CHAPTER I

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[Illustration: CHARLES I (1600–1649)

From the painting by van Dyck in the National Gallery, London.]

LONDON

IN THE TIME OF THE STUARTS

BY

SIR WALTER BESANT

[Illustration]

LONDON

ADAM & CHARLES BLACK

1903

PREFACE

Abundant as is the mass of material for the study of history and

manners in the sixteenth century,[1] there is even a greater abundance

for the history, political and social, of the century of the Stuarts.

There are, however, two difficulties to be faced in such an inquiry.

The first is that the history of London is far more closely connected

with the history of the nation during the seventeenth than during the

sixteenth century. It may, indeed, be advanced that at no time, not

even when London deposed Richard II. and set up Henry IV., was the City

so closely involved in all the events of the time as in the seventeenth

century. The City at that time reached the highest point of its

political importance, an importance which vanished in the century that

followed.

Therefore the historian of London has before him the broad fact that

for sixty years, viz. from the accession of Charles I. to the expulsion

of James II., he should be pursuing the history of the country. In

this place, however, there is not space for such a history; it has

already been well told by many historians; and I have neither the time

nor the competence to write the history of this most eventful period.

I have therefore found it necessary to assume a certain knowledge

of events and to speak of their sequence with reference especially

to the attitude of the City; the forces which acted on the people;

their ideas; their resolution and tenacity under Charles I.; their

servility and obedience under Charles II.; and their final rejection

of the doctrines of passive resistance, Divine right, and obedience

which made the departure of James possible, and opened the door for

constitutional government and the liberties of the people.

The second difficulty is, that while the century contains an

immense mass of material in the shape of plays, poems, fiction,

pamphlets, sermons, travels, sketches, biographies, trials, reports,

proclamations, ordinances, speeches, and every other conceivable

document for the restoration of the century, the period was sharply

divided into two by the Civil Wars and the Protectorate, the latter

being at best a stop-gap, while events were following each other and

the mind of the nation was developing. It was, in fact, a revolutionary

change which took place. The change was deepened by the Great Fire of

1666, after which a new London arose, not so picturesque, perhaps,

as the former London, but reflecting the ideas of the time in its

churches, which, from Mass houses became preaching rooms; and in

its houses, which offered substantial comfort, more light, loftier

rooms, standing in wider and better ordered streets, agreeing with

the increase of wealth and the improvement in the general conditions

of life. The first half of the century is, in fact, a continuation of

the Elizabethan period with decay in literature and development in

religion; the second half belongs to the eighteenth century, where we

find a development of the last forty years of the seventeenth.

I have endeavoured to meet this difficulty by making such a selection

from the things belonging to the daily life as have not been dwelt upon

in the study of the sixteenth century with those points which, while

they were developed or dropped in the eighteenth, have not been in that

volume considered at length.

The events of the greatest importance to the City, apart from those

which belong to the whole nation, were the repeated visitations of

Plague, and the Great Fire. The former came and went; it destroyed

the people, chiefly the common people, by thousands; its immediate

effect was a dearth of craftsmen and servants, a rise in wages, and an

improvement in the standard of life in the lower levels. The lessons

which it taught and continually enforced were learned most imperfectly.

They were simple—the admission into the courts and lanes of the crowded

City of light and air; the invention of some system of sanitation

which would replace the old cesspool and the public latrine; and the

introduction of a plentiful supply of water for the washing of the

people, as well as for their drink and for the flooding of the streets.

Somewhere or other—it must be between Dowgate and Mincing Lane—there is

still existing under ground the great Roman Cloaca; it is an additional

proof of the desertion and desolation of the City after the Romans went

away that the Cloaca was forgotten, choked up, and its mouth covered

over; the creation of the foreshore covered it up. Had it been found,

say, in the thirteenth or fourteenth century, the whole modern sanitary

system might have been invented and developed by its means, and so the

Plague would have been stayed. I have attempted to present an adequate

account of the Plague from contemporary evidence. As regards the Fire I

have essayed a restoration of the City before and after that event.

Turning to events political, I have already stated the difficulties

which confront the historian of London in this century. The reader

will not look here for a detailed history of the Civil War or the

Protectorate. I hope, however, that he will find some indication of

the way in which the people of London regarded the events which were

working out their redemption for them, in ways which were unexpected,

by trials which were hard to bear, and after a time when all seemed

lost.

Considering London alone, the Restoration seems to me to have been

a natural, a wholesome, and a most fortunate reaction against the

successive rule of Presbyterian, Independent, and Captain or Colonel.

It must have become quite clear even to men like Milton, who was one

of the last to lift his voice against the return of a king, that a

Commonwealth was too far in advance of the people, and that a military

despotism was intolerable.

In the same way the Revolution was a swing back of the pendulum; it was

quite as natural and as salutary as the rebellion against Charles and

the Restoration of his son. I read this lesson clearly in the history

of London, and I assume it for the history of the country.

Meantime let it be remembered that the seventeenth century secured the

country for two hundred years, _i.e._ to the present day at least,

and, so far as can be prophesied, for an indefinite period yet to come,

from the personal interference of the sovereign. That is an enormous

gain to the country. We are no longer called upon to discuss the

Prerogative. The attempted encroachments of George III. appear as mere

trifles compared with the monstrous claims of Charles the First and the

almost incredible acts of tyranny recorded of his son and successor.

And in the achievement of this great result London in the seventeenth

century played a noble part and earned the deepest gratitude of all

those who came, or shall come, after.

WALTER BESANT.

CONTENTS

STUART SOVEREIGNS

CHAP. PAGE

1. JAMES I. 3

2. CHARLES I. 22

3. THE CITY AND THE CIVIL WAR 53

4. THE COMMONWEALTH 64

5. THE RESTORATION 74

6. THE REIGN 82

7. JAMES II. 103

8. WILLIAM III. 117

9. QUEEN ANNE 127

RELIGION, GOVERNMENT, AND TRADE

1. RELIGION 137

2. THE CHURCH AND DISSENT 154

3. SUPERSTITIONS 159

4. SANCTUARY 168

5. CITY GOVERNMENT AND USAGES 172

6. TRADE 190

7. IRISH ESTATES 206

THE GREAT PLAGUE AND FIRE

1. THE PLAGUE 215

2. PLAGUE AND MEDICINE 233

3. ASPECT OF THE CITY BEFORE THE FIRE 240

4. THE FIRE OF LONDON 244

5. CONTEMPORARY EVIDENCE 258

6. LONDON AFTER THE FIRE 269

MANNERS AND CUSTOMS

1. FOOD AND DRINK 287

2. DRESS AND MANNERS 298

3. WEDDINGS AND FUNERALS 308

4. PLACES OF RESORT 311

5. THEATRE AND ART 318

6. SPORT AND AMUSEMENTS 328

7. COACHES 338

8. PUNISHMENT AND CRIME 345

9. PUBLIC MORALITY 355

10. GENERAL NOTES 359

APPENDICES

1. THE COURT 365

2. LIST OF LONDON CLERGY EJECTED 371

3. ALMSHOUSES 374

4. COMPOSITION OF THE LORDS AND COMMONS 376

5. ENLARGEMENT OF THE STREETS 377

6. THE NEW BUILDINGS OF LONDON 380

7. GARDENS 383

INDEX 387

KEY TO OGILBY AND MORGAN’S MAP OF LONDON, 1677 397

ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

Charles I. _Frontispiece_

James I. 3

Triumphal Arch erected at the time of the Coronation of James I. 4

The Gunpowder Conspirators 7

Gunpowder Treason 8

King James I. Entertaining the Spanish Ambassador at Whitehall 10

Henry, Prince of Wales 11

A Facsimile of the Order for the Burning of the Book of Sports 14

The Destruction of Cheapside Cross and the Burning of the Book

of Sports 16

Charles I. 22

Cheapside—Queen Henrietta Maria’s Entry into London 23

Henrietta Maria 26

George Villiers, First Duke (Second Creation) of Buckingham 30

King Charles I. Thrown Overboard 36

“England’s Miraculous Preservation Emblematically Described” 38

“The True Maner of the Execution of Thomas Earle of Strafford” 39

Thomas Wentworth, First Earl of Strafford 40

A Plan of London and Westminster after the Fire 41

A Soldier of the Time of King James the First armed with a

Caliver 45

The Trial of King Charles I. _Facing page_ 46

Sir Thomas Fairfax and his Wife 48

Trial of King Charles I. 49

Execution of Charles I. 51

Prince Rupert 60

Cromwell Dissolving Parliament 65

Hackney Coachman 66

Oliver Cromwell 67

General Monk, First Duke of Albemarle 69

View of General Monk’s House in Grub Street 70

Letter from General Monk to the Speaker of Parliament (facsimile) 71

Mob at Temple Bar 74

The Coronation of Charles II. in Westminster Abbey _Facing page_ 76

Charles II. 77

Incidents in the Rebellion of the Fifth Monarchy Men under

Thomas Venner, and the Execution of their Leaders 79

Hungerford Market, near York Buildings, Strand _Facing page_ 88

“The Solemn Mock Procession of the Pope, Cardinalls, Jesuits,

Fryers, etc., through ye City of London” 90

Lord Mayor and Aldermen 93

Nell Gwynne 101

The Coronation of James II. in Westminster Abbey _Facing page_ 102

Titus Oates Flogged at the Cart Tail 103

Titus Oates in the Pillory 104

Duke of Monmouth 105

The Execution of Monmouth 106

James II. 109

The Seven Bishops on the Way to the Tower 111

Parliament in the reign of James II. 112

Judge Jeffreys 113

The Arrest of Jeffreys 115

Entry of the Prince of Orange into London _Facing page_ 116

William III. 119

Mary II. 120

London Street Cries 123

Queen Anne 127

Thanksgiving Service in St. Paul’s 129

Henry Sacheverell, D.D. 132

St. Paul’s Cross 138

William Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury 140

A Trimmer 142

Execution of William Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury 143

John Bunyan’s Meeting-house, Zoar-street, Gravel-lane,

Southwark 154

Touching for King’s Evil 165

St. Bartholomew’s 170

Warwick House, Cloth Fair 173

Craven House, Drury Lane 174

Arundel House 175

Cornhill, London 180

Watchman—Bellman 181

The Apprentices’ Enforced Toilet _Facing page_ 188

Custom House 191

“The Soveraigne of the Seas” 192

The First Royal Exchange—Exterior and Interior _Facing page_ 196

Coins of the Period _Facing page_ 200

Old Grocers’ Hall used for Bank of England 201

A Perspective View of the Bank of England 203

Paul Pindar’s House _Facing page_ 211

Lord Craven 219

Rescued from the Plague _Facing page_ 220

Samuel Pepys 221

Daniel Defoe 224

Part of Cheapside with the Cross, etc., as they Appeared in

1660 241

The Great Fire of London 245

The Cathedral Church of St. Paul as it was before ye Fire of

London 247

A View of the Monument of London, in Remembrance of the

Dreadful Fire in 1666 249

A Plan of the City and Liberties of London after the Dreadful

Conflagration in the Year 1666 _Between pages_ 252 and 253

Sir Christopher Wren 254

Sir John Evelyn’s Plan for Rebuilding the City of London after

the Great Fire in 1666 255

Sir Christopher Wren’s Plan for Rebuilding the City of London

after the Dreadful Conflagration in 1666 255

John Evelyn 259

The Great Fire of London _Facing page_ 260

Temple Bar, the West side 263

London after the Fire _Between pages_ 268 and 269

Somerset Palace, 1650 270

Durham House, Salisbury House, and Worcester House 271

The Charter House Hospital 273

Newgate, 1650 277

Remains of Prince Rupert’s Palace, Beech Street 279

St. Ethelburga within Bishopsgate 281

Specimen of Armorial Architecture 282

House in Great St. Helen’s formerly the Residence of Sir Jno.

Lawrance, Lord Mayor of London A.D. 1665 288

Tavern Scene 292

Two Costume Portraits 298

An English Lady of Quality—Lady of the Court of England 300

Citizen’s Wife—Citizen’s Daughter 301

English Gentlewoman—Noble Gentlewoman of England 303

Maypole Dance in the Time of Charles I. 305

Merchant’s Daughter—Merchant’s Wife of London 306

Procession in the City 306

“Corpe Bearer” 309

St. James’s Park 313

Interior of St. Paul’s 316

Inside of the Duke’s Theatre, Lincoln’s Inn Fields 320

Inside of the Red Bull Playhouse 322

Musical Instruments of the Period _Facing page_ 326

Sports of the Period _Facing page_ 328

Dress of the Lord Mayor and Lady Mayoress of London in 1640 333

Coaches in St. James’s Park 339

SOVEREIGNS

CHAPTER I

JAMES I

James found the City, after a hundred years of Tudor rule, reduced to

an admirable condition of submission and loyalty. He was proclaimed in

the City and by the City, the citizens of London claiming once more a

voice in electing an accessor to the crown. The King returned thanks to

the Mayor and Aldermen in a letter which lacks, one perceives at once,

the royal style of Elizabeth.

[Illustration: JAMES I. (1566–1625)

After the portrait by Paul von Somer.]

Trustie and Wel-beloved, wee greet you hartily well: being informed

of your great forwardnesse in that just and honourable action of

proclaiming us your sovereigne Lord and King, immediately after

the decease of our late dearest Sister, the Queen; wherein you

have given a singular good proofe of your ancient fidelitie (a

reputation hereditary to that our Citie of London), being the

chamber of our imperial crowne, and ever free from all shadowes of

tumultes, and unlawful courses; we could not omit, with all the

speed possible we might, to give you hereby a taste of our thankful

Mind for the same: and with all assurance, that you cannot crave

anything of us fit for the Maintenance of you all in general, and

every one of you in particular, but it shall be most willingly

performed by us, whose speciall care shall ever be to provide for

the continuance and increase of your present happines, desiring

you in the mean time to go constantly forward in all doing, in and

whatsoever things you shall find necessary and expedient for the

good Government of our sayde city, in execution of justice, as you

have been used to doe in our sayde deceased Sister’s tyme, till our

pleasure be known to you in the contrary. Thus not doubting but

you will doe, as you may be fully assured of our gratious favours

towards you, in the first degree, we bid you hartily farewell. Haly

Roodhouse, the 28th of March, 1603.

[Illustration: TRIUMPHAL ARCH ERECTED AT THE TIME OF THE CORONATION OF

JAMES I.

From a contemporary print. E. Gardner’s collection.]

James left Edinburgh on the 5th of April, arriving at Theobalds, where

he rested for four days, on May the 7th; it had taken more than a month

to ride from Edinburgh, _i.e._ he had ridden about twelve miles a day.

At Waltham he was met by one of the sheriffs with sixty servants; at

Stamford Hill by the Mayor and Aldermen in velvet and gold chains and

500 citizens richly apparelled. At that moment the Plague broke out;

the Coronation was shorn of its splendour; the pageants and shows were

laid aside; only the Mayor, Aldermen, and twelve citizens were present

in Westminster Abbey; and James had to postpone his public entry into

the City for a twelvemonth.

With the accession of James revived the hopes of the Catholics; they

built upon the inexperience and the ignorance of the King; perhaps

upon his fears; they magnified their own strength and numbers; and

they quite misunderstood the feeling of the country, which grew

more and more in distrust and hatred of the Catholics. They began,

moreover, just as they had done in the reign of Elizabeth, by plots

and conspiracies. The first of these plots was that called the “Main,”

in which Raleigh, unfortunately for himself and his own reputation,

was concerned. With him was Lord Cobham. As to Raleigh’s guilt, this

is not the place to inquire. As is well known, after twelve years he

was suffered to come out of the Tower, and was allowed to command a

fleet bound for the coast of South America in quest of gold-mines. The

story of his voyage, of his ill success, of his son’s death, of his

return, of his arrest, may be read in the history of England. But the

tragedy of October 29, 1618, when at eight o’clock in the morning Sir

Walter Raleigh was led out to die, moved to the depths every English

heart, and should not be passed over in any history of London. It was

remembered by all that he was the lifelong enemy of Spain, nor could

the attacking of a friendly power in time of peace appear as any other

than a laudable act to the English mind. That the traitor who arrested

and betrayed him, his kinsman who became a paid spy, who also took

money from the very man he was watching, that this man, Sir Lewis

Stukeley, afterwards fell into misery and madness appeared to everybody

an open and visible punishment inflicted by God Himself.

Let us consider the meaning of the fines which play so large a part

in the history of these times. If a man is a Roman Catholic he is on

no account allowed to attend a church or assembly where any kind of

service other than the Catholic is performed. That rule is never, I

believe, relaxed under any circumstances. It is a rule, therefore,

which can be easily used for the discovery of Catholics. Thus (23

Elizabeth) it was enacted that every person over sixteen years of

age who should refrain from attending at church, chapel, or some

usual place of common prayer, against the tenor of a certain statute

of the first year of her Majesty’s reign, for uniformity of common

prayer, and should be lawfully convicted thereof, should forfeit, for

each month in which he or she should so refrain, the sum of twenty

pounds of lawful money. The convictions under this statute illustrate

to some extent the proportion of Roman Catholics to Protestants

then existing in the country. Thus in the Middlesex Session Rolls

(Middlesex County Record Society) may be found a long list of persons

brought before the Middlesex magistrates charged with this offence.

