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:—

“That the citizens of London shall have their liberties according to the form of the Great Charter, etc.; and that impediments of usurpation upon them in that behalf made shall be repealed and annulled.

Also, that the Mayor of London for the time being shall be one of the Justiciars for (the delivery of) the Gaol of Newgate.

Also, that the citizens of London shall have Infangthef, and Outfangthef, and the chattels of all felons who shall be adjudged by them as such within the liberties of the City aforesaid.

Also, that whereas the citizens of London had been charged by the Sheriffwick of London and Middlesex in the sum of four hundred pounds into the Exchequer of his lordship the King, the said citizens shall in future have one hundred pounds thereof remitted.

Also, that the citizens of London may devise their tenements within the liberties as well in mortmain as in any other way.

That the Sheriffs of London, so often as it shall happen that they are amerced for any offence, shall be amerced according to the extent of such offence, in the same manner as the other Sheriffs of the realm.

Also, that for the escape of thieves the Sheriffs of London shall on no account be charged or amerced otherwise than other Sheriffs, on this side Trent; who for such escapes are amerced, it is said, in the sum of one hundred shillings.

Also, that the citizens of London shall not be charged otherwise than as of old they have been wont to be charged, for the custody of those who flee to churches for immunity, etc.

Also that the citizens of London may remove and seize all Kidels in the waters of Thames and Medewaie, and shall have the punishments therefore unto us pertaining.

Also, that foreign merchants coming into England shall sell their merchandise within forty days after their arrival, and shall lodge at the tables of the free hosts of the City.

Also, that neither the Steward or the Marshal nor the Clerk of the Market shall sit within the liberties of the City, or exercise any office there.

Also, that the Mayor for the time being shall exercise the office of Escheator within the City aforesaid.

Also, that the citizens of London shall not be compelled to go or to send to war beyond the City aforesaid.

Also, that the Constable of the Tower of London shall not make prises, by land or by water, of provisions or of any other things whatsoever.

Also, that the citizens of London shall have wardens of the number of their fellow-citizens to hold pleas in all good fairs of England, pleas of land and pleas of the Crown excepted.

Also, that the Sheriffs for the time being shall not be compelled to make oath at our Exchequer, except at the rendering of their accounts.

Also, that the citizens shall have all their liberties and free customs, as from of old they were wont to enjoy the same, notwithstanding that the said citizens at the Iter of Henry de Stantone and his associates, etc., were challenged as to the same.

Also, that one writ shall suffice in the Exchequer, and in every place of his lordship the King, for the allowance of their charters.

Also, that no summons, attachment, or execution shall be made within the liberties of the City by any officer of his lordship the King, with writ or without writ, but only by the officers of the said (City).

Also, that the Sheriffs of London shall have wholly the forfeitures of victuals, and of other articles and merchandise, according to the tenor of the Charters, etc.

Also, that the citizens of London in future shall at their Iters, be dealt with according to the same laws by which they were dealt with at the Iters holden in the times of their lordships John and Henry, late Kings of England, and other their progenitors.

Also, that nothing in the Iter aforesaid done or attempted against the liberties and free customs of the citizens, shall act to their prejudice or prevent them from being dealt with as from of old.

Also, that the citizens of London, in aids, grants, and contributions, shall be taxed and shall contribute with the commonalty of the realm, like men of the counties and not like men of the cities and boroughs; and that they shall be quit of all other tallages.

Also, that the liberties of the City of London shall not be taken into the hand of his lordship the King for any personal trespass or personal judgment of any officer of the said City; and that no Warden shall in the same on such pretext be appointed.

Also, that no officer of his lordship the King shall make any prise within the City aforesaid, or without, of the goods of citizens against their will, unless he shall immediately make due payment for the same.

Also, that no prise shall be made of the wines of the said citizens by any servant (of ourselves) or of our heirs, or of any other person, against their will; that is to say, (prisage) of one tun before the mast and of one tun behind the mast.

Also, that no officer or purveyor of the King or of his heirs shall trade, by himself or by others, within the said City or without, in anything as to which their offices are concerned.

Also, that the lands lying without the City of such citizens of London as have been, or shall hereafter be, officers of the City aforesaid, shall be held liable for keeping the said City harmless, etc., as to matters that concern their offices, in the same way as their tenements within the same City.

Also, that no market shall in future be held within seven miles in circuit of the City aforesaid.

Also, that all Inquisitions to be taken by the Justiciars and other officers of the King as to men of the said City shall be taken at Saint Martin’s le Grand, and not elsewhere, except inquisitions taken at Iters at the Tower and for delivery of the Gaol of Newgate.

Also, that no citizen shall be impleaded or troubled at the Exchequer or elsewhere by bill; except as to those matters which concern his lordship the King or his heirs.

Also, that the citizens of London shall have all their liberties and free customs whole and unimpaired, as freely as they ever had the same (the Statute for merchants, to the injury of the liberties of the City aforesaid, in the Parliament at York in the ninth year of Edward the Third enacted to the contrary notwithstanding), etc.” (Riley’s Trans. pp. 129-132.)

It will be observed that this charter is not only a confirmation of all the ancient Privileges and Liberties, but it creates new ones. (1) The Mayor was appointed one of the Judges of Oyer and Terminer for the trials of criminals in Newgate; (2) the citizens were to have the right of Infang-thefe and Outfang-thefe, i.e. the right of trying every thief or robber taken within the City, and the right of bringing back to the City for trial every citizen apprehended elsewhere. (3) A right to the goods and chattels of all felons condemned within the City. (4) The remission of £100 a year on the rent of Middlesex. (5) The right of devising real property. (6) The Sheriffs of London to be amerced no otherwise than their brothers south of the Thames. (7) All Foreign Merchants to sell their goods within forty days. (8) The citizens not chargeable with the custody of those who take Sanctuary. (9) The King’s Marshal, Steward, or Clerk of the Household to have no authority in the City. (10) The Mayor to be the King’s escheator of felons’ goods. (11) The citizens who resort to country fairs to carry with them a Court of Pie Powder. (12) The citizens to be free from tallages, other than those assessed upon other places. (13) The City liberties not to be seized on account of the personal offences of any magistrate. (14) The King’s Purveyor to have no right to fix the price of anything. (15) And no market to be held within seven miles of the City.

The charter looked as if the citizens had been simply invited to take what they pleased in the way of liberties.

By another charter Southwark, i.e. the King’s Manor, not the whole of Southwark, was granted as a part of the City. By a third a general pardon for all late offences was also granted.

Maitland speaks of a dangerous insurrection of certain trades and of their parading the streets armed, killing many. The so-called “insurrection” seems to have been nothing more than a continuation of the late lawless brawls; the people had tasted the joy of fighting in the streets and wanted to continue that amusement. The King addressed a letter to the Mayor calling upon him to keep better order. A number of arrests were made and a good many persons were executed; but the riotous condition of the City continued. The chief cause of trouble was the continual quarrelling between the trades. Thus at this very time, viz. the first years of Edward III., the Mayor arranged a dispute, which led to free fighting in the streets, between the Saddlers of the one part and the Joiners, Painters, and Loriners of the other part.

“Be it remembered, that whereas a certain affray lately took place between the men of the trade of the saddlers of the City of London, on the one part, and the men of the trades of the joiners, painters, and loriners, as well in copper as in iron, of the same City, on the other part, by reason of a certain rancour and dissension which had lately arisen between them, namely, on Thursday, the Feast of our Lord’s Ascension (May 20) last past: upon which day, certain of them, on either side, strongly provided with an armed force, exchanged blows and manfully began to fight, as well in Chepe as in the street of Crepelgate, and elsewhere in the same City; on which occasion certain among them were wickedly, and against the peace of our Lord the King, killed, and many others mortally wounded; by reason of which dissension and exchange of blows, the greater part of the City was in alarm, to the great disgrace and scandal of the whole City, and the manifest peril thereof; which dissension and exchange of blows became so serious and so outrageous as hardly to be appeased through the intervention of the Mayor, Sheriffs, and officers of the City; such contention being however at last, so well as it might be, allayed by the Mayor, Sheriffs, and other officers of the City, the said Mayor and Sheriffs appointed a day for the men of the trades aforesaid to appear before them at the Guildhall, namely, the Friday following, being the morrow of Our Lord’s Ascension, to the end that they might set forth their reasons on either side.

Upon the said day, there came accordingly to the Guildhall the men of the said trades, and, in presence of the Mayor, Sheriffs, and Aldermen, did set forth their grievances in writing, Whereupon, a certain Petition was presented to the Mayor by the joiners, painters, and loriners. The causes of quarrel are too long to be detailed here. Suffice it to say that all these trades attempted then what they attempt still, and that they cried out on each other for wickedness.”

The reception of the Lady Philippa of Hainault, who came over to be married to the young King, was made an occasion for the display and magnificence which the City has always loved.

As soon as the King was crowned he set out to take the field against the Scots. The Londoners gave him a hundred horsemen fully equipped, and a hundred footmen, on the assurance that this gift would not be taken as a precedent. The expedition accomplished little, and the war was ended by the Treaty of Northampton, which angered the Londoners against Isabella and Mortimer excessively.

In November 1328 the Earl of Lancaster rose in revolt against the Queen-mother. How that rebellion fared we know. Mortimer came out of it, apparently, stronger than ever.

It is difficult to make out clearly what passed in London during and after the revolt of Lancaster. The citizens regarded the want of success in the Scottish Expedition as due to Mortimer and the Queen. But between anger and rebellion there may be a wide gulf. There were partisans of Lancaster and there were supporters of the Queen; the King’s name was used by both parties.

We have already, in the preceding reign, heard of Hamo de Chigwell: we find him now brought to trial; not for favouring the late King, but on a charge of feloniously appropriating two silver basins, the property of the Abbot of Bury St. Edmunds. He was convicted, but claimed the benefit of clergy, and was conveyed to the Bishop of London’s prison. His character is not of the clearest to decipher, but he was one of the foremost citizens of the time, and it was a time when they demanded much strength and resolution. A year later he was allowed to go free. But as the citizens prepared to make a demonstration of rejoicing and welcome, the Queen with alarm ordered his arrest. He escaped, however, and is heard of no more in the City. In 1332 he devised some property to the Dean and Chapter of St. Paul’s to found a chantry.

Before leaving England in 1329 the King sent to the City a general proclamation. No one was to carry arms in the City except the officers of the City. No one was to walk about the City after curfew; there were to be no covins or congregations; no tavern was to be kept open after curfew; nobody was to spread lies about the City; no one was to harbour a stranger more than one night and one day, if he did not wish to be answerable for him.

The question which occupied the City at this time was practically that of Free Trade. There had been certain towns at which was established the Staple; that is to say, the market from which wools could be exported. No wool was to be exported until it had remained at a staple for a period of forty days. The rule was relaxed by Edward II. in favour of all towns except London, merchants being allowed to remove wool after fifteen days. The merchants of London naturally complained of this exception, but at first without success.

A JOUST OR TOURNAMENT OF THE PERIOD
From Strutt’s Manners and Customs.

Edward proposed, next, to remove the Staple to the Continent, but the opposition of the merchants obliged him to renounce this project. He thereupon abolished all Staples, and established Free Trade in Wool. He also invited Flemings to come over, settle in England, and carry on their weaving here.

Cheapside would seem to present a narrow and confined area for the manœuvres and the combat of mounted knights, yet King Edward held a great Tournament there in the year 1331. We must remember that between the Church of St. Peter in the west and the House of St. Thomas of Acon in the east the street was a great deal wider than it was afterwards: for a length of 750 feet east and west it had a width of something like 150 feet; the space being occupied chiefly by stalls. It narrowed on the east side at the Poultry, and on the west side at St. Peter’s Church, part of the burial ground of which still remains. Stow’s account of what happened at the Tournament is as follows:—

“In the middle of the City of London in a street called Cheape, the stone pavement being covered with sand, that the horses might not slide when they strongly set their feet to the ground, the King held a tournament three days together, with the nobility, valiant men of the realm, and other some strange knights. And to the end the beholders might with the better ease see the same, there was a wooden scaffold erected across the street, like unto a tower, wherein Queen Philippa and many other ladies, richly attired, and assembled from all parts of the realm, did stand to behold the jousts: but the higher frame, on which the ladies were placed, brake in sunder, whereby they were with some shame forced to fall down, by reason whereof the knights, and such as were underneath were grievously hurt: wherefore the Queen took great care to save the carpenters from punishment, and through her prayers (which she made upon her knees) pacified the King and Council, and thereby purchased great love of the people. After which time the King caused a shed to be strongly made of stone for himself, the Queen, and other estates to stand on, and there to behold the joustings, and other shows, at their pleasure, by the Church of St. Mary Bow, as is showed in Cordwainer Street Ward.”

The stone “selde” or shed, as Stow calls it, was still standing in his time. “Without the north side of St. Mary Bow towards West Cheap a fair building of stone called in record Seldam: a shed which greatly darkeneth the said church; for by means thereof all the windows and doors of that side are stopped up.” Henry IV. granted the place to certain Mercers who established shops there but did not pull it down or alter it, and it remained until the Great Fire as the place from which great personages witnessed City shows. The places most commonly used for tournaments were Smithfield and Tothill Fields. At the former was held a very great tournament thirty years later, in the presence of the King and Queen, and another forty years after there was another when the old King conducted thither, to grace the sports, his mistress Alice Perrers, sitting in a triumphal chariot, as the “Lady of the Sun.”

The example in anarchy and disorder witnessed during the last reign makes it less surprising to hear of fresh riots in London, apparently among the Craftsmen. The King addressed a strong letter to the Mayor calling upon the City to repress these disorders. Further measures were taken against disorderly folk in the City but without success, since the King was forced to write again upon the subject. On Wednesday, 12th April, Sir Robert de Asheby, Clerk of the King, summoned the Mayor and Aldermen before the King’s Council at Westminster. Here they were informed that the King was going to war; that this was a costly amusement; and that he desired the City to lend him £20,000. The Mayor begged for time, and called a meeting of the Aldermen and the better sort, not at Guildhall, but at the Chapter House of Westminster. They began by offering the King 5000 marks, which is £3333: 6: 8. This the King refused, with an intimation that if they could do no better than that, he should ask for a list of the principal citizens. They therefore held another meeting and offered to lend the King £5000—“although it was a hard thing and difficult to do.” This offer was accepted. To raise this sum the whole of the City was assessed, sparing none. The richest man in the City was William de Caustom, Alderman, who was assessed at £400; that is to say, his share of the loan was set down at £400.

In 1338 there was a scare about a French descent. The King ordered the City to be “strictly closed” and fortified against any sudden attack by water. Everybody was to aid in this work, whether belonging to a religious community or not.

An inventory of munitions of war was drawn up in 1339. It shows that at a house near the Tower called the “Bretasche” there were 7 springalds (large crossbows); 380 quarels or bolts feathered with leatten or latone (a mixed metal); 500 quarels of wood; 29 cords; and 8 bows of ash for the springalds. At Aldgate 1 springald and 40 quarels; in the Chamber of the Guildhall 6 engines of latone usually called “gonnes” and 5 rollers for the same; also pellets of lead weighing 4½ cwt.; and 32 pounds of powder. This is the earliest mention of guns in England, the next earliest occurring five years later. Riley suggests that they had been brought over to this country by the Bardi from Florence whose guns had been used in war as early as 1326. He quotes Chaucer, House of Fame, book iii.:

“Swift as a pellet out of a gonne

When fire is in the powder ronne.”

The King and the citizens were on friendly terms throughout: but from time to time we see a touch of the Plantagenet.

The assessment shows the comparative wealth of the various wards:

A riot in the streets between the Fishmongers and the Skinners led to results much more useful than a King’s letter, for two rioters were executed—an example greatly needed and extremely useful.

Among the ships of Edward’s Fleet were three belonging to London: “La Jonette,” “La Cogge,” and “La Sainte Marie Cogne.” The last ship belonged to William Haunsard, ex-Sheriff. London also sent a contingent of nearly 200 men fully armed on board these ships. These ships were among those which fought in the great victory of Sluys. The battle is thus described by the French Chronicle:—

“In this year all the mariners of England, by commission of our Lord the King, had all their ships speedily assembled and victualled, and hardy and vigorous men from all parts well equipped and armed at all points, in every place to fight for life or death. And when the fleet of ships of England was assembled in manner aforesaid, Sir Edward, our King, and his people were in the parts of Bury Saint Edmund’s: and from thence he passed on to Orwelle, where he put to sea, with his people beyond number, upon the Thirsday next before the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist (24 June) which was on a Saturday: and upon the next Friday morning, our King espied his enemies upon the sea, and said ‘Because our Lord Jesus Christ was put to death on a Friday, we will not shed blood upon that day.’

The wind had then been in the east for a whole fortnight before the King put to sea, but by the grace of Him who is Almighty, the wind shifted immediately to the west: so that by the grace of God, the King and his fleet had both wind and weather to their mind. And so they sailed on until sunrise at break of day: when he saw his enemies so strongly equipped, that it was a most dreadful thing to behold: for the fleet of the ships of France was so strongly bound together with massive chains, castles, bretasches, and bars. But, notwithstanding this, Sir Edward our King, said to all those who were around him in the fleet of England:—‘Fair lords and brethren of mine, be nothing dismayed, but be all of good cheer, and he who for me shall begin the fight and shall combat with a right good heart, shall have the benison of God Almighty: and everyone shall retain that which he shall gain.’

And so soon as our King had said this, all were of right eager heart to avenge him of his enemies. And then our mariners hauled their sails half-mast high, and hauled up their anchors in manner as though they intended to fly: and when the fleet of France beheld this, they loosened themselves from their heavy chains to pursue us. And forthwith our ships turned back upon them, and the mêlée began, to the sound of trumpets, nakers, viols, tabors, and many other kinds of minstrelsy. And then did our King, with three hundred ships, vigorously assail the French with their five hundred great ships and gallies, and eagerly did our people exert great diligence to give battle to the French. Our archers and our arbalesters began to fire as densely as hail falls in winter, and our engineers hurled so steadily, that the French had not power to look or to hold up their heads. And in the meantime, while this assault lasted, our English people with a great force boarded their gallies, and fought with the French hand to hand, and threw them out of their ships and gallies. And always our King encouraged to fight bravely with his enemies, he himself being in the cog called ‘Thomas of Winchelsee.’ And at the hour of tierce there came to them a ship of London, which belonged to William Haunsard, and it did much good in the said battle. For the battle was so severe and so hardly contested, that the assault lasted from noon all day and all night, and the morrow until the hour of prime: and when the battle was discontinued no French man remained alive, save only Spaudefisshe, who took to flight with four and twenty ships and gallies.”

The Battle of Sluys was followed by the Siege of Tournay which proved fruitless: the King came home without any money, and furious against his ministers, whom he sent to prison. An inquiry was ordered as to the mode of collecting the King’s revenues in the City. The citizens objected to the judges holding this session in the City; they refused to answer any questions unless their liberties were respected; they raised a special fund for the purpose of defending the City’s rights. The King retorted by ordering an Iter, but being unwilling to alienate the City, which was so useful in time of war, he desisted and gave the citizens a new Charter (26th March 1341). At the same time they were called upon to provide twenty-six ships fully equipped and victualled, and the King for his part got another thousand pounds for himself. After a truce for three years the war was renewed. In March 1346 the London contingent of 600 archers, 100 men-at-arms, and 200 horsemen, were called out and paraded on Tothill Fields. They sailed with the King’s fleet of a thousand ships on the 10th July 1346.

After the battle of Crecy the King sent word to the Mayor that many of his men had deserted, and that all who could be found were to be seized and sent back, whether they were knights, esquires, or of lower order. This seems to show that they went out on short service time which had expired. It also shows that no police existed to prevent deserters from taking ship across the Channel. Another fleet was fitted out to which the City contributed two ships. All the ships in the port were also seized.

After the surrender of Calais the King came home, his army laden with spoil. “And now,” says Holinshed, “it seemed to the English people that the sunne breake foorth after a long cloudie season, by reason both of the great plentie of althings, and remembrance of the late glorious victories: for there were few women that were housekeepers within this land, but they had some furniture of household that had beene brought to them out of France as part of the Spoile got in Caen, Calis, Carenten, or some other good towne. And beside household stuffe, the English maides and matrones were bedecked and trimmed up in French women’s jewels and apparell, so that as the French women lamented for the loss of these things, so our women rejoiced of the gaine.”

In the twentieth year of Edward’s reign he issued an ordinance providing for the expulsion of all leprous persons from the City. “Forasmuch,” he begins, “as we have been given to understand that many persons, as well of the City aforesaid, as others coming to the same City, being smitten with the blemish of leprosy, do publicly dwell among the other citizens and sound persons and there continually abide; and do not hesitate to communicate with them as well in public places as in private: and that some of them endeavouring to contaminate others with that abominable blemish (that so to their own wretched solace they may have the more fellows in suffering) as well as in the way of mutual communication, and by the contagion of their polluted breath, and by sexual intercourse with women in stews and other secret places detestably frequenting the same, do so taint persons who are sound, both male and female, to the great injury of the people dwelling in the City aforesaid, and the manifest peril of other persons to the same City resorting....” And he orders the removal of all such persons from the City within fifteen days, and forbids for the future any one to harbour in his house any one “smitten with the blemish of leprosy.” This order seems to have been obeyed.

It is unfortunate that we do not know the number of the wretched lepers who were thus driven out. The disease itself, the ravages of which had been terrible, was now slowly disappearing: within two hundred years from this time it had practically disappeared. That there were still a good number of lepers in London is proved by the fact that the citizens in obedience to the law began to build lazar houses outside the City. Three at least there were already: that of St. Giles in the Fields, founded by Queen Matilda, wife of Henry I.; that of St. James in the Fields, founded for leprous virgins; and that of Great Ilford in Essex, founded by King Stephen, the only one now left of the leprous foundations. The new lazar houses erected were: one at the Lock without Southwark in Kent Street; one between Mile End Road and Stratford-le-Bow; one at Kingsland between Shoreditch and Stoke Newington; and one at Knightsbridge. One is mentioned twenty years later at Hackney. Another was founded a hundred years later by one William Yeoman of the Crown, himself a leper, on the high road between Highgate and Holloway. Twenty-six years later John Mayn, a baker and a leper, “who had oftentimes been before commanded by the Mayor and Aldermen to depart from the City” (oftentimes! Here is a proof of the weakness of the Executive!), was finally ordered to depart at once. It is not stated whether he obeyed.

In 1348 the Black Death broke out. We shall hear of this again. It is sufficient here to record that probably two-thirds of the whole population of London were killed by this pestilence. The churchyards were full, and would hold no more bodies. The Bishop of London gave one piece of ground and Sir Walter Manny gave another, making in all over 13 acres of land for the burial of the dead: in a short time 50,000 persons were lying there. Another piece of ground given by a priest named John Cony for the same object on the east side of the City was also speedily filled with thousands of bodies.

Scarcely had the City recovered from this calamity when it was called upon to join in suppressing pirates who in time of war and trouble always infested the Channel. The City furnished two ships, one with forty men-at-arms and sixty archers, commanded by Andrew Turk, and one with thirty men-at-arms and forty archers, commanded by Gosceline de Cleve. The fleet destroyed a Spanish fleet and captured twenty-four ships laden with merchandise.

The return of the Black Prince with his royal captive after the battle of Poitiers was an occasion for such a display as the City always loved. A thousand of the citizens, richly clad and well mounted, met the Prince at Southwark: the King of France rode a splendid charger: beside him the victorious Prince rode a little galloway. At the foot of London Bridge they were met by the Mayor, Aldermen, Sheriffs, and the several craftsmen in their liveries and colours. All through the streets the houses were hung with tapestries and glittered with arms and armour of all kinds. It was perhaps the greatest day for the national pride and rejoicing that the City had ever seen.

At the expiration of the Two Years’ truce the war broke out again. A French fleet swept along the coast of Sussex landing an army of 20,000 men, who committed the atrocities common to an invading force, burning towns, destroying crops, killing men. The City of London fitted out a fleet of 80 vessels with 14,000 men, including archers, but these were too late to meet the enemy.

It was at this time that Henry Picard, the Vintner, gave that most famous of all the City banquets, at which he entertained the King of England, the King of France, the King of Scotland, the King of Denmark, and the King of Cyprus, as well as the Black Prince.

The war lingered on for some years, but there were no more glorious victories, and in 1375 peace was concluded. A change was attempted in the constitution of the City; by this the election of Mayor, Sheriffs, and Common Council was placed in the hands of the guilds instead of the wards, but after ten years the new plan was found not to work so well as the old, to which the City returned.

In 1365 an important ordinance was passed concerning what things a tenant in leaving a house might take with him:—

“It is ordained that if any persons hire a tenement, House, or Houses, in the city of London or in the suburbs of the said city, to hold the same for the term of Life, or of Years, or only from year to year, or from quarter to quarter: if the said tenant shall make, or cause to be made, any pentyses or other easements in the said tenement, house, outhouses, fixed with nails of iron or wooden pegs to the premises, or to the soil thereof: it shall not be lawful for such tenant to remove such pentyses or easements at the end of the term, or at any other time to destroy them: but they shall always remain to the landlord of the said premises, as a parcel thereof.”

This ordinance was translated from Latin into English with the following explanation:—

“Whereas nowe of late amonge divers people was sprongen Matter of doute upon the most olde custome had and used in this Cyte of London, of suche thyngys which by tenauntys terms of lyfe or yerys been affixyd unto houses, without specyall lycence of the owner of the soyle, whether they owe to remayne unto the Owner of the Soyle, as Parcel of the same, or ellys whether it shall be lawfull unto suche Tenantys on thende of her terme all suche thyngys affyxed to remove.

Whereupon olde Bokys seen, and many Recordys, olde processys, and judementys of the sayd Cyte, it was declared by the Mayre and Aldermen, for an olde prescrybed custome of the Cyte aforesayd, that all suche easementys fixyd unto houses, or to soyle by suche tenementys, without specyal and expresse lycence of the owner of the soyle, if they be affyxed with Nayles of Irne or of tree, as pentyses, glasse, lockys, benchys or ony suche other, or ellse yf they be affyxed with Morter or Lyme, or of erther or ony other Morter as forneys, leedys, candorous Chemyneys, Corbels, pavemettis, or suche other: or elles yf plantes be roetyd in the grounds, as vines, trees, grasse stounks, trees of fruit, etc., it shall not be laufull into suche tenauntys in the end of her terme, or ony other tyme therin, nor only of them, to put awaye more, or plucke up in ony wyse, but that they shall alway remayne to the ownar of the soyle, as parcels of the same soyle or Tenement.”

At the Good Parliament of 1376 three City Aldermen were charged with malversation. All three were deprived of their posts: one was imprisoned, one fled to Flanders to escape trial, one was deprived of his patent of monopoly. With the design of winning favour from the young heir to the Crown, the City resolved upon presenting him with an entertainment and gifts. The Prince with his mother and his suite was living at the Palace of Kennington.

SIR HENRY PICARD ENTERTAINING THE KINGS OF ENGLAND, FRANCE, SCOTLAND, DENMARK, AND CYPRUS
From the Fresco painting in the Royal Exchange, London, by permission of the Artist, A. Chevallier Tayler.

“For which purpose, on the Sunday before Candlemas one hundred and thirty-two citizens on horseback in Masquerade attended by trumpets, a variety of other musical instruments, and a vast number of flambeaux, marched from Newgate through the City and Borough of Southwark, to the Prince’s residence aforesaid. In the first division rode eight and forty persons dressed in the habits of Esquires, with Red Coats, Say[2] Gowns, and beautiful Vizards. Then followed the same number of persons apparelled like knights, in the same livery as the former. Then rode one in a very pompous imperial habit, followed at some distance by a person resembling the Pope, attended by four and twenty Cardinals: followed by ten persons in hideous black vizards, as legates from an infernal Pontiff. This Cavalcade of masquers being arrived at the Palace, they dismounted and entered the hall, whither instantly repaired the Prince, the Princess of Wales, and the Nobility their attendants. They were saluted by the masquers, who, producing a pair of Dice, showed their inclination of playing with the Prince. The Dice were so artfully prepared that, whenever the Prince threw, he was sure to win, and having thrown three Times, he won a Bowl, a Cup, and a Ring, all of massy gold: after which the said masquers set the Princess, the Duke of Lancaster, and all the other lords, each with a gold ring which they likewise won: whereupon they were most sumptuously entertained at supper: and, after having the honour of dancing with the Prince and Nobility, they joyfully returned to the City.”

In 1371 the King granted a charter ordering that no strangers, i.e. none except freemen, should be allowed to sell by retail, within the City and the suburbs. This privilege had always been resented by the citizens, who were more in favour of free trade.

The reign of Edward III. is remarkable for the regulations of the crafts and companies which were issued, and the formation of companies under rules and by royal license. In Riley’s Memorials we find Charters, Articles, and Ordinances granted to the following long list, between 1327 and 1377. The list is set down in chronological order:—

Pellipers, or Skinners, Girdlers, Hostlers and Haymongers, Tapicers, Butchers, Bakers, Taverners, Vintners, Cutters, Brewers, Spurriers, Whittawyers, Turners, Heaumers, Hatters, Pewterers, Glovers, Shearmen, Furbishers, Braelers, Masons, Farriers, Wax Chandlers, Alien Weavers, Tylers, Dyers, Plumbers, Tawyers, Flemish Weavers, Bowyers, Fletchers, Pouch Makers, Blacksmiths, Leather Sellers, Poulterers, Cordwainers, Barbers, Fullers, Hurers, and Cheesemongers. Some of the articles of the new Companies will be dealt with in another place.

The Black Death of 1349-50 caused a dearth of labour which ran up wages enormously.

Some attempt to fly in the face of the effect of demand upon supply was made soon after the Pestilence by a Proclamation issued (24 Ed. III. 1350) by order of the Mayor, Walter Turk, the Aldermen and the Commonality in which wages were laid down “to be held and firmly observed for ever.” This proclamation gave the craftsmen 6d. a day in the summer months and 5½d. a day in the winter. Any employer who paid more was fined 40s.:—any craftsman who took more was sent to prison for 40 days. It seems strange that in a commercial and industrial city it could be supposed possible to regulate wages and prices “for ever,” or for a week. Like so many other mediæval laws and ordinances there is no proof whatever of any obedience, while in the trials that follow there is no case reported of disobedience. We may assert without fear of contradiction that the proclamation fell dead, and that the craftsmen continued to make the most of the situation.

The relations of Edward III. and the City, on the whole of a cordial kind, are illustrated by some of the papers in Riley’s Memorials. Thus, in November 1328, the King and the Queen being at Westminster, the City resolved to send them a present, and these were the seasonable gifts they sent:—

“To our Lord the King:—10 carcasses of beeves, price £7: 10s.; 20 pigs, price £4;—these being bought of Nicholas Derman: 24 swans, price £6; 24 bitterns and herons, price £4: 4s.; and 10 dozens of capons, price 50s.;—the same being bought of John Brid and John Scott: 5 stone of wax, price £19: 19: 0¾; 4 barrels of sturgeon, price £12; 6 pike and 6 eels, price 10 marks;—these being bought of Hugh Medefrei.

To our Lady the Queen:—5 carcasses of beeves, price 75s.; 12 pigs, price 48s.;—these being bought of the said Nicholas Derman: 12 pheasants, price 48s.; 12 swans, price 60s.;—these being bought of the said John Brid and John Scot:—3 stone of wax, price £11: 19: 5¼; 2 barrels of sturgeon, price £6; also, 3 pike and 3 eels, price 66s. 8d.

Sum total paid for the gift aforesaid, £95: 13: 6.”

Nine years later, at the meeting of Parliament, held in London, the City voted a great number of gifts to the King, the Queen, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishops of London and Durham and many great Lords. To some, money was given, to others, silver plate, silk cloths, gloves for holding the marks. Apparently, the gifts were intended to buy their favour, for the City got a charter which secured their liberties, although they had appeared in danger from the new statutes about the Staple.

While mentioning these presents we may state that in the year 1363 we find a dozen trades uniting to send a small present of money, amounting in all to no more than £40, to the King. Four companies also present King John of France, then a captive, with money amounting in all to £24: 6: 8; and in the year 1371 a magnificent present of plate costing, for the time, a vast sum of money, was given to the Black Prince on his return from Gascony.

In 1357 the King, evidently from his own observation, called attention to the lay stalls and filth allowed to accumulate on the banks of the river, and gave orders that all should be cleaned up without delay. In the same year he ordered the streets to be kept free of such impediments. And, which shows a glimmering of sanitary science, he orders that this refuse shall be put into carts and taken out of the City, or into the dung boats which were probably intended to carry the refuse down the river; but nothing was to be thrown into the river. When one remembers the uses to which the Walbrook and the Fleet, together with the banks of the Thames, had been put, it is easy to understand that it was necessary to do something. At the same time, the Thames is a broad river, and capable of cleansing itself from a good deal of corruption.

In some cases of robbery or violence the King interfered himself. Thus in 1359 the King ordered the Mayor to make Inquisition into a robbery committed at the House of the Crutched Friars in Hart Street, Aldgate, and to send him the result of his Inquisition. The case is curious, one that implicated certain Brethren of the House. The things stolen consisted of a chalice, two sets of vestments, many valuable books and other goods, the whole valued at £87: 13: 4, i.e. over £1200 of our money. The robbers were Robert de Stannowe, John de Dunmowe, and Richard de Evesham, all Brethren of the Holy Cross. The witnesses, John Bretoun and eleven others, swore that these three were all malefactors and disturbers of the Peace of our Lord the King, and that they stole these things and “committed other enormities.” What became of the sacrilegious three is not known. Possibly the Bishop’s prison could reveal the secret.

There is also a proclamation against sturdy vagrants who get alms “which would otherwise go to many poor folk, such as lepers, blind, halt, and persons oppressed with old age and divers other maladies.” They are ordered to be put in the stocks and then to forswear the City for ever. Nothing is as yet said about whipping vagrants through the streets.

There is a proclamation against evening markets. Nothing was to be sold after sunset because it is easy in the dark to pass off old things for new.

Another scare of a French descent took place in 1370, when it was reported that certain galleys were lying off the Foreland of Thanet. It was ordered that a watch should be kept every night between the Tower and Billingsgate, to consist of 40 men-at-arms and 60 archers. The companies were to form the watch in the following order:—

• Sunday. The Ironmongers, the Armourers, and the Cutlers.
• Monday. The Tawyers, the Spurriers, the Bowyers, and the Girdlers.
• Tuesday. The Drapers and the Tailors.
• Wednesday. The Mercers and the Apothecaries.
• Thursday. The Fishmongers and the Butchers.
• Friday. The Pelterers and the Vintners.
• Saturday. The Goldsmiths and the Saddlers.

The bad government of London at this time is illustrated by the decay of archery. The recent victories in France had proved the immense superiority of the archers to the mounted knights in battle: yet we find the youth of London allowed to neglect a weapon which could only be serviceable if its practice was encouraged and ordered. On this subject we find that the King sent the following letter to the Sheriffs of London in the year 1365:—

“The King to the Sheriffs of London, greeting.

Because the People of our Realm, as well of good Quality as mean, have commonly in their Sports before these Times exercised the Skill of shooting Arrows; whence it is well known, that Honour and Profit have accrued to our whole Realm, and to us, by the Help of God, no small Assistance in our warlike Acts; and now the said Skill being, as it were, wholly laid aside, the same People please themselves in hurling of Stones and Wood and Iron; and some in Hand-ball, Foot-ball, Bandy-ball, and in Cambuck, or Cockfighting; and some also apply themselves to other dishonest Games, and less Profitable or useful; whereby the said Realm is likely, in a short time, to become destitute of Archers:

We, willing to apply a seasonable Remedy to this, command you, that in Places in the foresaid City, as well within the Liberties as without, where you shall see it expedient, you cause publick Proclamation to be made, that every one of the said City, strong in Body, at leisure Times on Holidays, use in their Recreations Bows and Arrows, or Pellets, or Bolts, and learn and exercise the Art of Shooting; forbidding all and singular on our Behalf, that they do not after any Manner apply themselves to the throwing of Stones, Wood, Iron, Hand-ball, Foot-ball, Bandy-ball, Cambuck, or Cockfighting, nor such other like vain Plays, which have no Profit in them, or concern themselves therein, under Pain of Imprisonment. Witness the King at Westminster, the twelfth Day of June.”

In the same year the City was visited by a company of Flagellants. They were Dutch and a hundred and twenty in number. They marched through the streets stripped to the waist, wearing hats with one red cross before and one behind: in their hands they carried whips. They sang a Litany as they walked, and then began to flagellate each other till the blood ran down their bodies. This they are said to have done twice a day either in the streets or in St. Paul’s.

In the disturbances and quarrels which marked the conclusion of the third Edward’s reign and the commencement of Richard’s, it is difficult to separate the part taken by London from the general history of the country. It was a gloomy time for London as well as for the nation: the conquests and the vast possessions acquired by Edward had been lost more quickly than they were won. In 1372 the English fleet was destroyed off Rochelle: in 1373 Poitiers was lost and the English army destroyed: in 1374 Aquitaine was lost: our holding in France was reduced to certain strong places, as Bordeaux and Calais: the King was falling into dotage: the Black Prince was dying: not only the pride of the country was humiliated, but her wealth was impoverished and her trade diminished.

New ideas were rising up in all directions, precursors of the Reformation. Wyclyf wanted a return to simpler external forms and the lowering of the pride and wealth and power of the Church. Piers Plowman spoke for the inarticulate: Chaucer shows the kindly and good-humoured contempt of the well-to-do bourgeois for Friar and Monk: the commons demanded the dismissal of the Clergy from Civil Service: a few years later they petitioned the King (Henry IV.) to suppress all the monastic Houses. And the most powerful noble in the land, John of Gaunt, espoused the popular side and stood forth as the protector of Wyclyf and of John of Northampton.

Unfortunately John of Gaunt meddled with trade. Probably in ignorance of what he was doing he placed himself in the hands of a merchant named Richard Lyons in whom he seems to have had great confidence. Lyons was clearly the predecessor of many who have followed him in the endeavour to make fortune by short cuts; he got from John permission to ship his wool without taking it first to the Staple, thus avoiding the tax; he got himself made farmer of customs at Calais and levied higher duties than those imposed by Parliament; he bought up the King’s debts at a large reduction and made the Council pay him in full; he made corners, obtained and sold monopolies.

In 1376, the year before the old King’s death, the Good Parliament sat. Their speaker, Peter de la Mare, in the name of the Commons refused all supplies so long as the Duke of Lancaster, Lord Latimer, and Sir Richard Sturrie remained counsellors to the King, and so long as Alice Perrers remained the King’s concubine. The charge was allowed. Then the Parliament considered certain abuses in the City. First, they impeached Richard Lyons, “of divers deceits, Extortions, and other Misdemeanours, as well at the Time when he repaired to certain of the King’s Council, as when he was Farmer of the Subsidies and Customs; and especially for his obtaining Licences for the Exportation of large Faizons of Wool and staple Ware; for procuring new Impositions upon staple Ware; for devising the Change of Money; for making the King, for one Chevizance of twenty Marks, to pay thirty Pounds; for buying Debts of divers Men due by the King for small Values; for taking Bribes by way of Brokage for paying the King’s just Debts. All which, it seems, he was guilty of, by tampering with the Council.

To some Part of which Articles Richard answered, and to the rest submitted himself to the King’s mercy; Whereupon he was committed to Prison, and his Estate, both real and personal, confiscated, and for which Crimes he was also disfranchised.

John Peach of London was soon after impeached for procuring a Licence under the Great Seal, for the sole Privilege of selling sweet wine in London; it was said that by colour of this Grant, he took of every Vintner four shillings and fourpence for every tun he sold. The which he justified, as lawfully he might; yet nevertheless he was adjudged to prison, and to make Restitution to all Persons aggrieved. Whereupon the Grant was reversed, and the Citizens restored to their ancient Right of selling such Wine, under the Restriction of having the Price thereof always regulated by the Mayor.” (Maitland, vol. i. p. 134.)

The Parliament, however, came to an end. John of Gaunt returned to power; Richard Lyons and John Peach were let out of prison; the late Speaker, Peter de la Mare, was committed to Nottingham Castle; Alice Perrers went back to the King.

JOHN WYCLYF (d. 1384)
From MS. Harl. 4866.

It does not belong to this history to attempt an estimate of the character and the political career of John of Gaunt. Yet it may be mentioned that he was regarded with the deepest jealousy and was suspected of designs upon the Crown; for it was considered it might be easy for him to supplant the young prince Richard. Yet he was undoubtedly the greatest and most powerful noble in the land. Moreover, in matters of religion he took the side of Reform, especially as regards the wealth and power of the higher clergy. In this respect he undoubtedly had with him the general opinion of the City, both of the better sort—Whittington, among others, was reputed to lean in that direction—and of the craftsmen, among whom the Friars and their teaching had great influence. Unfortunately he offended the City beyond all power of forgiveness by proposing to abolish the Mayoralty and to encroach further upon their liberties. And then came the famous trial of Wyclyf in St. Paul’s Cathedral. Wyclyf was summoned to appear at St. Paul’s before the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of London to answer certain charges as to opinions.

He obeyed, but there came with him his protector, John of Gaunt, and the Earl Marshal, with, one doubts not, a sufficient following to protect their persons. The Cathedral was filled with people drawn together by the desire to see and to hear this fearless champion of Reform. It was with difficulty that the party could work their way through to the place of hearing, which was the Lady Chapel. The Earl Marshal exercised his authority, perhaps loudly, to keep the people back. The Bishop of London, indignant at the exercise of any authority but his own in his own Cathedral, declared that had he known how Lord Percy would act he would have forbidden him admission. The Duke of Lancaster with equal heat assured the Bishop that the Lord Marshal would maintain order, despite him. When they reached the Lady Chapel, the Earl Marshal demanded a seat for Wyclyf. The Bishop refused. Then angry words passed and recriminations; it was rumoured that John of Gaunt threatened to drag the Bishop out of the Church by the hair of his head. The quarrel grew to a tumult; the Court was dissolved; Wyclyf, who had said nothing, withdrew, and the Duke with his party left the Church and rode to the house of one John de Ypres.

There was rancour against the Duke of Lancaster for other reasons, apart from this insult to the Bishop. It was rumoured that he had the design of abolishing the Mayor and of appointing a Custos in his place; and that he held that the Marshal of England should have the right of arresting criminals in London as well as in other parts of the kingdom. The quarrel at St. Paul’s was only the last drop in the cup. That strange wildfire which seizes mobs, beginning one knows not where, and spreading one knows not how, flamed up in the London streets. The mob would have the Duke’s life. He, who was at the house of John de Ypres in the City, and at dinner, was startled by one of his knights who came to warn him. There was no time to be lost; he rose from table and hastening down to the nearest stairs took boat across the river and went to the Palace at Kennington. When the mob found that he was gone they came to his Palace of the Savoy, where they murdered a priest, and would have wrecked the palace but for the intervention of the Bishop of London.

