His reluctance to accept office.
At last consents, and is sworn, 27 Oct., 1687.
Not every dissenter welcomed the king's declaration. To many of them it seemed—what the king intended it to be—only a lever for raising the Roman Catholics. Baxter, to whom friendly overtures were made by government to win him over, refused to join in any address of thanks for the declaration. John Howe declared himself an opponent of the dispensing power, and Bunyan declined to enter into any negotiations on the matter at all. William Kiffin, on the other hand, an influential Baptist in the city, succumbed to the threats, if not to the blandishments, of James.[1590] In addition to possessing spiritual gifts of no mean order, Kiffin was also a man of wealth and position in the world of commerce. In every way he would prove a valuable ally, if only he could be won over. Against this, however, there was one great impediment: the recollection of the judicial murder of his two grandsons, Benjamin and William Hewling, by Jeffreys at the Bloody Assizes. Fondly imagining that the memory of that foul act could be blotted out and the stricken heart salved by an increase of wealth or elevation in rank, James sent for him to court, and after some preliminary remarks touching the royal favour that was being shown to dissenters, told Kiffin that he had put him down as an alderman in his "new charter," alluding no doubt to the royal commission of 6th August, in which Kiffin's name appears as alderman of Cheap ward in the place of[pg 522] Samuel Dashwood. On hearing this Kiffin replied, "Sir, I am a very old man,"—he was seventy years of age when he lost his grandchildren—"I have withdrawn myself from all kind of business for some years past, and am incapable of doing any service in such an affair to your majesty or the city. Besides, sir," the old man continued, with tears running down his cheeks, and looking the king steadily in the face, "the death of my grandsons gave a wound to my heart which is still bleeding, and never will close but in the grave." For a moment the king was abashed, but quickly recovering himself told Kiffin that he (James) would find "a balsam for that sore." The old man still held out, until, hearing that legal proceedings were about to be taken against him, he took counsel's opinion as to what was best to be done. He was told that he was running a great risk by refusing to become an alderman, for the judges, as they then were, might subject him to a penalty of ten, twenty, or thirty thousand pounds, "even what they pleased." Under such circumstances he consented to be made an alderman, rather than bring ruin on himself and family. He, however, put off the evil day as long as he could, and was not sworn into office until the 27th October.[1591]
Kiffin expressed himself as pleased with the reception he met with in his ward, where he was almost a stranger. But much of the business which the Court of Aldermen was called upon to execute in those days was distasteful to him. "We had frequently orders from the king" (he writes) "to[pg 523] send to the several companies to put out great numbers of liverymen out of the privilege of being liverymen, and others to be put in their rooms; most of which that were so turned out were Protestants of the Church of England. There has been a list of seven hundred at a time to be discharged, although no crime laid to their charge." The royal commission which appointed him an alderman also created him a justice of the peace and a member of the Court of Lieutenancy, but to use his own words, "I never meddled with either of those places, neither in any act of power in that court [i.e., Court of Aldermen] touching causes between man and man, but only such things as concerned the welfare of the city and good of the orphans, whose distressed condition called for help, although we were able to do little towards it." He was not called upon to discharge his invidious duties for any great length of time; for after being in office only nine months he obtained his discharge, to his "very great satisfaction." He continued to live for another thirteen years, dying on the 29th December, 1701, in his 86th year, and he was buried in Bunhill Fields—that "God's acre" which holds the dust of so many of his fellow non-conformists.
Sir John Shorter, mayor, Oct., 1687.
In September the king had issued a patent for Sir John Shorter to be lord mayor for the year ensuing. Shorter was a dissenter—"an Anabaptist, a very odd ignorant person, a mechanic, I think," wrote Evelyn[1592] of him—and on that account a clause was inserted in his commission permitting him to have any preacher he might choose.[1593] His granddaughter[pg 524] was married to Sir Robert Walpole. He was at one time alderman of Cripplegate ward, but in December, 1682, he fell foul of Charles II for attending a conventicle at Pinmakers' Hall, and the Court of Aldermen received orders to remove him.[1594] He had recently, however (6 Aug., 1687), been restored to his aldermanry and to his rank of precedence by commission from James,[1595] and now, by the same usurped authority, he was to become lord mayor. The feast of SS. Simon and Jude (28 Oct.) happening this year to fall on a Friday, the installation of the new lord mayor, as well as the banquet to which James and the Papal Nuncio had been invited, was postponed until the following day. The aldermen agreed to defray the cost of the entertainment out of their own pockets,[1596] each laying down the sum of £50. Kiffin also sent £50, although he had not yet been sworn a member of the court; but he afterwards regretted having done so when he learnt that the Pope's Nuncio and other priests had been invited as guests.[1597] The day passed off well. The Goldsmiths' Company, of which the new lord mayor was a member, made a particularly brave show. The entire roadway from Charing Cross to the city had been fresh gravelled that morning, and the king, who was accompanied by the queen, expressed himself as well pleased with the entertainment afforded him.[1598]
The Dissenters supreme in the city.
The Dissenters now had matters all their own way. The livery companies had become so leavened with an influx of new members, whose claim for admittance rested chiefly on their antagonism to the established Church, that most of them now sent in addresses to the king thanking him for his Declaration of Indulgence. The Barber-Surgeons and the Apothecaries had already done so; so had the Clothworkers, the Mercers and the Glovers. Their example was now followed by the Cutlers, the Goldsmiths, the Haberdashers, the Joiners and the Weavers.[1599] The mayor, who kept his mayoralty at Grocers' Hall, openly held a conventicle there on Sunday, the 6th November,[1600] whilst he declined to listen to a sermon by the learned Dr. Stillingfleet in the Guildhall chapel.[1601] More than this, he would have turned the chapel itself into a conventicle could he have had his own way.[1602]
The second Declaration of Indulgence, 27 April, 1688.
In the Spring of 1688 James published a second Declaration of Indulgence varying but slightly from the former one, and ordered it to be read in the churches of London and Westminster on the 20th and 27th May, and in the country on the 3rd and 10th June. This was more than the clergy could stand. A meeting of bishops was held at Lambeth for the purpose of drawing up a petition to the king praying[pg 526] that the clergy might be excused reading an illegal document in the midst of public service. This petition was signed by Sancroft, the primate, and six bishops. Although the Bishop of London was not among those who signed the petition—he at the time being under disability—there is reason for believing that Compton had been taken into counsel by those who drafted it.[1603] On the petition being presented James pretended the utmost surprise, and insisted that the presentation of such a petition was "a standard of rebellion." This took place on Friday preceding the first Sunday (20th May) when the Declaration was to be read in the London churches. When Sunday arrived people flocked to the churches to hear what would happen. Only a few of the London clergy attempted to read the Declaration.[1604] In the country not more than 200 clergy carried out the king's orders, "and of these some read it the first Sunday, but changed their minds before the second; others declared in their sermons that though they obeyed the order they did not approve the Declaration." One minister in particular told his congregation that though he was obliged to read it they were not obliged to hear it, and waited until all had left the church before he commenced reading the hateful document. In other places the congregation took the initiative and rose to go as soon as the minister commenced reading it.[1605]