CHAPTER XXVIII.
Richmond Park restored to Charles II, 2 June, 1660.
On the afternoon of Saturday, the 2nd June (1660), the mayor and aldermen, accompanied by the Recorder, waited upon the king to congratulate him on his return and to restore to him Richmond Park, according to a resolution of the Common Council.[1179] Speaking on behalf of the City, the Recorder expressly declared that it was done by way of restitution and not as a gift. He assured the king that it was well that the park had been in the City's hands, for they had preserved the wood, vert and game. Not to be outdone in courtesy the king replied that "the city of London were still loading him with their kindness, and that he looked upon the said park to be kept for him, and that he accepted it not as restored, but as freely given unto him by the city, and thanked them for the same."[1180]
The citizens take the oath of allegiance and supremacy.
The early days of June were busy days for lord mayor Aleyne, to whose house the citizens flocked in order to signify their acceptance of his majesty's offer of pardon.[1181] On the 5th June the mayor himself and those aldermen who were not barred by the Statute of Indemnity and Oblivion (12 Charles II, c. 11), subscribed a declaration of pardon, whilst members of the Common Council took the oaths of supremacy and allegiance[pg 382] pursuant to the king's orders.[1182] Later on the master and wardens of the livery companies, the presidents of the hospitals, the president and governors of the Irish Society, as well as the governors of the Merchant Adventurers and other trading companies, were called upon to do the like.[1183]
Sir John Weld restored to office of town clerk.
Sir John Weld, who had been dismissed in 1642 from the office of town clerk[1184] for failing to attend the Common Council, a duty which he was rendered incapable of fulfilling owing to his having been appointed at that time high-sheriff of Shropshire, seized the opportunity of presenting a petition to the court of Common Council (5 June) to be re-instated in office. A committee to whom the matter was referred reported to the council that they found that it had been by special command of the late king that Weld had been prevented carrying out his duties, and recommended that he should now be restored. The court, however, seemed loth to re-instate him, and it was not until after the receipt of a letter from secretary Nicholas and a writ of restitution had been issued that it consented (21 Sept.) to re-admit him to office, and then only by deputy.[1185]
Sadler, town clerk, removed.
John Sadler, who held the office of town clerk at the time, was promptly got rid of on a charge of having given judgment in "a late pretended court of justice," and of having signed the death-warrant of[pg 383] Christopher Love, a zealous Presbyterian and minister of the church of St. Lawrence, Jewry, who had been accused of treason in 1651 and beheaded on Tower Hill in the midst of ominous thunderings and clouds of darkness.[1186]
The deposed aldermen restored pursuant to the king's wishes, 4 Sept., 1660.
On the 4th September the king wrote to the City stating that as by the passing of the Act of Indemnity many of the aldermen were rendered incapable of continuing in office, it was his wish that their places should be filled by restoring those aldermen who had in times past been removed for their allegiance to him. As many of the latter had submitted to pay fines rather than continue in office against their conscience, he further recommended that these fines should be returned to them.[1187] Pursuant to the king's wishes, the Common Council formally declared "that Sir Thomas Adams, Sir Abraham Reynardson, Sir Thomas Soame, Sir John Langham, Sir James Bunce and Sir Richard Browne are aldermen of this city," and called upon them to take upon themselves the execution of their respective places.[1188]
Langham excused on his own petition.
One of these, Sir John Langham, then in his seventy-eighth year, wrote from Crosby House to the Court of Aldermen asking to be excused on the score of his advanced age. He had been, he said, laid aside about twelve years since and imprisoned in the Tower[pg 384] by order of parliament[1189] (24 Sept., 1647), chiefly to prevent his being chosen lord mayor, and had been released on the following 6th June without any effort being made on his part. He had afterwards (7 April, 1649) been removed from office with Sir John Gayer, Alderman Adams and "brother" Bunce by resolution of "that remain of a House of Commons that presumed to sit as a parliament," and others had been chosen in their stead.[1190] The Court of Aldermen acceded to the veteran's request[1191]
Reynardson re-elected mayor, but declines office, 1 Oct., 1660.
At Michaelmas the citizens would again have placed the royalist Reynardson in the mayoralty chair, but he excused himself on the ground of ill-health,[1192] and the gallant Alderman Sir Richard Browne was elected in his stead. A twelvemonth later Reynardson was dead, having passed away on the 4th October, 1661.
The king and parliament entertained in the city, 5 July.
In the meantime (5 July) the king and parliament had been entertained at dinner by the City with great magnificence. The day was unfortunately rainy, and Pepys, who seems never to have quite forgotten that he was the son of a tailor, and never put on a new suit of clothes without recording the fact in his diary, remarks that the rain that day "spoiled many a fine suit of clothes." The entertainment on this occasion took place at the Guildhall instead of at the hall of one of the great city companies. The mayor took the opportunity in the course of the dinner to present[pg 385] the king with a "welcome cupp according to the usuall custome," as a token of loyalty and duty. On the following day the members of the Common Council and the masters and wardens of those companies which had advanced money to defray the cost of the entertainment dined together in the hall, when there was "the same musicke as was the day before at the entertainment of his majesty."[1193]
Sir Richard Browne major-general of the city's forces, vice Monk resigned, 6 July, 1660.
When the Entertainment Committee waited on his majesty to thank him for his condescension in accepting the City's entertainment and to crave his pardon for whatever had gone amiss, they took the opportunity of satisfying him on certain matters—viz., the repair of St. Paul's and the building a drawbridge on London bridge—about which his majesty desired to be informed. They at the same time reported the City's choice of Sir Richard Browne to be major-general of the City's forces in the place of Monk, recently created Duke of Albemarle, who had been obliged to resign his commission "by reason of the multiplicity of affairs in his majesty's service."[1194]
Demand of a loan of £100,000, 14 Aug.
On the 14th August a deputation from the Lords and Commons attended a court of Common Council and desired a loan of £100,000 on the security of the poll tax. The court declined to commit itself to any promise. It was much dissatisfied, and more especially with the inequality of the poll tax; it therefore preferred submitting the matter to a committee for investigation before giving an answer.[1195] A committee was then and there nominated to consider the question.
By October matters were so pressing that Charles himself wrote to the City, insisting upon the money being advanced within ten days upon the security of the Act for two months' assessment about to be levied on the whole kingdom, and out of which he solemnly promised, "on the word of a king," that the loan, both principal and interest, should be repaid before any other disbursements were made. The money was wanted for the purpose, he said, of disbanding the army.[1196]
The city companies' petition touching their Irish estates, Sept.
The king's gracious reply, Oct., 1660.
