The Ironmongers had all along proved to be such true friends to the State that they found out to their cost, and too late, that they had not been true to themselves. Their account with the Government and their Royal masters of fifty years before still remained unsettled, and to so low a pitch had their exchequer fallen that in 1691 they were again compelled to pawn their plate for 253_l._, and no longer trust to the promises or bonds of their debtors. And so, striking off the balance of 5,000_l._ as a bad debt, they determined in future to trust only those who were trustworthy. But even the loss or money, and having to pawn their plate and valuables, were not their only troubles. The harassing demands of the State at times were so oppressive that it makes us wonder the City did not revolt sooner than it did and shut its gates to tyranny as Derry did in 1688. Only one example of oppression need I give here. In 1675 the Hearth Tax collector called in Fenchurch Street and demanded 4_l._ 16_s._ for “chimney money” for two empty houses, belonging to the Company, then standing between the present Queen Victoria and Thames Streets. The Ironmongers declined to pay the demand, whereupon (says the record) “he (the collector) did, wᵗʰ his consorts and constable, goe upp into the hall and took away one of the Company’s salts.” This was distressing with a vengeance, everyone will admit, and, notwithstanding that we think empty houses to-day should pay their share of taxation and thus lighten parochial rates, we do not advocate the sharp practice of King Charles’s collector.