During the last twenty-four years of Queen Elizabeth’s reign there

were 408 convictions of this offence in Middlesex alone. They were

gentlemen and gentlewomen, clerks, yeomen, tradesmen, wives, widows,

and spinsters. They came from many parts of Middlesex, but especially

from Westminster, Clerkenwell, Tottenham, Stepney, and Holborn. A fine

of twenty pounds a month—about £100 of our money—would be far beyond

the means of most of the persons convicted. For instance, on one page

of the Rolls there are the names of twenty-six persons all convicted

of not going to church for two or three months. Of these, twelve are

gentlemen, three are wives of gentlemen, five are yeomen, one is a

spinster, four are clerks, and one is a cook. What happened when the

fine could not be paid? The number of convictions proves, first, that

there were some, but not, in proportion to the whole, many Roman

Catholics left in London and the parts around; next, that they were

easily detected by their absence from church; thirdly, that there was

a hot search after them; and fourthly, that though we find, here and

there, a person following a trade or a craft, the Catholics were for

the most part gentlefolk.

The secret professors of the ancient faith knew of places where a

priest was concealed, and where Mass was sung or whispered with closed

doors. There were five or six of these priests tried and condemned

before the Middlesex magistrates. Thus John Welden in March 1587,

William Hartley in 1588, Robert Walkinson in 1598 were tried and found

guilty simply for being priests, _i.e._ because, “being subjects of

the Queen, they were ordained by authority derived from the See of

Rome, in contempt of the Crown and Dignity of the said Queen.” They

were executed as traitors with the cruelties of detail which we know.

Other persons were charged with receiving, comforting, and maintaining

priests. Thus George Glover and Mary Baylie his wife maintained and

comforted Thomas Tycheburne, clerk and priest, and they received the

pardon of the Queen; Catharine Bellamy, wife of Richard Bellamy,

gentleman, moved and seduced by instigation of the devil, received

and entertained Robert Southwell—it does not appear whether she was

punished for the offence; and Dorothea White, either sister or wife of

Humphrey White of Westminster, gentleman, thus received and entertained

William Tedder, priest. Dorothea was hanged—one supposes—because she

did not make submission.

If we inquire into the comparative importance of the recusants, it

seems that it must have been too small to constitute a real danger.

The number, 408, convicted in a quarter of a century over the whole

of Middlesex—London not included—that is, no more than an average of

sixteen in a year, at a time when the search after them was keen

and untiring—hardly warrants the fears which were entertained by the

Queen’s Council as to the power and numbers of the secret Catholics, or

the hopes of support from the south which were entertained during the

rising of the north; or the expectations at Rome and at the Court of

Spain of a widespread insurrection all over England and a return to the

ancient faith. At the same time it is reasonable to believe that there

were many thousands who, while they adhered outwardly, went to church

and heard the sermon, would have welcomed the return of the Mass and

the Romish form.

[Illustration: THE GUNPOWDER CONSPIRATORS

From title-page of _Warhafftige Beschreibung der Verrätherei, etc._ (De

Bry), Frankfurt, 1606.]

Action in the case of the recusants was followed by the famous

Gunpowder Plot. There can be no doubt that the Catholics were maddened

by disappointment, by persecution, by the failure to obtain toleration,

and by the fines to which they were subjected. The conspirators

proposed, as is well known, to blow up the King, the Lords, and the

Commons when the Parliament should assemble. This plot, like that of

Raleigh, belongs to the history of the country.

[Illustration: Gunpowder Treason.

From a contemporary print. E. Gardner’s collection.]

When the Common Council established a Court of Conscience in the City,

it was with the design of saving poor debtors from the costs of being

sued in the superior courts. But this Court was confined to debtors who

were Citizens and Freemen of London and the Liberties. Some persons,

intending to subvert the good and charitable intent of the Court, took

hold of certain ambiguous words and endeavoured by means of these to

render the intentions of the Court useless. A new and amending Act

was passed which cleared up these difficulties and put the Court of

Conscience on a sounder footing. The Act was well meant, but for more

than two hundred years after it the miserable annals of the Debtors’

Prisons are filled with stories of the exorbitant and extortionate

costs charged by attornies, and with the sufferings of the debtors in

consequence.

The honour in which the City was held was illustrated when the King

joined the Clothworkers’ Company, and when the Merchant Taylors, in

jealousy, showed him their roll of members containing seven kings, one

queen, seventeen princes and dukes, two duchesses, one archbishop,

thirty earls, five countesses, one viscount, fourteen bishops,

sixty-six barons, two ladies, seven abbots, seven priors, and an

immense number of knights and esquires. The King gave them his son

Henry as a member.

The New River was completed after eight years of work. The length of

the canal was 60 miles; it was crossed by 800 bridges, and five years

were spent in the construction; the people were slow in taking their

water from the new supply, probably because they detested changing

their ways. The City was at first supplied with water from the Walbrook

and the Fleet; there were also wells and springs on the rising ground

of the Strand; in Moorfields, at Shoreditch, and elsewhere there were

wells sunk within the City walls; and there were “bosses” or taps of

fresh water brought in from Tyburn. All this, however, was not enough;

the principal sources of supply, the Fleet and Walbrook, had long since

ceased to be of any use. Powers therefore were sought to bring more

water into the City, and were granted to bring water from Hampstead

and from the river Lea; these powers were not, however, used. Improved

works were set up at Tyburn; water mills were placed in the Thames, by

which water was forced up and conveyed as far as Leadenhall. Finally,

after a great deal of hesitation the City made use of these powers to

construct a canal from springs at Chadwell and Amwell in Herts, and

accepted the office of Hugh Middleton, a goldsmith, to execute the

work. Middleton would have failed, however, but for the help of James,

who agreed to pay half the cost of the work if Middleton gave him half

the property. This was done in an assignment of thirty-six “King’s

shares.” Charles parted with them for an annuity of £500. A few years

ago an undivided share sold for £94,900. Yet Middleton died in reduced

circumstances, unable to pay a loan which the City had advanced him on

the progress of his work.

The flight of the Earls of Tyrone and Tyrconnel in 1607 left without

an owner a large tract of land in the north of Ireland which was

confiscated to the Crown. It was proposed to colonise the district,

and a scheme was drawn up for the “Plantation of Ulster.” The King

proposed that the City should take part in this work; the citizens were

assured that their own City was dangerously overcrowded with workmen

and traders of all kinds, that the plantation would be an outlet

much wanted, that the country was well watered and fertile, good for

breeding cattle, well stocked with game and with fisheries; they were

even told to consider how great a work had been done by the people of

Bristol in settling Dublin. A fuller account of the Irish Estates will

be found later on (p. 206).

The conduct of a State Banquet at the Court of King James is minutely

related in the following account of the Banquet presented to the

Spanish Ambassador by the King.

[Illustration: KING JAMES I. ENTERTAINING THE SPANISH AMBASSADOR AT

WHITEHALL, 1623

From a contemporary print. E. Gardner’s Collection.]

“The Audience Chamber was elegantly furnished, having a buffet of

several stages, filled with various pieces of ancient and modern

gilt plate of exquisite workmanship. A railing was placed on each

side the room in order to prevent the crowd from approaching too

near the table. At the right hand upon entering was another buffet,

containing rich vessels of gold, agate, and other precious stones.

The table might be about five yards in length, and more than one

yard broad. The dishes were brought in by gentlemen and servants of

the King, who were accompanied by the Lord Chamberlain, and before

placing them on the table they made four or five obeisances. The

Earls of Pembroke and Southampton officiated as gentlemen-ushers.

Their Majesties, with the Prince Henry, entered after the Constable

and the others, and placed themselves at their throne, and all

stood in a line to hear the grace said; the Constable being at

the King’s side, and the Count de Villamediana on the Queen’s.

Their Majesties washed their hands in the same basin, the Lord

Treasurer handing the towel to the King, and the High Admiral to

the Queen. The Prince washed in another basin, in which water

was also taken to the Constable, who was waited upon by the same

gentlemen. They took their seats in the following manner: their

Majesties sat at the head of the table, at a distance from each

other, under the canopy of state, the Queen being on the right

hand, on chairs of brocade with cushions; and at her side, a little

apart, sat the Constable, on a tabouret of brocade with a high

cushion of the same, and on the side of the King the Prince was

seated in like manner. On the opposite side of the table and on the

right sat Count Villamediana, and next to him the Senator Rovida

opposite the Constable; and on the same side with the senator,

nearly fronting the Prince, were seated the President Richardot

and the Audiencier, a space in front being left vacant owing to

the absence of the Count d’Arembergue, who was prevented by the

gout from attending. The principal noblemen of the kingdom were

likewise at the table, in particular the Duke of Lennox; the Earl

of Arundel; the Earl of Suffolke, Lord Chamberlain; the Earl of

Dorset, Lord Treasurer; the Earl of Nottingham, High Admiral; the

Earls of Devonshire, of Southampton, and of Pembroke; the Earl of

Northumberland; the Earl of Worcester, Master of the Horse; the

Earls of Shrewsbury, of Sussex, of Derby, and of Essex, and the

Lord Chancellor—all being Knights of the Garter; also Barons Cecil

and Wotton and the Lord Kinross, a privy councillor; Sir Thomas

Erskine, Captain of the Guard; Sir John Ramsay and James Lindsay,

Scotchmen; and other barons and gentlemen of quality. There was

plenty of instrumental music and the banquet was sumptuous and

profuse. The first thing the King did was to send the Constable

a melon and half-a-dozen oranges on a very green branch, telling

him that they were the fruit of Spain transplanted into England;

to which the latter, kissing his hand, replied that he valued the

gift more as coming from his Majesty than as being the fruit of his

own country; he then divided the melon with their Majesties, and

Don Blasco de Aragon handed the plate to the Queen, who politely

and graciously acknowledged the attention. Soon afterwards the

King stood up, and with his head uncovered drank to the Constable

the health of their Spanish Majesties, and may the peace be

happy and perpetual. The Constable pledged him in like manner,

and replied that he entertained the same hope and that from the

peace the greatest advantages might result to both crowns and to

Christendom. The toast was then drunk by the Count Villamediana

and the others present, to the delight and applause of their

Majesties. Immediately afterwards, the Constable, seeing that

another opportunity might not be afforded him, rose and drank to

the King the health of the Queen from the lid of a cup of agate of

extraordinary beauty and richness, set with diamonds and rubies,

praying his Majesty would condescend to drink the toast from the

cup, which he did accordingly, and ordered it to be passed round

to the Prince and the others; and the Constable directed that the

cup should remain in his Majesty’s buffet. At this period the

people shouted out, ‘Peace, peace, peace! God save the King! God

save the King! God save the King!’ and a king at arms presented

himself before the table, and after the drums, trumpets, and

other instruments had sounded, with a loud voice said in English:

‘That the kingdom returned many thanks to his Majesty for having

concluded with the King of Spain so advantageous a peace, and

he prayed to God that it might endure for many ages, and his

subjects hoped that his Majesty would endeavour with all his might

to maintain it so that they might enjoy from it tranquillity

and repose, and that security and advantage might result to all

his people; and therefore they prayed him to allow the same to

be published in the kingdoms and dominions of his Majesty.’ At

length, after other healths and messages from the King and Queen,

it was brought to a conclusion, having lasted about three hours.

The cloth having been removed, every one immediately rose up; the

table was placed upon the ground, and their Majesties standing

upon it, proceeded to wash their hands, which is stated to be an

ancient ceremony. The Constable invited Count Villamediana to wash

in his basin, and the other Commissioners washed in others. Their

Majesties then withdrew to their apartment, and the Constable and

Count were conducted to a handsome gallery, adorned with various

paintings, where they remained more than an hour. In the meantime

dancing had begun in the said Audience Chamber, and the Constable

and Count were informed in the name of their Majesties that they

were then waiting for them to go and see it.

[Illustration: HENRY, PRINCE OF WALES (1594–1612)

From the painting by Paul von Somer.]

After a little while the Prince Henry was commanded by his parents

to dance a galliard, and they pointed out to him the lady who was

to be his partner; and this he did with much sprightliness and

modesty, cutting several capers in the course of the dance....

The ball ended, and then all took their places at the windows of

the room, which looked out upon a square where a platform was

raised, and a vast crowd had assembled to see the King’s bears

fight with greyhounds. This afforded great amusement. Presently a

bull, tied to the end of a rope, was fiercely baited by dogs. After

this certain tumblers came, who danced upon a rope and performed

curious feats of agility and skill on horseback. With this ended

the entertainment and the day, and their Majesties now retired,

being accompanied by the Constable and the other noblemen to their

apartment, before entering which, many compliments passed on both

sides, and their Majesties and the Prince shook hands with the

Constable and the Count; and the other Spanish cavaliers kissed

hands and took their departure. The Constable and the others, upon

quitting the ball-room, were accompanied by the Lord Chamberlain

to the farthest room, and by the Earl of Devonshire and other

gentlemen to their coaches, more than fifty halberdiers lighting

them with torches until they reached home, where as many others

were waiting their arrival. Being fatigued, the Constable and the

Count supped that night in private, and the others at the ordinary

table.”

The mind of the City in 1607 was greatly exercised with a question of

precedence. The question, which was submitted to the King, and by him

submitted to the Court Marshal, was as follows:—

“Whether a Commoner dignified with knighthood, without any other

advantage of honour by employment or otherwise, and using trade and

keeping shop in the City, should take place of an Alderman Knight

within the same City, contrary to this beautified order, of ancient

time settled and confirmed, with such charters and grants from his

Majesty; or whether any other Bachelor Knight shall take place of

any Alderman within this City?”

The question was decided in favour of the precedency of the Aldermen.

In the year 1606 one is surprised to find an order for the cleansing of

the town ditch—the last of such orders. In 1598 Stow wrote that it was

stopped up and choked:—

“Now of late neglected and forced either to a very narrow, and the same

a filthy channel, or altogether stopped up for gardens planted, and

houses built thereon; even to the very wall, and in many places upon

both ditch and wall houses to be built; to what danger of the City, I

leave to wiser consideration, and can but wish that reformation might

be had.”

It had been cleansed in 1519, 1540, 1569, and 1595, but apparently

only in part. Thus in 1519 between Aldgate and the Tower postern, the

same part in 1540, the same part again in 1569, and the part between

Bishopsgate and the postern of Moorgate in 1595. I do not understand

the reason of these repeated cleansings of parts.

In 1614 Smithfield, which had now become the cattle-market of the City,

and was therefore a place of very great resort, continued to be without

pavement of any kind, so that during or after rainy weather it was

absolutely impassable for mud and mire. King James called the attention

of the Mayor to this scandal, and ordered that the place should be

paved. This was done. The paving was the old-fashioned cobble; it took

six months to lay down, and cost £1600.

At the same time the laying down of broad freestones instead of the old

cobbles was commenced. Those of the inhabitants who chose laid down the

stones before their own doors. We must understand, therefore, that all

the important streets at this time were paved with cobbles; that in a

few of the principal thoroughfares there was a pavement of flat stones,

but not uniform; and that there were many courts and alleys where there

was no kind of pavement at all. We may further understand that this was

the London of Hogarth as well as of James I.

On July 8, 1614, the Lord Mayor sent a communication to the Lord

Chamberlain detailing the steps he had taken in reforming disorderly

practices (_Remembrancia_, p. 358):—

_Firstly._—He had freed the streets of a swarm of loose and idle

vagrants, providing for the relief of such as were not able to get

their living, and keeping them at work in Bridewell, not punishing

any for begging, but setting them on work, which was worse than

death to them.

_Secondly._—He had informed himself, by means of spies, of many

lewd houses, and had gone himself disguised to divers of them, and

finding these nurseries of villany, had punished them according to

their deserts, some by carting and whipping, and many by banishment.

_Thirdly._—Finding the gaol pestered with prisoners, and their

bane to take root and beginning at ale-houses, and much mischief

to be there plotted, with great waste of corn in brewing heady

strong beer, many consuming all their time and sucking that sweet

poison, he had taken an exact survey of all victualling-houses and

ale-houses, which were above a thousand, and above 300 barrels

of strong beer in some houses, the whole quantity of beer in

victualling-houses amounting to above 40,000 barrels; he had

thought it high time to abridge their number and limit them by

bonds as to the quantity of beer they should use, and as to what

orders they should observe, whereby the price of corn and malt had

greatly fallen.

_Fourthly._—The Bakers and Brewers had been drawn within bounds, so

that, if the course continued, men might have what they paid for,

viz. weight and measure.

He had also endeavoured to keep the Sabbath day holy, for which he

had been much maligned.

_Fifthly._—If what he had done were well taken, he would proceed

further, viz. to deal with thieving brokers or broggers, who were

the receivers of all stolen goods.

And lastly, the inmates of infected houses would require before

summer to be discharged of all superfluities for avoiding

infection, etc.

[Illustration: A FACSIMILE OF THE ORDER FOR THE BURNING OF THE BOOK

OF SPORTS

E. Gardner’s Collection.]

{Transcription:

_Die Veneris 5^o. Maij. 1643._

It is this day Ordered by the Lords and Commons in Parliament,

That the Booke concerning the enjoyning and tollerating of Sports

upon the Lords day, be forthwith Burned by the hand of the Common

Hangman in _Cheape-side_, and other usuall places: And to this

purpose, the Sheriffs of _London_ and _Middlesex_ respectively, are

hereby required to be Assistant to the effectuall Execution of this

Order, and see the said Books burnt accordingly. And all persons

who have any of the said Books in their hands, are hereby required

forthwith to deliver them to one of the Sheriffes of _London_, to

be burnt according to this Order.

