Transcriber’s Notes

The cover was created by adding text to a plain background and is placed in the public domain.

Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations in hyphenation and spelling remain unchanged except where in conflict with the index.

Page numbers have been added to the index entries for City Police, the, and for Kingston-on-Hull.

The Survey of London

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EDWARD IV. AND HIS COURTIERS.
From MS. in British Museum. Royal 15 E4.

MEDIÆVAL
LONDON

VOL. I
HISTORICAL & SOCIAL

BY
SIR WALTER BESANT

LONDON
ADAM & CHARLES BLACK
1906

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

[PART I]
MEDIÆVAL SOVEREIGNS

[CHAPTER I]
HENRY II

[In considering the reigning Kings in order, I have found it necessary to reserve for the chapters on the Mediæval Government of the City the Charters successively granted to the Citizens, and their meaning.]

HENRY II. (1133-1189)
From his effigy at Fontevrault.

The accession of the young King, then only three-and-twenty years of age, brought to the City as well as to the Country, a welcome period of rest and peace and prosperity. These precious gifts were secured by the ceaseless watchfulness of the King, whose itinerary shows that he was a most unwearied traveller, with a determined purpose and a bulldog tenacity. From the outset he gave the whole nation, barons and burgesses, to understand that he meant to be King. To begin with, he ordered all aliens to depart. The land and the City were full of them; they were known by their gait as well as their speech; the good people of London looked about the streets, the day after the proclamation of exile, for these unwelcome guests, whose violence they had endured so long. They were gone “as though they had been phantoms,” Holinshed writes. During his long reign, 1154-1189, Henry, who seldom stayed in one place more than a few days, was in London or Westminster on twenty-seven occasions, but in many of them for a day or two only. These occasions were in March 1155; in April 1157; in March, July, and October 1163; in April and September 1164; in September and October 1165; in April and June 1170; in July 1174; in May, August, and October 1175; in March and May 1176; in March and April 1177; in July 1178; in August, November, and December 1186; in March 1185; in June 1186, and in June 1188. And all these visits together amounted to less than three months in thirty-five years. We may note that Henry held his first Christmas at Bermondsey, not at Westminster. One asks in vain what reason there was for holding the Court at a monastic house in the middle of a marsh, much more difficult of access than that of Westminster. It was here that it was decided that the Flemings, who had flocked over during the last reign, should leave the country. Among them was William of Ypres whom Stephen had made Earl of Kent. We hear very little of the King’s personal relations with the citizens, by whom he was respected as befits one of whom it is written that he was “pitiful to the poor, liberal to all men, that he took of his subjects but seldom times any great tributes, and, further, that he was careful above all things to have the laws duly executed and justice uprightly administered on all hands.”

In the year 1170 Henry II. had his eldest son Henry crowned King; but the “Young King,” as he was called, never lived to occupy his father’s place; after a career of rebellion he died of a fever in 1183.

Henry’s Charter gave the citizens privileges and liberties as large as those granted by Henry I.—with one or two important exceptions. The opening clause in the former Charter was as follows:—

“Know ye that I have granted to my citizens of London to hold Middlesex to farm for three hundred pounds upon accompt to them and their heirs: so that the said citizens shall place as sheriff whomsoever they will of themselves: and as Justiciar whomsoever they will of themselves, for keeping of the pleas of the crown, and of the pleadings of the same, and none other shall be justice over the same men of London.”

Except for a few years in the twelfth century the sheriffs were always elected by the Crown. In the reign of Stephen the citizens are said to have bought the right of electing their sheriffs. The omission of so important a clause indicates the policy of the King. It was his intention to bring the City under the direct supervision of the Crown. He therefore retained the appointment of the sheriff in his own hands; he calls him “my sheriff,” meus Vicecomes; and it was so kept by himself and his successor Richard the First. When John restored to the City the election of the sheriff, the post had lost much of its importance because the communal system of municipal government had been introduced under a mayor. Thanks mainly to the strong hand of the King, who enforced peace and order throughout the country, the prosperity of London greatly increased during his reign. As yet the City was governed by its aristocracy, the aldermen of the wards, which were at first manors or private estates. They endeavoured to rule the City as a baron ruled his people each in his own ward: there was, however, the Folk Mote to be reckoned with. The people understood what was meant by meeting and by open discussion: the right of combination was but a corollary.

It is at this time that we first hear of the licences of guilds. We may take it as a sign of prosperity when men of the same craft begin to unite themselves into corporate bodies, and to form rules for the common interest.

In the year 1180 it is recorded that a number of Guilds formed without licence were fined:—

“The Gild whereof Gosceline was Alderman or President, thirty marks; Gilda Aurifabrorum, or Goldsmiths, Radulphus Flael, Alderman, forty-five marks; Gilda de Holiwell, Henry son of Godr. Alderman, twenty shillings; Gilda Bocheiorum, William la Feite, Alderman, one mark; Gilda de Ponte Thomas Cocus, Alderman, one mark; Gilda Piperariorum, Edward——, Alderman, sixteen marks; Gilda de Ponte, Alwin Fink, Alderman, fifteen marks; Gilda Panariorum, John Maurus, Alderman, one mark; Robert Rochefolet, his Gild, one mark; Richard Thedr. Feltrarius, Alderman, two marks; Gilda de Sancto Lazaro, Radulph de Barre, Alderman, twenty-five marks; Gilda de Ponte, Robert de Bosio, Alderman, ten marks; Gilda Peregrinorum, Warner le Turner, Alderman, forty shillings; Odo Vigil, Alderman, his Gild, one mark; Hugo Leo, Alderman, his Gild, one mark; and Gilda de Ponte, Peter, son of Alan, Alderman, fifteen marks.” (Maitland, vol. i. p. 53.)

CORONATION OF THE “YOUNG KING”
From Vie de St. Thomas (a French MS., 1230-1260).

If there were unlicensed guilds, there must have been licensed guilds. Unfortunately it is not known how many, or of what kind, these were. Among them, however, was the important and powerful Guild of Weavers, who were at that time to London what the “drapiers” were to Ypres in Flanders. (See p. 201.)

It is sufficient to note the claim of the King to license every guild. As for the fining of the unlicensed guild, since the business of a guild is the regulation of trade, one would like to know how trade was regulated when there was no guild. But enough of this matter for the present.

In this reign occurs an early instance of heresy obstinate unto death. The heretics came over from Germany. There were thirty of them, men and women. They called themselves Publicans; one of them, their leader, Gerard, had some learning: the rest were ignorant. They derided matrimony, the Sacraments of Baptism, the Lord’s Supper, and other articles. Being brought before the King, they were pressed with Scripture, “but stuck manfully to their faith and refused to be convinced.” It was therefore ordered that they should be burned with a hot iron on the forehead, and the leader on the chin as well, that they should be whipped, that they should be thrust out into the fields and that none should give them food, or fire, or lodging; which was done, the sufferers singing all the time, “Blessed are ye when men do hate you”—and so they went out into the open country, where they all died of cold and starvation. A pitiful story!

Here is a strange story told by Stow. It is a good deal amplified from that given by Roger of Hoveden, but perhaps Stow obtained more material from other authorities also:—

“A brother of the Earle Ferrers was in the night privily slayne at London, which when the King understoode, he sware that he would bee avenged on the Citizens: for it was then a common practice in the Citie, and an hundred or more in a company of young and old, would make nightly invasions upon the houses of the wealthie, to the intent to robbe them, and if they found any man stirring in the Citie within the night, they would presently murther him, in so much, that when night was come, no man durst adventure to walke in the Streetes. When this had continued long, it fortuned that a crewe of young and wealthy Cittizens assembling together in the night, assaulted a stone house of a certaine rich manne, and breaking through the wall, the good man of that house having prepared himselfe with other in a corner, when he perceived one of the Theeves named Andrew Bucquinte to leade the way, with a burning brand in the one hand and a pot of coales in the other, whiche he assayed to kindle with the brande, hee flew upon him, and smote off his right hande, and then with a lowde voyce cryed Theeves, at the hearing whereof the Theeves tooke their flight, all saving hee that had lost his hande, whom the good man in the next morning delivered to Richarde de Lucy the King’s Justice. This Theefe uppon warrant of his life, appeached his confederates, of whome many were taken, and many were fled, but among the rest that were apprehended, a certaine Citizen of great countenance, credite, and wealth, surnamed Iohn the olde,[1] when he could not acquite himselfe by the Watardome, offered the King for his life five hundred Marks, but the King commanded that he shoulde be hanged, which was done, and the Citie became more quiet.” (Howe’s edition of Stow’s Chronicles, p. 153.)

Here, then, is a case in which the ordeal by water was thought to prove a man’s guilt. In another place will be found described the method of the ordeal by water. What happened was, of course, that the unfortunate man’s arm was scalded. However, the City became quiet, which was some gain.

In the year 1164 London Bridge was “new made of timber” by Peter of Colechurch, who afterwards built it of stone.

In the year 1176 the stone bridge over the river was commenced. It was not completed until 1209, after the death of the architect.

Henry I. had punished the moneyers for their base coin. Henry II. also had to punish them for the same offence, but he chose a method perhaps more effective. He fined them.

BECKET DISPUTING WITH THE KING
From MS. in British Museum—Claudius D2 (Cotton).

The relations of Thomas à Becket with the King: their friendship and their quarrels and the tragic end of the Archbishop, belong to the history of the country. It does concern this book, however, that Thomas was by birth a Londoner. His father, Gilbert, whose family came from Caen, was a citizen of good position, chief magistrate, or portreeve, in the reign of Stephen. Gilbert Becket was remembered in the City not only by the history of his illustrious son, but by the fact that it was he who built the chapel in the Pardon Churchyard, on the north side of St. Paul’s, a place where many persons of honour were buried. It was ever the mediæval custom to make one place more sacred than another, so that if it was a blessed thing to be buried in a certain church, it was more blessed to lie in front of the altar. The old story about Gilbert’s wife being a Syrian is repeated by the historians, and is very possibly true. Holinshed says she was a “Saracen by religion,” which is certainly not true. Thomas Becket was born in wedlock; his father was certainly not married to a Mohammedan, and the birthplace of the future martyr was in a house on the site of the present Mercers’ Chapel, which itself stands on the site of the chapel of St. Thomas of Acon.

Gilbert Becket died leaving behind him a considerable property in houses and lands. Whether the archbishop took possession of this property as his father’s son, or whether he gave it to his sister, I do not know. Certain it is that after his death his sister Agnes, then married to Thomas Fitz Theobald de Heiley, gave the whole of the family estates to endow a Hospital dedicated to her brother Saint and Martyr. Nothing should be kept back: all—all must be given: one sees the intensity of affection, sorrow, pride, with which the new Saint was regarded by his family. There could be no worshipper at the altar of St. Thomas à Becket more devout than his own sister. (See also p. 278.)

GREAT SEAL OF HENRY II.

[CHAPTER II]
RICHARD I

The coronation of King Richard on September 3, 1189, was disgraced by a massacre of the Jews—the first example of anti-Jewish feeling. Perhaps when they first came over these unfortunate people hoped that no traditional hatred of the race existed in England. Experience, alas! might have taught them, perhaps had taught them, that hatred grew up round the footsteps of the Infidel as quickly as the thistles in the field. When the Jew arrived in England what could he do? He could not trade because the merchants had their guilds; and every guild had its church, its saint, its priests, its holy days. He could not hold land because every acre had its own lord, and could only be transferred by an Act including a declaration of faith; he could not become a lawyer or a physician because the avenues to these professions lay also through the Church. Did a man wish to build a bridge, he must belong to the Holy Brotherhood of Bridge-Builders—Pontifices. Was an architect wanted, he was looked for in a Monastery. The scholars, the physicians, the artists were men of the cloister. Even the minstrels, gleemen, jugglers, tumblers, dancers, buffoons, and mimes, though the Church did not bless their calling, would have scorned to suffer a Jew among them. That was the position of the Jew. Every calling closed to him, every door shut. There was, however, one way open, but a way of contempt, a way accursed by the Church, a way held impossible to the Christian. He might practise usury. The lending of money for profit was absolutely forbidden by the Church. He who carried on this business was accounted as excommunicated. If he died while carrying it on, his goods were forfeited and fell to the Crown. In the matter of usury the Church had always been firm and consistent. The Church, through one or two of the Fathers, had even denounced trade. St. Augustine plainly said that in selling goods no addition was to be made to the price for which they were bought, a method which if carried out would destroy all trade except barter. So that while the usurer was accursed by the Church, to the King he became a large and very valuable asset. Every Jew who became rich, by his death enriched the King. It was calculated (see Joseph Jacobs, The Jews of Angevin England) that the Jews contributed every year one-twelfth of the King’s revenues. The interest charged by the usurer was in those days enormously high, forty per cent and even more: so that it is easy to understand how rich a Jew might become and how strong would be the temptation to squeeze him.

FIRST SEAL OF RICHARD I.

As for the hatred of the people for the Jews, I think that it had nothing whatever to do with their money-lending, for the simple reason that they had no dealings with them. The common people never borrowed money of the Jews, because they had no security to offer and no want of money except for their daily bread. Those who borrowed of the Jews were the Barons, who strengthened or repaired or rebuilt their castles; the Bishop, who wanted to carry on his cathedral or to build a church; the Abbot, who had works to execute upon the monastery estates, or a church to beautify. The great Lords of the Church and the Realm were the borrowers; and we do not find that they murdered the Jews. The popular hatred was purely religious. The Jew was an unbeliever: when no one was looking at him he spat upon the Cross; when he dared he kidnapped children and crucified them; he it was who crucified our Lord, and would do so again if he could. Why, the King was going off to the East to kill infidels, and here were infidels at home. Why not begin by killing them first? So the people reasoned, quite logically, on these premisses.

