sealed before the hearing.

.It may be asked how the government could count on obtaining a verdict from a jury of freemen in a case like this. But it must be remembered that the " city was in the hands of the king," as the ancient chronicles would have said, and that though there was a mayor, and though he had two sheriffs, yet the mayor was a nominee of the king-not, strictly speaking, a mayor at all, but a warden -and the sheriffs staunch members of the court party.[12]  Cornish was found guilty, condemned, and four days later, on Friday the 23rd, he was led to his own door, at the corner of Queen Street in Cheapside,[13]  and put to

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death with the barbarity which then belonged to an ordinary execution for treason. The same day Gaunt was burned at . William Penn, the Quaker, for whom, as Macaulay remarks, exhibitions which humane men generally avoid seem to have had a strong attraction, hurried from the city to St. Marylebone, and witnessed both the executions. The day was marked in the memories of the citizens by a tempest " such as had not been known since that great hurricane which had raged round the death-bed of Oliver."[14] 

There is one house, and one only left in Cheapside which may have seen the death of Henry Cornish. It stands at the corner of Friday Street, and retains its old cross mullioned windows. On its front is a stone carving, the chained swan of ., which may survive from an older house on the same site before the fire. Of King Street and Queen Street as they were then we can form little notion. The scaffoldings were still about many houses. St. Mary-le-Bow was not long finished. The head of the murdered alderman was placed over the newly repaired Guildhall, one of the few decorations of the kind it ever received, and typical of the abject state to which the city was reduced.

But a reaction was at hand. The trial of the bishops showed the temper of the great mass of the citizens, It was judged dangerous to conduct the prisoners through the streets, and they went to the Tower by water, but the people lined the banks of the , and " expressed all the transports that love, compassion, and rage could beget."[15]  Their acquittal was received with the loudest acclamations of joy. This was in June, , and before October James saw that the policy his

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brother and he had pursued towards the city was a mistake. But this conviction came too late to save him. It was in vain that he sent Jeffreys, the chancellor, in state to the Guildhall with the restored charter. No popular enthusiasm could be evoked. The address of thanks was studiously cold, and the news which came a month later, that William of Orange had landed at Torbay, was received with open expressions of thanksgiving. Even a forged proclamation was accepted as the genuine letter of the prince, and was printed and circulated. Riots against the Roman Catholics occurred almost daily, and were so far countenanced by the authorities that the grand jury of brought in a true bill against a nobleman who had abjured Protestantism,[16]  and the houses of those merchants who held to the unpopular faith were searched for arms by the lord mayor. The general suspense and excitement were heightened by rumours of the king's intended flight, and news of the actual departure of the queen and her infant son. On the 11th December, James took the great seal in his hands, drove from Whitehall in a hired coach, hired a boat at Millbank, dropped the seal into the river, landed at Vauxhall, and took the road to Sheerness.

The immediate consequences of the king's flight were momentous to London. Men looked about everywhere in vain for some one whose authority was undoubted. The king's virtual abdication dissolved the whole fabric of society, law, and order. No regency had been appointed. The prince had not arrived.[17]  All eyes were turned towards the venerable body which still retained its ancient powers. The lord mayor reigned in London

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whether a king was at or not.[18]  The lords of the council came into the city and were received in state at the Guildhall by the magistracy. The lieutenant of the Tower brought the keys of that fortress. A conference between the lords, with Archbishop Sancroft in the chair, was followed by a declaration calling upon the prince of Orange to maintain order. The lord mayor and the aldermen sent immediately four of their number with eight commoners, and formally invited William to the city.[19]  A second invitation was despatched the same day. A loan of 200,000£. was speedily gathered, and amid rioting and the tumultuous plunder and destruction of the houses of the Roman Catholics, a petition was circulated and extensively signed, calling upon and to take possession of the vacant throne.