_John Browne Cler. Parl._

_Henry Elsynge Cler. P. D. Com._

* * * * *

_The Sheriffes of_ London _and_ Middlesex _have assigned Wednesday

next the 10^{th} of this instant May, at twelve of the clock, for

the putting in execution of the foresaid_ Ordinance, _and therefore

doe require all persons that have any of the Bookes therein

mentioned, to bring them in by that time, that they may be burned

accordingly_.

John Langham.

Thomas Andrewes.

* * * * *

_LONDON:_

Printed for _Thomas Underhill_ in _Great Woodstreete_.

_May 9. 1643._}

Returning from Scotland in 1618 James observed that certain persons of

Lancashire, whom he called Puritans, and precise people, had interfered

by prohibiting such “lawful recreations and honest exercises upon

Sundays and other holidays after the afternoon sermon or service”

as the peasantry had been accustomed to indulge in; he therefore

issued a declaration setting forth that this prohibition “barreth the

common and meaner sort of people from using such exercises as may make

their bodies more able for war, when we or our successors shall have

occasion to use them; and in place thereof sets up filthy tiplings and

drunkenness, and breeds a number of idle and discontented speeches

in their ale-houses: for when shall the common people have leave to

exercise, if not upon the Sundays and holidays, seeing they must apply

their labour, and win their living, in all working days?”

The King therefore commanded that no recreations should be denied to

his subjects which did not militate against the laws and the canons

of the Church. “And as for our good people’s lawful recreation, our

pleasure likewise is that after the end of divine services our good

people may not be disturbed, letted, or discouraged from any lawful

recreation, such as dancing, either men or women, archery for men,

leaping, vaulting, or any other such harmless recreation: nor from

having of May games, Whitsun ales, and Morris dances, and the setting

up of May-poles, and other sports therewith used, as the same be had

in due and convenient time without impediment or neglect of divine

service; and that women shall have leave to carry rushes to the church

for the decorating of it, according to their old custom. But withall,

we do here account still as prohibited all unlawful games to be used

upon Sunday only, as bear and bull-baiting, interludes, and, at all

times in the meaner sort of people by law prohibited, bowling.”

The famous Book of Sports, which laid down rules as to games and

sports lawful to be played on the Sunday, was ordered to be read in

every parish church throughout the country. The reception of the

proclamation, especially in the City, seems to have surprised the

King’s advisers. Neither James nor his son could ever understand the

extent or the depth of the new ideas in religion. Sunday, in the eyes

of most people who thought about religion at all—that is, in the eyes

of all responsible persons in London, which was a hot-bed of religious

controversy—had become the Jewish Sabbath. Most of the City clergy

refused absolutely to read the Book of Sports in their churches,

choosing to be fined or suspended and imprisoned rather than obey.

These punishments they endured. But the feeling in the City ran very

high, insomuch that the Lord Mayor refused permission for the King’s

carriages to be drawn through the City on Sunday during Divine Service.

There was, naturally, great indignation at Court. The King made the

customary observation about two Kings in the country. However, he sent

his carriages back with a warrant to let them pass. This the Mayor

obeyed, saying that he had done his duty, but that what one in higher

authority commanded, he must obey. So no more was said, and the City,

in the matter of the Book of Sports, had peace.

The story of the settlement of Virginia is a pleasing episode of this

reign. It shows the City at its best, wise, patriotic, generous,

and far-seeing. Taking this history with that of the plantation of

Ulster, we have a proof that the City was at this time overcrowded and

congested. When the latter scheme was first set afoot the citizens were

reminded that the City was so crowded that one tradesman was hardly

able to live by another, and when the Virginian colony was mooted

it was proposed to relieve the streets by sending out all the idle

children.

[Illustration: THE DESTRUCTION OF CHEAPSIDE CROSS AND THE BURNING OF

THE BOOK OF SPORTS, MAY 1643]

{Transcription:

_The 2 of May, 1643 y^e Crosse in Cheapeside was pulled downe, a

Troope of Horse & 2 Companies of foote wayted to garde it & at y^e

fall of y^e tope Crosse dromes beat trumpets blew & multitudes of

Capes wayre throwne in y^e Ayre & a great Shoute of People with

ioy, y^e 2 of May the Almanake sayeth, was y^e invention of the

Crosse, & 6 day at night was the Leaden Popes burnt in the place

where it stood with ringinge of Bells & a greate Acclamation & no

hurt done in all these actions._

_10 of May the Boocke of Sportes upon the Lords day was burnt by

the Hangman in the place where the crosse stoode, & at Exchange_}

The Company for colonising Virginia was founded in 1609. The promoters

assured the Mayor, then Sir Humphry Wild, that if the surplus

population of London could be transferred to Virginia there would be

far less danger of pestilence and famine. By way of attracting people

willing to emigrate, meat, drink, and clothing, with a house, orchard,

and garden, and an allotment of land, were offered. Any alderman

subscribing £50 would be reckoned an original member of the Council.

“Bills of Association” were given to all who subscribed, entitling them

to a _pro rata_ share in the profits. Fifty-six of the Companies agreed

to take ventures in the plantations. On May 23, 1609, the Company

received a second charter, and in the same month the first fleet of

seven ships was dispatched. The ships took three months to get across;

yellow fever broke out among their crews and passengers, the number of

whom were sadly reduced when they landed.

In two years’ time the Company had got through all their money,

though they had raised £18,000 since their first fleet went out. They

obtained, however, a third charter, with the addition of the Bermudas,

and they held a public lottery. It is remarkable to find the City

Companies and the City churches, or vestries, taking shares in this

lottery.

Two years later a second lottery was set on foot. In 1618 it was

decided to take up vagrant boys and girls in the streets and to

transport them to Virginia. This was done. A beginning was made with

100, who were shipped across so successfully that the Corporation sent

over another hundred. The children cost £5 each, including their voyage

and their clothing. The Common Council paid for both shiploads by a

rate levied on the City.

Next, the King complained that whole companies of lazy rogues and

masterless men followed the Court. The Virginia Company laid hands

on all, put them into Bridewell, and as soon as possible packed them

off for the Plantation. But the infant colony suffered in 1622 from a

treacherous attack made upon the people by the Indians, in which 350

of the settlers perished. The Court of Common Council voted another

£500 for another shipload of boys and girls. The question of beggars,

vagrants, and disorderly persons was constantly before the authorities.

The difficulty has always been the same. If they are suppressed one

day, they gather again the next.

In the year 1614 the City began a very mean and unworthy practice;

that, namely, of electing to the office of Sheriff those who would

rather pay the fine than serve. In this year nearly a dozen were

elected, all of whom declined to serve.

In the same year the Mayor and Corporation received a reminder that

the City was expected to keep a force of militia always equipped and

drilled. They therefore resolved on raising a force of 6000 men; the

Aldermen were provided with precepts stating the number of men wanted

from each ward, with the kind of arms and armour which they were to

bring with them. A list of prices at which the arms could be procured

was appended to the precept:—

“Jerome Heydon, described as ‘iremonger at the lower end of

Cheapeside,’ was ready to sell corslets, comprising ‘brest, backe,

gorgett, taces and headpiece,’ at 15s.; pikes with steel heads at

2s. 6d.; swords, being Turkey blades, at 7s.; ‘bastard’ muskets at

14s.; great muskets with rests, at 16s.; a headpiece, lined and

stringed, at 2s. 6d., and a bandaleer for 1s. 6d. Henry White and

Don Sany Southwell were prepared to do corslets 6d. cheaper, and

the same with swords, but their swords are described as only ‘Irish

hilts and belts to them.’ Their bastard muskets, ‘with mouldes,’

could be had for 13s., or 1s. cheaper than those of Jerome Heydon.

The Armourers’ Company were ready to supply corslets at 15s., but

for the same ‘with pouldrons’ they asked 4s. more. The Cutlers’

Company would furnish ‘a very good turky blade and good open hilts’

for 6s., thus underselling the private firms.”

The interference of James with the Merchant Adventurers in 1615 is

difficult to understand. He suppressed the Company, withdrew all

licences for the exportation of undyed and undressed cloth, and formed

a new company. The Dutch threatened to set up looms for themselves and

to destroy the English trade in cloth, but the new company proved a

failure, and the old company was restored.

The charter granted by James in the sixth year of his reign confirmed

all the ancient rights, liberties, and immunities of the citizens, and

added to the bounds of the City and its jurisdiction, the precincts of

Duke’s Place, St. Bartholomew’s the Great and Less, Black and White

Friars, and Cold Harbour.

Yet the same anxiety which possessed the Government in the reign of

Elizabeth as to the increase of London was shown by that of James in

his very first year, when he issued a proclamation putting a stop to

the building of new houses in the suburbs. It was ordered that no one

should build on new foundations, and that all houses so built should

be pulled down. The frequency of these proclamations shows that the

Government was in earnest on the subject. No doubt the ordinance was

evaded because the suburbs were actually increasing, and that rapidly,

but a great many persons would be deterred by fear of breaking the law,

and would either remain in the City, which was greatly overcrowded, or

go across the river and occupy Southwark, which began to fill up fast,

along the causeway and embankment, and to grow also by putting out new

streets on either side of the former and along the road to Bermondsey.

The year after a third proclamation was issued to the same effect;

no one was to build on new foundations within two miles of the City.

The people paid no attention to this proclamation, and building went

on without molestation for some years, when the builders were called

upon either to buy their own houses at an extravagant price or to pull

them down. This mode of enforcing the law would not be approved at the

present day; in 1617 it put money into James’s pocket.

Six years later another proclamation was published to the same effect,

acknowledging the futility of the former law.

On a certain Sunday afternoon, the 26th of October 1623, occurred

a disaster, called the Fatal Vespers, which was long remembered as

a signal proof of Heaven’s wrath against those who followed Popish

worship. The French Ambassador at that time had a house in Blackfriars,

adjoining which there was a large upper chamber, sometimes used as

the Ambassador’s chapel, about 60 feet long and 20 feet broad. Roman

Catholics in London frequented the chapels at the various embassies.

But this was not the French Ambassador’s chapel, which was within his

house. Perhaps the occasion demanded a larger room.

On this afternoon about 300 persons were assembled to celebrate

evensong and to hear a sermon from a Jesuit named Father Drury, a

person held in great repute for his learning, his blameless life, and

laudable conversation. The congregation consisted of English, Scotch,

Irish, and Welsh. The sermon began between three and four in the

afternoon. The text was the parable of the king and the servant whom he

forgave.

In the midst of the sermon the beams and side timbers of the floor

suddenly gave way and fell with all the people upon the floor of the

room below. This in its turn being broken through, all fell upon the

lowest floor, where they lay piled together with the beams and broken

planks. The only persons who did not fall were some thirty sitting or

standing in a corner where the beams held fast. These people with their

knives cut a hole in the wall, and so got safely into the Ambassador’s

house.

Meanwhile people came running with spades and pickaxes to extricate the

sufferers from the ruins.

It took the whole of that day and night to bring out all the people.

Out of the 300 who were assembled in the evening some thirty we have

said did not fall with the rest. Ninety-five were found to be dead,

including the preacher, Father Drury, and a great many were maimed and

bruised.

The story of a tumult by the City ’prentices suggests the fourteenth

century. It began with one of them crying out when Gondomar, the

Spanish Ambassador, was being carried down Fleet Street in his chair,

“There goes the devil in a dung-cart.” Upon which one of the suite

retorted sharply. Then the apprentice knocked down the Spaniard. For

this offence he with his companions was ordered to be whipped through

the City. Thereupon the apprentices rose, 300 strong, and released

their companions. However, it could not be endured that an Ambassador

should be insulted, and the sentence was carried out. One of the

apprentices died, presumably from the severity of his punishment; the

others were released, and when it was known, later on, that the Spanish

match had fallen through, the Londoners expressed the liveliest joy,

bonfires were lit, bells rung, tables were spread in the streets, casks

were broached, and all because the Prince was coming home—without the

Infanta.

All that precedes concerning the reign of James I. touches the surface

of things. These events might have been observed by any casual

by-stander, and understood by him as possessing no significance as to

the mind of the people and the City.

We have now to consider the influence of James, not on the country

at large, where opinion was slow in coming to a head, so much as in

the City, where, with 100,000 gathered closely together, and that

within hearing of Whitehall, suspicion and jealousy, once awakened,

became rapidly opinion, and opinion became conviction, and the settled

conviction of the City, once known and formulated, proved the most

important weapon of all those forged by the pedantry and obstinacy

of James, and the equal obstinacy and wrongheadedness of Charles. In

other words, it is necessary in this place to show, if possible, that

in a closer sense than is usual the years 1603–1625 were a preparation

for the appeal to arms, by which the liberties of the country were

secured. I prepare, therefore, to pass in very brief review some of the

leading political events of the time, in order to show how the City was

affected by them.

To begin with, the City was fiercely Protestant. The Catholic reaction,

which had stayed the spread of Continental Protestantism, only made

England more doggedly Protestant. That a new life had been imparted

to the Catholic Church by the Jesuits and the new orders made the

Englishman only the more hostile to a church which threatened his

nationality, his liberties, everything that he held most sacred. Again,

to the Protestant spirit belonged the right of free thought and free

doctrine as against authority. Scholars and divines were satisfied

with the purely personal relations between God and man, which they

had substituted for the priest and the sacerdotal authority. What the

Protestant clergy wanted, what they asked of James in the Millenary

Petition was a reform in the ecclesiastical courts, the removal of

certain superstitious usages from the Prayer Book, the more rigorous

observance of Sunday, and the training of preachers. “Why,” asked

Bacon—he might have asked the same question to-day—“should the civil

state be purged and restored by good and wholesome laws made every

three years in Parliament assembled, devising remedies as fast as

time breedeth mischief, and contrariwise the ecclesiastical state

still continue upon the dregs of time, and receive no alteration these

forty-five years and more?”

However, James had not the least intention of making any change in the

ecclesiastical courts.

Moreover, he had already declared his views as to the rights of

the sovereign. “A king, he said, is not bound to frame his actions

according to law, but of his own free will, and for giving an example

to his people.” Convocation was quick to adopt this view and to

denounce as a fatal error the doctrine that all power is derived from

the people. Later on, the University of Oxford proclaimed the doctrine

of passive resistance. It is difficult to speak with moderation of

these two opinions, or to estimate how far they are responsible for the

bloodshed of the Civil War.

How James carried on his government for seven years without a

Parliament belongs to national history. We may, however, picture

the wrath and exasperation of the City at the encroachments of the

spiritual courts, the subserviency of the lawyers and judges, the

extortions, the sale of peerages, and the dismissal of the Chief

Justice. We can also imagine the whispers that went round concerning

the Court, its extravagance, the shameless promotion of favourites, the

scandals, the attempt to form a Spanish alliance.

We may sum up this ignoble reign, so far as concerns London, by saying

that the attitude of the City during the whole of it was one of

observation and endurance. We have seen something of what was observed.

There were, however, other things of which the City took silent note.

To begin with, James, while he proclaimed the Royal prerogative, threw

away the Royal dignity. He was extravagant and in foolish ways; he

loved favourites and they were unworthy; his son was the idol of the

people, but James affected no grief for him, nay, it was even whispered

that the young Prince was poisoned, and with the guilty knowledge

of his father; he hated Puritans and persecuted Catholics; he spent

most of his time in hunting; it was commonly reported that he drank

heavily; his servants were left without their wages; his purveyors

refused supplies until they were paid; he was always preaching the

Royal prerogative; he was anxious to enter upon a marriage with Spain,

the arch-enemy of the Protestant religion; he tried to bully the House

of Commons, but got nothing from them; he granted monopolies, a thing

abhorrent to the commercial mind. All these things London observed and

marked, and they bore their fruit in the reign of James’s son, and

those of his two grandsons. But as yet resistance—armed resistance—was

not even thought of. Plots and conspiracies there were, but of small

account. Of armed resistance on behalf of the liberties of the country

as yet there was no idea.

CHAPTER II

CHARLES I

The history of Charles shows, if we consider nothing more than his

dealings with the City of London, a wrongheadedness which is most

amazing. It is true that two at least of the Tudor sovereigns had ruled

the City with a strong hand, but they knew how to make themselves loved

as well as feared, and they knew, further, how timely concessions in

small things may overcome resistance in great things. Moreover, we have

seen how James had endeavoured to make himself an absolute monarch,

and the results which followed. As the event proved, the side taken by

London in this reign was once more the winning side; as it was with

Richard the Second and Henry the Sixth, so it was with Charles the

First.

[Illustration: CHARLES I. (1600–1649)

From the replica of the portrait by Van Dyck painted by Sir Peter Lely.]

[Illustration: CHEAPSIDE—QUEEN HENRIETTA MARIA’S ENTRY INTO LONDON

From a contemporary print.]

I have attempted to indicate something of the effect produced upon

the City by the reign of James I. I have now to show the fruits of

that reign, followed by another even more obstinately arbitrary; even

blinder to the threatening wave that was rising and swelling before

the King’s feet, so that it was impossible, one would have thought,

not to see it and to understand it. The unbroken contumacy of the

House of Commons, whenever it had a chance of speaking, was not that

a sign which might have been read by the King and his Ministers? The

sullen attitude of the City—was not that a sign? Charles, however,

saw nothing, or, if he saw, then he thought the opposition feeble

compared with the forces at his own disposal. Nothing, however, seems

to have been further from his thoughts than armed resistance. Let us

remember, however, that at the outset Charles had to face an angry

and discontented City; angry on account of the ecclesiastical courts

and the impossibility of redress; discontented on account of the late

King’s deliberate trampling upon all its liberties.