Notwithstanding this pecuniary difficulty and the existence of certain grievances of which the City complained, more especially the abolition of the Court of Wards,[1197] for which the king was to receive another £100,000 by way of compensation, the good relationship between Charles and the City still continued; so that when a deputation waited on him with a petition from the livery companies relative to their Irish estates, the following gracious reply was given:—"That his majesty would perform what his father had promised and more, and that his majesty would deny the city nothing; that his majesty found they dealt honestly with him, and his majesty would deny them nothing."[1198]
Outbreak of fanatics or Fifth Monarchy men. 6 Jan., 1661.
Thus far all had gone well with Charles. Within a month of his first letters from Breda he had recovered his father's throne without shedding one drop of blood. Of his enemies the more powerful were either in prison or had fled the country, whilst others had paid the penalty for their implication in the death of the late king with their own heads.[pg 387] Danger, however, lurked where least expected. A small band of fanatics known by the name of Fifth Monarchy men, who believed in the immediate coming of Christ upon earth to rule the world, were in the habit of holding meetings in Coleman Street. On Sunday, the 6th January, 1661, excited by a harangue uttered by their leader, a wine-cooper named Venner, they broke out, and with arms in their hands hurried to St. Paul's. There they posted sentries, and demanded of passers-by whom were they for? Upon one of them replying that he was for King Charles, he was at once shot by the fanatics, who cried out that they were for King Jesus. Luckily the city was at the time in the hands of that staunch soldier Sir Richard Browne. Upon his appearance on the scene with an armed force the rioters retreated to Highgate, but not before they had killed at least half-a-dozen men. During the next two days the streets were strongly patrolled; travellers abroad were strictly examined as to the nature of their business before being allowed to pass on their way, and suspected persons were disarmed and compelled to take the oaths of allegiance and supremacy.[1199] Every moment the return of the rioters was expected, but Monday and Tuesday passed and none appeared. One of their meeting houses (probably that in Coleman Street) was ordered to be pulled down. At six o'clock on Wednesday morning the inhabitants were aroused by hearing again the cry of the fanatics, "The King Jesus and their heads upon the gates," as they madly attacked the king's life guards. Their whole[pg 388] number, it is said, did not amount to much more than thirty, of whom twenty were killed, whilst Venner and nearly all the rest were made prisoners. When questioned the prisoners one and all refused to make any confession, saying that they would not betray the servants of the Lord Jesus.[1200] Ten days later they expiated their crime on the scaffold, and the lord mayor, having received orders to seize all suspected persons in the city, proceeded to imprison a number of Quakers. These he kept in confinement until the following March, when all fear of further disturbance having passed away, they were discharged.[1201]
Vote of thanks to mayor and sheriffs for stopping outbreak, 25 Jan., 1661.
The Common Council passed a vote of thanks (25 Jan.) to the lord mayor and sheriffs for their vigilant conduct during the outbreak,[1202] and appointed a deputation to wait on his majesty to know his pleasure as to when a day of public thanksgiving should be kept for its timely suppression. It also appointed a committee (28 Jan.) to enquire as to the number killed and the best means of raising money for the relief of their widows and children.[1203]
A loan for paying off the navy, 11 March.
Having successfully paid off and disbanded the army,[1204] the king turned his attention to paying off the[pg 389] navy, for which purpose he sent a deputation from the Privy Council to the City (11 March) with a letter asking for a speedy loan of £100,000. The city fathers at once took steps to raise the money in the several wards, and any able inhabitant refusing to subscribe was ordered to be reported to the lord mayor; but three days later the king again wrote saying that, as money was coming in from the country quicker than had been anticipated, the loan would not be required.[1205]
Another loan, 9 April, 1661.
A month had scarcely passed before the Duke of Albemarle, the Earl of Manchester, the Earl of Sandwich, Viscount Valentia, Denzill Holles, and Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper appeared before the court of Common Council (9 April) with a letter from the king asking for another loan of £60,000. As the City was anxious to have its rights and liberties ratified and confirmed by a new charter, it did wisely in giving an unanimous assent to this demand, more especially as the loan was to be made upon parliamentary security.[1206]
Preparations for the coronation.
The City had other expenses to meet. The day fixed for the king's coronation (23 April) was drawing near, and preparations had been going on since February.[1207] The sum of £6,000 had already been spent in "preparing ornaments for his majesty's[pg 390] passage through the city to his coronation," and £3,000 more was wanted. The money was immediately voted.[1208] On the 1st April the Court of Aldermen nominated twelve citizens to assist the chief butler on the day of the coronation,[1209] whilst the court of Common Council voted a sum of £1,000 in gold as a gift to be made by the City to the king on that occasion.[1210]
Alderman Vyner commissioned to provide new regalia for the occasion.
The old regalia having been dispersed, broken up or lost after the death of Charles I, a commission was given to Sir Robert Vyner, alderman of the city and the king's goldsmith, to make a new set for the coronation of Charles II. This was accordingly done, care being taken to follow the old patterns as far as possible. The new regalia comprised two crowns, three sceptres, an orb, a mace and a quantity of collars, Georges and garters for the order of St. George. Vyner also supplied the king with plate for new year's gifts and for his majesty's own use, the entire cost amounting to over £30,000.[1211]
Procession from the Tower to Whitehall, 22 April. 1661.
On the day before the ceremony (22 April) Charles set out from the Tower to Whitehall. The procession was one of exceptional splendour as it passed through the streets new gravelled for the occasion.[1212][pg 391] A special gallery was erected in Cheapside for the city aldermen, as well as a triumphal arch.[1213] Pepys, who dearly loved a gala day as affording him an excuse for putting on new finery, was lost in admiration at the sight which presented itself to his eyes as he viewed the procession from the windows of "Mr. Young's, the flagmaker," in Cornhill, and declared it to be "impossible to relate the glory of this day, expressed in the clothes of them that rid and their horses and horse-clothes." The mayor himself was provided with a crimson velvet gown for the occasion.[1214]
Coronation day, 23 April.
Accident to a former City Recorder.
The coronation ceremony was carried out the next day with all the customary formalities, and the evening was given up to bonfires and fireworks, not to mention also a considerable amount of tippling. Even Pepys himself was obliged to confess that he got to his bed only "pretty well." There was but one accident worth mentioning during the entire day. Sergeant Glyn, who had formerly been the City's Recorder, and had afterwards been raised to the Bench, was nearly killed by his horse falling on him whilst riding in the cavalcade with Maynard, another eminent lawyer. Had they both been killed the populace (we are told) would have only looked upon it as a judgment of a just God for their action under the Commonwealth.[1215]
The meeting of the Cavalier Parliament, 8 May, 1661.
