Walpole and the queen.
For a short time after the king's accession it appeared as if Walpole's ascendancy was to be suddenly cut short. The minister was fortunate, however, in winning over the queen to his interests, and her influence, combined with his own masterful tact, turned the scale in his favour, and he was allowed to remain at the head of affairs. Before long he succeeded in gaining the entire confidence of the king himself, but during the lifetime of the queen it was chiefly to her that the minister turned in times of difficulty. She was a woman of considerable ability, and thoroughly appreciated Walpole, and together they were able to avoid many political pitfalls and to persistently carry out that policy of peace which characterised the whole of this reign.
Dissenters and the Corporation and Test Acts, 1730.
Thus it was that in 1730, when the government was placed in an unpleasant dilemma over an attempt that was being made by Dissenters throughout the country to obtain the repeal of the Corporation and Test Acts Walpole took counsel with the queen, and these two laid a plan with Hoadley, Bishop of Salisbury, for getting the Dissenters to postpone bringing their petition before parliament. The plan as we learn from Lord Hervey,[85] who had every means of making himself acquainted with the inner workings of the Court of George II, was this. Hoadley, in whom the Dissenters placed much confidence as an avowed advocate of ecclesiastical as well as civil liberty, was to do all he could to persuade them to postpone, at least for a short time, their petition to parliament, whilst Walpole was to see that the committee of London Dissenters, which was to be chosen to confer with government, should comprise none but creatures of his own. The scheme succeeded entirely. The Dissenters were hoodwinked. The packed committee went through the form of an interview with the ministers, and in due course reported to the general assembly of Dissenters that the time was inopportune for petitioning parliament. The general body agreed, and the ministry was thus saved.
The City and Walpole's Excise Bill, 1733.
Although it was chiefly as a financier that the great minister, under whom England enjoyed an unexampled period of peace and prosperity, excelled, it was a financial reform that nearly brought him to ruin three years later. This was his famous Excise Bill. In a hasty desire to curry favour with the landowners by reducing the Land Tax Walpole proposed to establish a new system of levying duties on tobacco and wine. The tax itself was not new, but only the manner of levying it. Hitherto the duty on wine and tobacco had been payable on importation. The new proposal was that these commodities should be allowed to lie in bonded warehouses duty free until taken out for home consumption, when their sale was to be restricted to shops licensed for the purpose. In other words the customs' duties on these commodities were to be changed into excise duties, a form of taxation especially hateful in those days, as seeming to infringe the rights of the subject by giving revenue officers the right of entering and searching houses at any hour without further warrant. The City and the country were up in arms, and the city members of parliament were instructed to oppose the Bill for reasons set out in writing and delivered into their hands.[86]
Walpole delayed bringing in the Bill as long as he could in hopes that the clamour against it—"epidemic madness," as Hervey called it—might subside. Neither London nor the kingdom, however, would listen to reason, and the universal cry was No slavery—no excise—no wooden shoes![87] When the Bill was at last introduced (14 March) it met with violent opposition, and more particularly from two of the city members, viz., Sir John Barnard and Micaiah Perry. During the debate the doors of the House were besieged by such a noisy crowd that Walpole in an unguarded moment characterised the mob as "sturdy beggars." This at once brought Barnard to his feet, and although there was at first a disposition not to hear him, as he had already spoken to the Bill, the House was prevailed upon to give him a second hearing, owing to his position as a representative of "the greatest and richest city in Europe," and a city greatly interested in the issues of the debate. Barnard thereupon took Walpole severely to task for the expression he had let drop. "The honourable gentleman," said he, "talks of sturdy beggars; I do not know what sort of people may be now at the door, because I have not lately been out of the House, but I believe they are the same sort of people that were there when I came last into the House, and then I can assure you that I saw none but such as deserve the name of sturdy beggars as little as the honourable gentleman himself, or any gentleman whatever." Sturdy beggars or not (he declared in conclusion) they could not legally be prevented from coming down to the House. After some further debate Walpole gained the day, and on the 4th April the Bill was read a first time.[88]
Before the Bill came on for its second reading a copy of it had been laid before the Common Council (9 April), and a petition had thereupon been drawn up and presented to the House asking that the City might be heard by counsel against the Bill.[89] After long debate the prayer of the petition was refused, but only by a bare majority of seventeen.[90] By this time the clamour had become so great, even the army showing signs of disaffection, that Walpole, true to his principle of expediency, the key-note of his policy, resolved to purchase peace by concession. He postponed the further consideration of the Bill (11 April) for a period of two months, and afterwards withdrew it altogether. On leaving the House the day that the motion for postponement was carried the minister was mobbed. The affair was little more than an "accidental scuffle," but it was studiously represented to parliament as "a deep-laid scheme for assassination." Resolutions were passed condemning in strong terms all actors and abettors of the outrage, and the city members were especially directed to carry copies to the lord mayor for publication within his jurisdiction—the City being considered as the real author of all the mischief.[91]
Mayoralty of Sir William Billers, 1733-1734.
The defeat of the Bill was received with extravagant joy, and in 1734 it was proposed to celebrate its anniversary in the city with bonfires. For this purpose subscriptions were invited through the medium of the press. The mayor, Sir William Billers, on learning this consulted the Court of Aldermen as to what was best to be done under the circumstances, and by their advice he issued his precept for a special watch to be kept, and for the arrest of all persons attempting to make bonfires or to create disorder.[92] Notwithstanding this precaution a riot broke out, and Billers not only had his windows broken, on account of his obnoxious precept, but was himself pelted with dirt and stones, whilst patrolling the streets in company with the Swordbearer. Insult was added to injury by the newspapers of the day holding him up as having himself been the real cause of all the disorder. The Court of Aldermen, on the other hand, accorded him a hearty vote of thanks for the courage he had displayed.[93] On going out of office Billers again became an object of attack, the mob pelting him with all kinds of filth and endeavouring to smash his coach. The Court of Aldermen were so indignant at this outrage that they offered a reward of £50 for every offender brought to justice.[94]