To return to the coronation of Richard I. For fear of magic it was ordered that no Jew and no woman should be allowed admission to the Abbey Church during the function. Unfortunately, the Jews, hoping to conciliate the new Sovereign with gifts, assembled outside the gates and endeavoured to gain admission. It was always characteristic of the Jews, especially in times of persecution, that they never in the least understood the intensity of hatred with which they were regarded by the world. One would think that on such an occasion common prudence would have kept them at home. Not so, they endeavoured to force their way into the Hall during the Coronation Banquet, but they were roughly driven back, and the rumour ran that the King had ordered them to be put to death; so they were cudgelled, stoned, struck with knives, chased to their houses, which were then set on fire. From mid-day till two of the clock on the following day the mob continued to murder, to pillage, and to destroy.

It is noted that at Richard’s Coronation Banquet the Chief Magistrate of London, not yet Mayor, officiated as Butler, an office claimed in the following reigns from that precedent.

When Richard prepared for his Crusade he ordered the City to furnish a certain quantity of armour, spears, knives, tents, etc., for the use of his army, together with wine, silken habits, and other things for his own use.

On the departure of Richard for Palestine his Chancellor, William Longchamp, Bishop of Ely, took up his residence in the Tower. Power turned his head; he acted like one whose position is safe, and authority unbounded. He annoyed the citizens by constructing a moat round the Tower, and by including within the external wall of the Tower a piece of land here and another there, a mill which belonged to St. Katherine’s Hospital, and a garden belonging to the City. He offended the Bishops by seizing his brother Regent, Bishop Pudsey; and the Barons by insulting Geoffrey, Archbishop of York, the son of Fair Rosamond. Thereafter, when John, at the head of a large army, summoned him to justify himself at Reading, Longchamp closed the gates of the Tower.

John proceeded to ascertain the disposition of the leading citizens of London. On the one hand Longchamp was the representative of the King, appointed by the King, to whom obedience was due. On the other hand, he had exasperated the citizens beyond endurance. They were ready—but with exceptions—to transfer their allegiance to John—always as the King’s representative. And here they saw their opportunity for making terms with John to their own advantage. Why not ask for the Commune? They did so. They made the granting of the Commune the condition of John’s admission into the City, and therefore of Longchamp’s disgrace. Should John refuse they would close their gates and support the Chancellor. But John accepted.

He rode from Reading into London accompanied by the Archbishop of Rouen and a great number of Bishops, Earls, and Barons. He was met by the citizens. The gates were thrown open; and John’s army sat down to besiege the Tower from the City and from the outside. This done, he called a council in the Chapel House of St. Paul’s and there solemnly conceded the Commune, upon which the citizens took oath of obedience to him, subject to the rights of the King. The meaning of this concession will be found more fully considered later on. At present it is sufficient to observe that it was followed by the election of the first Mayor of London: that other towns hastened to get the same recognition: and that the Commune, though never formally withdrawn by Richard himself, was never allowed by him.

Two Charters were granted to the City by Richard. The first, dated April 23, 1194, was an exact copy of his father’s Charter, with the same omission as to the election of Sheriff and Justiciar. It is not addressed to the Mayor, because Richard never recognised that office, but, as the Charter of Henry II. and that of Henry I., “To the Archbishops, Bishops, Abbots, Earls, Barons, Justices, Sheriffs, Ministers, and all others his faithful Friends and English people.”

The second Charter of July 14, 1197, authorised the removal of all weirs in the River: “For it is manifest to us ... that great determent and discommodity have grown to our City of London and also to the whole realm by reason of the said wears.”

We now arrive at the first intimation of an articulate discontent among the people. In all times those “who have not” regard those “who have” with envy and disfavour; from time to time, generally when the conditions of society seem to make partition possible, this hatred shows itself openly. In the year 1195, there first arose among the people a leader who became the voice of their discontent: he flourished for a while upon their favour; in the end he met with the usual fate of those who rely upon the gratitude and the support of the people. (See vol. ii. pt. i. ch. vi.)

In the year 1198 the Sheriffs of London and Middlesex were ordered by the King to provide standards of weight, length, and measures to be sent into all the Counties.

Richard was received by the City, on his return from captivity, with the greatest show of rejoicing; the houses being so decorated as to move the astonishment of the “Lords of Almaine” who rode with the King.

CROSS OF KNIGHT
TEMPLAR

“When they saw the great riches,” Holinshed writes, “which the Londoners shewed in that triumphant receiuing of their souereigne lord and king, they maruelled greatlie thereat, insomuch that one of them said unto him:‘Surelie, oh King, your people are wise and subtile, which doo nothing doubt to shew the beautiful shine of their riches now that they have receiued you home, whereas before they seemed to bewaile their need and povertie, whilest you remained in captiuitie. For verelie if the emperor had understood that the riches of the realme had bin such, neither would he have beene persuaded that England could have been made bare of wealth, neither yet should you so lightlie have escaped his hands without the paiment of a more huge and intollerable ransome.’” (Vol. iii. p. 142, 1586 edition.)

The whole period of Richard’s residence in London, or, indeed, in England, was limited to a few weeks after his coronation and a few weeks after his return from captivity.

[CHAPTER III]
JOHN

John granted five Charters to the City.

By the first of these Charters, June 17, 1199, he confirmed the City in the liberties which they had enjoyed under King Henry II.

KING JOHN (1167(?)-1216)
From the effigy in Worcester Cathedral.

By the third Charter, July 5, 1199, he went farther: he gave back to the citizens the rights they had obtained from Henry I., viz. the farm of Middlesex for a payment of £300 sterling every year, and the right of electing their own sheriffs. This seemed a great concession, but was not in reality very great, for the existence of a Mayor somewhat lessened the importance of the Sheriffs.

The second Charter confirmed previous laws as to the conservation of the Thames and its Fisheries.

The fourth Charter, March 20, 1202, disfranchised the Weavers’ Guild.

The fifth Charter, May 9, 1215, granted the right of the City to appoint a Mayor. Now there had been already a Mayor for many years, but he had not been formally recognised by the King, and this Charter recognised his existence. The right involved the establishment of the Commune, that is to say, the association of all the burghers alike for the purpose of protecting their common interests. It was no longer, for instance, the Merchant Guild which regulated trade as a whole; nor an association of Trade Guilds: nor was it an association of City Barons: nor was it a tribunal of Justice: it was simply the association of the burghers as a body.

We are now, however, approaching that period of the City History in which was carried on the long struggle between the aristocratic party and the crafts for power. In this place it is only necessary to indicate the beginning of the strife. The parties were first the Barons and Aldermen, owners of the City manors; secondly, the merchants, some of whom belonged to the City aristocracy; and, lastly, the craft. The Chief Magistrate of the Commune held a position of great power and importance. It was necessary for the various parties to endeavour to secure this post for a man of their own side.

HENRY FITZAILWYN, KNT., FIRST LORD MAYOR OF LONDON
From an old print.

The disfranchisement of the weavers certainly marks a point of importance in this conflict. It shows that the aristocratic party was for the time victorious. The Weavers’ Guild, as we have seen, had become very powerful. Their Guild united in itself all the tradesmen belonging to the manufacture, or the use, of textile fabrics; such as weavers, clothmakers, shearmen, fullers, cloth merchants, tailors, drapers, linen armourers, hosiers, and others, forming a body powerful by numbers, wealth, and organisation. To break up this body was equivalent to destroying the power of the crafts for a long time.

The domestic incidents of the City during this reign are not of great importance.

A very curious story occurs in the year 1209. The King’s Purveyor bought in the City a certain quantity of corn. The two Sheriffs, Roger Winchester and Edmund Hardell, refused to allow him to carry it off. King John, who was never remarkable for meekness, flew into a royal rage on this being reported to him, and ordered the Council of the City to degrade and imprison the said Sheriffs—which was done. But the Council sent a deputation to the King, then staying at Langley, to intercede for the Sheriffs. Their conduct, it was explained, was forced upon them. Had they not stopped the carrying off of the corn there would have been an insurrection which might have proved dangerous. This makes us wonder if the Commonalty resented the sending of corn out of the City? If so, why? Or was there some other reason for preventing it?

After the King’s return from his Irish expedition the Parliament or Council held at St Bride’s, Fleet Street, took place. John wanted money. He insisted on taking it, not from the City but from the Religious Houses. It was an act worthy of an Angevin. The fact, and the way of achieving the fact, are thus narrated by Holinshed:—

“From hence he made hast to London, and at his comming thither, tooke counsell how to recover the great charges and expenses that he had beene at in this journey and by the advice of William Brewer, Robert de Turnham, Reignold de Cornhill, and Richard de Marish, he caused all the cheefe prelats of England to assemble before him at St. Bride’s in London. So that thither came all the Abbats, Abbesses, Templars, Hospitallers, keepers of farmes and possessions of the order of Clugnie, and other such forreners as had lands within this realme belonging to their houses. All which were constreined to paie such a greevous tax, that the whole amounted to the summe of an hundred thousand pounds. The moonks of the Cisteaux order, otherwise called White Moonks, were constreined to paie 40 thousand pounds of silver at this time, all their privileges to the contrarie notwithstanding. Moreover, the abbats of that order might not get licence to go their generall chapter that yeere, which yeerelie was used to be holden, least their complaint should moove all the world against the king, for his too too hard and severe handling of them.” (Holinshed, vol. iii. p. 174, 1586 edition.)

This act of spoliation belonged to the period of the six years’ Interdict. The Interdict was pronounced on Passion Sunday, March 23, 1208, “which,” says Roger of Wendover, “since it was expressed to be by authority of our Lord the Pope, was inviolably observed by all without regard of persons or privileges. Therefore, all church services ceased to be performed in England, with the exception only of confession; the viaticum in cases of extremity; and the baptism of children: the bodies of the dead, too, were carried out of cities and towns, and buried in roads and ditches without prayers or the attendance of priests.”

KING JOHN HUNTING
From MS. in British Museum—Claudius D2 (Cotton).

At the beginning of the Interdict, the solemn silence of the church bells, the closing of the church gates, the cessation of all religious rites at a time when nothing was done without religion taking her part, struck terror into the minds of all folk. But as time went on and the people became accustomed to live without religion, this terror wore itself away. One understands very plainly that an Interdict too long maintained and too rigorously carried out might result in the destruction of religion itself. We must also remember, first, that the Interdict was in many places only partially observed, and in other places was not observed at all. Some of the Bishops remained on the King’s side; some of the clergy were rewarded for disobeying the Interdict. And in London and elsewhere there were relaxations. Thus, marriages and churchings took place at church doors; children were baptized in the church; offerings might be made at the altar: in the Monastic Houses the canonical hours were observed, but there was no singing. In a word, though the close connection of religious observances with the daily life made the Interdict grievous, there can be no doubt that its burden was felt less and less the longer it was maintained. Moreover, the King afforded the City a proof that the longer the Interdict lasted the richer and more powerful he would become: a fact which would certainly weaken the terror of the Church, while it might make the King’s subjects uneasy as to their liberties; for John confiscated all the property of the Church that he could lay his hands upon. “The King’s agents,” says Roger of Wendover, “converted the property of the Bishops to the King’s use, giving them only a scanty allowance of food and clothing out of their own property. The coin of the clergy was everywhere locked up and distrained for the benefit of the revenue: the concubines of the priests and clerks were taken by the King’s servants and compelled to ransom themselves at great expense. Religious men and other persons ordained, of any kind, when found travelling on the road, were dragged from their horses, robbed, and basely ill-treated by the satellites of the King, and no one could do them justice. About that time the servants of a certain sheriff on the confines of Wales came to the King, bringing in their custody a robber with his hands tied behind him, who had robbed and murdered a priest on the road: and on their asking the King what it was his pleasure should be done to the robber in such a case, the King immediately answered,‘He hath slain an enemy of mine. Release him, and let him go!’”

In the year 1210 the Town Ditch was dug for the greater strengthening of the City.

A PORTION OF THE GREAT CHARTER
From the copy of original in British Museum. Rischgitz Collection.

A larger image is available [here].

In 1213 the Standard Bearer of the City, Robert FitzWalter, one of the malcontent Barons, fled to France rather than give a security of his fidelity to John the King, whereupon John ordered his castle—Baynard’s Castle—to be destroyed. This castle stood at the angle in the junction of Thames and Fleet. The second Baynard’s Castle, erected by the Duke of Gloucester, was some little distance to the east, also on the bank of the river.

The leader of the Barons was this Robert FitzWalter, “Marshal of the Army of God and of Holy Church.” He was Castellain of London, Chief Banneret of the City, Baron of Dunmow, owner of Baynard’s Castle, and of a soke which now forms the parish of St. Andrew by the Wardrobe. As Castellain and Banneret it was his duty to direct the execution of traitors by drowning in the Thames. At the Court of Husting his place was on the right hand of the Mayor. In time of war the Castellain proceeded to the western gate of St. Paul’s, attended by nineteen knights mounted and armed, his banner borne before him. The Mayor and Aldermen came forth to meet him, all in arms, the Mayor carrying the City banner, which he placed in FitzWalter’s hands, at the same time giving him a charger fully caparisoned valued at £20. A sum of £20 was also given to FitzWalter for his expenses. The Mote bell was then rung, and the whole party rode to the Priory of the Holy Trinity, there to concert measures for the defence of the City.

The events which led to the concession of Magna Charta belong to the history of the country. But the part played by London in this memorable event must not be passed over.

The Barons, under FitzWalter, were besieging Northampton when letters arrived from certain citizens of London offering their admission into the City, no doubt on terms and conditions. The chance of getting the chief city of the country into their power was too good to be refused. A large company of soldiers took back the Barons’ answer. They were admitted within the walls secretly; according to one Chronicle, at night and by scaling the wall; according to another, by day, and on Sunday morning, the people being at mass; according to another, openly and by Aldgate. Once in the City, however, they seized and held the gates and proclaimed rebellion against the King, murdering his partisans. Then the Barons themselves entered London. From this stronghold they threatened destruction to such of the Lords as had not joined their confederacy. And for a time all government ceased; there were no pleas heard in the Courts; the Sheriffs no longer attempted to carry out their duties; no one paid tax dues, tolls, or customs. The King, at one time reduced to a personal following of half a dozen, found himself unable to make any resistance; and on the glorious June 15, 1215, Magna Charta was signed.