The Mayor and Aldermen obtained an interview with the King and expressed their sorrow at what had happened: they said it was the act of a few lawless men, who should be found and punished, and therewith the Duke seemed satisfied. But the insults of the populace continued; they hung up his shield reversed to show that he was a traitor; they posted libels and insults upon him until he demanded the excommunication of the City. The Bishop of London refused; whereupon the Bishop of Bangor pronounced the excommunication. Had, then, one Bishop the right of excommunicating the people in the diocese of another Bishop? The Mayor, Adam Staple, was removed, and Nicolas Brembre was elected. Certainly it seems as if Adam Staple had shown his own weakness in not maintaining order. Lastly, the City tried to appease the Duke by offering a wax taper bearing his arms in St. Paul’s. Just then the old King died.

[CHAPTER VIII]
RICHARD II

RICHARD II. (1367-1399)
From a painting in Westminster Abbey. Artist unknown.

No one who considers the life and reign of Richard II. can fail to observe, and in some measure to understand, the very remarkable personal affection which he inspired in the people, especially the people of London, whose loyalty he rewarded so shamefully. His singular beauty, his kingliness, his charm of manner, the splendour and luxury of his court, his love of art and music, his personal bearing, all these things dazzled and fascinated the populace. Never was there a more gallant prince to look upon. That he was proud, almost as proud as Henry III., proud to a degree which is in these days absolutely unintelligible; that he was wasteful and prodigal; that he was led by unworthy favourites almost as much as his great-grandfather; that he was revengeful; that he always wanted money and cared nothing about charters, rights, and liberties, upon all of which he trampled without scruple in order to get money,—these things the people of London were going to find out to their cost. Meantime they loved the lovely boy, the son of the Black Prince. To begin with, the nobles called Richard the Londoners’ King. We shall see that the City endured blow after blow, before they finally abandoned him. Mostly, I think, the City regarded Richard with gratitude and affection for that deed of desperate daring when he faced the mob, himself a mere boy, and persuaded them to go home. Every citizen who remembered those few terrible days when the wildest mob ever seen in London streets held possession of the City, and when they remembered what the better sort had to endure, robbery, fire, and murder, looked on that act as the salvation of himself as well as of the City. The alienation of the City which followed was due solely to the King’s long-continued exactions and his arbitrary disregard of Charters.

The new reign—Richard was only eleven—began happily for London by a reconciliation of the City with the Duke of Lancaster. At the Coronation Banquet the Mayor and Citizens claimed their right to assist the chief butler, but were refused by Robert Belknap, Chief-Justice of the Common Pleas, who told them that they might come and wash up the pots and pans if they pleased. The citizens therefore set up an effigy of Belknap on one of the arches erected in Cheapside for the procession. The figure was made to vomit wine continuously. This is an early example of caricature in things political. Robert Belknap withdrew his opposition; the effigy was removed, and the Mayor and Aldermen played their accustomed part in the Coronation Banquet. It is noted by Sharpe (London and the Kingdom, p. 213) that the King’s Butler in ordinary could claim the post of City Coroner.

The City granted the Council an advance of £5000 on the security of the Customs. When Parliament met, it granted a tallage of two-tenths and two-fifteenths, and named two citizens, Walworth and Philpot, to act as treasurers. At this time, nearly the worst in our annals, the French were harrying the south coast almost unopposed; the Scottish army was on the borders; and a Scottish fleet was in the North Sea making descents upon the ports and seaboard towns. The Abbot of Battle drove off the French, and it was left to a private merchant of London to destroy the Scottish fleet.

This fleet was commanded by a man named Mercer who was called a pirate. Like his countrymen on the Border he probably called his own proceedings lawful acts of war. Sir John Philpot, hearing that this sea captain, or pirate, Mercer was plundering English towns and picking up English ships, fitted out at his own private expense a fleet of ships manned with a thousand men well armed, went on board himself as Admiral or Commander, sailed north, met Mercer’s fleet off Scarborough, valiantly attacked it, and killed him and took all his ships; then, with these and fifteen Spanish vessels, deeply laden, which had been captured by Mercer, he returned to London. The Council sent for him and asked him to explain his presumption in going to war on his own account. But the citizens showed their approval of his work by electing him Mayor in the following year.

The late King having died while the petition of the City for a confirmation of their liberties was impending, they renewed it on the accession of Richard. The House of Commons also prayed the King that the City might continue to enjoy all the Franchises and usages granted by his Progenitors. This was answered by a Charter of Confirmation as follows:—

“Whereas the said Citizens, by their Petition exhibited to us in Parliament, did set forth that although they, for a long time past, have used and enjoyed certain free Customs, until of late Years they have been unjustly molested; which Customs are as followeth, viz., That no Foreigner do buy or sell of another Foreigner any Merchandises within the Liberties of the said City, upon Pain of forfeiting the same. Nevertheless, being desirous, for the future, to take away all Controversies about the same, We do by these presents, with the Assent aforesaid, will and grant, and by these Presents, for us and our heirs, do confirm unto the said Citizens, and their Successors, that, for the future, no Foreigner sell to another Foreigner any Merchandises within the Liberties of the said City: nor that any Foreigner do buy of another Foreigner any Merchandise, upon pain of forfeiting the same; the Privileges of our Subjects of Aquitaine in all Things excepted, so that such buying and selling be made betwixt Merchant and Merchant.”

The City was still at this time torn by internal dissensions. The party headed by John of Northampton, representing the popular cause of the craft guilds, was always striving after more power and always meeting with the most determined resistance; it is also certain that a new and very important spirit had been introduced into the City, which was teaching new ideas concerning personal holiness, the riches of priest and monk, the true teaching of Christ as set forth in the Gospels, and spread abroad by Wyclyf’s preachers. The other side, headed by Philpot and Brembre, represented the old aristocratic party with the great guilds of distribution, import and export. The Duke of Lancaster, for reasons of his own, gave his support to John of Northampton and the popular party. In this he was joined by his brother Thomas of Woodstock, Earl of Buckingham, who three times accused Brembre before the Parliament: first of connivance in a riotous attack upon his house, and next of treason. The Earl showed his resentment still further by withdrawing from the City with all his following and all his friends. He must have had a great many friends, because the blow to trade was so sorely felt that the richer merchants subscribed and bribed him to come back again. The history of the City factions will be found in another place.

In 1379 a poll tax was imposed. Every man had to pay according to his rank and station. The Mayor of London was assessed as an Earl and paid £4. The Aldermen, assessed as barons, paid £2 each. The lowest workmen had to pay a groat—fourpence. The poll tax of the City amounted to no more than £700. It is estimated that there was a population of about 46,000. But the expenses of collection are not included. In the taxation of the whole population, man, woman, and child, there must have been a great number of clerks and collectors. Perhaps 25 per cent was spent in the work. That would give us a population of 56,000. Next year the poll tax was again imposed; but this time the smallest sum to be paid was three groats, and that by every man, woman, and child over the age of fifteen. What would this tax mean at the present day? It would mean that every working man would have to pay half-a-crown for himself, half-a-crown for his wife, and half-a-crown for every one in his house over fifteen years of age, say four half-crowns, or ten shillings in all. How long would a Government last which should impose such a tax? The tax produced in London alone no more than £1000. It was a fatal impost for the country, for it proved the cause of the rebellion, the most formidable rising of the peasantry which this country ever had to encounter, that named after Wat Tyler. The history of this insurrection belongs to the history of England rather than that of London, but the later and more dramatic part of it took place in the City. Perhaps I cannot do better than transcribe the short and graphic contemporary account given in Riley’s Memorials (p. 449):—

“Among the most wondrous and hitherto unheard-of prodigies that have ever happened in the City of London, that which took place there on the Feast of Corpus Christi, the 13th day of June, in the 4th year of the reign of King Richard the Second, seems deserving to be committed to writing, that it may be not unknown to those to come.

For on that day, while the King was holding his Council in the Tower of London, countless companies of the commoners and persons of the lowest grade from Kent and Essex suddenly approached the said City, the one body coming to the town of Southwark, and the other to the place called ‘Mileende,’ without Algate. By the aid also of perfidious commoners within the City, of their own condition, who rose in countless numbers there, they suddenly entered the City together, and, passing straight through it, went to the mansion of Sir John, Duke of Lancaster, called ‘Le Savoye,’ and completely levelled the same with the ground, and burned it. From thence they turned to the Church of the Hospital of St. John of Jerusalem, without Smethfeld, and burnt and levelled nearly all the houses there, the Church excepted.

On the next morning, all the men from Kent and Essex met at the said place called ‘Mileende,’ together with some of the perfidious persons of the City aforesaid; whose numbers in all were past reckoning. And there the King came to them from the Tower, accompanied by many knights and esquires, and citizens on horseback, the lady his mother following him also in a chariot. Where, at the prayer of the infuriated rout, our Lord the King granted that they might take those who were traitors against him, and slay them, wheresoever they might be found. And from thence the King rode to his Wardrobe, which is situated near to Castle Baynard; while the whole of the infuriated rout took its way towards the Tower of London; entering which by force, they dragged forth from it Sir Simon, Archbishop of Canterbury, Chancellor of our Lord the King, and Brother Robert Hales, Prior of the said Hospital of St. John of Jerusalem, the King’s Treasurer; and, together with them, Brother William Appletone, of the Order of Friars Minors, and John Leg, Serjeant-at-arms to the King, and also, one Richard Somenour, of the Parish of Stebenhuthe; all of whom they beheaded in the place called ‘Tourhille,’ without the said Tower; and then carrying their heads through the City upon lances, they set them up on London Bridge, fixing them there on stakes.

Upon the same day there was also no little slaughter within the City, as well of natives as of aliens. Richard Lions, citizen and vintner of the said City, and many others, were beheaded in Chepe. In the Vintry also, there was a very great massacre of Flemings, and in one heap there were lying about forty headless bodies of persons who had been dragged forth from the churches and their houses; and hardly was there a street in the City in which there were not bodies lying of those who had been slain. Some of the houses also in the said City were pulled down, and others in the suburbs destroyed, and some too, burnt.

Such tribulation as this, greater and more horrible than could be believed by those who had not seen it, lasted down to the hour of Vespers on the following day, which was Saturday, the 15th of June; on which day God sent remedy for the same, and His own gracious aid, by the hand of the most renowned man, Sir William Walworthe, the then Mayor; who in Smethefelde, in presence of our Lord the King and those standing by him, lords, knights, esquires, and citizens on horseback, on the one side, and the whole of this infuriated rout on the other, most manfully, by himself, rushed upon the captain of the said multitude, ‘Walter Tylere’ by name, and, as he was altercating with the King and the nobles, first wounded him in the neck with his sword, and then hurled him from his horse, mortally pierced in the breast; and further, by favour of the divine grace, so defended himself from those who had come with him, both on foot and horseback, that he departed from thence unhurt, and rode on with our Lord the King and his people, towards a field near to the spring that is called ‘Whittewellebeche’; in which place, while the whole of the infuriated multitude in warlike manner was making ready against our Lord the King and his people, refusing to treat of peace except on condition that they should first have the head of the said Mayor, the Mayor himself, who had gone into the City at the instance of our Lord the King, in the space of half an hour sent and led forth therefrom so great a force of citizen warriors in aid of his Lord the King, that the whole multitude of madmen was surrounded and hemmed in; and not one of them would have escaped, if our Lord the King had not commanded them to be gone.

KING RICHARD II. AND HIS COUNCIL GO DOWN THE THAMES IN A BARGE TO CONFER WITH THE REBELS
From Froissart’s Chronicles.

Therefore our Lord the King returned into the City of London with the greatest of glory and honour, and the whole of this profane multitude in confusion fled forthwith for concealment in their affright.

For this same deed our Lord the King, beneath his standard, in the said field with his own hands decorated with the order of knighthood the said Mayor, and Sir Nicholas Brembre, and Sir John Phelipot, who had already been Mayors of the said City; as also Sir Robert Launde.”

“Jack Straw” before his execution made a full confession. It has been doubted whether this confession is genuine, but it seems possible and even probable. They promised to have masses said for his soul (which assured him that it was purgatory to which he would be sent) and on this promise he declared that they had intended to seize the King, to carry him about in order to reassure the people, and in the end to kill him and all who were set in authority. They were going to spare the mendicant friars alone. And they were going to set up separate kingdoms all over the country.

The doctrines of Wyclyf’s preachers and “simple priests” certainly made this rebellion possible: they filled the minds of the rustics with new ideas of equality and right; they made them question authority; they made it possible for them to unite. As regards London, on inquiry after the rebellion, it was proved that two hundred persons had left the City in consequence, which does not seem to show that Lollardy was advanced by the rebels, or that there was any sympathy extended to them from the Lollards of the City. Now London at this time, Walsingham says, was full of Lollards—they were all Lollards. A little later than this even Whittington was accused of being male credulus. As regards the word Lollard its true meaning has been ascertained by Professor Skeat (Piers the Plowman, Early Eng. Text Soc., vol. iv. p. 86). There was a sect in Brabant before Wyclyf was born who were called Lollards.... “Sive Deum laudantes,” says one writer. “Mussitatores,” i.e. mumblers of prayers, says another. The name of Lollard, a term of reproach in Brabant, was borrowed from that country and applied to the followers of Wyclyf in order to render them unpopular. The word lollere or loller—one who lolls, an indolent person—had nothing to do with the word Lollard: nor with the Latin lolium, tares, which was also pressed into the service in order to make the new opinions unpopular.

After the murder of Archbishop Sudbury, William Courtenay became Archbishop of Canterbury: he was a man of high birth, a scholar, one of a temper which would not bear opposition, and one who held the strongest views as to authority and the power of the Church. He naturally saw in the late dangerous rising of the people a blow against authority, which he also ascribed, quite reasonably, to the teaching and the influence of Wyclyf. The doctrines of the rebel leaders were, however, an exaggeration and perversion of those taught by Wyclyf. And we must remember that Jack Straw looked forward to a time when the Franciscans should inherit the whole earth, an aspiration certainly not shared by Wyclyf. Twice had Wyclyf been summoned to appear before an ecclesiastical court. Courtenay called a Court and again summoned Wyclyf to appear. He was probably prevented by a stroke of paralysis, for he did not come. The Court was held in his absence in the Great Hall of the Black Friars. There were assembled (see Milman’s Latin Christianity, v. 509) eight Bishops, fourteen Doctors in Civil and Canon Law, six Bachelors of Divinity, four monks, fifteen Mendicant Friars, not one being a Franciscan, which is significant. Twenty-four articles were gathered out of the writings of Wyclyf, all to be condemned. In order to give these scenes great solemnity, a procession of clergy and laity walked barefoot to St. Paul’s to hear a sermon on the subject. (See Appendix I.).

Etch^d. By. J Harris

WAT TYLER FOR HIS INSOLENCE IS KILLED BY WALWORTH, AND KING RICHARD PUTS HIMSELF AT THE HEAD OF THE REBELS
From Froissart’s Chronicles.

There is the significant fact that in 1393 the Archbishop of York and the Bishop of London complained formally to the King of the Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs—Whittington being then one of the Sheriffs—as male creduli, upholders of Lollards, detractors of religious persons, detainers of tithes, and defrauders of the poor. Richard II.’ s “Good Queen Anne” was a Wyclyfite. She read the Gospels for herself in English, in Bohemian, and in Latin. Nobles and knights, among them Sir John Oldcastle, sometimes called Lord Cobham, and the Earl of Salisbury, were avowed Wyclyfites. Even among the monks themselves there were Lollards. Peter Patishull, an Augustinian monk, and actually one of the Pope’s chaplains, preached plain Wyclyfism at St. Christopher’s Church, close to the monastery of St. Augustine. And he affixed a written document to the doors of St. Paul’s, stating that “he had escaped from the companionship of the worst of men”—meaning his brethren of St. Augustine’s—“to the most perfect and holy life of the Lollards.” And again there is that most remarkable Petition of the London Lollards to Parliament. Remember that these words were written a hundred and fifty years before the Dissolution of the Religious Houses. They were the opinions of the common people put into articulate speech by such men as Peter Patishull. The document is, as Dean Milman says, “vehemently anti-papal, anti-Roman.”

“Since the Church of England, fatally following that of Rome, has been endowed with temporalities, Faith, Hope, and Charity have deserted her communion. Their Priesthood is no Priesthood: men in mortal sin cannot convey the Holy Ghost. The clergy profess celibacy but from their pampered living are unable to practise it. The pretended miracle of Transubstantiation leads to idolatry. Exorcism or Benedictions are vain, delusive, and diabolical. The realm cannot prosper so long as spiritual persons hold secular offices. One who unites these two is a hermaphrodite. All chantries of prayer for the dead should be suppressed: one hundred religious houses would be enough for the spiritual wants of the realm. Pilgrimages, the worshipping of the Cross or images, or reliques, is idolatry. Auricular confession, indulgences, are mischievous or a mockery. Capital punishments are to be abolished as contrary to the New Testament. Convents of females are defiled by licentiousness and the worst crimes. All trades which minister to pride or luxury, especially goldsmiths and sword cutlers, are unlawful.” (Latin Christianity.)

London was placarded with these manifestoes, half wise, half foolish. The Archbishop of York and the Bishop of London hastily summoned Richard from Ireland by information that an outbreak of Lollards was at hand. Probably fear and hatred exaggerated the danger. Then came the deposition of Richard, the accession of Henry and his declaration that he would support the Church. For a time the Lollards were quiet.

Returning to City history it was perhaps in the hope of increasing the popularity of the King that Brembre in 1383 issued a proclamation “concerning the liberties lately granted to the Citizens of London by the Lord King in his Parliament.”

The substance of the Charter is given in the Liber Albus. It was obtained partly by the good offices of the Queen, and partly by an advance, loan, or gift of 4000 marks.

KING RICHARD II. IN GREAT DANGER IN THE CITY OF LONDON
From Froissart’s Chronicles.

In the year 1392 the King, wanting money as usual, ordered every London citizen who possessed an estate worth £40 at least to take up the honour of knighthood for which heavy fees would have to be paid. The Sheriffs reported, however, that all tenements and rents in the City were “held of the King in capite as for burgage at a fee farm (ad feodi firmam); that the tenements were constantly in need of repair, and that it was impossible to make such a return as the King desired. The King had to withdraw the order. But he had a new quarrel with the City: he offered some jewels as security for a loan; the citizens said they were too poor to advance the money; therefore the King sent to a certain Lombard who promised to find the money; in order to get it, he himself borrowed of the citizens. Another version of the story is that the citizens learning that this Lombard, one of the Pope’s licensed usurers, had advanced the money, fell upon him and beat him grievously. If this story is true the reasons were probably the general ill feeling towards foreigners always existing in the City, and next, a special rage that this man should have become so rich. Richard heard of this; for the moment he said nothing, for he was in some respects a most self-restrained prince, though at all times most revengeful. Moreover, he had another quarrel with the City on account of the side they took in the late troubles. His chance came. It began with a loaf of bread snatched from a baker’s tray by a servant of the Bishop of Salisbury, named Roman, in Fleet Street. The baker, as the tale is told, naturally resented the robbery and tried to recover his loaf: in the scuffle he was wounded by the said Roman—probably they had both drawn their knives. A crowd collected; Roman’s fellow-servants rescued him, dragged him into the house and refused to give him up. The crowding people round the gates bawled that they would set fire to the place in order to get the man out. The Mayor and Sheriffs hurried to the spot and with some difficulty persuaded the people to go home, before violence was done. Here the affair, really a trifle, should have ended. But the Bishop of Salisbury, who is said to have desired an opportunity to do the City a bad turn, hurried to the King and asked if the Londoners were to be allowed with impunity to insult the Church and defy the State.” “Certainly not,” said Richard; “if necessary I will raze the City to the ground.” He ordered the Mayor, the Sheriffs, the Aldermen, and four-and-twenty principal men of the City to attend him to Nottingham there to answer for these grievous disorders.

It was very soon discovered that the King meant mischief. The citizens threw themselves upon his mercy as the shortest and perhaps the cheapest way out of the quarrel. He committed the Mayor to prison at Windsor, and the Sheriffs to Odysham and Wallingford. He then appointed a commission under the Great Seal—his uncles the Dukes of York and Gloucester being the Commissioners—to inquire into the misgovernment of the City. The prisoners had to pay a fine of 1000 marks for the first offence, whatever that was, of which they were convicted; 2000 marks for the second; and in the third the Liberties of the City were seized by the King, contrary to the Charters. The Mayor was degraded, the Sheriffs and Aldermen deposed and others appointed in their place, and a Custos was given to the City—Sir Edward Dalyngrigge. Richard then summoned the Aldermen to Windsor and imposed a fine of £100,000 upon the City. But it does not appear that he meant it to be paid, for in the following month he announced his intention of riding through the City. Then the citizens humbled themselves and made a very expensive effort to win back the King’s favour. They prepared a most magnificent reception for him. First, at St. George’s Church, Southwark, he was met by the Bishop of London, all the clergy, and five hundred choristers in surplices: at London Bridge he was presented with a splendid charger richly clad in cloth of gold, and to the Queen was given a stately white pad with rich furniture: the streets through which he passed were lined with the City Companies in order: the conduits ran wine: and the people shouted. At the Standard in Cheapside stood a boy in white raiment, representing an angel, who presented the King a crown of gold and the Queen with another: he also offered wine from a golden cup. Then the Mayor and the City Fathers rode with the King to Westminster. The next day, to complete this show of loyalty, they sent the King two silver gilt basins in each of which lay a thousand nobles of gold: and a picture of the Trinity said to have been valued at eight hundred pounds—one cannot believe there was then any picture in the world valued at so much. The King remitted the fine of £100,000 and restored the Charters.

The citizens on receiving back their Charters proceeded to institute certain reforms. They resolved that their Aldermen should be elected for life, and not year by year: a measure which diminished the factious quarrels over the elections. They also divided the Ward of Farringdon into two.

In the year 1394 the Queen Anne of Bohemia died. She had the reputation of being a good friend to the City. In the Latin poem of “Richard of Maidstone” (Camden Society, Deposition of Richard the Second), the Queen is represented as pleading with the King for the City:—

Ingreditur Regina suis comitata puellis,

Pronaque regales corruit ante pedes.

Erigitur, mandante viro, “Quid,” ait, “petis Anna,

Exprime, de votis expediere tuis.”

Supplicatio Reginae pro eisdem civibus.

“Dulcis,” ait, “mi Rex, mihi vir, mihi vis, mihi vita,

Dulcis amor, sine quo vivere fit mihi mors.

Regibus in cunctis similem quis possidet urbem?

Quae velut haec hodie magnificaret eum?

Et rogo constanter per eum quem fertis amorem

Ad me, condignum si quid amore gero,

Parcere dignemini plebibus, qui tanta dedere

Munera tam prompte nobis ad obsequia.

Et placeat veteri nunc urbem reddere juri,

Ac libertates restituisse suas.”

Two years later the King went through the form of marriage with the French princess Isabel who was brought over at the age of eight. The Mayor and Aldermen went out to meet the “little Queen” at Blackheath, and escorted her to Kennington Palace, and the next day from that Palace to the Tower, the roads and streets being crowded with an innumerable throng.

The extravagance of the King had now become an intolerable burden to the country, especially to London. He is said to have maintained 10,000 persons at his Court. There were 300 employed in the kitchen alone. There was never any prince who clad himself more gorgeously: one cloak he had made of gold and silver cloth studded with jewels which cost him £2000, or about £40,000 of our money. He seems to have been unable to understand the meaning of money or the relation between things he desired, and the taxable wealth of the country. His last method of extortion was to issue blank charters which the merchants were to sign and he was to fill up at his pleasure. This proved too much for the long-suffering City. John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, had recently died; so they sent for his son Henry, Duke of Lancaster.

HENRY OF LANCASTER BRINGS KING RICHARD BACK TO LONDON
From MS. in British Museum. Harl. 1319.

The rest is history; Henry came, was received with acclamations by the City, a company of 1200 Londoners, fully armed, was raised for him; he marched out with them and with others and seized the King whom he brought back to London with him. The rabble wanted to murder their former idol on the way. The Recorder with a great number of Knights and Esquires went out to meet Lancaster and his captive. In the name of the City this functionary begged Henry to behead the King. Perhaps, however, the story is not true. Holinshed simply speaks of the immense joy of the people, and says that “many evil-disposed persons, assembling themselves together in great numbers, intended to have met with him and to have taken him from such as had the conveying of him, that they might have slain him.”

HOW RICHARD II. RESIGNED THE CROWN TO THE DUKE OF LANCASTER
From Froissart’s Chronicles.

In the Parliament which was called on the arrival of the King at the Tower, thirty-three articles were drawn up showing that he was worthy of deposition. These articles were read at the Guildhall. The King, brought to Westminster, read publicly the renunciation of his Crown.

[CHAPTER IX]
HENRY IV

We have now to consider a rare event in the history of London—the accession of a sovereign who honestly maintained friendly relations with the City of London and respected its liberties. The note of conciliation was struck at the Coronation Banquet, at which the Mayor and Aldermen claimed and were assigned places of honour and their right of assisting the Chief Butler. Let us assist at one of the many mediæval banquets—we can do so by the help of Fabyan:—

HENRY IV (1367-1413)
From portrait in the possession of the Earl of Essex.

“Upon Monday, beyng the day of seynt Edwarde and the xiii day of October, the King was crowned at Westmynster of the archebysshop of Canterbury: after which solempnyte fynysshed, an honourable feest was holden within the great halle of Westmynster, where the kynge beynge set in the mydde see of the table the Archebysshop of Canterbury with iii other prelates were set at the same table upon the right hande of the kynge, and the archebysshop of Yorke with other iiii prelatys was sette upon that other hande of the kynge, and Henry the kynges eldest sone stoode upon the right hande with a poyntlesse swerde holdynge up right and the erle of Northumberlande, newely made constable, stode upon the lefte hande with a sharpe swerde holden up right, and by eyther of those swerdys stode ii other lordys holding ii cepters. And before the kynge stode all the dyner whyle the dukys of Amorarle, of Surrey, and of Exetyr, with other ii lordys. And the erle of Westmerlande, that newely made marshall, rode about the halle with many typped staves about hym, to see the roume of the halle kept, that offycers myght with ease serue the tables. Of the whyche tables the chief upon the ryght syde of the halle was begunne with the barons of the v portys, and at the table next the cupborde upon the lefte hande, sate the mayer and his bretherne the aldermen of London, which mayer that tyme beynge Drewe Barentyne, goldsmyth, for servyce there by hym that daye done, as other mayers at every kyngs and quenys coronacion use for to do, had there a standynge cuppe of gold. Then after the seconde course was servyd, Syr Thomas Dymmoke, knyght, benyng armed at all peacis, and syttynge upon a good stede, rode to the hygher parte of the halle and there before the kyng caused an herowde to make proclamacyon, that what man wolde saye that Kynge Henry was not rightfull enherytoure of the crowne of Englonde, and rightfully crownyd, he was there redy to wage with him batayll then, or sych tyme as it shuld please the kynge to assynge. Whiche proclamacion he causyd to be made after in iii sundry places of the halle in Englysshe and in Frenshe, with many more observauncies at his solempnytie exercysyd and done whiche were longe to reherse.”

The reign began with the very remarkable conspiracy formed by the Abbot of Westminster, and the Lords of Albemarle, Surrey, Exeter, and Salisbury and Gloucester. This rebellion was speedily put down with the help of the Londoners, and the chiefs of the rebellion were all beheaded. The Abbot of Westminster was struck by paralysis. It was probably in consequence of this rebellion, and the knowledge that there would be more risings as long as Richard lived, that he was murdered at Pontefract. But his death did not put a stop to conspiracies.

Early in the second year of Henry there were more executions for treason, viz. Sir Roger Claryngton, two of his servants, and eight Franciscan friars. London Bridge and the City Gates were decorated with the heads of the traitors. In the year 1404 one of the murderers of the late Duke of Gloucester at Calais was arrested and brought to London, where he was tried, found guilty and drawn all the way to Tyburn, to be hanged and quartered. The next year the Archbishop of York and Lord Mowbray rebelled, were defeated, and taken. As a new thing in the land the Archbishop was beheaded as well as the noble. The general horror aroused by this execution of a Prelate is shown by the story that grew up. “The Archbishop,” it was said, “in worship of Christ’s five wounds, entreated the executioner to strike him five times. At each stroke the King sitting in his lodging felt that stroke exactly as if some person were striking him. And shortly after he was stricken with leprosy, so that he recognised the hand of God. And soon after God shewyd many miracles for the sayde Bishop, which called the Kynge into the more repentance.”

In 1407 there was an ordeal by battle held at Smithfield between “one named the Welsh Clerk” and a knight, Sir Percyval Sowdan. The latter was accused by the clerk of treason. They fought for a “season,” but the clerk proved recreant: therefore they took off his armour; laid him on a hurdle and so to Tyburn, where he met the usual death. In the same year London Bridge received the heads of the Earl of Northumberland and Lord Bardolf. And after these examples the land for a brief season had rest from rebellions.

Returning to the relations of the City and the King. Henry granted a Charter the provisions of which are enumerated in the Liber Albus. They confirm the fullest liberties, and privileges are granted to the City. He also repealed the Act (27 Ed. III.) by which the Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs were liable to be tried by a foreign inquest taken from the counties of Kent, Sussex, Essex, Hertfordshire, Bucks, and Berks, together with the penalties and forfeitures belonging to the Act; he gave the London merchants the same liberty of packing their cloths as was enjoyed by the foreigners; and he won the favour of the commonalty by allowing all fishermen foreign or not, provided they belonged to countries at amity with the King, to sell fish in the London market. The first appearance of Free Trade, it will be seen, is intended to cheapen provisions. The City was able to show its readiness to support the King in the business of the conspiracy above mentioned. When Henry went to meet the rebels it was with an army of twenty thousand men, among whom was a strong contingent of six thousand Londoners. They were rewarded by a Charter giving them, with the custody of the City, all the Gates and Fortresses, the collection of the Tolls and Customs in Cheap, Billingsgate, and Smithfield, and also the Tronage or weighing of lead, wax, pepper, alum, madder, etc.

FUNERAL-PROCESSION OF RICHARD II.
From Froissart’s Chronicles.

Whether honestly or not, there were many who professed to believe that the late King Richard was still living, and one William Serle was active in spreading abroad this persuasion. Yet Henry had caused the face of the dead King to be exposed when the body was brought to London in order that there might be no possible doubt. Serle was arrested at length and brought to London, where he was executed at Tyburn. But still the delusion lingered on. Sixteen years later one Thomas Ward, called “Trumpyngtone,” personated the King, and two London citizens named Benedict Wolman and Thomas Bikering hatched a conspiracy to produce the false Richard. They were, however, arrested: one of them died in prison, the other was executed. Four years later, when Ward was dead, two more Londoners were arrested for keeping up the mischievous story. One of them was released, the other was kept in prison.

The Church and the clergy at that time had grave cause for anxiety. The spirit of discontent was abroad. It was shown by the late rebellion of the Essex and the Kentish men; it was shown by the falling off in bequests and donations and foundations of chantries, obits, and anniversaries; it was shown by the general hatred of the mendicant orders, and especially of the Franciscans, formerly so widely, and so deservedly loved; it was shown by the murmurings, deep and low, against the wealth of the Church, against the laziness and luxury of the Religious, against the general immorality imputed, rightly or wrongly, to the Ecclesiastics of all kinds—there were sixty clerks in Holy Orders caught in the act of adultery in the years 1400 to 1440: there were notoriously women who kept disorderly houses for priests and procured girls for them (see Riley’s Memorials). The spirit of revolt was shown by the action of the City when it prayed for the dissolution of St. Martin’s Sanctuary on the ground that the place was a mere receptacle of murderers, thieves, and bankrupts; it was shown most decisively and unmistakably in the remarkable prayer of Parliament that the King would take over into his own hands the whole of the Church lands. This petition demands larger notice. The following is Fabyan’s account:—

“In this yere (xi Henry IV.) the kyng helde his parliament at Westmynster, during the whiche the commons of this lande put up a bylle to the kyng, to take the temporall landes out from spiritual mene’s handes or possession. The effect of whiche bylle was, that the temporaltes, disordynately wasted by men of the churche, myghte suffice to find for the kyng xv erles, xv C knyghts, xi M and CC esquyers and C houses of almes, to the releef of poore people, more than at these dayes were within Englande. And over all thyse aforesayd charges the kynge myght put yerely in his coffers xx M pounds. Provyded that every erle should have of yerely rent iii M marke, every knyght an C marke & iiii ploughe lande, every esquyer xl marke by yere, with ii plughe land, and every house of almesse an C marke and oversyght of ii trewe seculers into every house. And also with provicion that every township shoulde kepe all poore people of theyr owne dwellers, whiche myght not labour for theyr lyvynge, with condycyon that if more fell in a towne than the towne myght maynteyn, that the said almesse houses to releve suche townshyppes. And for to bere thyse charges, they allegyd by theyr sayd bylle, that the temporalyties beyng in the possession of spirituell men, amounted to CCC and xxii M marke by yere, whereof they affermyd to be in the see of Caunterbury, with the abbeys of Cristes Churche, of Seynt Augustyns, Shrowsbury, Coggeshale, and Seynt Osiys xx M marke by yere.

In the see of Durham and other abbeys there, xx M marke: in the see of York & abbays there, xx M marke: in the see of Wynchester & abbays there, xx M marke: in the see of London with abbays and other houses there, xx M marke: in the see of Lincoln, with the abbays of Peterbourth, Ramsay, & other, xx M marke: in the see of Norwych, with the abbays of Bury and other, xx M marke: in the see of Hely, with the abbays of Hely, Spaldyng, & other, xx M marke: in the see of Bathe, with the abbay of Okynborne & other, xx M marke: in the see of Worceter, with the abbays of Euisham, Abyngdon, & other, xx M marke: in the see of Chester with precinct of the same, with the sees of Seynt Davyd of Salisbury & Exceter, with theyr precinctes, xx M marke: the abbays of Ravens, or Revans, of Founteyns, of Geruons, and dyvers other, to the number of five more, xx M marke: the abbays of Leyceter, Waltham, Gisbourne, Merton, Circetir, Osney, & other, to the number of vi more, xx M marke: the abbays of Dovers, Batell, Lewis, Coventre, Daventry, & Tourney, xx M marke: the abbays of Northampton, Thornton, Brystow, Kelyngworth, Wynchecombe, Hayles, Parchissor, Frediswyde, Notley, and Grymysby, xx M marke.

The which foresayd sumes amounte to the full of CCC M marke: and for the odde xxii M marke, they appointed Herdford, Rochester, Huntyngdon, Swyneshede, Crowlande, Malmesbury, Burton, Tewkisbury, Dunstable, Shirborn, Taunton, & Bylande.

And over this, they allegyd by the sayd byll, that over and above the sayd sume of CCC & xxii M marke dyvers houses of relygon in Englande, possessyd as many temporalties as might suffyce to fynde yerely xv M preestes & clerkes, every preest to be allowed for his stipende vii marke by yere.

To the which byll none answere was made, but that the kyng of this matyer wolde take delybracion & advycement, and with that answer it endyd.”

This estimate of the revenues of the various religious houses at the enormous sum of 322,000 marks, or £216,000 sterling, a sum which we must multiply by fifteen or twenty in order to get an approximation to our money, would thus be equivalent to a revenue of from three millions to four millions and a quarter. If we bear in mind the vast extent of the country then lying waste, untilled, and uncleared, merely forest land, we can understand the enormous proportion which the lands of the Church bore to the rest of the cultivated soil. The Religious Houses of London (not including Westminster) were set down at 20,000 marks or £13,333 a year, equivalent to £200,000 a year of our money.

In the next reign (2 Henry V.) the Commons returned to the subject, and sent up the same Bill. And this in the face of the recent severities towards the Lollards. Fabyan asserts that in fear lest the King should give to this Bill a “comfortable audyence,” certain Bishops and other head men of the Church reminded him of his claims upon France, and he says also that this Bill was the cause of the French wars which followed. It might have been one of the causes, perhaps; Henry V. was the last man to quarrel with the Church or to deprive the Church of her lands; at the same time, his title to the throne was accounted defective—there were many elements of trouble; there were nobles to conciliate; there were towns to please. He would not willingly create new enemies; a successful foreign war is always most popular; what the Black Prince achieved,—the same popularity, the same splendid reputation,—he might also achieve. The King therefore gently laid aside the Bill and presently embarked upon his war with France.

The clergy knew perfectly well that the main cause of the national discontent with the existing forms and institutions of religion was the teaching of the Wyclyfite.

“THE TRUE PORTRAITURE OF RICHARD WHITTINGTON, THRICE LORD MAYOR OF LONDON” (d. 1423)
From the engraving by R. Elstrack.

It was, indeed, to be expected that his preaching would be popular in all classes down to the very humblest. How should it be otherwise? He addressed all who could be moved by noble and generous inspirations. He preached against the enormous wealth of the clergy and the Religious Houses, wealth which choked up and destroyed the springs of piety; against the vices which too many of the clergy flaunted impudently in the face of the world, sloth, luxury, gluttony, intemperance, and incontinence: he preached in favour of personal righteousness, purity, and faith: it is significant that no new Monastic Houses were founded; that on the other hand, men like Whittington, Carpenter, Niel, and Sevenoke, in the City were founding schools, endowing libraries, rebuilding prisons, erecting almshouses, but never endowing monasteries. Whittington, for instance, gave a library to Grey Friars: he built and endowed an almshouse called God’s House: he founded the College of the Holy Spirit for five fellows, clerks, conducts, and servants: he restored the hospital of St. Bartholomew: he provided “bosses” or taps of fresh water in various parts of London: he rebuilt Newgate: he gave money for a library at the Guildhall. Of other civic benefactors in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries we must record the names of Sir John Philpot, who destroyed the pirates: of Sir William Sevenoke, who founded a grammar school in his native town: of Sir Robert Chichele, who gave money to provide a dinner and two-pence once a year to 2400 poor householders: of Sir John Wells, who brought water from Tyburn: of Sir William Estfried, who constructed a conduit from Highbury to Cripplegate: of John Carpenter, town clerk, who has given us the Liber Albus, and who founded a small charity which in time grew into the City of London School: of Sir John Niel, master of the hospital of St. Thomas Acon in Chepe, who proposed to found four new City schools: of William Byngham, who founded at Cambridge the small college called God’s House for twenty-four scholars, which afterwards developed into the illustrious and venerable College of Christ: of William Elsinge, who founded the Spital for a hundred poor men which afterwards became Sion College: of John Barnes, who left money to be lent to young men beginning in business: of Philip Malpas, who left the then large sum of £125 a year for the relief of poor prisoners, besides great benefactions to the poor, and a sum of money then yielding £25 a year for Preachers on the three Easter Holydays at St. Mary Spital. When we remember that a priest could then live on £6 a year—does that include his lodging?—the remuneration for three sermons seems generous indeed. Robert Large belongs to the latter half of the fifteenth century: he left a great sum of money in various bequests, including the very useful charity of a marriage dot for poor Maids. There were others, but these may suffice. They sufficiently prove the wealth of the donors, because a man thinks first of his own children or nephews: when he has provided for them, and not till then, he may consider how best to dispose of the residue. They prove also what is known from other sources of information that the endowment of monastic houses had practically ceased. Whittington, it is true, founded a college, but the chief duty of the Fellows was to sing masses daily and for ever for the repose of his own soul and that of his wife. I know nothing that shows the decay of the old belief in monks and friars more clearly than the list of fourteenth and fifteenth century benefactions and endowments. “Let us have libraries for scholars, and almshouses for the aged poor,” says Whittington, and endowed them. “Let us have schools,” says Sevenoke, Carpenter, and Byngham, and they endow them. But for the rich monks of the Holy Trinity, St. Mary of Grace, of St. Albans, of St. Peter’s—nothing.

Grove and Boulton.

THE PORCH OF THE CHURCH OF ST. ALPHAGE, LONDON WALL, FORMERLY THE CHAPEL OF THE PRIORY OF ELSINGE SPITAL

Henry could not afford to quarrel either with the Church or with the City. He passed the statute De comburendis haereticis and the Bishops began to light those baleful fires of Smithfield which, far more than wealth, far more than luxury, alienated the hearts of the people from the Church.

The first of London Martyrs was a priest of St. Osyth’s in the City. At the head of a narrow lane south of Cheapside called Size Lane—or St. Osyth’s Lane—is one of those tiny enclosures which in the City mark the site of a former church and churchyard, encroached upon by successive generations, surrounded by high walls, a melancholy reminder of the past. Here was the church of St. Osyth, and on this spot were preached the doctrines of Wyclyf by William Sautre. He was chosen as the first victim on account of his personal popularity. The greater the man, the more terrible would be the example. Already he had been tried and convicted of heresy. He was now tried and convicted as a relapsed heretic. He denied the doctrine of transubstantiation, which has always been the heretic’s stumbling-block. They burned him at Smithfield after a ceremony of degradation at St. Paul’s. Sharpe thinks that he was sentenced by special order of the King, because it took place before the passing of the Statute.

In the year 1410 was burnt a humble working man, a tailor—but the Chronicle and Stow call him a clerk—of Worcester, named John Bradby. The Prince of Wales, already a zealot in the cause of orthodoxy, was present. The poor wretch was placed in a cask surrounded with faggots. At the agonised shrieks of the wretched man, the Prince ordered him to be taken out, and offered him life and enough to live upon if he would confess the true faith. The man refused and was put back again into the cask. The story is thus related in the Chronicle:—

“This same yere there was a clerk that beleved nought on the sacrament of the auter, that is to seye Godes body, which was dampned and brought into Smythfield to be brent, and was bounde to a stake where he schulde be brent. And Henry, prynce of Walys, thanne the kynges eldest sone, consailed him for to as forsake his heresye, and holde the righte wey of holy chirche. And the prior of seynt Bertelmewes in Smythfield broughte the holy sacrament of Godes body, with xii torches lyght before, and in this wyse cam to this cursed heretyk: and it was asked hym how he beleved: and he ansuerde, that he belevyd well that it was halowed bred and nought Godes body: and thanne was the toune put over him, and fyre kindled thereinne: and whanne the wrecche felte the fyre he cried mercy: and annon the prynce comanded to take away the toune and to quench the fyre, the whiche was don anon at his comaundement: and thanne the prynce asked him if he would forsake his heresye and taken hym to the feith of holy chirche, whiche if he wold don, he schuld have hys lyf and good ynowe to lyven by: and the cursed schrewe wold nought, but contynued forth in his heresye: wherefore he was brent.”

