Chronicles and characters of the stock exchange

by of the Bank of England John Francis

These discoveries inflamed the people, and murmurs that corruption had eaten into the nation became general. Court and camp, city and senate, were alike denounced. The pamphleteers spoke in strong language. “Posterity,” said the author of one, termed The Price of the Abdication, “will set an eternal brand of infamy upon those members, who, to obtain either offices, profitable places, or quarterly stipends, have combined to vote whatever hath been demanded.”

It has been the fashion of a certain class to decry William because he founded the national debt. But the war which he waged was almost a war of necessity, and could not be supported without liberal supplies. There was, however, with William a personal pride in the contest. He had been taught, from his boyhood, hatred to France, and almost in boyhood had checked the universal dominion aimed at by Louis. With him, therefore, opposition to France was a passion; and he who, at the age of twenty-three, bade defiance to the combined power of the two greatest nations of the modern world, remembered, as soon as he reached the English throne, that proud, though bitter moment, when, surrounded by French force, his people determined to let loose the waters which their skill had confined, and from the homes and hearths of their fathers bear their goods, their fortunes, and their persons, and to erect in a new land the flag they would not see dishonored in the old. When, therefore, William of Orange became monarch of England, his first thought was the humiliation of France. To this point he bent the vast energies of England and his own unconquerable will; for this only was his crown valuable, and for this purpose was the power of England strained to the utmost tension.

The importance of France was then at its height. Louis sought to sway the councils of Europe; and whoever else might have succumbed, the statesmen of England had been in his power, and a monarch of England in his pay. He saw, therefore, with dislike which was not attempted to be concealed, the throne mounted by one who was resolved, not merely to maintain its ancient greatness, but to quell the power of its ancient rival. Louis sheltered the abdicated king, and encouraged his mock court and his mock majesty. This was sufficient proof of his feeling; nor were other indications wanting: and it is a complete fallacy to suppose that the debt was unnecessarily incurred; in it lay the power of William and the safety of the land.

Had the new king employed the arbitrary mode of levying supplies of the earlier monarchs; had he made forced loans and never repaid them; had he seized upon public money, and wrung the purses of public men, the country might as well have been governed by a James as a William, and would in all probability have recalled the exile of the unfortunate House of Stuart. The evils of William’s reign were in the facts that his power was not sufficiently established to borrow on equitable terms; that the bribery, abuses, and corruption of men in high places increased with their position; and, above all, that, instead of paying his debts by terminable annuities, he made them interminable. Lord Bolingbroke declares, that he could have raised funds without mortgaging the resources of the nation in perpetuity, and that it was a political movement to strengthen the power of the crown, and to secure the adherence of that large portion of the people by whom the money had been lent.

The war was necessary, and the contraction of the debt equally so; for, although William engaged in the contest with something like personal pride, it was essentially a national war. A free people had driven away the Stuarts; a despotic king would have forced them back. If ever, therefore, a contest directly interested both subject and sovereign, it was that which created the national encumbrance; and England was fortunate in the man she had chosen to champion her rights. The contest, which dated from 1688 and ended in 1697, which cost us 20 millions in loans and 16 millions in taxes, was only closed because both nations were fatigued. It produced no great results, no grand achievements, no lasting peace. It did but prove that the strength which had departed from England during the two previous reigns had slumbered, but was not withered. The earlier history was, as many of England’s great wars have been, comparatively unsuccessful. The parties into which the nation was divided prevented the unanimity necessary to great deeds. They agreed only in robbing the people. Public principle was with them a public jest. Incapacity and corruption pervaded all branches. By corruption a Parliamentary majority was procured, and through incapacity the commerce of the country was decaying. Talent was only employed in devising its own benefit; patriotism was perverted; national virtue was forgotten; and the allies found that on sea and land the enemy had the advantage. The navy was daring, but divided; the admirals were accused of disaffection. While the foe was intercepting our merchandise in the Channel, the vessels of England were building in the docks. On the sea, our own peculiar boast, we were dishonored; our flag was insulted; and English admirals retreated before French fleets. Ships of war were burnt; merchant-vessels were sunk; and a million of merchandise was destroyed.

But the clamor of the people reached her councils. It was said our plans were betrayed to the enemy; treachery was justifiably suspected; and all who were familiar with the period will join the writer in thinking it not only possible, but probable.

During these trials the spirit of William remained unchanged; and, rejecting all overtures from France, he exhibited to the world the soldiership for which he was remarkable. At Namur he fought in the trenches, ate his dinner with the soldiers, animated them with his presence, shared their dangers, and won their hearts. Namur capitulated, and the scene changed. The French power was shaken in Catalonia; its coasts were assailed; its people were suffering, and Louis, whose great general was dead, was sufficiently humbled to renew his proposals for peace, which, after nine years’ war, costing Europe 480 millions of money and 800,000 men, was gained by the pacification of Ryswick.

A deep thinker of the present day has said of the war anterior to 1688,—and the argument is supported by that school of which Cobbett was chief,—“The cost happily fell upon those who lived about the time,—it was not transmitted to posterity, according to the clever contrivance devised in a more enlightened and civilized age. They spent their own money, and not that of their grandchildren. They did as they liked with their own labor and its results; they did not mortgage the labor of succeeding generations.”

Men do not argue thus, ordinarily. The case is very similar to that of a land-proprietor mortgaging his estate to defend it from a suit which endangers it. His posterity may regret, but they cannot complain; they know it is better to have the estate partially mortgaged than not to have an estate at all. It seems, to the writer, similar with the national debts of the reign of William. He was bound to defend the people who had chosen him; war was then, as now, a popular pastime; and William is no more to be blamed that he was not in advance of the time, than the nobles of the present day are to blame because they bring up their younger sons to be shot at for glory and a few shillings a day, instead of seeing, as their successors will probably see, the anti-progressive and anti-Christian nature of the principle thus supported.

The one great evil was, that the difficulty of getting money tempted William to borrow on irredeemable annuities. Had he borrowed only on annuities terminable in a century, he would have attained his money at a little extra cost, but the pressure on the people would have decreased year by year, the credit of the government have increased, and the discontent of the nation been less.