The Barons, who retained London by way of security, returned to the City and there remained for twelve months, but in doubt and anxiety as to what the King would do next. That he would loyally carry out his promises no one expected. He was sending ambassadors to Rome seeking the Pope’s aid; and he was living with a few attendants in the Isle of Wight, or on the sea-coast near the Cinque Ports, currying favour with the sailors.

The rest is national history. The Barons appear to have spent their time in banqueting while the King was acting. Presently they found that the King had become once more strong enough to meet them. Indeed, he attempted to besiege London, but was compelled to abandon the enterprise by the courageous bearing of the citizens, who threw open their gates and sallied forth. The Barons were excommunicated; the City was once more laid under an Interdict; these measures produced no effect, but the Barons clearly perceived that their only hope lay in setting up another king. They therefore invited Louis, son of the French King, to come over; and then John died.

To return to the grant of Magna Charta. Its effects upon the liberties of the people have been thus summarised by George Norton in his Historical Account of London:—

“This charter has become the very alphabet of the language of freedom and proverbialized in the mouths of Englishmen.... Merchants could now transact their business without being exposed to arbitrary tolls: the King’s Court for Common Pleas should no longer follow his person but be stationary in one place: that circuits should be established and held every year: and that the inferior local courts should be held only at their regular and appointed times ... that the Sheriffs should not be allowed in their districts to hold the pleas of the crown: that no aids should be demanded of the people except by consent of Parliament and in the three cases of the King’s captivity, the making his son a knight, and the marriage of his daughter. And lastly, as an object of national concern, it was expressly provided that London and all the cities and boroughs of the kingdom should preserve their ancient liberties, immunities and free customs.”

The words which Norton describes as the alphabet of freedom are the following:—

“Nullus liber homo capiatur vel imprisonetur, aut disseisiatur de libero tenemento suo, vel libertatibus, vel consuetudinibus suis, aut utlagetur aut exulet aut aliquo modo destruatur: nec super eum ibimus, nec super eum mittimus, nisi per legale judicium parium suorum vel per legem terrae. Nulli vendemus: nulli negabimus, aut differemus rectum vel Justitiam.”

[CHAPTER IV]
HENRY III

John was succeeded by his son Henry, then a boy of nine. The death of their enemy brought back the Barons to their allegiance: forty of them at once went over to the young King, the rest followed one by one. Louis was left almost alone in London with his Frenchmen. The pride and arrogance of the foreigners went far to disgust the English and inclined them to return to their loyalty. After the defeat at Lincoln, Louis found himself blockaded within the City walls, unable to get out, and, unless relief came, likely to be starved into submission. This is the second instance in history of the City being blockaded both by land and sea: the first being that siege in which Cnut brought his ships round the Bridge. The Thames was closed: the roads were closed: no provisions could be brought into the City by river or by road. And when a fleet, sent by the French King to the assistance of his son, was defeated by Hubert de Burgh off Dover, whatever chance the Prince might have had on his arrival was gone. Louis made terms. He stipulated for an amnesty for the citizens of London: on the strength of that amnesty, or as the price of it, he borrowed 5000 marks (or perhaps £1000) of them and so returned to France.

The young King was received by the citizens with the usual demonstrations of exuberant joy. Had they known what a terrible half-century awaited them, they would have been less demonstrative.

A Parliament was held at London as soon as Louis had gone: the care of the young King, whose mother had already married again, was committed to the Bishop of Winchester.

The new buildings at Westminster were commenced by the Bishop of Winchester as one of the first of Henry’s acts.

The story of the wrestling match which belongs to the year 1221 throws some light upon the internal conditions of the City. In itself it had no political significance except to show the readiness with which a mob can be raised on small provocation and the mischief which may follow. It was on St. James’s Day that sports were held in St. Giles’s Fields near the Leper Hospital. The young men of London contended with those of the “suburbs,” especially those of Westminster. Those who have witnessed a great football match in the North of England will understand the intense and passionate interest with which each “event” was followed by the mass of onlookers. A gladiatorial combat was not more warlike than the wrestling of these young men. The Londoners came out best in this match, whereupon the Steward of Westminster, according to the account, resolved upon revenge, and a very unsportsmanlike revenge he took. For he invited the young men of London to a return match. They accepted, suspecting nothing; they went unarmed to Tothill Fields, ready to renew the bloodless contest: they were received, not by wrestlers, but by armed men, who fell upon them and wounded them grievously, and so drove them back to the City. One feels that this story is incomplete, and on the face of it impossible. Holinshed’s account of what happened in consequence is as follows:—

CORONATION OF HENRY III.
From MS. in British Museum—Vitellius A. XIII.

“The citizens, sore offended to see their people so misused, rose in tumult, and rang the common bell to gather the more companies to them. Robert Serle, mayor of the Citie, would have pacified the matter, persuading them to let the injurie passe till by orderlie plaint they might get redresse, as law and justice should assigne. But a certeine stout man of the Citie named Constantine FitzArnulfe, of good authoritie amongst them, advised the multitude not to harken unto peace, but to seeke revenge out of hand (wherein he shewed himselfe so farre from true manhood, that he bewraied himselfe rather to have a woman’s heart),—

... Quod vindicta

Nemo magis gaudet quam fœmina—

still prosecuting the strife with tooth and naile, and blowing the coles of contention as it were with full bellowes, that the houses belonging to the Abbat of Westminster, and manelie the house of his steward might be overthrowne and beaten downe flat with the ground. This lewd counsell was soone received and executed by the outragious people, and Constantine himselfe being cheefe leader of them, cried with a lowd voice, ‘Mount Joy! Mount Joy! God be our aid and our sovereigne Lewes!’ This outragious part comming to the notice of Hubert de Burgh, Lord Cheefe Justice, he gat togither a power of armed men, and came to the Citie with the same, and taking inquisition of the cheefe offenders, found Constantine as constant in affirming the deed to be his, as he had before constanlie put it in practise, whereupon he was apprehended and two other citizens with him. On the next day in the morning Fouks de Brent was appointed to have them to execution: and so by the Thames he quietly led them to the place where they should suffer. Now when Constantine had the halter about his necke, he offered fifteene thousand marks of silver to have beene pardoned, but it would not be. There was hanged with him his nephew also named Constantine, and one Geffrey, who made the proclamation devised by the said Constantine.” (Holinshed, vol. iii. p. 204, 1586 edition.)

In this singular incident we perceive very plainly the existence of a French party in the City. It was only two or three years since Prince Louis had been called over: there was no love for the advisers or the guardians of the young King: the memory of John still rankled: the cries of “Mount Joy!” came from men of the French party: the party was so strong that they believed themselves certain to be respected: Constantine fully expected to be acquitted if he were tried by his peers. And the party contained some—perhaps a majority—of the wealthiest merchants, since one of them was able to offer 15,000 marks for his release, equal to £10,000, and about six times as much according to our present value. The story also enables us to understand both the exaggerated belief in their own powers entertained by the citizens of London, and the resentment with which the King would receive indication of this belief. It wanted fifty years of Henry and thirty of Edward to make the citizens lay aside the belief that king-making was one of the privileges exclusively granted to the City.

Meantime the resentment of the young King, who never forgot or forgave this affair, was shown by the arrest of many citizens on the charge of taking part in the business, and their punishment by the loss of hand, foot, or eyesight. The King also deposed all the City officers. In this way the seeds of animosity and distrust between the King and the City were sown.

In the year 1227 Henry declared himself of age. This declaration was followed by five Charters granted to the City of London.

In the first of these Charters, February 8, 1227, the King grants the citizens the Sheriffwick of London and Middlesex; all their liberties and free customs; the election of their Sheriffs, whom they are to present to the King’s Justices; but not the election of their Mayor. The second Charter, of the same date, gives them the power of electing their Mayor “every year.” It is addressed to Archbishops, Bishops, etc., and all faithful subjects; and it speaks of the King’s “Barons” in his City. The third Charter orders the removal of all weirs in the Thames and the Medway, recites the privileges granted by the Charter of King John with “all other liberties which they had in the time of Henry I.” (It is remarkable that Edward the Confessor appears no longer in Charters and in laws.) The fifth Charter, dated August 18, 1227, refers to the warren of Staines.

In 1229 came over to England Stephen, the Pope’s Nuncio, with orders to levy a tenth upon all property, spiritual or temporal, for the Pope. After much hesitation, and only to avoid excommunication, the Bishops and Abbots consented; but the temporal Lords refused, in some cases giving way when they were compelled to do so, and in others holding out. The Earl of Chester, for instance, would not allow the tax to be levied on any part of his lands or upon any priest, or Religious House. The Nuncio made himself odious, partly by his grasping demands, even taking the gold and silver chalices when there was no money; partly by the tax itself, which gave over, as it seemed, the whole country into the hands of the Pope; and partly because the Nuncio brought over with him certain “Caursines,” or Caursini, agents for the Pope, who collected the tax. These foreigners remained, and, as will be seen, increased yearly in wealth and in the detestation of the people.

In this reign, also, the country people received other lessons as to the duty of affection for the Pope by the arrival among them of foreigners intruded into their benefices from Rome; these priests knew no English and were unable to instruct the people. The troubles which arose on account of these evils belong to the history of the country.

Despite his Charters the King’s exactions grew continually more grievous. He levied a Poll Tax in the City and a Ward Tax, and after a fire which destroyed a large part of the City, he exacted a sum of £20,000. In 1231 the Jews built a synagogue “very curiously,” but the citizens, by permission of the King, obtained possession of it, and caused it, humorously, to be dedicated to the Virgin Mary. About the same time the King built “a fair church adjoining thereto in the City of London near the old temple,” e.g. the Domus Conversorum or House of Converts. Stow says that there were a great many converts who were baptized and instructed in the laws of Christ and “did live laudably under a learned man appointed to govern them.” The “fair church” was the Rolls Chapel, wantonly destroyed in the year 1896.

The Chronicles of this date contain a great deal of information about the weather. I have not thought it necessary to note the hard frosts, the high tides, and the storms, which were remarked in London and elsewhere. The weather seems to have been much the same at all times in this country. Now and then a storm more than commonly severe is experienced. For instance, on January 25, 1230, while the Bishop was celebrating High Mass in St. Paul’s, there arose a terrible storm of thunder and lightning, and so dreadful a “savour and stinke withal” that a panic seized the people and they rushed out of the church headlong, falling over each other, priests and choristers and all, saving only the Bishop and one deacon. When the storm passed away, they all went back again, and the Bishop continued the Mass. In 1233 there was a wet summer with floods in all parts of the country and a bad harvest. We are not yet out of the age of prodigies and miracles and monsters. Four suns appeared in the sky at the same time, together with a great circle of crystalline colour; and in the South of England two dragons were seen fighting in the air until one overcame the other, when both plunged into the sea. In the North of England and also in Ireland bodies of armed men sprang out of the ground and fought in battle array and then sank into the ground again. To show that this was no mere apparition the ground was trodden down where they had fought. And once a strange star appeared with a flaming tail. What could these prodigies portend?

In the year 1236 the City received the new Queen with every outward sign of welcome, and, unfortunately for themselves, of wealth. What was Eleanor of Provence, what was the young King, to think of the resources of the city which could receive them with so brave a show? Thus writes Stow concerning this Riding:—

“The cittie was adorned with silkes, and in the night with lampes, cressets, and other lights without number, besides many pageants and strange devices which were shewed. The citizens rode to meete the king and queene, beeing clothed in long garmentes embrodered about with golde and silke of divers colours, their horses finely trapped in arraie to the number of three hundred and sixty, every man bearing golden or silver cuppes in their hands, and the king’s trumpeters before them sounding. The citizens of London did minister wine as butlers.” (Howe’s edition of Stow’s Chronicles, p. 184.)

In the year 1236 water was first brought into the City by pipes from the Tyburn, or from wells or springs in the district called Tyburn, now Marylebone. These pipes were of lead and discharged the water into cisterns which were afterwards castellated with stone. The most important of them was that in Chepe: there were in all, when other pipes had been laid down, nineteen conduits: and it became the custom, once a year, for the Mayor and Aldermen to ride out in order to inspect the Heads from which the conduits were supplied, after which they were wont to hunt a hare before dinner and a fox after dinner in the fields about Marylebone.

In the year 1238 a singular procession passed out of St. Paul’s Cathedral along Fleet Street and the Strand as far as Durham House, then the palace of the Legate. The procession consisted of a large body of ecclesiastics, Doctors in Divinity and Law, followed (or preceded) by a company of young men: they were ungirded, without gown, bareheaded and barefooted. There were the Heads of Houses, the Master and Students of the University of Oxford headed by Ado de Kilkenny, Standard Bearer to the scholars: they were on their way to pray the Legate’s pardon for a late lamentable outbreak in Oxford. It began with an Irish undergraduate, who went into the Legate’s kitchen to beg for food. The cook in reply took up a pot filled with hot broth and threw it in his face. A Welsh student, also come on the same errand, was so exasperated at the sight of the outrage that he killed the cook, there and then. After which the students rose in a body and attacked the house. The Legate fled for his life, taking refuge in a church steeple whence he escaped under cover of the night. As soon as he was safe he interdicted the University, and excommunicated all concerned in the riot. But on their submission he granted his forgiveness and removed the Interdict.

In 1250 the King sent for the principal citizens, and assured them that he would no longer oppress them by taxation. This promise was never meant to be kept. On a frivolous complaint of Richard, the King’s brother, the City liberties were seized and a custos appointed, who remained in office until the City had paid a fine of six hundred marks. Five hundred more were demanded for a new charter by which the incoming Mayor might be presented to the Barons of the Exchequer every year instead of the King. The old jealousy with which the citizens looked upon the Tower was about this time revived and strengthened by the erection of a wall round the Tower. Longchamp had made the ditch, but his work remained incomplete. Henry resolved to carry it on and to make an independent fortress surrounded by its own walls and having its own communications with the river and the country outside. The citizens looked upon the rise of this wall with suspicion and misgiving. Before the work was completed the wall fell down. It was put up again, and again it fell down, to the great joy of the people, who looked upon it as a direct intervention of Heaven on their behalf. That this was really the case was proved by a story which ran about the City that the overthrow of the wall was done by St. Thomas à Becket himself.