Besides the weapon of the stake the King gave the clergy other help in suppressing heresy. He put a price upon the head of Sir John Oldcastle, Lord Cobham, who was considered the leader of the Lollards. His importance is indicated by the huge rewards offered for his capture. Information which would lead to his arrest would be rewarded by 500 marks: actual arrest would be rewarded with a thousand marks: the city or borough which should take him should be forever free of all taxes, tallages, tenths, fifteenths, and other assessments. Conventicles were forbidden; and, to prevent the performance of heretical services, no one was allowed to enter a church after nine in the evening or before five in the morning.

In the year 1407 there occurred a pestilence in the City which carried off, Stow says, thirty thousand in London alone. Nothing, however, is said about it in Holinshed, or in the Chronicle.

In 1409 there was a great and noble tournament held between the Hainaulters and the English.

In order to gratify the richer part of the commonalty by keeping out the country, those who flocked into the towns and wanted to learn trades and be apprenticed, Henry passed a law forbidding any to be apprenticed who had not land to the extent of 20s. a year. The act was repealed, however, in the next reign.

Everything points to a condition of great prosperity in the City before the outbreak of the Wars of the Roses. After every restoration of order the prosperity of London goes up by leaps and bounds. Many important buildings were erected: the Guildhall was removed to its present site from its former site in Aldermanbury “and of an olde and lytel cottage, made unto a fayre and goodly house”: Leadenhall Market was built: the walls of the City were repaired and strengthened: the City Ditch was drained out and cleaned: a new gate was built: the streets were lit at night, or ordered to be lit, which is not quite the same thing: and, as we have seen, the rich merchants gave large and costly gifts to the City.

The consideration and respect in which the City was held at this time is illustrated by the fact that when Parliament granted the King a shilling in the pound on all lands they placed the money in the hands of four Treasurers, three of whom were citizens of London.

In the year 1412 the Sheriffs were called upon to prepare a return of the amount of lands and Tenements held in the City—for purposes of taxation. The gross rental of the whole City was returned at £4220, or, in our money, about £60,000, which would not now represent Cheapside alone. But comparisons based on the assumed modern value of money at any period are at best unsatisfactory. How, for instance, can we reconcile the fact that Richard Whittington’s estate was worth no more than £25 a year with the great sums which he possessed and spent?

The death of King Henry is a thrice-told tale. Let Fabyan tell the story:—it belongs to the Annals of Westminster.

“In this yere, and xx days of the moneth of November, was a great counsayll holden at the Whyte Freres of London, by the whiche it was amonge other thynges concluded, that for the kynges great journaye that he entendyd to take, in vysytynge of the holy sepulcre of our Lord, certayne galeys of warre shuld be made & other pursueaunce concernynge the same journay. Whereupon all hasty and possyble spede was made: but after the feest of Christenmasse, whyle he was makynge his prayers at Seynt Edwardes shryne, to take there his leve, and so to spede hym upon his journaye, he became so syke, that such as were about him feryd that he wolde have dyed right there: wherefore they, for his comforte, bare hym into the abbottes place, & lodgyd him in a chamber, & there upon a paylet, layde him before the fyre, where he laye in great agony a certayne of tyme. At length, whan he was comyn to himselfe nat knowynge where he was, freyned of suche as then were aboute hym, what place that was: the which shewyd to him that it belongyd unto the abbot of Westmynster: and, for he felte himselfe so syke, he commaunded to aske if that chamber had any specyall name: whereunto it was answeryd, that it was named Jerusalem. Than sayd the kynge, louvynge be to the Fader of Heven, for noew I knowe I shall dye in this chamber, accordyng to the prophecye of me beforesayd, that I shulde dye in Jerusalem: and so after he made himself redy, and dyed shortly after.”

Other details given by Monstrelet bear the stamp of truth.

“The king,” he says, “in great pain and weakness lay before the fire, his crown on a cushion beside him. They thought him dead. Then the Prince took up the crown. But the king recovered, it was a fainting fit before the end. ‘Fair son,’ he asked, ‘why hast thou taken my crown?’ ‘Monseigneur,’ replied the Prince,‘here present are those who assured me that you were dead, and because I am your eldest son and to me will belong the crown when you have passed from life, I have taken it.’ Then said the king, with a sigh, ‘Fair son, how should you have my right to the crown when I have never had any, and that you know well?’ ‘Monseigneur,’ replied the Prince,‘just as you have held it and defended it by the sword, so will I defend it all my life.’ Then said the king,‘Do with it as it seemeth good to thee.’”

[CHAPTER X]
HENRY V

HENRY V. (1387-1422)
From the engraving by Greatbach of the picture at Windsor Castle.

On the night of his father’s funeral, the new King remained in the Abbey. He spent that night in confessing and praying at the cell of the anchorite which was outside the Chapel of Saint Catherine where are now the Little Cloisters. Stanley calls this the Conversion of Henry. That is because Stanley believed all that has been written about the youth of Henry—about his wild days, and his wild companions. But this Prince never existed except in the later popular imagination. That is to say, it has been clearly proved that he was so much occupied in Wales and elsewhere during his youth and early manhood that there was small opportunity for wild revels in London. It must be owned that there has been a persistent tradition of a stormy time in youth, but it seems as if the popular imagination had confused Henry with Edward II. Holinshed, for instance, quotes one:

Ille inter juvenes paulo lascivior ante, Defuncto genitore, gravis constansque repente Moribus ablegat corruptis regis ab aula Assuetos socios, et nugatoribus acrem Poenam (si quisquam sua tecta reviserit) addit, Atque ita mutatus facit omnia principe digna, Ingenio magno post consultoribus usus, etc. (Vol. iii.)

However this may be, Henry was always open to the influences of religion. He was crowned on 9th April, Passion Sunday. The coronation was marred by a heavy thunderstorm with torrents of rain, so that men’s hearts failed them for fear, thinking of what evil things this portent might mean. In the end it was recognised as foreshadowing trouble for the French.

His first act was the removal of King Richard’s body to Westminster with great pomp and state. He was probably induced to perform this pious act by the desire to dissociate himself and his father from any connection with the deposed King’s death. He then, being urged thereto by Archbishop Arundel, arrested Sir John Oldcastle, but first sent for him and caused him to explain his faith and teaching. This Sir John did, declaring the King, and not the Archbishop at all, to be his supreme judge, and offering to purge himself in battle or to bring a hundred knights or esquires for his purgation. The King, however, being advised by his Council, handed him over to be tried by the Spiritual Courts. The trial was held first in St. Paul’s Cathedral, and next in the Hall of the Dominicans. The verdict of the Archbishop was, of course, that Oldcastle was a heretic. He was sent back to the Tower, whence he managed to escape. And then occurred the mysterious plot, which one cannot avoid concluding was no more a plot than any fabricated by Titus Oates. What really happened was this. Sir Roger Acton, a knight “of great wit and possessions,” one John Browne, an esquire, and one John Beverley, Priest, and some others were reported to the King to be gathered together in armour near St. Giles Church. It was also said that they expected reinforcements in large numbers from the City: Holinshed says 50,000 were expected; Walsingham puts the number at 5000. The time of year was soon after Christmas. The King caused the City gates to be closed, then he repaired to Westminster and there getting together a sufficient force, rode out to St. Giles where he found the people assembling at midnight, and falling upon them, either killed or took them all prisoners. Possibly the leaders proposed a Lollard demonstration, armed, no doubt, because every one carried arms for every occasion; certainly, next day the arrest of suspected persons began: in a short time the City prisons were full: those who appeared to be the leaders were tried, some for heresy by the clergy, and some for high treason at the Guildhall. In the end twenty-nine were either hanged or burned, the latter, for the greater terror, gallows and all.

This so-called rising gave an occasion for a more severe statute against the Lollards by which the secular power, no longer contented with carrying out the sentences of the ecclesiastical courts, undertook the initiative against heretics. This points to some kind of panic. Perhaps the clergy had realised the full danger of the Lollard movement. Early in 1415 Henry sent an offer of pardon to Oldcastle if he would make submission. He refused, perhaps distrusting the promise, and, according to Walsingham, prepared for an insurrection as soon as the King should have gone to France. But the King went to France not troubling about Oldcastle: and there was no rising. Probably, therefore, Walsingham imagined or invented this motive. The fires of martyrdom were lit again that same day. Witness the letter written by the Mayor or Aldermen to the King, touching the trial and execution of John Cleydon. The man was a currier by trade: he had in his possession a number of heretical books, for which he was tried by Archbishop Chichele in St. Paul’s on 17th August 1415. The king being then in France, the Mayor himself gave evidence against the prisoner, who was sentenced to be burned with all his books. The case was deemed of sufficient importance to demand a special letter to the King, of which the following is the important part:—

“Forasmuch as the King of all might and the Lord of Heaven, who of late graciously taught your hands to fight, and has guided your feet to battle, has now, during your absence, placed in our hands certain persons who not only were enemies of Him and of your dignity, but also, in so far as they might be, were subverters of the whole of your realm: men commonly known as “Lollards” who for long time have laboured for the subversion of the whole Catholic Faith and of Holy Church, the lessening of public worship, and the destruction of your realm, as also the perpetration of very many other enormities horrible to hear: the same persons, in accordance with the requirements of law, we have unto the Reverend Commissaries of Reverend Father in Christ, and Lord, Richard, by Divine permission, the Lord Bishop of London, by indenture caused to be delivered. Whereupon one John Cleydone, by name, the arch parent of this heretical depravity, was by the most reverend Father in Christ, and Lord, Henry, by Divine permission, the Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, Primate of all your realm and other Bishops, his brethren, as well as very many Professors of Holy Scripture and Doctors of Laws, in accordance with the canonical sanctions, by sentence in this behalf lawfully pronounced, as being a person relapsed into heresy, which before had been by him abjured, left in the hands of the secular Court: for the execution of whose body, and the entire destruction of all such enemies, with all diligence, to the utmost of our power we shall be assisting.” (Riley’s Memorials, p. 617.)

We may perhaps see in this letter the desire of the City Fathers to clear themselves from any suspicion of Lollardy. The worthy citizens did not desire a reform in church doctrine so much as a return to simple measures and holy living.

SHIPS AT LA ROCHELLE, 1372
From Froissart’s Chronicles.

For two years Oldcastle led a wandering life with a few companions. He was once nearly taken at St. Albans, where the Abbot’s servants heard of him and went out to arrest him. He got away, but some of his servants were caught: and they found books of devotion upon them in which the painted heads of the Saints had been scraped off: the names of the Virgin and of the saints had been blotted: and divers writings had been made up and down the page in derogation of honour paid to the Virgin and to the Saints. These books were displayed at Paul’s Cross to illustrate the extreme wickedness of Lollardy. At length Sir John Oldcastle was taken by Sir Edward Charlton, Lord of Powis. So much importance was attached to the capture that Charlton received a reward of 1000 marks. There does not appear to have been the slightest grounds for representing this great and noble man, a hundred and fifty years in advance of his age, as a traitor, a conspirator, or in any sense hostile to the King. He was free for two years to work his conspiracies and he refrained. But he was always active in disseminating Lollard teaching. In 1417 he was hung on a gallows by chains, and was, it is said, slowly burned to death, at St. Giles, close to the south end of the present Tottenham Court Road. Like so many martyrs, like Latimer, like Cranmer, like Ridley, he was sustained through the fiery torment by the steadfast faith which burned in his soul more fiercely than the crackling flame without. Before he suffered he prayed forgiveness for his enemies: he exhorted the people to obey the Scripture in all things: he refused the ministrations of a priest. “To God only, now as ever present, he would confess.”

It seems afterwards, amid the wars and strifes and bloodshed of the century, as if Lollardy was dead. It was not. The memory of Sir John survived; the teaching of the simple life, the pure life, the chaste life, remained in men’s hearts and bore fruit when they found time and opportunity to compare once more the Church of the present with the Church of the past.

Henry, for the purpose of strengthening his doubtful seat on the throne by the prestige of victories, resolved upon continuing the foreign policy of Edward III. On 10th March 1415 he informed the Mayor of his intention. A great meeting, with the King’s brothers and some of the Bishops, was held at the Guildhall to consider the question of finance. This meeting is important because the precedence of the Mayor in the City was there decided. He was considered as the King’s representative in the City, and therefore took the highest place with the Bishops on his right and the King’s brothers on his left. The King pledged his jewels and the security of his customs for the sum of 20,000 marks. Later on, the City advanced the sum of 5000 marks and a further sum of £2000 on the security of a valuable sword set in gold and precious stones.

The conspiracy of the Earl of Cambridge and Lord Scrope, discovered on the eve of sailing from Southampton, proves that the crown of the Lancastrian was still insecure. But Henry was going to show himself in the light of a great captain against whom conspiracies were useless and futile.

MARRIAGE OF HENRY V. AND KATHERINE OF FRANCE
From MS. in British Museum. Roy. 20 E vi.

There was no doubt as to the loyalty of the City under Harry of Monmouth. When the forces in France were suffering from scarcity of victuals, the citizens sent off to Rouen thirty butts of sweet wine, 1000 pipes of ale and beer, and 25,000 cups for the men’s use. And they scoured the City for any vagrant soldiers, whom they shipped off as they were pressed, to join the army. The news of Agincourt (Oct. 25, 1415) reached London on 28th October when the new Lord Mayor, Nicholas Wotton, was sworn into office at the Guildhall. He conveyed the news to the Lord High Chancellor, and they celebrated the event with a Te Deum at St. Paul’s. On the following day the Mayor, accompanied by the Aldermen, the companies, and as many of the nobility as had houses in the City, walked in procession to Westminster, where they made oblations at the shrine of St. Edward. They were careful to record that this walking on foot was not to be taken as a precedent or to supplant their riding. When the King himself returned he was received with the greatest rejoicings, rejoicings unlike those which greeted many of his predecessors, for they were real. A victorious Prince, young, gallant, successful, wins all hearts. He brought to England with him all his prisoners, a goodly company. He was met on Blackheath by the Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs dressed in scarlet gowns, with three hundred of the principal citizens all richly accoutred. At St. Thomas Watering the London clergy met him with their most gorgeous robes; the City was decorated with carpets and tapestry, and there were pageants with children representing angels and singing praises and psalms, while the conduits ran wine. This is William Gregory’s account of the Riding:—

“And the xxiij day of November the kyng came unto London whythe alle hys prisoners above sayd. And there he was resseyvyd worthily and royally by the mayre with all the aldermen whythe hym there. And whythe a royalle processyon he was broughte home: and there was made stondyng upon the brydge Syn George royally armyd, and at the Crosse in Cheppe was made a castelle and there with was moche solemnyte of angelys and virgenys syngyng. And soo he roode untylle that he came to Powbys and there mette whithe hym xvi byschoppys and abbatys whithe processyon and seizyd him and broughte hym uppe into thw quere whythe devoute songe, and there he offered and the Fraunsythe lordys alle so. And thaunce he roode forthe unto Westmynster: and the mayre and hys brethren broughte hym there.”

The day after this triumph the Mayor and Aldermen presented the King with the sum of £1000 in gold and deposited it in two golden basins worth half as much.

There was another grand procession of 14th June 1420, when the news arrived of the Treaty of Troyes which made Henry heir to the French crown. In February 1421 the King with his newly-married Queen, Katherine, arrived at London and lay at the Tower. Another grand procession escorted them to Westminster where Katherine was crowned. On this occasion, as on the return from Agincourt, the City assumed every appearance of joy.

As regards internal affairs during this reign, the Mayor in 1415 ordered the citizens to hang out lanthorns for the lighting of the City by night. Leadenhall Market was built at the expense of Sir Simon Eyre, sometime Mayor. He designed it as a public granary in time of scarcity, but it never appears to have been used as such. On one side was a chapel with a college endowed as a Fraternity of the Trinity, consisting of sixty priests, by whom mass was sung on market day. In the Hall was kept the common Beam for weighing wool, and a public market was held. The Hall was afterwards used as an Armoury for the City, and lastly turned into a Meat Market.

And then, alas! this gallant Prince died, being then no more than thirty-two years of age. This lamentable event, which prepared the way for all the miseries of foreign humiliation and civil war, happened at Bois de Vincennes on the 31st August 1422. The body of the King was brought over from France, and received a funeral worthy of his kingly virtues. In an open chariot it lay coffined; and above the coffin was the effigy of the King in royal robes, a crown upon his head, a sceptre in one hand and the orb in the other. The figure lay upon a rich cloth and the canopy was borne by nobles. The obsequies were performed at St. Paul’s, and the body was then taken to Westminster.

And so ended prematurely the life of the best-beloved King that ever England saw, and they were no feigned or perfunctory tears that flowed abundantly at his obsequies. Let me transcribe the words of John Hardyng in his Chronicle:—

“O good Lord God that art omnipotent,

Why streched not thy power and thy might

To kepe this prince, that sette was and consent

With th’ emperour, to conquere cirry right,

And with Christen inhabite, it had hight

Why favoured so thyne high omnipotence

Miscreaunce more then his benevolence.

Above all thyng he keped the lawe and peace

Through all England, that none insurrection

Ne no riotes were then withouten lese,

Nor neighbour werre in faute of correccion:

But peasebly under his proteccion,

Compleyntes all, of wronges in generall,

Refourmed were well under his yerd egall.

When he in Fraunce was dayly conversant

His shadow so obumbred all England,

That peace and lawe kepte continuant

In his absence throughout all this land,

And else, as I conceyve and understand,

His power had been lite to conquere Fraunce

Nor other realmes that well were lesse perchaunce.

The peace at home and lawe so well conserved,

Were croppe and rote of all his hie conquest

Through whiche the love of God he well deserved

And of his people by North, South, Est, and West,

Who might have slain that prince or downe him cast

That stode so sure in rightfull governaunce

For common weale, to God his hie pleasaunce.”

[CHAPTER XI]
HENRY VI

HENRY VI. AS AN INFANT
From Strutt’s Manners and Customs.

The disastrous and miserable reign of Henry of Windsor began when the King, an infant less than a year old, was carried through London in the lap of his mother. He was placed under the guardianship of the late King’s brothers, the Duke of Bedford and the Duke of Gloucester. The former being the elder claimed to be Protector of the Realm, which was granted him, his Protectorate to begin on his return from France. The glories and victories of the late reign, the personal popularity of Henry V., and his constant support of the Church seemed to have removed for the time all fears of further risings against the Lancastrian House. But the materials for rebellion always remain where there is a rightful heir standing apart, and not contented with the simple rank of noble. The reign, indeed, began with the conviction of Sir John Mortimer for treasonable designs in favour of the Earl of March. In addition to this danger, the great nobles were always ready to take offence and to join any insurrection that might offer; while, as regards the City, though it was true and loyal to all appearance, its loyalty, as had been already proved on many occasions, would not stand the strain of bad trade, increased taxation, or invasion of the City liberties. Above all, the young King had a very long period of tutelage before him, and the country had to expect during that period the uncertainties and the dangers of a Protectorate. The first sign of approaching disturbance was the quarrel between the Duke of Gloucester and Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester. It is a very singular story as told by Gregory. The Bishop was going to seize the City by armed force. Why? with what object? Perhaps he proposed to depose the Duke of Gloucester, but then he would have had to reckon with the Duke of Bedford.

“And that same yere that the mayre rode to Westmynster on the same daye for to take hys othe, that ys, was the xxix daye of Septembyr, whenne that he come home to hys mete with hys aldyrmen and with hys goode comyners, or that they hadde fully, etc., the Duke of Glouceter sende for the mayre and hys aldermen that they shulde come speke with hym: and whenne they come he cargyd the mayre that he shuld kepe welle the cytte that nyght for my Lorde of Glouceter and the Byschoppe of Wynchester were not goode frendys as in that tyme. And on the morowe certayne men kepte the gatys of the brygge of London by the commaundement of the Lorde of Glouceter and of the mayre. And by-twyne ix and x of the belle ther come certayne men of the Byschoppys of Wynchester and drewe the chaynys of the stulpys at the brygge ende in Southework ys syde, the whiche were both knyghtys and squyers, with a great mayny of archerys, and they enbaytaylyd them, and made defens of wyndowys and pypys as hyt hadde bene in the londe of warre, as thowe they wolde have fought agayne the kyngys pepylle and brekyng of the pes. And thenne the pepylle of the cytte hyrde thereof, and they in haste schytte in ther shoppys and come downe to the gatys of the brygge in kepyng of the cytte ande savacyon of the cytte a-gayns the kyngys enmys, for alle the shoppys in London were schytte in one howr. And thenne come my Lorde of Cauntyrbury ande the Prynce of Portynggale, and tretyd by twyne my Lorde of Glouceter and the Byschoppe of Wynchester for they rode viij tymes by twyne the duke and the byschoppe that day. And thonkyd be God, thoroughe goode governaunce of the mayre and hys aldyrmen, alle the pepylle was sessyde and wentte home ayenne every mann, and none harme done thorough ealle the cytte, thonkyd be God.” (W. Gregory’s “Chronicle” in Collections of a London Citizen.)

The same story is told more briefly in the Chronicle of London (Nicolas). The Duke of Bedford came over and acted as arbitrator. The citizens made him a present of a thousand marks in gold with two golden basins; but he received them coldly, one cannot tell why. However, he patched up a peace between the Bishop and his brother and took the Bishop to France with him, perhaps to get him out of the way. When, five years later, Beaufort was made Cardinal and Papal Legate he returned, and was honourably received by the citizens, “and he was resiayvd there worthily and ryally of the mayre and alle hys brethreyn.”

The following letters between the King, i.e. the Protector in the King’s name, and the Mayor are quoted by Maitland to show certain claims and alleged immunities made by the Corporation at this time.

“Henry, by the Grace of God, King of England and France, and Lord of Ireland, to the Mayor and aldermen of the City of London, greeting. Willing for certain Causes, to be certified upon the Tenors of divers Liberties and Customs of the aforesaid City, and concerning the Records and Memoranda of Servants and Natives coming to the aforesaid City, and tarrying there for a Year and a Day, without complaint of their Lords or Masters before you had, and inrolled in our Court of our Chamber of Guildhall of the aforesaid City as is said: We command you the Mayor, distinctly and openly to send the Tenor of the Liberties, Customs, Records, and Memoranda beforesaid, to us in our Chancery, under your Seal and this our Brief. Witness myself at Westminster the twentieth of January, in the seventh year of our Reign.”

To which the Mayor and Aldermen returned the following answer:—

“Be it remembered that in the Time of Holy King Edward, heretofore King of England, and before from all time no Memory of Man, then was extant such dignity, liberty, and Royal Custom, among others was had, used, and approved in the City of London, which is, and from all time hath been called The free Chamber of the King of England, as from ancient Time it was used, and had in the great city of Troy: to wit, That every Servant whosoever he were, that came to the City of London, and tarried in it for a Year and a Day, without Reclamation of his Lord there, afterwards he may, ought, and hath accustomed through his whole Life so freely and securely to tarry there, as it were in the House or Chamber of the King: And thence it is, that the same holy King Edward, amongst other things, by his Laws remaining of Record in the Treasury of Guyhald of the said City, and reciting the City itself to be the head of his Kingdom, and that it was founded like and after the manner of old Troy; and that it containeth in it the Laws, Liberties, Dignities, and royal Customs of great Troy: He appointed and ordained, that the said city of London may have and keep everywhere, by one Inviolability always, all her old Usages and Customs, wheresoever the King himself shall be, whether in an Expedition or otherwise.

And afterwards King William the Conqueror, King of England, by his charter, which remaineth of the Record in the same Treasury, granted to the Men of London, that they be worthy of all that both Law and Right, as they were in the days of the aforesaid Edward. And moreover, the said William the King, among other laws at the said City made, with the consent of noble and wise men of the whole Kingdom, and remaining in the said Treasury, likewise remaining of record, appointed and ordained, that if Servants remain, without Complaint, by a Year and a Day in a Burgh compassed with a Wall, or in Castles, or in the cities of the said King; whence the said City of London, to that Time, and from all Time before, was one, and the more principal of the whole Kingdom, as is said before; from that Day let them become Freemen, and let them be for ever free and quit from the Yoke of their Servitude. And the Record continues, viz., It is to be noted, that the Laws, Recitements, and Statutes of holy King Edward, of which Mention is made above, are contained in Folio 34 of this Book, in the Title De Heretochiis and Libertatibus, London; and in Folio 113 of the Book of Customs of the said City: and in Folio 36 of the Book called Recordatorium London, etc. It is also had in folio 162 of the Red Book of the Exchequer, called the True Charter; by which the foresaid lord the Conqueror hath confirmed to the citizens of London all Rights and Laws which they had in the time of holy King Edward, together with certain other charters, by which the said Lord, immediately after the Conquest, gave the whole Hyde and land of the City of London, whereof he had then been possessed in his Demesne, to the Men of the said City, patent and remanent under the Seal of the said King, in the Custody of the Chamberlain, in the Treasury of the said City; which Charters are contained and incorporated in the Great Charter of the Liberties and Customs of the City of London, and are confirmed by the Lord the King (Henry the Sixth) and his progenitors. But the Tenors of the said Charters are patent in the Latin Tongue, in Folio 238 of the Book of Ordinations of the said City.” (Maitland, vol. i. p. 188.)

The fifteenth century is full of the disasters and violent deaths of great nobles. The history of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, brother to Henry V., belongs especially to London. On the death of his brother, being then about twenty-seven years of age, he was, as we have seen, named joint-guardian of the infant King, and was to rule England by consent of Parliament, until his elder brother returned from France. The wars and the threatening aspect of things kept the Duke of Bedford abroad except for occasional visits to England until his death. Gloucester is spoken of as a man of profligate habits and great ambition. These general adjectives are convenient for the historian; they sum up a man, and present him in bold outline. Now in nature there is no outline, only gradual shadings. He was, it is said, ambitious. The Court of the young, weak-minded King was full of intrigue and plottings and conspiracies for power and place. The courtiers were all ambitious. What any one wanted, if not power, it is not possible to arrive at with certainty. They all wanted power and place, nor is it easy to see that any one of the ambitious lords was in that respect worse than any other. And as regards Gloucester it must be remembered that if Henry died without heirs he stood next to Bedford in the succession, and that Bedford had no children. As for Gloucester’s morals, we have seen that London at this time, thanks to the Lollard movement, was exacting in the point of morals: yet Gloucester remained popular with the citizens: they made him presents—500 marks on one occasion and 1000 on another—though the latter gift was for the Duchess Jacqueline. It is said that Eleanor Cobham was his mistress before he married her. Perhaps he had the sense not to parade the liaison, in which case the good citizens would not be scandalised. But the morals of kings and princes have never been very jealously watched by their subjects. Charles II. and George IV. are by no means alone in immorality: and the world has forgiven or forgotten most of the others. In other words, there is nothing to show that Gloucester was specially blameworthy on the score of morals. It is, however, quite certain that he was a splendid and lordly Prince, a patron and a lover of the fine arts.

THE DUKE OF BEDFORD

The stormy career of Jacqueline de Brabant, his first wife, belongs to the history of her time rather than that of London. Yet because her misfortunes first awakened the voice of the women of London her life may be briefly noted in this place. She was the only daughter and the heiress of William, Count of Hainault and of Margaret of Burgundy his wife. No one, to outward seeming, could be more strongly protected or in safer hands than this girl. She was married at five years of age to John, second son of Charles VI. of France, the young prince being like herself, a child. On the death of the Dauphin John took the title of the Dauphin du Viennois. He was killed by poison immediately upon arriving in France. Jacqueline was thus a widow at sixteen. They married her immediately to John, Duke of Brabant, her cousin german, by dispensation of the Pope. The Duke was an imbecile, with whom his wife refused to continue. In 1420 she left him and came to England. Here Duke Humphrey proposed to consider the marriage null and void. On the death of Henry V. a bull was obtained to that effect from the anti-Pope Benedict XIII., and she and Gloucester were married. Gloucester then demanded of the Duke of Brabant the restitution of his wife’s estates. On his refusal he entered the country with 5000 English troops prepared to encounter the allied forces of Brabant and Burgundy. But the latter withdrawing, Gloucester returned to England leaving Jacqueline in Mons. She was taken prisoner, conducted to Holland, escaped in the disguise of a soldier, and, then being reduced to great straits and receiving no succour from Gloucester, who could probably get none, she concluded peace with the Duke of Burgundy, her cousin. The Duke of Brabant was now dead. In the treaty of peace she acknowledged that she was not the lawful wife of Gloucester; she named the Duke of Burgundy her heir; and she engaged not to marry again without the Duke’s permission.

It was before this treaty, which separated Jacqueline entirely from English sympathies, that the women of London, for the first time in history, made their appearance in public. Filled with sympathy for the misfortunes of this unhappy heiress, thus driven out of her estates, a prisoner, a wanderer, deserted by her cousin and her husband, they presented themselves before Parliament in the year 1427 and laid before the Commons at Westminster assembled, a petition or letter complaining of the Duke’s behaviour towards his wife. In the following year the citizens themselves begged the consideration of Parliament for the abandonment of the Duchess. This would lead us to believe that in the distracted condition of the State the Duke of Gloucester simply could not get succour for his wife. It would be interesting to know how the women were got to act together, whether by meeting at Paul’s Cross and by female oratory, or, which is much more likely, by house-to-house visitation. Nothing, however, came of their interference.

Jacqueline very soon grew tired of her engagement not to marry without her cousin’s leave. She married a knight of Flanders named François de Borcelen, whom the Duke of Burgundy promptly imprisoned. Jacqueline bought his liberty by the surrender of all her estates, receiving only out of all her princely possessions a modest annuity. Meantime, the Duke of Gloucester was already married to Eleanor, daughter of Lord Cobham.

In the year 1441 Gloucester’s second marriage was brought to a miserable end. The Duchess was accused, it is said by the wicked wiles of Cardinal Beaufort, but it is quite possible that his wiles were not in this case exercised at all. Eleanor may have been, probably was, ambitious for her husband and for herself. Henry was by this time nineteen years of age and unmarried. The physical weakness of the lad was certainly known to his uncles and the Court circle. Perhaps he would never be able to marry. Perhaps he would die. In the latter event, which was by no means improbable, the Duke of Gloucester would succeed, the Duke of Bedford now being dead, and then Eleanor would be Queen. Of magic and witchcraft there was at this time plenty, as there is still, and always has been; that is to say, plenty to be had for those who could afford to pay for it. The Duchess learned where there was a wise woman, she paid her money, and she inquired and learned what she wanted, viz. how to get rid of a person whose end was ardently desired. Nothing was easier; one had only to make with fitting incantations and magical formulæ, an image in wax of the person whose death was desired, and then, simply by sticking pins into the image, or by holding it before the fire, to make it, and at the same time her enemy, waste away. There is nothing at all incredible in supposing that a woman in the fifteenth century, strongly tempted by ambition, conscious that her husband was watching every day with expectation the health of the feeble king, would follow such a course. The persons charged with being the Duchess’s accomplices were four—namely, Master Thomas Southwell, a Canon of St. Stephen’s, Westminster; Master John Hume, Chaplain of the Duchess; Master Roger Bolingbroke—his name is also written Bulbroke—and Wyche, “a man,” says Fabyan, “expert in negromancy”; and a woman named Margery Jourdemayne, surnamed the witch of Eye in Suffolk, obviously a wise woman of the time with some reputation for sorcery. The accused persons seem to have been brought before the Lords in Council, who also interrogated the Duchess. They are all said to have confessed. The four confederates were tried at the Guildhall. Was the offence, then, committed in the City of London? The three men were sentenced to be hanged, drawn, and quartered; the witch was sentenced to be burned. As regards the latter, poor old Margery, the sentence was duly carried out, for she was “brent” in Smithfield. The Canon of St. Stephen’s died in his cell the day before that appointed for his execution; John Hume, the chaplain, was pardoned and went about his business; the unfortunate “negromancer” alone, Roger Bolingbroke, paid the penalty of his crime. First he stood in pillory at Paul’s Cross, with all his instruments, the wizard’s tools and weapons hanging around him in the presence of the shuddering crowd; next he was drawn to Tyburn and there hanged, with the usual accompaniments. He protested his innocence to the last.

As for the Duchess she first took sanctuary at Westminster; then, for some reason unknown, she left sanctuary and fled to the “Castle” of Lesnes. Is this Lesnes Abbey near Woolwich? There she was arrested and examined by the Lords in Council. It is said that she confessed. The complete silence and inactivity of her husband, who does not appear to have moved a step in the matter, seems to show that he was convinced of her guilt, and that he was anxious not to appear involved in an odious crime which, if Henry were to die, would imperil his succession, or at least, blacken his name, and strengthen his enemies. Eleanor was ordered by the Council to do public penance. And here follows one of the most picturesque incidents in the whole history of Mediæval London. Accompanied by her women, the Duchess was taken on Monday, 13th November, from Westminster (from which we gather that she was lodged in the Palace), in a barge to the Temple Stairs. There her maids took off her shoes and stockings and her rich gown, wrapped her in a white sheet, took off her hood, tied a white handkerchief over her head, and placed in her hand a wax taper weighing two pounds. In this dismal guise, while trumpets went before, and men-at-arms marched before her and behind her,—one hopes she was allowed the attendance of her maids,—this great lady, the wife of the Regent or Protector, the greatest lady in the land, stepped barefooted along the rough road, while all the streets were crowded and every window was filled with curious eyes, and the people each asked the other if this pale and shrinking woman could be the wife of Duke Humphrey, the Duke of Gloucester, brother to King Henry V., Protector of the Realm? Pity she received none: who could pity one who had practised arts of devilish magic? And were not the ashes of her confederate, the witch of Eye, still smoking on the soil of Smithfield? At St. Paul’s she offered her taper at the high altar. Two days afterwards, she was again taken by barge from Westminster to the Swan Stairs, where she landed, and in the same guise as before, walked “through Bridge Streete, Groschirche Street, to the Ledenhalle and so to Crichurche.” And on Friday in the same way she landed at Queenhithe and so into Chepe and to St. Michael’s, Cornhill. It is a curious illustration of the time and of the respect due to rank that though this public and infamous penance was inflicted upon the lady, the Mayor, the Sheriffs, and the Crafts of London met her every day at her landing. It is not stated whether they accompanied her in her dolorous walk afoot. The Duchess was taken to Chester, where she lived in retirement for the rest of her life.

Six years later, the King being now in the hands of William de la Pole, Earl of Suffolk, the Duke of Gloucester met his end. He was arrested at St. Edmundsbury on a charge of treason, and on the morrow was found dead in his bed. People were frequently found dead in their beds in these circumstances. To give some colour to the charge of treason five of his people were accused of complicity, and condemned to the usual mode of death. They were drawn to Tyburn, hanged for a few moments, cut down alive, stripped naked and “marked with a knife in order to be quartered.” That is to say, slight incisions were made all about the body in order to guide the executioner’s hand. They were then, having experienced nearly all the agonies of death by violence and torture, unexpectedly pardoned by the Earl of Suffolk. Did the conductor of the proceedings keep the pardon in his pocket and produce it just at the critical moment when the knife had drawn those diagrams in lines of blood round the victims’ naked bodies? or did the Earl send off the pardon by special messenger who arrived just in time to save them? If so, then the situation is one of the most dramatic in all the annals of Tyburn. It is said that their clothes were kept by the hangman, and that they all had to return, naked and bleeding as they were, to the City, where they were received with great joy.

HENRY VI. (1421-1461)
From a portrait in Eton College.

The popularity of the Duke in the City is attested by the memory of his name which long survived in a proverb, “to dine with Duke Humphrey,” i.e. to have no dinner at all. The name of the “Good Duke,” who was buried at St. Albans, was given to a certain tomb in St. Paul’s, that of Sir John Beauchamp, warden of the Cinque Ports, who died in 1358. It became a custom for certain citizens—probably they were a club or association of some kind—to meet at this tomb on St. Andrew’s Day in the morning, and there, under pretence of holding offices under Duke Humphrey, to conclude with a feast. Also, on Mayday, watermen, bearers of tankards, and others, came to the tomb and strewed it with nuts and sprinkled water upon it as if they too were the servants of Duke Humphrey. This custom perished in the Great Fire, which burned up not only tombs and churches and great houses but the memory of great men.

The materials for the reign of Henry VI. as regards London are scanty. We can set forth the principal events in a short space. When the Duke of Burgundy changed sides and joined the King of France, the citizens first showed their detestation of perfidy by murdering a great number of Burgundians and other foreigners resident in the City, and also provided a large body of troops maintained at their own expense for the defence of Calais. There was trouble with the Fishmongers, who were made to abate their pretensions. There was trouble about sanctuary. A soldier named Knight was in prison at Newgate, his friends trumped up a charge of debt against him, and as they had expected, it was necessary for him to go to the Guildhall for trial. His friends, to the number of five, lay in wait in Panyer Alley and snatched him from the hands of the guard as he passed St. Martin le Grand. They hurried him into sanctuary where they defied the power of the City authorities. The two Sheriffs, however, forcibly entered St. Martin’s, and dragged out the whole gang, prisoners and rescuers. These they laid by the heels in Newgate and waited the event. It came, after much argument before the Judges, in the confirmation of St. Martin’s rights. The prisoners were all handed back to the Dean of the College, and replaced in sanctuary where they abode, probably till death.

In Gregory’s Chronicle (see[ p. 112]) we read about a certain Sir Richard Whyche (or Wick) who with his servant was burned on Tower Hill for heresy, “for the whyche there was moche trobil amonge the pepylle, in soo moche that alle the wardys in London were assygnyd to wake there day and nyght that the pepylle myght nought have hyr ylle purpose as at that tyme.” The reason of the “trobil” is told by Fabyan. The people regarded this Richard Wick as a holy and righteous man and greatly resented his martyrdom. The Vicar of Allhallows, Barking, close by, thinking to profit in some way by the deception—probably proposing to get a saint, or martyr, or shrine with offerings, or pilgrimages for his own church—hit upon a notable design for increasing the popular reverence. He mixed fragrant powders with the ashes of the heretic as they lay on Tower Hill: then he loudly called attention to this marvel: “Lo! the very ashes of the martyr exhale a sweet scent.” And he sold small portions of the ashes for large sums of money. This villainy continued for some days until the whole town being disturbed by the strange story, they arrested the Vicar and made him confess. Perhaps the Vicar was himself a Lollard and endeavoured in this way to become a popular martyr. There had been, indeed, many popular martyrs, Sautre, Bradby, Cobham, Cleydon, and others; the people stood round the stake in tears, but no one ever dared to move. Lollardy was dying out save for the hatred entertained by the people against the wealthy Religious Houses.