Meanwhile the Convention Parliament had been dissolved and a new one summoned to meet in May (1661). When the elections took place there was a hot contest in the city between Presbyterians and[pg 392] Episcopalians, resulting in the discomfiture of the latter, "who went away cursing and swearing and wishing they had never come."[1216] One writer describes the election as having been "the greatest appearance that ever the oldest men alive saw."[1217] Great efforts were made to obtain the re-election of those who had served the city in the last parliament.[1218] Unfortunately their names are not known to us with any certainty. The successful candidates consisted of three aldermen, viz., William Thompson, William Love and John Fowke and Captain John Jones. Thompson and Love are described as "godly men and of good parts, Congregationalists," Captain Jones as "a Presbyterian man," and Fowke as one "not much noted for religion, but a countenancer of good ministers," and as "deeply engaged in Bishop's lands."[1219] Pepys,[1220] who lived in the heart of the city, was himself surprised at the "strange election," and at the discomfiture of the Episcopalian party, "that thought themselves so strong. It do so make people to feare it may come to worse by being an example to the country to do the same. And, indeed, the bishops are so high that very few do love them."
The City an example to the rest of the country.
Others besides Pepys recognised the effect likely to be produced in the country by the example set by London; and those who, unlike Pepys, were of a[pg 393] Presbyterian turn of mind freely expressed their hopes that the keynote of the election struck by the City would be taken up by the country at large. "God has overruled the hearts of men and heard the prayers of his people in the city election, though the Episcopals were high and thought to have the day; a precedent is given to the whole country," writes a contemporary to a friend.[1221] "The city of London has set a good example," writes another.[1222] Another expresses a hope that "other places will be encouraged by the example of this to choose sober and moderate men for parliament men"; whilst another declares "the city was very unanimous and courageous in its choice," and that "if the country do the same, profaneness and superstition will no longer prevail, but Godly magistrates and ministers be settled in every place."[1223]
The court party afraid.
Letters intercepted at the post office.
That the court party were afraid of the effect that the result of the city election would have upon the rest of the kingdom, where elections were still going on, is evidenced by the fact that these letters just cited, as well as numerous others despatched to various parts of the country with details of the election, were intercepted at the post office.[1224] Neither the hopes of the one party nor the fears of the other as to the effect of the City's choice of members upon others were destined to be realised to the extent anticipated. The electors proved loyal, and the[pg 394] members returned to the new parliament which met on the 8th May were for the most part too young to remember the tyranny of the Stuarts.
The Corporation Act, 1661.
The new parliament agreed that neither House could claim the command of the militia nor lawfully make war upon the king. Act after Act was passed against those who refused to conform to the Established Church. Before the close of the year (1661) the Corporation Act received the assent of both Houses.[1225] Thenceforth no one was to be allowed to hold any municipal office unless he renounced the covenant, took the oath of non-resistance, and received the Sacrament according to the rites of the Church of England. By thus excluding Nonconformists (or "Dissenters," as they began now to be called) from municipal corporation, parliament indirectly excluded them from seats in the House of Commons.
Petition for confirmation of City's charter, 9 July, 1661.
On the 9th July the Common Council approved of the presentation of a petition to the king for a confirmation of the City's charter.[1226] The time was not inopportune, inasmuch as a "free and voluntary present" to Charles had recently been set on foot,[1227] and the maxim of do ut des was one well understood between the City and the Crown. It is not surprising, therefore, that on the 17th an Order in Council was[pg 395] passed to the effect that the lord treasurer should assure the City that his majesty was highly sensible of their loyalty and affection, and would renew their charter with additions if desired and found fit.[1228] The lord chancellor happening to be in the city one day (8 Aug.) on the business of the "free and voluntary present," the civic authorities embraced the opportunity of urging him to press their suit with the king, whereupon "it pleased my lord chancellor to express much affection and forwardness to this great concernment of the city," and he promised to see the king on the matter that same evening, and to get the attorney-general, who was about to leave town, to defer his journey if the City would at once forward its old charter to Mr. Attorney for the purpose of renewal. This the Common Council readily agreed to do.[1229] In spite, however, of the exertions of the lord chancellor and of the City, no renewal of the charter of Charles I was obtained until nearly two years had elapsed.
The mayor and aldermen attend the king touching renewal of charter, Oct., 1661.
In October the mayor, aldermen and recorder attended his majesty in council, by request, when Charles repeated the promise made in his letter from Breda not to diminish or alter the rights of the City; but at the same time he informed them of his intention to make one exception, pro hac vice, by removing four or five of the aldermen who had been "faulty in the late troubles," and of putting others "of known worth and ability" in their places. He promised also to safeguard the City's interest in the Act then pending in parliament relative to corporations.[1230] The City[pg 396] could not do otherwise than submit,[1231] and the king carried out his threat. The commissioners who had been appointed under the Great Seal to "regulate" the Corporation removed at least two of the aldermen, viz., Tempest Miller, of Candlewick ward, and William Love, of Portsoken, who had recently been elected one of the city's representatives in parliament, their places being filled up by Sir Thomas Rich and Sir Thomas Bludworth, the king's own nominees.[1232]
Fear of more disturbance by Presbyterians and fanatics, Sept., 1661.
Pending the negotiations for a renewal of the City's charter, the Presbyterians of the city and their ultra-radical brethren the Fifth Monarchy men again caused disquietude. The latter had been "scotched not killed" after Venner's outbreak: "they are as bold in their meetings as before Venner's plot; Fifth Monarchy men preach and visit with Presbyterians, and encourage the people to withstand the common prayer and the oppression and idolatry of the court."[1233] The mayor had recently succeeded in breaking up a meeting and capturing ten men and thirty women, whom he lodged in Newgate. When remonstrated with they told the mayor that they had met to serve God, and when told that he best served God who obeyed the king, replied that they were not bound to obey him when the Spirit commanded the contrary.[1234] It was reported that there were no less[pg 397] than 3,000 men about the city maintained by Presbyterian ministers.[1235] The danger was increased by the large number of cashiered officers and soldiers who frequented the city.[1236] The king became anxious and wrote to the lord mayor (24 Oct.) complaining of the want of care and vigilance in setting the night watches, which consisted chiefly of feeble men unable to suppress such disorders as were likely to arise in those seditious times, and who broke up their watch some hours before daybreak, thereby giving encouragement to thieves and robbers. He therefore desired that the number of men should be increased, that only able men should be appointed, and that the watch should continue until daybreak.[1237]
Election of Sir John Frederick, mayor, 29 Sept., 1661.
On Michaelmas-day Sir Richard Browne was succeeded in the mayoralty chair by Sir John Frederick.[1238] The banquet of the mayor and sheriffs, which had been allowed to drop in the time of trouble and scarceness, was again held at the Guildhall,[1239] and the new mayor revived the ancient custom of visiting St. Paul's on the day of his taking the oath of office, and offering a prayer for the soul of the good bishop by whose kind offices the citizens obtained their first charter from the Conqueror.[1240] Charles did not attend[pg 398] the banquet which took place on the 29th October, but viewed the pageants on lord mayor's day from the windows of a private house in Cheapside, where he was supplied with refreshments at the City's charge.[1241]
Letter from the king touching election of Common Council, 13 Dec., 1661.