On the 28th of April, Charles was proclaimed King at Ludgate Hill,

himself being present. On the 1st of May he was married by proxy

in Paris to Henrietta Maria. The new Queen came over at once, and

received a kindly welcome from the citizens. The public entry, which

was arranged for June 18, was postponed on account of another outbreak

of plague. The number of deaths from this visitation is returned at

35,417, about one-third of the whole population. As in 1603, and

later on in 1665, the richer sort hurried out of the town on the

first outbreak, leaving behind them the population which cannot leave

the place of work, namely, the apprentices, craftsmen, servants, and

porters. The rich carried away what they could, but they were refused

entrance into the villages, even the barns being closed to them. Many

of them died on the highway, their pockets stuffed with money.

In the midst of this terrible time Charles called upon the City to

raise and equip 1000 men for the new expedition. This was done, and

the men were raised somehow, and marched down to Plymouth, where they

awaited the arrival of the Fleet with no pay and no provisions. Finally

the Fleet arrived, and they went on board, bound for Cadiz, there to

experience failure.

The Parliament of 1626 refused to grant supplies until grievances had

been considered. Charles therefore dissolved it. This was like his

father. He would get on without the Parliament. He began by calling

upon the City to lend him £100,000. The City refused, they had no

money, they were just recovering from the Plague; they lent, however,

£20,000 on good security. Next came a demand for 4000 men and 20 ships,

the first for the defence of Sheppey, and the second in order to carry

the war into the enemy’s country. To the first the City replied that

the order came from some of the lords and not from the King, and that

by charter their soldiers were for the defence of the City and must

not go farther than the Mayor himself may go. As we have seen in the

past, this right was always put forward when the City did not want to

obey the King, and always neglected when the City was willing that

its troops should go anywhere, as, for instance, in the deposition of

Richard the Second, in the siege of Winchester under Stephen, and in

the defence of the country against the Spanish Armada.

As for the ships, the Mayor was instructed to reply that the City

was in a most impoverished condition, that they could not get the

ships ready in the time, and that the merchants would far rather have

letters of mark and go out privateering. However, the City gave way.

It is an indication of the poverty of the City at this time that the

small sum of £18,000 wanted for fitting out the ships could not be

raised. Many of the people steadfastly refused to pay their rate; the

constables refused to distrain; the people helped one another when the

constables tried to do their duty. Meantime the streets of the City

were thronged with sailors clamouring for their pay; they mobbed the

Duke of Buckingham, who put them off with promises. Charles had no

money to give them. He endeavoured to get supplies by the “Forced Loan”

of 1626. The City was left for a time, but when in 1627 war broke out

between France and England it became necessary to press for the loan.

Some persons refused to give any money and were committed to prison;

the judges declared the loan illegal. The City, however, after long

discussions, resolved on lending the King another sum of £120,000,

provided it was amply secured.

The following is part of the assessment, showing the demands divided

among the leading companies:—

Merchant Taylors £6300

Grocers £6000

Haberdashers £4300

Drapers £4608

Vintners £3120

Goldsmiths £4380

Mercers £3720

Fishmongers £3390

Clothworkers £3390

The masters and wardens of the plumbers, saddlers, founders, joiners,

and glaziers were sent to prison for neglecting to collect the

company’s quota.

The unpopularity of Buckingham, upon whom was laid the odium of

failure, is shown in the very strange story of the murder of Dr. Lambe.

Lambe was an astrologer and a creature of Buckingham’s. The account of

his death is told in three ways. First, that of Dr. Reginald Sharpe

(_London and the Kingdom_, ii. p. 105). He says that Lambe was set

upon by some of the people in the City on his way home after supper,

that they did him nearly to death, and that no one would receive the

wounded man, who was taken to the compter, and died the next day. The

other accounts are more elaborate and more unreal. They are as follows:—

1. He was insulted by a few boys, who were joined by the rabble, so

that he took refuge in a tavern in the Old Jewry. The vintner, for his

own safety, turned him out, whereupon the mob beat him to death before

the Mayor’s guard could reach the spot.

[Illustration: HENRIETTA MARIA (1609–1669)

From an engraving by Voerts, after Van Dyck.]

2. He was in Cheapside, where he was insulted by the boys, who were

joined by the mob; he ran into a house of Wood Street, where the people

broke all the windows. He was forced to leave his refuge, and was then

seized by the mob, who dragged him along, striking and kicking him. The

account goes on to say that the news of the tumult reaching the King,

he rode, accompanied by a small guard, into the City, and found in St.

Paul’s Churchyard the mob, still beating and kicking the man; that he

addressed the mob and bade them desist; that they replied that they had

already judged him; and in fact they had so dislocated his limbs that

he was dead. Charles, having so small a guard, was obliged to retire.

The second of these two accounts is clearly false, because Wood Street

is only a few minutes’ walk from St. Paul’s Churchyard; the noise of

a City disturbance would not reach Whitehall; when the news of it did

reach Whitehall, the thing must have been over, unless the kicking and

striking lasted for an hour; it would take quite an hour for the riot

to be reported to the King, and for him to get ready his escort and to

ride to St. Paul’s.

In any case there is no doubt that the man Lambe was murdered by the

London mob; also that the King was greatly incensed at the matter, for

he wrote an angry letter to the Mayor calling for the punishment of the

murderers. The Mayor replied that he could not find any; the City was

therefore fined £6000, which, on their arresting a few men, was reduced

to 1500 marks or £1000. It has been suggested that the money was all

that Charles wanted. If so, why did he reduce the fine? It is much more

probable that he was personally concerned at the murder.

There are many indications that the people were getting beyond the

control of the Mayor and Aldermen. The murder of Lambe was only one of

the many riotous affairs which occurred during this reign. In 1630 the

Sheriff’s officers having arrested a man in Fleet Street, the populace

rose and attempted a rescue. The Sheriff’s officers were supported

by watchmen, constables, and some of the citizens who joined them; a

fight ensued, in which many were killed and wounded. The Mayor, with a

company of the trained bands, arrived upon the scene and stopped the

battle. Several ringleaders were arrested, and one, Henry Stamford by

name, was executed.

Again, in 1640, the City being greatly enraged against the Archbishop

of Canterbury, a body of five hundred ’prentices gathered together by

night and ran to Lambeth, intending to sack and destroy the Palace;

the Archbishop, however, had got wind of their design, and was strong

enough to beat them off. The ’prentices also broke up the sittings of

the High Commissioner of St. Paul’s.

Another pestilence visited the City in 1629, remaining till 1631.

It was followed, as usual, by distress and scarcity of provisions.

Doggerel rhymes (_Sharpe_, ii. 109) appeared showing the temper of the

people:—

“The corne is so dear,

I doubt many will starve this year;

If you see not to this

Some of you will speed amiss.

Our souls they are dear,

For our bodies have some care.

Before we arise

Less will suffice.”

One of the advantages of keeping all the shops of one trade in the same

quarter is illustrated by the story of the Queen’s loss by robbery. It

was in the year 1631 that a part of her plate and jewels was stolen.

The purchasers of the stolen property must have been the goldsmiths,

and unless the stolen plate had been sent abroad, it might be recovered

by finding to what goldsmith it had been offered on purchase. Until the

beginning of the seventeenth century all the goldsmiths lived together

in Cheapside. As early as 1623 it was observed that many of them were

leaving their old quarters and setting up shops elsewhere. They were

ordered to go back to their old quarters, but, as generally happened

with such orders, there were no means of enforcing them, and the

goldsmiths continued to scatter themselves about the town. Then came

the Queen’s loss, and it was found that the order had been entirely

neglected. The Lords in Council, therefore, renewed the order on the

ground that by leaving Cheapside and setting up their shops in other

places, they offered facilities for “passing away of stolen plate.”

This order of Council was issued in 1635. As very little attention

was paid to the order, which was certainly vexatious, it was renewed

on May 24, 1637, and was followed by an order of the Court of Star

Chamber that if any other tradesmen besides goldsmiths should keep shop

in Cheapside or Lombard Street, the Alderman should be imprisoned for

permitting it. As little attention was paid to this order, a fourth,

to the same effect, was issued in January 1638. In the last the names

of some offenders were given; there were two stationers, a milliner, a

bandseller, a drugster, a cook, and a girdler. This interference with

the conduct of trade was part of a general and systematic attempt to

make the King master in everything. He could not possibly have made

a greater mistake than to interfere with the trading interests or to

meddle with the way in which a money-making community conducted its

affairs. The goldsmiths who had left Cheapside had done so in their own

interests; by scattering, each shop formed its own circle; to give up

that circle would be to give up the shopkeeper’s livelihood; they had

found out by this time that in a great city of 150,000 people, trade is

more successful when the shops of the same kind are scattered. Imagine

the wrath of Cheapside at the present day if all the shops except those

of one trade were ordered to depart!

The business of the ship money is by some historians considered

the greatest of all the King’s mistakes; but that of the Cheapside

tradesmen touched a lower level, and therefore a wider area. To bleed

the rich merchants was one thing, to deprive an honest tradesman of his

shop was more serious, because of tradesmen there were more than of

merchants. A charter confirming the City liberties produced no change

in the King’s policy. It was signed while the disputes concerning ship

money, Irish Estates, and interference with trade were at their height,

and it cost the City £12,000.

When we read of ships being fitted out by London, of the fleet equipped

by Sir John Philpott, of the solid support given to the fleet which

engaged the Spanish Armada, and of other occasions, it is difficult

to understand the objections of London to raise the ship money, save

on the supposition that they now perceived that the King meant to go

as far as he could in the way of despotic power, and that it behoved

them to make a stand and to fight every inch of ground. This they

prepared to do. First they set their law officers to hunt up charters

and Acts of Parliament. The case complete, they presented a petition

to the King, stating that by certain Acts recited the City was exempt

from such obligations. However, the City got nothing by its petition

except a peremptory order to raise the £30,000 wanted, and to raise it

at once. The City gave way and proceeded to obey and to fit out seven

ships.

The impost of ship money, which ultimately caused Charles I. so

much trouble, was suggested to him in 1631 by Sir William Noye,

Attorney-General, who had found among the records in the Tower, not

only writs compelling the ports on certain occasions to provide ships

for the use of the King, but others obliging their neighbours of the

maritime counties to contribute to the expense. Writs were issued to

London and the different ports, October 20, 1634, ordering them to

supply a certain number of ships of a specified tonnage, sufficiently

armed and manned, to rendezvous at Portsmouth on the 1st of March 1635.

The writ is set out in Howell’s _State Trials_, vol. iii. pp. 830–832,

and also the proceedings of the Common Council, and their petition to

the King against it. By this contrivance the King obtained a supply of

£218,500, which he devoted to providing a fleet. Twelve of the judges

decided that the King had the right to make the levy. In the speech of

Lord Keeper Coventry to the judges assembled in the Star Chamber on

the 14th of February 1636 he stated that, “In the first year, when the

writs were directed to the ports and the maritime places, they received

little or no opposition; but in the second year, when they went

generally throughout the kingdom, although by some well obeyed, have

been refused by some, not only in some inland counties, but in some of

the maritime places.”

Charles then called upon the whole nation to provide ship money.

London was ordered to equip two more ships of 800 tons apiece. One,

Robert Chambers by name, brought the question of the King’s right into

the Court of the King’s Bench. Mr. Justice Berkeley, with amazing

servility, refused to allow the case to be argued, because, he said,

“there is a rule of law, and another of government,” thus actually

separating the law and government. It was by this time fully evident

that the King and Council were resolved upon the humbling of the

City. If there was any doubt left in men’s minds, that doubt was

surely dispelled by the action of the Star Chamber concerning the

Irish Estates. The Star Chamber, after hearing a suit against the

City charging them with mal-administration of their Irish property,

condemned the City to forfeiture of all their lands in Ireland—lands

which, as we have seen, the City had been forced to take up by James

the First, and on which they had spent very large sums of money. In

addition to losing their estates the citizens were fined £70,000. As

for the fine, it was easier to inflict it than to levy it. The City

let the Irish Estates go for the present, and paid the sum of £12,000

in full discharge of the fine. But the thing remained in their minds,

and one of the first acts of Parliament, when it was called, was to

reconsider the whole question (see p. 209).

[Illustration: GEORGE VILLIERS, FIRST DUKE (SECOND CREATION) OF

BUCKINGHAM (1592–1628)

From the portrait by Gerard Honthorst.]

I purpose in this place to interrupt the direct course of events in

order to show, by reference to certain political events of the time,

the mind of London.

In 1626 occurred the famous impeachment of the Duke of Buckingham by

Sir John Eliot, when the Commons pronounced their first refusal to

grant subsidies till grievances had been redressed. Eliot was arrested

and confined to the Tower; after ten days he was released, but the

Parliament was dissolved. The King appealed to the country to grant as

a free gift what the Commons had refused.

The answer to this appeal should have left no doubt in the minds of

the King’s friends that the words of Sir John Eliot stated the mind

of the whole country. As regards London and Westminster they replied

to those who would collect the subsidy with cries of “A Parliament! A

Parliament!”

Charles then tried the expedient of a forced loan with equal want of

success. It was found impossible to collect it.

In 1628 a new Parliament was called. In this House the Petition of

Right was drawn up, in which, among other things, it was claimed that

no man should be compelled to pay any kind of tax without the consent

of Parliament.

Charles gave way, secretly, after his manner, reserving certain rights

of his own, as that of imprisonment without appeal. The City knew

nothing of this duplicity; bells were rung; bonfires lighted; it was

assumed that the King had honestly given way, and the House granted a

subsidy. Then came the news of Buckingham’s murder.

There were two of Charles’s friends, and only two, for whom the City

afterwards entertained a hatred equal to that they felt for Buckingham.

But at that moment there was no one whose death was so ardently

desired. When the news was brought to London, grave citizens drank the

health of Felton. When the murderer was brought to London, the crowd

followed praying that the Lord would comfort him. Such was the mind

of the City towards the man whom Eliot had impeached; they received

the news of his murder with savage exultation. Then Charles made Laud

Bishop of London—the third of the three men whose death a few years

later the City welcomed with shouts of joy. It was not enough to

trample on the liberties of the people, he must now proceed to deprive

them of their religion. The memorable sitting in the House when the

Speaker was held in his chair while the Commons passed resolution after

resolution against innovations in religion and the illegal levy of

taxes, belongs to national history. It was with passionate excitement,

hardly restrained from tumult, that the news of this sitting and these

resolutions was received in the City. There were as yet no newspapers

to furnish day by day a report of the proceedings in the House, but

the tidings of each protest of the Commons and each arbitrary measure

of the King flew through the streets of the City as quickly as if by

means of the daily paper, so that every house was filled with the angry

murmurs of the citizens, and men in the streets and on ’Change looked

at each other and asked what would happen next.

Yet no word of armed resistance. The old time when one King could be

put down and another set up in his place was forgotten. Rebellion was

not yet even thought of. The Parliament was dissolved.

Laud, free to do what he pleased, proceeded whither his pleasure

led him. What he did is national history. The people of London, of

whom nine-tenths were Puritans (see p. 137), or, at least, strong

Protestants, saw with rage the severance of the ties connecting the

Church of England with the foreign Protestant churches; they saw the

forcible introduction of rites and ceremonies offensive to Puritan

feeling; the expulsion of Puritan clergy; the suppression of Puritan

lectures; the prohibition of the Geneva Bible, loved by all the people;

the desecration, as they thought, of their so-called Sabbath; the

restoration of ritualism; the return, as they believed, to Rome.

There seemed no hope of redress. The High Church party were in power;

the return to Rome seemed certain.

It was at this time (1629–1640) that the first great emigration to

America took place. It was an emigration of men and women of every

station and every trade; there were men of family and property among

them; there were also husbandmen and humble craftsmen; 1700 emigrants

went out in one year, 1630; in eleven years (1629–1640) 20,000 went

away. It seems as if the magnitude of the emigration should have

caused uneasiness, but probably the exodus of 2000 people a year, many

of whom went abroad to better themselves without regard to religion,

was considered to be useful to the plantations, and, so far as they

departed for the sake of religion, in no way prejudicial to the State.

The lists published in _The Original Emigrants to America_ show that

from the Port of London—the only port we need mention here—in the

year 1635 there were embarked and were transported—not in a criminal

sense—no fewer than 4890 emigrants, a fourth part of the whole number

mentioned above. There must have been some special reason for the

departure of so many in one year. We may find it, perhaps, in the

tyrannical and oppressive proceedings of Laud. He had deprived the

French and Flemish refugees of their right to worship after their

own manner, and thousands emigrated in consequence; he had assumed a

censorship of the Press which forbade such books as Foxe’s _Book of

Martyrs_; he restored the “wakes” or dedication feasts, the church

ales, the Sunday sports, the surplice, kneeling at the Communion; he

insisted on uniformity of worship; these are sufficient causes for

the great emigration of 1635. The book in which I find the names of

the emigrants gives them in separate lists according to the ships in

which they sailed; in most cases it gives their ages, in a few cases

their occupation and station—unfortunately in very few cases. Again, in

some cases the list gives the name of the parish where the statutory

declaration was made, viz. the oaths of allegiance, that of conformity

to the Church of England, and the assurance that the emigrant was not

a “subsidy man”—that is to say, a person owing money to the State on

account of subsidy due. One need not attach much importance to this

declaration, as yet no one had begun to dispute the duty of allegiance;

the Church of England included the Puritans, and as regards the

subsidy, those who were of humble rank owed nothing; those of the

better sort may very well have protested that they owed nothing—as by a

strictly legal view they did not.