In 1429 the King, being then eight years of age, was crowned at Westminster before being taken over to France to be crowned there. The ceremony and order of the coronation service are fully set forth by Gregory:—

“Nowe of the solempnyte of the coronacyon. Alle the prelatys wente on processyon beryng eche of hem a certayne relyke: and the Pryor of Westemyster bare a rodde callyde Virga regia, ande the Abbot of Westemyster bare the kyngys ceptoure. And my Lorde of Warwyke bare the kynge to chyrche in a clothe of scharlet furryd, evyn as the newe knyghtys of the Bathe wente whythe furryde hoodys with menyver. And then he was led up in to the hyghe schaffold, whyche schaffold was coveryd alle with saye by twyne the hyghe auter and the quere. And there the kyng was sette in hys sete in the myddys of the schaffold there, beholdynge the pepylle alle aboute saddely and wysely. Thenne the Arche-byschoppe of Cantyrbury made a proclamacyon at the iiij quartyrs of schaffolde, sayynge in thys wyse: ‘Syrys, here comythe Harry, Kyng Harry the v ys sone, humylyche to God and Hooly Chyrche, askynge the crowne of thy(s) realme by ryght and dyscent of herytage. Yf ye holde you welle plesyd with alle and wylle be plesyd with hym, say you nowe, ye! and holde uppe youre hondys.’ And thenne alle the pepylle cryde with oo voyce, ‘Ye! ye!’ Thenne the kynge went unto the hyghe auter, and humely layde hym downe prostrate, hys hedde to the auter warde, longe tyme lyyng stylle. Thenne the arche-byschoppys and byschoppys stode rounde a-boute hym, and radde exercysyons ovyr hym, and many antemys i-song by note. And thenne the arche-byschoppes wente to hym and strypte hym owte of hys clothys in to hys schyrte. And there was yn hys schyrte a thynge lyke grene taffata, whyche was i-lasyd at iiij placys of hym. Thenne was he layde a downe a yenne, and helyd hym with hys owne clothys yn the same maner a-fore sayde. And thenne the Byschoppe of Chester and of Rouchester songe a letany ovyr hym. And the Arche-byschoppe of Cantyrbury radde demany colettys ovyr him. Thenne the arche-byschoppys toke hym uppe a gayne and unlasyd hym, and a-noynted hym. Fyrste hys bryste and hys ij tetys, and the myddys of hys backe, and hys hedde, alle a-crosse hys ij schylderys, hys ij elbowys, his pamys of hys hondys: and thenne they layde a certayne softe thynge as cotton to alle the placys a-noyntyd: and on hys hedde they putt on a whyte coyffe of sylke. And so he wentte viij days: and at the viij dayes the byschoppys dyde wasche hit a-waye with whyte wyne i-warmyd leuke warme. And the knyghtys of the Garter helde a clothe of a-state ovyr hym alle the whyle of his waschynge. To the fyrste processe, aftyr the oyntynge he layde hym doune prostrate a-gayne. Thenne the arche-byschoppys raddyn solempne colettys with a solempne prefas. And thenne they toke hym up a-gayne and putte a-pon hym a goune of scharlette whythe a pane of ermyn, and Synt Edwarde ys sporys, and toke hym hys cepter in hys honde, and the kyngys yerde i-callyd Virga regia in hys othyr honde, sayyng there-with, Reges eos in virga ferrea, etc., he syttyng thenne in a chayre by fore the hyghe auter. And thenne alle the byschoppys seseden with a swerde, they alle syttynge there hondys thereon, ande alle they saynge thes wordys thys to hym, Accingere gladio tuo super femur tuum, potentissime. And at every tyme the kyng answeryd and sayde, Observabo. Thenne toke they the swerde a-gayne fro hym, and layde the swerde on the hyghe auter. Thenne bought the kyng hys swerde a-gayne of Hooly Chyrche for an C s. in signe and in tokyn that the vertu and power sholde come fyrste fro Hooly Chyrche. Thenne sette they on hys hedde Synt Edwarde ys crowne. Thenne rose he owte of hys chayre and layde hym downe prostrate a-gayne. And there the byschoppys sayde ovyr hym many hooly colettys. And thenne they toke hym up and dyspoylyd hym of hys gere a-yen, and thenne a-rayde hym as a byschoppe that sholde sing a masse, with a dalmadyke lyke unto a tunycule with a stole a-bowte hys necke, not crossyd, and a-pon hys fete a payre of sandellys as a byschoppe, and a cope and glovys lyke a byschoppe: and thenne sette a-yen on hys hedde Synt Edward ys crowne, and layde hym a-pon the schaffold and sette hym a sete of hys astate, and ij byschoppys stondyng on every syde of hym, helpyng hym to bere the crowne, for hyt was ovyr hevy for hym, for he was of a tendyr age. And then they be-ganne the masse, and the Arche-byschoppe of Cauntyrbury songe the masse. And a nothyr byschop radde the pystylle. And the Byschoppe of Worsethyr radde the gospelle at the auter. And at the offretory come the kyng downe and made the oblacyon of brede and wyne, there whythe offerynge a pounde weyght of golde, the whiche contaynyd xvj marke of nobbelys. And thenne wente he uppe a-gayne in to the schaffold and satte there in hys sete tylle the iij Agnus Dei, and thenne he come downe a-gayne and layde hym prostrate saying there hys Confyteor and alle the prelatys sayde Misereator. And thenne he sate uppe, knelynge with humylyte and grete devocyon, ressavyng the iij parte of the holy sacrament apon the paten of the chalys of the Arch-byschoppe handys. Thenne there come the Byschoppe of London with the grete solempne chalys by Synt Edwarde and servyd hym whythe wyne: the whyche chalis by Synt Edwarde ys dayes was praysyd at xxx M marke: and the Cardenalle of Wynchester and a othyr byschoppe helde to hym the towelle of sylke: and so he knelyd stylle tylle mas was i-doo. Thenne rosse he up a-gayne and yede a-fore the schryne, and there was he dyspoylyde of all the ornamentys that he weryde, lyke the ornamentys of a byschoppe, as hyt was sayde by-fore: and thenne he was a-rayde lyke a kynge in a ryche clothe of golde, with a crowne sette on hys hedde, whyche crowne Kynge Rycharde hadde made for hym selfe. And so the kynge was ladde thoroughe the palys yn to the halle, and alle the newe knyghtys be-fore hym in hyr a-raye of scharlette: and thenne all the othyr lordys comynge aftyr hym: thenne come the othyr lordys comynge aftyr hem. Thenne come the chaunceler with hys crosse bare heddyd: and aftyr hym come cardenelle with hys crosse in hys abyte lyke a chanon yn a garment of rede chamelett, furryd whythe whyte menyver. And thenne folowyde the Kynge, and he was ladde by-twyne the Byschoppe of Dyrham and the Byschoppe of Bathe; and my goode Lorde of Warwyke bare uppe hys trayne. And byfore hym rode my Lorde of Saulysbury as Constabylle of Ingelonde in my Lorde of Bedforde hys stede, and thenne my Lorde of Glouceter as Stywarde of Ingelonde. And aftyr hym rode the Duke of Northefolke as Marchalle of Ingelonde. And before the kynge iiij lordys bare iiij swerdys, ij in there schaberdys and ij nakyde. And one wa poynteles of the iiij swerdys above sayde. And as they [were] syttyng at mete the kyng kepte hys astate: and on the ryght honde sate the Cardynalle whythe a lower astate: and on the lyfte syde sate the chaunceler and a byschoppe of Fraunce, and noo moo at that tabylle. And on the ryght honde of the halle at that borde kepte the baronys of the Fyffe portys, and soo forthe, clerkes of the Chaunsery: and on the lefte honde sate the Mayre of London and hys aldyrmen, and othyr worthy comynerys of the cytte of London. And in the myddys of the halle sate the byschoppys, and justysys, and worthy knyghtys, and squyers, and soo fyllyde bothe the myddylle tabyllys of the halle. And at the ryght honde of the halle uppon a schaffolde, stode the kyngys of harowdys alle the mete tyme in hyr cote armorys and hyr crownys in hyr heddys. Ande at the fyrste course they come downe and wente by fore the kyngys champyon, Syr Phylyppe Dymmoke, that rode in the halle i-armyde clene as Syn Jorge. And he proclaymyd in the iiij quarterys of the halle that the kynge was ryghtefulle ayre to the crowne of Ingelonde, and what maner man that wolde nay hyt, he was redy for to defende hyt as hys knyghte and hys champyon. Ande by that offyce he holdythe hys londys, etc.” (“Chronicle” in Collection of a London Citizen.) William Gregory as a good citizen cannot refrain from giving the menu of the Coronation banquet. One pities the poor child having to go through the long ceremony of the Abbey first and having to sit out this long banquet afterwards.

HENRY VI. AT THE SHRINE OF ST. EDMUND
From MS. in British Museum. Harl. 2278.

Next year Henry was taken over to Paris, and there also solemnly crowned, with no doubt another Coronation banquet. In the same year there was a small and unimportant tumult which shows the lingering of Lollardy. The leader who called himself Jack Sharpe wanted to have a rising in London in order to take away the temporalities of the Church. The Chronicle of London says that his name was William Maundeville, some time a weaver of Abingdon. He chose his time when the King and most of the lords were away in France, when, with his friends, he spread abroad bills and placards in every town. Nothing came of it except to himself and his party, for he and some of his friends were hanged, drawn, and quartered, and their heads set upon London Bridge. And, the same year, there was one Russell, a craftsman of free and independent thought, who purposed to create an entirely new House of Lords after his own ideas. He, a Reformer before his age, was hanged, drawn, and quartered. In the same year it is casually mentioned “that Pucylle was brent at Rone and that was upon Corpus Christi Even.”

In January 1432 the King returned to England, and on St. Valentine’s Day (Sharpe says 20th February: Gregory says Valentine’s Day) he was received by the City, the Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs, with an immense following of citizens, who rode out as far as Blackheath to meet him. They presented him with the following address:—

“Sovereign Lord as welcome be ye to your Roiaulme of Englond, and in especial to your notable Cite London, otherwise called your Chambre, as ever was Christen Prince to place or people, and of the good and gracioux achevying of your Coronne of Fraunce, we thank hertlich our Lord Almighty which of His endless mercy sende you grace in joye and prosperite on us and all your other people long for to regnew.”

The King receiving this address rode on to Deptford, where he was met by a whole regiment of clergy all in their robes, with monks chanting psalms of praise. Thence into London where a noble reception awaited him. The description which follows is also taken from Gregory’s Chronicle.

“At the south end of London Bridge was erected a tower: and in the tower stood a giant holding a sword and saying solemnly Inimicos ejus induam confusione. On each side of the giant was an antelope, one with the arms of England and one with that of France. At the drawbridge was another tower with three crowned empresses namely, Nature, Grace, and Fortune who gave the young king gifts. On the right hand of the Empresses stood seven fair maidens in white powdered with stars of gold, who gave the king seven gifts of the Holy Spirit in the likeness of seven white doves. On the left side were seven maidens in white powdered with stars of gold, who gave the king seven gifts of worship, and the maydens sang an hevynly songe unto the kynge of praysynge and of hys victorye and welle comynge home.”

At the Conduit of Cornhill there was a tabernacle in which sat a King in royal apparel: with him the Lady of Mercy, the Lady of Truth, and the Lady of Cleanness, “hem embracing with Reson.” Before the King two Judges of great worthiness with eight serjeants-at-law with this scripture—

“Honowre of kyngys in every mannys syght

Of comyn curtosie, lovythe, equyte, and ryghte.”

At the Great Conduit there was a royal sight like unto Paradise. There were virgins drawing water and wine of joy and of pleasure and comfort, the which are to every man’s comfort and health. These maidens were named Mercy, Grace, and Pity. In this Paradise stood two old men “like heveynly folk.” They were named Enoch and Eli, and they saluted the King with words of grace and virtue.

“And soo rode he forthe unto the Crosse in Cheppe. There stood a royalle castelle of jasper grene, and there yn ij grene treys stondyng uppe ryght, showyng the ryght tytyllys of the Kyng of Inglond and of Fraunce, convaying from Synt Edwarde and Synt Lowys be kyngys unto the tyme of Kyng Harry the vj every kyng stondynge whythe hys cote armowre, sum lyberdys, and sum flourdelysse; and on that othyr syde was made the Jesse of owre Lorde ascendyng uppewards from Davyd unto Jesu. And so rode he forthe unto the Lytylle Condyte. And there was a ryalle mageste of the Trynyte, fulle of angelys syngyng hevynly songys, blessynge ande halowynge the kyngys whythe thes resonys in Latyn wrytyn; Angelis suis mandavit de te ut custodiant te, etc. Longitudinem dierum replebo in eum et ostendam illi salutare meum. And thenne vente he forthe unto Poulys, and there he was ressayvyd whythe bysvhoppys and prelatys whythe dene and the quere, and whythe devoute songe, as hyt longythe to a kynge. Ande so he offerryd there and thankyd God of hys goode speede and of hys welfare. And thenne he rode to Westemyster, and there he restyd hym: and on the nexte day followynge the mayre and the aldyrmen whythe a certayne comeners that were worthy men, and they presentyde the kynge whythe an hampyr of sylvyr and gylte, whythe a M l. there yn of nobellys, etc.”

The next great Riding was the reception of Margaret of Anjou when she came over to be married in the year 1445, when the same “properties,” castle, tower, and other devices, were brought out to greet her.

The disastrous wars in France, the lavish expenditure which produced nothing but defeat, the unsettled condition of the Low Countries with which the greatest part of the London foreign trade had been carried on, a succession of bad harvests, with other causes, affected the prosperity of the City as well as smaller towns very sensibly. When the Parliament of 1433 voted a fifteenth and a tenth it assigned £4000 to the relief of poor towns. Of this sum £76: 15: 6¼ was assigned to eighteen wards of London.

In 1447 a petition was presented to Parliament by four priests of the City, viz. William Litchfield, Allhallows the Great: Gilbert, St. Andrew’s Holborn; John Cote, St. Peter’s Cornhill: and John Neil, St. Thomas Acons Hospital, and St. Peter Colechurch; praying for permission to set up schools of grammar in their respective parishes. They base their request on the small and insufficient number of schools in London compared with the great number that had existed in former days. What schools were they? FitzStephen mentions three in the time of Henry II. What grammar schools were founded between 1150 and 1450? Every monastery it is said had its school. Certainly the novices and the wards of the Abbot were under instruction: their place was assigned to them in the Cloisters and there were rules as to their supervision. But the sons of the citizens were not admitted to these schools. The King replied that the schools might be established or provided, subject to the approval of the Archbishop.

We have now arrived at a strange and not wholly intelligible event, the rising of the Kentish men and their occupation of London.

The most important of these rebellions, known as that of Jack Cade, was one among many which showed the temper of the people. The reverses in France, where all that Henry V. had won was lost, never to be recovered; the exactions and taxations; the many cases in which persons were accused of treason and thrown into prison in order that others might obtain their lands; created a widespread discontent, which, in these risings, became the wrath which seizes on the sword and demands the ordeal of civil war. There were at least three other leaders in Kentish risings, one called Blue Beard, another named William Parminter and a third named John Smyth. In Wiltshire the Bishop of Salisbury was dragged from the altar and brutally murdered; and the insurgents in that county were reckoned at 10,000 men.

Why they rose, and what were their grievances, are shown in the remarkable document in which they are set forth.

As for the people who took part in these risings, it is certain that they were by no means the common labourers and villeins, such as those who went out with Wat Tyler. It is also certain that they chose as their leader one who had some knowledge of war. And it must be remembered that the men who flocked to the standard of Mortimer were as well armed, and as good soldiers, as any whom the King could collect or could command.

The leader called himself, or was called, Mortimer, and it is said gave out that he was cousin to the Duke of York. His real name it is said—but there seems some reason to doubt the story—was John Cade; he was an Irishman by birth and he had been in the service of Sir Thomas Dacre in Sussex, but had been compelled to abjure the country for having killed a woman with child. He passed over to France and served in the French army against England, but later he returned, assumed the name of Aylmer, and married the daughter of a Squire; at this time he called himself physician, and on the outbreak of the rebellion assumed the name of Mortimer.[3]

On the 1st of June the rebels reached London and encamped at Blackheath. The King, who was at Leicester, hastened to town with a large army of 20,000 men and lay at St. John’s Priory, Smithfield. Instead of marching upon the rebels at once, he waited, and sent messengers to know what they wanted.

They replied by a long and carefully drawn up “Bill of Articles,” which was evidently the work of some clerk or lawyer: it was a document which proves the rising to have been no chance effervescence, but a deliberate and intelligent attempt to set forth and to remedy grievances. It must be noted that Jack Cade or Mortimer kept up correspondence with the City, having appointed one Thomas Cocke, Draper, as his agent.

The following is the “Bill of Articles”:—

1. “Imprimis, it is openly noised that Kent shoulde be destroyed with a royall power, and made a wylde foreste for the Deathe of the Duke of Suffolk, of which the Commons of Kent thereof were never guilty.

2. “Item, the king is stirred to lyve only on his Commons and other men to have ther revenues of the Crown the which hath caused povertie in his excellencie, and great payments of the people, now late to the king graunted in his Parliament.

3. “Item, that the Lordes of his Royall bloud been put from his dayly presence, and other meane persons of lower nature exalted and made chiefe of his Privie Counsell, the whiche stoppeth matters of wronges done in the realme, from his excellent audience, and may not be redressed as lawe will, but if bribes and giftes be messengers to the handes of the Sayd Counsell.

4. “Item, the people of his realme be not payd of debts owing for stuffe and purveyance taken to the use of the king’s householde, in undoing of the sayd people, and the poor Commons of this realme.

5. “Item, the king’s menial servantes of householde and other persons, asken dayly goods and lands, of impeached or indited of treason, the which the king graunteth anon, ere they so endangered be convict. The which causeth the receyvers thereof to enforge labours and means applyed to the death of such people, so apeached or indited, by subtyl means, for covetyse of the said grauntes: and the people so impeached or indited, though it be untrue, may not be committed to the Lawe for their deliverance, but helde still in prison, to their uttermost undoing and destruction, for covetyse of goods.

6. “Item, though divers of the poore people and Commons of the Realme, have never so great right, trueth, and perfect tytle to these landes, yet by untrue clayme of enesessment made unto divers States, Gentles, and the king’s meniall Servauntes in maintenaunces againste the ryght, the true owners dare not holde, clayme, nor pursue their right.

7. “Item, it is noysed by common voices, that the king’s landes in Fraunce been aliened and put awaye from the Crown, and his Lordes and people there destroyed with untrue means of treason, of which it is desyred, enquiries through all the realme to be made howe and by whom, and if such traytors may be found guiltie, them to have execution of Lawe without any pardon in example of other.

8. “Item, Collectors of the 3rd pennie in Kent be greatly vexed and hurte in paying great summes of money, in the Eqchequere to sue out a Writ called Quorum nomina for the allowance of the Barons of the ports, which nowe is desyred, that hereafter in the lieu of the Collectors the Barons aforesaide may sue it out for their ease at their own costes.

9. “Item, the Sheriffs and undersheriffs, let to farme their offices and Bayliwikes, taking great suertie therefore, the which causeth extortions done by them and by their Bailiffs to the people.

10. “Item, simple and poore people that use not hunting be greatly oppressed by inditments sained and done by the said sheriffs, undersheriffs, Baylifs, and oter of their assent, to cause their increase for paying of their said farme.

11. “Item, they returne in names of conquests in writing into divers courtes of the kinges not summoned nor warned, where though the people dayly leese great sumes of money, welny to the uttermost of their undoing: make levie of amercementes called the Greene Ware, more in summes of money than can be founde due of recorde in the kinges bookes.

12. “Item, the ministers of the courte of Dover in Kent bere and arest diver people through all the Shire out of Castle warde passing their bands and libertie bred of oldde time, by divers subtile and untrue meanes and actions falsely sained, taking great fee at their lust in great hurt of the people on all the Shire of Kent.

13. “Item, the people of the saide Shire of Kent, may not have their free election in the choosing knights of the Shire, but letters bene sent from divers estates to the great Rulers of all the Country, the which embraceth their tenants and other people by force to choose other persons than the common will is.

14. “Item, whereas knightes of the Shire should chose the kinges collectors indifferently without any bribe taking, they have sent now late to divers persons, notifying them to be collectors whereupon giftes and bribes be taken, and so the collector’s office is bought and sold extortionously at the knightes lust.

15. “Item, the people be sore vexed in costes and labour called to the Sessions of peace in the sayd Shire, appearing from the farthest and uttermost parts of the west unto the east, the which causeth to some men v dayes journey, whereupon they desire the saide appearaunce to be divided into two parties, the which one part to appeare in one place an other part in an other place in releving of the grievaunce and intollerable labours and vexations of the said people.

The requestes by the Captaine of the great assemble in Kent

“Imprimis, desireth the Captaine of the commons, the welfare of our soveraigne Lord the king, and all his true Lords spirituall and temporall, desiring of our faire soveraigne Lorde, and of all the true Lordes of his counsell, he to take in all his demaines, that he may raigne like a king royall, according as he is borne our true Christian king annoynted, and who so will saye the contrarye, we will all live and die in the quarrell as his true liege men.

“Item, desireth the said Captaine, that he will avoide al the false progenie and affinitie of the Duke of Suffolk, the which bene openlye knowne, and they to be punished after the custome and Lawe of this Land, and to take about his noble person the true Lordes of his Royal bloud of this his realme, that is to say, the high and mighty Prince the Duke of Yorke, late exiled from our saide soveraigne Lordes presence (by the motion and stirring of the traiterous and false disposed the Duke of Suffolke and his affinite) and the mighty princes the Dukes of Exeter, Buckingham, and Norfolke, and all the Earles and Barons of this land and than that he be the richest king Christen.

“Item, desireth the said Captaine and Commons punishment upon the false traitors, the which contrived and imagine the Death of the high and mightful excellent Prince the Duke of Gloucester, the whiche is too much to rehearse, and which Duke was proclaomed as traitor. Upon the which quarrell, we purpose all to live and die that it is false.

“Item, the Duke of Exeter, our holy father the Cardinal, the noble Prince, Duke of Warwick, and also the realme of Fraunce, the Dutchie of Normandie, Gascoyne and Gwoin, Ansoy and Mayne, were delivered and lost by the meanes of the sayd traytors and our true Lords, knights, and esquires, and many a good yoman lost and sold ere they went, the which is great pitie to heare, of the great and grievous losse to our Soveraigne Lorde and his realme.

“Item, desireth the said captayne and commons that all the extortions bred dayly among the Common people, might be layde downe, that is to say, the Greene Ware the which is falsely bred, to the perpetuall destruction of the king’s true commons of Kent. Also the king’s bench, the which is too griefefull to the shire of Kent without provision of our Soveraigne and Lord and his true Counsell. And also in taking of Wheate and other graynes, Beefe, Mutton, and all other victual, the which is importable to the Sayd Commons without the brief provision of our said soveraigne Lorde and his true Counsell, they may no longer beare it. And also unto the statute of labourers and the great extortioners, the which is to say the false traytors, Slegge, Crowmer, Isle, and Robert Este.”

These bills were of course disallowed by the Council as presumptuous, and the King was exhorted to suppress the rebels by force. He thereupon moved from Westminster to Greenwich, but when he would have sent an army against the rebels the men refused to fight against those who “laboured to amende the Common Weale.” Then the King temporised, and since the rebels called out against Lord Saye, he committed him to the Tower to pacify them. He then returned to Westminster, and two days afterwards went against the rebels with 15,000 men. But they had withdrawn to Sevenoaks in Kent. Therefore the King sent off Sir Humphrey and William Stafford with a strong force to attack them. They did so, but with the unfortunate result that the force was cut up and all the men slain, and that Jack Cade and his men returned to Blackheath. Then the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Duke of Buckingham held an interview with the leader and found him “discreet in his answers,” though he would not separate himself from his people.

The King and Queen, meanwhile, hearing of more adherents to Cade’s army and perceiving the spread of disaffection among their own people, left London for Kenilworth. Hearing of their departure the “Captain of Kent” entered Southwark, taking up his lodging at the “White Hart”—was it accidental or by design that he chose an Inn with the sign of Richard II.’ s badge? On the same day the Commons of Essex in great numbers encamped at Mile End.

The Chronicles and authorities differ as to the order and details of what followed. The broad outlines are clear. The authorities, who appear to have been at first terror-stricken, resolved on putting the City into a state of defence, chiefly on the exhortation of Robert Horne, Alderman and Stockfish-monger. They placed a guard at all the gates and at the lanes and stairs leading to the river; they forbade the sending of arms outside the City; they placed machines for throwing stones on the wharves; they gave every Alderman four men to assist him in keeping the peace in his ward; but, in spite of all, the rebels came in. There was no resistance, somebody—nobody knew who—got the keys in some mysterious manner and opened the Bridge. And somehow, the courageous Horne found himself in Newgate. Jack Cade’s symbolical action in regard to London Stone is quoted in every child’s history book. Shakespeare alludes to it in Henry VI. (Part II. Act iv. Scene 6)—

“Scene—Cannon Street. Enter Jack Cade with his followers. He strikes his staff on London Stone.

Cade. Now is Mortimer lord of this city.”

On the first day there was peace, no acts of violence were permitted. The rebels roamed at will about the London streets, and probably if they wanted anything they took it. In the evening most of them went home again. But some remained inside, and according to Gregory “searched,” i.e. robbed, all night. On the next day the real brutality of the mob showed itself. They arrested Lord Saye, the High Treasurer of England, and beheaded him in Chepe after a mock trial at the Guildhall, and in so great a hurry were they that they would not give him time to finish his confession. They also beheaded Sir James Crowmer, High Sheriff of Kent, at Mile End, one John Bayle at Whitechapel. Cade would also have beheaded Robert Horne, but his friends ransomed him for 500 marks. According to Fabyan it was after these murders—according to Gregory it was on the first day—that Cade began to pillage the rich merchants, commencing with Philip Malpas. “They spoyled him,” says Gregory, “ande bare away moche goode of hys and in specyalle moche money, both of sylvyr and golde, the valowe of a notabylle sum, and in specyalle of merchaundys as of tynne, woode, madyr, and alym, whythe grete quantyte of wollyn clothe and many ryche jewellys, whythe othyr notabylle stuffs of fedyr beddys, beddyng, napery, and many a ryche clothe of arys, to the valewe of a notabylle sum—nescio; sed Deus omnia scit.”

WHITE HART TAVERN, BISHOPSGATE STREET
From an old print.

Cade also robbed other merchants. Now since nothing so rouses a merchant to fury as the prospect of being robbed, the Aldermen met again and seriously determined that at all costs the rebels must be kept out. They therefore put their defence into the hands of Lord Scales, Lord Governor of the Tower. And then follows a battle, now forgotten, which should have been one of the most picturesque in the whole list of desperate fights. Like the famous Holding of the Bridge of Rome was the Holding of the Bridge of London by Matthew Gough and the citizens. It began on the night of Sunday, July the 5th, at ten “of the bell,” and it continued all night long, without stopping, till eight in the morning. Sometimes the Kentish men drove back the citizens, but never beyond the drawbridge: sometimes the citizens drove back the Kentish men, but never beyond the “bulwark” of the bridge. Matthew Gough, lieutenant of the Tower, was killed in the encounter, so was John Sutton, Alderman, with many other stout citizens and sturdy rebels. All night long, in the clear twilight of the season, while the quiet tide ebbed and flowed beneath the bridge, there were the clash of arms and shouts and groans until the early sun rose. Beyond the Bridge stood the citizens waiting for their turn, which never came, for no one could pass out or in, but the fighting men in the front surged backwards and forwards in a solid mass. And in the houses the people lay sleepless: trembling while the din of battle ceased not.

LONDON STONE

The rebels were worsted in the end. That is, thinking it impossible to force their way into the City they withdrew. Then the Archbishop of Canterbury with the Bishop of Winchester offered them a free pardon, to include their leader, if they would go home quietly.

In the Church of St. Margaret, Southwark, an interview was held between Cade and the Archbishop. The pardons signed by the Chancellor were shown and handed over. The rebels accepted, and in a few hours the whole army had melted away. Probably Cade found that it was useless to hope for success since London held out so fiercely against him. It is said that he tried to continue a hopeless struggle by taking the prisoners out of the Marshalsea and King’s Bench. He then sent his treasures by ship to Rochester and prepared to march on that place with his army of prisoners. Here the story grows confused. There were certainly not enough prisoners to form an army. Perhaps Cade looked for local support at Rochester. However, he found that Rochester would not receive him, so he made an attempt on Queenborough, and he then fled, making for the dense forest which at that time covered nearly the whole of Sussex. He was pursued by the new Sheriff, Alexander Iden, and mortally wounded at a place called Heathfield.

When all was over and there was no more danger, the King returned to London and marched through the City in state. Mindful, perhaps, of Richard’s broken promises of pardon to the rebels, Henry continued his march into Kent and executed twenty-six of them. With these exceptions there seem to have been no other acts of revenge, and the men were tried by the King’s Justices. The usual distribution of rebels’ quarters followed, and the decorations of London Bridge were enlarged by the addition of Jack Cade’s head and by the heads of a few of his companions.

When we consider this strange insurrection it is impossible to class it with that of the rabble under Wat Tyler. There were men of substance among Cade’s followers. We do not find that at first they robbed or plundered or committed any acts of violence: they called upon all men to join them; and they undertook, as soon as these things were amended, to go home quietly again. The insurgents were not a mere rabble. In many villages they were regularly called out by the constables. Either they were an orderly body or they were kept in admirable order by this mysterious leader of theirs. It is true that a charge is brought against Jack Cade of taking things from the houses of two rich citizens; and of loading a ship with his plunder. It may be true, on the other hand it may be the invention of an enemy. When, again, we examine into the actual crimes charged against Cade we find that he executed Lord Saye, regarded as one of the greatest enemies of the realm; also Lord Saye’s son-in-law, late High Sheriff for Kent; one man whose offence is unknown; and one or two marauders in his own camp. That concludes the list of executions, or murders. We have also seen that he had influential friends in London. He kept good order; he defeated the royal force sent out to capture him; he sent up to the King, whoever drew it up, a well-drawn statement of grievances; the Archbishop thought it well to confer with him and was under no apprehension of ill treatment; on his giving the word of dismissal his men quietly dispersed and went home. It is impossible to believe that this man was a mere adventurer seeking an opportunity of private pillage. Who he was, what he was, whence he came, why he was made captain of the Kentish army, it is impossible to say. That he was a common robber and murderer the facts of the case will not allow us to believe. That he was considered of great importance is proved by the perfidy which granted him a “charter” of safety and pardon, and yet offered a reward for his body, dead or alive, and set up his head on London Bridge looking towards Kent. The “Short English Chronicle” (“Three Fifteenth-Century Chronicles,” Camden Society) contains a memorable statement. The day after the all-night battle of London Bridge, the Chancellor—Cardinal Kemp—went to “the capteyne and gave him a charter and his men another and so withdrewe him homeward.” The “Charter” means a free pardon. Richard II. had done the same thing in the case of Wat Tyler’s rebellion. Yet, a day or two afterwards the charter was disregarded, and a proclamation made of a thousand marks reward for the capture of the leader quick or dead. The reason of this broken faith is said by the chronicler to be that it became known that the leader’s name was not Mortimer but Jack Cade, “and therefore his charter stode in no strength.” So they hunted him down and killed him.

HENRY VI. AND HIS COURTIERS
From tapestry in St. Mary’s Hall, Coventry.

The most interesting of all the Paston Letters is one signed John Payn, in which the writer narrates his personal recollections of the Cade Rebellion. I quote it entirely as illustrative of the remarkable movement:—

“Pleasyth it your gode and gracios maistershipp tendyrly to consedir the grete losses and hurts that your por peticioner haeth, and haeth jhad evyr seth the comons of Kent come to the Blakheth, and that is at xv yer passed, whereas my maister Syr John Fastolf, Knyght, that is youre testator, commandyt your besecher to take a man, and ij of the beste orsse that were in his stabyll, with hym to ryde to the comens of Kent, to gete the articles that they come for. And so I dyd; and al so sone as I come to the Blakheth, the capteyn made the comens to take me. And for the savacion of my maisters horse, I made my fellowe to ryde a wey with the ij horses; and I was brought forth with before the capteyn of Kent. And the capteyn demaundit me what was my cause of comyng thedyr, and why that I made my fellowe to stele a wey with the horse. And I seyd that I come thedyr to chere with my wyves brethren, and other that were my alys and gossippes of myn that were present there. And than was there oone there, and seid to the capteyn that I was one of Syr John Fastolfes men, and the ij horse were Syr John Fastolfes; and then the capteyn lete cry treson upon me thorought all the felde, and brought me at iiij partes of the feld with a harrawd of the Duke of Exetter before me in the dukes cote of armes makyng iiij Oyes at iiij partes of the feld; proclaymyng opynly by the seid harrawd that I was sent thedyr for to espy theyre pusaunce, and theyre abyllyments of werr, fro the grettyst traytor that was in Yngelond or in Fraunce, as the seyd capteyn made proclaymycion at that tyme, fro oone Syr John Fastolf, Knyght, the whech mynnysshed all the garrisons of Normaundy, and Manns, and Mayn, the whech was the cause of the lesyng of all the Kyngs tytyll and ryght of an herytaunce that he had by yonde see. And morovyr he seid that the seid Sir John Fastolf had furnysshed his plase with the olde sawdyors of Normaundy and abyllyments of werr, to destroy the comens of Kent whan that they come to Southewerk; and therfor he seyd playnly that I shulde lese my hede.

And so furthewith I was taken, and led to the capteyns tent, and j ax and j blok was brought forth to have smetyn of myn hede; and than my maister Ponyngs, your brodyr, with other of my frendes, come and lettyd the capteyn, and seyd pleynly that ther shulde dye a C or ij

Wherupon I come to my maister Fastolf, and brought hym th’articles, and enformed hym of all the mater, and counseyled hym to put a wey all his abyllyments of werr and the olde sawdiors; and so he dyd, and went hymself to the Tour, and all his meyny with hym but Betts and j [i.e. one] Mathew Brayn; and had not I ben, the comens wolde have brennyd his plase and all his tennuryes, wher thorough it coste me of my noune propr godes at that tyme more than vj merks in mate and drynke; and nought withstondyng the capteyn that same tyme lete take me atte Whyte Harte in Suthewerk, and ther comandyt Lovelase to dispoyle me oute of myn aray, and so he dyd. And there he toke a fyn gowne of muster dewyllers furryd with fyn bevers, and j peyr of Bregandyrns kevert with blew fellewer [velvet] and gylt naile, with leg-harneyse, the vallew of the gown and the bregardyns viij l. [£8].

Item, the capteyn sent certeyn of his meyny to my chamber in your rents, and there breke up my chest, and toke awey j obligacion of myn that was due unto me of xxxvj l. by a prest of Poules, and j nother obligacion of j knyght of x l., and my purse with v ryngs of golde, and xvijs vjd of golde and sylver; and j herneyse [harness] complete of the touche of Milleyn; and j gowne of fyn perse blewe furryd with martens; and ij gounes, one furryd with bogey, and j nother lyned with fryse; and ther wolde have smetyn of myn hede, whan that they had dyspoyled me atte White Hart. And there my Maister Ponyngs and my frends savyd me, and so I was put up tyll at nyght that the batayle was at London Brygge; and than atte nyght the capteyn put me oute into the batayle atte Brygge, and there I was woundyt, and hurt nere hand to deth; and there I was vj oures in the batayle, and myght nevyr come oute therof; and iiij tymes before that tyme I was caryd abought thorought Kent and Sousex, and ther they wolde have smetyn of my hede.

And in Kent there as my wyfe dwellyd, they toke awey all oure godes mevabyll that we had, and there wolde have hongyd my wyfe and v of my chyldren, and lefte her no more gode but her kyrtyll and her smook. And a none aftyr that hurlyng, the Bysshop Roffe apechyd me to the Quene, and so I was arrestyd by the Quenes commaundment in to the Marchalsy, and there was in ryght grete durasse, and fere of myn lyf, and was thretenyd to have ben hongyd, drawen, and quarterud; and so wold have made me to have pechyd my Maister Fastolf of treson. And by cause that I wolde not, they had me up to Westminster, and there wolde have sent me to the gole house at Wyndsor; but my wyves and j coseyn of myn noune that were yomen of the Croune, they went to the Kyng, and got grase and j chartyr of pardon.”

The Civil Wars and the part taken by the City belong to the history of the nation, and may be briefly dismissed in these pages. The City began with loyalty to the King. He was the son of their hero and darling, the Victor of Agincourt; and he was the grandson of their own King whom they themselves had brought over and set upon the throne. These two considerations outweighed all others, even the disasters in France, the miserable condition to which the country had been brought, and the weakness of the King. Meantime the long-deferred birth of a son strengthened the loyalty of all Lancastrians. The poverty of the City at this time is proved by the fact that when, in 1453, an assessment of half a fifteenth was made, eleven out of the twenty-five wards were in default. After the battle of St. Albans, 22nd May 1455, the Duke of York brought the King to London and lodged him in the Bishop’s Palace, St. Paul’s Churchyard.

There were no Jews to bait and murder, but there were the Lombard money-lenders. On two occasions there were riots between the mercers and the Lombards. After the first, two of the Lombards were hanged. They threatened to retire from the City altogether, but remained and suffered another attack a year later for which twenty-eight mercers were committed to prison. The internal dissensions were followed by the inevitable consequences, of diminished trade, the appearance of pirates in the Channel, and the descent of the French upon the coasts. They plundered Sandwich, for instance, and captured thirty ships. Thereupon the City raised a small force of 2000 men and fitted out ships for them.

The unhappy reign of Henry draws to a close. In 1458 the King tried to effect a reconciliation between the two rival sections of the nobility, and called a conference to meet in St. Paul’s. Warwick attended with a following of 600 men in his livery; the Duke of York and the Earl of Salisbury were received in the City; the young Duke of Warwick and others of the opposite factions were kept outside. And still further to prevent disorder, the Mayor kept a guard of 3000 men in readiness to stand by the Aldermen in case of a disturbance.

The conference was held, and the reconciliation was effected; a solemn service with a procession was held in the Cathedral. Six months later the war broke out again.

Early in 1460 the King issued a commission to the Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs for collecting men and arms to resist the Duke of York. The order was received with jealousy as threatening the City liberties, but the King explained that no such attack was intended. In February the masters and wardens were ordered to look to their arms and their men in view of the dangers threatening the City. In June the Yorkist Lords made a descent on Sandwich, and marched upon London. The City hurriedly placed itself in a position for defence. There was a great show of resistance; the rebel Lords were not to be admitted; they were to keep at a certain distance from the City; then a letter was received from the Earl of Warwick, and, no one knows why, the gates were thrown open and the Lords were admitted.

They proceeded to starve the garrison of the Tower into surrender. Lord Scales, the governor, attempted to reach Westminster by boat in order to take refuge in Sanctuary. He was discovered by the Thames watermen and murdered. After the Battle of Northampton, Henry was brought into London as prisoner. In October of the same year, 1460, the Duke of York declared his right to the Crown, and the struggle was no longer between rival sections of nobles, but between the King and the Claimant.

After the Second Battle of St. Albans, the Queen ordered provisions to be sent to her at St. Albans from London, but the mob stopped the carts. Margaret moved her troops farther north. Then Edward and the Earl of Warwick were admitted within the walls, London was lost to the Lancastrians, and the first half of the Wars of the Roses was at an end.

HANDWRITING IN AN ENGLISH CHARTER, 1457 A.D.

(and fully to be endid, payinge yerely the seid—

successours in hand halfe yere afore that is—

next suyinge xxiij s iiij d by evene porciouns.)

---

[CHAPTER XII]
EDWARD IV

The reign of Edward IV., who had now become, as he remained to the end, the most popular of kings in the City of London, presents a record of continual agitation and excitement. He stayed first at Baynard’s Castle, where he began his reign by hanging an unfortunate grocer of Cheapside, trading under the sign of the “Crown,” for saying that his son was heir to the crown. Of course Walker must have said more than that. There were Lancastrians still among the citizens. One could hardly hang a man for making a feeble pun. His remarks were probably seditious and disrespectful to Edward’s title. From the death of Richard II. to the accession of Henry VIII. all the English kings were extremely sensitive as to the strength and reality of their titles.

EDWARD IV. (1442-1483)

The news from the north of the siege of Carlisle would not allow the King to be crowned at once as was intended. A week after the Proclamation he started hurriedly for the north to meet Henry, to whom he gave battle at Towton. The result of the stubborn contest was the defeat of Henry, who with the Queen and his son Prince Edward and such of the Lords as were left, fled into Scotland. Edward stayed awhile to set things in order and then rode south. He was welcomed by the Mayor and Aldermen and five hundred citizens at Lambeth on 27th July, and was escorted to the Tower, whence on the 29th—the 28th day of each month was accounted unlucky—he rode to Westminster and was crowned with due ceremony.

In the second year of his reign he granted a Charter to the City in which he confirmed all past privileges and liberties. The Mayor, Recorder, and Aldermen past the chair, were appointed perpetual justices as long as they continued to be Aldermen. They were also constituted justices of Oyer and Terminer for the trying of all malefactors within their jurisdiction; they were exempt from serving on Juries or on Foreign Assizes, and from having to undertake certain offices; they were empowered to hold a Fair in the Borough of Southwark; and they received certain other privileges connected with waifs, strays, and treasure trove. Three other Charters were granted by Edward. All of them will be found in the Appendix.

The year 1463 was taken up by another campaign in the north, with sieges of castles, and with the usual crop of treasures, perjuries, arrests, and beheadings. Surely there was never any war or contest more disgraced by change of sides, broken oaths, and villainies, than this War of the Roses.

Edward returned to London in February 1463, and was received by a procession of barges. It has been observed, doubtless, that the mediæval citizens were at all times perfectly regardless of the season: they had a Riding in January, a Coronation in December, a water procession in February quite as happily as in July or August. Yet it is very certain that the climate was as capricious and as uncertain then as now.

In 1464 the King married secretly Elizabeth, the young widow of Sir John Grey, and daughter of Lord Rivers. The Queen was crowned in May 1465. In the same year the unfortunate King Henry was taken prisoner, and brought to the Tower of London. At this point we may take up the somewhat tangled story of Alderman Coke. In the early years of King Edward’s reign Coke was treated with special favour by the King. Other Aldermen were made plain Knights. Coke was made a Knight of the Bath. He had a town-house and a country seat, Gidea Hall in Essex. It was this Coke who, when he was made Lord Mayor, finding at an entertainment that the most honourable seat at the table, which belonged to himself, had been taken by the Lord High Treasurer, refused to sit down at all, and with the Aldermen and the citizens retired to his own house, where he gave a dinner.

Coke in 1465 was impeached of treason. What kind of treason? Gregory says that many men both of London and of other towns were also impeached. Treason was everywhere. Every man’s dearest friend conspired against him. When one sees the things that were done by great lords we may believe the charges against the merchants. The times, moreover, were doubtful. It behoved men who were afraid of losing their substance, if not their heads, to be ready at any moment for a change. Therefore Alderman Sir Thomas Coke, K.C.B., may very well have carried on treasonable correspondence with the other side. He was arrested, released on bail, arrested again, his effects seized, and his wife committed to the care of the Lord Mayor. He was acquitted, but in spite of his acquittal he was sent to the Bread Street Compter, and thence to the King’s Bench, and there kept till he paid £8000 to the King, and £800 to the Queen. Moreover, the servants of Lord Rivers had pillaged his house in Essex, destroyed the deer in his park, killed his rabbits and his fish, carried off all his brass and his pewter, and Lord Rivers obtained the dismissal of the judge who acquitted him. When Henry VI. was restored Coke had his property restored, but on power being regained by Edward, he fled. He was caught, imprisoned, and then pardoned, with everybody else concerned. Coke is an ancestor both of Sir Francis Bacon and the Marquis of Salisbury.

In a few years the proverbial instability of fortune was again illustrated, together with the wisdom—the cunning of a fox—of keeping in with both parties. It was Edward’s lavish gifts to the Queen’s brothers and cousins, and his neglect of the few great nobles left, that caused the next disturbances. The defection of Warwick, and the Rebellion of Lincolnshire, hardly belong to London history. But it must be recorded that the rebels reached Charing Cross, that they found in the “Palace called the Mews” Lord Rivers and his son, whom they beheaded, and that they captured the King. Edward, however, found means to escape and reached London, where he was received with loyal assurances. And so the war began again, as may be read in the History of England.

On October the 1st, Edward fled to Scotland where he was certain to find safety at least. The Queen, then enceinte, took refuge in the Sanctuary. The Tower of London was surrendered to the Mayor, who held it until the arrival of Warwick and Clarence. But Henry was removed from his prison to the State apartments. There appears to have been no order maintained or attempted in the City during these distractions. Every man made haste to change his side, and the caps that had been tossed up for Edward now darkened the sky for Henry with equal zeal. There was a rising of the City rabble, headed by one Sir Geoffrey Gates, whose character is vaguely summed up by Maitland in the words, “of abandoned principles.” The mob, under his leading, spoiled the foreign merchants—Lombards, Flemings, and others—and then, probably having met with some resistance, they got over to Southwark, where they robbed, burned, and destroyed and ravished through all the Borough, together with St. Catherine’s, Limehouse, and Ratcliffe, the City not attempting anything until the arrival of Warwick, when the mob was dispersed and the ringleaders hanged.

SHIPS OF THE PERIOD
From MS. in Brit. Mus. Reg. 15, Ed. IV.

Henry was once more a King, and lodged in the Bishop’s Palace. The Parliament, summoned in haste, met in St. Paul’s Chapter House and called Edward a usurper. But the Mayor took care to be sick and confined to his bed. Coke occupied his place, which seems to increase the probability of that alleged treason. The restoration of the unfortunate Henry lasted for six months. In April, Edward entered London again with the customary rejoicings, sallied forth immediately, met Warwick at Barnet, defeated and slew him, and returned for more rejoicings and in order to lead Henry clad in a long gown like a bedesman back to the Tower, and then marched into the west, where Tewkesbury witnessed the final destruction of the Lancastrian cause.

Then followed, as concerns London, the gallant attempt of the captain known as the Bastard of Falconbridge. We may look upon this leader as a freebooter and as a pirate, or we may look upon him as a loyal and faithful follower of Warwick. From either point of view it is a striking episode in the history of the time as well as the history of London. Moreover, it is one of the few early recorded appearances of the English sailor.