When St. Thomas's day [21 Dec]—the day for the election of a new Common Council—was approaching, the king took occasion himself to write to the Court of Aldermen warning them to "take special care and give strict orders in your several wards that a peaceable and quiet election be made, and that the choice be of such persons as are every way well affected to the established Government, both in Church and State"—otherwise he would be forced to make a change in such elections.[1242]
Order for expurgation of city's records. 26 Feb., 1662.
That the new council was favourable to the king is shown by the court passing a resolution (26 Feb., 1662) for expunging out of the city's records all acts, orders and other matters passed, made or registered either in the court of Common Council or the Court of Aldermen since the beginning of the late troubles "which savour of the disloyalty of those times and may continue the sad remembrance of them to posterity to the reproach and dishonour of this city."[1243] This resolution was made on the king's own suggestions, but although a committee was at once appointed to carry it out, it remained a dead letter for twenty years.
Demand of a loan of £200,000, 7 Feb., 1662.
The Common Council had previously (7 Feb.) shown its compliance by acceding to a demand for a loan of £200,000.[1244] But although the security offered was undeniably good, and every effort was made to get the inhabitants of the city to subscribe, no more than £60,000 or £61,000 at the most was collected by the 14th March,[1245] and a month later scarcely £100,000 had been subscribed. The king made no attempt to disguise his annoyance, and ordered the mayor to call a Common Council and request them to take steps for the collection of the whole sum.[1246]
City gift to Queen Catharine, 3 June, 1662.
According to Pepys, who got his information from a city alderman, the finances of the Corporation were at such a low ebb that considerable difficulty was experienced in raising so small a sum as 1,000 gold pieces and the price of a gold cup to be presented to Catharine of Braganza on her arrival in England "and that they were fain to call two or three aldermen to raise fines to make up the amount."[1247]
The Hearth or Chimney tax, 1662.
Whilst the civic authorities were vainly struggling to raise the last loan for the king, the House of Commons came to his assistance and voted him a tax of two shillings upon every chimney.[1248] The inquisitorial nature of the tax made it very offensive.[pg 400] Returns were to be made of the number of hearths and stoves in each dwelling by the end of May. As they did not come in as quickly as was desired an extension of time was granted until Midsummer Assizes.[1249] Even when sent in many of the returns were manifestly untrue. The returns made for the city of London and Bills of Mortality drew forth a remonstrance from Charles, who refused to attribute it to anything else but gross negligence or deceit.[1250] He was afraid lest the ill example set by London should influence the rest of the kingdom. He expressed himself as willing to bear the expense of finding two or three honest persons in each ward, if required, to join the constable in an "ocular view." But in spite of every precaution fraudulent returns continued to flow in, and the collection of the tax to be slow and precarious.[1251]
The Act of Uniformity, 1662.
The passing of the Uniformity Act[1252] which condemned every minister to lose his benefice unless he signified his assent to everything contained in the book of common prayer by the 24th August (1662) caused great dissatisfaction in the city—always a stronghold of Presbyterianism—and many a sad scene was witnessed in city churches on Sunday the 17th as ministers took farewell of their congregations.[1253] Driven from the national Church, the Presbyterians,[pg 401] like the Baptists, the Quakers and other "dissenters" formed a separate community, happy if only they were granted toleration. Many of the inhabitants of the city were already suffering confinement for attending "unlawful assemblies." On the occasion of the queen's first visit to Westminster the king gave directions to the mayor and sheriffs to release those Quakers and others who were in gaol in London and Middlesex for having been present at such assemblies, provided they professed allegiance and had not been ringleaders or preachers, "hoping thereby to reduce them to a better conformity."[1254]
Sir John Robinson elected mayor. Michaelmas, 1662.
When lord mayor's day came round Charles again viewed the pageant from a house in Cheapside. This time he was accompanied by the queen. The City supplied the royal party with refreshments as before.[1255] The new mayor, Sir John Robinson,[1256] had been a promoter of the king's restoration, and in return for his services received an augmentation of arms.[1257] He was a nephew of the late Archbishop Laud, and full of his own self-importance "a talking, bragging, buffle-headed fellow," Pepys calls him—boasting of his powers over his brother aldermen, but nevertheless attentive to the wants of the city.[1258]
The reception of the Russian ambassador, 27 Nov., 1662.
A few weeks latter (27 Nov.) the streets of the city again presented a gala appearance, the occasion being the reception of the Russian ambassador. For the last three winters there had been, we are told,[pg 402] scarce any frost, and the opening of the year 1662 had been so exceptionally mild as to cause apprehension of dearth and disease.[1259] But now, on the very day that the Russian ambassador was to pass through the city from Tower wharf, where he had landed, he was reminded of his own country by seeing the roofs of the houses covered with snow.[1260] At eight o'clock in the morning 500 men "apparelled in velvet coats with chains of gold, well mounted on horseback," from the several livery companies made their way to Tower Hill to escort the ambassador.[1261] The streets were lined with the city trained bands and the king's Lifeguards. Pepys was there of course; he rarely missed any sight. He had been disappointed at not getting a better view of Sir Harry Vane's execution, which had taken place in June.[1262] This time he was more fortunate. The ambassador to be sure was late, but Pepys beguiled the time with dinner. "And after I had dined"—he records in his diary[1263]—"I walked to the conduit in the quarrefowr, at the end of Gracious Street and Cornhill and there (the spouts thereof running very near me, upon all the people that were under it) I saw them pretty well, go by." He failed to catch sight of the ambassador himself, but was struck with the handsome appearance of the ambassador's attendants, most of whom carried hawks on their "fists" as a present to Charles. The strangeness of this sight caused the mob to jeer, upon which the diarist characteristically remarks, "but lord! to see the absurd nature of Englishmen that[pg 403] cannot forbear laughing and jeering at every thing that looks strange." Later on he makes a note of having seen the ambassador's retinue at York House engaged in a manner that does not speak well for their habits of cleanliness.[1264]
Grant of the Inspeximus Charter by Charles II, 24 June, 1663.
On the 2nd February, 1663, the fiat went forth for the confirmation of the City's charter, "they having fulfilled the required condition of displacing four or five of the aldermen."[1265] The charter itself bears date the 24th June.[1266] It is of all the City's charters the most ample, reciting and confirming as it does the entire Inspeximus Charter of Charles I, as well as the latter king's letters patent, granted in the 16th year of his reign, confirming to the mayor and citizens the offices of package and scavage.
City loan of £50,000, Sept., 1663.