It is a great pity that the names of the places from which the

emigrants came are not always indicated. We cannot, for instance,

learn how far this movement affected London. Certain City parishes

are given in which the emigrants made the statutory declaration,

but in the majority of cases the parishes are not indicated. I have

compiled a table, manifestly very incomplete, of those parishes which

are mentioned. It is quite evident that many of the lists belong to

London, though the fact is not stated. Thus there seems no reason why

St. Katherine’s—is it St. Katherine Cree or St. Katherine Coleman, or

St. Katherine’s by the Tower?—should have sent out 157 emigrants; St.

Mildred’s, Bread Street, 27; and other London parishes two or three

only.

St. Andrew, 1

St. Alphege, 4

All Hallows, Staining, 6

St. Botolph, Billingsgate, 1

St. Mildred, Bread Street, 27

St. Katherine’s, 157

St. Giles, Cripplegate, 6

Minories, 4

Stepney, 33

Tower Precinct, 2

St. Saviour, Southwark, 3

St. Olave, Southwark, 5

“Westminster,” 3

“Wapping,” 6

“Lombard Street,” 8

“Cheapside,” 3

“Fenchurch,” 1

The greatest contributor, however, to the 5000 was Gravesend, from

which place 1875 persons took the oaths and were sent on to the Port of

London to be shipped.

The sight of these crowds flocking to the Port of London to embark

on the ships bound for America; the provisioning of the ships for

the voyage; the talk about the places whither these persons were to

be carried; the reasons why they went; the escape for some from the

Laudian persecution; the hope, for others, of a new country where the

divine right of Kings would not be a subject of discussion; the grave

and serious divines who went on board these ships; the gentlemen who

joined them; the humble craftsmen who went with them, the Geneva Bible

in hand; can we doubt that these sights sank deep into the hearts of

the people? Can we doubt that the example, the prayers, the touching

farewells of these emigrants were sowing seeds which should produce

fruit eventful and terrible? “Our hearts,” said Winthrop, “shall be

fountains of tears for your everlasting welfare when we shall be in our

poor cottages in the wilderness.”

Doubt not that the people of London knew very well what a wilderness

this New England was; how hard and barren was its coast; how cruel was

its winter; how deadly and implacable were the Indians; they had heard

of seasons when the shell-fish of the sea-shore were the food of the

emigrants, when in the evening they knew not where they would find

their food in the morning, and when they assembled to worship under

escort and with armed sentinels.

We must not be led away to believe that after the first rush, when

divines, scholars, country gentlemen, and lawyers joined the list of

emigrants, the same class was continued. The lists before us point

rather in the other direction, as if in 1635, five years after the

first movement began, by far the larger number were craftsmen and

rustics. The age of the emigrants points to this conclusion. I have

taken a few consecutive pages at random. I find that out of 409 names

there were 106 under twenty; of these many were children and boys,

but the majority were eighteen and nineteen years old; 259 were men

and women—the men far outnumbering the women—in the full vigour of

early manhood, namely, over twenty and under thirty. There were

only thirty-four over forty and under fifty, and ten only of fifty

and upwards. In other words, I conclude from these lists that while

religion may have had a good deal to do with the emigration of this

year, a very large part of the attraction was the thought of adventure,

change, and better meat, which has always made the Englishman restless

and enterprising.

Where did the emigrants go? There were six places open to the emigrant

of the seventeenth century. And he went to them in the following

proportion during the year 1635:—

New England 69 ships

Virginia 21 „

Barbadoes 10 „

St. Christopher’s 6 „

Providence 2 „

Bermudas 2 „

Let us return to the constitutional part of the history.

Charles called no Parliament for eleven years. During that time, as

he could get no subsidies, he was compelled to practise every kind

of extortion; he enforced the old obligation to take the honour of

knighthood; he imposed fines for encroachments, for defective title

deeds, for recusancy.

Where he touched the City was, first, in reviving the old laws against

building in the suburbs, and in fining those living in houses built

twenty years before in assurance that the law was a dead letter; next,

in the levy of illegal and extortionate customs duties, which were

resisted by the City merchants, but at their peril. One of them said

that it was better to be a merchant in Turkey than in London; for

this he was sent to the Tower and fined £2000: thirdly, by the system

of monopolies, against which the City had protested under Elizabeth.

Everything became the subject of a monopoly. As was said afterwards in

the Long Parliament, “They sup in our cup; they dip in our dish; they

sit by our fire; we find them in the dye-fat, the wash bowls, and the

powdering tub. They have marked and sealed us from head to foot.”

All these grievances continued to roll up like a snowball, as silently

and as rapidly; yet it was an invisible snowball. Outwardly the King

and his friends were deceived by the general tranquillity; there was

offered very little resistance; there were manifested few open signs

of discontent; a general prosperity prevailed; trade was better than

it had been for many years; the English flag was flying over new seas

and in ports hitherto unknown; agriculture was advancing; the country

gentry were growing more easy in their means; every one seemed quiet.

In fact it was felt by the better class that there was no hurry. Sooner

or later there must be a Parliament; sooner or later the makeshifts of

the King would come to an end; there was no hurry. And the bill kept

rolling up. But the King, and Laud, and the Court party were deceived.

They mistook the quiet of the people, and especially of the City, for

submission and subjection; they thought that the spirit of resistance

was quelled.

Perhaps enough has been said to show the temper of the City. One or two

notes more.

We find a London clergyman calling on all Christians to “resist the

Bishops as robbers of souls, limbs of the Beast, and fathers of

Antichrist.” One pays very little heed to ecclesiastical censure, which

is generally cursing, at any time, but the vehemence of this language

seems worthy of remark.

When Prynne was carried from Palace Yard after the sentence which

deprived him of his ears, he was escorted by a hundred thousand

Londoners with prayers and cries of encouragement and of comfort.

In 1638 Hampden’s judges laid down the principle that “no statute

prohibiting arbitrary taxation could be pleaded against the King’s

will.” To this monstrous doctrine the City said nothing, the people

said nothing; they waited; sooner or later there must be a Parliament.

Next year began the Scotch troubles, the beginning of the end for

Charles.

In 1640 the King found himself compelled to call a Parliament; he must

have money.

This was the Short Parliament. I am quite sure that the news of the

summons was received on ’Change and wherever the merchants and citizens

of London met together with the quiet laughter of those who saw that

the day of redemption was drawing nigh. At last after eleven years

the Parliament was called together. Would the members prove staunch?

No fear of that. The City knew—no other institution or place knew so

well—the feeling of the country. The City always knew the feeling of

the country; there were a thousand correspondents between the City and

the country; the merchants had no doubt that the country was sound.

Laud’s clergy marked the change in the defiant air of the City, in the

exulting looks of the people; there were changes close at hand.

The House did prove staunch. Once more the Commons refused a subsidy

till grievances were redressed, and until security was obtained for

religion, for property, and for the liberties of the country. The

House was dissolved. Then the City laughed again and its people rubbed

their hands. For the King must have money, and without a Parliament he

could not get money. The Scotch business went on, and the snowball of

discontent and of grievances was now visible even to Charles the Blind.

Then began an interesting and an exciting time. The King tried to

persuade the City to lend him £100,000. The City steadfastly refused.

The Mayor and Aldermen were summoned to Whitehall; the King addressed

them; they were ordered to make out lists of the wealthier citizens;

they were dismissed, but were summoned again, and told that if they

did not pay £100,000 they would have to pay £200,000; and that if

they still refused that they would have to pay £300,000. They were

again dismissed, and told to prepare the list of rich citizens by the

following Sunday.

[Illustration: KING CHARLES I. THROWN OVERBOARD

From a satirical print in the British Museum.]

By this time the temper of London was roused. The Mayor and Aldermen

came on the following Sunday, but without that list. Instead

they brought a petition asking for redress. Some of them refused

absolutely to make out such a list, and were committed to prison,

viz. Sir Nicholas Rainton to the Marshalsea, Alderman Somers to the

Fleet, Alderman Atkins to the King’s Bench, and Alderman Gayre to

the Gatehouse. It was on Sunday, the 10th of May, that the Aldermen

went to prison. The reply of the City was a tumult, in which the

Archbishop’s Palace at Lambeth was attacked and the Archbishop’s life

was threatened. A royal warrant was issued commanding the Lord Mayor to

raise as many men as might be needed for the suppression of riots. At

the same time it was thought best to let the Aldermen go.

In June the Mayor was again summoned to show cause why the ship money

was not collected. He replied, plainly, that no one would pay it. Here

we see the secret of the City’s strength; the people only had to sit

down; they could not be forced to pay, either by the King, who had

no force at his disposal, or by the Aldermen, who had no police. The

people sat down and refused to pay. There were threats of debasing

the coinage unless the City yielded; the answer was that the Common

Council had no power to dispose of the citizens’ money. Charles

then endeavoured to raise £120,000 from the livery companies; they

replied—it was impossible to let go so fine an opportunity—that their

“stocks” had all been consumed in the Irish Estates—confiscated by the

King.

On the 3rd of November 1640 Charles, evidently suffering under great

depression of spirits, opened the Long Parliament.

Between the dissolution of the Short Parliament and the assembling of

the Long the City petitioned the King to call a Parliament for the

redress of grievances. Laud and the Privy Council tried to frighten the

City against signing it, but in vain. It was signed by 10,000 citizens.

Maitland gives it in full:—

“MOST GRACIOUS SOVEREIGN—

Being moved with the Duty and Obedience, which by the Laws your

Petitioners owe unto your sacred Majesty, they humbly present unto

your princely and pious Wisdom the several pressing Grievances

following, viz.—

1. The pressing and unusual Impositions upon Merchandize,

importing and exporting, and the urging and levying of Ship-Money,

notwithstanding both which, Merchants’ Ships and Goods have been

taken and destroyed both by Turkish and other Pirates.

2. The Multitude of Monopolies, Patents, and Warrants, whereby

Trade in the City, and other Parts of the Kingdom is much decayed.

3. The sundry Innovations in Matters of Religion.

4. The Oath and Canons lately enjoined by the late Convocation,

whereby your Petitioners are in Danger to be deprived of their

Ministers.

5. The Great Concourse of Papists, and their Inhabitations

in London, and the Suburbs, whereby they have more Means and

Opportunity of plotting and executing their designs against the

Religion established.

6. The seldom Calling, and sudden Dissolutions of Parliaments,

without the redress of your Subjects’ Grievances.

7. The Imprisonment of divers Citizens for Non-payment of

Ship-Money, and Impositions; and the prosecution of many others in

the Star-Chamber, for not conforming themselves to Committees in

Patents of Monopolies, whereby Trade is restrained.

8. The great Danger your sacred Person is exposed unto in

the present War, and the various fears that seized upon your

Petitioners and their Families by reason thereof; which Grievances

and Fears have occasioned so great a stop and distraction in Trade,

that your Petitioners can neither buy, sell, receive, or pay as

formerly, and tends to the utter Ruin of the Inhabitants of this

City, the Decay of Navigation, and Clothing, and the Manufactures

of this Kingdom.

[Illustration: From a contemporary print in the British Museum.]

{Transcription:

Englands Miraculous Preservation Emblematically Described, Erected

for a perpetuall _MONUMENT_ to Posterity.

_Though Englands Ark have furios storms indurd By Plotts of foes

and power of the sword Yet to this day by Gods almighty hand The

Ark’s preservd and almost safe at land_}

Your humble Petitioners conceiving that the said Grievances are

contrary to the Laws of this Kingdom, and finding by Experience

that they are not redressed by the ordinary Course of Justice, do

therefore most humbly beseech your most sacred Majesty to cause a

Parliament to be summoned with all convenient Speed, whereby they

may be relieved in the Premises.

And your Petitioners and loyal Subjects shall ever pray, etc.”

The fanatical temper of the people as regards the Catholics was shown

in their attack upon the Spanish Ambassador’s house in Bishopsgate

Street:—

“Upon the twenty-ninth of April the first tumultuous disorder (of

these Times) happened in London, when a great number of Apprentices

and others beset the Spanish Ambassador’s house in Bishopsgate

Street, threatening to pull it down, and to kill the Ambassador,

for permitting English papists to frequent his Chapel. For the

appeasing of this Commotion, the Lord-Mayor immediately repaired

to the Ambassador’s, where with much difficulty he prevailed

upon the Populace to disperse and return home. His Lordship had

no sooner allayed the fury of the Multitude, than he entered the

Ambassador’s House, and, being met by that Minister, was desired

to drop the point of the City Sword that was carried before him,

acquainting him, That he was then in a Place where the King of

Spain, his Master, had Jurisdiction; which the Mayor complying

with, the Ambassador told him that he had never seen so barbarous

an attempt; and desired to know whether this could justly be called

a civilized Nation, where the Laws of Nations and Hospitality were

so horribly violated? The Mayor replied, That the Rioters were the

very Refuse of the People, therefore entreated his Excellency not

to impute the Sedition to the City: to which the Ambassador smartly

answered, That he hardly knew how to call that a City, or even a

Society of Rational Creatures, which was seemingly divested both of

Humanity and Government.

[Illustration: THE TRUE MANER OF THE EXECUTION OF THOMAS EARLE OF

STRAFFORD. LORD Lieutenant of Ireland. upon Towerhill, the 12^{th} of

May, 1641.

From a contemporary Dutch print. E. Gardner’s Collection.]

[Illustration: THOMAS WENTWORTH, FIRST EARL OF STRAFFORD (1593–1641)

From the portrait by Sir Anthony Van Dyck.]

The Mayor, to extenuate the Crime as much as possible, told the

Ambassador, That the People were enraged because Mass was publicly

said in his Chapel. To which he replied, That the English Minister

at Madrid enjoyed the free Exercise of his Religion without the

least Disturbance; and that he would rather choose to lose his

Life than the Privileges due to him by Contract and the Law of

Nations: the Mayor returned, That the People were the more incensed

against him because the Citizens of the Popish Communion were

permitted to frequent his House at Mass, contrary to Law: The

Ambassador answered, That if the Mayor would prevent their coming,

he would not fend for them; but, if they came, he could neither

in Conscience to his Religion, nor his Master’s Honour, deny them

Access to their Devotions, or Protection to their Persons, while

they were with him. Wherefore a Guard was placed at his House,

which not only protected him from further Insults, but likewise the

Popish Citizens from frequenting Mass.

[Illustration: _A Plan of_ LONDON _and_ WESTMINSTER

_Shewing the Forts erected by Order of the Parliament in 1643 & the

Desolation by the Fire in 1666_

From a contemporary print.]

This Storm was no sooner over than another far more impetuous

began; for a Discovery being made of some desperate Designs both

at home and abroad, of bringing up the Army to London to surprise

the Tower, and favour the Earl of Strafford’s escape, divers

Ministers from their Pulpits, on the Sunday following, shewed to

their several Auditories the Necessity of having Justice speedily

executed upon some great Delinquents; which so greatly irritated

and inflamed the Citizens, that the Day after they, to the Number

of Six Thousand, armed with Swords, Staves, and Cudgels, ran to

Westminster; and posting themselves in the Avenues leading to the

House of Lords, stopped all Coaches, and incessantly cried out for

Justice against Strafford.”

We now come to events which belong to the national history. We may

therefore pass them over except where they specially touch upon London.

The discovery of the “Army Plot” made Strafford’s fate certain, and

his death was the cause of savage exultation in the City; a countless

multitude assembled to see him die; the people ran and rode from the

scene waving their hats and crying “His head is off.”

The Grand Remonstrance laid before the House called forth the

opposition of a small Royalist party, which only strengthened the

cause. London was zealous for the cause; associations were formed in

every county. I pass over the events which followed.

Civil War began in July 1642. Marston Moor in 1644 and Naseby in 1645

practically finished it.

The importance of the City in making the war possible can hardly be

overestimated. They began with a force of 8000 trained bands, well

drilled and well handled. When the breach between King and Commons

could no longer be averted, the City raised £100,000 with alacrity at

the request of the latter. An immense quantity of plate was brought in,

and a levy of £50,000 was laid upon all strangers and aliens residing

in the City. That was in June 1642. When in the autumn it was reported

that Prince Rupert was marching on London, the City became a huge camp;

nothing went on but arming, training, practising, marching. The whole

City was Roundhead; those few who remained loyal—the “malignants”—were

arrested and clapped into prison as soon as they could be caught. This

unanimity did not continue. The Royalists presently plucked up heart

and, appearing with their badges, found out how strong they were.

A reaction set in when it was discovered that the war would not be

finished in a single campaign and that it entailed heavy sacrifices,

including the shutting of shops and the temporary ruin of trade. A

stormy gathering was held in the Guildhall, at which there were loud

cries for peace. The Common Council therefore drew up two petitions,

one for the King and one for the Parliament, advocating peace, or at

least a truce for deliberation.

They even sent a deputation to the King, who received the members

graciously and promised a reply, which quickly followed. It is a very

long document, in which the King pointed out the wickedness of fighting

against him; and he ordered his loyal subjects to begin the cause of

peace by arresting the Mayor.

On the 21st of November 1642, about a month after the battle of

Edgehill, a suspicious-looking boat was discovered by the pinnace

guarding the Thames for the City and Parliament. She was a Gravesend

boat and should have put in at Billingsgate. Instead of this, the tide

being favourable, she continued her course and shot the bridge. The

pinnace gave chase, and presently caught up with her and seized her.

