all thinking men,
crushed every hope of conquest. It was therefore amid a general shout of
joy that on Monday, the 1st of October, 1783, the ceremonial took place.
A vast multitude attended, and the people were delighted with the
suspension of war. The concourse was so great that Temple Bar was
opened with difficulty, and the Lord Mayor's coachman was kept one hour
before he was able to turn his vehicle. The Bank only had reason to
regret, or at least not to sympathise so freely with the public joy.
During the hurry attendant on the proclamation at the Royal Exchange,
when it may be supposed the sound of the music and the noise of the
trumpet occupied the attention of the clerk more than was beneficial for
the interests of his employers, fourteen notes of L50 each were
presented at the office and cash paid for them. The next day they were
found to be forged.

In 1783 Mathison's celebrated forgeries were committed. John Mathison
was a man of great mechanical capacity, who, becoming acquainted with an
engraver, unhappily acquired that art which ultimately proved his ruin.
A yet more dangerous qualification was his of imitating signatures with
remarkable accuracy. Tempted by the hope of sudden wealth, his first
forgeries were the notes of the Darlington Bank. This fraud was soon
discovered, and a reward being offered, with a description of his
person, he escaped to Scotland. There, scorning to let his talents lie
idle, he counterfeited the notes of the Royal Bank of Edinburgh, amused
himself by negotiating them during a pleasure excursion through the
country, and reached London, supported by his imitative talent. Here a
fine sphere opened for his genius, which was so active, that in twelve
days he had bought the copper, engraved it, fabricated notes, forged the
water-mark, printed and negotiated several. When he had a sufficient
number, he travelled from one end of the kingdom to the other, disposing
of them. Having been in the habit of procuring notes from the Bank (the
more accurately to copy them), he chanced to be there when a clerk from
the Excise Office paid in 7,000 guineas, one of which was scrupled.
Mathison, from a distance, said it was a good one; "then," said the Bank
clerk, on the trial, "I recollected him." The frequent visits of
Mathison, who was very incautious, together with other circumstances,
created some suspicion that he might be connected with those notes,
which, since his first appearance, had been