Notwithstanding the supplies voted to him by parliament, the advances made to him by the City, and the handsome dowry he received with his wife, Charles was continually in want of money. In November, 1662, he had sold Dunkirk to the French king for £200,000, much to the disgust of the English nation. Nevertheless, his extravagance soon reduced him to want, and by the following September (1663) he was in such straits that he sent to the City to borrow the comparatively small sum of £50,000. Seeing that the City had so recently received a confirmation of its charter, it could not refuse; and the money was raised among the aldermen as being[pg 404] a speedier way than applying to the Common Council.[1267]
The king's return to London after a progress, Oct., 1663.
On the occasion of the king's return from a "great progress" in October, he was met by the mayor and aldermen and 500 members of the several livery companies, well and substantially horsed and apparelled in velvet coats and chains of gold according to custom.[1268]
The French ambassador insulted at the lord mayor's banquet. 29 Oct., 1663.
On the 29th October the new lord mayor, Sir Anthony Bateman, entered upon his mayoralty,[1269] with the customary procession and pageant, followed by a banquet at the Guildhall. The banquet was made the occasion of what appears on the face of it to have been a studied insult offered—not by the municipal authorities, but by the lord chancellor, the bishops and lords of the council—to the French ambassador. Whether the lord chancellor and other high officers of state arrived at the Guildhall before their time, or the French ambassador came late, one cannot say. But, however that may have been, it appears that on the latter's arrival the others had already commenced dinner, with the exception of the mayor himself and the municipal authorities, who had not yet taken their places. On the ambassador approaching the table where the lords sat at dinner, intending, as he informed the French king by letter,[1270] to rally them on their[pg 405] good appetite, he met with such a cold reception that he left the hall to go home and dine by himself, in spite of every endeavour on the part of the civic officials to smooth matters over. Two hours later the sheriffs presented themselves at the ambassador's house, accompanied by a deputation from the Common Council, for the purpose of offering excuses for the recent contretemps. The excuses they had to offer were, however, of the lamest character, as the ambassador took care to show. Firstly, they said they had been taken by surprise. This was manifestly false, as the ambassador attended at the Guildhall upon invitation. They next pleaded ignorance and incapacity in receiving one of so high degree, when the ambassador reminded them that they had recently done honour to the Spanish ambassador; and lastly they endeavoured to throw the whole of the blame upon the master of the ceremonies. This excuse, however, like the others, was easily shown to be false, inasmuch as that official was personally engaged in escorting the ambassador to the Guildhall and had nothing to do with the banquet. The deputation thereupon withdrew, being all the more discomforted by the excess of courtesy shown to them by the ambassador, who himself insisted on escorting them to the door (je leur dis que je voulois passer plus avant, et payer un assez mauvais traitement par une civilité extraordinaire).
State visit of the lord mayor to the French ambassador, 11 Nov.
On the 11th November the lord mayor went in state to pay a visit to the ambassador and to beg his forgiveness. Not being able to speak French himself, he took with him an interpreter, who explained to the ambassador on his behalf that unless he (the[pg 406] ambassador) would set the example of forgiveness eternal shame would rest upon the citizens and they would incur the displeasure of the king and nation. Thereupon the ambassador showed himself satisfied and attended the lord mayor to his carriage with marked courtesy.[1271]
War declared, against the Dutch, 22 Feb., 1665.
In view of a war with the Dutch, which seemed inevitable, owing to their interference with English trade, Charles began taking steps to replenish his exhausted exchequer. In June and again in October (1664) he borrowed from the city sums of £100,000.[1272] In November the Commons voted him a sum of two millions and a half, a larger supply than any that had ever yet been granted to a king of England, and the thanks of both Houses were tendered to the city for its assistance.[1273] On the 22nd February, 1665, war was formally declared. Two heralds, in their coats of arms, with four mace-bearers, nine trumpeters and two troops of horse, assembled at Westminster, where the trumpet sounded and the declaration was read amid shouts of joy. "Thence they went to Temple Bar, where the lord mayor and aldermen, in scarlet gowns on horse-back, conducted them to Temple Gate over against Chancery[pg 407] Lane, where it was read with more acclamation than before, the Horseguards drawing their swords and clattering them; then again in Cheapside and before the Royal Exchange with great demonstration of joy and sounding of trumpets, after which many nobles of the court came into the city to dine with the lord mayor."[1274] A day for a public fast was appointed to invoke the Almighty's blessing upon the ignominious war about to commence, and all commercial intercourse with the States was interdicted.[1275]
The loss of the ship "The London."
At this juncture an unfortunate accident occurred which deprived the fleet of one of its most valuable ships—the ship known as "The London," in which Sir John Lawson was about to put to sea—and caused the death of nearly 300 seamen. "The London" was being brought round from Chatham to the Hope, where she was to take on board her commander, when for some unaccountable reason she blew up and became a total wreck, all her ordnance, numbering 80 brass pieces, going to the bottom. The news of the disaster caused much excitement in the city.[1276]
The City's offer to replace her.
The Common Council (17 March) immediately offered its services to the king, and engaged to build another ship of the same tonnage to supply the place of the one that was lost. The king gladly availed himself of the offer of the City, promising "to retain the same in memory for the advantage of this royal chamber upon all occasions."[1277] Pepys's acquaintance[pg 408] with the jobbery of the day, more especially in connection with naval matters, had his misgivings about the City's offer. It was a handsome offer he acknowledged, "and if well managed might be done," but he had his fears lest the work should be put into ill hands.[1278] The work was put out to tender, but the final selection of a contractor was left to the king.[1279] Precepts were issued to the livery companies to "excite and persuade" their members in every possible way to subscribe to the undertaking.[1280] The money, however, was very slow in coming in, no more than £4,200 having been subscribed by May, 1666, when at least £10,000 was estimated to be required.[1281] Nor is this to be wondered at when it was a matter of public notoriety that the money voted expressly by parliament for fitting out a navy had been uselessly squandered. It was said at the time, although not credited by all, that many showed a willingness to advance a large sum of money if the Duke of York would guarantee its being employed on the navy by himself becoming treasurer of the fund; the Duke declined and the offers fell through.[1282]
The "Loyal London" launched, 10 June, 1666.
Pepys's misgivings about the City's new ship, called after its predecessor "Loyal London," appear to have been justified. The ship had to be launched[pg 409] in an unfinished state, and when her guns came to be tried every one of them burst. And yet the vessel was commended by Sir William Coventry, a navy commissioner and secretary to the Duke of York, admiral of the fleet, as "the best in the world, large and small."[1283]
The Duke of York's victory over the Dutch fleet, 3 June, 1665.