Thomas, the Bastard of Falconbridge, was an illegitimate son of William Nevill, Lord Falconbridge or Falconberg, Earl of Kent, and brother of the Earl of Warwick. He had received the freedom of the City in the year 1454, seventeen years before his attempt. (Sharpe, London and the Kingdom.) This distinction was in recognition of his services in connection with the destruction of pirates at the mouth of the Thames. As for his age, if he were about twenty-five at that time, he would be about forty when he led his men to the siege of London. He was by no means an unknown or an obscure person. The Earl of Warwick[4] had made him Vice-Admiral of the Sea, “so that none should pass from Calais to Dover for the succour of Edward,” a post of no mean responsibility. Then, Grafton tells us, being driven into need and poverty, he became a pirate, and through his robbery and “shameful spoyling” got together a great navy of ships. We need not believe in the piracy; he probably held the navy for the Earl of Warwick, for whom he seems to have had a sailor-like fidelity. Nor is there anything to show need and poverty. Hearing, however, that his patron was again in the field, the Bastard resolved on striking a blow for him. He landed, therefore, on the coast of Kent and raised a large force of Kentishmen, who seem to have forgiven Henry for his perfidy in the Cade business and now joined the stout-hearted sailor who called himself Captain of King Henry’s people in Kent. He was not therefore a rebel, he was a soldier on the side of the Red Rose. He sent his ships up the Thames with orders to await his coming in the Pool off Blackwall; and with 17,000 men he marched through Kent and appeared before the gates of London Bridge. He wrote to the Mayor from Blackheath asking for permission to pass through the City, promising that no violence would be committed by any of his men. What the ships were to do meanwhile does not appear. It looks, however, very much like an attempt to seize the City. It is certain, further, that he had not received the news of Barnet, or of the death of his illustrious cousin. The Battle of Barnet was fought on 13th April. News could certainly reach the City on the same day, within two or three hours. But it was very possible that in those disturbed times, the ordinary channels of communication being broken off, the news might not reach Kent for some weeks. However that may be, or whenever Falconbridge heard of it, he did not know of Warwick’s death when he began to levy his men.

THE BASTARD OF FALCONBRIDGE ATTACKS LONDON BRIDGE
From a MS. in the University Library, Ghent.

Sharpe has found both Falconbridge’s letter and the Mayor’s reply in the archives of the City. The latter stated that he might possibly hold a commission for the Earl of Warwick, but that the Earl of Warwick was dead, slain on the field of Barnet together with his brother Montague. That further, since that battle, another, that of Tewkesbury, had been fought a week before (this was May 11, and Tewkesbury was fought on May 4), of which they had certain information from their own runners: that “Sir Edward,” the son of Henry VI., was killed after that battle. They therefore exhorted this Captain to disband his forces and to acknowledge King Edward IV. But as for passing through the City they were determined he should not do so. The Bastard professed not to believe that Warwick and Prince Edward were dead; perhaps he really did not believe it. In what followed, however, he certainly showed the intention of making himself master of the City if he could, and the Mayor evidently understood this to be his intention, for he proceeded to fortify the river bank, which, the wall having been long since taken down, was now accessible at fifty points by stairs and narrow alleys and courts leading from Thames Street to the river. The City had not been threatened with an attack from the river since the time of King Canute. The details of the fight which followed are very scanty. Falconbridge landed some of his men—three or four thousand—at St. Katherine’s, and attempted a simultaneous attack on Bishopsgate, Aldgate, the riverside, and London Bridge. Fabyan says that they shot guns and arrows and fired the gates, but nevertheless they seem to have effected nothing in their attack from the river; at Aldgate they actually got in, but the portcullis was dropped and none of them got out again. Robert Basset, the valiant Alderman of Aldgate Ward, was conspicuous for his courage on this occasion. He drove back the Kentish men, put them to flight and killed three hundred of them in their endeavours to reach their boats at Blackwall. Meantime, Falconbridge with the main body of his men was trying to fight his way across London Bridge. They lost heart on hearing of the repulse at Aldgate and fled, being pursued as far as Deptford, a great number being slain. Ralph Jocelyn, late Mayor, was in command of the citizens; he, too, like Robert Basset, performed prodigies of valour. Many of the men were taken prisoners and held for ransom “as they had been Frenchmen,” says Fabyan. The rising was treated as a rebellion, a good many being executed for their share in it. The Captain got on board ship and on the following night dropped down the river with his fleet and so escaped. At Sandwich he fortified himself, for, as he had 47 ships and 800 men, he was strong enough to dictate his own terms—pardon for himself and his men, in return for which he was ready to deliver the ships into the hands of the King. Edward accepted, and the Bastard did deliver up his ships. Six months later, we hear that he was captured at Southampton; and, one knows not on what pretence, they beheaded him. What are we to call the Bastard, pirate or patriot? Henry was still living, though his very hours were now numbered, for on Edward’s return—he had been brought back—it was announced that he was dead, having met with nothing but care and sorrow during the whole of his most wretched life. Gloucester—not of course Humphrey, but Richard—is said to have killed him; but then Gloucester is said to have killed everybody; tradition makes him a universal murderer. At the same time, as everybody else belonging to the Lancastrian party was killed, there seems a sort of rounding off and completion of the work by the murder of Henry. The fight happening so soon after Tewkesbury as to appear uninfluenced by that event, was a splendid example of the City loyalty. What the Mayor would have done had Tewkesbury gone the other way, it is impossible to say. Loyalty, fidelity, honour, truth, in the Wars of the Roses never survived defeat. They were, however, hugely encouraged by a victory. And when Edward rode back to London he heard with pleasure that while he had smitten his enemies in the West of England, his loyal City, his “Chamber,” had bravely rid him of all that were left in the South.

The Battle of London Bridge is recounted in a contemporary ballad:—

“In Sothwerke, at Bambere heth, and Kyngston eke,

The Bastarde and his meane in the contre abowte,

Many grett men in London they made seke,

Man, wyff, ne childe there durst non rowte,

Oxin, shepe, and vetayle, withowtyn any dowte,

They stale away and carrid ever to and froo.

God suffirs moche thyng, his wille to be doo.

Moche sorow and shame the wrecchis thay wroughte,

Fayre placis they brend on the water side.

Thayre myschevus dedis avaylid ham noughte,

Schamfully thay wrougte, and so them betyd.

Thay wolde not leve ther malice, but therin abyde,

Thay cryed kynge Edward and Warwicke also.

Thus the wille of God in every thynge is doo.

At Londone brygge they made asawte, sham to see,

The utter gate on the brygge thay sett on fyre;

Into Londone shott arrows withowte pete.

With gunnus thay were bett that sum lay in the myre.

Thay asked wage of the brygge, thay paid them thayre hire

Ever amonge thay had the worse, then wakynd thaire woo,

False men most be poyneshed, the will of God is soo.

At London brige anodyr sawte thay made agayne,

Wyth gunpowdir and wildefire and straw eke;

Fro the gate to the drawbrygge that brent down playne,

That x myle men mygte se the smeke.

Thay were not of thayre entent the nere of a leke

For into the cite they mygte not com for a wele ne for woo;

God restid thayre malice, the wille of hym was soo.

At Alegate thay sawtid in an ill seasoun;

Thay brente fayre howsis, pitie was to se.

Thus these false men did opyne tresoun,

Supposynge evermore to enture into cite.

God and good seyntes thereof had pitie.

Thayre malice was sesid and turned hem to woo

Thus in everythynge, Lorde, thy will be doo.

The erle of Esex, and also the aldurmen,

At Bysshopus gate togedder they mette,

And owte therat sewde like manly men.

Thay bete hem down, no man mygte hem lett;

Freshely on thayre enmyes that day did thay fyghte.

Thayre false treson brougte theym in woo;

Thus in every thynge, Lorde, thy wille be doo.

The erle Revers, that gentill knygte,

Blessid be the tym that he borne was

By the power of God and his great mygte,

Throw his enmyes that day did he passe.

The maryners were kellid, thay cryed ‘Alas!’

Thayre false tresoun brougte hem in woo,

Thus in every thynge, Lorde, thy wille be doo.”

(Political Poems and Songs, Ed. III.—Rich. III., p. 277;

edited by Thomas Wright.)

These tumults appeased, and the Civil Wars apparently ended, the City got itself to work upon a question of morals.

William Hampton, Mayor in 1473, hit upon a notable device of terrifying evil-doers. Until then, one pair of stocks had been considered sufficient for the whole City. Hampton set up a pair in every Ward. He also hunted out the women of loose conduct; “he corrected”—i.e. flogged—

“strumpets and causyd them to be ladde aboute the towne with raye hoodes upon their heddes divers and many; and spared none for mede nor for favour, that were by the law atteynted, notwithstanding that he might have taken xl pounds of redy money to hym offerid for to have spared one from that jugment.” (Fabyan.)

Henry’s remains lay in state at St. Paul’s and at Blackfriars. It was necessary that people should understand that he was really dead and out of the way. They were then carried to Chertsey where they were buried. Edward knighted all the Aldermen. Sharpe gives the list, in which one is grieved to find neither Robert Basset nor Ralph Jocelyn.

In the year 1475 by an Act of Common Council the election of the Mayor was ordered to be made henceforth by the Mayor, Aldermen, Common-Councilmen, and Liverymen of the City. And so it has remained ever since. Only while the City gave the election to the Liverymen it included all those who had the freedom of the City, excluding any other residents, tenants, foreigners, great Lords, or their followers. The house called “Gildhalla Teutonicorum,” the Steelyard, was in this year granted to the Hanseatic League. The history of this house will be considered separately.

Two more charters were obtained from the King. One granted permission to hold lands in mortmain to a limited extent: the other gave the City the privilege of package, portage, garbling of spices, gauging, wine-drawing, etc., a charter of a commercial and technical kind.

As for the rest of the acts of King Edward they concern not much the City of London. He entertained the Mayor and Aldermen at a hunt; he also sent the Lady Mayoress six fat bucks and a tun of wine, of which they made a great feast at Drapers’ Hall; he murdered his brother, the Duke of Clarence; he invaded France and came back again;—one must needs speak of his mistress, Jane Shore;—and he borrowed a great deal of money which he did not repay.

The history of the King’s mistresses should hardly claim a place in the history of London. There are, however, one or two of these favourites who, in some way inexplicable, have captured the imagination of the people, and have won their sympathies. Why do we think more of Jane Shore than of Alice Perrers? Why, out of the long list of frail beauties about the court of Charles II., do we fix our eyes upon Nell Gwynne and neglect the rest? Certain it is that, not only in her own lifetime but also long afterwards, Jane Shore was remembered with kindliness and pity. Everybody knows her story: she was the wife of a London citizen, a goldsmith; she attracted the attention of the man who is commonly believed to have been the handsomest man in the country, as he was certainly the most dissolute. If, however, the portrait of Edward IV. in the possession of the Society of Antiquaries is to be trusted, his beauty did not lie in his face; it must have been his stature and his strength which gave him this reputation. When he died, Jane Shore, whose husband had cast her off, fell into the power of Hastings or of the Marquis of Dorset. When Hastings was beheaded, Richard endeavoured to convict her of witchcraft, probably he had some private reason for personal malice against Jane Shore. This attempt failing, he accused her of unchastity, which was not to be denied. She was taken to the Bishop’s Palace there clothed in a white sheet, a wax taper was placed in her hand, and she was led to the Cathedral beside the Palace, where she offered the taper, and to Paul’s Cross, where she made confession of her sins. One is glad to think that the poor creature had so short a distance to walk in this deplorable guise. Some, as Stow says, may think this woman “too slight a thing” to be written of: yet who can read the words of the grave Sir Thomas More, and still think so? And one cannot read the words of Stow himself without feeling that it was no common woman who could thus draw all hearts to her; who could leave behind her the memory of so many good deeds; who expiated a youth of such splendid sin by an old age of such terrible poverty and neglect.

Here are the words of Sir Thomas More:—

“Her stature was mean: her hair of a dark yellow, her face round and full, her eye grey, delicate harmony being betwixt each part’s proportion, and each proportion’s colour; her body fat, white, and smooth; her countenance cheerful, and like to her condition. That picture which I have seen of her, was such as she rose out of her bed in the morning, having nothing on but a rich mantle, cast under her arm, over her shoulder, and sitting in a chair on which her naked arm did lie. What her father’s name was, or where she was born, is not certainly known: but Shore, a young man of right goodly person, wealth, and behaviour, abandoned her bed, after the King had made her his concubine.”

And, next, hear Stow:—“This woman was borne in London, worshipfully friended, honestly brought up, and very well married, saving somewhat too soone, hir husband an honest citizen, yong and godly, and of good substance. But for as much as they were coupled ere they were wel ripe, she not very fervently loved, for whom she never longed, which was happily the thing that the more easily made hir incline unto the King’s appetite, when he required hir. Howbeit the respect of his royaltie, the hope of gay apparell, ease, pleasure, and other wanton wealth, was able soone to pierce a soft tender heart.

But when the King had abused hir, anone hir husband (as he was an honest man) left hir up to him altogether.

When the King died, the Lord Chamberlain tooke hyr, which in the King’s dayes, albeit he was sore enamoured upon hir, yet he forebare hir, eyther for reverence, or for a certain friendly faythfulnesse. Proper she was and fayre: nothing in hir bodie that you would have chaunged, but if you would have wished hir somewhat higher.

Thus say they that knewe hir in hir youth. Albeit some that nowe see hir (for yet she liveth) deeme hir never to have bene wel visaged, whose judgement seemeth me somewhat like as though men should gesse the beautie of one long before departed, by her scalpe taken out of the charnelhouse: so now is she olde, leane, withered, and dryed up, nothing left but riveled skin and hard bone. And yet being even such: who so wil advise her visage, might gesse and devise, which parts how filled would make it a faire face. Yet delited not men so much in her beautie, as in her pleasant behaviour. For a proper wit had she, and coulde both reade well and write, merrie in companye, readie and quicke of aunswere, neyther mute nor full of bable, sometime taunting without displeasure, and not without disporte.

The King would say that he had three concubines, which in their diverse properties diversly excelled. One the merriest, another the wyliest, the third the holyest harlot in his realme, as one whom no man could get out of the Church lightly to any place, but it were to his bed. The other two were somewhat greater personages, and nathelesse of their humility content to be namelesse, and to forbeare the praise of those properties. But the meriest was this Shors wife, in whom the King therefore took special pleasure. For many he had but hir he loved, whose favour to saye the truth (for sinne it were to belie the Devil) she never abused to any man’s hurt, but to manye a mannes comforte and relief: where the Kyng tooke displeasure, she would mitigate and appease his mynde: where men were out of favour she woulde brynge them in his grace. For manye that hadde highlye offended shee obtayned pardon. Of great forfeytures she gat men remission. And finally, in many weightie sutes she stoode many men in great steade, eyther for none or very small rewardes, and those rather gaye than riche: eyther for that she was content with the deed selfe well done, or for that shee delyted to bee sued unto, and to shewe what she was able to doe with the King, for what wanton women and wealthy be not always covetous.

I doubt not some shall thinke this woman too sleyghte a thing to be written of, and set among the remembrances of great matters: whych they shall specially thinke, that happilye shall esteem hir onely by that they nowe see hir. But me seemeth the chaunce so muche the more worthy to be remembered, in how much she is nowe in the most beggerlye condition, unfriended and worn out of acquaintance, after good substance, after as great favour with the Prince, after as greate sute and seekyng to with all those that those dayes had businesse to speede, as many other men were in theyr tymes, which be now famous only by the infamye of theyr yl dedes. Hir doings wer not much lesse albeit they be much lesse remembered because they were not so evil. For men use if they have an evill turne to write it in Marble; and who so doeth us a good turne, we write it in duste, whiche is not worst proved by hir: for at this day she beggeth of manye at thys daye lyving, that at this day had begged if she had not bin.”

“THE HIERARCHY OF THE SCIENCES,” AS CONCEIVED BY MEDIÆVAL THOUGHT
From the Berri Bible in British Museum. Harl. 1585.

It will be observed that Stow speaks of Jane Shore as living at the time he wrote. She was born about 1450; and she became mistress of Edward IV. about 1470; the King died in 1483, when she became the mistress of the first Marquis of Dorset for a short time. She was imprisoned in the Tower on a charge of sorcery, her goods were seized and sold, she did penance as above described, she was imprisoned in Ludgate, she fell into poverty and she lived to an advanced age, dying, it is supposed, about the year 1526, at the age of seventy-five or six. Seeing Stow was born in 1525 how can he speak of Jane Shore as living at the time he wrote? He is obviously quoting some older writer. Sir Thomas More, who was born in 1478, and died in 1535, was five years of age when Jane Shore did penance; he could hardly remember the event, even if he saw it. Nor could the unfortunate woman retain much of her early beauty when More was of an age to observe and to compare. At the same time he probably knew plenty of people who could remember the London beauty in her pride, and in the full flow of her generosity and wit and grace.

The funeral of Edward was celebrated with great splendour. The following account is taken from Archæologia, vol. i.:—

“But when that noble prince the good King Edward the iiiith was deceased, at Westminster in his paleys, which was the 5th day of April, the xxiii yer of his reign:

First, the corps was leyde upon a borde all naked, saving he was covered from the navell to the knees, and so lay openly X or XII hourez, that all the lordes both spirituell and temporell then beying in London or ner theraboute, and the meyer of London with his bredre sawe hym so lyng, and then he was sered etc. and was brought into the chapell on the morn after, when wer songen iii solemn massez: first of our Lady songe by the chapeleyn: and so was the second of the courte: the iiide masse of Requiem whiche was songen by the bishop of Chichester, and at afternoon ther was songen dirige and commendacion.

After that he had the hole psalter seid by the chapell, and at nyght well wecched with nobles and oder his servants, whose names ensuen like an apperethe in the watche rolle from the first nyght in tyme he was beryed. And at the masse of Requiem the lorde Dacre, the queen’s chambreleyn, offred for the quene, and the lordes temporell offred dayly at that seid masse, but the lordez spirituells offred not to the bishop but to the high auter, and oder the King’s servants offred also: this ordre was kept in the paleys viii dayez, savinge after the first daye ther was but on solemp masse, whiche alway was songen by a bishop: and on Wednysday the xvii day of the monyth, the corps was convenied into the abbey born by divers knyghts and esquires that wer for his body: having upon the corps a riche and a large blak cloth of gold with a crosse of white cloth of gold, and above that a riche canapye of cloth imperiall frenged with gold and blue silk. And at every corner a baner. And the Lord Howard ber the King’s baner next before the corps, having the officers of armez aboute them. Wher was ordeyned a worthy herse like as it apperteyneth, having before hym a grete procession. And in that herse, above the corps and the cloth of gold abovesaid, ther was a personage like to the similitude of the king in habite roiall, crowned with the verray crown on his hed. Holding in that one hande a sceptr, and in that other hand a balle of silver and gilte with a crosplate. And after that the lordes that wer within the herse, and the bisshoppez had offred, the meyer of London offred, and next after hym the chef juge and other juges and knyghts of the Kings hous with the barons of the eschequier and aldermen of London as they myght went to. And when the masse was don and all other solempnite, and that the lordes wer redy for to ryde: ther was ordeyned a roiall char covered with blak velvet, having about that a blak clothe of gold with a white cross of gold: under that a mageste clothe of blak sarsenet, drawen with vi coursers trapped with blac velvet with certeyn scochens betyn upon sarsenet betyn with fyne gold. Apon the fore hors and the third hors sate ii charet men. And on the iiii oder hors satte iiii henchemen. On either side the for seid draught went divers knyghts and esquiers for the body and other: some leying their handez to the draught and some leyding the hors unto tyme they passed the townes whose namez ensuen.

And the Lorde Haward, the Kings banerer, rode next before the forschorse bering the Kings baner upon a courser trapped with blak velvet with divers scochons of the Kings armez with his morenyng hudd on his hed. When the corps with the personage as above with procession of bishoppes in pontificalibz and the iiii ordrez of frerez was conveyed to the chare. And in ordre as above to Charingcrosse wher the bishops sensed the char, and the lordes toke their horse, and so proceded to Syon that nyght, where at the churche dore the bishoppes censed the corps, etc., the corps and the personage was born as before in the qure. And ther the bishop of Duresm did the service. And on the morn in like ordre as above he was conveyed to the chare, and from thens to Wyndesore.”

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[CHAPTER XIII]
RICHARD III

On the death of Edward IV., the Duke of Gloucester made haste to seize upon the Prince, his elder son, then a boy of thirteen, on his way from Ludlow Castle to Westminster.

RICHARD III. (1452-1485)
After the painting in Windsor Castle.

The City thereupon began to busy itself about the Coronation Festival. The civic procession was already organised (Sharpe, London and the Kingdom, i. 319). The City Fathers were to meet the young King who would come into the City: they were to be arrayed in gowns of scarlet, their attendants, including five sergeants at mace belonging to the Mayor and nineteen belonging to the Sheriffs, would have gowns of pied de lyon colour: the sword-bearer with four hundred and ten persons, forming a deputation from the guilds, were to have gowns of murrey. The riding out duly took place: the procession met the young King and the Duke of Gloucester at Hornsey and rode back with them to the Tower. That same day the Queen-mother with her younger son took sanctuary again at Westminster.

Gloucester took up his quarters at Crosby House or Hall, which still remains though greatly altered. The house was built by Sir Thomas Crosby, Grocer and Woolman, in the year 1466, on a piece of land belonging to St. Helen’s Nunnery, let to him by Alice Ashfield, Prioress, for ninety-nine years. Sir John Crosby cleared away the tenements which covered the spot, together with the poor people who lived in them, and built this palace, where he died in 1475. When the long lease expired there was no nunnery left to claim the ground.

Grove and Boulton.

NORTH-EAST VIEW OF CROSBY HALL and INTERIOR OF THE COUNCIL ROOM, CROSBY HALL

What follows belongs to the history of England. Yet it must be briefly narrated for the part taken in these events by the City. Gloucester began by executing without trial and without law Lord Hastings, the most powerful friend of the young King, on a trumped-up charge of conspiracy. He then called the Mayor and Aldermen to the Tower and gave them his version of the business. For himself the execution served his purposes: it removed an obstacle and it proclaimed his power. He next issued a proclamation as to the treason of Hastings, whom he connected with the notorious and unbridled incontinency of the late King. He then courted the City favour by bestowing honours on the City magistrates. London has always been open to flattery by royal distinctions. He made the Mayor a Privy Councillor. This drew to his side, one may suppose, not only the Mayor himself, but some of the Aldermen, with the Mayor’s brother, Dr. Shaw, a celebrated preacher. It was arranged that Shaw, who was to preach on the following Sunday at Paul’s Cross, should open the subject of the succession. The subject and the matter of the sermon were obviously agreed upon beforehand. The sermon is “reported” in More’s Life of Edward V. If his account of it be true then Shaw must have been one of the most brazen liars then living. His text was taken from the Book of Wisdom, and it showed at the outset what line the sermon would take. The words “Bastard slips shall take no deep root.” He said that the late King having promised marriage to the Lady Elizabeth Lucy before she would consent to her own dishonour, and having had a child by her, was already married to her—yet a Catholic Priest knew very well that there is no marriage except that which is celebrated by the Church: that his marriage with Elizabeth Woodville was therefore null and void, and that his children by Elizabeth were illegitimate. Therefore, of course, they could not succeed.

Next, neither the late King, nor his late brother, the Duke of Clarence, nor, consequently, the son of Clarence, had any right to the throne because, as was well known—the allegation may have had some slight foundation in scandals and gossip but could not be known to the citizens,—their mother, the late Duchess of York, was an adulteress, and these two Princes were the children of a certain person about the Duke of York’s Court. “But,” he cried, “in ancestry my Lord Protector, that noble Prince, the Pattern of all Virtuous and Heroic Actions, carried in his Air and in his Mien and in his Soul the perfect Image of his illustrious father the Great Duke of York.”

According to some Gloucester was to have appeared at this point as if by accident, but he did not come. Either he mistook the time, or he was hindered, or his mind misgave him, or news came to Baynard’s Castle, which was no more than five minutes’ distance, that the people were cold and quiet. If this account be true, the coup was missed. It is, however, stated by Fabyan that the Duke of Gloucester, accompanied by Buckingham and other Lords, was present during the sermon which branded his mother as an adulteress. One would willingly believe that Fabyan was wrong. In what follows, one hopes that he was right. For he tells us that Dr. Shaw never ceased to feel the agonies of remorse for this sermon, which helped to bring death upon two innocent boys, and that he died shortly afterwards. Next, the Mayor and Aldermen, the Common Council, and the principal citizens, were summoned to Guildhall to hear the Duke of Buckingham on affairs of State. The City was in silent surprise: most men knew, or feared, what was coming. The Princes in the Tower; sanctuary broken and by order of the Archbishop; Hastings executed; Shaw proclaiming the illegitimacy of the Princes and their father; what but one thing could these actions mean? The citizens assembled, however, in silence: and in silence they stood while Buckingham, in a long oration, endeavoured to bring them round to the point which he desired. If it be reported truly, or only in substance, as he delivered it, the speech must be accounted a remarkable effort. Unfortunately, it must be considered as apocryphal, as the speeches in history usually are. As it is reported, however, he attacked the morals of the King, his lewdness and incontinency, which was easy; he asked them to remember the many cruelties of his reign, which was also easy—but Edward was no more revengeful or bloodthirsty than his enemies; he recalled the bloodshed and slaughter through which he had climbed to the throne, the heavy taxes he had imposed—in which he compared favourably with his predecessors; he repeated the calumnies and statements of Dr. Shaw; he showed—which was the most moving argument of all—the miseries of having a child for King. “Vae Regno cujus Rex puer est!” What sufferings had the realm endured through the long minority of Henry VI.! Finally, he called upon them in impassioned terms to proclaim Richard, Duke of Gloucester, lawful King of England. No one replied: the citizens stood in cold silence. The Duke repeated part of his speech: they still remained impassive. The Mayor suggested that perhaps they resented an address from one who did not belong to them: they expected to hear the voice of their Recorder. The Duke therefore ordered their Recorder to speak to them, in accordance with City usage. The Recorder did so, repeating the Duke’s own words. Yet still the citizens remained silent. Buckingham thereupon told them that their voice was not wanted in the matter at all: the succession was already decided upon by the Lords. He had invited their voices as a compliment to the City. They might, however, answer Yea or Nay—would they have the Protector to reign over them? A few hats were thrown up with the cry, King Richard! King Richard! upon which the Duke declared that the citizens were unanimous, and retired. The day after, Richard, being then at Baynard’s Castle and not at Crosby House, as is generally supposed, received the Mayor and Aldermen, and, pretending it to be much against his wish, accepted the proffered crown.

In the dead silence, neither of approval nor of dissent, which greeted the Duke’s speech we may read anxiety, doubt, and even dismay. The history of Henry III., of Richard II., of Henry VI., all cried aloud the dangers that awaited a country whose King was a child. All the rivers of blood, the destruction of noble houses, the loss of France, the national humiliation, the waste of treasure, the ruin of trade, of the last sixty years were caused by the feebleness of a child King, and the dissensions of his guardians. Were all those troubles to be begun again? It would seem so. We have seen a similar hesitation with the Archbishops over the invasion of Sanctuary. Both Princes, if the younger should join his brother in the Tower, would be most certainly murdered; no one could doubt that; yet—yet—what were the lives of these two boys compared with the chance of bringing peace once more to this distracted country? I am, therefore, of opinion that the Archbishops consented to the removal of the younger boy and the violation of Sanctuary deliberately, and knowing full well beforehand that the children would be murdered: yet feeling that the evils of a long minority were far worse than the murder of two boys: and that a strong King sitting on the throne, however he got there, was above all things needed by the distracted and bleeding and impoverished country. In the same way I am of opinion that in the City the nomination of Richard was a thing agreed upon by the City—it certainly was agreed upon—deliberately and perhaps unanimously, perhaps also in heaviness of spirit—in order to prevent worse calamities.

After the defeat and death of Buckingham, Richard received a loyal welcome from the City, together with a petition in which the citizens boldly told him that they were resolved no longer to live in thraldom and bondage, “oppressed and injured by extortions and new impositions against the laws of God and man.” Richard received this protest graciously, and passed a statute acknowledging that the exaction of money under the name of a benevolence was unconstitutional. He also pleased the City by forbidding alien merchants to have alien apprentices. In 1484-85, when it was known that Henry Tudor would attempt an invasion, the City presented the King first with the sum of £2400 and afterwards with £2000. Thus assisted, Richard marched out of London and met his enemy at Bosworth Field.

With the death of Richard we may fitly close the history of Mediæval London. The City no longer stands in isolation surrounded by its grey old walls: on the East and North suburbs are rising outside the walls: along the roads stand inns and taverns and houses for half a mile beyond the gates: Westminster is joined to London by a mile of Palaces as well as by the river highway: the old danger that the City might become another Venice—a state in itself—is gone: the other danger, that it would be seized by any King and deprived of its liberties is also gone. London was the chief town of the kingdom: the centre of the Parliament: the centre of intellectual life. Its institutions were by this time fully grown and fully formed.

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[PART II]
SOCIAL AND GENERAL

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[CHAPTER I]
GENERAL VIEW

SKETCH MAP OF LONDON IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY

Let us go back to the fourteenth century; let us walk about London in the reign of Edward III., great Captain and glorious Sovereign. Before we enter the City we will first stand upon the wall and look out upon the country outside. The wall itself, of Roman origin so far as the foundation and the core, has been faced and refaced and repaired over and over again. It is provided still, however, as in Roman times, with round bastions about 250 feet apart. One of these bastions, much rebuilt, overlooks, beyond the ditch, the church and churchyard of St. Giles, Cripplegate; the towers, erected at irregular intervals, belong to a period after the Romans. The wall is twenty-two feet high; the height of the towers is forty feet.

The wall kept out the Danes in six successive sieges, it kept out Earl Godwin in 1052.

THE WHITE TOWER

The most important repairs which the wall has lately received are those of the Barons in 1215, who, after entering the City by Aldgate, breaking into the Jews’ houses, pillaging them of their valuables, and taking away all their money, used the stones of their houses for the repair of the gates and the wall. In the year 1257 Henry III. caused the wall to be again repaired and strengthened. In 1282 the south-west corner was shifted west in order to enclose the House of the Dominicans lately removed from their old house in Holborn. This new part of the wall rose along the bank of the Fleet. It was built, but very slowly, by the Corporation. Once more, in 1328, the walls were repaired, and again in 1386, when there was a scare about a French invasion, and the citizens in great haste repaired the wall and the gates and cleared out the ditch. The frequency of the repair seems to indicate bad and slovenly work. In 1477 the wall was strengthened in many places. After this, little or nothing seems to have been done for it.

The whole circuit of the wall is 2 miles and 605 feet. It is provided with battlements on the outside and a ledge or standing-place within, two or three feet wide, for the defenders. There may have been also some kind of rail for protection on the inside; the railing, however, sometimes found on old walls still existing, as at Chester, is modern; and we observe that the walls of York, Aigues Mortes, Avignon, and other places, are without any railing. Outside the wall lies the ditch, broad and deep, first constructed in the early part of the thirteenth century; the water is kept flowing by means of a culvert in the wall which leads it into the old bed of the Walbrook; it is renewed and kept fresh by certain small streams which fall into it from the Moorfields; it is full of fish, but since nothing can keep the people from throwing things into it, the water is always growing more shallow and the ditch always needs more dredging. The White Tower is built upon the original eastern end of the wall. Just north of the Tower on the east side is a postern of late date giving access to the riverside; and it serves as access to two religious houses, but there are no dwelling-houses there. St. Katherine’s by the Tower, one of the religious houses, stands on the bank of the river. It is quite a small foundation, but from the beginning it has been closely connected with the Queens of England. On the north of St. Katherine’s rises the stately Abbey of Grace, Graces, or Eastminster, not one of the most wealthy monasteries, but an important house, provided with very beautiful buildings (see vol. ii. pt. iii. ch. xxvi.). Between the ditch and the monastery is the open space called Little Tower Hill with its Stone Cross.

ST. KATHERINE’S BY THE TOWER
From Dugdale’s Monasticon.

The Town Ditch begins just south of Smithfield at the angle. There is no ditch along the west wall; probably there never was any, the Fleet River serving here for the moat. There is a Bridge over the ditch for the Grey Friars’ Postern, and another outside Aldersgate.

As we walk along the wall northwards, looking over the battlements, we see, running across the broad stretch of level ground, a roadway. It is not in the least like a modern road, or a Roman road; it is simply a wide grassy track broken up by feet of horses and by ruts! the latter are both broad and deep, for wheels are broad and carts are heavy. Trees stand here and there along the road; dotted about the fields are farm buildings, barns, and gardens. Presently, our view across the fields is blocked by the House of the Sorores Minores, the Sisters of St. Clare. You can see the nuns walking in their cloister garth; the buildings lying among their gardens and their orchards look strangely quiet and peaceful. As for the Sisters, they are reputed to be good and pious; the voice of scandal may be making free with the Mendicant Friars, and with the richly endowed monks; but no word or whisper of scandal has ever been uttered as regards these Franciscan Sisters. The farm beside their house, with the meadows, farm buildings, and farm-yard, rich with cows, sheep, swine, and fowls, belongs to the good Sisters, and is cultivated for them. It is one of the most ancient of the market gardens of London.

We arrive at the first of the City gates—Aldgate, otherwise spelt Algate or Alegate; but, according to Prof. Skeat, ald is Med. Eng. for old. It was not one of the Roman gates, because the Romans would not make a gate opening simply to the outside, and there was no Roman road connected with this part of the wall. It is, however, a sufficiently ancient gate. The gate is double, with two portcullises, but the drawbridge has become practically a permanent bridge; beside the gate is a hermitage. Such hermitages near gates and bridges are not uncommon. The hermit lives on the alms of the passers-by and promises his prayers in return. There are sometimes two or three hermits lodged together in one cell; their piety is occasionally doubtful; but concerning the piety of the Aldgate hermit have I heard nothing. It is not known when this gate was first constructed, certainly before the time of Fitz Stephen; probably after the arrival of the Conqueror. We may, if we please, ascribe its opening to Henry I., connecting it with the tradition which used to make his Queen the builder of Bow Bridge. In the neighbourhood of this gate, many years subsequently to the era we are considering, Roman coins were found sixteen feet deep.

Each of the City gates is granted to a Sergeant-at-Arms, who occupies the chambers over the gateway, and whose duty it is to keep watch at night, being assisted by a watchman (wayte) whom he keeps at his own expense. During the day each gate, according to the City regulations, is kept by two men well armed; sometimes the Bedel is directed to summon the men of the Ward to watch the gate armed, those absent finding substitutes at their own expense. This is done as a reminder of their duty. The City Gates, the Gate of London Bridge, and the City Posterns, are let to certain persons from time to time, for the profit, no doubt, arising from the farming of the tolls; Geoffrey Chaucer at this very time has taken a lease of that at Aldgate. The keepers of the City Gates are sworn, among other things, not to allow lepers to pass into the City.

Newgate and Ludgate have been prisons from time immemorial. All the chambers over all the gates are let on the condition that they may be taken over as prisons if they are wanted.

CHAUCER
From the Ellesmere MS.

On the north side, just outside the gate, stands one of the churches dedicated to St. Botolph, the saint who protected travellers. The first church built outside the wall must have been erected when times grew somewhat settled,—it would have been little use building up a church which at any time could be destroyed by marauders. Now as Botolph was a Saxon Saint this church must have been built after the Danes had become Christian, but before the Norman Conquest. In St. Botolph’s honour the old town of Icanhoe changed its name to Botolphstown, or Boston.

Beyond the church are certain inns for the convenience of travellers; among them the “Nuns” Inn. By this way come all the travellers and the waggons out of Essex, the garden of England. In the broad courtyard of the inns stand for safety the covered waggons laden and piled high, to be driven to market in the morning. About a hundred yards beyond the gate stands Aldgate Bar, corresponding to the later turnpike. There are other bars which mark the bounds of the City liberties, but the distance from each gate is not always the same. Temple Bar, for instance, is a long way beyond Ludgate; Aldersgate Bar is near the north end of Aldersgate Street; Bishopsgate Bar is near the Prior’s Almshouse, Norton Folgate. Along the broad grassy track beyond Aldgate Bar stands a small white chapel, that of St. Mary Matfelon, and there are already a few houses, but not many. Beyond Aldgate and before Bishopsgate the wall runs in a northwesterly direction; on the opposite bank of the ditch there are certain small tenements. At this point the ditch is called Houndsditch, because, it is said, “dead dogs are thrown in here.” But dead dogs are thrown into other ditches as well. People do not carry a dead dog to this part of the wall in order to throw it into the ditch, so that this derivation does not ring true. Houndsditch was probably so named from the kennels standing on the north side—“dog-houses” they are called by the people. The breeding of dogs for the hunt is a very important branch of trade; it can only be carried on in the open country outside the wall of the City. A low wall has been erected on the north side of the ditch to prevent the shooting of rubbish into it, but, apparently, without effect. Beyond the wall the broad stretch of fields belongs to the Priory of the Holy Trinity.

The next gate is Bishopsgate, the most stately of all the London gates. The Bishop after whom it is named is Bishop Erkenwald (cons. 675, d. 693), perhaps because he rebuilt or repaired its predecessor. Not exactly on this spot, but very near to this spot, on the east, stood the Roman gate of which these are the successors. The foundations of this original gate have been found in Camomile Street. There is a row of Almshouses at Bishopsgate Bars for poor bedridden folk, who are provided with a roof at least, while they beg their bread of passers-by.

If we remember that Newgate was also rebuilt some distance south of its original position, we shall find strong confirmation of the theory that London was for a while a deserted City. For it is impossible that the occupation of a City should be continuous if the old position of the gates is forgotten. Nor is it only the site of the gates itself which is concerned; the change of position of a gate means the destruction and the obliteration of the old streets in the City which led to it; also of the roads outside which led to it: it means total oblivion of the former position of houses and streets. All this is meant by the transference of a gate. As for the date of the transference, we have the tradition which makes the good Bishop Erkenwald the builder; we have, close by the gate, the Church of St. Ethelburga, who was the Bishop’s friend. On the other hand, Alfred found the wall in a ruinous condition and strengthened it. Perhaps it was he who built the gate. The actual gate before which we are now, in imagination, standing, was erected in 1210, and succeeded that built by either Alfred or Erkenwald. The two stone images of Bishops on the south side of this represent St. Erkenwald and William the Norman; the other two images are those of Alfred and his son-in-law Ethelred, Earl of Mercia.

Outside this gate we observe a second church dedicated to St. Botolph, and opposite the church one of the great inns which are found outside every City gate. This is the “Dolphin.” The broad road outside leads past the poverty-stricken House of St. Mary of Bethlehem, now reduced to two or three Brethren, through an almost continuous line of houses as far as the noble and beneficent foundation of St. Mary Spital, whither the sick folk of London are brought by hundreds to lie in the sweet fresh country air outside the foul smells of the City. The road leads also to Holywell Nunnery on the west, and as far as the little church of St. Leonard Shoreditch, lying among the gardens and the orchards. At the east end of the road is a great field, “Teazle Field,” where they used to cultivate teazles for the clothmakers: at the time we are considering it is the place where the crossbow-men shoot for prizes. In Lollesworth Field, behind St. Mary Spital, there was formerly a Roman cemetery: many evidences of the fact have been found.

Leaving Bishopsgate and walking along the straight line of wall running nearly east and west we look out upon the open moor. It is dotted by ponds and intersected by sluggish streams and ditches; there are kennels belonging to the City Hunt and to rich citizens, and all day long you can hear the barking of dogs. There is a stretch of moorland, waste and uncultivated, covered with rank grass and weeds and reeds and flowers of the marsh, which is an area of irregular shape, roughly speaking, 400 yards from east to west by 300 yards from north to south. Any buildings erected here must stand upon piles driven into the London Clay. There is talk about the construction of a postern opening upon the moor and of causeways across the moor. These would be of great convenience to people wishing to go across to Iselden, or upon pilgrimage to Our Lady of Muswell Hill or Willesden. There is already a causeway leading from Bishopsgate Street without to Fensbury Court, where there was a quadrangular house with a garden and a pond belonging to the Mayor; and here are the kennels for the “Common Hunt.” Houses now become thicker outside the wall; and when we reach Cripplegate we find there is a considerable suburb, with a church called after St. Giles. It was built two hundred years ago in the reign of Henry I., so that, as far back as the twelfth century, there was at least the beginning of a suburb at this place.

As to the first building of Cripplegate there has been a good deal of conjecture. Since the church was founded about the year 1090, it is certain that there must have been, even then, a postern at least for communication between the City and this suburb. And since the name Cripplegate has nothing to do with any cripples but means small—“crepul”—gate, the name seems to point to existence of a postern at first. The gate, whoever built it originally, has been already rebuilt; once in 1244 by the Brewers—perhaps they changed it from a postern to a gate—who also constructed rooms above, which serve for the imprisonment of debtors. You may see one at the barred window, holding a string with a cup at the end of it, for the charity of pitiful persons. Put in it a penny for the poor debtors. I think, from the appearance of the gate, that it will have to be repaired again before long.

Here the wall bends suddenly to the south by west, running in that direction for 850 feet. Then it turns sharply to the west and after a little to the south again. Why did it take this sudden bend? There has never been anything in the nature of the ground to necessitate any such turn: there is neither stream, nor lake, nor rock, nor hill, in the way. Outside the wall, when it was first put up, there was moorland at this spot as all along the north, yet there must have been some reason. I have already ventured to offer a suggestion, which I repeat in this place, that this is the site of the Roman amphitheatre.

Just beyond the turn of the wall we come to Aldersgate. There appears to be no tradition concerning the date of this gate. It was one of the first four gates of the City; and it has been enlarged by the addition of a great framework house on the south side, and another on the east side, the latter of which is remarkable for the possession of a very deep well within its walls. Outside the gate is yet another church of St. Botolph. Beyond the church you may observe the modest buildings of a Fraternity. It is an Alien House called the Brotherhood of St. Fabian and St. Sebastian. Beyond the House of this Brotherhood are two or three great houses belonging to nobles. The cluster of religious houses in this neighbourhood may account for the number of houses which very early began to grow up around them. Under the wall is the Hospital of St. Bartholomew; beyond the Hospital is the Priory; beyond the Priory is the House of the Carthusian Friars; and on the west of these are the houses of the Knights Hospitallers and the Clerkenwell Nuns. Standing on the wall we command an excellent view of these buildings: grouped about in picturesque beauty, they stand among trees and gardens; beyond them, close to the City wall, lies the level plain of Smithfield with its trees and ponds, with its Horse Fair and its Cloth Fair, with its race-course and its gibbet, the place of amusements, the place of executions, the place of ordeal.