William was determined not to precipitate matters, and called upon the lord mayor to disavow the petition. But it was virtually adopted by the assembled convention, and the accession of the new sovereigns was received in London with frantic signs of joy.[20] 

One of the first cares of the new government was to make a formal restitution of the privileges which under the tyrannies of . and his brother had been for

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a time called in question or withdrawn.[21]  The proceedings in the judgment on the Quo Warranto were reversed and declared illegal by Act of Parliament, and London was restored fully to her ancient rights. Those rights had been defined, or at least recapitulated, by an early charter of ., in which all the older charters were "inspected," and it is upon the statute thus passed under and that London now enjoys the ancient freedom handed down to her by generation after generation of citizens from days long before the Norman Conquest. They had been frequently endangered, and are endangered even now. Sometimes kings like the Angevins and the Stuarts invaded them; sometimes democrats who had little idea of the effects of their own headstrong passions, assailed them from within. To some men's minds it is a sin and a shame that any part of England should enjoy freedom without exact definition. Reformers envy the wealth of the city, and would apply it to many purposes for which it was never intended and in which it would do no good. The energy some agitators display in order to obtain the money which others have earned would, if better directed, make themselves rich.

The citizens watched 's Irish campaign with exceeding interest. The siege of Derry and its relief were of personal importance to many of them: for Londonderry, to give it the full title, was a colony specially sent out by London. The city still has an Ulster estate, and the grant of . to the mayor,

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aldermen and commonalty of the ruins of the ancient Irish fort and of six thousand acres in the neighbourhood is extant. The citizens were slow to take advantage of their new property, and there was a time when it had almost become forfeit. But it seemed doubly precious after the siege, each circumstance of which was recounted with exultation [22]  in the streets of the parent city. But the continental war was of even more importance, and led to consequences of which at the present day we reap the benefit, not in the city only but all over the world. The victories of war are as nothing in comparison with the victories of peace. The battle of Steinkirk and the fall of Namur are mere names to most of us, but we have all heard of the Funds and of the Bank of England. To 's policy we owe these institutions, and to these institutions London owes her supremacy among the commercial cities of the world.

The loan of 200,000£. with which London greeted the new king recalls a similar loan under similar circumstances to ., and betrays, as did the earlier grant, a feeling of confidence in the new dynasty, such as at the present day would be manifested by the state of the funds. But in the public funds had not yet come into existence, and the next step in commercial progress was, so to speak, to formulate or regulate the national debt, by instituting a corporation capable of dealing with it. The establishment of banks, as we have seen, had gone on rapidly during the reigns of the two last Stuarts. The closing of the exchequer, as the event proved, had rather tended to discredit the king

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and his government than the victims of his fraud. Some of the older goldsmiths gave up the contest like Backwell, but others recovered from the blow, and the revolution found them much increased in numbers and in business. had been obliged to ask a loan before the end of his reign, and though it had been declared on the closing of the exchequer that such a step showed that the court had resolved never to borrow again but to take, he obtained it at the moderate interest of eight per cent. This betokens the keenness of the competition among the bankers. The principal was never repaid, but having been made part of the national debt by King , eventually became the nucleus of the South Sea Fund.[23]  The idea of a great national bank seems to have been first started so far back as . Five years failed however to give it definite shape. No mere plan for sustaining credit could have commanded success. Like most great enterprises in England, the eventual foundation of the national bank was owed to private enterprise. William Paterson was in many respects a visionary schemer. He had not only failed as a colonist, but had involved hundreds, if not thousands, of his fellow Scots in the disasters of the emigration to Darien. But in starting the banking scheme he had the good fortune to meet with thoroughly practical partners.[24]  A proposal was laid before the queen in council by which the supplies needed for the use of the king in his foreign campaign, were to be obtained and forwarded without the numerous losses and percentages which sometimes reduced a Parliamentary subsidy one - half before it

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reached the royal treasury. Much opposition to the new scheme was naturally encountered. The Tory party, and especially the Jacobite section of it, foresaw the additional strength an abundant supply of money would confer on the revolutionary government. The usurers, and many who were merely financiers in a better sense, thought the bank would ruin them. The new measure was, however, introduced to the notice of parliament in the spring of .[25]  Paterson was only one of a number of projectors who had laid schemes of the kind before the legislature. The absurdity of some of them, the uselessness of others, the impracticability of the vast majority, caused Paterson's plan to be looked at with deep suspicion.