The only passenger on board was a gentleman, who was carrying from

Colonel Goring a letter—it is not stated to whom—containing lists of

the supplies of men expected by the King from Holland and Denmark.

Nothing could have been more opportune than such a capture; the City

was still lukewarm in the cause; to afford them clear proof that

the King intended to fight them with Danes and Dutchmen would fire

their blood as nothing else would do, not even defeat and disaster.

Pennington, who was Mayor and a Parliamentarian heart and soul,

joyfully received the letter, ordered copies to be made and to be

read in every church on Sunday, the very next day, and a subscription

to be opened at once for carrying on the war. In the church of St.

Bartholomew by the Exchange, twenty-seven persons subscribed various

sums, amounting in all to £290. In St. Margaret’s, Lothbury, about

£350 were subscribed. Mr. Edwin Freshfield, who relates this story

(_Archæologia_, xlv.), is of opinion that the whole business was

invented by the Mayor. He wanted money, he wanted to rouse the

citizens, he wanted them to be committed openly. In this he succeeded

perfectly; he raised £30,000, he fired their passions, he made them

commit themselves in writing. From this moment there was no looking

back for the City of London.

In February 1643, as the attack upon London by the Royalist army seemed

threatening, the Common Council passed an Act for the defence of the

City by a line of redoubts and fortifications, which were taken in

hand and executed without delay. It has been assumed that this work

consisted of a wall with redoubts and bastions at intervals. A plan of

the wall shows an enormous work, eleven miles long, running all round

London. This view has been adopted by later writers. No one seems to

have remarked on the impossibility of so colossal a fortification being

constructed in the brief space of three or four weeks even if the whole

population worked day and night; and no one seems to have discovered

that it was absurd to construct such a wall where the enemy could not

possibly attack it, or that it should have been thought desirable to

construct a wall which it would have required at least 200,000 men to

defend. The historian also might have thought it still more remarkable

that such enormous earth-works, with stone bastions, entailing such

enormous labour, should have been undertaken with so much zeal and

unanimity; and, finally, he might have asked himself how it came to

pass that not a vestige of the work should have remained, even though

the greater part of the ground covered was free from buildings down to

the beginning of this century.

Sharpe, however (_London and the Kingdom_, iii. 431), gives the actual

“Resolution of the Common Council for putting the City and Suburbs into

a posture of defence, 23rd February 1643:”—

“_Journal_ 40, fo. 52.

That a small fort conteyning one bulwark and halfe and a battery in

the reare of the flanck be made at Gravell lane end. A horne worke

with two flanckers be placed at Whitechapell windmills. One redoubt

with two flanckers betwixt Whitechapel Church and Shoreditch. Two

redoubts with flanckers neere Shoreditch church with a battery. At

the windmill in Islington way, a battery and brestwork round about.

A small redoubt neere Islington pound. A battery and brestwork on

the hill neere Clarkenwell towards Hampstead way. Two batteries and

a brestworke at Southampton House. One redoubt with two flanckers

by St. Giles in the Fields, another small worke neere the turning.

A quadrant forte with fower halfe bulwarks crosse Tyborne highway

at the second turning that goeth towards Westminster. At Hide parke

corner a large forte with flanckers on all sides. At the corner of

the lord Gorings brick wall next the fields a redoubt and a battery

where the Court of Guard now is at the lower end of the lord

Gorings wall, the brestwork to be made forwarder. In Tuttle fields

a battery brestworke, and the ditches to be scowred. That at the

end of every street which is left open to enter into the suburbs

of this citty, defenceable brestworks be made or there already

erected, repayred with turnepikes muskett proof, and that all the

passages into the suburbs on the north side the river except five,

viz.: the way from St. James towards Charing Crosse, the upper end

of Saint Giles in Holborne, the further end of St. John Street

towards Islington, Shoreditch church, and Whitechapell be stopped

up. That the courtes of guard and the rayles or barrs at the utmost

partes of the freedome be made defensible, and turnpikes placed

there in lieu of the chaynes all muskett proof. And that all the

shedds and buildings that joyne to the outside of the wall be taken

downe. And that all the bulwarkes be fitted at the gates and walls

soe that the flanckes of the wall and streets before the gates

may be cleared and that the gates and bulwarkes be furnished with

ordnance.”

It will be seen that there is not one word about a new wall round

London. The so-called fortifications were simply small redoubts and

bastions at certain fixed points.

How the London trained bands went out to fight, how well they stood

their ground, in what actions they took their part, will be found in

the many histories of that war which still claims its fierce adherents

and still awakens the passions of a partisan, whoever relates it. The

constancy of the City was rewarded by the stoppage of trade and the

ruin of many merchants, while the soldiers in the trained bands were

shopkeepers and skilled craftsmen, to whom long continuance in the

field was ruin. In 1644 the disaffection of the men amounted almost to

mutiny.

On the temper and discipline of the City trained bands Sharpe thus

speaks:—

“That the city trained bands had done good service in their day

no one will deny, but the time was fast approaching when it would

be necessary to raise an army of men willing to devote themselves

to the military life as a profession. For permanent service in

the field the London trained bands were not to be relied on. ‘In

these two days’ march,’ wrote Waller (2 July) to the Committee

of Both Kingdoms, ‘I was extremely plagued with the mutinies of

the City Brigade, who are grown to that height of disorder that

I have no hope to retain them, being come to their old song of

“Home! Home!”’ There was, he said, only one remedy for this, and

that was a standing army, however small:—‘My lords, I write these

particulars to let you know that an army compounded of these men

will never go through with your service, and till you have an army

merely your own, that you may command, it is in a manner impossible

to do anything of importance.’ The junction of his forces with

those under Browne, who had been despatched (23 June) to protect

the country between London and the royalist army, served only to

increase the general discontent. ‘My London regiments,’ he wrote

(8 July), ‘immediately looked on his [_i.e._ Browne’s] forces as

sent to relieve them, and without expectation of further orders,

are most of them gone away; yesterday no less than 400 out of one

regiment quitted their colours. On the other side, Major-General

Browne’s men, being most of them trained band men of Essex and

Hertfordshire, are so mutinous and uncommandable that there is

no hope of their stay. They are likewise upon their march home

again. Yesterday they were like to have killed their Major-General,

and they have hurt him in the face.... I am confident that above

2000 Londoners ran away from their colours.’ The same spirit of

insubordination manifested itself again when Waller threw himself

(20 July) into Abingdon. Most of his troops were only too anxious

to leave him, whilst the Londoners especially refused to stir ‘one

foot further, except it be home.’”

[Illustration: A SOLDIER OF THE TIME OF KING JAMES THE FIRST ARMED

WITH A CALIVER

From a contemporary print.]

The City, however, despite these rules, remained staunch to the

Parliamentary cause; in spite of hard times, London raised the money to

carry on the war; and, as in former cases, the winning side proved to

be that which London had espoused.

Early in 1645 the army was remodelled on a more permanent footing,

in which the men were to receive regular pay and the officers to

be appointed for efficiency alone. Parliament resolved on borrowing

£80,000 of the City; the Committee of Militia raised a sufficient

number of men to guard the new redoubts and forts, and the City

regiments were brought up to their full strength.

In June 1645 the Common Council presented a petition to Parliament

calling attention to what they considered the causes of their ill

success, and asking, among other things, that Fairfax might have a

free hand and not be hampered by orders from Westminster. This view

was favourably received. Fairfax chose his own tactics; he marched in

pursuit of the Royal army, which he met—and fought—at Naseby on June 14.

After Naseby the City entertained both Houses of Parliament with a

Thanksgiving sermon in Christ Church, Newgate. This was the old Grey

Friars Church, a splendid building then still standing, though its

monuments and fine carved work were gone. After the sermon there was a

banquet in Grocers’ Hall; the Hall was not large enough for everybody,

therefore the Common Council dined at another Company’s hall. The day

after the dinner the Council had to consider what was to be done with

the 3000 Royalist prisoners. They confined them in the south cloister

and the Convocation House of St. Paul’s. How long they were kept there;

how they were fed; what became of them ultimately, one knows not.

Perhaps they were treated as Cromwell afterwards treated the Scotch

prisoners taken at Worcester (see p. 68).

The City also raised £31,000 for the pay of the Scots who were marching

south. In July of the same year they raised 1000 light horse and 500

dragoons, and in September 500 light horse and the same number of

dragoons.

The events which followed Naseby until the trial and execution of the

King would not concern us but for the part played by the City. They

constitute a chapter in which the completion of the Civil War is mixed

up with the dissension of the Presbyterians and the Independents,

two sects equally intolerant and equally determined to obtain the

supremacy. I have abridged the business so far as the City is concerned

in the paragraph which follows. The whole story, when one reads it in

detail, makes one almost inclined to condone the crimes of the King

against the civil liberties of the people, since his enemies were

themselves so determined against their religious liberties.

The Parliament desired to force a Presbyterian form of worship on the

City, and to lay down laws for the election of elders. This was not

at all the view of the City, which desired freedom from Parliamentary

control in matters of religion. The ministers of the City parish

churches drew up their own list of reforms; the citizens themselves

sent a petition to Parliament giving their views. The House of Commons

returned an answer of an ungracious character. They knew their own

duties and would carry them through.

[Illustration: TRIAL OF KING CHARLES I., JANUARY 1648

From an engraving of the painting by William Fisk.]

The City at the same time came to a quarrel with Parliament on the

governing of the militia raised within the weekly bills of mortality.

Parliament was ready to allow them the command over the militia

within the Liberties, but the City wished to include within the area

of command all the parishes and parts covered by the weekly bills of

mortality.

The three years preceding the execution of Charles were a troubled and

an uneasy time for the City.

On September the 7th, 1646, the City was asked by Parliament to

consider ways and means for raising £200,000, being half of the sum

claimed by the Scots for their expenses. On the 9th they reported a

scheme for raising money by the excise and by the sale of the Bishop’s

lands.

On December 19th the City sent a petition to Parliament for the

redress of grievances. They demanded the disbandment of the army, the

suppression of heresy, the union of the two kingdoms, the free election

of members of Parliament, and the command of their own militia. The

“disbandment of the army” is a point that must be especially noted

because it marks the growing terror of the army.

It was necessary, before the army could be disbanded, to settle

the arrears of pay. The men were invited to volunteer for service

in Ireland. They asked for their pay. Parliament proposed to raise

£200,000, not for the arrears, but for service in England and Ireland.

At the same time application was made to the City for ways and means

to raise this large sum. And the City was put into good temper by an

ordinance for a new Militia Committee.

But the disbanded army had to look on while they themselves could

get no pay, and the City militia received their pay regularly. Riots

took place; companies of the disbanded besieged the House of Commons

demanding their arrears. These riots took place early in June 1647.

On the 11th of June the City was informed that Fairfax, with the army,

was on his way to London. The Mayor replied that they had no quarrel

with the army; that they had themselves presented a humble address

to Parliament in favour of the just demands of the army; and that if

Fairfax would kindly keep at a distance of thirty miles, the City would

be much obliged.

Fairfax declared that the last demand was impossible so long as

enlistments were continued in the trained bands and auxiliaries, and

that the movements of the army depended very much on the reception that

might be given to certain papers just laid before the House of Lords.

The “papers,” in fact, asserted the right of the army to speak in the

name of the people, and demanded the expulsion from the House of eleven

members who had misrepresented the army and raised forces for a new

war. Among them was Glyn, the City Recorder.

The Mayor, Sir John Gayre, on finding that the army was really marching

south, called out the newly-enlisted trained bands. It appeared that

they only existed on paper; in many companies not ten men appeared;

in many others none but officers. It became evident that a different

tone must be adopted. Fairfax was assured that the new enlistments had

been stopped. Even then that general was not satisfied. He now said

that he could not stop his army until the Parliament had returned a

satisfactory answer to the “papers” already mentioned. The sending

of these letters backwards and forwards produced little effect for a

time—except tumults of apprentices and disturbances by _reformadoes_,

or disbanded soldiers.

[Illustration: SIR THOMAS FAIRFAX (1612–1671) AND HIS WIFE

From the painting by William Dobson in the National Portrait Gallery,

London.]

On July 9th the Parliament agreed to the demands of Fairfax, and

ordered all disbanded soldiers to quit the City. On July 11th the

Army Council recommended the Parliament to take into their own hands

again the command of the City militia. This was done, but the City had

their say in the matter. Petitions to the House were drawn up; they

were carried to Westminster by the sheriffs and members of the Common

Council, followed by an enormous crowd of angry and excited apprentices

and citizens. There was a long debate; the Commons refused to give

way; the crowd grew more threatening; at last, at eight o’clock in the

evening, the Commons yielded.

It was now time for the City to consider measures of defence. The

trained bands were sent to man the works, and all the citizens who

could carry arms were ordered to attend at a general muster. It became

obvious, however, that armed resistance to the army was out of the

question, and the City made haste to submit and to hope for favourable

terms. The City forts were surrendered. Fairfax entered the lines of

fortification and marched upon Westminster. On the following day the

army marched through the City doing no kind of harm to any one. Fairfax

and his officers were invited to a grand banquet at Grocers’ Hall, and

so the business ended amicably, as it seemed.

[Illustration: TRIAL OF KING CHARLES I. JANUARY 20–27, 1648

“It was remarkt y^t the Gold Head dropt of y^e King’s Cane y^tday

w^{th}out any visible cause.”

From a contemporary print. E. Gardner’s Collection.]

The banquet did not interfere, however, with the projects of Fairfax

and the army. The City was called upon for £50,000 towards the arrears

of pay; the Lord Mayor, Sir John Gayre, Thomas Cullons, one of the

Sheriffs, and three Aldermen were impeached for threatening the Commons

and for inciting to fresh war. They were all sent to the Tower. When

they were brought for trial before the Lords, they refused to kneel,

took exception to the jurisdiction of the Houses, and were all fined

and committed again to the Tower, where they lay for two months more,

when they were liberated.

In 1648 the City carried one point and gained the command of their own

militia. A deputation of Lords and Commons attended the Court of Common

Council, and assured them that not only did they cheerfully commit to

them the command of the militia, but that they had resolved on making

no change in the constitution of the country with King, Lords, and

Commons. The City at this juncture resolved to stand by the Parliament;

they asked for the return of the Recorder, the Aldermen, and the other

citizens who were imprisoned in the Tower.

The miserable condition of trade naturally brought about discontent,

which turned to disaffection. The Royalist party made an excuse of

a rising in Kent to petition the Parliament for a personal treaty

with the King; the same people also called upon the Court of Common

Council to summon a Common Hall—that is, a meeting of the whole body of

freemen. The Court took time to consider the matter: in other words,

to see their way to refusing it, which they did at last, on the ground

of the distraction of the times. The longing for peace was shown by

petition after petition from the City, all in the same strain, that the

King should be approached personally; the City offered to assure his

safety if he were placed in their hands.

In addition to the other troubles, the mob was now growing more

Royalist. They insulted the Speaker; they rescued war prisoners; they

secretly enlisted and sent out horses for the Royalist enemy. The

Council asked the House that a death penalty should be inflicted on any

person who caused a tumult or riot, and that no man who had ever fought

against the Parliament should be allowed to reside within thirty miles

of London. These two requests reveal a time of great uneasiness and

general suspicion.

The end of this state of things was now rapidly approaching. The

Parliament sent fifteen commissioners to open the Treaty of Newport in

September. At the end of November the army declared that the Parliament

must be dissolved. Fairfax marched into London (November 30, 1648) and

demanded a sum of £40,000 to be paid the next day. The Council sent

him £10,000 and promised the rest; Fairfax took up his quarters at

Whitehall, and sent into the City for 3800 beds. A week later, neither

money nor beds having been provided, Fairfax arrested Major-General

Browne, one of the sheriffs, with certain others, on a charge of having

joined in calling upon the Scots to invade England. He also seized

on the sum of £27,000 lying in Goldsmiths’ and Weavers’ Halls. This

money, he told the City, he intended to keep until they sent him the

£40,000. He refused meantime to withdraw his troops who were quartered

on the City. The money was found. In the municipal elections the new

Mayor, Abraham Reynardson, was a Royalist, and well known to be

such. It was feared by the Commons, now the Rump, that the elections

of December to the Common Council would also be Royalist. Accordingly

the House passed an ordinance excluding “malignants.” In this way no

citizen was admitted who had subscribed to any petition for a personal

treaty with the King. When the new Council assembled, the Mayor ordered

them to take the oath of allegiance, which had not yet been abolished.

This they refused. The Commons ordered the Mayor to suspend the oath

altogether. Under these conditions the Council met, and although

the Mayor refused to acknowledge their authority, they proceeded to

consider a petition asking the House “to execute justice impartially

and vigorously ‘upon all the grand and capital authors, contrivers of

and actors in the late wars against Parliament and kingdom, from the

highest to the lowest,’ and to take steps, as the supreme power of the

nation, for the preservation of peace and the recovery of trade and

credit.”

[Illustration: _ENGLANDS ROYAL PATTERN_ or the Execution of _KING

CHARLES_ y^e 1^{st} Jan^y 30.

EXECUTION OF CHARLES I., JANUARY 30, 1648

From a contemporary print. E. Gardner’s Collection.]