Beyond Aldersgate the wall runs west for a little, when it turns south again and passes Newgate. This is a goodly and a strong gate, and beside it stands the prison of which, at another time, we will speak at length. As we have said, Newgate, like Bishopsgate, was not built upon the site of the Roman Gate but near it. This is the traditional history of the gate:—

“This gate was first erected about the reign of Henry the First or of King Stephen, upon this occasion. The Cathedral Church of St. Paul, being burnt about the year 1086 in the reign of William the Conqueror, Mauritius, then Bishop of London, repaired not the old church, as some have supposed, but began the foundation of a new work, such as men then judged would never have been performed: it was to them so wonderful for heighth, length, and breadth, as also in respect it was raised upon arches or vaults, a kind of workmanship brought in by the Normans, and never known to the artificers of this land before that time. After Mauritius, Richard Beaumore did wonderfully advance the work of the said church, purchasing the large streets and lanes round about, wherein were wont to dwell many lay-people, which grounds he began to compass about with a strong wall of stone and gates. By means of this increase of the church territory, but more by enclosing of ground for so large a cœmitery or churchyard, the high and large street stretching from Aldgate in the east to Ludgate in the west, was in this place so crossed and stopped up, that the carriage through the city westward was forced to pass without the said churchyard wall on the north side, through Paternoster row; and then south, down Ave Marie lane; and again west, through Bowyer row to Ludgate; or else out of Cheap, or Watheling Street to turn south through the old Change; then west through Carter lane, again north up Creed lane and then west to Ludgate. Which passage, by reason of so much turning, was very cumbersome and dangerous both for horse and man. For remedy whereof a new gate was made, and so called, by which men and cattle, with all manner of carriages, might pass more directly (as before) from Aldgate, through west Cheap by St. Paul’s, on the north side: through St. Nicholas Shambles and Newgate market to Newgate, and from thence to any part westward over Holborn bridge, or turning without the gate into Smithfield, and through Iseldon to any part north and by west. This gate hath of long time been a gaol or prison for felons and trespassers, as appeareth by records in the reign of King John and of other kings; amongst the which I find one testifying, that in the year 1218, the 3rd of King Henry the Third, the King writeth unto the Sheriffs of London, commanding them to repair the gaol of Newgate for the safe keeping of his prisoners, promising that the charges laid out should be allowed unto them upon their accompt in the Exchequer.”

Continuing our walk we overlook the Fleet River, which is much choked with filth and rubbish, especially from things thrown into it from the Fleet prison, whose walls it washes and whose refuse it receives. Perhaps after heavy rains it becomes a cleaner stream. Over against it rises the steep slope of Holborn crowned with its ancient church of St. Andrew. The broad road on which it stands is the military road, which branched off from the Roman road, when London Bridge was built. Formerly, and long after the building of the Bridge, the highway between the north and the south ran across the marshes round Westminster, and over Thorney Island itself.

Ludgate—perhaps, we do not know—was built as a postern before the Conquest. It was rebuilt or strongly repaired, in the year 1215, by the Barons when they entered the City and pillaged the Jews, as already mentioned. Ludgate is now—in this fourteenth century—also a prison concerning which more will be said hereafter.

The wall of London at first passed in a direction due south to the river from this gate, which was on the hill just without the Church of St. Martin. Between the wall and the Fleet was a small piece of wet and undesirable ground on which the Dominicans were permitted to settle; it was their precinct, outside the jurisdiction of the City. Presently the Friars were allowed to pull down the City walls beside them. This was in 1276. The King ordered the City to apply some of the murage dues to building a new wall on the banks of the Fleet, so as to include the House of the Dominicans. Three years later the order was renewed, yet the wall remained unfinished. The lack of zeal probably meant a growing disbelief in the importance of the wall, especially that part of it which overlooked the muddy banks and the mouth of the Fleet. The wall, however, was finished in due course.

We have now completed our circuit of the City wall and have seen what was in the immediate neighbourhood of London. Farmhouses and pasture lands in the direction of Stepney and Mile End; beyond them, which we could not see, the low-lying lands and marshes of the river Lea. North of Bishopsgate is a line of houses, three or four stately monasteries, and inns for travellers; north of Moorgate a vast marsh crossed by causeways, given over chiefly to kennels; beyond the moor, the pleasant village of Iselden. At Cripplegate, a suburb populous but composed entirely of craftsmen; outside Aldersgate, stately monasteries, a noble hospital for the sick, a tract of ground, flat, dotted with ponds, with some small clusters of trees upon it, decorated by a gibbet on which hang always the mouldering remains of some poor dead wretches, a gallows-tree on which half a dozen can be comfortably hanged at once. This place is also the site of a great cloth fair held once a year, of a horse fair once a week; and a part is given over to the Jews for their burial-place. On the west, looking out from Ludgate, there is the slope to the Fleet River, with its bridge; the street beyond with its one or two great houses and its shops and taverns beginning to spring up; beyond this street there is the rising slope of the Strand, with its glittering streamlets. And standing on the southern tower of the wall we can look across the river, and see on the other side, the immense marsh that extends from Redriff to Battersea, and the gentle rise of the Surrey Hills beyond. Along that southern marsh there are few houses as yet. Southwark is little more than a High Street. There are one or two houses belonging to Bishop, Abbot, and noble; there are the infamous houses on Bankside; there is the Archbishop’s Palace at Lambeth, but on this side there is little more.

Let us now leave the wall and begin to walk about the streets of the City—we are still, it must be remembered, in the fourteenth century. The first and most distinctive feature of every mediæval city, as compared with its modern successor, is the number of its churches and of its monastic foundations. The latter, it is true, are situated outside the very heart of the City—thus, there are no convents in Thames Street. The Dominicans, as we have seen, were at first outside the wall: one religious foundation there was in Cheapside itself, but that was due to the birthplace of a saint; all the rest were placed near the wall, either within or without, one reason being that they were founded late when the inner part of the City was already filled up, and another, that they were founded, for the most part, with slender endowments, so that they were compelled to get land where it was cheapest. But the churches stand in every street; one cannot escape the presence of a church; and the minute size of the parishes proves, among other things, the former density of the population. Take, for instance, that part of Thames Street which extends from St. Peter’s Hill to Little College Street. That is a length of 1600 feet by a breadth averaging 400 feet. This area, which is divided along the upper part by Thames Street, consists almost entirely of warehouses, wharves, and narrow lanes leading to the river stairs; the south of it consists of that curious little collection of inhabited streets, the whole of which was reclaimed from the foreshore; there are a tangle of narrow lanes and noisome courts lying among and between the wharves, which lanes and courts are always foul and stinking, inhabited by the people belonging to the service of the Port. There are actually five parishes in that little district. The first of them, St. Peter’s, contains not quite two acres; the second, St. Mary Somerset, about four acres; the third, St. Michael’s, Queenhithe, about two acres and a half; the fourth, St. James, Garlickhithe, the same; and the fifth, St. Martin Vintry, about three acres and three-quarters. Five parishes in this little slip of land! But if we take the whole slip of land, which we call the riverside—an area of a mile in length by about 400 feet in width, we find that there are no fewer than eighteen parishes in it. All the churches now within the City, together with those which must have been burned or destroyed, are standing in the century we are considering. So frequent are the churches, so scanty the dimensions of the parish, that the most remarkable feature in the architecture and appearance of the City is the church which one sees in every street and from every point of view. These churches have been already rebuilt over and over again. At first they were small wooden structures, like that at Greenstead, Chipping Ongar, with their walls composed of trunks cut in half and placed side by side. A few were of stone, for the name of St. Mary Staining commemorates such a church. After the Conquest a rage for building set in, builders and masons came over from the Continent in numbers, and the period of Norman architecture began. Still, however, the parish churches continued to be small and dark. But the City grew richer: the nobles who lived in the City and the merchants began to rebuild, to decorate, and to beautify their churches: they pulled down the old churches, they built them up again larger and lighter, in Early English first and next in Decorated Style. Small the City churches continued and remained, but to some of them were added gateways and arches. Adorned as they were by the pious care of the citizens, for generation after generation, by this fifteenth century they had become beautiful. The citizens had filled the windows with painted glass, they had covered the bare walls with paintings, they had erected tombs for themselves with fine carved work and figures in marble and alabaster, they had covered the carved font with a carved tabernacle, they had glorified the roof with gold and azure, they had given the chancel carved seats, they had adorned the altars, they had given organs, they had endowed the church with singing men and boys, and they had bestowed upon it such collections of plate, furniture, rich robes, candlesticks, and altar cloths, as makes one wonder where the Church found room to stow everything. Everybody knows the Treasury of Notre Dame, of St. Denys, of Aix-la-Chapelle. The cupboards are crammed with ecclesiastical gear and relics and reliquaries. We must realise that the same thing, on a smaller scale, is to be seen, in the fourteenth century, in every parish church of London. We look into church after church. There are treasures in every one, treasures that the priests and the sacristans bring out with pride. And the monuments over the graves of City worthies bring out very strongly, as we stand in the churches and read the names, the fact that the members of the great distributing Companies, largely, if not entirely, belong to families of gentle birth: upon this fact there will be more to say in another place. Another point is that there are few monuments older than this—the fourteenth-century. Thus, taking half a dozen of the churches as we walk about the streets, we find that a monument of the thirteenth century occurs in one or two cases only. What does this mean? That the monuments of all the merchants who died in London and are buried in the City churches have been removed or wantonly destroyed? I think not. It has another meaning. The erection of monuments to the dead belongs to a very primitive stage of civilisation, and it is also found in an advanced stage; in times of continual uncertainty and warfare it does not always exist: nor does the craftsman or the rustic desire a post-mortem memory. The citizens of London before this time have not generally nourished the desire of posthumous honour. They left money for masses, or to beautify the church; or they founded doles for the Mind Day, but not for the erection of a monument. This desire seems to belong to a time when the conditions of life have been smoothed and some of the old miseries have abated. Not that the dangers of fire, famine, or pestilence ever weigh heavily upon the minds of a people actively engaged; or that they are bowed down by the consciousness that war, with a painful death on the field, is always a possibility for them; or that they find life intolerable by reason of its diseases, its chances, its changes, or its brevity. But it is quite certain that they do realise so vividly the world to come, that in all their transactions it is acknowledged in words, if not really felt, to be of far greater importance than the world in which they live. Since, after a time of Purgatory, one is going for ever to sit among the Saints, what matters it whether one’s name is preserved or not? When many of the old dangers are abated; when fortune is more stable; when wealth accumulates; when the growth of the City brings dignity, honour, and authority to the citizens,—then it may become natural for the people to erect monuments in memory of the men whose personality in life has been large and full of dignity; and then every man will begin to desire such a monument in memory of those surprising achievements of which he alone is conscious. Every family will begin to desire such a commemoration, if only to swell the family pride, and to make the church itself proclaim the glory of the line. But in the thirteenth century these aspirations were rare. Henry of London Stone, first Mayor and Mayor for five-and-twenty years, was one of those thus honoured.

Let us exchange generalities for a single example.

We are standing at the entrance of a narrow lane leading north from Thames Street. It is the street called Fish Street Hill or Labour in Vain Hill. On the south-east corner stands the very ancient church of St. Mary Somerset. It is placed a little back from Thames Street with part of its churchyard on the south side: it is a large and handsome church; the churchyard is planted with trees and the graves are mounds of grass. We enter the street, which presents a steep incline: down the middle runs a tiny stream, for there has been rain; offal, bones, grease, fish-heads, dirty water, refuse of all kinds float down this stream, which, after a heavy shower, keeps the street comparatively clean and wholesome. There are, however, fortunately, other scavengers besides the rain; they swoop down out of the sky, they alight in the street, they tear the offal with their beaks and claws, they carry it up to the house-tops; these are the kites and crows, who build their nests on the church towers and roofs, and find their food in the refuse thrown out into the streets. Were it not for these birds, London streets would be intolerable.

It is a morning in May: along the street on either side are houses; here is a rich merchant’s house standing behind its wall, and beside it is a little tenement occupied by a craftsman. Looking up the street one can see green trees here and there, from those of St. Mary Somerset on the south to those of St. Nicholas Cole Abbey on the north. Half-way up we come upon a low wall; looking over it we see a churchyard shaded by trees and covered with graves, the grass growing long and rank; on the west side of the churchyard stands the church—it is a very small church called St. Mary Mounthaw, one of the latest of the City churches, and built originally as a chapel for a private family. Its name shows that the parish was a slice of St. Mary Somerset, just as St. Katherine Coleman was carved out of St. Katherine Cree, and All Hallows the Less out of All Hallows the Great. The door is open—if we look in we see a few women kneeling; there is the murmur of a chantry priest, for it is morning, singing his daily mass; the church is Early English, the roof is high, with beams crossing and recrossing, they are painted red and gold; springing out from the side of the church are angels with outspread wings; high up in the roof itself above the beams is a sky all blue with silver stars. The walls of the church are decorated with bright-coloured paintings from the life of the Blessed Virgin and her Son; the windows are richly painted; the altar is covered with candlesticks, crosses and furniture in white silk, gold, silver, and latoun. There are two noble monuments, each with its effigy and its chapel of white marble: one effigy wears a Bishop’s mitre; another is the image of an Alderman, who was a benefactor to the church. Dozens of candles stuck on iron sticks are burning, with a few great wax tapers paid for by a bequest; at the door sit two old women, beggars. On the north side of the church, and outside it, is a projecting structure half underground. This is the anchorite’s cell (see vol. ii. pt. ii. ch. v.): on the level of the ground is a small aperture protected by a rusty iron grating without glass and without shutter; by this window everything must be handed in to the occupant. If we look through the bars, we see that within there reigns a dim and terrible twilight, for no gleam of sunshine can penetrate this cold and gloomy den, and even on this bright and sunny morning the air is cold and damp like the air of a crypt. On the other side is a narrow slit in the wall, like the leper’s squint, through which the anchorite can witness the Elevation of the Host; at the end of the cell a raised stone serves for an altar, a crucifix stands upon it, and before it the anchorite spends most of his time day and night, praying. The present occupant has been built up into this cell for many years; he subsists on what is brought him. There is never any fear of his being starved or forgotten: he is well provided for, and the people offer him dainties which he will not touch, for he lives on bread and water: sick or well, he will never leave this cell till they find him lying dead on the floor and carry him out. And when the cell is empty there will be no difficulty in finding a successor to occupy his place and fulfil the same dreary austere life.

Let us leave the church and pass on. The street is very narrow, but not so narrow as some. The houses, which are for the most part two and three stories high, are gabled, and the windows are glazed: many of them, such as those on Labour in Vain Hill, do not contain shops but are what we should call private houses, some are let for lodgings to those who come to town on business; and when the lodger is an armiger or a noble, he hangs his scutcheon out of the window, or fixes it on the wall above the door. Thus, Chaucer’s attention, you will remember—see that famous lawsuit tried but the other day, Scrope v. Grosvenor—was first called to the doubtful heraldry on the Grosvenor shield by seeing the scutcheon hanging out of the window in Friday Street. The houses are not in line, but are placed as the builders choose, fronting in various directions and abutting at different depths on the street. Here is a narrow court leading out of the street, it is so narrow that a man standing in the middle can easily touch each side. It contains about a dozen small tenements inhabited by craftsmen, who are all at work in the ground-floor rooms, which are at once workshop, kitchen, and sleeping-room. All about, in the air, one hears the continual noise of work, the sound of hammering, sawing, grating, the ringing of the anvil, the voices of women who quarrel and scold. Now and then rises, all in a moment, without warning, a sudden brawl between two of the working men, at once knives are drawn and in a moment the thing is over, but it leaves a little pool of blood in the middle of the street, and a woman binds up a bleeding arm. We have seen enough of the court. Come back into the street. Here is a gateway and over it a gatehouse, but without battlements or portcullis. Two or three men-at-arms are hanging about the gate, and within is a broad square court in which boys, pages practising tilting, are riding about. There are buildings on all four sides; one of these is a stately hall with a lofty roof and lantern, and the others are noble buildings. This is the town house of a great Baron, who rides with a following of three hundred gentlemen and men-at-arms, and owns manors broad, rich, and numerous. He maintains five hundred people, at least, in his service. Next, there is another gateway and another court with another hall, but not so great. This is the town house of the Bishop of Hereford. There is no tilting or riding in his court: it is, on the other hand, turned into a garden with roses and lilies blossoming in the flower-beds, a fountain sparkling in the sunshine and splashing musically. There is a south aspect, and vines are trained upon the wall; there is a sun-dial, and some seats are placed upon the grass. As for the house, the windows and porches are full of beautiful carved woodwork and shields are carved on the walls. Below the windows are figures in bas-relief representing all the virtues, and the great window of the hall is of painted glass with the family arms of the Bishop, a man of no mean descent, in the centre. Near the Bishop’s house, and like unto it in appearance, but of lesser splendour, is the house of a great merchant, as great men went in the fourteenth century. We will presently enter one of these houses and see how they are furnished. And among the great houses standing side by side, rich and poor together, as it should be, are tenements of the craftsmen, such as we have seen in the narrow court which we have just now passed. In the street itself, dabbling in the water barefooted, are the children, rosy-cheeked, fair-haired, playing, running, and shouting, as they do to this day, and always have done since the beginning of the City.

Shall we next enter the City at Ludgate and walk about its streets from there? Ludgate is half-way up the hill that rises above the valley of the Fleet; passing through it we stand before the west front of St. Paul’s. The noble church must be reserved for another occasion. We walk through the churchyard, and so by the north-east gate of the Precinct find ourselves in Chepe.

This is the greatest market of the City. Hither come the craftsmen, for to each craft is assigned its own place in the market. Not only do the trades work together, but they sell their wares together, so that there is no underselling, and everything is offered at a fixed price.

There is a great deal to be said for this custom. It is convenient for the apprentice to live and work in the atmosphere, so to speak, of his own trade, and to see all day long his own industry. It is also convenient for men of the same craft to work together, first, because solitary labour is bad for a man, next, because hours of labour can only be enforced when men work in companies, third, because bad work cannot be successfully palmed off as good where all work is in common, and, last, if any other reason were wanted, because in some trades tools are costly, and by this method can be held and used in common. Out of this working in common spring the fraternities and guilds and, in fulness of time, the companies. There also grows up, what would never have arisen out of solitary labour, the pride and dignity of trade. The dignity of trade will be greatly increased when the City Companies become rich and strong, and when each fraternity can carry on occasions of state its own banners and insignia, and can wear its own distinctive dress.

There were changes in the quarters of trade from time to time owing to causes which we can only guess.

“Men of trades and sellers of wares in this City have oftentimes since changed their places, as they have found their best advantage. For whereas mercers and haberdashers used wholly then to keep their shops in West Cheap; of later time they held them on London Bridge, where partly they do yet remain. The Goldsmiths of Gutheron’s Lane and the Old Exchange are now, for the most part, removed into the south side of West Cheap. The pepperers and grocers of Soper’s Lane are now in Bucklersbury, and other places dispersed. The drapers of Lombard Street and of Cornhill are seated in Candlewick Street and Watheling Street. The skinners from St. Marie Pellipers, or at the Axe, into Budge Row and Walbrook. The stockfish-mongers in Thames Street. Wet-fish-mongers in Knightriders Street and Bridge Street. The ironmongers of Ironmongers’ Lane and Old Jury into Thames Street. The vintners from the Vinetree into divers places. But the brewers for the most part remain near to the friendly water of Thames. The butchers in East Cheap, St. Nicholas Shambles, and the Stockes market. The hosiers, of old time, in Hosier Lane, near unto Smithfield, are since removed into Cordwainer Street, the upper part thereof, by Bow Church, and last of all into Birchovers Lane by Cornhill. The shoemakers and curriers of Cordwainer Street removed, the one to St. Martin’s le Grand, the other to London wall near to Moorgate. The founders remain by themselves in Lothbury. The cooks or pastelars, for the more part, in Thames Street; the other dispersed into divers parts. The poulters of late removed out of the Poultry, betwixt the Stockes and the Great Conduit in Cheap, into Grass Street and St. Nicholas Shambles. Bowyers from Bowyers’ Row by Ludgate into divers parts; and almost worn out with the fletchers. The paternoster bead-makers and text-writers are gone out of Paternoster Row, and are called stationers of Paul’s Churchyard. The patten-makers, of St. Margaret Pattens Lane, are clean worn out. Labourers every work-day are to be found in Cheap, about Soper’s Lane end. Horse-coursers and sellers of oxen, sheep, swine, and such like, remain in their old market of Smithfield.”

THE OLD FOUNTAIN IN THE MINORIES, BUILT ABOUT 1480, DEMOLISHED 1793
From an old print.

West Chepe is a broad place covered with movable stalls arranged in prescribed order; and this arrangement marks out the streets. On the north and south are large “selds,” which are warehouses and shops in which the servants have their sleeping-rooms, but there is, as yet, very little order or regularity observed in the erection of the seld. Already many of the stalls, especially on the south side, are shops with houses above them. In the midst of Chepe is the Standard, as important a part of the City as Paul’s Cross, for it is the old Town Cross, the Cross that marks the centre of the City, and round the Standard are stalls for fish and vegetables; there are also “stations” for the sale of small things. There are other associations connected with the Standard—it has been used for execution. In the time of the present King’s grandfather, Edward, first of the name, were some who had their right hands struck off for rescuing a prisoner: only the other day we saw two fishmongers beheaded here. Not far from the Standard is Queen Eleanor’s Cross, which is opposite Wood Street.

The “Frame” houses are beginning to be built on the south side of Chepe. They are not, like the palaces of the wealthy merchants and the nobles, built round a court, but are simply developments of the ordinary citizen’s house, decorated and better built. The “frame” is of strong and thick oak, folded in with plaster, and the front, carried up to three or four stories, is covered with carved woodwork; here are shields and the arms of the trade to which the owner belongs, here are effigies and carvings of men and creatures, here are bright paintings in red and blue and gold. We have passed through Chepe and are in the Poultry.

This large house, with its solid gate and its spacious court, is the residence of the Lord Mayor for the year. Observe that the posts outside his gates are gilded, a pretty decoration for the street. Yet it is not in pride that the Chief Magistrate of the City sets up two pillars of gold before his house, it is the City custom thus to mark the house of Mayor, Alderman, or Sheriff. The posts may be painted or they may be gilt. When Proclamations of the King are read they are set up on these posts, and they who read them do so bareheaded, to show their respect for King and Mayor.

Let us not forget to notice the “Room-lands” of which there were many, though now they are greatly reduced in number and in space. There was the broad space round St. Paul’s Cathedral, the place where the Folk Mote assembled. This area was in course of time partly covered with buildings, and with graves and receptacles for bones: another vacant area was that at the north-west corner of the City Wall, where the Franciscans built their House: West Chepe was a Room-land: East Chepe was another: and there were broad spaces designedly left unbuilt upon at Billingsgate, Queenhithe, and Dowgate. The Coal Exchange stands upon the site of the Billingsgate Room-land.

The changes that crept over London during the centuries we are considering were so slow and so imperceptible that the ordinary observer must have thought the world was standing still. Always there had been the Church with its services, always the Friar in the street, always the market and the selds: he did not know, because he had no power of judging, that the City was growing richer, that the standard of comfort had risen immensely, that life was not so rude as it had been, that, perhaps, there was less violence. As much uncertainty there always was, for in the midst of life we are in death, and there were many terrors—the pestilence that stalked the streets, invisible, by day and by night, fire, famine, and war. The population of the City did not increase so fast as its wealth; there were more stately houses, more carved work, more gold and silver cups, finer tapestry, finer weapons, but the world, in the eyes of the ordinary citizen, stood still: as things had been, so they were still, so they would be till the end of all things; there was no hope, no thought of a larger and nobler humanity, all his hope lay beyond the world. Let us remember this fact, because it explains a great deal of mediæval history.

West Chepe was the heart of the City: but it was not the Exchange. There was no Exchange. The merchants met in the most convenient place, that is to say, for foreign trade, in Thames Street. They had their houses for the most part in the sloping streets north of Thames Street; here they received the foreign merchants. The lesser sort transacted business at the tavern.

As we continue our walk we discover that there are three or four principal streets in the City. The apparent labyrinth is pierced by parallel thoroughfares and by others at right angles, so that one need not be lost in the winding lanes. The most important is the street—if we may call that a continuous street which is interrupted at so many places—which enters at Newgate. It is here called Flesh-shambles or Newgate Street, but it is interrupted at Blowbladder Street, and it becomes Chepe; it is interrupted by the Poultry, and it goes along Cornhill and Leadenhall Street, and so out at Aldgate. It is crossed by Grasschurch Street and Bishopsgate Street and by a great number of narrow streets. Other streets of less importance are Candlewick Street, East Chepe, Tower Street, Walbrook, Lombard Street, Fenchurch Street, Watling Street, Knightrider Street, besides a great number of narrow lanes, themselves intersected by courts and alleys. Remark, however, that as yet every house of any importance has its garden. The citizen of London clings to his garden, however small it is.

One thinks that, with streets and lanes so narrow, where there is no system of sewage, and everything is thrown into the street, the filth and general uncleanness must have been intolerable. Look around: we are in the midst of narrow lanes, but where is the intolerable filth? Let us consider. There is a great deal of rain which washes the street continually, and these lanes mostly stand on a slope; there is a service, not very effective, but still of some use, carried on by the “rakers,” who pick up things and take them to lay-stalls; there are the scavenger birds of which we have spoken; and, the most important point of any, there is public opinion. All the people have to use these lanes to go up and down about their daily business; the children play in them; the housewives go to early mass and to market; the great lady who, with her maids, lives in the house behind the gates before you has to use this lane. Think you that these people will consent to have their ways defiled and made impassable? Not so. Therefore the streets are kept tolerably clean. I say not, that in August, after a month or two of hot weather, they are so sweet and fresh as they should be. But one will find more inconvenience from the people than from the streets. What can one expect? Most of them have but one suit of clothes which they wear all the year round. But seen in this way, by walking from one narrow lane into another, where all the streets are narrow except Cheapside, one cannot get a just idea of the size and the splendour of the ancient City. Let us therefore, since the tide is flowing, take boat at the Iron Gate Stairs between the Tower and St. Katherine’s. This is the end of the town, a gathering of houses round the venerable church and college, a river embankment, ruinous in places, and a low-lying marsh beyond, this is all that one can see of the east of London. Marshes lie on either side of the City, moorland and forest are on the north, and there are marshes on the south. In the Pool are moored the ships, not yet in long lines four deep, but here and there; some of these are lying off the Tower, some are in the port of Billingsgate, and some sailing up the river; all of them have high poops and low bows, and most of them two masts and four square sails. Other vessels there are, vessels of strange build of which we know not the names. We drop across the river, and hoisting sails gently glide with wind and tide up the river as far as Westminster. The Tower looms large above the waters. It is the fortress of London, the Palace and Fortress and Prison of the King, and is guarded with jealous care by moat, outward and inner wall, and barbican against any attack of the citizens within rather than any enemies from without. The King’s Lieutenant never leaves the place; he has his guard of archers and men-at-arms; as well as the prisoners of State in his charge. He has his entrance from the river, and from the east, so that he is quite independent of the City. That little forest of masts belongs to the Port of Billingsgate, one of the ancient ports of the City. The riverside houses between the Tower and Billingsgate are mean and small: the quarter is inhabited by sailors and sailors’ folk, by foreign as well as English sailors. After Billingsgate the houses are higher: some are built out upon piles driven into the mud of the river. Here we pass under London Bridge. On the south bridge gate are stuck on poles the heads of a dozen traitors. Alas! it would be hard to make out the features, so blackened are they by weather and so shrunken and decayed. Yet there are old crones standing about the Surrey side of the bridge for doles from the Bridgemaster and Brethren, who know the name of each, and can tell you his history, and when he suffered, and why. At each end of the bridge stands a church—as if to guard it—St. Magnus on the north and St. Olave on the south—though why should there be two Danish saints to guard an English bridge? In the middle is the chapel—that of an English saint. This bridge, in the imagination of the citizens, is the finest in the world. Admire the number of the arches, and note that no two arches are of the same breadth; look at the houses on the bridge; the way between them is narrow and dark, yet here and there are open spaces, where carts and waggons and pack-horses can wait their turn for passing. Once a house fell from the bridge into the river; once a child fell and was rescued by an apprentice who afterwards married her, and many other stories there are. Now we are through the bridge safely, though many boats have been upset and many brave fellows drowned in shooting the arches. There are no great ships above bridge, but there are a good many of the smaller kind laden with cargoes for Queenhithe Port and Market. And now look up. Saw one ever such a forest of spires and towers? Can we make them out? The light and slender steeple behind the bridge is St. Helen’s; the still more beautiful spire is that of Austin Friars; the tall square tower is St. Michael’s, Cornhill; on the right, the tower and low spire belong to St. Peter’s. And so on.

NORTH-WEST VIEW OF THE ANTIENT STRUCTURE OF MERCHANT-TAYLORS HALL, AND THE ALMS-HOUSES ADJOINING, IN THREADNEEDLE STREET
From drawing taken by William Goodman in the year 1599 and now in possession of the Worshipful Company of Merchant Taylors.

The heavy barges, laden to the water’s edge, have come down from Oxfordshire and Wiltshire; observe the swans, the fishing-boats, and the swarm of watermen plying between stairs, for this is the highway of the City. Not Cheapside, or East Cheap, or Thames Street, or the Strand is the highway of the City, but the river. And as on a main road we pass the noble Lord and his retinue, on their war-horses, caparisoned and equipped with shining steel and gilded leather, and after him a band of minstrels or a company of soldiers; or a lady riding on her palfrey followed by her servants and her followers; so on the river we pass the stately barge of some great courtier, the gilded barge of the Mayor, the common wherry, the tilt-boat, the loaded lighter, and the poor old fishing-boat decayed and crazy.

Look at the riverside houses. Yonder great palace, with its watergate and stairs and its embattled walls, is Fishmongers’ Hall. It is a wealthy company, albeit never one beloved of the people, whom they must supply with food for a good fourth part of the year. That other great house is Cold Harbour, of the first building of which no man knows. Many great people have lived in Cold Harbour, which, as you see, is a vast great place of many storeys, and with a multitude of rooms. Within there is a court, invisible from the river, though its stairs may be seen.

Almost next to Cold Harbour is the “Domus Teutonicorum,” the Hall of the Hanseatic Merchants. What you see from the river is the embattled wall on the river side, one side of the Hall, some windows of the dormitories, stone houses built on wooden columns, also the great weighing-beam and the courtyard. The front of this fortress—for it is nothing less—contains three gates, viz. two small gates easily closed, and one great gate, seldom opened. You see that they have their own watergate and stairs. In everything they must be independent of the London folk, with whom they never mix if they can keep separate. The men live here under strict rule and discipline; they may not marry; they stay but a short time as a rule; and when they are recalled by the rulers of the great company they are allowed to marry. Here, from the south side of the river, we get the only good view of the church of St. Paul. ’Tis a noble Church: is there a nobler anywhere? If we consider how it stands upon a hill dominating the City and all around it, of what length it is, of what height, how its spire seeks the sky and draws the clouds, then when one realises these things one’s heart glows with pride at the possession of so great and splendid a church. See how it rises far above the houses on its south side! Was it by accident, think you, that the churches between the bank and the Cathedral, St. Mary Magdalene, St. Nicolas Cole Abbey, St. Benedict, and the others, were all provided with short square towers without steeples so as to set off the wondrous height of the Cathedral? Was it by accident that on the west side of the Cathedral rose the spire of Blackfriars, and on the east the lesser spire of St. Augustine’s, making a contrast with the lofty proportions of the great church? In front of us is the ancient port once called Edred’s Hythe after the name of a former Wharfinger or Harbour Master or Port Captain; it was afterwards called Potter’s Hythe and later Queen Hythe, because King John gave it to his mother Queen Eleanor, which name it still retains. The port is square, and open on one side to the river; there are never any storms to wreck the shipping within. It is now filled with ships, chiefly of the smaller kind, because the larger craft cannot pass through the Bridge. For this reason Billingsgate long surpassed Queenhithe in the number and importance of its ships and the magnitude of its trade. However, at Queenhithe they are busy. The cranes wheeze and grunt as they turn round; carriers with bales and sacks upon their backs toil unceasingly. All round the quay runs a kind of open cloister with an upper storey on pillars: this is the warehouse of the Harbour.

Grove and Boulton.

A SOUTH-EAST VIEW OF LONDON BEFORE THE DESTRUCTION OF ST. PAUL’S STEEPLE BY FIRE, A.D. 1560

The earliest harbour, whose mouth we passed just now, is an insignificant stream; one cannot understand how it could ever be a harbour for ships. It was once, however, a full and deep stream running rapidly down its valley, and sometimes swollen by rains. It drained Moorfields, and half a dozen rivulets joined together to make the brook, but when the ditch was dug round the wall, the brook fell into the ditch, and although a culvert was cut in the wall for the surplus water to pass down the old bed, little flowed through, and the Walbrook was only kept up as a stream by two or three springs in the northern part of the City.

There is a street in Rouen called the rue des Eaux de Robec, which suggests something of the appearance of the Walbrook before the sixteenth century. The street, which is fairly straight, contains a double row of houses, tall and ancient, projecting in three upper storeys, and decayed from former respectability. Such at the present day, were they still standing, would be the houses lining the course of the Walbrook in the fourteenth century. Along one side of the street runs a rapid stream in a deep channel; the water is black, whether from the darkness or the impurity I know not; it is partly bridged over; the bridges have been broadened until they are no longer narrow footways, but platforms on which workmen sit at their trade, and stalls are set out with things for sale. On the other side is the narrow roadway with its pavement of small uneven square blocks; there is no central gutter, because the stream carries everything off. Such was the appearance of the Walbrook. At first foot-bridges crossed it at intervals; then it was confined to a narrow channel; then other uses were made of the stream; then the footways became floors of stone or woodwork, with the stream open between them; then these openings became gradually filled up, and the stream was shut out of sight and forgotten. If you wish to understand how Walbrook appeared in our imaginary walk, go to see the rue des Eaux de Robec in Rouen.

The stately Palace rising straight from the water’s edge with its river-gate and stairs and its lofty face is Baynard’s Castle, so called from its first founder. Within, there are two spacious courts with rooms to accommodate hundreds of followers. It was formerly the House of the Castellain, for the rights and title of Castellain at first went with the possession of the Castle. When Robert FitzWalter in 1275 parted with Baynard’s Castle he reserved, so far as he could, these rights. They were exercised only in time of war, and at such a time it was the duty of the Castellain, mounted and caparisoned, with nineteen knights and his banner borne before him, to proceed to the great Gate of St. Paul’s, where he was met by the Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs, all arrayed in arms, the Mayor holding the City Banner in his hand, the ground of which was bright vermilion, or gules, with a figure thereon of St. Paul in gold—the feet, hands, and head of the Saint being argent.

At the West End of St. Paul’s was a piece of open ground upon which the citizens made muster of arms for the defence of the City under the inspection of the Lord of Baynard’s Castle. At the East End there was another piece of open ground where the citizens assembled for their folkmote and for making parade of arms for keeping the King’s peace. Here was Paul’s Cross, and here was the clochier or Campanile, the great bell of which summoned the citizens either to the folkmote or to the muster of arms. The following is the order of the ceremonies:—

TEMPLE CHURCH, LONDON
From an engraving by Measom.

“And as soon as the said Robert shall see the Mayor, and the Sheriffs, and the Aldermen, coming on foot out of the said church armed, with such banner, the said Robert (or his heirs who owe this service unto the said city) shall then dismount from his horse, and shall salute the Mayor as his companion and his peer, and shall say unto him: ‘Sir Mayor, I am come to do my service that I owe unto the city’; and the Mayor, and the Sheriffs, and the Aldermen shall say: ‘We deliver unto you here, as to our Banneret in fee of this city, this banner of the city, to bear, carry, and govern, to the honour and to the profit of our city, to the best of your power.’ And the said Robert, or his heirs, shall receive the banner in his hand, and shall go on foot as far as the outside of the gate, with the banner in his hand; and the Mayor of the said city, and the Sheriffs, shall follow him to the gate, and shall bring a horse unto the said Robert, of the price of twenty pounds; and the horse shall be saddled with a saddle with the arms of the said Robert thereon, and covered with cendal with the same arms thereon. And they shall take twenty pounds sterling, and shall deliver them unto the chamberlain of the said Robert, for his expenses of that day. And the said Robert shall mount the horse which the said Mayor has presented unto him, with the banner wholly in his hand.

And as soon as he shall be mounted he shall tell the Mayor to cause a Marshal to be chosen forthwith, of the host of the city of London. As soon as the Marshal is chosen, the said Robert shall cause the Mayor and his burgesses of the city to be commanded to have the communal bell of the said city rung; and all the community shall go to follow the banner of Saint Paul and the banner of the said Robert; the which banner of Saint Paul the self-same Robert shall carry in his own hand as far as Alegate. And when they are come to Alegate, the said Robert and the Mayor shall deliver the said banner of Saint Paul, to be borne onward from Alegate, unto such person as the said Robert and the Mayor shall agree upon, if so be that they have to make their exit out of the city. And then ought the Mayor to dismount. and the said Robert, and of each Ward two of the wisest men behind them, to provide how the city may best be guarded. And counsel to this effect shall be taken in the Priory of the Trinity, by the side of Alegate.

And before every city or castle that the said host of London besieges, if it remains one whole year about the siege, the said Robert ought to have for each siege, from the commonalty of London, one hundred shillings for his trouble, and no more.

And further, the said Robert and his heirs possess a great honour, which he holds as a great franchise in the said city, [and] which the Mayor of the city and the citizens of the same place are bound to do unto him as of right; that is to say, that when the Mayor wishes to hold his Great Council, he ought to invite the said Robert, or his heirs, to be present at his council and at the council of the city; and the said Robert ought to be sworn of the council of the city against all persons, save the King of England or his heirs. And when the said Robert comes to the Hustings in the Guildhall of the city, then ought the Mayor, or the person holding his place, to rise before him, and to place him near unto him; and so long as he is in the said Guildhall, all the judgments ought to be given by his mouth, according to the record of the Recorders of the Guildhall; and as to all the waifs that come so long as he is there, he ought to give them unto the bailiffs of the city, or unto such person as he shall please, by counsel of the Mayor of the said city.” (Riley, Liber Custumarum.)

Yonder is the mouth of the Fleet: as this stream is now, so was the Walbrook of old. On its western bank stands the Palace of Bridewell over against the House of the Blackfriars with its splendid group of buildings and its tall flèche. And now is London left behind us; there is no more trade along the banks of the river save a little at Westminster. These stairs upon the bank, and these carved and painted barges belong to the Palaces of the Bishops, Abbots, and great Lords. We pass Essex House, Arundel House, Somerset House, Burleigh House, the Savoy, Bedford House, Durham House, York House, all with gardens, terraces, and spacious courts. And so we come to the King’s Stairs, Westminster. Here is the King’s Palace, a crowded, busy, noisy place, and beyond is the Abbey of St. Peter, rich and famous. A noble church it is; but it is not so noble, nor is it yet so famous as the Church of St. Paul. Coronations, marriages, funerals, and tombs of kings do ennoble a great church, but there are other kinds of nobility. St. Paul’s is the centre, the heart of a City, which is the centre, the heart of the nation. As the people to the King, so is St. Paul’s Cathedral to Westminster Abbey Church.

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[CHAPTER II]
PORT AND TRADE OF LONDON

The limits of the Port of London, never defined until the reign of Charles II., seem to have been always understood as reaching from the North Foreland to London Bridge. Queenhithe, which, early in the thirteenth century, employed thirty-eight men as carriers, was the oldest landing-place and port. Its present appearance is, save for the warehouses round it, nearly the same as it has always been, substituting the small vessels then in use for the barges and lighters which now lie in that muddy port. Billingsgate was another landing-place at which the King’s Customs were collected. As trade increased it was found necessary to provide increased accommodation, and the following places were appointed, but long afterwards, for the general lading and discharging places for all kinds of goods to be landed and shipped between sunrise and sunset. (Strype.)

• Brewers’ Quay.
• Chesters’ Quay.
• Galley Quay.
• Wool Dock.
• Custom House Quay.
• Porter’s Quay.
• Wiggon’s Quay.
• Young’s Quay.
• Ralph’s Quay.
• Dice Quay.
• Smart’s Quay.
• Somer’s Quay.
• Buttolph Wharf.
• Hammon’s Quay.
• Gaunt’s Quay.
• Cock’s Quay.
• Fresh Wharf.
• Lyon Quay.
• Sab’s Dock.
• Bear Quay.

Billingsgate was appointed only for fish, corn, salt, stones, victuals, and fruit. The Bridge House for corn and other provisions. The Steel Yard for merchant strangers of that Guild.

“By far the most important results of the Norman Conquest, as far as English Industry and Commerce were concerned, lay in the new communications which were opened up with other parts of the Continent.” (W. Cunningham, Growth of English Industry.) These words strike a keynote. It was necessary for the growth and development of the national spirit that the insular isolation of Britain should be swept away. No doubt the close connection of the country with the richest provinces of France for four hundred years brought with it many serious evils, but the stimulus it gave to trade proved of incalculable advantage. And the isolation of England was swept away just at the right moment, when everywhere in western Europe there were springing into wealth and power and independence cities, which had been the private property of barons, or the mere ruins of what had once been busy and populous places. The first essential to trade is some kind of security that an agreement will be kept and a debt will be paid. This security was then impossible unless in a fair, regularly and lawfully held, with its own court; or in a town when the municipality defended the foreign merchant.

The opening of Europe to England had its other side in the opening of England to Europe. A large number of merchants from Rouen and Caen came over both before and after the Norman Conquest to carry on their trade in London. Flemish weavers came over and sought protection from the Queen, a Flemish Princess. Builders in stone came over in great numbers; most of the Churches throughout the country which were of wood were rebuilt in stone. And in addition to these, there were the foreigners who did not wish to settle, but came and went, bringing their wares with them, carrying away the exports, and while they were in Port, living according to their own rules in their own houses.

Of what kind was the Shipping of London, its growth, and its extent? What were the most important lines of trade? These questions are difficult to answer completely. First, we must remember that a merchant ship was also a man o’ war. The great Flanders Fleet of Venice was provided with a company of thirty-six archers for every galley, and the sailors were all fighting men. Next, the shipping of London meant its foreign trade, and this was continually rising and falling. Attempts were made by King Alfred to create a navy; and Sir John Philpot, when he set off to encounter the pirate, was able to lay his hand upon ships enough to carry a thousand men. When the Bastard of Falconbridge attacked the City there were no ships in the Port able to meet him; this, however, was at the close of a long Civil War which greatly damaged the trade of London.