It was briefly this. A sum amounting to nearly a million and a half was to be borrowed by the government at eight per cent., and the subscribers to the loan were to be incorporated under the title of the Governor and Company of the Bank of England. When a clause had been inserted in the bill to the effect that the new bank was not to advance money to the government without the authority of parliament, it passed, to the great surprise, no doubt, of its framers and supporters, so loud and powerful had the opposition appeared. But at the moment money was in great demand, and no alternative scheme seemed likely to work so well. The opposition was even fiercer in the House of Lords than it had been in the Commons, but at the end of April the royal assent was obtained, and though, as Macaulay remarks, it was then as difficult to raise a million at eight per cent. as it would now be to raise forty times as much at half that rate,[26]  the confidence in the administration, as well as in the scheme itself, was so

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great that in ten days the sum required had been subscribed, and the treasury was actually in possession of it before it became due.

The success of Paterson's scheme does not seem to have enriched him. But he was not a man to whom any amount of money could bring wealth. The working of the plan devolved on Michael Godfrey, a man of a very different type. Although not of middle age, he was already wealthy and known in the city. He was strongly opposed to the Stuarts, and from the mere circumstance that he was a nephew of Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey,[27]  who was supposed to have been murdered fifteen years before by the "Popish Plotters," he attracted public attention and confidence. He obtained leave for the early meetings of the new company to be held at Mercers' Hall in Cheapside, but in October of the same year, , he, in conjunction with ten other members of the company, signed an agreement by which Grocers' Hall in the Poultry was taken for eleven years, and here, the term having been renewed, the new society carried on business until .[28]  The first governor of the Bank of England was Sir John Houblon, to whose good offices, no doubt, the arrangement was due. "Here, in one room, with almost primitive simplicity, were gathered all who performed the duties of the establishment."[29]  The secretaries and their clerks numbered only fifty-four.

It may be worth while to pause a moment to compare the condition of the Bank of England at the present day with the modest establishment here described. It now

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employs 900 officers of various grades. Its notes in circulation approach a value of twenty millions. From fifteen to twenty millions are deposited in gold and silver in its vaults. About two million sterling crosses its counters every day. The buildings cover the whole area of the church and churchyard of St. Christopher le Stocks, and indeed all the parish itself except a small portion on which the portico of the Royal Exchange is built, as well as large parts of the two adjacent parishes of St. Margaret Lothbury, and St. Bartholomew by the Exchange. For managing the payment of the interest on the National Debt the company receives 200,000£. a year. Such has been the growth of the single office opened in the Grocers' Hall in .

Godfrey, who rather than Paterson must be considered the founder of the bank, and who possessed the pen of a clear and ready writer, defended the infant undertaking with success in a pamphlet [30]  published in the following year, in which he set forth its great advantages, and justified his own reputation for foresight and prudence. As deputy governor he seems to have been practically manager of the whole concern, which, as he exultingly asserted, gave such a reputation to the government engagements-known as exchequer tallies-that they were currently taken by private persons at ten to fifteen per cent. less than before the establishment of the bank, "that it was the only fund ever settled in England that had lowered the interest of money"; and that notwithstanding the cost of the great war then raging, amounting on the part of England alone to thirty millions at least, the interest on the national debt had fallen.