The Royalist Lord Mayor with his Aldermen—only two being present—rose

and left the Court rather than sanction such a petition by their

presence. It must be remembered that the date of this meeting was the

18th of January 1648, and that the Court for the trial of Charles had

been already determined. When the Mayor and Aldermen had left there

was no Court. But those present proceeded with their petition. Among

the judges of King Charles were nominated five Aldermen, viz. Isaac

Pennington, Thomas Andrews, Thomas Atkins, Rowland Wilson, and John

Fowke. Only the two first took part in the trial, and Wilson refused

to serve. Bradshaw, the President, had been judge of the Sheriffs’

Court in the Wood Street Compter. Two citizens, Tichborne and Row,

were on the Commission. The trial of Charles—the most momentous in its

consequences of any event since the Conquest or the granting of the

Great Charter—belongs to the national history. It began on the 20th

of January; it concluded on the 27th; and on the 30th the King was

beheaded.

CHAPTER III

THE CITY AND THE CIVIL WAR

The City entered upon a war which was to linger on for eight years,

in the firm conviction that it would be finished in a few months. The

men who went out to fight expected to be back again in their shops

and their workrooms before long. This belief, while it stimulated the

enlistment of fighting men and forbade the contemplation of distress

and bankruptcy in case the war should continue, caused very grave

discontent when it became evident that a long struggle was before the

country.

I propose in this chapter to illustrate the condition of the City

during this period from contemporary authorities not, I hope, already

too well known.

As is natural at such a time, the City was full of dangers on account

of suspicion. The experiences of James Howell when he was arrested as a

spy show how perilous it was to go abroad in the streets:—

“I was lately come to London upon some occasions of mine own, and I

had been divers times in Westminster Hall, where I conversed with many

Parliament-men of my Acquaintance, but one morning betimes there rushed

into my Chamber five armed Men with Swords, Pistols, and Bills, and

told me they had a warrant from the Parliament for me; I desired to

see their Warrant, they denied it; I desired to see the date of it,

they denied it; I desired to see my Name in the Warrant, they denied

all. At last one of them pulled a greasy Paper out of his pocket,

and shewed me only three or four names subscribed, and no more; so

they rushed presently into my Closet, and seized on all my Papers and

Letters, and anything that was Manuscript; and many printed Books they

took also, and hurl’d all into a great hair Trunk which they carried

away with them. I had taken a little Physic that morning, and with

very much ado they suffered me to stay in my Chamber with two Guards

upon me, till the evening; at which time they brought me before the

Committee for examination, where I confess I found good respect; and

being brought up to the Close Committee for examination, I was ordered

to be forthcoming, till some papers of mine were perused, and Mr.

Corbet was appointed to do it. Some days after, I came to Mr. Corbet,

and he told me he had perused them, and could find nothing that might

give offence. Hereupon I desired him to make a report to the House,

according to which (as I was told) he did very fairly; yet such was

my hard Hap, that I was committed to the Fleet, where I am now under

close restraint; and, as far as I see, I must lie at dead Anchor in

this Fleet, a long time, unless some gentle Gale blow thence to make me

launch out.”

How the war affected quiet and peaceful citizens may be gathered from

two cases, instanced by Dugdale:—

“The miseries and calamities which of late have happened in this

confused place of England are so many that they furnish the discourse

both of this and of other nations, who, notwithstanding, are not able

to express them all. I shall now relate you only two, befalling within

these few days, and to this end, that, by the true report of these

(which, by men of sundry passions, may be prevented), others of the

like nature, if it please God, may be prevented. Of the one, I have

certaine information; of the other, I myselfe was an eye-witness.

The first happened, at Acton, some six miles distant from London,

where lived a gentleman, reported and believed to be different in

religion (as too many nowadays are, which we know to be the cause of

all our evils) from the Church of England; but in the voice of most

of his neighbours, a sober, moderate, and charitable-minded man. This

gentleman, having in his house no more but one ancient gentlewoman, his

kinswoman, whom he intrusted as his housekeeper, with one serving man

and maide, had his house besett with divers companies of soldiers, who

had listed themselves for the service of the King and Parliament, and

were in pay and command under officers; where, after they had forced

him to open the gates by threatning words, they entered the house,

and so strangely despoiled him that they left him not a bed, bedstead,

table, doore, or glasse window, chest, trunk, or the smallest utensil,

but sold all for very small prices before his servants’ faces, some of

them having forced him before on foote to London; and for his bills,

bonds, letters, and other writings the most part they tore in pieces,

and strewed them about the house; others some they sent up to London.

He hath, with much industry and long time, rarely furnished a plot of

ground with the choicest flowers and outlandish trees which he could

procure, which they plucked up by the roots, as many as they could, and

the rest left so desolate that, whereas it was thought the finest and

most curious garden in all those parts, there is now left nothing but

the ruines of Art and Nature.

The other outrage, which with griefe I saw, was committed in Radcliffe

Highway, Tuesday last, being the 23 of this instant August, where lived

an ancient gentleman in good fashion, love and credit amongst his

neighbours for many years space. I was informed, and might likewise

guesse by his aspect, that he was above fourscore, and his wife not

much distant from his time. This poor man was, like manner, assaulted

by another company of souldiers, who are billeted thereabouts until the

drum commands them to do service, where, having approached his doore,

they drew out a paper, which they read,—whether a pretense of authority

or what else I cannot easily conjecture. And thereupon they rushed

into the house, rifled him of all that was in the house, breaking and

battering many of the goods, and, having brought them out, sold them

to such persons as would buy them at any rates, and this at noone day,

and in the sight of one thousand people: one feather-bed I saw sold

for four shillings, and one flock-bed for one shilling; and many other

things at I know not what prises, leaving him nothing but naked walls

and one stoole, which the old man sate upon, he being lame and decrepit

with old age. The head-borough of the place endeavoured to rescue some

of the goods, which were afterwards violently taken againe out of his

house. After the riot was thus ended, they marched away with a drum;

and then I made bold to goe into this distressed man’s house, where I

found him sitting upon his only stoole, and with the teares falling

downe his hoary beard, from whence, having administered the best

comfort that I could, I departed.”

Before long it became manifest that the war was pressing very severely

upon the City. The complaints of all classes were deep and loud; there

arose the inevitable reaction. It seemed at one time as if history

was about to repeat itself and that the desertion of London by the

Britons in the fifth century, owing to the stoppage of supplies, was

about to be repeated in the seventeenth. There was no foreign trade;

the Royalist ships commanded the German Ocean; the west of England

sent up no wool; the east sent up no provisions; the north sent up no

coal; there was no money; the shops stood open, but the master was

away with the trained bands; the craftsman’s children wanted bread,

but the breadwinner was away with Fairfax. The industries ceased,

for the markets were closed; after every battle, soldiers, either

disbanded or deserters, swarmed into London as a place of refuge; the

Royalist minority was a constant source of danger; there were religious

differences innumerable, each as intolerant as the Church of Rome; the

citizens were, for the most part, Presbyterian; but they desired not

to have a national, but a free, Church; they wanted the Church to be

governed by herself, and not by Parliament; they petitioned Parliament

in this sense; they also petitioned the House for intolerance pure and

simple; they would have no freedom of thought, or speech, or doctrine

in religion.

To take instances of hardship. In 1642 the people in the Strand, who

chiefly lived by letting lodgings, were in despair, having to pawn

their furniture in order to pay the rent, their lodgings being all

empty. The lawyers at the Guildhall were busy, but it was over the

affairs of an incredible number of bankrupts; at the Royal Exchange

there was no business transacted, nor any discourse all day long except

about the news of the day. In the shops the keepers had nothing to do

but to visit and to condole with each other. London, as it always had

been, was a receiving house and a distributing house for the whole

country, and in this time of civil war there was nothing to distribute

and nothing to receive. As a finishing stroke, it is added that

the ladies who formed the greater part of the population of Covent

Garden, Drury Lane, and Long Acre were reduced to a condition which is

described in a tract of the time as a “lump of amazement.” For this

quarter and these ladies existed not by the citizens, though the morals

of the City were by no means without reproach, but by the visitors who

in quiet times flocked to London.

Amid a confused babble of petitions and letters, and imprisonments and

fines, one episode stands out clear and strong. It is the petition of

the women, calling themselves “many civilly disposed women,” to the

Parliament, praying for a peace. The petition was cleverly drawn up—one

suspects a masculine hand:—

“That your Petitioners (tho’ of the weaker Sex) do too sensibly

perceive the ensuing Desolation of this Kingdom, unless by some

timely Means your Honours provide for the Speedy Recovery thereof.

Your Honours are the Physicians that can, by God’s special and

miraculous Blessing (which we humbly implore), restore this

languishing Nation, and our bleeding Sister the kingdom of Ireland,

which hath now almost breathed her last Gasp.

We need not dictate to your Eagle-eyed Judgements the Way; Our

only Desire is, that God’s Glory, in the true Reformed Protestant

Religion, may be preserved, the just Prerogatives and Privileges of

King and Parliament maintained, the true Liberties and Properties

of the Subject, according to the known Laws of the Land, restored,

and all honourable Ways and Means for a speedy Peace endeavoured.

May it therefore please your Honours, that some speedy Course

may be taken for the Settlement of the true Reformed Protestant

Religion, for the Glory of God, and the Renovation of Trade, for

the Benefit of the Subject, they being the Soul and Body of the

Kingdom.

And your Petitioners, with many Millions of afflicted Souls,

groaning under the Burden of these Times of Distress, shall (as

bound) pray, etc.”

It was taken to Westminster by two or three thousand women with white

ribbons in their hats. The Commons received and heard the petition;

they even gave them an answer. They had no doubt of speedily arriving

at a peace; meantime the petitioners were enjoined to return to their

own homes. By this time their numbers were swollen to five thousand and

more, among them being men dressed as women. They flocked round the

door of the House of Commons, crying “Peace! Peace!” and presently,

“Give us those Traitors that are against Peace, that we may tear them

to pieces! Give us that dog Pym!” The trained bands were sent for, but

were received by these Amazons with brick-bats, whereupon the soldiers

fired upon the women, killed some, and dispersed the rest.

The violence and insolence of the mob during this unhappy time shows

the want of executive strength in the City. Measures are passed; no one

heeds them; a riot is suppressed and it breaks out again; disbanded

soldiers swarm in the streets and rob and plunder as they please.

We have seen how the mob murdered Dr. Lamb. On another occasion the

mob had forced its way into the Court of High Commission. They had

assembled at Westminster, crying “No Bishops!” They had been driven

down King Street by officers with drawn swords. After the war broke

out the mob was divided between the two factions, each having its own

badge. When the war brought the usual troubles, with want of money and

of trade, both sides joined and riotously clamoured for peace. As

early as 1643, with six years of war before it, the mob besieged the

House of Commons, clamouring for peace. The most remarkable effort of

the mob was that of the “Solemn Engagement” in 1647 related by Sharpe:—

“A week later (21 July) a mob of apprentices, reformadoes,

watermen and other disaffected persons met at Skinner’s Hall, and

one and all signed a solemn Engagement pledging themselves to

maintain the Covenant and to procure the king’s restoration to

power on the terms offered by him on the 12th May last, viz. the

abandonment of the episcopacy for three years and the militia for

ten. An endeavour was made to enlist the support of the municipal

authorities to this engagement, but a letter from Fairfax (23 July)

soon gave them to understand that the army looked on the matter as

one ‘set on foot by the malice of some desperate-minded men, this

being their last engine for the putting all into confusion when

they could not accomplish their wicked ends by other means.’ On the

24th both Houses joined in denouncing the Solemn Engagement of the

City, their declaration against it being ordered to be published by

beat of drum and sound of trumpet through London and Westminster,

and within the lines of communication. Any one found subscribing

his name to the engagement after such publication would be adjudged

guilty of high treason.”

Another serious outbreak took place later, on Sunday, April 10, 1648.

A multitude was assembled in Moorfields to drink and play. A company

of trained bands endeavoured to suppress the profanation of the day,

and were themselves set upon and dispersed. The mob, gathering greater

strength, went off to Whitehall, where they were driven back by the

troops. Returning to the City, they broke open houses and magazines,

seized the gates and chains, attacked the Lord Mayor’s house, and

called upon everybody to join them for God and King Charles. General

Fairfax let them alone one night, and in the morning sent out troops,

and after some resistance dispersed them.

Every success or partial success made the Royalist party in the City

more fearless and undisguised; sometimes they mounted cockades;

sometimes they burned bonfires; sometimes they openly cried for the

King; the ’prentices, who had been so ready to petition against the

Bishops, turned round. Though the actual weight of numbers and of

opinions was in favour of the Parliament, there was a very strong party

who were always looking for an opportunity to demonstrate, if not to

rise, for the King. One has only to consult the pages of Evelyn in

order to understand the strength of the Royalist party even in times of

the deepest adversity.

I have already quoted from Howell. Let him speak again concerning the

condition of the City at this time:—

“Touching the condition of Things here, you shall understand that

our Miseries lengthen with our Days; for tho’ the Sun and the

Spring advance nearer us, yet our Times are not grown a whit the

more comfortable. I am afraid this City has fooled herself into

a Slavery; the Army, tho’ forbidden to come within ten Miles of

her by order of Parliament, quarters now in the Bowels of her;

they threaten to break her Percullies, Posts, and Chains, to

make her previous upon all occasions; they have secured also the

Tower, with Addition of Strength for themselves; besides a famine

doth insensibly creep upon us, and the Mint is starved for want

of Bullion; Trade, which was ever the Sinew of this Island, doth

visibly decay, and the insurance of ships is risen from two to ten

in the hundred; our Gold is engrossed in private hands, or gone

beyond Sea to travel without License; and much I believe of it is

returned to the Earth (whence it first came) to be buried where our

descendants may chance to find it a thousand years hence, if the

world lasts so long; so that the exchanging of white earth into red

(I mean Silver into Gold) is now above six in the hundred; and all

these, with many more, are the dismal effects and concomitants of a

Civil War. ’Tis true, we have had many such black days in England

in former Ages; but those paralleled to the present are as a Shadow

of a Mountain compared to the Eclipse of the Moon.”

The weaker side always takes refuge in epigrams. I have before me a

little book called _Two Centuries of Paul’s Churchyard_, which contains

(1) a list of imaginary books, (2) questions for tender consciences.

The following extracts will show the temper of the Royalists in London

during the Civil War:—

“Σϵληναρχία. A discourse proving the World in the Moon is

not governed by States because her Monthly Contributions do still

decrease as much as increase, but Ours increase and never decrease.”

“Ecclesiasticus. A plain demonstration that Col. Pride (alias

Bride) was Founder of St. Bride’s Church, and not found in the

Porch, because the Porch was built before the Church, that is, not

behind it.”

“Severall Readings on the Statute of Magna Charta by John Lylburn;

with a Treatise of the best way of boiling Soap.”

“Domesday Book. A clear manifesto that more Roundheads go to heaven

than Cavaliers, because Roundheads on their death-beds do repent of

their former cause and opinions, but not Cavaliers.”

“An Act for expunging the word King, and inserting the word ——

in all text of Scripture, beginning at Isa. xxx. 33. ‘Tophet is

prepared for the ——’”

“An Act concerning the Thames, that whereas at Westminster it ebbs

six hours and flows but four, it shall henceforth ebb four hours

and flow six.”

“An Act for Canonizing those for Saints that die in the State’s

service; who, since there are but two Worlds, ought at least to be

honoured in one.”

“An Act commanding all malignants to use onely their surnames,

their proper Names (with all other properties) being forfeit to the

State.”

“That the Army ought to march but two abreast, since all creatures

at Noah’s Ark went by Couples.”

“A Vindication of the Citizens of London, that as yet they want

nothing but wit and honesty.”

“Whether that Text (they are all become abominable; there is none

that doeth good, no not one) doth concern Committee men?”

“Whether we (as well as Seneca) may call a common woman Respublica?”

“Whether now more bodies and souls are saved when every man doth

either practise Physick or preach.”

“Whether the Parliament had not cause to forbid Christmas when they

found their printed Acts under so many Christmas Pies?”

“An Act for admitting Jews into England, with a short proviso for

banishing the Cavaliers.”

“An Act of oblivion for malignants to forget that ever they had

estates.”

“The humble petition of the City of London that those Citizens who

can raise no Horse may raise a troop of Oxen.”

“Sepelire Mortuos. A List of those Scots who, dying in prison, were

denied Christian Burial and (left in the Fields) were eaten by

Hogs, which now makes Pork so cheap in London.”

“Whether it is not a horrible imprecation against the state to wish

that every man might have his due.”

“Whether there now live more men or women in the Inns of Court?”

“Whether it is not clearly proved that there are Witches, since

England hath been bewitched eleven years together?”

“Why Lucian makes Hell governed by a Committee?”

“Whether Major-General Harrison be bound to give no quarter because

his Father is a Butcher?”

“_Vox Populi_, or the joynt opinion of the whole kingdom of

England, That the Parliament is hell, because the torments of it

are like to everlasting.”

“An Act for reforming divers texts of Scripture, as being of

dangerous consequence and contrary to the very being of this

present State, beginning at Rom. xiii., where it is said, ‘Let

every soul be subject to the higher Power,’ which words are thus to

be reformed, ‘Let every soul be subject to the Lower House.’”

“Whether when Colonel Pride goes to quarter with old Nick, the

Proverb will not be verified, ‘Pride feels no cold’?”

Although the Royalists ventured to proclaim their opinions, though

they openly wore ribbons or badges in their hats, they were not so

strong as the Parliamentary party; they had to take their part in the

fortification of the avenues and approaches to London, and they had to

pay their share in the weekly tax of £10,000 imposed upon the City.