At the outset of the war the British fleet was not unattended with success. On the 3rd June, 1665, the Duke of York gained a signal victory over Opdam, admiral of the Dutch fleet, in an action fought off the coast of Suffolk. The report of the guns could be frequently heard on the Thames and caused much excitement in the city,[1284] to allay which the king caused a letter to be despatched to the lord mayor as soon as possible, giving details of the engagement and the losses on either side, and assuring the citizens of the safety of the Duke of York.[1285] Tuesday the 20th was appointed a day of public thanksgiving.[1286]
Precautions against the plague, 1663-1664.
Such a victory at another time would have been hailed with unbounded joy. As it was the enthusiasm of the citizens was damped by the presence among them of the most awful scourge that had ever yet visited the city. Towards the close of 1663 there had been rumours of an outbreak of plague on the continent, and more especially at Amsterdam and Hamburgh. The king communicated with the lord[pg 410] mayor to learn what measures had formerly been taken in like case to prevent the spread of infection. It was suggested by the Court of Aldermen that, after the custom of other countries, vessels coming from infected parts should perform quarantine at Gravesend or the neighbourhood, where a lazaretto should be established. The proposal was accepted,[1287] and to these precautions, taken on the instigation of the city authorities, was largely due the immunity from infection which the city enjoyed for the next fifteen months. In June, 1664, the lords of the council adopted similar precautions as their own and wrote to the lord mayor, in view of the increase of the plague in the Netherlands, desiring him "by all waies and meanes possible to be careful that no person or persons, goods or merchandises whatsoever be permitted to be received or harboured within the citty of London which come from Holland, Zealand or any other places infected with the plague, without certificates from the farmers of the customs or their officers that they have performed their quarantain."[1288]
The Plague of 1665.
The plague made its first appearance in the city in June, 1665. The atmosphere had been very sultry—the 7th June being recorded by Pepys as the hottest day he had ever felt in his life—and the heat caused the infection to spread among the crowded population of the city with amazing rapidity. Many[pg 411] followed the example set by the king and court and fled to the country.[1289] The lord mayor, however, stuck to his post, and the aldermen were forbidden to leave the city without giving notice of some reasonable cause, those who had already absented themselves being ordered to return.[1290] The good example thus set was unhappily not followed by the city rectors. Many of them, to their shame, forsook their cures in abject fear, leaving their parishioners to die without the consolations of the Church, whilst their pulpits were seized upon by Presbyterian ministers, who embraced the opportunity of publicly declaiming against the sins of the court and the ill usage to which they had been compelled to submit.[1291] The first Wednesday of every month was appointed to be kept as a solemn fast day of humiliation until it should please God to put an end to the sickness.[1292] Schools were closed and inns and taverns kept open only for citizens. The streets were cleansed and kept free from vagrant dogs—always suspected of spreading infection. Nevertheless, the death rate rapidly increased. Pest-houses or hospitals were opened and the best medical aid supplied, whilst subscriptions were set on foot for the benefit of the poor.[1293] The last week of August claimed 700 victims within the city's walls, whilst in the week ending the 19th September no less than 1,189—the highest number[pg 412] recorded perished within the same limited area.[1294] The number of deaths that occurred outside the city, but within its liberties, was often three or four times larger than of those within the city's walls. Thus for the week last mentioned the number of deaths from the plague alone in parishes outside the city, but within its liberties, is returned in the Bills of Mortality as having exceeded 3,000.[1295] The continued increase in the number of deaths in the first half of September was a matter of surprise, for cold weather had set in and the lord mayor had caused fires to be lighted in the open thoroughfares for the benefit of the poor that lay starving in the streets, as well as (perhaps) with the view of purifying the atmosphere.[1296] When the plague was at its height deaths followed in such rapid succession that the work of burying its victims had to be carried on night and day. Even then there was only time to huddle the corpses together in a fosse commune, and to cover them with a scanty supply of earth. Small wonder if complaints were made to the Court of Aldermen of noisome smells arising from the churchyard of St. Mary's Bethlem. The court immediately (5 Sept.) gave orders for remedying the evil. No more pits were to be dug, but each corpse was to occupy a separate grave, fresh mould was to be laid over places complained of, and bones and coffin-boards found above ground were to be interred in the middle of the churchyard.[1297]
The worst was now over. From the middle of September the number of deaths in the city began to decrease almost as rapidly as they had risen. In the first week in November there was a sudden increase on the return of the previous week, but in the following week there was again a fall, and this continued until in the first week of December the deaths in the city numbered only twenty-four. Nevertheless it was thought advisable to prohibit the usual entertainments which took place after the wardmote elections on St. Thomas's day, in order to minimise the risk of infection.[1298] The mayor was justified in taking this precaution, for the very next week the number of deaths more than doubled itself (57). That the city of London was at this time one of the healthiest places in the kingdom is shown by the fact that just as it was one of the last places attacked by the plague, so it was one of the first to become free, in spite of its having been made "the receptacle of all the people from all infected places."[1299]
The total number of victims in the city proper during the twelve month ending the 19th December, 1665, is officially given as 9,887. When we consider that the entire population within the city walls—comprising an area of one square mile, more or less—could scarcely have reached 100,000,[1300] the extent[pg 414] of the calamity becomes appalling; the city was literally decimated.
Naval engagement with the Dutch, June, 1666.
A city loan of £100,000.
Whilst the plague was raging the English fleet had remained in the Thames, leaving the Dutch masters of the sea. The opening of the new year (1666) found England engaged in a war with France, as well as with the Dutch. Louis, however, was content to leave the English and the Dutch to settle matters between themselves at sea. On the 1st June a desperate naval battle commenced off the North Foreland and continued for four days, at the end of which neither party could claim a victory. Both fleets withdrew for repairs. It was at this crisis that the "Loyal London" was hastily launched and application made to the city for a loan of £100,000. The money was readily voted, contrary to expectations.[1301]
The Fire of London, Sept., 1666.
When the last instalment (£1,500) of the loan was paid into the exchequer, the Guildhall and its surroundings were being threatened with destruction by the Great Fire,[1302] which, breaking out on the night of Saturday, 1st September, 1666, or early on Sunday morning, at a baker's shop in Pudding Lane, within five days reduced the greater part of the city to ashes. The king had long ago anticipated such a calamity, arising from the narrowness of the streets and the overhanging houses built for the most part of wood. More than a year before (11 April, 1665) he had written to the mayor, recorder and aldermen of the city[1303] warning them of the danger and recommending a[pg 415] more diligent execution of the Act for the repair of highways and sewers. He authorised them to imprison such persons as, after due warning, continued to erect buildings in contravention of the Act, and to pull the buildings down. He further desired them to open Temple Bar and the passage and gatehouse of Cheapside in St. Paul's Churchyard, as mentioned in the Act, and he would himself inspect what progress was being made in carrying out these improvements. He concluded by declaring that he had made the city his royal residence,[1304] and had received from it such marks of loyalty and affection as would ever make him concerned for its wealth, trade, reputation, beauty and convenience.