When Michael Godfrey alluded to the war he little

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thought he should himself be one of its victims. . was engaged at the siege of Namur in , not a year after the Bank of England had removed to Grocers' Hall. London was kept in a state of constant distraction by a succession of rumours.[31]  The fate of nations, it was known but too well, depended on success or failure. The malice of the Jacobites warmly seconded the cupidity of the stock jobbers. The king's death was eagerly discounted. Sometimes a mere whisper went abroad; sometimes a messenger on horseback dressed in a military uniform galloped through the streets and spread dismay with the news that had been killed. But it was observed during the whole time of this anxious siege that the simple test of a bet showed even the Jacobites to be believers in 's success. Before it came, however, Michael Godfrey had been sent to Namur to the king's camp to make some arrangements for the transmission of the soldiers' pay and other supplies. The great attack of the 17th July was actually going forward, and Godfrey's curiosity overcame his prudence. He ventured to the king's side amid a shower of bullets. saw him with surprise and anger. " Mr. Godfrey, you ought not to run these hazards: you are not a soldier: you can be of no use to us here." Godfrey protested that he ran no greater danger than did his majesty. "Not so," said , " I am where it is my duty to be; and I may without presumption commit my life to God's keeping." As he spoke Michael Godfrey fell dead at his feet, slain by a French cannon ball. His body was brought over to London and buried in St. Swithin's church, where his epitaph describes him as " a batchelour much lamented by all his friends." His "sorrowful mother"

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raised the monument to "the pious memory of her beloved son."[32] 

The rivalry between the old goldsmiths' houses and the new institution was, of course, very keen, and might possibly have proved eventually fatal to the Bank of England. In fact, the enterprise was not three years old when it actually stopped payment.[33]  The recoinage of silver prevented the company from meeting their notes in cash: they had received worn and clipped coin at its nominal value, and had to pay in full. By various expedients, however, they managed to protract the periods of payment, to gather in debts, and to call upon shareholders, till things righted themselves. The bank deserved well of the country at large, and various concessions were made by government, so that public confidence was immediately renewed. It was common to speak contemptuously, but shares went up, and bank stock rose from a discount of fifty per cent. to a premium of one hundred and twenty. In vain the private banks dashed themselves against the new corporation. They only rendered its position firmer. It lowered the interest of money, as poor Michael Godfrey had prophesied, and thus at once earned the gratitude of the public and the hatred of the bankers. Runs were constantly organised, and every device practised that could discredit it. It was said that both the Childs and the

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Hoares purposely gathered large parcels of bank bills to present at once, but they had no success. The great war of queen Anne's reign did but make it more prosperous, and at the same time more necessary to the state. In the most dangerous run took place; but public confidence had now returned, and many private persons came forward with help. Godolphin, then lord treasurer, offered it various kinds of indulgence. Three wealthy dukes, including the cautious Marlborough, lodged large sums, and the crisis rapidly passed away. An anecdote shows the public temper at this momentous period. A poor man who had but 500£. in the world carried it to the bank when the run commenced. "Good Queen Anne" heard of him, and sent him 100£. as a present, and an obligation on the treasury for the whole of his venture.

The further history of the Bank of England is that of England itself. By slow degrees it has risen to such a position that its proud title does not fully describe it. The whole world comes to its coffers, and its name has passed into a common proverb as the emblem of stability. The old building has been enlarged over and over again. The modest house of Sir John Houblon in Threadneedle Street, where its first building was erected, would not now accommodate a tenth part of the business. In one of its courts stands a statue, dedicated in , to the memory of " the best of princes, ., the founder of this bank."

It would be easy to occupy all the remainder of my space with particulars of the old goldsmiths and their successors. The revolution in politics did not more thoroughly alter the character of the government than the establishment of banking altered the tendency and tone of London business. Before a century had elapsed

414

from the foundation of the Bank of England, the city had become what we know it, a place not so much for residence as for commerce. It is now a vast honeycomb of offices. The sight of a little child in " the city " is as rare as that of a butterfly. People come in and go out: few stay the night. Here and there a tradesman lives over his place of business, as in the good old times, but he must be very poor or very peculiar if he has no villa in the country whither he can retire in the intervals of work. A hundred years ago, however, many citizens still lived on their business premises. When lord Westmorland, on a memorable occasion, dined with Robert Child it was in the banking-house in Fleet Street. This was the lord Westmorland who, being in love with Child's only daughter, Mary Anne, and knowing that the banker was far too well acquainted with the financial condition of the Fane family ever to consent to their union, asked him across the table what he should do if he was attached to a girl whose father opposed the match. "Why, run away with her, to be sure," was the banker's incautious reply. Lord Westmorland and Miss Mary Anne took him at his word. They eloped, but were hotly pursued by the indignant father. Mr. Child had the best horses and gained on the fugitives. But the earl was a good shot, and kneeling upon the seat he fired a pistol over the back of the carriage. The bullet took effect, and one of the banker's horses rolled over on the road.[34]  By this very questionable maneuvre the fugitives succeeded in reaching Gretna Green, but Mr. Child never forgave them, though, as his death occurred within three months afterwards, and as he left everything to the eldest child named Sarah, after his wife,

