The news of the queen's triumph was received with the wildest delight, and for three nights in succession London was illuminated. Addresses began to flow in upon her in such quantities that a special day of the week had to be set apart for their reception.[763] The Common Council assured her that they had never entertained the slightest doubt as to what would be the result of a trial unconstitutionally instituted and unfairly carried on; and expressed a hope that she would continue to reside among them.[764] The Freedom of the City was voted to counsel engaged in her defence.[765] [Sidenote: The queen's reply, 24 Nov., 1820.] In acknowledging the City's address the queen referred to her late victory as a triumph for the people. "If my enemies had prevailed"--she said--"the people who are now feared would have been despised, their oppression would have been indefinitely increased." She declared that it was to the sympathy and support of the people and of the Press that she was chiefly indebted for her escape from a conspiracy such as had never before threatened an individual, and although she doubted whether her presence in the country was conducive to the national welfare, as seemed to be generally supposed, she expressed herself as being always ready to conform to the will of the community at large:--"The people have made many sacrifices for me, and I will live for the people."[766] [Sidenote: The queen at Brandenburgh House.] The Court of Aldermen, as a body, had rigidly withheld their support from the unfortunate queen. Nevertheless, there were two members of the Court who thoroughly believed in her innocence, and who rendered her every assistance in their power. These were Matthew Wood, in whose house in South Audley Street she first found shelter on her return from abroad, and Robert Waithman. Matthew Wood continued to attend her at Brandenburgh House, where she kept her court, and where he dined with her the day that the Bill against her was thrown out. The motley character of her attendants elicited a satirical poem from Theodore Hook, in which the alderman comes in for his share of ridicule in the following lines:-- "And who were attending her--heigh ma'am; ho ma'am? Who were attending her, ho? --Lord Hood for a man, For a maid Lady Anne,[767] And Alderman Wood for a _beau--beau_ And Alderman Wood for a _beau_." [Sidenote: Presents her portrait to the City.]