The outbreak of the fire at first caused no uneasiness, such sights being only too common. But when no less than 300 houses had been destroyed within a few hours, and the flames, carried by a strong east wind that prevailed, threatened others, the inhabitants began to take alarm. The mayor, Sir Thomas Bludworth, was early on the scene, but he lacked decision of character and failed to keep his head. He endeavoured to carry out the king's orders by pulling down houses to prevent the fire spreading, but as often as not he was overtaken by the flames. "Lord, what can I do?" he lack-a-daisically exclaimed in answer to a message from the king; "I am spent; people will not obey me. I have been pulling down houses; but the fire overtakes us faster than we can do it."[1305] The inhabitants were[pg 416] too busy removing their furniture and effects to a place of safety to render much assistance to the mayor, but he found willing hands in the soldiers supplied by the king and the Duke of York, both of whom displayed great personal energy. "The Duke of York," wrote an eye-witness of the mournful scene,[1306] "hath wonn the hearts of the people wth his continuall and indefatigable paynes day and night in helping to quench the fire, handing bucketts of water with as much diligence as the poorest man that did assist; if the lord maior had done as much his example might have gone far towards saveing the citty."
The extent of the ravages of the fire.
In spite of every effort to stay its progress the fire continued to rage throughout the whole of Monday and Tuesday. By this time Lombard Street, Cannon Street and Gracechurch Street had been reduced to ashes. The houses on London Bridge were attacked and Southwark threatened with destruction. On Wednesday the flames devastated Cornhill and the Exchange. The following day they got hold of St. Paul's (at that time undergoing repairs and surrounded with scaffolding), and were carried by the east wind towards the Temple and Hatton Garden. The brick buildings of the Temple offered a more stubborn resistance than the wooden buildings of the city, and prevented the fire spreading further westward.[1307] In the meantime resort was had to gunpowder for the quicker destruction of houses in the[pg 417] city, and by this means much was eventually saved which otherwise would inevitably have been lost. But this was not done without considerable opposition from the owners of houses who objected to their property being blown up if there was a chance of it being saved.[1308] At last the "horrid, malicious, bloody flame," described by Pepys as so unlike the flame of an ordinary fire, burnt itself out, and at the close of Thursday, the 6th September, the inhabitants of the city were able for the first time since the outbreak to seek a night's rest without fear of further danger. When they rose the next morning and contemplated the extent of the havoc wrought on their city by the fire, the hearts of many must have fairly sunk within them. At least four-fifths of the whole of the buildings situate within the walls had been reduced to ashes. The official report was that no less than 13,200 houses and eighty-nine parish churches, besides St. Paul's and divers chapels, were destroyed, and that only seventy-five acres out of a total of 373 acres of ground within the walls escaped the conflagration.[1309] These seventy-five acres chiefly lay in the vicinity of Aldgate and Tower Hill, and probably owed their immunity from the fire to the free use of gunpowder, for it was in Tower Street, Pepys tells us, that the practice of blowing up houses began. Most of the livery companies lost their halls. Clothworkers' Hall burned for three days and three nights, the flames being fed with the oil that was stored in its cellars. The Leaden Hall was partly saved. Gresham House[pg 418] also escaped; but the Guildhall suffered severely, its outer walls only being left standing.
Lord Mayor Bludworth.
Much dissatisfaction was displayed against Bludworth for his want of resolution during the crisis,[1310] and when Michaelmas-day arrived, and he was about to go out of office, he was called to account for his conduct. In anticipation of lord mayor's day he wrote to Joseph Williamson, afterwards Secretary of State, bespeaking his favour and support. He professed not to live by popular applause (he said), but he needed and desired the support and esteem of government, "having had the misfortune to serve in the severest year that ever man did."[1311]
The fire attributed to the Papists.
As to the origin of the fire the wildest rumours at the time prevailed, and for years afterwards it was commonly attributed to Papists wishing to destroy the stronghold of the reformed religion, notwithstanding the fact that not a scintilla of evidence was forthcoming in support of such a charge, after a most careful investigation.[1312] The citizens were not satisfied with the first inquiry, and in March, 1668, a petition was prepared to lay before parliament to re-open the question and to receive fresh evidence.[1313] Thirteen years later the belief that the Papists had a hand in causing the wholesale destruction of the[pg 419] city was formally promulgated by the House of Commons (10 Jan., 1681),[1314] and the same belief was perpetuated by an inscription on the Monument commemorating the fire, an inscription which met with the approval of the municipal authorities of the day.[1315]
Sir Patience Ward and the inscription on the Monument.
Sir Patience Ward happened to be mayor at the time, but was probably no more responsible for the inscription than any other member of the Court of Aldermen or Common Council, notwithstanding the severe reflection passed upon him by his namesake Thomas Ward,[1316] who, speaking of Titus Oates and his bogus "discoveries," wrote:
"He swore—with flaming faggot sticks,
In sixteen hundred sixty-six,
That they through London took their marches,
And burnt the city down with torches;
Yet all invisible they were,
Clad in their coats of Lapland air.
The sniffling Whig-mayor Patience Ward
To this damn'd lie paid such regard,
That he his godly masons sent,
T' engrave it round the Monument:
They did so; but let such things pass—
His men were fools, himself an ass."
The inscription finally removed, 1830.
On the accession of James II the obnoxious inscription was removed, but the feeling against Papists had obtained so strong a hold over the popular mind, that it was again set up as soon as William III came to the throne.[1317] There it remained[pg 420] until 1830, when, wisdom having come with years, it was finally removed by order of the Common Council (6 Dec.).[1318] No longer is it true, in the words of Pope, that
"... London's column pointing at the skies
Like a tall bully lifts the head and lies."
Provisions ordered for the city, 5 & 6 Sept., 1666.
As soon as the fire began to abate measures were taken to provide food for the houseless poor. A detachment of 200 soldiers was ordered to London from Hertfordshire with carts laden with pickaxes, ropes, buckets, etc., to prevent any further outbreak, whilst the justices of the peace and deputy lieutenants were instructed to forward provisions to the city, especially bread and cheese, lest the much suffering inhabitants should perish from starvation.[1319]
Letter of condolence and assistance from York, 17 Sept., 1666.
The City received much sympathy and no little assistance from other cities, both in England and Ireland. The city of York not only despatched its town clerk to London to express its condolences with the Londoners in their great loss, but the lord mayor of York wrote (17 Sept.) to the lord mayor of London to tell him that a small sum of money—"as much as this poore decayed citty could furnish us with"—was on its way to London for the relief of the most necessitous and distressed.[1320]
Similar letters from the Lord Lieutenant and Council of Ireland, 27 Sept.