The sailor has always been a creature distinct from his fellow-man. It would seem, from such scanty notice as we can get, that the London craftsman had never any great love for the sea; the sailor came from Dover, Sandwich, Hythe, Dartmouth, and other places, but not from London. In later years a riverside population grew up from the Tower as far as the Isle of Dogs, and eventually these people were connected with shipping. Among them was a whole multitude of sailors, together with those who lived by working among and for the ships in the Pool. There are glimpses of this invisible population within the walls of the City, especially below the Bridge and near the Tower. To this day the courts and lanes in which they lived remain. They are narrow, dark, and noisome. Only the lowest craftsmen could live in such courts; they contained drinking places for the sailors, native and foreign, sleeping dens for them, fighting places for them, but not decent living houses. In such a narrow street, where the houses were built of wood and closely packed with people, broke out the Great Fire of London. Chaucer’s sailor was a Dartmouth man. There were plenty like him standing about on the quay and drinking in the taverns. Your true seafaring man never does anything while he is on shore except stand about on the quays, lean against a post, or carouse in a tavern. Many a fight took place along these quays and in these narrow courts: fights between Genoese and Venetian; between Englishman and Frenchman; between Englishman and Fleming; fights with knife and dagger; fights which began with a duello and ended in a mêlée, all begun, carried on, and ended in a few minutes, leaving a man dying and half a dozen wounded; fights between a man of Dover and a man of Yarmouth; fights over the reckoning at the tavern; fights over Doll and Moll and Poll. Always the riverside of London has been a place remarkable for its life, and vividness, its riot and noise, the cheerful cry of battle, the inspiriting song of the tippler, and the dulcet voice of love.

Every sailor was a fighting man. Until the reign of Henry IV. it was easy to turn a merchant ship into a man o’ war by placing in her the little “castles” from which the bowmen could work. Henry IV. seems to have begun the practice of building ships exclusively for fighting; his son had three very large ships called the Trinity, the Grace de Dieu, and The Holy Ghost; his navy consisted in all of three great vessels, six “nefs,” six “barges,” ten “balingers.” It is not easy to distinguish between the different kinds of ships. The “nef” was a ship of the largest size until the construction of the three great vessels; the “barge” was a large vessel, as is known by the fact that the City possessed one called the Paul of London, for river defence. You may, if you please, learn how the City barge was equipped and rigged and fitted out for sea from the pages of Riley’s Memorials. The terms used, the nautical terms of the time, are translated in footnotes, moreover they are mostly unintelligible. The list is perhaps too technical for these pages. There were also the “balingers,” the “craiez,” the “cogge,” the “katte,” the “galley,” and others.

As soon as riverside land became valuable and ships grew in size the building of ships was carried on, of necessity, outside the walls. When the Shipwrights’ Company was incorporated, in the reign of James I., they built their Hall at Ratcliffe Cross, in the centre of their industry. Shipbuilding yards were placed all along the north bank of the Thames as far east as Northfleet. Until thirty or forty years ago the industry was one of the most important of those belonging to London. There might be occasionally, though its continuance could not be relied upon, peace on land, but there was never peace at sea. From the time when the Count of the Saxon Shore set up his forts from Porchester to Bradwell, and sent out his fleets to sweep the narrow seas, the pirates continued without cessation; they came out of the Low Country ports, from Calais, from Dieppe, from St. Malo; they came down from Scotland; they even came out of English ports to destroy the English trade. They were attacked and dispersed, but they collected again. If France and England were at open war, as was very often the case, the pirates pretended to be in the service of the King most convenient for the moment. They were called the Rovers of the Sea; there was the instance of that Scottish pirate Mercer, who, as we have seen, was attacked and killed by Philpot, most gallant of Lord Mayors; there was Eustace the Monk, whose life and exploits have been written by Thomas Wright; there was William de Marish, who from the safe retreat of Lundy carried on piracy for a time with impunity; there was Savery de Maloleone, the French pirate; there was John of Newport, who murdered the crews of the ships which he took—he held possession of the Isle of Wight; there were pirates of Lynn, Wells, Yarmouth, and Dartmouth. The Cinque Ports were nests of pirates; the mouth of the Rhine, the harbour of Calais, and that of St. Malo were filled with pirates. The English coasts were ravaged by them; Portsmouth, Rye, Southampton, Sandwich, the Isle of Wight, Scarborough, the coast of Norfolk suffered from descents, from sieges, and from capture, by these Rovers. Letters of license were granted. Henry III. granted license to Adam Robertwolt and William le Sauvage to attack and to pillage the King’s enemies where they could, on condition of giving him half the plunder. In the following reign a merchant, having been plundered, received from the King license to carry on reprisals up to the amount which he had lost, but no more; and there is one instance in which English ships despatched north for the defence of Berwick plundered the coast of England on their way! In the twelfth century the same danger attended men who sailed abroad as in the ninth. But in the ninth century every merchant who voyaged three times over the wide seas in his own ship was “of thane right-worthy.” This distinction the master mariner and merchant lost in later years. Yet this kind of reward was still remembered very unexpectedly, when, in the year 1780, James Cook, who had voyaged three times across the wide seas, received after his death the coat of arms which made his family “of thane right-worthy.” During the later Saxon reigns there was a large merchant navy, together with a regular royal navy. This navy was called out once a year for training. Unfortunately for Harold this annual training was over, and the men had gone home when William sailed. Harold’s son seized the ships and sailed for Ireland, whence he carried on depredations for some years on the west coast. England was for a while without a navy, so the pirates began again, and the merchant service suffered.

The history of the next four hundred years, as regards the shipping and the foreign trade of London, is one either of a weak police, or a strong police in the Channel. The merchants of London never ceased to struggle in order to get the foreign trade into their own hands, but, during all this time, with only partial success: we have seen that the men of Rouen, the men of the Emperor, the Venetians, the Genoese, the Florentines, the Lombards, the people of the Hanseatic League, and the Flemings all came to London and carried on their trade themselves. Perhaps the worst time for the London merchant service was the fourteenth century. Yet England still boasted the sovereignty of the sea, and the device of Edward III.’ s gold noble still proudly claimed that supremacy—

“For four things our Noble showeth unto me

King, ship, and sword, and Power of the Sea.”

“Our enemies,” said Capgrave, “laugh at us. They say,‘Take the ship off your gold noble and impress a sheep instead.’” The origin of England’s claim to the sovereignty of the sea, which was constantly advanced even in times of national degradation, was, I believe, a survival from the time when the Roman Fleet, which was maintained for the police of the narrow seas, made and sustained an Emperor, first Carausius, and then Allectus—this fleet had its headquarters sometimes at Southampton, sometimes at Dover, and sometimes at Boulogne, and was undoubtedly sovereign of the sea. The Fleet which King John—under whom the Channel was safe—placed upon the sea was the successor and the heir of the Fleet of Admiral Carausius. The first merchant ship whose name is preserved is the Little Edward. She was lying off Margate in the year 1315, when she was attacked and carried off by the French. Her owner and commander was one John Brand: she was bound for Antwerp: her cargo of wool belonged to three merchants of the Hanse. The ship—probably not a very large vessel—was valued at £40 and the cargo at £120. In the same year a great galley or dromond of Genoa, laden with corn and other provisions for London, was attacked and taken by French pirates. She was estimated to be worth—cargo and ship—£5716: 12s., or about £100,000 of our money. The incorporation of the Merchant Adventurer gave a stimulus to foreign trade in English vessels. London Merchants established themselves on the shores of the Baltic, in Sweden, in the Netherlands, and in the Levant. In the north they encountered the hostility of the Hansard: there was fighting continually: on one occasion all the English merchants at Bergen were massacred. In the Channel, during this century, piracy revived, and became again a great and pressing evil. But that the English ships were not deterred by the dangers innumerable which threatened them is proved by the fact that, in 1438, all the Genoese merchants in London were arrested in a body, put into prison and fined 6000 marks, because the ship belonging to one Sturmyer, a merchant of Bristol, had been seized in the Levant on an alleged charge of breaking the regulations of trade. If a Bristol merchant traded so far, the London merchants, one may be quite certain, penetrated to the same waters. There were also pilgrimages over the seas, and especially during the fifteenth century, to the shrine of St. Iago de Compostella, the tomb of the Apostle James himself. In the year 1434 two vessels sailed from London carrying eighty and sixty pilgrims respectively. And in the reign of Edward IV. no English merchants were allowed to ship goods in foreign ships unless there were no English ships ready for them. At the same time the tonnage of ships had so greatly increased that Canynges of Bristol owned a great ship of 900 tons.

The ships, lying off the quays of Billingsgate and Queenhithe, were the great galleys of Gascony laden with casks of wine, the woad ships of Picardy, the scuts of Flanders, the whelk-boats of Essex, the great vessels of Almaine and Norway, the fleets that came every year sweeping over the seas from Genoa to Southampton and London, the ships which carried on the trade of the Hanse merchants, the fishing-boats and trawlers, the sea-coal boats called “kattes,” the barges and lighters which carried their cargoes up and down the river, the coasting boats which brought stores for building, and which, when not lying off the quays, were moored in the river below London Bridge. And always, all day long, there was the uproar of the sailors and of those who loaded and unloaded; and the din of the markets; and everywhere the serjeants’ men went in and out among the throng, seeing that trade regulations were complied with, that every sack lay open, that foreigners dealt not in retail, that foreigners cleared their goods in a certain time, that there was no underselling. And high above the uproar arose, from every ship of every country as she reached the Port and dropped her anchor, the sailors’ Hymn of Praise to the Virgin that their voyage was safely concluded. This Hymn was the same for all the countries of Western Europe. It adds to the picturesque aspect of the Mediæval Port that when the ships came up the river, when they rounded the point of Deptford and Rotherhithe, the Genoese or Venetian galley, galliot, galleasse—sweeping up against the tide with their banks of oars, the heavy Bordeaux ship laden with wine, sailing up with wind and tide, the craft whose names convey no meaning to us, from each as it arrived in the Pool was heard the same hymn sung by all the ship’s company together, in the midst of the noise of loading and unloading, the dropping or the weighing of anchor, or the casting off of other ships, with the sailors’ chanteys in their own language. It was by special permission that the sailors in Greek ships were allowed to sing their “Kyriele” instead of the Hymn to the Virgin, when the ship dropped anchor below the Bridge.

The Rules of Trade, as set forth in the Liber Albus, are many and stringent. I append the more important. The Ordinances bear date 13 Ed. I.

1. Corn Dealers. Corn brought to London by land is to be taken in bulk to the Market within Newgate before the Friars Minors or at Gras chirche (Gracechurch Street). That “none” of it is to be sold before the hour of Prime, i.e. 6 A.M. to 7 A.M. And that corn brought by water shall be offered to the common people by retail during a whole day.

2. On Forestalling. It is forbidden to meet dealers coming with their wares by land or water before they have put up their wares for sale.

3. No one to sell anything dutiable until he has paid the duty.

4. No freeman of the City to enter into partnership with a stranger (i.e. one who is not a freeman).

5. Bakers are to make loaves of two sizes, viz. two for a penny, and four for a penny. Bread shall be sold in the market only. Every baker to have his own stamp by which his bread may be known. The baker of brown bread not to make white bread and the converse. A baker shall not buy corn to sell it again. A baker shall not sell his flour to cooks for making pastry. Once a month every baker’s bread shall be examined.

If a baker be found to be selling bread under weight he is to be placed on a hurdle with the faulty loaf hanging from his neck and dragged through the “great streets where there may be most people assembled and through the great streets which are the most dirty.” For a second offence he is to be dragged in like manner and set in pillory. For a third offence he is to be dragged, set in pillory, his oven pulled down and himself forbidden to carry on that trade any longer.

A baker is not allowed to give the regratess (i.e. the woman who retails bread from house to house) the “handsel money” of sixpence on Monday or the “curtesy-money” of threepence on Friday: but, instead, he is to give her thirteen loaves as twelve.

6. Of Brewers and Taverners. No measures to be used except the gallon, pottle, and quart. These are to be stamped by the Alderman. The tun of the brewster (brewing was conducted principally by women) to contain 150 gallons. And since the measures (which were made of wood) do sometimes shrink from dryness, they are to be examined four times a year.

7. No stranger to sell by retail in the City unless he has been received into the freedom and enrolled at Guildhall.

No stranger to keep an Inn or to let lodgings in the City.

If a stranger, however, obtain the freedom of the City he may keep an Inn in any part of the City except the river-side.

8. All citizens to be in scot and lot. Scot is the payment of contributions and taxes, Lot, the assessment of it in due proportions.

9. No pigs to be allowed in the streets and lanes. If any man find a pig in the street he may kill it and keep it.

10. Markets to be held only in places assigned. Retailers of provisions not to buy before Prime.

11. None but freemen to receive apprentices. No time of apprenticeship to be less than seven years. And an apprentice who has served his time must take up his freedom and be enrolled before he carries on his trade.

12. The Mayor, Sheriffs, Aldermen, or their serjeants, clerks, and bedels, shall not keep a baker’s oven, or a tavern, or any trade of low repute.

13. Carts carrying firewood, timber, or charcoal, not to stand in the City except on Cornhill.

14. No one to go into Southwark for the purchase of corn, beasts, or other merchandise whereby a market might be established.

15. Lepers not to go about the streets or to sleep in the City. They are to have their common “attorney” or procter who shall go round the Churches on Sunday morning to collect alms for them.

16. Sellers of fish not to throw their water into the streets but to carry it to the Thames.

17. Schools for fencing and buckler play not to be kept within the City.

18. Foreign butchers (i.e. butchers who have not the freedom of the City) to bring into the City the hides and pelts of the oxen and sheep: to be allowed to sell their meat until high noon (Riley interprets this to mean from one to three o’clock).

19. All the lanes leading from Thames Street to the river to be kept clear so that persons on horseback may ride up and down.

20. No tavern to be kept open after curfew.

21. Boatmen to have their boats moored by sunset.

22. Woolfels to be sold in open market.

23. Regulations as to the making of furs.

24. Merchants bringing goods to the City to be allowed to proceed without molestation.

25. Labourers, i.e. carpenters, masons, plasterers, tilers, etc., are to be paid according to the orders of the Mayor and Aldermen.

26. Fishmongers not to buy fish before the hour of Prime.

No market was to be held on London Bridge, especially by Fripperers, or dealers in old clothes. No market was to be made in Southwark.

Barbers were not to expose blood in their windows, but were ordered to throw it into the river. They were also forbidden to carry on their trade on Sundays. Bowyers were forbidden to send bows for sale to Cornhill or to any other place in the City. What does this mean?

Goldsmiths were to have a private mark on every piece. Smiths were to have their private mark on every sword or knife. Hostelers were those who lodged and fed the servants and horses of their guests. Herbergeours gave them lodging only. Strangers were not lodged in taverns. Strangers and foreigners were not, as a rule, permitted to let lodgings. A stranger could only be admitted for a day and a night. After that, the hosteler had to be responsible for any offences a guest might commit. Hostelers were forbidden to sell food and drink to any but their guests. They were not allowed to brew or to make bread.

The “articles” of the ward motes overlapped in some particulars the Trade Regulations. I take a few clauses. Strangers could only be received for a night and a day unless the host became responsible for them. No open fireplace was to be placed near partitions, or boards, or in any upper room. All persons were to give their assistance to the Officers of the Ward in arresting disorderly or rebellious persons. Residents in great houses to keep a ladder or two for the use of their neighbours. From Whit Sunday to St. Bartholomew’s a barrel full of water to be kept before every house. The roof of every house to be of tile, stone, or lead. Crooks and cords to be provided to pull down houses in case of fire. No refuse to be thrown into the street. No pigs or cows allowed within the houses. Stalls not to be more than 2½ feet in width before the house. Pent-houses to be so high that persons can ride and walk below them.

Before every Ward Mote there is to be an Inquisition into the observance of these ordinances and a few other points.

Viz.: If there is any huckster in the Ward.

If any swine or cows are reared within the Ward.

If any leper is resident within the Ward.

If any purprestures (i.e. encroachments) have been made in the streets.

If any baker of “tourte,” or “trete” bread (i.e. the coarse brown bread) make fine bread.

If an officer of the Ward has extorted money on any pretence.

If any bargain of usury has been made in the Ward since the last Ward Mote.

The rule about pigs was constantly repeated and as often disregarded. At one time in the thirteenth century four men were appointed to find and kill all pigs wandering about the streets. St. Anthony’s Hospital was an exception. This House was privileged to let its pigs go free in the City provided that they had bells hanging from their necks and that they were pigs bestowed upon the Hospital out of charity. (See vol. ii. pt. iii. ch. viii.) Later on, however, it was forbidden to keep pigs, cows, or oxen in the City at all.

The fuel used in the houses largely consisted of charcoal, which was brought into the City from the forests in the north and south of London in carts. It was ordered, temp. Richard II., that both charcoal and firewood should be sold at 10d. a quarter between Michaelmas and Easter, and at 8d. between Easter and Michaelmas. This price seems very high in comparison with that of other commodities. It is not known when coals began to be used. The name of Sea Coal Lane, near the Fleet River, was so called from coal being there stored in the reign of Henry III., if not much earlier. Coal paid custom at Billingsgate. The market for wood was not Wood Street (? Woad Street) but at Smithfield and at Cornhill. The carters sold “talwood, fagot, and busche”—words which explain themselves. Fern, reeds and stubble were also used as fuel.

The sense in which a London craftsman was a “freeman” was, happily for the growth of real freedom, extremely restricted. He must be apprenticed, and during his term of seven years he was the servant, or perhaps the adopted son of the man to whom he was bound; he must belong to a Guild; he must obey the laws of that Guild; these were minute and careful: they made a man work during stated hours and no longer; they regulated the price of his work; they would not allow him to work on Church festivals; they would not let him go to law with another of the same Guild; they sent him to church regularly; if he disgraced his moral character in any way they turned him out of his trade and sent him out of the City. In other words, he could not exercise his freedom in living idly or mischievously. The system was admirable on paper, and in fact seems to have worked well. Above all, it taught the lesson which we have since forgotten, that a workman does not belong to himself alone, but to the community. That was the meaning of fixed hours, fixed prices, fixed holidays.

“As regards wages, carpenters and that class of workman mostly received, between Michaelmas and Martimas (11th Nov.) 4d. per day, or else 1½d. ‘and their table,’ at the option of the employer; between Martimas and the Purification (2nd Feb.), 3d., or 1d. and their table; between the Purification and Easter, 4d., or 1½d. and their table; and between Easter and Michaelmas, 5d., or 2d. and their table. Saturdays and Vigils were to be paid for as whole days, the men only working till the evening, and on Sundays and Feast-days they were ‘to take nothing,’ the meaning being, no doubt, that on those days they did not work at all. Their servants, or under-workmen, and the makers of clay walls, were to receive, between Michaelmas and Easter, 2d., and between Easter and Michaelmas, 3d., for all demands. Should any person pay a workman beyond these rates, he was to pay to the City a fine of 40s., and the workman to be subjected to forty days’ imprisonment. About seventy years later, the wages of certain of these artisans had apparently increased, Masons, Carpenters, Plasterers, and Sawyers receiving sixpence during the long days, and fivepence in winter, but without being permitted to charge for the repair of their implements. The wages of Tilers, however, had not made so great an advance, being at the rate of 5½d. and 4½d. according to the length of the days, and the wages of their boys (garsons) 3½d. and 3d. ‘Master Daubers’ also were to be content with fivepence and fourpence, according to the length of the days, their boys receiving at the same rate as those of Tilers.”—Riley, Liber Albus, pp. xxxvi.-xxxvii.

London made within its own walls almost everything that it wanted (see p. 195). The subdivision of trade in a hundred branches was inevitable as the town grew larger and its demands more imperious. For instance, in the branch of arms and armour, there were wanted the bowyer who made bows, the fletcher who made arrows, the bokelsmyth who made buckles, the bracers who made armour for the arms, the gorgoaricer who made gorgets, the tabourer who made drums, the heaulmere who made helmets, the maker of haketons—a quilted jacket worn under armour and sometimes used for armour—of gambesons—another lighter kind of jacket—of pikes, swords, spears, and cross-bow bolts. Again, in the matter of clothing, each kind of garment had its own maker. The wympler made wymples, or those handkerchiefs for the neck worn by nuns and elderly ladies; the capletmonger made and sold caps; the callere made cowls or coifs; the chaloner made chalons or corselets; the bureller worked in coarse cloth; the white tawyer in white leather; the names of the quilter, the pinner, and the plumer, explain their branches. Many of the trades were extremely offensive to the neighbours, and complaints were made from time to time. Not even a mediæval Londoner, for instance, could enjoy the neighbourhood of tallow-melting or of soap-making; nor could the people at any time endure the sight and stink of the blood and offal from the Shambles pouring down the narrow lanes into the river. Therefore order was taken on these subjects. It must, however, be remembered that the City of London, now a warehouse and a distributing centre, was formerly a great hive of industries. Wherever one walked there arose the busy hum and mingled sounds of work: the melodious anvil rang out from a court; the cry of the prentices sounded in Chepe; the song of those who retailed wares was heard about the street; the women who sold fish cried aloud; the man who carried water also cried his wares; and so did the baker who took round the loaves. In the broad streets, Chepe and Cornhill and Bishopsgate Street, the knights and men-at-arms rode slowly along; perhaps a great noble entered the City with five hundred followers all wearing his livery; broad-wheeled waggons heavily rumbled; the Queen was carried along in her cumbrous but richly decorated carriage or her horse litter; the Mayor rode down the street accompanied by the Sheriffs and the Aldermen on the way to a City Function; a trumpeter, a drummer, and a piper preceded a little procession in which the principal figure was a man tied on a hurdle with a whetstone round his neck to show that he was a liar and a cheat; thus was the attention of the people called to the culprit, and they were invited to assist at his pillory, and were admonished of the punishment meted out to offenders. And all the time from every shop and stall and seld the voice of the prentice was uplifted crying, “Buy! buy! buy! What d’ye lack? what d’ye lack?” Above all, and all day long, was heard the ringing of the bells in the hundred and fifty churches and chapels of the City. They sounded all together for early mass, and all together for angelus; at other times for the various services in the Religious Houses: even at midnight they sounded, when the monks were summoned from their warm beds to Matins. It was a noisy, bustling city full of life and animation; the people were always ready to fight, always dreading fire, famine, and plague, yet always hopeful; and the City was always young as befits a city continually at work.

The Trade of London covers the exports and the imports, the industries and the productions, the wants and the luxuries, the superfluities and the extravagances, of the City. There was no great change in these respects during the whole period from the Norman Conquest to the accession of the Tudors. That is to say, the Court of Edward IV. was in all essentials the same as the court of Richard II. A dignitary of the Church in the year 1480 was more magnificent than, but not otherwise different from, one in the year 1280. The rank and state of a Mayor of the later period were much like those of a Mayor in the former period. There had been some development in art; there had been some changes in arms, armour, and warfare: we will try to enumerate the callings, trades, and industries of Mediæval London. It will be matter of surprise to learn how many there were; how many have disappeared; and how many have been merged in other trades. It was not machinery alone that turned man into a machine and made him spend his whole life on one little piece of work, always beginning, always ending, always repeated. In the Appendix will be found a categorical list of trades. I do not advance the list as complete, but it contains nearly all the trades mentioned in the authorities for the time.

This list shows, what I have already stated, that nearly everything wanted for the daily use of the people was made within the walls of the City; here wool was made fit for use, flax was spun, cloth was woven, weapons were hammered out and shaped, bow and arrow, lance, pike, and sword; armour was made, became breastplate and cuirasses; skins were converted into leather, leather into saddles; tiles and bricks were made; the skins and furs were made fit for use; the gold and silver cups, mazers and chalices were made in the City; the people of London made blankets of shalloon, they also made the quilts and pillows; beautiful things with silk, glass vessels, and dainty things for women; in fine—everything that could be made in the City was made. This fact not only limits the imports from foreign and native markets, but shows how self-sufficient a mediæval city could be. This self-sufficiency is further illustrated by the law (3 Ed. IV. c. 4), which prohibited the importation—a measure of Protection—of a great number of goods on the ground that the English artificers cannot compete against foreign-made wares.

Here is a list of things made:—

“Woollen Caps, Woollen Cloth, Laces, Corses, Ribbands, Fringes of Silk and Thread, Laces of Thread, Silk twined, Silk in any wise embroidered, Laces of Gold, Tyres of silk or gold, Saddles, Stirrups, or any Harness pertaining to Saddlery, Spurs, Bosses of Bridles, Aundirons, Gridirons, any Manner of Locks, Pinsons, Fire-tongs, Dripping Pans, Dice, Tennis Balls, Points, Purses, Gloves, Girdles, Harness for Girdles of Iron, Latten Steel, Tin or of Alkemine, anything wrought of any Tawed Leather, any Tawed Furrs, Buscans, Shoes, Galoches, or Corks, Knives, Daggers, Wood-knives, Bodkins, Sheers for Taylors, Scissors, Razors, Sheaths, Playing Cards, Pins, Pattens, Pack Needles, or any Painted Ware, Forcers, Caskets, Rings of Copper or of Latten Gilt, or Chaffing Dishes, Hanging Candlesticks, Chaffing Balls, Sacring Bells, Rings for Curtains, Ladles, Scimmers, Counterfeit Basons, Ewers, Hats, Brushes, Cards for Wool, Blanch Iron Thread commonly called White Wire.” (W. Cunningham, Growth of English Industry.) (See also Appendix II.)

The following notes on the regulations of trade are by Riley:—

“The business of the Winedrawers (Wyndrawers) seems to have been limited to the loading, carriage, and unloading, of tuns and pipes of wine from the Quay cellars to other parts of the City. Their charges were restricted by enactment to certain prices, according to the distance; ten pence being the largest sum allowed for the carriage of a tun of wine to any part within the walls, and eight pence for a pipe.”

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“The business of a Brewer was acknowledgedly one held in low estimation; indeed ‘Breweress’ rather should be the term, as, in the times now under consideration, the business was almost wholly in the hands of females, and so continued to be till the close of the fifteenth century, if not later; at which period Fleet Street was tenanted almost wholly by breweresses or alewives, and makers of felt caps. The brewers of ale generally, if not always, sold it also by retail to the public, as well as wholesale, to such dealers as were not brewers themselves, but privileged to sell it. Indeed, at some periods, as already noticed, we meet with prohibitory enactments, forbidding any person but brewers and hostelers to be sellers of ale.

The ale-tavern or ale-house seems to have been a distinct establishment from the wine-tavern; the keeper of which, though the fact does not appear [Liber Albus], was probably prohibited from selling ale. For the present, it is proposed to call the reader’s attention exclusively to the brewing and sale of ale.

Immediately a brewing was finished, it was the duty of the brewer or breweress to send for the Ale-conner of the Ward in order to taste the ale. Upon so doing, the Ale-conner, in case he did not find the ale equal to the Assize, or, in other words, not so good as it ought to be, with the assent of his Alderman set a lower price upon it, which, upon sale thereof, was not to be exceeded. Fine, imprisonment, and even punishment by pillory, were the result of reiterated breaches of the Assize. The gallon, pottle, and quart of the brewer and taverner were to be duly impressed with the seal of the Alderman of the Ward; the tun also, or vat, of the brewery (containing 150 gallons) was similarly sealed. The pottles and quarts, there is reason to believe, were sometimes made of wood, as we find them spoken of as being made when green, and as shrinking from dryness on getting cold. Consumers, private probably as well as taverners, sent their vessel to the brewery; and, by public enactment, there it was to stand the rest of the day and through the night, for the purpose of giving the ale time to work, another proof of its newness when consumed. The next morning on being taken away by the customer, the vessel was to be ‘full of good and clear ale.’

No brewer or breweress, or regrator or regratress of ale, was to keep his or her doors open after Curfew rung, under heavy penalties. Brewers, as well as hostelers, were ordered to retail their ale by full and lawful measure, and not to sell it by the hanap, or metal drinking-mug of the establishment.”

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“The best ale, which was no better than sweet-wort, was probably so thin that it might be drunk in ‘potations pottle deep’ without disturbing the equilibrium of the drinker. Fermented liquors were drunk too in these days as new as possible; and there can be little doubt that the ale was used the moment it was made. This, combined with its possible thinness and its lusciousness, would additionally tend to prevent it from producing inebriety; and it is doubtful whether the Londoners then deserved the character for drunkenness which FitzStephen had seemed inclined to give them little better than a century before. The fact, however, that the smallest ale-measure here noticed is a quart would certainly seem, it must be admitted, to militate somewhat against a belief in their comparative sobriety. The extensive consumption, too, of wine, which, at one period, was little more than twice as dear as ale, may have exercised some influence in this respect. Wine at this low price would be no better than, if indeed as good as, the vin ordinaire of the present day; and consequently, though largely drunk, there would be but little chance of its causing inebriety.”

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“Pastelers were a class of tradesmen who made pies, and probably other kinds of pastry as well. By one enactment we find them ordered to make pies for one halfpenny; the materials probably being found by those who employed them. Pie-bakers (pybakeres), there seems reason to believe, united the trade of baking pies for their customers with the keeping of tables for guests on their own account; as already noticed, like their brethren, the cooks, they are occasionally spoken of as retailing ale. In one instance, we find an order made that no cook shall charge more than one penny for putting a capon or a rabbit in a crust; the materials for the pastry, with the exception perhaps of the flour, being evidently found by the customer employing him.

The wholesale markets for corn, malt, and salt, brought to London by water, were at Billingsgate, and Queen Hythe. Sometimes in the reign of Edward III. and Richard II., we find it enacted, that the commodities brought to these quays shall remain three days on sale to the public, before the dealers shall be allowed to buy; at other times, the period is limited to a single day. Corn coming to Queen Hythe, temp. Edward II., the property of a stranger, or non-freeman, was not to be put up for sale before prime rung at St. Paul’s, six in the morning. Temp. Richard II., certain bells seem to have been rung to announce to the dealers when the sale of corn at Queen Hythe, Graschirche, and Billingsgate was about to commence. Corn and malt were also sold at Smithfield in the times, apparently, of Edward I., and his successor. In the two following reigns, however, we find it frequently enacted, that persons bringing corn and malt for sale in carts or on horses from the Eastern parts, namely, from the counties of Cambridge, Bedford, Huntingdon, and from Ware, shall take their stand on the Pavement at Graschirche; and those coming from the West, ‘as from Barnet,’ shall expose their wares for sale on the Pavement before the Friars Minors, at Newgate. As they were not allowed to sell by sample, these extensive pavements would be particularly convenient for the deposit and exposure of their sacks. Besides supplying the City to a considerable extent with bread, Stratford, in Essex, was evidently a great repository for corn and flour: which, temp. Edward III., was brought to the City by carts, several times in the week probably, as they paid 3d. per week for Pavage.

Sellers and buyers of corn seem to have been watched at all times with the greatest jealousy and suspicion; out of numerous regulations made at various periods in reference to them, the following may deserve notice:—Vendors of corn were forbidden to sell it by sample, or to put it in any place out of public view. No monger or regrator of corn, fish, or poultry, was to make purchase thereof, before the hour of prime. Good corn was not to be mixed with bad, ‘in deceit of the people,’ under pain of forfeiture. No one was to buy corn, malt, or salt, and leave it in the hands of the original seller for the purpose of selling it as his agent at a profit. No freeman of the City, a regrator of corn, was to stand on the Pavements of Graschirche and Newgate between the foreign sellers, but each class of dealers was to have its separate stand. No retailer was to buy corn or malt for resale except on market days.”

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“Fishmongers, selling fish in large quantities to their customers, were to sell by the basket; such basket to be capable of containing one bushel of oats, and, if found deficient, to be burnt in open market. Each basket was also to contain only one kind of sea-fish; and the fishmongers were warned not to colour (douber) their baskets; or, in other words, not to put good fish on the top and inferior beneath. Fish arriving by water at night was not to be moved from the boat till sunrise; but in case the night was rainy, it might be landed on the Quay, under charge of the ‘Serjeant of the Street,’ till the proper time for sale. Herrings, mackerel, and other fish brought by cart, were not to be bought for resale before the hour of noon. Fish brought by land in baskets, when purchased by the keeper of a shop, was not to be taken into the shop, but to be exposed publicly for sale in front of it; the case of a freeman excepted, who might warehouse it for the night, on condition of selling it, without subtraction, in open market next day.

Though, as already stated, fish was occasionally sold at places lower down the river, dealers in the City were at times forbidden to forestall sea-fish or freshwater fish, ‘for the purpose of sending it to any great lord or to a house of religion, or of regrating it,’ until the purveyors for the King had made their purchases for their master’s use. At another period, a regulation was made that no fishmonger should buy fish brought to the City ‘before the good people have bought what they need.’ Very similar, too, in spirit were the following enactments, belonging to various periods in the century under notice:—No fish was to be bought till the vessel was moored. Citizens of London might buy at the boat at the same price as the dealers. Fishmongers were not to buy fresh fish till after mass sung (probably at sunrise) at the Chapel on London Bridge, or at the Church of St. Martin; and not to buy salt fish till after prime; though, by a regulation, temp. Edward I., this last article applied only to salt fish in which strangers had a share, that belonging to citizens being allowed to be sold at sunrise, like the fresh. Freemen of the City, too, were permitted to stand with the fishmongers at their stalls, and to be partners with them in the sale of their wares. No apprentice was to enter a vessel for the purpose of buying fish; and no porter, unless he was called.

We find it also enacted, that no one shall sell fish upon the Quay by retail; and that no one shall carry about cooked whelks for sale, under pain of being amerced and losing his whelks. Fish coming by land, and arriving after dinner, was allowed to be warehoused, whether belonging to a freeman or not, and sold in the market on the morrow. No seller of stockfish was allowed to enter a vessel for the purchase of fish: his trade was wholly distinct from that of the ordinary fishmonger.”

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“The great cattle-market, of course, was Smithfield (Smooth field), which is mentioned as a ‘campus,’ a plain, or open space; and ordinances are met with, of an early date, for keeping it clean. Among other animals sold at Smithfield, lean swine are mentioned, probably for fattening in town or in its close vicinity. From the frequent mention of pigs, it would seem probable that pork was more extensively consumed than any other kind of butchers’ meat. Temp. Edward III., lambs are mentioned as being brought by boat to St. Botolph’s Wharf, near the Tower. The great meat-markets were held at the Flesh-Shambles of St. Nicholas, near Newgate, and at the stalls under the covered place or market-house (domus) known as ‘Le Stokkes,’ afterwards Stocks Market. At some periods, if not constantly, the meat-markets were open on Sundays. Temp. Richard II., a regulation was made that all butchers, keeping shops, should close them at dark, and not sell their meat by candle-light; a rule which seems, at times, to have applied to all other trades as well. On the same occasion, too, it was ordered that no one should go out of the City for the purchase of lambs, and that no lambs should be sold at a higher price than six pence.

In the reign of Edward III., orders were issued that the offals of St. Nicholas Flesh-Shambles should be buried in spots appointed for the purpose; and at a later period, in the same reign, we find proclamation made that the butchers of St. Nicholas shall no longer carry the offals and filth of the market down to the Thames; a mandate also being issued that large cattle shall in future be slaughtered without the City.

In the early part of the reign of Edward I., it was ordered that strange or foreign butchers should sell till none (our noon) by retail, and, after that, by wholesale, until Vespers rung at St. Paul’s; at which time they must have finished the sale of their meat, without carrying anything away to salt or store, under penalty of forfeiting the same. In the reign of Edward III., the time for the foreign butchers closing market had been prolonged to Curfew at St Martin’s le Grand. Foreign butchers were also strictly forbidden to bring any carcase to market without the hide or woolfel belonging thereto. Among other ordinances, which seem to have applied equally to free butchers and foreign, it was provided that they should not sell hides or woolfels till after prime, or six in the morning; that they should not sell a woolfel while the animal was alive; and an injunction is to be met with more than once, that butchers, neither themselves nor by their wives, should sell suet, tallow, or lard, for the purpose of being taken beyond sea. Candles were made in these days of tallow or wax, as now.”

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“The persons whose business it was to receive guests for profit, appear to have been divided into two classes, ‘Hostelers’ and the ‘Herbergeours.’ The line of distinction between these two classes is not very evident, but it seems not improbable that it consisted in the fact that the former lodged and fed the servants and horses of their guests, while the latter did not. At all events, hostelers are mentioned as supplying hay and corn for horses, but herbergeours never.”

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“Temp. Edward I., Barbers were forbidden to expose blood in their windows, but were ordered to carry it privily to the Thames,—one of the comparatively few ordinances of these times to the detriment of that now much ill-used stream. Temp. Henry IV., an enactment is found, to the effect that Barbers shall not follow their calling, or keep their shops open on Sundays. At the close of Edward the Third’s reign, Bowyers were forbidden to send bows to Cornhill, or to any other place within the City, for sale. In the early part of the same reign, Spurriers were ordered to sell spurs at the rate of 6d. and 8d. the pair, the very best not to exceed 12d. In the same reign, it was also enacted that every Goldsmith should put his mark on plate of his manufacture; all Smiths, too, who made swords, and knives, were to have their private mark. Temp. Edward I., the prices to be charged and materials were regulated on the following terms: for putting on a common horse-shoe with six nails, 1½d.; with eight nails, 2d.; and for removing the same, 1/2d.; for putting a shoe on a courser, 2½d.; for putting a shoe on a charger, 3d.; and for removing a shoe from either, 1d.

Carriage or cartage might at any time be seized by the serjeants and grooms (garsons) of the City dignitaries and officials from the ‘Traventers,’ or persons who kept carts and horses for hire. The carts, however, that carried away the filth of the City are mentioned as being especially exempted; an enactment that has very much the semblance of making a virtue of necessity. The serjeants and grooms were especially directed, not to molest the carts and horses of the poor persons who brought victuals and other wares to the City for sale, and not ‘for their own private gain,’ to spare those of persons who kept them for hire,—a rather strong hint as to the prevalence of bribery, which in all probability was anything but uncalled for. Carts used in the City for the carriage of sand, gravel, or potter’s clay, contained one full quarter and no more.” (Riley, Introduction to Liber Albus.)

To these trade regulations should be appended a most formidable document (38 Ed. III.) issued against usurers. The preamble will sufficiently expose the view held of usury at that time.

“Whereas heretofore the City of London has sustained great mischiefs, scandals, and damages, and in time to come might sustain the same, by reason of certain persons who, neither for fear of God nor for shame of the world, cease, but rather do daily exert themselves, to maintain the false and abominable contract of usury, under cover and colour of good and lawful trading; which kind of contract, the more subtly to deceive the people, they call ‘exchange’ or ‘chevisance’; whereas it might more truly be called ‘wickedness,’ seeing that it ruins the honour and the soul of the agent, and sweeps away the goods and property of him who appears to be accommodated, and destroys all manner of right and lawful traffic, whereby, as well throughout all the land as the said City, they ought principally to be upheld and maintained. Wherefore, etc.”

Mints were anciently established in every important town, the work of coinage being entrusted to private persons named moneyers.

In the reign of Edward I. there were mints in London, Canterbury, Kingston-on-Hull, Newcastle-on-Tyne, Bristol, and Exeter, a system which produced endless disorders and complaints as to light weight and bad money. It was not until the reign of Elizabeth that all the mints were reduced to one, and that in the Tower of London. Gold coins were introduced by Henry III., but they were not liked, and, as it was optional to take them, they were not in common use until the reign of Edward III., who originated the noble, the half noble, and the quarter noble.

When the King or Queen communicated, and on Twelfth Day, an offering was made of a coin called a Besant, which was afterwards redeemed by the King’s Chamberlain. The Besant was a circular piece of hammered gold engraved on one side with the Trinity and on the other with the Virgin Mary. Those worked for James I. were different. The representation of the King showed him kneeling before an altar, with four crowns before him, and the legend Quid retribuam Domino pro omnibus quæ tribuit mihi? On the other side was a lamb lying beside a cross with the words Cor contritum et humiliatum non despiciet Deus.

On all occasions of state, such as a Coronation, a marriage, a baptism, a funeral, or the installation of a Knight of the Garter, it was customary for the King to offer a Besant. The custom is said to have fallen into disuse when a certain Dean of Windsor refused to allow the Besant to be redeemed with money. The moneyer to whom was entrusted the engraving of the Besant was named after the coin. Thus we find in the reign of Henry II. that the moneyers, as officers especially dependent on the King, were assessed separately. The Moneyers of London paid a tallage ad filiam maritandam. They were five in number, Achard, who paid six shillings, Lefwine Besant, who paid five marks, Aylwin Finch, who paid two marks, and two others.

Let us next ask what were the goods which London merchants had to offer for exchange and for exportation?

Henry of Huntingdon, writing in the reign of Henry II., says that England possessed mines of copper, iron, lead, and silver, the last metal in very small quantities. “Silver, however, is received from the neighbouring ports of Germany, with which an extensive commerce is carried on by the Rhine in the abundant product of fish and meat, as well as of fine wool and fat cattle which Britain supplies.... Britain also furnishes large quantities of very excellent jet of a black and brilliant hue.” One observes that he does not include slaves among the exports. That trade had therefore disappeared. The statement of this Chronicle stands good for four hundred years. The staple exports of England continued to be wool, hides, iron, and tin. Sometimes grain was also exported. England, for many centuries, was the greatest wool-producing country of Europe. The chief reason appears to have been the comparative peace enjoyed by the island at a time when the rest of Western Europe was continually devastated by wars of all kinds, namely, civil wars, foreign wars, wars between barons, wars between towns. The Englishman was the only farmer who could keep his sheep. Therefore it happened that the German Ocean was always covered with light ships sailing to and fro laden with wool. Flanders was the manufacturing country which received the wool; when there was a break in the friendly relations of England and Flanders half the Flemish people were thrown out of work. England sent abroad money by means of wool: the tribute to the Pope was paid in sacks of wool sent to Bruges and there sold. In the year 1343 the Deans of York, Lichfield, and Salisbury, and the Archdeacon of Canterbury, who were all non-resident Italians, received their stipends in wool. Even the taxes were calculated by sacks of wool.

Many efforts were made to make England a manufacturing country, but for a long time in vain. Henry I. established the cloth fair at St. Bartholomew’s. Edward III. brought weavers from Flanders and settled them at Norwich. One has only to stand before the Guildhalls of Bruges and Ghent, or in the splendid Hall of the Drapiers of Ypres, to understand how great an industry was this of the cloth manufacture, which the English people were so slow in learning.

Up to the fifteenth century the English ships went up to Bruges by canal. When in the sixteenth century Maximilian dammed the canal at Sluys, the English vessels then went to Antwerp.

The chief town of the wool trade was called the Staple. It was changed from time to time: Bruges, St. Omer, Calais, Antwerp, were all in succession Staples. When Antwerp was sacked in 1567 and 1585, London took its place.

The imports may be classified under the division of the countries whence they came. Thus, from Spain the port of London received figs, raisins, bastard wine, dates, liquorice, Seville oil, grain, Castile soap, wax, iron, wool, wadmoles, skins of goats and kids, saffron, and quicksilver. But these goods were not received from Spain direct, but through Bruges, the great Flemish emporium, where the English bought the Spanish merchandise. Portugal exported wine, wax, grain, figs, raisins, honey, cordovan, dates, salt, hides. Prussia exported beer, bacon, wax, osmunds, copper, steel, bowstaves, peltry, pitch, tar, boards, flax, Cologne thread, fustian, canvas, cards, buckram, etc. The Genoese brought over cloth of gold, silk, pepper, woad, oil, woodashes, cotton, alum, and gold. The Venetians brought all kinds of spices and groceries, sweet wines, apes, and other foreign articles, and many articles of luxury.