“A vision appeared by night to a certain priest, a wise and holy man, wherein an archprelate, dressed in pontifical robes, and carrying a cross in his hand, came to the walls which the King had at that time built near the Tower of London, and, after regarding them with a scowling look, struck them strongly and violently with the cross, saying, ‘Why do ye rebuild them?’ Whereupon the newly-erected walls suddenly fell to the ground, as if thrown down by an earthquake. The priest, frightened at this sight, said to a clerk who appeared following the archprelate, ‘Who is this archbishop?’ to which the clerk replied, ‘It is St. Thomas the martyr, a Londoner by birth, who considered that these walls were built as an insult, and to the prejudice of the Londoners, and has therefore irreparably destroyed them.’ The priest then said, ‘What expense and builders’ labour have they not cost.’ The clerk replied,‘If poor artificers, who seek after and have need of pay, had obtained food for themselves by the work, that would be endurable; but inasmuch as they have been built, not for the defence of the kingdom, but only to oppress harmless citizens, if St. Thomas had not destroyed them, St. Edmund the Confessor and his successor would still more relentlessly have overthrown them from their foundations.’ The priest, after having seen these things, awoke from his sleep, rose from his bed, and in the dead silence of the night told his vision to all who were in the house. Early in the morning a report spread through the city of London that the walls built round the Tower, on the construction of which the King had expended more than twelve thousand marks, had fallen to pieces, to the wonder of many, who proclaimed it a bad omen, because the year before, on the same night, which was that of St. George’s day, and at the same hour of the night, the said walls had fallen down, together with their bastions. The citizens of London, although astonished at this event, were not sorry for it; for these walls were to them as a thorn in their eyes, and they had heard the taunts of the people who said that these walls had been built as an insult to them, and that if any one of them should dare to contend for the liberty of the City, he would be shut up in them, and consigned to imprisonment; and in order that, if several were to be imprisoned, they might be confined in several different prisons, a great number of cells were constructed in them apart from one another, that one person might not have communication with another.” (Matthew Paris.)

The wealth of the Jews—or at least of one Jew—is shown by the exactions of the King from Aaron of York. He made this man—one of “his” Jews—pay him the sum of 14,000 marks for himself and 10,000 marks for the Queen. He had before this made the unfortunate Aaron give him 3000 marks besides 200 marks of gold for the Queen, in all about 60,000 marks or £40,000, which in our money would be equal to about half a million sterling. In 1252 the King seized the half of all the property possessed by the Jews. But there was worse trouble for the Jews than mere plunder. In 1225 the Jews of Norwich were thrown into prison on a charge of circumcising a boy with the intention of crucifying him at Easter. They were accused, convicted, and “punished”—hanged or burned. In 1255 one hundred and forty-three Jews were brought to Westminster charged with crucifying a child named Hugh de Lincoln. Eighteen of them were hanged; the rest were kept in prison a long time. In 1239 they were accused of a murder “secretly committed,” and were glad to escape with the loss of the third part of their property. The Pope’s Nuncio, Stephen, was succeeded by one Martin, who carried on the same exactions, regardless of murmurs and threats. The King was persuaded to hold an inquiry into the number and value of the benefices held by foreigners preferred by the Pope. The annual value was found to be 60,000 marks, or £40,000, an enormous sum at that time. The detention of a messenger with letters from the Pope to his Nuncio, brought the matter to a head. On an occasion when a large number of lords, knights, and gentlemen met together at Dunstable, they united in sending a message to Martin that he must quit the kingdom. He was then residing in the Temple. The story shows the exasperation of the people and the helplessness of the King, whose authority was thus usurped:—

JEWS’ PASSOVER
From a missal of the fifteenth century.

“Maister Martine hearing this, got him to the court, and declaring to the king what message he had received, required to understand whether he was privie to the matter, or that his people tooke it upon them so rashlie without his authoritie or no? To whome the king answered, that he had not given them any authoritie so to command him out of the realme; but indeed (saith he) my barons doo scarselie forbeare to rise against me, bicause I have maintained and suffered thy pilling and injurious polling within this my realme, and I have had much adoo to staie them from running upon thee to pull thee in peeces. Maister Martine hearing these words, with a fearfull voice besought the king that he might for the love of God, and reverence of the pope, have free passage out of the realme; to whome the king in great displeasure answered, ‘The divill that brought thee in carrie thee out, even to the pit of hell for me.’ Howbeit, at length, when those that were about the king had pacified him, he appointed one of the marshals of his house, called Robert North or Nores, to conduct him to the sea side, and so he did, but not without great feare, sithens he was afraid of everie bush, least men should have risen upon him and murthered him. Whereupon when he came to the pope, he made a greevious complaint both against the king and others.” (Holinshed, vol. iii. p. 237, 1586 edition.)

After a futile remonstrance with the Pope, the Barons and Lords resolved that they would pay no more tribute to Rome. The Pope therefore ordered the Bishops to set their seals to the Charter by which John had consented to the tribute. This they did, whereupon the King, who was always strong in words, swore that so long as he should live no tribute should be paid to Rome. The position of the country towards the Pope was considered at a Parliament called in London in Lent 1246. As regards London, it is sufficient to note the quarrel and to remember that the attitude of the country, three hundred years before the Reformation, was thus hostile to the claims of the Pope.

In the year 1241 took place the election of Boniface, Bishop Elect of Basle, and uncle of the Queen, as Archbishop of Canterbury. This election was the greatest and the worst of the many intrusions of foreigners into English offices. Matthew Paris tells the story of the election:—

“The monks of Canterbury, then, finding that the Pope and the King indulged them by turns, and mutually assented to each other’s requests, after invoking the grace of the Holy Spirit and the King’s favour, elected as the pastor of their souls, Boniface, bishop elect of Basle, and an uncle of the Lady Eleanor, the illustrious Queen of England, yet entirely unknown to the aforesaid monks, as regarded his knowledge, morals, or age, and (as was stated) totally incompetent, compared with the archbishops his predecessors, for such a dignified station. They however elected him, on this consideration, namely, that, if they had elected any one else, the King, who obtained the favour of the Pope in everything, would invent some grounds of objections, and reject and annul the election. And in order that the Pope might not reject the bishop elect as incompetent, or rather that he might appear competent and fit for such a high dignity, the King, who endeavoured by all the means in his power to promote the cause and raise the fame of the said Boniface, now elected or about to be elected, ordered a paper to be drawn up, in which the person of the said Boniface was praised beyond measure, and in evidence of the truth of it appended his royal seal to the said writing. He then sent it to the bishops and abbats, enjoining or imperiously begging them to set their seals also to it, and to bear evidence to his assertion; several, however, unwilling to violate the integrity of their conscience, and fearing to break the Lord’s commandment, ‘Thou shalt not bear false witness,’ firmly refused to obey him. Several of the clergy of the higher ranks, however, namely some bishops and abbats, were alarmed and enervated by the King’s threats, and, laying aside their godly fear, and showing reverence to man more than to God, affixed their seals to it, as a guarantee and testimony of their belief, and willingly accepted of this Boniface as their superior. Although he was of noble blood and a most particular friend of the princes of both kingdoms, and himself well-made in person, and sufficiently qualified, yet the monks of Canterbury were extremely sorry that they had been overcome by the King’s entreaties and agreed to his request in this matter; and some of them, after reflecting within themselves, knowing the misery in store for them, seceded from their church, and, in order to perform continued penance, betook themselves to the Carthusian order.”

A POPE IN CONSISTORY
From MS. in British Museum. Add. 23,923.

Nine years later, in 1250, there occurred an ecclesiastical scandal of a very unusual kind caused and provoked by the arrogance of this prelate. It is related by Stow as follows:—

“Boniface, Archbishop of Canterburie, in his visitation came to the priory of Saint Bartholomew in Smithfielde, where, being received with procession in the most solemne wise, he said he passed not upon the honor but came to visit them, unto whome the Chanons answered, that they having a learned Byshoppe ought not in contempt of him to bee visited by any other, which answere so much misliked the Archbyshopp, that he forthwith fell on the Subprior, and smote him on the face with his fist, saying, ‘Indeede! Indeede, doeth it become you English Traytors so to answere me?’ Thus raging with othes not to be recited, he rent in pieces the rich coape of the Subprior, trode it under feete, and thrust him against a pillar of the chancell, that he hadde almost killed him but the Chanons seeing that their Subprior was almost dead they ranne and plucked off the Archbyshoppe with such a violence that they overthrew him backwardes, whereby they might see that he was armed and prepared to fight. The Archbyshoppe’s men seeing their maister downe (being all strangers, and their maister’s countrymen borne in Provance), fell upon the Chanons, beate them, tare them, and trode them under their feet: at length the Chanons getting away as well as they could, ranne bloddy and myrie, rent and torne, to the Bishoppe of London to complaine, who bade them go to the king at Westminster, and tell him thereof: whereupon four of them went thither, the rest were not able, they were so sore hurt: but when they came at Westminster, the king woulde neyther heare nor see them, so they returned without redresse. In the meane season the whole citie was in an uproare, and ready to have rang the common bell, and to have hewed the Archbyshoppe into small pieces, but he was secretly gotte away to Lambeth.” (Howe’s edition of Stow’s Chronicles, p. 188.)

At a Parliament held in the year 1246, a memorandum was drawn up of the injuries sustained by England at the hands of the Pope, especially in the presentation of English benefices to foreigners. The document is of the highest interest, but belongs to the national history. The reading and adoption of this memorandum was followed by the despatch of letters from (1) “all the English”; (2) the Abbots of England; (3) the general community of England; (4) the King—all these to the Pope—and lastly from the King to the Cardinals. The third of these letters, which was sent out with the seal of the City of London, was the most straightforward. It may be quoted here:—

“To the most holy Father in Christ and well-beloved Lord, Innocent, by the grace of God supreme Pontiff of the Universe Church, his devoted sons, Richard, earl of Cornwall; Simon de Montfort, earl of Leicester; De Bohun, earl of Hereford and Essex; R. le Bigod, earl of Norfolk; R., earl of Gloucester and Hereford; R., earl of Winchester; W., earl of Albemarle; H., earl of Oxford; and others throughout the whole of England, barons and nobles, as well as the nobles of the ports dwelling near the sea-coast, as also the clergy and people in general, Health and due reverence in all respects to such a potent pontiff. The Mother Church is bound so to cherish her children, and to assemble them under her wings, that they may not degenerate in their duty to their mother, but may make stronger efforts on her behalf, if necessary, and taking up the sword and buckler, may oppose themselves to every peril in her defence, from whose milk they derive consolation, whilst they hang on the breasts of her motherly affection: for the mother ought to remember the children of her womb, lest, by acting otherwise, and withdrawing the nourishment of her milk, she may appear to become a stepmother. The father, also, who withdraws his affection from his sons, is no father, but ought, with good reason, to be called a stepfather, as he considers his natural children as illegitimate ones, or stepsons. On this account, reverend father, ‘chariot of Israel and its charioteer,’ we confidently resort to the asylum of your affection, crying aloud after you, humbly and devoutly praying of you, in the hopes of divine retribution, compassionately to listen to the voices of those crying after you, and to apply a salutary remedy to the burdens, injuries, and oppressions repeatedly imposed and practised on the kingdom of England, and our lord the king: otherwise, scandal will necessarily arise, urged on as we are ourselves, as well as the king, by the clamours of the people; since it will be necessary for us, unless the king and kingdom are soon released from the oppressions practised on him and it, to oppose ourselves as a wall for the house of the Lord, and for the liberty of the kingdom. This, indeed, we have, out of respect for the Apostolic See, hitherto delayed doing; but we shall not be able to dissemble after the return of our messengers who are sent on this matter to the Apostolic See, or to refrain from giving succour, as far as lies in our power, to the clergy, as well as the people of the kingdom of England, who will on no account endure such proceedings: and your holiness may rest assured that, unless the aforesaid matters are speedily reformed by you, there will be reasonable grounds to fear that such peril will impend over the Roman church, as well as our lord the king, that it will not be easy to apply a remedy to the same: which God forbid.”

The reign of Henry III. should have taught the citizens the great lesson that a charter is only a recognition and a promise: a recognition of ancient rights and liberties achieved, and a promise to respect these rights and liberties. When a king ascended the throne, who had no regard for oaths or charters, and who was strong enough to enforce his will, what became of the rights and liberties? The City had to learn that more than a king’s word was necessary. “Make a law,” is the cry of the weak and ignorant. “Let us defend what laws we have,” is the cry of the strong. During the greater part of this long reign London was weak and ignorant. The weakness of London—the alternate fits of rage and apathy—as, one after the other, her liberties were taken from her, is to be explained by the fact that the City was divided within itself. London united and of one mind could have dictated terms to king or barons. The secret of the successful and long-continued oppression of the City is the internal dissension of the people.

I must reserve for another chapter the history of the King’s encroachments and the internal dissensions. They form part of the growth—though apparently a check or hindrance—of the civil liberties.

The City, at the same time, laboured together with the country under heavy grievances. An arbitrary and extravagant king; the immigration of foreigners by swarms; the exactions of the Italian usurers, licensed by the Pope; the continuous and almost hopeless struggle against the domination and pretensions of the Pope; the loss of foreign and home trade, owing to internal dissensions and unchecked piracies,—all these things together make the long reign of Henry III. the most disastrous in the whole history of London. The struggle with the Pope belongs to the history of the country rather than to that of London. The unpopularity of the King was extended to the Queen as well. Perhaps Eleanor was regarded as the chief cause of the invasion of the country by these foreigners—ecclesiastics and usurers. The hatred of the people was shown on one unfortunate day when the Queen proposed to go by boat from the Tower to Windsor. As she drew near the Bridge, according to Holinshed, “a sorte of lewd naughtepacks, got them to the Bridge, making a noise at her, and crying ‘Drown the witch!’ threw down stones, cudgels, dirt, and other things at her, so that she escaped in great danger of her person, fled to Lambeth, and, through fear to be further pursued, landed there, and so stayed till the Mayor of London, with much ado appeasing the peril of the people, repaired to the Queen and brought her back again in safety to the Tower.”

