Election of Wilkes and Bull, sheriffs, 3 July, 1771.

The more important business transacted at this Common Hall was the election of sheriffs for the ensuing year. Wilkes had declared his intention of standing, and had asked Oliver—at that time a prisoner in the Tower—if he intended doing the same, regardless of the claims of senior aldermen. Oliver hesitated as to the course he should pursue, but finally wrote to Wilkes (11 April, 1771) expressing a determination not to serve with him, inasmuch as their political aims were not identical. Wilkes little relished this rebuff, and took exception to the propriety of Oliver's reply; as for himself, he said, "I am ready to serve the office of sheriff with you, sir, or any other gentleman given me by the livery as a colleague, should they think proper to elect me."[306] The election was watched with great interest by the king, who was afraid that Wilkes might succeed in getting elected, although supported only by "a small, though desperate," part of the livery, and he wrote to Lord North expressing a hope that no effort might be wanting to secure the election of Plumbe and Kirkman, the two senior aldermen who had not served.[307] He was doomed to disappointment. The livery declared for Wilkes and Frederick Bull, a creature of Wilkes, and a poll was demanded. This lasted several days, and on the 3rd July the result showed a large majority in their favour, and they were declared duly elected. Oliver came out at the bottom of the poll.[308]

The activity of court interference in this election was revealed by an unhappy contretemps. A letter which "Jack" Robinson, Lord North's secretary, had sent to Benjamin Smith, a partner of Alderman Nash, an "opulent grocer" of Cannon Street, urging him to "push the poll" with as many friends as possible, was carried by mistake to another Smith, of Budge Row, a Wilkite, who immediately published it with an affidavit as to its authenticity. The result was, as might be expected, the greater discomfiture of the ministerial candidates.[309]

Walpole was no less struck with the irrepressibility of Wilkes's character than annoyed at his being elected to an office which would bring him into close contact with the king;—"Wilkes is another Phœnix revived from his own ashes. He was sunk—it was over with him; but the ministers too precipitately hurrying to bury him alive, blew up the embers, and he is again as formidable as ever; and what will seem worse he must go into the very closet whenever the city sends him there with a message.... Wilkes in prison is chosen member of Parliament and then alderman of London. His colleagues betray him, desert him, expose him, and he becomes sheriff of London."[310] Walpole's fears as to Wilkes's personal demeanour in office were groundless. As an alderman of the city he might have made himself sufficiently obnoxious at court had he so pleased, but he knew himself to be no persona grata to the king, and on that account was careful to keep out of his sight. That he knew how to behave on occasion is shown by his conduct during his mayoralty, when he surprised everybody, the king included, by his agreeable manner.

Wilkes and the shrievalty.

Although determined to act with propriety in his personal relationships, Wilkes was no less determined to make himself as obnoxious to the king and his ministers as he well could in his official capacity as sheriff. "I will skirmish with the great almost every day in some way or other," he wrote to Junius. Again, with reference to the House of Lords, he informs his friend that "the sheriff means the attack."[311] A few days previous to his entering upon his duties he and his colleague, Bull, made a bid for popularity by a spirited act. The presence of the military at executions had been resented the previous year, and now in a short letter addressed to the livery they announced their determination to follow the example set by their predecessors in office and not to allow soldiers to attend: "We are determined to follow so meritorious an example, and as that melancholy part of our office will commence in a very few days we take this opportunity of declaring that as the constitution has entrusted us with the whole power of the county, we will not, during our sheriffalty, suffer any part of the army to interfere or even to attend, as on many former occasions, on the pretence of aiding or assisting the civil magistrate.... The magistrate, with the assistance of those in his jurisdiction, is by experience known to be strong enough to enforce all legal commands, without the aid of a standing army." Junius thought this letter "very proper and well drawn."[312]

Another proceeding on the part of Wilkes failed however to meet with like approval. The 25th October being the anniversary of the king's accession, there was to be a thanksgiving service at St. Paul's which the sheriffs in the ordinary course of their duties would be expected to attend. Wilkes took it into his head that he would prefer not to go "in a ginger-bread chariot to yawn through a dull sermon." He accordingly prepared a letter to the lord mayor, asking that he might be allowed to sit at Old Bailey instead of taking part in what he called a "vain parade" on the anniversary of the accession of a prince, whose government was so unpopular. Before sending this missive he submitted it to Junius.[313] The latter thought it "more spirited than judicious," and suggested that it was impolitic, to say the least, for "a grave sheriff" to mark his entrance into office with a direct outrage to the king, for outrage it was. He advises his friend to "consider the matter coolly," but in case Wilkes persisted, he sent him a more temperate form of letter.[314] The advice thus given was followed, and Wilkes abandoned his intention.

Letter of Junius to Wilkes, 21 Aug., 1771.

Wilkes had thus advanced another step in civic life, in spite of an unfortunate habit he had of quarrelling with his best friends. He had disgusted, or had himself thrown over, Horne, Sawbridge, Townshend and Oliver, all of whom were members with him of the society known as the Supporters of the Bill of Rights, and all had contributed towards relieving him of his pecuniary difficulties. Townshend and Horne had recently joined forces "to wrest the city out of Wilkes's hands," and Horne had done his best in a quiet way to prevent Wilkes being returned as sheriff, although he denied taking any part in the election.[315] He even ridiculed the idea in a letter to Wilkes (10 July), commencing "Give you joy, Sir,[316] the parson of Brentford is at length defeated. He no longer rules with an absolute sway over the city of London."[317] Wilkes was now to receive support from a quarter least expected. Hitherto, the redoubtable Junius had treated Wilkes with little more than contempt.[318] He was now to become one of his warmest supporters. It was not that Junius entertained any great respect for Wilkes; it was enough that Wilkes was opposed to the ministry, and that he promised to be "a thorn in the king's side."[319] On the 21st August, about noon, Wilkes received a mysterious letter,[320] the writer of which proved to be Junius himself. After assuring Wilkes of his willingness to support him so long as he (Wilkes) depended only upon public favour and made common cause with the people, Junius comes to the real purport of his letter. He was especially anxious that Sawbridge should be chosen mayor at the coming election on Michaelmas-day, and he uses all his art of persuasion upon Wilkes to get him to support Sawbridge's candidature. He repudiates all idea of self-interest in wishing to see Sawbridge in the mayoralty chair in place of Crosby, who was reported to be seeking a second year of office. "By all that's honourable I mean nothing but the cause"—his letter concluded—"and I may defy your keenest penetration to assign a satisfactory reason why Junius, whoever he be, should have a personal interest in giving the mayoralty to Mr. Sawbridge, rather than to Mr. Crosby."

The reply of Wilkes, 12 Sept., 1771.