Ten days later (29 Sept.) Lord Ormond and the Lords of the Council of Ireland wrote to Bludworth expressing their hearty sorrow at the calamity that[pg 421] had befallen the citizens of London, who had shown so much humanity and kindness to the Protestants of Ireland in the late rebellion. They desired to assist the city in its distress, but money was so scarce in Ireland that they were compelled to ask the city to accept the greater part of such assistance as that country could offer in cattle, which should be despatched either alive or slaughtered, as his lordship should prefer, to any port in Ireland. But before this could be done the assent of parliament would have to be obtained.[1321]
Similar letter from Londonderry.
The inhabitants of Londonderry sent a deeply sympathetic and affectionate letter to their "deare mother citty," and forwarded a sum of £250 to assist those "who buylt or howses now their oune are in ashes." They could not send more (they said) because of the deep poverty that lay upon their city and the general want of money throughout the country. What they did send they sent as an expression of their love and duty to their "honoured mother."[1322]
Municipal offices removed to Gresham House.
In the meantime a special Court of Aldermen had met in the afternoon of Thursday, the 6th September, and appointed Gresham House for the meetings of the Court of Aldermen and Common Council, and for transacting the general municipal business of[pg 422] the city until further order. The mayor and the sheriffs, whose houses had been destroyed, were also to take up their lodging there during the remainder of their year of office. The Exchange, too, was ordered to be kept in the gardens or walks of Gresham House. The house was to be got ready with all speed, and the governor of the East India Company was to be desired to see that the pepper stored in the walks was removed without delay. Temporary sites were at the same time appointed for the various markets until better accommodation could be found. Those who had been rendered houseless were allowed to erect sheds on the void places of London Bridge. It was further resolved to entreat his majesty to send tents into Finsbury Fields for housing the poor until they could provide themselves with habitations. The other wants of the poor were to be supplied as far as possible by the masters, wardens and assistants of the several companies of which they happened to be members.[1323] On Friday the court again met at Gresham House, when it gave orders for the ruins of the Guildhall to be cleared of all rubbish. Melted lead, iron, and such other materials as were of value were to be picked out and stored for further use. The passages to the Guildhall were to be boarded up. The chamberlain was ordered to remove his office to Gresham House; and thither also were to go the deputy town clerk and the city swordbearer, whose houses had been consumed. They were to take with them the city's records and such books and papers as were in actual use.[1324]
Freemen allowed to erect tents or sheds for trade purposes in certain parts of the city.
The next day (8 Sept.) the court gave permission for any freeman of the city to erect a tent or shed wherein to carry on his trade or craft on any part of the artillery ground, or if he so wished, either outside London wall between the postern near Broad Street and Moorgate, or within the wall between the said postern and Coleman Street. He might also erect his tent or shed in the "Round" at Smithfield. But in every case the ground was to be set out as apportioned by the mayor and sheriffs with the assistance of "Mr." [Peter] Mills. Those who had formerly kept shop in the upper "pawne" of the Royal Exchange were at the same time permitted to erect sheds under certain conditions.[1325]
Order of Common Council for clearing rubbish from the streets, 10 Sept.
On Monday, the 10th September, the Common Council met. It is the first court since the fire of which any record has come down to us. Its first care was to order every street and lane in each ward to be cleared of all rubbish by the late inhabitants, "every one before his grounds," and by no one else. It next proceeded to nominate a committee of aldermen and commoners to consider the best means of raising the city out of its ruins, and it was agreed that the Common Council should sit every Wednesday at Gresham House.[1326]
Proclamation for the recovery of goods stolen or lost during the late fire, 19 Sept.
When the fire was at its height the king had been anxious to send for the Duke of Albemarle, but hesitated to do so fearing lest he would be unwilling to be ordered home whilst engaged in the Dutch war.[1327] Representations of the king's wishes, however, having[pg 424] been made to the duke, he hurried home. On the 12th September a committee was appointed by the Court of Aldermen to wait upon him with a draft proclamation for the discovery and restoration of goods taken either wilfully, ignorantly, or of purpose during the confusion consequent on the late fire.[1328] The quantity of plate, money, jewels, household stuff, goods and merchandise discovered among the ruins was very great, and much of it had quickly been misappropriated. The proclamation ordered all persons who had so misappropriated property to bring the same within eight days into the armoury in Finsbury Fields; and by order of the Common Council no such property was to be given up to any claimant without permission of the Court of Aldermen or the lord mayor and sheriffs for the time being.[1329]
Letter from the Primate and lords to the mayor touching the property of ruined churches, 19 Oct., 1666.
A month later (19 Oct.) a letter was addressed to the mayor signed by the archbishop of Canterbury, the lords Clarendon, Albemarle, Manchester, Arlington and others, complaining that sundry materials of city churches destroyed by the fire had been embezzled and stolen, and also that smiths' forges and other artificers' shops and even alehouses were kept within the sacred ruins. The mayor was directed, with the assistance of the Court of Aldermen, to obtain inventories of all communion plate, vestments, records, books and other goods belonging to each church that the fire had destroyed, and of all that remained to each church after the fire, and he was to cause the plate and goods that survived the fire to be preserved[pg 425] for future use in their respective churches. He was further directed to collect and preserve the lead, bells and other appurtenances and materials of the various churches in order to assist in repairing and re-building them, and to prohibit any trade or selling of ale, beer, tobacco or victuals within their precincts.[1330]
Lord mayor's day shorn of its pageantry, 29 Oct., 1666.
One effect of the fire, which was estimated at the time to have destroyed houses of the rental value of £600,000 a-year,[1331] was seen in the lack of pageantry which usually marked the day when the newly elected mayor proceeded to the Exchequer to be sworn. When Bludworth's successor—Sir William Bolton—went to take the oath on the 29th October, the meanness of the appearance of the civic fathers was remarked by the on-lookers, who reflected "with pity upon the poor city ... compared with what it heretofore was."[1332]
No elections on St. Thomas's day.
Another result was that when the day for election of members of the Common Council was approaching, the Court of Aldermen, considering how difficult it would be, if not absolutely impossible, to hold the customary wardmotes, resolved to present a Bill to Parliament for permitting the sitting members to continue in their places for the year next ensuing without any election being held.[1333]
The City's scheme for insurance against fire, 1681.
Fourteen years after the fire (i.e., towards the close of the year 1680) the City projected a scheme[pg 426] for insurance against fire, and in 1681 a deed of conveyance of city lands of the estimated value of £100,000 was executed by the City to certain trustees as security to persons effecting insurances against fire.[1334] That the municipal body of the city should undertake a business of insurance and thus compete with private enterprise gave rise to no little discontent among the "gentlemen of the insurance office" carrying on business "on the backside of the Royal Exchange," who claimed to have originated the idea.[1335]