London suffered worse things than the country because her people were throughout this long reign the unceasing object of the King’s rapacity, tyranny, and hatred. He deprived the City of the Mayor and Sheriffs, substituting a Custos and Bailiffs; he fined them relentlessly and on the smallest pretext; he laid upon them more heavy taxes than they had ever before known; he made them pay for their charters; he tried to divert the trade of the City to Westminster; yet from time to time he seems to have understood the necessity for conciliation: he met the citizens at a folk-mote; he took leave of them before going abroad. On another occasion he cut down the expenses of his household, even suppressing some of the tapers on his altar, so that he was not always an extravagant monarch. Again, on another occasion we find him spending the day and dining with the Dominican Friars, so that he was not always a luxurious monarch. And there is the memorable scene in Westminster Hall, which may be given in the words of Matthew of Westminster:—

“The day fortnight after Easter, a great parliament being assembled, nearly all the prelates being met together, requested that the King, observing their charters and liberties as he had often promised, would also permit the Holy Church to enjoy its liberties, especially in the matter of the elections of prelates of the cathedral churches, and of the churches of convents: all which the King protested that he would observe inviolably, and thus obtained the consent which he desired from them and from the other nobles, to the subsidy which he required for his pilgrimage. Accordingly, there was granted to the King one-tenth part of all the ecclesiastical revenues for three years, and from the knights a scutage for that year, at the rate of three marks for each shield. And the King promised in all good faith that he would inviolably observe all those things which he had on other occasions repeatedly sworn to, and which had been originally granted by his father John. And that they might feel more sure of his promise, he ordered sentence to that effect to be publicly pronounced in his presence, which was also done in the following manner:—

Accordingly on the third of May, in the larger royal palace at Westminster, in the presence of, and under the authority of the Lord Henry, by the grace of God, King of England, etc., etc. And after this was done, the charter of his father John was produced before the assembly, in which the said King John had granted the same things of his own absolute will, out of which charter they caused the aforesaid liberties to be recited. But while the King was listening to the aforesaid sentence, he held his hand to his breast with a serene and willing countenance; and at last, when all the tapers had been thrown down and were smoking, each person said, ‘So may all those who transgress this sentence be extinguished and stink in hell’; and the King, with all those who were standing by, answered,‘Amen, Amen.’”

When civil war broke out the City took the side of the Barons. London provided a contingent of 12,000 men. At Lewes the Londoners were routed by Prince Edward in return for the insults with which they had assailed the Queen, his mother; at Evesham their party was defeated and the King was once more restored to power. He deposed the Mayor; he put a Custos in his place; he refused to receive the citizens when they went to London to sue for mercy; he imprisoned Thomas FitzThomas for life; he confiscated the property of sixty of the wealthier citizens; he fined the City 20,000 marks, and because it was from the Bridge that the Queen had been insulted by the citizens, he gave the Bridge and its tolls to her. She kept it for a few years, neglecting to keep it in repair, and then gave it back to the City.

In the year 1257 Henry issued a new coinage of golden pennies, each weighing two sterlings, i.e. two silver pennies, and each ordered to represent twenty sterlings. He asked the advice of the City upon the matter. There was a general feeling that the golden penny was not wanted, and that it would cause a depreciation in the value of gold. The King ordered the coinage to be continued, but that no one should be compelled to take it.

We now come upon a confused episode in the history. It is that of the occupation of the City by the Earl of Gloucester (Gilbert de Clare). As Arnold FitzThedmar tells the story, the Earl was coming to London by command of the Legate, who held the Tower. The Legate further told the citizens that Gloucester was a friend of the King, and that they must admit him and his men into the City. However, the citizens begged the Earl not to take up his quarters within their walls by reason of the great multitude with him. Accordingly, he rode through with his host, and lay at Southwark. But next day the Earl came back, to hold a conference with the Legate, and there remained, he and all his people. The roving bands of the “disherisoned” who had been wasting Norfolk from their headquarters at Ely appeared before the City. The Earl took the keys of the gates, let in these dangerous marauders, and assumed the command over the whole City. Many of the better sort went away from this, and the Earl ordered their chattels to be seized for his own use or allowed his soldiers to plunder them. His men were joined by certain “low people” calling themselves the “Commons of the City”—they were obviously the craftsmen—who seized the opportunity to assert themselves: they arrested many of the principal citizens and spoiled and wasted their goods; deposed the mayor and sheriffs; they chose three of themselves to be custos and bailiffs; they imprisoned some of the aldermen; they invited back all those who had been expelled the City for breach of the peace against King Henry; and they released those who were prisoners in Newgate, Ludgate, Cripplegate, and any other prison. Some of the disorderly company of the “disherisoned” marched to Westminster, and there did as much mischief as they could to the palace, breaking the glass windows, drinking the wine, and defacing the buildings. The Pope’s Legate, meantime, was in the Tower. With him were many of the King’s friends—those of the aristocratic party—and a great number of Jews; we may also believe that the Caursini and the foreigners were taking shelter in the Tower. The Jews, who had with them their wives and children together with all their portable wealth, were assigned the defence of one ward of the Tower, which, it is pleasant to read, they did defend valiantly. In the end peace was made, and the City escaped without a fine save 1000 marks for the destruction of the house of the King’s brother Richard at Isleworth.

In 1267 the King gave the City of London to his son Edward in order that he might rule over it, and to enjoy its revenues. Edward appointed a Custos, one Hugh FitzOthon, who was also Constable of the Tower.

In 1271 the Prince restored the Mayor and Sheriffs and obtained a charter of confirmation for the City. This done he assumed the Cross and went upon his crusade.

The amount of revenue obtained by the King from the City of London in the year 1268 is shown by the following return furnished by the Bailiffs Walter Hervey and William de Durham.

In the year 1267 there was a serious riot, showing that the craftsmen had not yet learned the lesson of fraternity towards each other. It rose from a quarrel between the goldsmiths and the tailors. Other trades joined in: for instance the tawyers who prepared fine leather: and the parmenters who dealt in broad-cloth. For several days the streets were thronged with companies of these conflicting trades, fighting and murdering. In the end the riot was suppressed and the ringleaders were executed.

[CHAPTER V]
EDWARD I

EDWARD I. (1239-1307)

The new reign began with the adjustment of an outstanding quarrel. Flanders was the principal cloth-making country, and, as such, she was always the chief customer of England for wool, in the trade of which so many of the London merchants were interested. In the year 1270, when the Countess of Flanders thought fit to lay hands upon the wool and other merchandise belonging to English merchants in her dominions, Henry issued a writ to the Mayor and Sheriffs forbidding the export of wool anywhere out of the kingdom. This measure failed to produce the desired effect. The King therefore, in 1270, seized all the goods of the Flemings, Hainaulters, and other subjects of the Countess; he ordered the London merchants to draw up an estimate of their wares, to be replaced out of the Flemings’ goods, and banished every Fleming out of the country. The property seized more than covered the amount of the loss. When the old King died during the absence of Edward in the Holy Land, the Chancellor, Walter de Merton, continued to banish the Flemings.

On his journey home, Edward received an embassy from the Countess, and sent for four discreet citizens to confer with him. The four chosen were Henry Waleys, afterwards Mayor of Bordeaux, as well as of London; Gregory de Rokesley, goldsmith and wool merchant; John Horn, evidently of Flemish descent; and Luke de Battencourt, Sheriff. Peace was concluded and signed in the same year—1274.

On the return of Edward from the Holy Land, he was received by the City with every appearance of joy, all the houses being hung with silk and tapestry, while the conduits ran with wine.

He was crowned at Westminster Abbey with his Queen Eleanor on August 19, 1274. The ceremony took place in the Abbey Church very much as we see it, though without later additions of chapel and western towers. The Abbey had been rebuilt by Henry III. though as yet it was not finished. The Queen-mother, Eleanor of Provence, was present. The day after the coronation Alexander III. of Scotland did homage. In honour of the occasion five hundred horses were let loose among the crowd for any to take who could. One would like a picture of the scramble which followed, and an enumeration of the dead and wounded when all the horses had been ridden away.

QUEEN ELEANOR OF CASTILE
From the effigy in Westminster Abbey.

In the City the contest between the two parties was continued. The old party tried to obtain the election of their man Philip le Taillour, but were beaten by the common sort who elected Walter Hervey. An appeal was made to the King: a committee of ten, five on each side, were to agree upon a Mayor. The names of the members of this committee on both sides show pretty plainly the real nature of the quarrel. For one side are Walter Merton, William le Polter, John Adrian, Henry de Coventry, and Thomas Basyng, all members of old City families; on the other side are Robert Grapefige, Alan the Capmaker, and Bartholomew the Grocer. It was while the dispute was still unsettled that the old King had died, and Walter Merton told the people at Paul’s Cross that they should have their Mayor. The new Mayor and Sheriffs set themselves to regulate the trade of the City, especially the sale of bread, meal, and provisions generally, and to pass laws for the punishment of those who gave short weight or adulterated food. The laws being passed, the City Fathers, as was customary in those times, sat down with the consciousness of having done their duty. The appointment of an executive force to insist upon the observance of the laws was an expedient not yet invented by the wit of man.

It is, however, another illustration of the upheaval and discontent of the people that in the third year of this reign, the juries of the wards made a presentment to the King complaining that although the City ought not to be tallaged except by order of the King, yet it had been on several occasions tallaged by the Mayor; and that although all the citizens were equal as regards their freedom and privileges, yet some of the Aldermen and others had obtained charters from Henry III. exempting them from tallage: in so much that all the tallage fell upon the middle sort and the poor, to their great loss and oppression.

The King further considered the complaints against the Jews for usury. They were forbidden to practise their trade; and it was ordained, as a mark of infamy, that every usurer should wear upon his breast a badge, the “breadth of a paveline,” in sign of his trade. This law was levelled at the Italian merchants, the men of the Pope, who traded in money and refused to obey any laws against the practice except those of the Pope. As for the unfortunate Jews, being deprived of the only trade open to them—if they were really deprived, but I think the edict was never enforced,—they took to clipping and diminishing the King’s coin—if they really did do so, but one doubts—and were all seized and imprisoned in one day: out of those so arrested in the City, two hundred and eighty were executed. Alas! poor Jews!

It is an illustration of the melancholy condition to which London was reduced by the late disastrous reign that in the year 1281 it was reported to the King that London Bridge had become so ruinous that it might any moment fall down. This was in consequence of the Queen of Henry III. having spent the revenues and rents upon herself, and left the fabric to fall into ruin, in so much that in 1282 a great frost happening, five of the piers were carried away by the ice. Edward ordered a toll of one penny for every horseman and one halfpenny for every saleable pack of goods that crossed the bridge, the toll to continue for three years. Grants of land, made to the City by Edward I. and following kings for the repair of the Bridge, prove that the citizens had recovered their ancient rights as to its custody.

Nor were the City Gates in much better case than the Bridge. Thus, the Hanseatic merchants enjoyed the privilege of trading in the City on the condition of keeping one of the Gates—Bishopsgate—in repair, and of defending it in case of siege. The condition was imposed by Henry III., but the merchants neglected the Gate so that it had by this time fallen into ruin. On being called upon to fulfil their contract they at first refused, but when the case was decided against them by the Court of Exchequer, they performed their duty with zeal, and a hundred and fifty years later, when the gate again fell into decay, they pulled it down and rebuilt it.

The brutality of the time is illustrated by the reception given to the head of Llewelyn, Prince of Wales. He had fled to the castle of Builth after losing his last battle. Here he was betrayed into the hands of Roger le Strange, who cut off his head with his sword and sent it to the King. Edward ordered that it should be carried to London. Consequently the head of the dead warrior was borne on a lance, crowned with a silver chaplet, through the streets with a cavalcade of men-at-arms, with trumpets and drums, and with the shouting of the people. Then it was stuck up on the Tower, crowned with a mock diadem. One remembers also the unspeakable indignities perpetrated on the dead body of Simon de Montfort.

All the histories of London notice the remarkable case of Lawrence Ducket mentioned by Fabyan. It occurred in the year 1284, and presents many points of mystery. Lawrence Ducket was a goldsmith who, in some kind of affray, wounded one Ralph Crepin in Westchepe. Immediately after the deed, it would seem, probably running away from the crowd, he took sanctuary in Bow Church tower. But certain friends of Crepin getting into the tower at night hanged Lawrence from one of the windows in such a manner that it seemed as if he had committed suicide. And a Coroner’s jury holding inquest on the body brought in a verdict of self-murder, whereupon the body was thrown into a cart, carried out of the City, and buried in a ditch. Then, however, a boy came forward and deposed that he was sleeping in the tower with Lawrence Ducket, and that he witnessed from a corner where he hid himself—the murder by certain persons whom he named. Arrests were made and more information obtained, in consequence of which it was discovered that a woman had contrived and designed this murder and sacrilege. She was burned alive. Sixteen were hanged; and many others, persons of consideration, were fined. A notable murder.

One remembers the quarrel between the Goldsmiths and the Tailors fifteen years before this. Was it a renewal of that, or some other old feud? That would seem the only way of accounting for so determined and so daring a revenge.

Two things are remarkable in the year 1285. First, the great conduit of Cheapside was set up in this year. It was a cistern of lead built round with stone and castellated. The water had been brought from Paddington fifty years before, but this was the first attempt to form a reservoir; the leaden pipes originally used were changed for wooden pipes formed by hollowing out trunks of trees. There were three sections: one of 510 rods from Paddington to “James’ Head”; one of 102 rods from “James’ Head on the hill” to the Mewsgate; from the Mewsgate to the Cross in Cheape, 484 rods. For a long time this conduit formed the sole supply of water brought in from without for the whole City excepting the foul waters of the Fleet and the Walbrook. There were, however, many private wells and springs in the City, and of water without the City there was a plentiful supply.

The second noticeable act of the year was the order of the Archbishop of Canterbury that all the Jews’ synagogues in the City should be destroyed. The hatred of the Jews was, it will be seen, rapidly becoming irresistible.