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that should be born of the marriage, it cannot be said that he was likely to have remained long obdurate. As it was the Fanes did not profit very largely by the fortune of the banker's heiress. Lest the legacy should lapse, it is said that each of the children of lord and lady Westmorland was baptised by the name of Sarah, including the only son, but the eldest daughter survived to marry lord Jersey, and her grandson is the present head of the firm in Fleet Street.

The story of the South Sea Bubble has been often told. It is only the first and greatest of a long list of similar examples. Wild speculation, followed by deep depression, has ebbed and flowed in the city almost as regularly as the tide in the . The year was memorable for the Mississippi Bubble in , as well as for the South Sea delusion at home. The success of the Bank of England excited the imagination of schemers. Knaves were only too ready to take up any design that would impose for a time on fools. But the South Sea scheme differed from the countless bubbles of the day in attracting many who must be allowed to have had at least common sense., indeed, stood aloof. When the South Sea Company offered, in exchange for trading concessions, to relieve public burdens to the extent of nearly a million a year, he warned the country against indulging in a dream.[35]  But every one else went mad. The king himself and his ministers partook of the general excitement. Threadneedle Street, where the South Sea House was situated, sometimes became impassable with crowds from the other end of town, all thronging to invest. Stock at one time rose to 1100£. per cent. premium. It may be asked in what trade the company proposed to engage.

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This is one of the disgraceful features of the story. The ostensible object of the company was to rival, and if possible out-do Spain in the abominable slave trade. The South Sea was that part of the Atlantic Ocean which lies between the Brazils and Western Africa. The coffee houses in Exchange Alley near the chief scene were filled daily with speculators.[36]  Prior and Gay, the poets, staked and lost heavily. The duke of Chandos spent 300,000£. of which nothing returned to him. At last, in November, the bubble burst, when the crash actually brought down the ministry. Stanhope died of it, as did Craggs, the secretary of state. His father, who was postmaster-general, poisoned himself. These were only a few of the victims. Ruin fell upon thousands of innocent persons, and probably no event since the great fire caused such widespread misfortune. The South Sea stock itself was only one of many. There were companies for making butter from beech trees; for teaching wise men to calculate nativities; for casting cannon balls; for the discovery of perpetual motion; nay, incredible as may it seem, these were among the saner projects. A subscription of two millions was started for "a promising design to be hereafter promulgated," and another for "carrying on an undertaking of great advantage, but nobody to know what it is." Even this insolent attempt on the credulity of speculators succeeded. In five hours 2000£. were deposited, and the ingenious author of the proposal disappeared and was heard of no more.[37]  At this conjuncture and the Bank of England concerted measures which, wild as they seem now, were

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nothing to what had been proposed and almost carried. But though they led to a run on the bank they saved the national credit. The rising of affected the welfare of the bank for the moment much more heavily: but, with the proverbial want of political sagacity which characterised the Stuarts, threats of confiscation, of repudiation, and of forced loans and contributions alarmed the city, and though the funds fell to 49, and a run was, as usual, made on the bank, it " literally faced its creditors:" the citizens came forward promptly, and as the danger passed away the bank was more firmly fixed than ever in the confidence of the people, and has never since had to sustain the effects of a similar panic." [38] 

 
 
Footnotes:

[1] Macaulay, ' History of England, from the accession of James II.'

[2] F. G. Hilton Price's ' Handbook of London Bankers,' p. 60, and the reprint of the' London Directory' of 1677. Mr. Price's paper on " Edward Backwell," read before the London and Middlesex Archaeological Society, throws much light on the commercial history of London in this reign.

