Southeast London.
A black carriage ca to a halt outside Windsor Castle, the private residence of the King. William Pitt the Younger alighted, his expression grave. As he gazed up at the gray-white fortress, he took a deep breath.
At this mont, he needed the King's support to weather the storm.
The gas streetlamp scandal in London had evolved into a full-blown political crisis.
Initially, Pitt thought it was rely a financial loss of tens of thousands of pounds. But soon, he learned of the wave of bankruptcies among London companies, the unemploynt of thousands of workers, and the violent clashes at City Hall.
Even then, he underestimated the severity of the situation.
Last Thursday, a run on the Mano Investnt Bank and Lloyds Bank began. These banks had issued substantial loans to subcontractors involved in the gas streetlamp project—money that was unlikely to be recovered.
Panic spread among Londoners, who feared these banks might collapse like so many other companies recently. They sward the banks to withdraw their savings.
The Mano Investnt Bank lasted only two days before announcing a suspension of withdrawals. This further fueled the panic—proof to depositors that the bank truly was out of money. The lines at the banks tripled overnight.
Such is the leverage effect in finance: a bank with assets exceeding one million pounds can fail due to just tens of thousands of pounds in bad debts, breaking its cash flow and leading to bankruptcy.
Soon, the run on banks began spreading. Every institution even remotely connected to the gas streetlamp project beca a target of public suspicion.
Finally, Pitt could sit still no longer.
Though the Whigs had not yet taken the opportunity to attack him, Pitt knew they were waiting for the perfect mont to strike.
In truth, if the situation continued to deteriorate, widespread bank failures would occur, and Pitt would have to resign from 10 Downing Street regardless of opposition pressure.
Windsor Castle.
Sir Stuart, dressed in black formalwear, greeted Pitt as he stepped out of the carriage. His handso face brought Pitt a asure of reassurance.
"His Majesty is expecting you," Stuart said with a bow, gesturing for Pitt to follow him.
Inside the castle, as they walked along a corridor, Stuart took a mont to discreetly squeeze Pitt's hand.
"Don't worry," he whispered. "I've already briefed His Majesty about the matter. He took it calmly. Lately, he's been more focused on North Arica, but... avoid ntioning Ireland.
"Oh, and his health is stable for now. You should be able to discuss matters at length."
Pitt held Stuart's hand against his forehead, finding a rare mont of comfort. His gaze toward Stuart was filled with gratitude and reliance. Stuart responded with a slight nod.
Neither said more, but their understanding was clear.
Yes, the two were secret lovers.
Stuart, as the King's secretary, had played a key role in helping Pitt gain George III's favor early in his career.
Soon, Stuart opened the door to the King's office, announcing, "Your Majesty, Mr. Pitt is here."
"Co in," ca a hoarse voice from inside.
Pitt entered to find George III reclined in his chair, clad in white linen "patient clothes." His unkempt beard and the marks on his neck hinted at recent treatnts, leaving him looking weary.
Pitt bowed deeply. "Your Majesty."
The King waved a hand, indicating the chair to his left. "Sit. You're here about the London gas streetlamp issue?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"What is your plan?"
Pitt hesitated before explaining the situation, particularly how banks were now being affected by the crisis.
The King sighed. "You must find funds to satisfy depositors. Under no circumstances can the first bank collapse."
If banks could weather the imdiate panic, public confidence would return within a month or two, halting the withdrawals.
But if a bank failed, the panic would spread, triggering more runs and bankruptcies.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Pitt agreed. "At least £70,000 is needed."
"Do you have a solution?" The King knew Pitt wasn't asking him for money, as the royal coffers were nearly empty.
Pitt hesitated. "Henry Hope—the Dutch banker—is still in London, though Vienna has issued a warrant for his arrest. If we hand him over to Emperor Leopold II, it would significantly improve Anglo-Austrian relations."
The King stroked his chin. "If it benefits diplomacy, proceed. But I recall he invested so of his fortune in this project. Does he have enough remaining to cover £70,000?"
"Likely not," Pitt admitted. "However, his associate, Dutch investor Van Keiwitz, also participated in the sche. We could treat him as an accomplice."
The King nodded slightly. "Once you secure the funds, how will you handle the remaining issues?"
"Last week, we found the body of the Comrcial Credit Bank's owner," Pitt said. "It was a suicide. He left a note stating he had hoped to expand his bank through the gas streetlamp project but was thwarted by technical difficulties. When he exhausted his funds, he could no longer sustain the project and chose to end his life."
The King sneered. "Do you believe that?"
"I..." Pitt hesitated before answering, "We should choose to believe it."
If the governnt endorsed the note's explanation, the scandal would have a clear scapegoat, albeit a dead one. This would provide an outlet for public anger, far better than leaving the culprits at large, which would haunt public mory for decades.
Moreover, the missing funds would have an explanation—they were all spent on the project, albeit mysteriously inflated. This reduced the financial shortfall the governnt would need to cover.
Seeing the King nod, Pitt breathed a sigh of relief and continued, "The governnt will also prosecute London Mayor Herbert and any officials involved in the project."
The King interrupted, "That won't be necessary. Herbert was deceived, as any man might be. Relieving him of his duties will suffice."
Pitt imdiately grasped the King's intent.
Herbert had almost certainly accepted bribes to award the project to the Lightning Company. If those corrupt dealings were exposed, public outrage over the gas streetlamp scandal would only intensify.
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