In 1285, also, thirteen years after the death of King Henry, there comes to light what is either an act of revenge or a curious survival of the spirit of discontent which placed the Londoners on the side of the barons. A citizen named Thomas Piwilesdon (? By Willesden) who in the time of the barons had been a great “doer, to stir the people against King Henry,” was arrested on the charge of compassing new disturbances. No doubt this was in connection with the efforts of the craftsmen. The Custos arrested him and banished him, with fifty others, out of the City for life.

What followed was, apparently, a concession to the merchants. The foreign traders had formerly been compelled to lodge in the houses of citizens and to sell their goods by procuration, through the London merchants. Afterwards being allowed to take houses and use them for storage and for sale, they were now charged with abusing the privilege in various ways; they caused their goods to be weighed by their private beams instead of the King’s beam; and they used false weights. Twenty of them were arrested and taken to the Tower; their false weights were publicly destroyed in West Chepe, and they themselves, after a long imprisonment, were fined a thousand pounds.

The City had sunk into a dreadful condition by the bad government of the mayors and sheriffs, the internal dissensions, and the general anarchy. The streets were nightly infested with companies of robbers and murderers; the crafts, especially those whose work overlapped each other, were perpetually quarrelling; there was dissension everywhere; the old order was breaking up. For a time it was well that London should cease to elect her Mayor. Moreover, there were examples of this despotic remedy under Henry III. The Sheriff of the year 1285 was Gregory Rockesley, who was a goldsmith. With his friend Henry Waleys he had taken turns in holding the chief office of the City. Waleys was a vintner. Both were wealthy men and of good repute with the King. In 1275 Henry Waleys stepped from the Mayoralty of London into that of Bordeaux. In 1274 Rockesley held no office in London, because he was sent to Flanders on an embassy. The following table will illustrate the position in the City of these two merchants.

• 1264. Gregory Rockesley is one of the Sheriffs.
• 1271. Sheriffs, Gregory Rockesley and Henry Waleys.
• 1274. Mayor, Henry Waleys.
• 1275. Mayor, Gregory Rockesley.
• 1276. Mayor, Gregory Rockesley.
• 1277. Mayor, Gregory Rockesley.
• 1278. Mayor, Gregory Rockesley.
• 1279. Mayor, Gregory Rockesley.
• 1280. Mayor, Gregory Rockesley.
• 1281. Mayor, Gregory Rockesley.
• 1282. Mayor, Henry Waleys.
• 1283. Mayor, Henry Waleys.
• 1284. Mayor, Henry Waleys.
• 1285. Mayor, Gregory Rockesley.
• 1286-1297. No Mayor.
• 1298. Mayor, Henry Waleys.

So that in thirteen years no other citizen was put forward as Mayor except these two, and when the City after twelve years returned to its old constitution, one of these two—probably the survivor—became once more Mayor.

In the year 1285 Edward took over the City into his own hands in the manner following. On the feast of St. Peter and St. Paul (June 29) the Lord Treasurer summoned the Mayor to the Tower there to give an account of his keeping of the peace. The summons was an infraction upon the liberties of the City (see also vol. ii. part i. ch. iv.). Gregory Rockesley, however, without formally refusing to obey, marched in procession with the City Fathers as far as Barking Church. Here he cast aside his gown, his collar, his rings, and dismissed his officers, and entered the Tower as a private person there appearing before the Justices. They asked him what he meant. He replied that as mayor he was not bound to appear before any Court beyond the liberties of the City. I think that we may assume that this question and this answer had been arranged beforehand, because it was most unlikely that the Treasurer was ignorant of the City’s Charters. Rockesley was allowed to retire. Next day, he and the principal citizens were arrested and put in prison. The King, “finding the City without a Mayor,” took it into his own hands and appointed as Custos Sir Ralph Sandwich. After this everybody was released and the Custos remained in charge.

The whole story shows previous arrangement. The only two men who seemed possible for the post of Mayor were growing old; the office was more onerous than they could well bear; the City grew daily more lawless; deeds of violence were more rife; the quarrels of the craftsmen more frequent; street fights more common; the arm of the law weaker. But the King was strong, there was no doubt on that point. Long before his accession Edward had proved to the citizens that he was strong and just and inflexible. Let the King take over the City and keep possession till the restoration of good order. Not by trampling on the Charters. Let it be done by a legal quibble.

So it was all arranged, and Gregory Rockesley, being released from prison, retired from office to the quiet management of his own affairs. As we hear no more about him we may assume that he was probably dead when the citizens returned to the election of their Mayor. And the King finding the City without a mayor appointed a Custos in his own name. One of the citizens, Aswy, Alderman of Chepe, was kept in prison a little longer, for some other reason, which we are not able to learn. The new Custos, it is evident, was a strong man. He not only knew how to make laws but he enforced them. He would allow no foreigner to wear any weapon, nor to be abroad after curfew; and since the late disturbances took place chiefly by night, all people wandering about the streets after dark were liable to be arrested and clapped into the Tun of Cornhill. No vintners or victuallers were to keep their shops open after curfew: and, since many lewd persons learned the art of fencing as a help to their disorderly conduct, all schools of fencing were closed: the Aldermen were enjoined to make a visitation of their wards and to arrest rogues and bring them to punishment. As a practical example, the Custos arrested fifty-eight persons and banished them from the City. Then the hearts of honest men were gladdened. They had got a just and strong King who had appointed a just and strong Custos. The laws would be obeyed. As for the City liberties, they would doubtless be restored when the City had purged herself and was ready to live a cleanly and reputable life. Another important step was taken. It was ordered, with the view of securing for the King an army of defence in case of need, every man was to have arms and armour according to his rank, and that the armour should be inspected twice a year; and, further, for the better security of the City that every gate should be guarded by six men and should be closed from sunset to sunrise.

Grove and Boulton.

CHARING CROSS
Designed by Pietro Cavalini.

This strong king, by another act of justice accomplished at the same time, filled the souls of wrongdoers in high places with terror. This was the punishment of the King’s Justiciars for the delays and corruptions with which they had conducted their Courts. Twelve Judges were found guilty and condemned in various penalties and fines. The Chief Justice was stripped of all his property and banished. Another was fined 32,000 marks, an enormous sum of money; the rest were fined from one thousand to seven thousand marks.

Respect for the law, after a long period of lawlessness, was the lesson which the nation had to learn. In London it was sternly taught the citizens by the King’s Custos, Sir Ralph Sandwich. And first by the example of the foreign merchants: for finding them justly charged with short measure and false weight, he imprisoned them all in the Tower, and fined them a thousand pounds. This punishment struck a salutary terror into the heart of many an honest trader: quart pots, for instance, were everywhere restored to their original dimensions by the removal of the pitch which had raised up the bottom. Another useful lesson was given when a rescue was attempted. The Sheriff was haling a criminal to prison when three misguided citizens assaulted him and forcibly released the man. They were promptly arrested, tried, and sentenced to have their right hands struck off. It is a punishment which one would not willingly see revived; at the same time, it may be acknowledged that the spectacle of these unhappy stumps must have reminded the citizens every day of the respect due to a magistrate. It was an object lesson which continued till the death of the last survivor of the three. And another lesson was taught them when some of the principal citizens broke open the Tun prison and set the prisoners free. They were themselves imprisoned and the City was fined 20,000 marks.

In the year 1295 there happened a thing happily most unusual in the annals of the country—the deliberate venal treachery of a knight esteemed honourable and loyal as he was already proved to be courageous. There is an account of the case in Holinshed; Stow and others briefly notice it; the fullest account, however, is that of Bartholomew Cotton, quoted in the Appendix to the Chronicles of Old London (FitzThedmar):—

“In the same year (A.D. 1295) a certain knight, Thomas Turbevile by name, who had been taken by the French at the siege of Rheims, and detained in prison by the said King of France, came over to England with traitorous designs, and said that he had escaped from prison of the said King of France: whereupon, he was kindly received by our Lord the King of England, and much honoured. But after he had remained some little time in the Court of our Lord the King of England aforesaid, he attempted to send a certain letter to the King of France: whereupon, his messenger carried the same to our Lord the King of England and gave him a full and open account of the treachery of his employer. The traitor, suspecting this, took to flight, but was taken shortly after. The tenor of his treasonable letter was as follows:—

The whole of the letter need not be quoted here. It proved the treason of the man up to the hilt.

“‘And know that the King is sending into Gascoigne twenty ships laden with wheat and oats, and with other provisions and a large amount of money: and Sir Edmund the King’s brother will go thither, and the Earle of Nichole, Sir Hugh le Despenser, the Earl of Warwyk, and many other good folks: and this you may tell to the high Lord. And know that we think we have enough to do against those of Scotland! and if those of Scotland rise against the King of England, the Welsh will rise also. And this I have well contrived, and Morgan has covenanted with me to that effect. Wherefore I counsel you forthwith to send great persons into Scotland: for if you can enter therein, you will have gained it for ever.’”

The said Thomas was seized on the Saturday next before the Feast of Saint Michael, and taken to the Tower of London: and on the Saturday next after the Feast of Saint Faith (October 6) he had his trial, and departed in manner underwritten:—He came from the Tower, mounted on a poor hack, in a coat of ray, and shod with white shoes, his head being covered with a hood, and his feet tied beneath the horse’s belly, and his hands tied before him: and around him were riding six torturers attired in the form of the devil, one of whom held his rein, and the hangman his halter, for the horse which bore him had them both upon it: and in such a manner was he led from the Tower through London to Westminster, and was condemned on the dais in the Great Hall there: and Sir Roger Brabazun pronounced judgment on him, that he should be drawn and hanged, and that he should hang so long as anything should be left whole of him: and he was drawn on a fresh ox-hide from Westminster to the Conduit of London, and then back to the gallows: and there is he hung by a chain of iron, and will hang so long as anything of him may remain.

In the year 1290 Edward lost his Queen, Eleanor of Castile, and to show his grief for her death he erected crosses of a beautiful design at all the stopping-places of the funeral procession on its way from Nottingham to London. It may be remembered that one of the suggested derivations of Charing Cross is “Chère reine,” in allusion to the cross there. The present cross in the station courtyard is on the model of the ancient one, though not exactly like it.

In the same year those remaining of the Jews were banished, their lands and houses were seized; though they were suffered to carry with them their portable property. The hardships endured by these unfortunate people are spoken of elsewhere (see [p. 9]). The following simple story of brutal murder is related by Holinshed (vol. ii.):—

“A sort of the richest of them, being shipped with their treasure in a mightie tall ship which they had hired, when the same was under saile, and got downe the Thames towards the mouth of the river beyond Quinborowe, the maister mariner bethought him of a wile, and caused his men to cast anchor, and so rode at the same, till the ship by ebbing of the stream remained on the drie sands. The maister herewith entised the Jewes to walke out with him on land for recreation. And at length, when he understood the tide to be coming in, he got him backe to the ship, whither he was drawne up by a cord. The Jewes made not so much hast as he did, bicause they were not aware of the danger. But when they perceived how the matter stood, they cried to him for helpe; howbeit he told them, that they ought to crie rather unto Moses, by whose conduct their fathers had passed through the Red Sea, and therefore, if they would call to him for helpe, he was able inough to helpe them out of those raging floods, which now came in upon them; they cried indeed, but no succour appeared, and so they were swallowed up in the water. The maister returned with the ship, and told the King how he had used the matter, and had both thanks and reward, as some have written. But other affirme (and more trulie as should seem) that diverse of those mariners, which dealt so wickedlie against the Jewes, were hanged for their wicked practise, and so received a just reward of their fraudulent and mischeevous dealing.”

In the end the banishment of the Jews brought no alleviation to those who wanted to borrow money. The Lombards and the Caursini proved as flinty-hearted in the matter of interest as any Jew had been.

Edward granted but one Charter to the City. This was in 1298, when the Mayor was restored to the City. It is simply a Charter of Confirmation. The citizens are to have all their old liberties together with the right of electing their Mayor and Sheriffs. The election of Henry Waleys as the first of the new series showed that the preponderance of power was still with the aristocratic class. Edward’s financial embarrassments and his wars belong to the history of the country. As regards the City, Edward borrowed money of the Italian Companies (see [p. 212]); he created knights by the hundred; he searched the monasteries and churches for treasure; he seized the lay fees of the clergy; he got £2000 out of the City in recognition of his knighting the Mayor; and he persuaded, or ordered, the Londoners to furnish him with three ships, forty men mounted and equipped, and fifty arbalisters for the defence of the southern coast.

After the King’s victorious campaign in Scotland, he was welcomed on his return with a procession and pageant most magnificent. The houses were hung high with scarlet cloth; the trades and crafts appeared, each offering some device or “subtlety” showing its kind of work. Thus, the fishmongers marched with four gilt sturgeons and four silver salmon on horses; they also equipped forty-six knights in full armour, riding horses “made like luces of the sea”; the knights were followed by St. Magnus—his church is at the bottom of Fish Street—with a thousand horsemen.

PARLIAMENT OF EDWARD I.
From Pinkerton, Iconographia Scotica.