[3] The book in which the Protector's account was entered has been lost; but many of Messrs. Wheeler's ledgers are in possession of the present firm of Child and Co., on the same site.

[4] Riley, 'Memorials,' p. 377.

[5] This is not quite certain. See Price.

[6] The proceedings are minutely detailed by Maitland and Allen.

[7] The writ of summons was popularly known from this sentence as the Quo warranto.

[8] This was 1683, so that FitzThomas's imprisonment took place 418 years previously.

[9] Macaulay, chap. v.

[10] Macaulay, chap. v.

[11] Maitland, i. 484.

[12] The mayor's name was Smith. Gosling and Vandeput were the sheriffs, but it does not appear which of them packed the jury.

[13] Maitland says "at the end of King Street, facing his own house." This expression denotes as his a house at the opposite corner, namely, in Queen Street, formerly " Soper's Lane." Macaulay remarks that the spot is equally in sight of the Exchange and the Guildhall. It is so now, but probably in 1685 only the Guildhall could be seen from the corner of King Street.

[14] Macaulay

[15] Maitland, i. 485.

[16] Macaulay, chap. ix. The earl of Salisbury.

[17] Macaulay, chap. x.

[18] It will be remembered that in those days the " demise of the crown," not only dissolved parliament, but put an end to the commissions of the judges. The mayoralty, almost alone among English institutions of the kind, was unaffected by James's virtual abdication. Even the churches staggered under the blow, and Sancroft himself felt its weight within a few months. (See vol. ii., 'Lambeth.')

[19] Maitland, i. 488.

[20] It is, of course, easy to make too much of the election of William by the city, but perhaps Lord Macaulay makes too little of it, and has not done justice to its constitutional significance. He mentions the Guildhall very casually, and places the action of the civic authorities in a subordinate place. (See above, chap. iii. and Freeman's 'Norman Conquest,' v. 411.) But several kings had ascended the English throne after a less formal election by the city of London.

[21] 'Municipal London,' by Joseph Firth, p. 19. I shall have occasion further on to notice once again this portly volume. Here it will be sufficient to observe that the facts collected by Mr. Firth are treated with such an amount of bitter party feeling that their value is greatly lost, and their real significance obscured.

[22] One London firm, Clavel and Simpson, St. Paul's Churchyard, published in 1689 ' Walker's Account,' as well as 'A new and exact map of London-derry and Culmore Fort, drawn with great Exactness by Captain Macullach, who was there during the siege.'

[23] Francis, 'History of the Bank of England,' i. 35.

[24] The account of Paterson in Francis does not show his connection with the Bank of England in a clear light. It seems to assume more knowledge of the subject than most readers possess.

[25] Macaulay, chap. xx.

[26] Macaulay, chap. xx.

[27] Macaulay, by a mistake, calls him " the brother of Sir Edmondsbury Godfrey," vol. ii. p. 483, ed. 1873.

[28] See Heath's 'Grocers' Company,' p. 31. This hall, becoming ruinous, was rebuilt in 1802.

[29] Francis, i. 65.

[30] Reprinted in the second volume of Francis's 'History of the Bank.'

[31] Macaulay, chap. xxi.

[32] He was the son of another Michael, the brother of Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey, whence Macaulay's mistake. (See ' Arch. Cantiana,' vi. 261.) His mother was Mary the daughter of Thomas Chambrelan of Leadenhall Street. As he was born in February, 1658, he was still a young man. The verses on his monument have disappeared, and are not worth reprinting from Maitland ii., 1184, though they contain a charming non sequitur.

[33] The account of this event in Francis, i. 75, is so wanting in clearness that a reader must conclude he desired to gloss over the whole story-and he perfectly succeeded.

[34] Mr. Heywood Hardy's picture of this scene is well known. It was just a century ago, for the marriage took place in 1782.

[35] Green, iv. 136.

[36] A well-known picture by E. M. Ward, R.A., truthfully represents the scene in Change Alley as it appeared in 1720.

[37] Francis, 'History of the Bank,' i. 135.

[38] Francis, i, 163.