“The grete galleys of Venees and Fflorence

Be wel ladene with thynges of complacence:

Alle spicerye and of grocers ware.

With swete wynes, alle manere of chaffare

Apes and japes and marmasettes taylede

Trifles, trifles that littelle have availidde

And thynges with which they fetely blere oure eye

With thynges not enduring that we bye

Ffor moche of thys chaffare that is wastable

Might be fore borne for diere and dissevable.”

(Libelle of English Polycie.)

From Brabant and Zealand came madder, woad, garlick, onions, and salt fish. In the markets of Brabant were exposed for sale the wares of France, Burgundy, and Hainault, brought overland in carts.

From Ireland came wool, hides, salt fish, such as salmon, haddock, herring; limes, skins of martens, otters, rabbits, kids, etc. Scotland exported direct, without passing through London, wool and hides.

From Brittany came wine, what wine? It must have been wine of the Loire country shipped from St. Malo; salt and canvas. Iceland sent stockfish and took corn, cloth, ale, and wine.

Thorold Rogers has compiled a list of English towns which produced and exported. London is not in that list. London made nothing except for its own use; it imported all the things which we have enumerated above, but it made nothing for export. This is a remarkable fact. It proves that the City was quite early regarded as a centre of distribution.

It will be observed in this list that in matters of necessity London could do without foreign assistance altogether. The houses were built of English oak and English stone; bread, butter, cheese, meat, game, fish, ale, cider, perry, mead, salt, honey, could be made or obtained; cloth, woollen stuffs of all kinds, linen, fur, fuel, all these necessary things were provided at home. Even wine—of a kind—was made of English grapes. The poorer classes had nothing to do with foreign imports. Except for woad—and some of this was grown at home—the manufactures and industries of the country could get along very well without foreign help. The swords of Toledo and Damascus were very beautiful, but an English cutlass made out of Sussex iron by an English artificer was more serviceable in battle. The imports were either luxuries for the wealthy classes, such as wine, preserved fruit, cloth of gold, buckram, fur, etc., or they were things wanted to supplement and make cheaper home products, as wax, honey, leather, salt fish, onions, garlic, etc. For this reason the imports were not as a rule equal to the exports, and the balance of trade was in favour of London. Compare the craftsman of Edward III. with him of Victoria. The former drank brews of various kinds but all home made, the latter drinks tea, coffee, cocoa, sometimes German beer, whisky, brandy, rum, geneva, and perhaps wine, all imported. The former ate bread, bacon, mutton, beef, cheese, eggs, fish, which were all produced at home. Half of the food stuffs of the latter come from abroad. The former made everything that was wanted for the house; the latter imports everything, doors, window-frames, coffins, matches, in fact everything that can be got cheaper from abroad than at home. Cheapness has its dangers; we no longer value what it costs no effort to procure; fine wheaten bread lies unheeded in our gutters; the sense of conquest and possession is lost; the struggle is no longer for the simple needs of life but for the luxuries.

A HOUSEHOLD DINING
From MS. 28162 in British Museum.

Mention has been frequently made of Fairs. There is nothing now in existence which in the least resembles one of the great Fairs of this time. The shops, which were sheds or stalls or booths covered with canvas, were ranged side by side in streets, called after the kind of goods sold in them. Thus, there was the “Spicery,” the “Portery,” the “Drapery.” The Fair lasted for two or three weeks. It was a fair for exchange as well as for sale; the wholesale merchants frequented the Fair, exchanging silks for wool or skins; and the retailers spread out their wares to catch the people. Everything was offered for sale, while the Fair, which always contained a certain element of feasting, was amply provided with taverns, eating and drinking shops, musicians, dancers, tumblers, and jugglers. When the necessity for the Fair gradually ceased, the entertainments remained. Yet down to the ’ fifties, in the nineteenth century, among the booths there were always some which kept up the semblance of serious trade; between the toy-stalls and the gingerbread were booths of cheap books and booths of hosiery and clothing.

Let us go on to consider the conduct of the trade of London Port. And, first, as regards the English merchants. When trade begins, all the regulations of trade for its security, such as the enforcement of debts, the due carrying out of contracts and agreements, must begin at the same time. Hence there was created in every trading town an organised Chamber of Commerce, anciently called the Merchant Gild. Of this organisation I will speak in another place (see vol. ii. pt. i. ch. ix.). This Chamber or association of traders assumed, as possessed by Royal Charter, executive powers, it passed laws, regulated trade in every branch, ordered prices, received foreign merchants and cargoes from abroad, appointed the time of market, and punished offenders. The Gild may have exercised all these functions not only in a prehistoric but also in a non-historic manner. For in London we have no Merchant Gild ever spoken of.

Among the foreign traders are mentioned in the Liber Albus the Cologne merchants, the Hanse merchants, and merchants of Lorraine, Bavaria, Lemberg, Flanders, Antwerp, Bruges, Louvain, Perugia, Lucca, Lombardy, Tuscany, Spain, Portugal, Catalonia, Navarre, Provence, Aquitaine, Quercy, Gascony, Bordeaux, Genoa, and the Italian Societies of Frescobaldi and Morori. Liberties are also mentioned as being granted to the Merchants of Douay, Malines, and St. Omer; also to numerous cities and corporations in England; and allocations were granted to the citizens of Dublin and Cork.

All these merchants occupied their own houses, in which they were expected to live by themselves, not associating more than was necessary with the citizens, who, as far down as the nineteenth century, were wont to hustle and abuse any foreigner who ventured unprotected into the streets. The men of Germany had the Domus Teutonicorum, the Steelyard, where is now Cannon Street Terminus: the men of Bordeaux had the “Vintry”: the Flemings their own house near the Vintry. The history of the trade of London for five hundred years is largely composed of the jealousies and quarrels between the foreign merchants and the merchants of London.

In the year 1000, strangers from France, Normandy, Rome, Flanders, Liège, and the Emperor’s men, were permitted to trade at Billingsgate. In the twelfth century a fleet, carrying wine as its principal cargo from Germany, arrived at London once a year. It lay off the bank two ebbs and one flood. This means that the vessels came up the river with the flood, and lay off during the following ebb and one tide afterwards. During this time the men were not permitted to land, nor to sell their cargo. The King’s officers came on board and purchased what was wanted for the King’s use—gems, plate, tapestry, as well as wine. After this the traders were allowed to sell to merchants, but not to go to the open market nor to sell by retail. When they carried their wares on shore the Sheriff examined them, and they had to pay scavage, i.e. “showage.” They could sell for the space of forty days, after which they had to go away. But one suspects that the law was not administered with great strictness. Some things they were forbidden to buy, as lamb skins: and they were not to buy more than three live pigs!

In 1217, a convention was made between the merchants of London, Amiens, and other towns. Those of the convention were permitted to load and to unload, to warehouse in the City, and to sell to citizens, not to foreigners. In return they were to pay fifty marks a year to the Sheriffs. One of them might keep a hostel for a year, but not longer. They were not to take provisions out of the City. These foreigners contributed £100 towards the construction of a conduit from Tyburn into the City. Before this time, in 1194, Richard I. had granted to Cologne merchants the right to attend all Fairs “saving the franchise of the City of London.”

The expansion of trade and the creation of industries in England owed a great deal to the spirit of enterprise made possible, or even engendered, by the new municipal life of the towns. All over the country the towns asked for and obtained charters after the fashion of London. There are everywhere, up to the end of the thirteenth century, signs of activity and of prosperity: churches were rebuilt; bridges were thrown over rivers; walls were repaired; gates, wharves, aqueducts were constructed; new trading-ports arose such as Lynn, Sandwich, Southampton, for instance; new manufactures were started at Norwich, Worcester, Coventry, Leicester, Nottingham, Reading, and elsewhere; there are no complaints of poverty and misery; there is no Piers Plowman for London; the merchants are seen to be buying country estates; and whereas in the twelfth century England exported little besides her wool, in the fifteenth century there are entries of industry and manufactures everywhere. And for all these, London was the recipient and the distributor.

The Hanseatic League was in existence as far back as the eighth century. The members began to trade with London apparently very soon after that date, and were esteemed as merchants who introduced wares very useful and otherwise difficult to procure. In the reign of Ethelred, A.D. 979, the “men of the Emperor” were accounted worthy of “good laws.” They settled by the river-side, where they obtained a house near Dowgate. Either before or after their settlement the “men of Cologne” settled next to them. After disputes between the two Houses they were amalgamated and formed the Gildhalla Teutonicorum. Their merchandise consisted mainly of wheat, rye and other grain, cables, masts, pitch, tar, flax, hemp, linen cloth, wainscots, wax, steel, and other “profitable merchandize.” (Stow).

Not only the citizens of London but the country people looked on the aliens with hate. No royal proclamation was of avail to protect them against this hatred. Partly, no doubt, they were hated because they were foreigners; but mainly, it is certain, because they were monopolists and could charge what they pleased. Thus when Wat Tyler and his merry men held possession of the City they murdered all the foreign merchants, especially the Flemings, dragging them even from the altars. Chaucer says (Nonnes Prestes Tale):—

“Certes, he Jacke Strawe and his meynee

Ne made never shoutes half so shrille,

When that they wolden any Fleming kille,

As thilke day was made upon the fox.”

The Hanseatic League was most powerful: to it belonged all the important towns of North Germany, it had ships numbering hundreds, and controlled the whole trade of the Baltic, that is to say, of Scandinavia, Russia, Poland, and Germany, and exercised in England for its own purposes the influence which everywhere belongs to the purse. The members advanced money to the King on large interest; they got him out of his difficulties, for a consideration. Thus Edward III., in return for money advanced, let the Black Prince’s tin mines in Cornwall to the Germans; and, for the same consideration, he gave them a number of farms for a thousand years. One need not here follow the Gildhalla Teutonicorum and its various charters and privileges. It is sufficient to note that the continual wars of the English—civil wars, as in the reign of Stephen, Henry III., Edward II., Richard II., Henry VI., Edward IV. and Richard III.; foreign wars with Scotland and France; the repression of rebellion as in Ireland and in Wales—checked the growth of commercial enterprise and made it impossible for the English merchant to contend against the League. Yet when the Merchant Adventurers began, early in the fifteenth century, they attacked the Hanseatic trade in Norway and in Denmark and in Flanders. There was fierce resistance; in Bergen the English merchants were murdered; on the open sea the “Rovers” or pirates attacked and destroyed the English ships; the Hanseatics pillaged the English coasts. The English power at sea was unable to put down these acts of piracy or war. The King was obliged to invite the arbitration of Charles, Duke of Burgundy, who accorded to the English merchants the substantial benefit of trading in the Baltic, but restored to the League all their former privileges and more. This arbitration was called the Treaty of Utrecht. It remained in force till the final expulsion of the League a hundred years later.

The Gildhalla Teutonicorum or Steelyard covered a large area in the most crowded part of London. Its river front extended from Cousin Lane—a narrow lane close to Dowgate Dock on the west—to Allhallows Lane on the east; and from the river to Thames Street. This area contained about 110,000 square feet. It was surrounded by a strong wall; the chief building was a large hall called the Guildhall in which the merchants and their clerks took common meals; the north front looking on Thames Street possessed three arched gates, of which for greater security the two side gates were walled up. Above the three gates were the following inscriptions:—

(1) “Haec domus est laeta semper bonitate reputa:
Hic pax, hic requies, hic gaudia semper honesta.”
(2) “Aurum blanditiae frater est natusque doloris:
Qui caret hoc moeret, qui tenet hoc metuit.”
(3) “Qui bonis parere recusat, quasi vilato fumo in flammas cecidit.”

Grove and Boulton

THE STEELYARD, THAMES STREET

Another strong building was the residence of the Master overlooking the river. Between the two houses was the garden planted with fruit-trees and vines. Here later the merchants sold Rhenish wine. The quay, which extended along the river front, was provided with a large crane, and all the goods were landed on this quay. The life led by the residents was monastic in its character. They were unmarried; no women were allowed within the walls; cleanliness was strictly enforced; every man was bound to have a complete suit of armour; they were not allowed to fence or to play tennis with Englishmen, in order to avoid any occasion for a brawl; and at a certain hour the gates were closed. Disputes arose between the company of Merchant Adventurers and the Hanseatic merchants. In 1552, in the reign of Edward VI., the monopoly of the Hanseatic League was taken from them. The following is the entry made by King Edward VI. in the resolution of the Privy Council:—

“Feb. 23. A decree was made by the board, that, upon knowledge and information of their charters (those of the Stiliard), they had found: First, that they were no sufficient corporation; Secondarily, that, when they had forfeited their liberties, King Edward IV. did restore them on this condition, that they should colour no strangers’ goods (i.e. that they should pass no goods of other foreigners through the Customs as if they were their own), which (yet) they had done. Also, that, whereas in the beginning they shipped not past eighty cloths, after 100, after 1,000, after that 6,000, now in their names was shipped 14,000 cloths in one year, and but 1,100 of all other strangers. For these considerations sentence was given that they had forfeited their liberties, and were in like case with other strangers.”

They continued to trade like other foreign merchants until the year 1599, when Elizabeth ordered them to depart; yet many remained and became merged in the general population of London. At the time of the Great Fire the buildings were entirely destroyed; but the site still belonged to the merchants, who obtained a charter from Charles II. “granting permission to erect a church for themselves on a spot where one had formerly stood.” What was that church? It was not Allhallows the Great, which was rebuilt out of the coal dues. Nor Allhallows the Less, which was never rebuilt. Perhaps there was a chapel within their walls which these pious merchants desired to restore; but they never carried out that laudable intention. It was resolved in 1599 that the House should be taken from them and converted into an office for the Queen’s Navy. Yet in 1666 we find that the site still belongs to them. The two statements are difficult to reconcile.

But there were other foreign merchants besides the Hansards. The men of Genoa had privileges. Bordeaux sent fleets containing wine; Rochelle sent wine; Lorraine sent also an annual fleet containing wine; there were ships from Genoa and Venice. Whatever they brought, they carried away wool. England paid her Peter’s Pence in wool; she paid for everything that she bought of these merchants in wool.

As regards the trading fleets, consider the “Flanders Fleet” of Venice. This splendidly organised merchant service consisted of a large number of galleys, each manned by 180 oarsmen not apparently slaves, but Sclavonians who had their own fraternity at Southampton: each ship had also on board thirty archers well equipped for purposes of defence. This fleet, which was first sent out in 1307, “visited Syracuse, Majorca, the coasts of Spain and Portugal, and proceeded thence to England and to the low countries.” They did not always call at London, but always at Southampton, which was their chief port in England. There still remains at the church of North Stoneham a stone marking the burial-place of certain Sclavonian oarsmen who died while at Southampton. “Sepultura de la Schola de Sclavoni” (Cunningham). Arrived at the Downs the fleet broke up and repaired to London, Rye, Winchelsea, Sandwich, and other places.

The Italian Quarter in London was near the Tower. These Italians, men of Pisa, Lucca, Genoa, and Venice, were called “Galleys men” because they came up the river in galleys, and the quay where they landed their wines and other merchandise was Galley Quay. Stow says:—

“In this lane of old time dwelt divers strangers, born of Genoa and those parts; these were commonly called galley men, as men that came up in the galleys brought up wines and other merchandise, which they landed in Thames St. at a place called Galley key: they had a certain coin of silver amongst themselves, which were halfpence of Genoa and were called Galley halfpence: these halfpence were forbidden in the 13th of Henry IV., and again by Parliament in the 4th of Henry V. It was, that if any person bring into this realm halfpence, suskinges, or dodkins, he should be punished as a thief: and he that taketh or payeth such money shall lose a hundred shillings, whereof the king shall have the one half, and he that will sue the other half. Notwithstanding in my youth, I have seen them pass current, but with some difficulty, for that the English halfpence were then, though not so broad, somewhat thicker and stronger.” (Survey, Book II.)

In the year 1353 Edward III. sent a Royal Injunction to the Mayor and Sheriffs concerning two Genoese, named Francisco of Genoa, and Panimo Guilliemi servant of Francisco de Spinola of Genoa. These foreigners had opened a wine-shop consisting of two cellars, in one of which was stored red and white wine, and in the other sweet wine (of Sicily, Crete, Cyprus, Gaza, etc.). The City officers, fearing that these foreigners would mix the wine, which was supposed to be extremely prejudicial to health, made them shut their shop, and the Mayor took the oath of the two men that they would not mix the sweet and the white wine, before he suffered them to continue in their trade.

The Flemings were always in closer commercial relation with London than any other nation. They were the greatest buyers of wool; they came over here to settle first when William the Conqueror’s Queen protected them; next, on the invitation of Edward III. The Weald of Kent was full of wealthy Flemings in the fifteenth century; it is probable that Caxton in his boyhood spoke Flemish as well as English, because he was born in the Weald; and though these men remained among us for many generations they did not become English. They were considered hard in their money dealings; it was against their honour and good name that the famous “Stews” were peopled with Flemish women; and when Jack Straw’s rebels held the City, one of the first things they did was to murder the Flemings.

There is another point of view from which we may consider the foreign element of London, that of the so-called Caursini. The origin of the name is generally assumed to be the town of Cahors. But why the Italians of London should be called natives of Cahors is not easy to understand. When merchants of Cahors are mentioned it is never in connection with the great financial operations conducted by the Italians, nor have the Caursini, mentioned in contemporary documents, any connection at all with the city of Cahors. Another, and perhaps a more likely derivation, is from an Italian family called Caursini. It should be noted also that Matthew Paris in the curious specimen of a deed or agreement between these merchants and a certain Religious House calls them “of the City of ...” not mentioning Cahors. In another place he distinctly calls them Transalpines.

The Italians came to London in the reign of King John, not as traders, but as agents for the collection of the Papal revenue, especially that part of it which was contributed, very much against their will, by the Religious Houses. They came chiefly from Sienna, Lucca, and Florence. They were members of trading companies, apparently of the joint stock kind, of which all the substantial citizens of the flourishing towns of Lombardy were members and shareholders, or fellow adventurers.

Their work as Papal agents was very soon supplemented by financial operations on their own account. They became in communication with the monasteries, not only on account of the Pope’s exactions, but also in connection with the sale of wool, which constituted the chief wealth of the Religious. They were able to give a higher price than could be obtained from other merchants. They could advance money for the building which was continually going on in the monasteries. When a House had to send representatives to Rome the Caursini gave them letters of credit which enabled them to bribe the officers of the Papal courts.

But—a fact of far greater importance—their resources, which seemed practically inexhaustible, enabled them to supply money to the English Kings for nearly two hundred years.

They lent money at high rates of interest; but, as usury was forbidden by the Church, and a thing hateful and in bad repute, they disguised the real nature of their transactions. The actual money advanced was repaid without any interest; but the lender was paid by various arrangements called by different names, but all meaning the same thing, though of course there was no affectation of not understanding the true nature of the transaction. The Italians were regarded, especially by ecclesiastics, with detestation. Matthew Paris says of them:—

“In these days prevailed the horrible nuisance of the Caursines, to such a degree that there was hardly any one in all England, especially among the bishops, who was not caught in their net. Even the King himself was held indebted to them in an incalculable sum of money. For they circumvented the needy in their necessities, cloaking their usury under the show of trade, and pretending not to know that whatever is added to the principal is usury, under whatever name it may be called. For it is manifest that their loans lie not in the path of charity, inasmuch as they do not hold out a helping hand to the poor to relieve them, but to deceive them; not to aid others in their starvation, but to gratify their own covetousness.” (Giles’s translation.)

He gives also a specimen of their ordinary form of agreement:—

“To all who shall see the present writings—the Prior and Convent of .... Health in the Lord.... Be it known to you that we have received on loan, at London, for the purpose of usefully settling matters concerning us and our church, from such an one, and such an one, for themselves and their partners, citizens and merchants of the city of ..., 104 marks of good and lawful money sterling, each mark being computed at 13 shillings and 4 pence sterling. For which 104 marks, we, in our own name and in the name of our church, do declare that we are quit, and do protest that we are fully paid, altogether renouncing any exception of the money not being reckoned, and paid, and handed over to us, and also the exception that the said money has not been converted to our own uses and to the uses of our church. And the aforesaid one hundred and four marks sterling, in the manner and to the number aforesaid, to be reckoned to the said merchants, or to one of them, or to their certain emissary, who shall bring with him these present letters, on the feast of St. Peter ad Vincula, namely, the first day of the month of August, at the New Temple, London, in the year of our Lord’s incarnation one thousand two hundred and thirty-five, we promise by lawful covenant, and bind ourselves, in our own name and in that of our church, that we will pay and discharge in full. Adding moreover this condition, that if the aforesaid money shall not be paid and discharged at the place and term aforesaid, as has been said, we promise from that time, at the term always before completed, and bind ourselves by the same covenant, to give and render to the aforesaid merchants, or their certain emissary, every two months, for every ten marks, one mark of the said money, in recompense for losses, which losses and expenses these merchants might incur or receive therefrom, so that the losses and expenses and principal may effectually be claimed, as they have been stated above, and the expenses of one merchant, with one horse and one servant, wherever the merchant shall be, until the full payment of all the aforesaid. And the expenses incurred and to be incurred, for recovering the same money, we will render and restore to the same merchants, or one of them, or their certain emissary. Which recompense for losses, interest, and expenses, we promise the said merchants in no wise shall be reckoned towards the principal of the said debt; and not to keep back the said debt under pretence of the above-mentioned recompense, against the will of the aforesaid merchants, beyond the term aforesaid. For all which articles aforesaid, firmly and wholly to be fulfilled, and inviolably to be observed, we bind ourselves and our church, and our successors, and all our goods and those of our church, movable and immovable, ecclesiastical and temporal, in possession and hereafter to be in possession, wherever they shall be found, to the said merchants and their heirs, until the full payment of all the aforesaid; which goods we hereby recognise that we possess from them by a precarious tenure. And we consent on all the aforesaid to be convened in all places, and before any tribunal, and do renounce, for all the aforesaid for ourselves and our successors, all the aid of law, both canon and civil, the privilege both of clerkship and of court, the letter of Saint Adrian, every custom and statute, all letters, indulgences, and privileges obtained, or to be hereafter obtained from the Apostolic See for the King of England and all the people of his kingdom, the constitution De duabus dietis, the benefit of full repayment, the benefit of appeal and of recusation, the inhibitory letters of the King of England, and all other exception, real and personal, which might be objected against this instrument or deed. All these things we promise faithfully shall be observed. In testimony of which matter we have thought it right to affix our seals to this present writing. Done on the fifth day of Elphege, in the year of grace MCCXXXV.”—(Matthew Paris, Giles’s translation, pp. 2-4.)

The rate of interest, it will be seen, was 60 per cent per annum.

In that same year—1235—the Bishop of London “perceiving that the Caursines openly multiplied their usury without shame and led a most filthy life, harassing the Religious with various injuries and amassing heaps of riches from the numbers who were forced to submit to their yoke,” arose and admonished them to desist from their practices and to do penance for their misdeeds. But what is a Bishop of London compared with the Pope of Rome? The Caursini laughed at the Bishop; they appealed to Rome; they procured an order that the Bishop, then old and ill, should repair to Rome with his complaints. The Bishop, therefore, said no more.

In the year 1251, proceedings were taken against some of them. They have the air of being a concession to popular prejudice, and also as a means of raising money for the King.

Again, to quote Matthew Paris:—

“The Transalpine usurers whom we call Caursins were so multiplied and became so rich that they built noble palaces for themselves at London, and determined to take up a permanent abode there, like the native-born citizens; and the prelates did not dare to murmur, as they, the Caursins, asserted that they were the agents of the Pope; nor did the citizens dare to express their discontent, as these men were protected by the favour of certain nobles, whose money, as was reported, they put out to amass interest after the fashion of the Roman Court. However, about this time, by the wish and instrumentality of the King, heavy accusations were made against them in the civil courts, and were brought to trial before a judge, and whilst some one in London sat as judge on the part of the King, who accused them, they were charged with being schismatics, heretics, and guilty of treason against the King, because, although they professed themselves Christians, they had most evidently polluted the kingdom of England with their base trade of usury; at which the most Christian King complained that he was deeply wounded in conscience, as he had sworn to preserve uninjured the holy institutes of the Church. As the Caursins could not deny the charge, some of them were seized and committed to prison, and others concealed themselves in out-of-the-way places. At this proceeding the Jews were rejoiced, as they had now participators in their state of slavery. At length, however, by the payment of a large sum of money, these Caursins, the rivals of the Jews, were allowed to be at peace for a time. One of them had told me, the writer of this work, of these matters, and declared on his oath, that if they had not built these costly houses at London, scarcely one of them would have remained in England.”

THE MERCHANT
From the Ellesmere MS. of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales.

The methods of repayment by the King were various. The creditors received a bill upon the Exchequer or the Keeper of the Wardrobe; an assignment of a branch of the revenue—thus 27 Ed. I., the whole revenues of Ireland were assigned to the Frescobaldi of Florence in payment of a loan of £11,000; or the proceeds of a subsidy were given—thus 8 Ed. I., the proceeds of a fifteenth were assigned to the Italian merchants; or they took over the customs; or they received an addition to the principal large communal privileges; or they received offices of dignity and profit: they collected the customs; they took charge of the Mint; they were ambassadors. In the year 1294 there were twelve Florentines holding the title of ambassadors from throne states of Europe.

Among the companies which lent money to English kings in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries were the Muzzi of Florence, the Company of Jacopo Brabazen of Sienna, the Bardi of Florence, the Ammanati of Pistoia, the Circuli Nerci and the Circuli Bianche of Florence, the Company of the Sons of Beccori of Lucca, the Palci of Florence, the Riccardi of Lucca, the Spini of Florence, the Company of Bestre of Lucca, the Scali of Florence and the Peruzzi of Florence, besides the Frescobaldi of Florence already mentioned. (See Appendix III.)

Enormous sums were advanced by these companies and repaid, during these two centuries. In 1254 Henry III. was called upon by the Pope to pay the sum of 130,541 marks sterling for expenses connected with the business of Sicily. Between the years 1295 and 1309 the Frescobaldi received of Edward I. and Edward II. the sum of £100,000. On the accession of Edward II. he had to pay, on account of his father’s debts, the sum of £118,000 and on his own account £28,000.

If, however, the Italians made immense profits out of the English kings retribution fell upon them, because the English King caused their ruin. Giovanni Villani tells the story:—

“At the period of the war between the kings of France and England, the companies of the Bardi and Peruzzi, of Florence, were the King of England’s merchants. All his revenues and wools came into their hands, and they furnished from them all his expenses. But the expenses so much exceeded the revenues that the King of England, when he returned home from the war, found himself indebted for principal, assignments, and rewards, to the Bardi more than 100,000 marks sterling, and to the Peruzzi more than 135,000 marks. Of these sums a considerable portion consisted in assignments which the King had made to them in times passed: but they were rash enough, whether from covet of gain or led on by the hope of recovering the entire debt, to give them up, and entrust all their own property and that of others in their keeping, to this one prince. And observe, that a large part of the money they had lent was not their own capital, but had been borrowed by them or received on trust from fellow-citizens and strangers. And great danger thence accrued both to them and to the city of Florence. For not being able to answer the calls of their creditors in England and Florence, and elsewhere, where they trafficked, they lost their credit on all sides, and became bankrupts; and especially the Peruzzi. Yet they avoided complete ruin by their possessions in the city and territory of Florence, and by the great power and rank which they held in the republic. This failure, and the expenses of the state in Lombardy, greatly reduced the wealth and condition of the merchants and traders of Florence, and of the whole community. For the Bardi and Peruzzi had held so large a share of the commerce of Christendom, that upon their fall every other merchant was suspected and distrusted. Our city of Florence, in consequence, received a shock, such as had not been experienced before for many years. But, to add to the reverses of these companies, the King of France caused them and other Florentines throughout his dominions to be pillaged of all their merchandise and property, both on account of the bankruptcy and because we had been obliged to borrow money of his subjects, to expend on our affairs in Lombardy and Lucca: and this caused the ruin of many other smaller companies of Florence, as we shall afterwards make mention.” (Archæologia, XXVII.-XXVIII. pp. 259-260.)

The power of the Caursini thus received a check from which it never recovered. Italian merchants, however, continued to reside in London, and to trade there. A curious story is told by Thomas of Walsingham, and repeated by Stow, of a Genoese merchant resident in the City. He is said to have proposed that if the King would erect a castle at Southampton, he would make that place the principal Port in the Kingdom, and the resort of foreign merchants from all parts. Some of the merchants of London, however, apprehensive of their own interests, caused the unfortunate Genoese to be murdered—for which crime one of them, John Kirby, was executed.

One more story, of a later period, illustrates the still lingering hatred of the Italians. I give the story in the words of Stow:—

“In the moneth of Maye, an Italians servaunte walkyng throughe Cheape of London, wyth a dagger hangyng at hys gyrdle, a Merchauntes servaunt that before tyme had bin in Italy and there blamed for wearing of the like weapon, chalenged the straunger, howe hee durst be so bolde to beare weapon, consydering he was out of hys Countrey, knowyng that in hys Countrey no straunger was suffered to wear the like. To the which question such answere was made by the straunger, that the Mercer toke from him hys dagger and brake it upon his heade, whereupon the stranger complayned to the Maior, who on the morrow sent for the yong man to the Guilde Hall: wherfore after his aunswere made unto the complaynt, by agreemente of a full Courte of Aldermen, he was sent to ward, and after the Court was finished, the Maior and Sherifes walking homewarde thoroughe Cheape, were there mette by suche a number of Mercers servauntes and other, that they mighte not passe, for ought they coulde speake or doe, till they hadde delivered the young manne that before was by them sente to prison. And the same daye in the afternoone sodainely was assembled a multitude of lewde and pore people of the City, which without heade or guide ranne unto certaine Italians houses, and especially to the Florentines, Lukesses and Venetians, and there toke and spoyled what they found, and dyd great hurt in sundry places, but moste in foure houses standing in Breadstreete warde, whereof three stoode in Saint Bartholmewes Parishe the little, and one in the Parish of Saint Benits Finke. The Maior, Aldermen and worshipful Commoners of the Citie, with all theyr diligence resisted them what they coulde, and sente diverse of them to Newegate: and fynallye, not without shedding of bloude and mayming of diverse Citizens, the rumour was appeased. The yong manne beginner of all thys businesse, tooke Sanctuarie at Westminster, and not long after the Duke of Buckingham with other noble menne were sente from the kyng into the Cytie, who there charged the Maior by Vertue of a Commission, that inquirie shoulde bee made of thys ryot, and so called an Dyer determyner at the Guilde Hall, where satte for Judges the Maior, as the kyngs Lieuetenaunte, the Duke of Buckingham on hys ryghte hande, the chiefe Justice on the lefte hande, and manye other men of name, where whyle they were enpanelyng theyr inquestes, the other Commons of the Citie manye of them secretly putte them in armour, and ment to have roong the common bell, so to have raysed the whole force of the Citie, and to so have delivered such persons as before for the robberie were committed to ward. But this matter was discretely handled by the counsel and labour of some discrete Commoners, which appeased their neighbours in such wise, that all this furie was quenched: but when worde was brought to the Duke of Buckingham, that the commonaltie were in harnesse, he with the other Lordes tooke leaue of the Maior and departed, and so ceased the inquirie for that day. Upon the morrow the Maior commaunded the common Counsell with the Wardens of fellowships to appeare at the Guild Hall, where by the Recorder in the King’s name and the Maior’s, was commaunded every Warden, that in the afternoone eyther of them should assemble his whole fellowship at their common Halles, and there to give straight commaundement, that every man see the king’s peace kept within the Citie. After which time the Citizens were brought to such quietnesse, that after that day, the enquirie was duly perused, and iij persons for the said ryot put in execution and hanged at Tyborne, whereof ij were Sanctuarie men of Saint Martins le graunde, the other a shipman, for robbing of Anthony Mowricine and other Lumbardes.” (Stow’s Chronicle.)

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[CHAPTER III]
TRADE AND GENTILITY

The popular imagination has always presented the City of London as paved with gold; the popular tradition has always delighted to present the rise of the humble village boy from the poor apprentice to the rich merchant, Alderman, and Mayor. In London itself this tradition did not exist, because it was known to be absurd. The honours open to the young craftsman were those obtained by valour on the field of battle. I do not think, however, that the traditional rise of the humble village boy is more than two hundred years old. It began at a time when the ancient connection of the City and the country had been severed, for reasons which are treated in another place. There has always been a perennial stream of immigration into the City; this is proved by the ancient jealousy with which the people regarded the intrusion into their trades of “foreigners,” meaning not only Flemings, French, and people generally of other nations, but men from the country, who were not freemen or members of any company. This stream consisted almost entirely of sons of the country gentry, because the humbler kind could only get away from their villages by running away. As regards the former, their choice of a profession was limited; they might attach themselves to the service of some great noble—how many younger sons were thrown upon the world when Warwick fell? how many when Wolsey was disgraced? They might follow the King on his wars—thus rose Owen Tudor, whose own father was a simple gentleman, if he was so much, in the service of the Bishop of Chester. They might obtain some place at Court or in one of the King’s houses. Thus, in the sixteenth century, on a feud arising between the Forsters and the Fenwicks of Northumberland, one of the Forsters found it expedient to change his native air, which had become dangerous. He fled south; he made the acquaintance of Henry Carey, who was keeper of Hunsdon House, then a royal Palace, and was appointed Yeoman—i.e. Head or Chief of one of the Departments; his son became a Judge; his grandson Lord Chief Justice. Again, he might enter a monastery—one of Owen Tudor’s sons entered the Benedictine House of Westminster. He might remain in his own country as bailiff or steward; he might become a lawyer—it would be interesting to learn how the Inns of Court were recruited; or, lastly, he might go up to London and be apprenticed to one of the great companies.

I have long been of opinion that the last line was far more common than is generally understood. Until recently, however, I have not been able to establish my theory that the connection between the country and the City was close, continuous, and widespread; that the younger sons were sent up to the City as they are now sent into the Army, for a career considered both honourable and profitable. If this theory can be maintained, it is quite obvious that the importance of London in the eyes of the country must have been very much greater than is generally understood: its political weight must have been much more than has hitherto been allowed, and its dignity and the dignity of its chief offices must be in a corresponding degree enhanced. It was not by men who had been humble village boys that great offices in the City were filled, but by men of gentility and of good connections. This theory, if it is well founded, will also show why London has never created an hereditary aristocracy of her own; why, in a word, London never became a Venice or a Genoa. The leaders among the citizens always, according to my view, were connected with brothers and cousins over the whole of the country; and when the great nobles rode up to their town houses with their following of hundreds, all gentlemen, they entered a City containing their own people, their own cousins, living in Palaces equal to their own; apparelled in the robes of authority and with the gold chains of power and of dignity.

Thus, I find groups of families from this or that county—the Fitzwarrens of Devon and Somerset with their cousins the Whittingtons of Somerset and Gloucester; the Chicheles, Northampton; the Brembres, Philpots, and Sevenokes from Kent; the Greshams, Bacons, Boleyns, and Banhams from Norfolk; and this indicates not only that many country families were connected with the City, but that there were groups of families, cousins near or far, which habitually sent up their boys to London. But more direct proofs are necessary to establish what, I feel certain, was the case, that this connection was widespread and even general; that a younger son of a gentle family, from the fourteenth to the seventeenth century at least, regarded trade in the City as a desirable and honourable profession. I do not think that this was the case after the middle of the seventeenth century. One of the latest instances, indeed, of the country gentleman’s son being sent up to town and made an apprentice is that of Gibbon’s grandfather.

There are, however, many other facts which point in the same direction:—

1. The separation of the distributing and wholesale companies from the crafts of the working Companies; the position of authority and power held by the former; the jealousy with which apprentices were admitted into their bodies; the honours bestowed upon their members by the sovereign; the responsible offices entrusted to them—one, for instance, was made Mayor of Bordeaux, another the representative of the King in the Low Countries. These dignities were not open to mechanics and persons whose fingers were “blue.”

2. The rapid increase in the fee required of the apprentice. It was at first a few shillings. Then for shillings they read pounds. Next they required a property qualification, upon which, however, they did not long insist. In the time of James I. the fee had risen to £20; it was afterwards raised to £100 and even to £500. What craftsman—what village boy—what mechanic—could raise, think you, a fee of even £10—which means in our money perhaps £300?

3. The practice in the craft companies of admitting two kinds of apprentices—those who would be received into the trade as master, and those as journeyman. In the latter case the boy was sometimes made to swear that he would not attempt to set up as a master on his own account; he could not, as a rule, hope to do so, for the same reason that keeps a journeyman in his place to this day: the want of capital and credit. However, the distinction between master and journeyman was sharply drawn and jealously maintained. Yet the master must know his trade, otherwise he could not superintend it. It is true that there were small masters who worked with their own hands.

4. In Remembrancia (1579-1664) there are notes on 119 Mayors, Aldermen, Sheriffs, and City Officers. Of these the largest number are sons of country gentlemen. Thus we have:

From the Country
Sons of Gentlemen	59
Born in London
Sons of City Merchants	16
From the Country
Apparently of poor parents	5
Parentage not stated	39
	119

5. Another point is the very significant fact that the admiration of the people was not bestowed, as we might expect, on the rich and successful merchant, but upon the fighting man. The hero of the London apprentice was not the Lord Mayor, nor one of the Aldermen, nor the poor lad who became the rich trader, nor the merchant who owned ships and lent money to kings; his hero was the London youth who went forth to fight, and came home a knight.

I have before me a certain book of the year 1590, called The Nine Worthies of London. You would expect to find Thomas à Becket, Whittington, Chichele, Caxton, Gresham, among these worthies. You would expect to find that stout old radical, William Longbeard, among them. You would be quite wrong. Not one of these worthies was remembered. Thomas à Becket, the protecting saint of London—their own saint—a member, almost, of the Mercers’ Company, was completely forgotten. None of the others did the people care to remember. They remembered, as I have said, only those who had gone out to fight. One London ’prentice had the honour of fighting for a whole hour with the Dauphin of France; another was knighted on the field by Edward the Black Prince, and came home to marry his master’s daughter—her name was Doll; a third slew a wild boar in Poland; and so on.

There is additional proof that the greater number—by far the greater number—of the citizens constituting the principal companies, together with many of those representing the former kind of apprentice, were gentlefolk—armigeri—belonging to what we should call county families.

THE KNIGHT
From the Ellesmere M.S. of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales.

In the Edition, or the Continuator, of Stow, published by “A. M.—H. D., and others,” in the year 1633, the arms of all the Mayors of London from Henry Fitz Aylwin to that year are given. With the arms is added a note of the origin and parentage of the Mayors, one by one.

Let me take the latter first. What do we find when we analyse these returns? I divide the analysis into three heads. First, that of the Mayors whose parents lived in the country, where they were born; next, those who were born in London; thirdly, those who were born in other towns.

There are 203 Mayors thus accounted for in 210 years. Re-elections and obscurity of birth account for the missing seven years:—

1. Of those who were born in the country there are	156
2. Of those who were born in London there are	34
3. Of those who came from other towns there are	13.

Out of 203 citizens who achieved the position of Mayor, 156 came from the country. These figures are very remarkable. Actually 77 per cent of the citizens who rose to the highest honours were born in the country. If the same proportion was observed among all the masters, there were 77 per cent of those who were the merchant adventurers, wholesale dealers, importers, exporters, and what we should now call the heads of firms, capitalists, and employers of labour, in the City, who were immigrants born in the country. I would not, however, insist on the latter proportion, for the simple reason that the country lad has generally shown more ability than the son of the wealthy townsman, and this, not because he was born and bred in the country, but because the son of the Alderman is prone to believe that wealth comes of its own accord, not understanding his father’s early struggles, while the country lad understands that Fortune helps those who help themselves. If we make a large deduction on this ground, we may fairly admit that fully 50 per cent of the merchants came from the country.

Look a little more closely into the accompaniments of this fact. What is meant by coming from the country? A village of the fourteenth century contained the Lord of the Manor, the Priest, and the tenantry, hinds, or cultivators of the soil, with such craftsmen as were necessary for agriculture. Now it was absolutely impossible for one of the latter class to find the apprentice fee for a great company or even the journeyman apprentice fees for a craft company. If he could, none of the great companies would admit the son of a hind. And in the craft companies there was always the greatest unwillingness among the craftsmen of London to admit outsiders at all. The Priest, after the fourteenth century, was presumably childless, the old custom of marriage or concubinage being gradually repressed. The Lord of the Manor remained. He knew that the City offered the chance of fortune and rank; he knew that his neighbours, his cousins, his friends, had sent their boys up to the City; he could learn from them how to find a master for his boy, what fees he would pay, how to get him introductions, a company, and a career.

But since a very small number of those yearly apprenticed could rise to the City offices, we may assume that for every Mayor there were hundreds of apprentices, and we may conclude with absolute certainty that it was not an uncommon thing, but a well-recognised and widely-spread practice, for country lads to be sent to London, and that these country lads were sons of country gentlemen. And this properly understood, we understand also why London never for a moment thought of separating herself from the country, and why London, in the truest sense of the word, was always the very heart of England.

If it be asked why these young fellows were always welcomed in London, the answer is ready. First, they came to their relations as the two sons of John Chichele came to their cousins, as Whittington came to his. Next, the great City had then, as it has now, the custom of devouring her children; it must always be recruited with fresh blood; in his energy and strength, stimulated by his poverty and his resolution and his ambition, the country lad easily rises above the Londoner of the second generation, and in his turn produces boys who lack their father’s stimulus, even when they inherit their father’s strength; they cannot compete with the boy from the country.

COURT OF KING’S BENCH. TEMP. HENRY VI.
From an illumination of the fifteenth century.

In London at this day, in every great town, in every little town, even, the same rapid rise, the same decline and fall, of the middle class goes on perpetually. The successful man has died; the sons throw away or lose what their fathers gained. Look for them in the third generation; they are gone; they are lost in the huge flood of the unknown, the unfortunate, the incapable, the obscure. Perhaps after many generations one may again emerge; he will be ignorant of the past, he will begin a family anew—I please myself when I look down the City lists with thinking that Robert Besaunt, Sheriff in 1195, was perhaps my own ancestor: a theory for which there is no proof at all; the very tradition of that descent, if it is a descent, has long been lost. What has become of the three-and-twenty generations between him and me? I know not; for six hundred years they have been unknown outside the village, outside the town, where they were born, and the nameless mounds that covered their bones have long since been levelled with the grass around, like those of the descendants of Orgar the Proud, Henry of London Stone, the Bukerels, the Hardels, the Haverels, and the Buccointes.