On August 10, 1305, Westminster witnessed a trial surpassed by few in interest and importance—that of the patriot Sir William Wallace, who had been captured in his Highland retreat by treachery, and had been brought to London. Wallace was at this time not more than thirty years of age: in the full vigour of manhood and of genius. He had filled his short life with fights and forays. As a hero of romance, the ideal patriot, all kinds of legends and stories have accumulated round his name. All we know for certain about him is that he was at the head of an army gathered from that part of the Lowlands lying north of the Tay; that without the help of the Scottish earls or barons he defeated the English at Stirling and drove them out of the country; and though he was defeated at Falkirk he awakened in the hearts of the Scots the spirit of independence: he made them a nation. On his arrival in London the illustrious prisoner was taken to the house of a private citizen, William De Leyre by name, who lived in the parish of Allhallows the Great. It does not appear why he was not taken to the Tower. Perhaps it was desired to attach as little importance as possible in the case. “Great numbers,” however, according to Stow, “both men and women came out to wonder upon him.... On the morrow, being the eve of St. Bartholomew, he was brought on horseback to Westminster, John Segrave and Geoffrey, knights, the Mayor, Sheriffs and Aldermen of London and many others, both on horseback and on foot, accompanying him: and in the Great Hall at Westminster he being placed on the south bench, crowned with lawrel—for that he had said in time past that he ought to bear a crown in that hall as it was commonly reported—and being appeached as a traitor by Sir Peter Mallorie the King’s Justice, he answered that he was never traitor to the King of England: but for other things whereof he was accused”—what were those other things?—“he confessed them.” What he pleaded was, in fact, that he could be no traitor because he owed no allegiance to the King of England. It is clear from this statement that the name and fame of William Wallace were spread over the whole of England; and that the man who had driven out the English and ravaged Northumberland and defied the conqueror, was sent up to London as a captive fore-doomed to death. The prentices ran and shouted; the women looked out of the upper chambers—pity that a man so gallant, who rode as if to his wedding instead of his death, should have to die the death of a traitor. As for the manner of his death, it followed the usual ceremony: first he was dragged at the heels of horses to the place of execution, the Elms at Smithfield; he was placed on a hurdle, otherwise he would have been dead long before reaching the place, for from Westminster Hall to the Elms, Smithfield, is two miles at least. There were multitudes waiting at Smithfield to see this gallant Scot done to death. First they hanged him on a high gallows, but only for the ignominy of it, not to kill him; then they took the rope from his neck, laid him down, took out his bowels and performed other mutilations which one hopes were done when the life was out of him. Then they cut up his body and distributed it in parts: some to rejoice the hearts of the English on London Bridge, at Newcastle, at Berwick: and of the Scots at Perth and Aberdeen. The business was as barbarous as possible, but it was the fashion of the time. Two hundred and fifty years later in the reign of Queen Elizabeth the same punishment in all its details was inflicted upon Babington and his friends. Three hundred and eighty years later almost the same punishment was inflicted upon Monmouth’s adherents. The execution itself, apart from the cruel manner of it, which belonged to the time, is generally condemned as a blot upon the life and reign of the great Edward. Perhaps, however, the history of the case may show some reason for an act quite contrary in spirit to the King’s usual treatment of the indomitable Scots. After the overtures of Balliol, the Scottish lords swore homage to Edward. Wallace alone—a simple knight—refused to recognise the surrender, called the people to arms, against the wish of nobles and priests, drove the English out of Scotland and led a foray into Northumberland. At the battle of Falkirk the Scots were defeated and cut to pieces, Wallace himself escaping with difficulty. That was in 1298. But the struggle was continued. For six years Edward was occupied with other troubles. When, in 1304, he again invaded the country, the Scottish lords laid down their arms and the conquest of Scotland was accomplished without further bloodshed. A general amnesty was extended to all. But the name of Wallace was excluded—“let him submit to the grace of the King, if so it seemeth him good.” Wallace would not submit: he retreated to the Highlands, where he was captured.

GREAT SEAL OF EDWARD I.

In every age civilised war is governed by certain rules: one must play the game according to these rules. One of them is that when the King has accepted peace, there shall be peace. Wallace might be supposed to have broken that rule. His country had submitted formally: he alone stood out. Patriot he was, no doubt. So was Andreas Hofer; but irregular warfare everywhere is treated as treason or rebellion. And therefore the King, who might well have shown a magnanimous clemency, was justified in his own eyes in putting Sir William Wallace to a shameful end.

The opinion of the English people upon Wallace may be understood from that of Matthew of Westminster, who pours a shower of abuse upon his head. William Wallace is “an outcast from pity, a robber, a sacrilegious man, an incendiary, a homicide, a man more cruel than the cruelty of Herod, more insane than the fury of Nero.” He made men and women in the North of England dance naked before him; he murdered infants; burnt boys in schools “in great numbers,” and at last ran away and deserted his people.

It remains to be added that Wallace’s head was the first of many which decorated London Bridge.

The remarkable robbery of the King’s Treasury by Podelicote took place in 1305.

In the same year the King offered an excellent example of obedience to the laws by sending his son, Prince Edward, to prison for riotously breaking into the park of Walter Langton, Bishop of Chester, and at the same time banished from the realm the Prince’s companion and unworthy friend, Piers Gaveston.

On July 7, 1307, King Edward died while on his way to carry out his vow of vengeance against Bruce.

[CHAPTER VI]
EDWARD II

The least worthy, or the most worthless, of all the English sovereigns, was the first who sat upon the sacred stone of Scone, brought into England by Edward I. The coronation was held on February 25, 1308, the Queen being crowned with the King. The Mayor and Aldermen took part in the function and in the banquet afterwards.

HEAD OF EDWARD II.
From effigy in Gloucester Cathedral.

The history of this miserable reign chiefly consists of the troubles caused by the King’s favourites. London, however, played a large part in the events arising out of their quarrels. In the autumn of 1308, the first year of the King’s reign, the Barons succeeded in getting Piers Gaveston banished. In 1309, however, he was back again and was made Earl of Cornwall, “to the great detriment of the realm” (French Chronicle). The indignation of the Barons waxed daily greater against the favourite, who lavished the wealth that was heaped upon him in ostentation and display. We must remember the strong feeling of the time that rank should be marked by such display as we now call ostentation. An Earl, for instance, was expected to carry about with him a great retinue; to wear costly armour; to give his followers a rich livery; and to keep up a noble house. But Piers Gaveston, whatever rank the King had conferred upon him, was a foreigner and an upstart, the son of a simple Gascon knight. That he was enabled to exhibit the display which befitted an ancient House made the nobles recall his origin. Besides, the man had a ready wit and a keen tongue. He gave every one of the Barons a nickname. Lancaster was the “old hog” or the “churl”; Gloucester the “cuckold’s bird” or the “Bastard”; Lincoln was “Bursten bellie”; Pembroke was “Joseph the Jew”; Warwick was the “Black hound of Arderne”; and so with the others.

There had been trouble about this favourite in the late King’s reign. In 1305, as we have seen, Edward put his son in prison for riotously breaking into a Bishop’s park, “and because the Prince had done this deed by the procurement of a lewd and wanton person, one Piers Gaveston, an Esquire of Gascoine; the King banished him the nation, lest the Prince, who delighted much in his company, might, by his evil and wanton counsel, fall to evill and naughtie rule.” (Holinshed.)

The first thing the new King did, then, was to recall his favourite and to create him Earl of Cornwall. He also married him to his niece, the daughter of his sister Joan, and of Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Gloucester.

The favourite repaid these favours as might be expected. He furnished the Court, Holinshed says, with “companies of jesters, ruffians, flattering parasites, musicians, and other vile and naughtie ribalds, that the King might spend both daies and nights in jesting, plaieng, blanketing, and other filthie and dishonourable exercises.”

How the Barons remonstrated with the King; how they took Gaveston prisoner under promise to deliver him to the King; how they broke that promise and beheaded him, is to be read in every history of England.

It is noted by Sharpe as one reason for the hatred which the citizens of London as well as the Barons felt towards this and the following favourites, that they were always soliciting small favours from the citizens for their own friends. “At one time,” he writes, “it was Piers Gaveston who wanted a post for his valet: at another time Hugh le Despenser asked for the Small Beam for a friend.”

It was before this, however, that the Barons appointed “ordainers” to draw up ordinances for the better government of the City. When their work was completed it was laid before a Parliament which assembled at the Black Friars, and here it received sanction. The ordinances were afterwards proclaimed at St. Paul’s Cross.

In March 1311 the City gave the King the sum of 1000 marks. The Mayor, Richard de Refham, who belonged to the popular party, caused an examination of all the charters and documents concerning the City liberties. He then read them publicly, and asked the people if they were resolved upon the maintenance of their liberties. He also took steps to clear the streets of the night-walkers and “roreres” who for a long time had committed murders and robberies unchecked. The entries in Riley’s Memorials of London under the year 1311 show the activity of this Mayor’s reign. He would tolerate no abusive language in his Court; he would not allow trades which were a nuisance to be carried on in the street, such as the skinning of dead horses, the dressing of fur, etc.; he arrested and committed to prison a great number of rogues, criminals, and strumpets. He strengthened and guarded the Gates, keeping a night watch of sixteen men for every one. Perhaps his activity made enemies, for he was deposed before his term of office had expired. The French Chronicle, however, says nothing about any deposition.

In November 1312 a son was born to the King, named Edward of Windsor. The following account shows how such an event was received and celebrated by the loyal citizens:—

The Queen herself sent a letter to the citizens.

“Isabel by the grace of God, Queen of England, Lady of Ireland, and Duchess of Aquitaine, to our well-beloved, the Mayor, and Aldermen, and the Commonalty of London, greeting. Forasmuch as we believe that you would willingly hear good tidings of us, we do make known to you that our Lord in His grace has delivered us of a son, on the 13th day of November with safety to ourselves, and to the child. May our Lord preserve you. Given at Wyndesore, on the day above-named.”

“Of this letter the bearer was John de Phalaise, tailor to the Queen: and he came on the Tuesday next after the feast of St. Martin (November 11) in the 6th year of the reign of King Edward, son of King Edward. But as the news had been brought by Robert Oliver on the Monday before, the Mayor and Aldermen, and great part of the Commonalty, assembled in the Guildhall at time of Vespers and carolled, and showed great joy thereat; and so passed through the City, with glare of torches, and with trumpets and other ministrelsies.

And on the Tuesday next, early in the morning, cry was made throughout all the City to the effect that there was to be no work, labour, or business in shop, on that day; but that every one was to apparel himself in the most becoming manner that he could, and come to the Guildhall at the hour for Prime: ready to go with the Mayor, together with other good folks, to St. Paul’s there to make praise and offering, to the honour of God, who had shown them such favour on earth, and to show respect for this child that had been born. And after this, they were to return all together to the Guildhall, to do whatever might be enjoined.

On the Wednesday following, the Mayor, by assent of the Aldermen, and of others of the Commonalty, gave to the said John de Phalaise, bearer of the letter aforesaid, ten pounds sterling and a cup of silver, four marks in weight. And on the morrow, this same John de Phalaise sent back the present aforesaid because it seemed to him too little.

On the Monday following, the Mayor was richly costumed, and the Aldermen arrayed in like suits of robes; and the drapers, mercers, and vintners were in costume; and they rode on horseback thence to Westminster, and there made offering, and then returned to the Guildhall, which was excellently well tapestried and dressed out, and there they dined. And after dinner they went in carols throughout the City all the rest of the day, and great part of the night. And on the same day the Conduit in Chepe ran with nothing but wine for all those who chose to drink there. And at the Cross just by the Church of St. Michael in West Chepe, there was a pavilion extended in the middle of the street, in which was set a tun of wine, for all passers-by to drink of, who might wish for any.”

In 1313 an important case was argued before the Royal Council sitting at the White Friars. The King had issued orders for a tallage which the City refused to pay on various grounds, but especially on the ground that their charters granted them exemption from tallage. By lending the King £1000 they obtained a postponement of the question till the meeting of Parliament. When Parliament did meet, eighteen months later, they obtained a further postponement by another loan of £400, part of which was devoted to the equipment of 120 men for the Scottish war.

In the years 1314 and 1315 there was a dearth, and many died of hunger. “There followed this famine”—Stow’s Chronicle—“a grievous mortalitie of people, so that the quicke might unneath bury the dead. The Beastes and Cattell also by the corrupt Grasse whereof they fedde, dyed, whereby it came to passe that the eating of flesh was suspected of all men, for flesh of Beastes not corrupted was hard to finde. Horseflesh was counted great delicates; the poore stole fatte Dogges to eate; some (as it was sayde) compelled through famine, in hidde places, did eate the fleshe of their owne children, some stole others which they devoured. Thieves that were in prisons, did plucke in peeces those that were newly brought amongst them and greedily devoured them half alive.” In 1315 there was also a storm which damaged Holborn Bridge and Fleet Bridge.

In the years 1316, 1317, and 1318, under the Mayoralty of John de Wengrave, Recorder and Coroner of the City and Alderman of Chepe, there were dissensions in the City.

The French Chronicle lays the blame upon the Mayor, who, he says, “did much evil in his time to the Commons.” They were drawing up for submission to the King certain Articles for the more regular Government of the City. As John de Wengrave owed his third election to the King it was not unreasonable to suppose that he was acting in the interest of the King rather than that of the citizens. However, the articles were confirmed by the King, who got £1000 in return. The Charter touches on a great many points, most of them fruitful in quarrels and disturbances. The analysis of the Charter given in the Liber Albus is as follows:—

“That the Mayor and Sheriffs of London shall be chosen by the citizens of that City according to the tenor of their Charters, and in no other manner.

That the Mayor of the said City shall not remain in office as such Mayor beyond one year at a time.

Also, that no Sheriff of the City shall have more than two clerks and two serjeants by reason of his office, and those, persons for whom he shall be willing to answer.

Also, that the Mayor of the said City, so long as he shall be Mayor, shall hold no other office pertaining unto that City than such office of Mayor.

Also, that the Mayor shall not demand to have brought before him, or hold, any plea that belongs to the Sheriff’s Court.

Also, that the Aldermen of that City shall be removable yearly, and be removed, on the day of Saint Gregory (12th March), and in the year following shall not be re-elected, but others (shall be elected) in their stead, etc.

Also, that the tallages, after being assessed by the men of the Wards thereunto deputed, shall not be augmented or increased by the Mayor and Aldermen, except with the common consent of the Mayor and commonalty.

Also, that the monies arising from such tallages shall be in the keeping of four reputable men, commoners of the said City.

Also, that no stranger shall be admitted to the freedom of the said City, except at the Hustings.

Also, that an inhabitant, and especially an Englishman by birth, a trader of a certain mystery or craft, shall not be admitted to the freedom of the City aforesaid except upon the security of six reputable men, of such certain mystery or craft, etc.

Also, that enquiry shall be made each year, if any persons enjoying the freedom of the City have traded with the property of others who are not of the freedom, avowing that such goods are their own. And those who shall be lawfully convicted thereof, shall lose the freedom.

Also, that all who wish to enjoy the freedom of the City shall be in Lot and Scot, and partakers of all burdens for (maintaining) the state of the City, etc.

Also, that all persons of the freedom of the City, and dwelling without the said City, who by themselves and their servants follow a trade within the City, shall be in Lot and Scot with the commoners of the same City, etc., or shall be removed from the freedom thereof.

Also, that the Common Seal shall be in the keeping of two Aldermen and two commoners, by the commonalty to be chosen, and that the same shall not be denied to poor or to rich.

Also, that the giving of judgment in the Courts of the City, after verdict (given), shall not be deferred, unless some difficulty intervene. And if such difficulty shall intervene, such verdicts shall not stand over beyond the third Court.

Also, that the weights and beams for weighing merchandize as between merchant and merchant, the issues of which belong to the commonalty, shall be in the keeping of reputable men, by the commonalty to be chosen.

Also, that the Sheriffs may entrust the charge of collecting toll and other customs into their ferm pertaining, as also other public duties unto themselves belonging, to sufficient men for whom they shall be willing to answer.

Also, that merchants who are not of the freedom, etc., shall not sell wines or other wares by retail within the said City.

Also, that in future there shall be no brokers of any merchandize in the said City, but those who have been chosen thereto by the traders of their mysteries; and that they shall be sworn before the Mayor.

Also, that common hostelers, although they may not be of the freedom of the same City, shall be partakers of all (burdens) unto the said City pertaining, etc. Saving always, that the merchants of Gascoigne and other strangers may dwell and keep hostels for each other in the said City, in such manner as they have heretofore been wont to do.

Also, that the keeping of the Bridge shall be entrusted unto two reputable men of the City aforesaid, other than the Aldermen thereof.

Also, that no Serjeant of the Chamber at the Guildhall shall take a fee of the commonalty, etc., or do execution, unless he be one elected by the commonalty thereto.

Also, that the Chamberlain, Common Clerk (and) Common Serjeant of the City, shall be chosen and removed by the commonalty, at the will of the same commonalty.

Also, that the Mayor, Recorder, and the Chamberlain and Common Clerk aforesaid, shall be content with their fees, from of old appointed and paid.

Also, that the property of the Aldermen of the said City shall be taxed in aids, tallages, and contributions, by the men of the Wards in which such Aldermen shall be residing, in the same manner as the property of the other citizens of the same Wards.

Also, that the Aldermen and commonalty, for the necessities and advantage of the said City, may among themselves assess and levy tallages upon their property within the said City, rents as well as other things.” (Riley’s Trans. pp. 127-129.)

According to this Charter the only way to the civic franchise was by becoming a member of the civic guilds: “That no inhabitant, of any mystery or trade, be admitted into the freedom of the City, unless by surety of six honest and sufficient men of the mystery or trade that he shall be of”—a fact which proves the importance of the guilds. “At this time,” says the French Chronicle, “many of the people of the trades of London were arrayed in Livery and a good time was about to begin.” But few of the trades were as yet incorporated.

The history of this unhappy reign, as concerns the City, is much occupied with charges, claims, and attacks upon the rights of the citizens of London. In these, the King was advised or led, by men who understood how to evade and to ignore the law. Edward II., like his predecessor Henry III., and his successor Richard II., was always in want of money and never without advisers to show him how to extort money from the City, whose wealth they believed to be inexhaustible. Among the last of these attempts was one made in the year 1321 by means of an Iter. The business is passed over by Maitland, Holinshed, and by the French Chronicle. Its history is related by R. R. Sharpe (London and the Kingdom). He says:

“Its professed object was to examine into unlawful colligations, confederations, and conventions by oaths, which were known (or supposed) to have been formed in the City. The annoyance caused by this Iter, the general stoppage of trade and commerce, the hindrance of municipal business, is realised when we consider that for six months not only the Mayor, Sheriffs, and Aldermen for the time being, but every one who had filled any office in the City since the holding of the last Iter—a period of nearly half a century—as well as twelve representatives from each ward, were called upon to be in constant attendance. All charters were to be produced, and persons who had grievances of any kind were invited to appear. Great commotion prevailed among the citizens upon receiving the King’s writ, and they at once addressed themselves to examining the procedure followed at former Iters.” ...

“The opening of the Iter did not augur well for the City. Fault was found at the outset, by Geoffrey le Scrop, the King’s Sergeant-pleader, because the Sheriffs had not attended so promptly as they should have done. The excuse, that they had only acted according to custom in waiting for the grant of a safe-conduct, was held unsatisfactory, and nothing would please him but that the City should be at once taken into the King’s hand.

Again, when the citizens claimed to record their liberties and customs by word of mouth without being compelled to reduce them into writing, as the justices had ordered, the only reply they got was that they did so at their own peril. Three days were consumed in preliminary discussion of points of etiquette and questions of minor importance.

On the fourth day the Mayor and citizens put in their claim of liberties, which they supported in various charters. The justiciars desired answers on three points, which were duly made, and matters seemed to be getting forward when there arrived orders from the King that the justiciars should inquire as to the ancient right of the Aldermen to record their liberties orally in the King’s Courts. Having heard what the citizens had to say on this point, the justiciars were instructed to withhold their judgment; and this and other questions touching the liberties of the City were to be postponed for future determination.

On the ninth day of the Iter, a long schedule, containing over a hundred articles upon which the Crown desired information, was delivered to each ward of the City. Days and weeks were consumed in considering various presentments, besides private suits and pleas of the Crown. Suits were determined in the Great Hall of the Tower facing the Thames, whilst pleas of the Crown were heard in the Lesser Hall, beneath the eastern tower. The justiciars occasionally protracted their sittings till dusk, much to the disgust of the citizens, whose business was necessarily at a stand-still, and as yet no indictments had been made. These were to come.”

First on a pretext of dilatory attendance the Sheriffs were reproved and the City taken into the King’s hands; then, when the citizens put in their claims and pleaded their rights, everything was disputed, discussed, and deferred. The Mayor was deposed, and one Richard de Kendole took his place as the King’s Commissioner; indictments were issued against certain leading citizens on one pretext or another; and after five weary months the Iter was brought to an abrupt conclusion, having effected nothing. The reason of this was the rebellion of the Earl of Hereford, which made it dangerous to exasperate the citizens too much. The King’s Commissioner retired and a new Mayor was elected.

The Earl of Hereford wrote a letter to the City asking for an interview. The Mayor, Hamo de Chigwell, a diplomatist of a high order, managed so as to keep on terms both with the King and the Lords. He promised that he would not aid the Spensers nor would he oppose the Lords: the City, in a word, proclaimed neutrality. The Mayor preserved order by a patrol of a thousand men. The events which followed belong to the history of England; London played her part: she sent a contingent with the King to punish Sir Bartholomew de Badlesmere for an insult offered to the Queen; she gave the king 500 archers to fight at Boroughbridge, when the Earl of Lancaster was taken prisoner. After taking part in the defeat of Lancaster the people of London set him up as a Saint: they declared that miracles were wrought at his tomb. Edward tried to force a “Charter of Service” binding the Londoners to go out with him to war, but the City stood firm: Edward’s time was nearly completed. The Queen came over with the avowed intention of banishing the Spensers. The King fled from London, and London rose in open revolt. Edward, before leaving, placed the town in the hands of Sir John de Weston, gave the custody of the City to Walter Stapleton, Bishop of Exeter, and then set out for the western part of the kingdom, for the defence of his favourites, and, as it turned out, to meet his death. The determination with which the Prince constantly stood by his favourites argues obstinacy at least as a quality which might have been turned to better purpose.

Hamo de Chigwell, who was a fishmonger, seems to have led one party and Nicholas Farringdon, a goldsmith, another; but the King appears to have set up and deposed both in turn and with impartiality. In 1326, when the Queen was in Flanders and her lands were seized, Hamo de Chigwell was Mayor. The streets of London were every day the scene of rioting and fighting; the trades fought with each other; the partisans of the Queen fought with the partisans of the King. When the Queen came over bringing her son with her she sent a letter to London with a proclamation denouncing the Spensers. This proclamation amid the cheers of the people was affixed to the Cross in Chepe. Hamo de Chigwell forsook his post and fled to the Black Friars for safety. Hither came the commons and forced him to proclaim the enemies of the King and Queen and their son. And they showed that they meant what they said by seizing one William Marshall, an adherent of the Spensers, and murdering him. It is a curious story of wild justice. The City was for some time entirely in the hands of the common people, who robbed and murdered all suspected of being favourable to the King and the Spensers. The events are thus graphically related by the French Chronicle:—

“At this time, at Saint Michael, Lady Isabelle, the Queen, and Sir Edward, her son, sent their letters to the commons of London, to the effect that they should assist in destroying the enemies of the land: but received no answer in return, as to their wishes thereon, through fear of the King. Wherefore a letter was sent to London by the Queen and her son, and was fixed at daybreak upon the Cross in Chepe, and a copy of the letter on the windows elsewhere, upon Thursday, that is to say, the Feast of Saint Dionis (October 9), to the effect that the commons should be aiding with all their power in destroying the enemies of the land, and Hugh le Despenser in especial, for the common profit of all the realm: and that the commons should send them information as to their wishes thereon. Wherefore the commonalty proceeded to wait upon the Mayor and other great men of the City at the Friars Preachers in London, upon the Wednesday before the Feast of Saint Luke (October 18), which then fell on a Saturday: so much so, that the Mayor, crying mercy with clasped hands, went to the Guildhall and granted the commons their demand, and cry was accordingly made in Chepe, that the enemies to the King, and the Queen, and their son, should all quit the City upon such peril as might ensue. It happened also on the same day, at the hour of noon, that some persons had recourse to arms, and seized one John le Marchal, a burgess of the City, in his own house near Walbrok, who was held as an enemy to the City and a spy of Sir Hugh le Despenser; and he was brought into Chepe and there despoiled and beheaded. Just after this, upon the same day and at the same hour, there came one Sir Walter de Stapelton, the then Bishop of Exestre and Treasurer to the King the year before, riding towards his hostel in Eldedeaneslane, to dine there; and just then he was proclaimed a traitor; upon hearing of which, he took to flight and rode towards Saint Paul’s Church, where he was met, and instantly dragged from his horse and carried into Chepe; and there he was despoiled, and his head cut off. Also, one of his esquires, who was a vigorous man, William Walle by name, took to flight, but was seized at London Bridge, brought back into Chepe and beheaded; while John de Padington, another, who was warden of the manor of the said Bishop, without Temple Bar, and was held in bad repute, was beheaded the same day in Chepe. Upon the same day, towards Vespers, came the choir of Saint Paul’s and took the headless body of the said Bishop, and carried it to Saint Paul’s Church: where they were given to understand that he had died under sentence: upon which, the body was carried to the church of Saint Clement without Temple Bar. But the people of that church put it out of the building: whereupon certain women and persons in the most abject poverty took the body, which would have been quite naked, had not one woman given a piece of old cloth to cover the middle, and buried it in a place apart without making a grave, and his esquire near him all naked, and without any office of priest or clerk: and this spot is called ‘the Lawless Church.’ The same night there was a burgess robbed, John de Charltone by name. Also, on the Thursday following, the Manors of Fynesbury and of Yvilane, which belonged to Master Robert Baldok, the King’s Chancellor, were despoiled of the wines and of all things that were therein, and many other robberies were committed in the City. Also, upon the same day, the commons of London were armed and assembled at the Lede Hall on Cornhille, and the Constable of the Tower there agreed with the commons that he would deliver unto them Sir John de Eltham, the King’s son; as also, the children of Sir Roger Mortimer, Sir Moriz de Berklee, Sir Bartholomew de Burghasche, and the other persons who had been imprisoned in the Tower, by reason of the dissensions for which Sir Thomas de Lancaster and other great men had been put to death: those who were released being sworn unto the commons that they would live and die with them in that cause, and that they would maintain the well being of the City and the peace thereof. Also, there were sworn and received into the protection of the City, the Dean of Saint Paul’s, the Official of Canterbury, the Dean of the Arches, the Abbots of Westminster and of Stratford, and all the religious, and all the justices and clerks, to do such watch and ward as unto them belonged to do. At the same time, upon the Vigil of Saint Luke (October 18) the tablet which Saint Thomas de Lancastre had painted and hung up in the church of Saint Paul was replaced upon the pillar: which tablet had been removed from the pillar by the rigorous command of the King’s writ. At the same time, the Friars Preachers took to flight, because they feared that they should be maltreated and annihilated: seeing that the commonalty entertained great enmity against them by reason of their haughty carriage, they not behaving themselves as friars ought to behave. At this time, it was everywhere the common talk that if Stephen de Segrave, Bishop of London, had been found, he would have been put to the sword with the others who were beheaded: as well as some Justiciars and others, who betook themselves elsewhere in concealment so that they could not be found.”

G. W. Wilson & Co.

SHRINE OF KING EDWARD II., GLOUCESTER CATHEDRAL

The condition of London during the later years of Edward II. was miserable. There was no authority: the King deposed one Mayor and set up another; the crafts quarrelled and fought with each other; the popular sympathies were with Queen Isabella: we have seen how these sympathies ended with robbery and murder; the Black Friars who were thought to favour the King had to fly for their lives.

On the 15th of November 1326 the Queen sent the Bishop of Winchester into the City. He met the Aldermen at Guildhall, received the freedom of the City, swore to maintain its franchise and then presented a letter from the Queen restoring to the citizens the right of electing their Mayor—a right withheld since the Iter of 1321. They showed their sense of obligation by electing two citizens, named Richard de Betoyne and John Gisors, who had been active in assisting the escape of Mortimer from the Tower in 1322.

Mortimer himself, with the Archbishop of Canterbury and a large following, repaired to the Guildhall early in the year 1327, and there swore to maintain the liberties of the City. A few days later the unhappy Edward was brutally murdered.

[CHAPTER VII]
EDWARD III

EDWARD III. (1312-1377)
From a print in the British Museum.

The letter from the Queen in November 1326; the visit of Mortimer in 1327 and his oath taken before the Mayor and Chamberlain; and the first acts of the new reign—not of the new King, who was not yet of age,—all together prove the importance of the City in the minds of the new rulers. For the first acts were the grants of three simultaneous charters.

The Liber Albus contains a brief synopsis of the contents of the first of these charters, which Maitland rightly calls golden. It is dated 6th March 1327:—