In “A True Relation of two Merchants of London who were taken prisoners

by the Cavaliers and of the Misery they and the other Puritans

endured”—a pamphlet of 1642—I think we have one of those documents,

of which Napoleon so well understood the use, which were meant to

stimulate enmity and provoke wrath. It is an interesting paper, but

one remarks that the only cruelty endured by the two merchants was due

to a smoky chimney; that they report various hangings, but they were

not themselves hanged; and various slashings of ears, but they brought

their own away with them; and, as is common in such documents, they

report the evil case of the enemy and their resolution to destroy the

City of London when they get in.

I take an extract from it as follows:—

“Warre hath seemed alwayes sweet to those who have been unexperienced

with it, who, blinded with its flourish and its glory, observe not

the tragicall events that doe attend it. Of all war the civill is

most grievous, where all the obligations of friendship and nature lye

cancelled in one another’s blood, and violated by their hands who

should bee most carefull to preserve them. In civill warres there hath

been no greater stickler than religion, whose innocent and sacred

garment hath been too often traduced to palliate all dissolute and

bloody acts, and (as if heaven suffered flatterers as well as Princes)

religion and loyalty have been induced to beleeve they are protected

most by those men who most dangerously and most closely doe oppose

them, and who, while both are trampled on them by them, doe still cry

out, For God and the King.

Every day brings in many sad demonstrations concerning this subject;

the burning of houses, the pillaging of goods, the violating of all

lawes, both divine and humane, have been arguments written in blood

by too many swords. What I shall now relate concerning the sufferings

of these two Gentlemen, who were taken by the Cavaliers, and what

outrages they have performed in the time of their durance, will bee a

compendious mixture of all distresses in one story, wherein I shall

bee carefull to satisfie the reader with the manner of it, as myselfe

with the truth, not doubting but it will find as much beliefe in the

reader as it hath done compassion in the writer.

Two Citizens of London, Gentlemen of good repute and quality (who

will be ready upon their oaths to give an attestation of what is here

reported), travelling not many days towards Hartly Row, concerning

some private occasions of their owne, were taken in their way at

Hounsloe, at the sign of the Katharine Wheele, by a party of some fifty

Cavaliers, who had then been forraging up and downe the County of

Middlesex, to see what good booty and pillage they could bring.

[Illustration: PRINCE RUPERT (1619–1682)]

These Gentlemen no sooner alighted, with an intent for an houre or two

to refresh themselves, and bait their horses, but the Cavaliers had

notice of it, who rudely and violently did breake into the Chamber

wherein they were, and tooke them prisoners. From their Chambers

they made haste downe into the Stable, and seized upon their horses,

and inforced these captive Gentlemen to ride behinde two of them

unto Eggham, to be examined there by Prince Robert. They found their

journey, though short, extreamly troublesome, beeing never used to

ride before without a saddle; and having such desperate companions on

either Saddle before them to conduct them. Comming to Eggham they found

Prince Robert in bed, his clothes being on; for he had made a vow that

he would never undresse nor shifte himselfe till he had resetted King

Charles in White Hall. In the examination it was laid to the charrge

of one of these Gentlemen, that his wife was a Roundhead, and if they

had her there present, they did sweare they would hang her. It was

alledged against the other Gentleman, that hee was a Preacher in a Tub,

which, being with much scornfull sport and vehemency prosecuted, at

length they espied (having seldome seen in a preacher) a great branch

of Ribbands in his hat; the Prince took the paines to look them over

himselfe, and turned and tossed them up and downe, and not finding what

he searched for, he swore there was none of the King’s favours there.

The Gentleman replying that they were his Mistress’s, Prince Robert

smiling, without giving any word at all, returned him his favours and

his hat againe.

From thence they were committed to the Court of guard, and a Captain

had a charge over them, who was a Frenchman; he placed them both

together by the fireside, where the winde did drive all the smoke

into their eyes. Though they were almost blinded and choaked with the

smoake, which still in waving tumults did issue from the Chimney upon

them, they durst not stirre, though to discharge the most earnest

Offices of Nature, but had a guard set over them, who threatened and

swore, God darne them, they would pistoll them.

That night Prince Robert was to march from Hounsloe, and either wanting

guides in earnest, or their cruelty making mirth with these honest

Gentlemen, they made their conducts, and following them with their

pistols, they did sweare, that if they led them but a yard out of the

way they immediately would shoot them.

It was a lamentable condition that these two Gentlemen were in; they

were not well acquainted with the way, the smoke had almost blinded

their eyes, the night was as darke as cold, which were both then in

extreames, they saw their lives at the mercy of these mercilesse men;

and to make their condition yet worse, there did arise a thick and

sudden mist, which tooke from them the little knowledge of the way they

had before; they were not suffered to eate or drinke one drop, though

they offered to pay freely for it, and were ready to starve for cold

and hunger, but were still pursued with reproachfull and contumelious

words, as, Lead on, lead on, you Parliament dogges; if you lead us but

one yard out of the way, we will hang you, wee will pistoll you both.

The Army being come to the Rendezvous, they were driven before it with

many other prisoners, being coupled in cords two by two.

That day the Army being to march towards London, with a resolution to

take the Citie, they were left in bonds at the Rendezvous.

The King and Prince were then on Hounsloe Heath, and were marching

towards Brainford;[2] they made full account (whatsoever is suggested

to the contrary) to have surprized the Citie of London. Prince Robert

put off his scarlet coat, which was very riche, and gave it to his

man, and buckled on his armour, and put a gray coat over it, that he

might not bee discovered; he talked long with the King, and often in

his communication with his Majesty he scratched his head, and tore his

haire, as if hee had been in some great discontent.

There was that day apprehended a Gentleman cloathed in Scarlet, and

hanged in a with upon a tree, as it is conceived for speaking in honour

of the Parliament, and no man suffered to cut him downe or cover his

face, untill he had been made a publicke spectacle to the whole Army

which was then marching by. This was done in the way betwixt Eggham and

Staines.

Dr. Soame, vicar of Staines, having four or five daughters, in great

jollity did ride up and downe the Army, and was very familiar with

the Commanders, and it was thought some of those Commanders were as

familiar with his daughters; for they did ride behinde some Captaines,

who took them up on horsebacke, and being more mindfull of them than of

their souldiers, shewed them the whole Army, as they marched by.

The Army being prevented, and their hopes frustrated for the surprizing

of the Citie of London, they were driven back to their Rendezvous,

where these two honest Gentlemen, after many solicitations for their

release, procured at length some men to passe their words for their

ransome; and after eight dayes imprisonment, finding a convenient

opportunity for their escape, they stole away to Brainford, making so

much haste, that when they came thither they had not one dry threed

about them. The misery these two Gentlemen indured hath beene almost

inexpressible; they were cudgelled by the Cavaliers, and drove with the

other prisoners, like beasts before the Army; their eyes were tormented

to see the slaughter and execution of their friends, their eares furred

to heare the blasphemies of their enemies, their bellies were pinched

with hunger, their whole bodies with cold, their understandings with

the apprehension of some infamous death; for not an houre hardly

passed away, wherein they were not threatened to be hanged. Whatsoever

calamity the insolency of men could inflict, they indured, and doe

believe the bondage under the Turk to be humanity and mercy compared

to their slavery, who being now in the armes of safety, have drawne my

sad pen from the relation of their sorrowes to touch a little on the

tyranny of the Cavaliers, and on the extremities of those men who were

fellow captives with them.

The poore people that were not able to pay ransomes, they did put into

a pond stark naked, up to the knees in durt, in a cold night, and

drove them the next morning before the Camp, the basest of the Army

inveighing against them with most opprobrious language, calling them

Round-headed Citizens, Parliament Rogues, and Parliament Dogges.

They took one in Thistleworth, an honest and religious man, who,

because he said he was for the King and Parliament, they most

inhumanely did cut off his eares and gave him besides 30 wounds in his

body, and not content with this butchery, they threw him afterwards on

the Dunghill with this most unchristian scoffe, ‘Let the dogs lick him.’

They took another in the same towne, who, flying from their fury, got

into a house, and, having barred fast the gate, not long after he

was inforced to open it to let in his wife, when the Cavaliers came

violently rushing in after her, and, fastning a cord unto his feet,

they dragged him about the streets; and weary of their cruelty, they

said, ‘Why do we trouble ourselves any longer with this Dogge,’ and so

discharging their pistols on him, they discharged him of his torments,

and his life together.

They are very poore in cloathes, especially the foot, but are very full

of money; wheresoever they come, they pay for nothing, yet make pillage

of whatsoever they come at; and what they get in one towne at very

easie rates, they doe sell in another, and doe inforce the inhabitants

to buy their commodities and stolne goods of them, whether they will

or no. There was a Captaine who offered to lend three hundred pound

to any man upon good security, and that being lent forth, hee made no

question, he said, but in a few days to be able to lend as much more.

The Cavaliers and all are driven unto such necessity, as they are

constrained sometimes either to fast or to feed on carrion; they have

killed Ewes great with lambe, and one Ewe that was great with two

lambes. Whatsoever they cannot eat at any time, bee their diet never

so good, they throw away; and whatsoever is left of their hay and

provender (their horses many times feeding on good wheat, which they

take from the owner), they fling away at their departure, alledging

they will leave nothing behind them for the Parliament Roundheads.

They drinke and sweare extreamly, and although they lately were

prevented in their designe upon the Citie of London, wherein they

verily expected a great and strong party to assist them, they say, that

ere it be long, they will returne to it againe, and are so confident

either by stratagem or by strength to win it, that when anything comes

crosse them, they will say, ‘No matter, ere it be long, London shall

make amends for all.’”

CHAPTER IV

THE COMMONWEALTH

After the execution of the King, the Commons, by an Act, abolished

Monarchy and erected a Commonwealth in its place. Orders were sent to

the Mayor and Sheriffs requiring them to make proclamation accordingly.

The Mayor, however, Reynardson, who had always shown Royalist leanings,

refused to obey on the ground that he had already, in entering upon

the various offices which he had held, taken so many oaths of loyalty

that he could not, in conscience, obey. He was therefore committed to

the Tower for two months, deprived of his Mayoralty, and fined £2000

for contempt. And the City was ordered to elect a new Mayor with all

convenient speed.

The City obeyed; Alderman Atkins was chosen Mayor, and on the 30th

of May the proclamation was duly made, but not without hooting and

groaning from the crowd. Two Aldermen, Soames and Chambers, were not

present. On being questioned at the Bar of the House, Soames said

boldly that the proclamation was against his judgment and conscience;

Chambers that his heart was not in the business. They were therefore

degraded from their position and declared incapable of filling any City

office for the future.

A day of public thanksgiving was then appointed, when the City invited

the House of Commons to hear a sermon at Christ Church, Newgate, and

afterwards to a noble entertainment at the Grocers’ Hall. The day

after, the City presented Fairfax with a basin and ewer of gold, and

Cromwell with a hundred pounds’ worth of plate and a purse of £200 in

gold.

The exchange of presents and courtesies ended, for the time, with the

presentation to the City, by the House of Commons, of Richmond Park.

On the 19th of September 1650 another day of thanksgiving was held for

the victory of Dunbar, and another after the victory of Worcester.

Cromwell was received on his return to London by the Mayor, Aldermen,

and Sheriffs, who invited him to a Banquet.

[Illustration: CROMWELL DISSOLVING PARLIAMENT

From a Dutch satirical print in the British Museum.]

On the forcible dissolution of the old Parliament, petitions were

presented to Cromwell by the City for and against the reinstatement of

the Parliament. Cromwell met them both by constituting a certain number

of persons the “Supreme Authority.” The City, recognising this body,

presented a petition in which they prayed:—

“1. That the precious Truths of the Gospel may be preserved in Purity;

and the Dispensers thereof, being approved to be learned, godly, and

void of Offence, may be sent forth to preach the Gospel. 2. That

their settled Maintenance by Law might be confirmed, and their just

Properties preserved. 3. That the Universities may be zealously

countenanced and encouraged.” (_Maitland_, vol. i. p. 421.)

[Illustration: HACKNEY COACHMAN

From a contemporary print published by John Overton.]

The “Supreme Authority” surrendering its power, Cromwell was made

Protector, a step which the City hastened to recognise by inviting him

to dine at the Guildhall, and receiving him with all the honours of a

sovereign.

On the discovery of a conspiracy against his person, Cromwell sent for

the Mayor and Aldermen, and, after acquainting them with the nature of

the plot, recommended to them the safety and peace of the City, giving

them at the same time, in order to strengthen their hands, the entire

control of the City Militia. He also sanctioned the revival of the

Honourable Artillery Company.

As regards affairs municipal, Cromwell limited the number of

hackney coachmen to two hundred, under the license of the Mayor and

Corporation; and for the sake of the poor he allowed the entrance into

the port, free of duty, of 4000 chaldrons of coals every year.

Cromwell also renewed the attempts of Elizabeth, James, and Charles to

stop the erection of new buildings; all those persons who had built

houses—except on four acres of ground—since 1620 were fined one year’s

rent, and all those who should build after 1656 were to be fined £100.

These successive Acts caused great vexation at the time, but as they

were never enforced save at irregular intervals, the chief effect was

to drive across the river into the Borough those of the craftsmen for

whom there was no room in the City.

The Common Council proceeded to consider the allowances for the

expenses of the Mayor and the Sheriffs; these were now fixed at

£208:6s. a month for the former, and £150 a month for each of the

latter.

A Committee was appointed “to manage and to let to farm a number of

offices, including those of garbling, package, and scavage, metage of

grain, coal, salt and fruit, as well as all fines, issues, amerciaments

and estreated recognizances under the greenwax.”

The condition of the poor was taken in hand at this time very

seriously. A project was started to raise money by establishing a post

in Scotland and other parts of the country; but the House of Commons

resolved that the office of postmaster in every part of the country

is in the power and the disposal of the Parliament; the project,

therefore, fell through; meantime the poor remained. It was decided to

raise £4600 in order to find work for them; a storehouse was set apart

for them in the Minories and the King’s Wardrobe, part of the Palace

so-called, one court of which remained until recently—to be used as a

workroom.

[Illustration: OLIVER CROMWELL (1599–1658)

From a painting in the National Portrait Gallery, London.]

The weariness of civil war felt by the Londoners was further displayed

in the autumn of 1650 when a contingent of recruits was marched from

London to the North to join the army in Scotland. Half of them deserted

by the way. In the following year the City remonstrated on the heavy

taxation from which they suffered, stating that the City was assessed

at a fifteenth part of the whole kingdom; that the foreign trade had

suffered grievously from Prince Rupert’s piracies; that the wealthier

citizens were withdrawing from London to the suburbs, and so evading

taxation. The last clause is remarkable. The time had not yet come when

the wealthier merchants desired to leave the City and to live outside;

the practice shows simply that in this way they avoided taxation.

The battle of Worcester, September 3, 1651, put an end to the Civil

War. A few days later the unhappy Scottish prisoners were marched

through the City, ragged, barefoot, bareheaded, starving—a terrible

spectacle. Meal was collected for them from house to house; they were

taken to Tothill Fields in Westminster, where they lay in the open

under rain and suffering from the cold winds of autumn. Twelve hundred

of them died. The rest were sent away to the Gold Coast, whence none

ever came back.

War with Holland broke out in 1652 and a subscription of £1071:9:5

for the wounded sailors and soldiers was raised in the City.

On December 16, 1653, the Lord Mayor carried the City Sword at the

installation of Cromwell as Lord Protector. Two months later he dined

with the Mayor and Corporation at Grocers’ Hall. This interchange of

courtesies continued during the rest of Cromwell’s rule.

The connection of the City with the Protector offers very little

of importance. When the proclamation was made, six weeks after the

execution of the King, abolishing monarchy, the City made no protest

either by its Common Council or by any popular movement. When a

Commonwealth was proclaimed in May there were many refusals among

the clergy and others to promise fidelity to the new order, but no

remonstrance came from the City. When Cromwell dissolved the Rump “not

a dog barked” either in the City or outside.

The Fifth Monarchy men, a small minority, gave some trouble in the

City. They were fanatics of the deepest dye. They would have no King

but Jesus Christ, and no Parliament but a Sanhedrin of Saints—meaning

themselves.

Among all the sects which drove men mad perhaps the most mischievous

was that of the “Fifth Monarchy” men. It was a sect whose adherents

were principally found in London. At one time they were numerous enough

to be important. They supported Cromwell’s Government at first in the

faith that it would become the “Fifth Monarchy,” in succession, that

is, to the Assyrian, the Persian, the Grecian, and the Roman. During

the Fifth Monarchy, they thought, Christ would reign, with the saints,

for a thousand years. Their leader was one Venner, a wine cooper, but

among them were certain officers, as Major-General Harrison, Colonel

Rich, and others. When the proposal that Cromwell should assume the

title of King was first brought forward, the Fifth Monarchy men, being

disappointed in their hopes and acknowledging no King but Christ,

prepared for a rising; they were to meet at Mile End Green, where they

expected to be joined by thousands from the country as well as from

the City. They were arrested with arms in their hands and sent to

the Tower, but none were executed. The man Venner gave more trouble

afterwards. There were, however, signs of Royalist disaffection,

rumours of proposed risings and the suppression of actual risings, both

before and after Cromwell’s death, in which the apprentices of London

were more or less implicated.

What followed Cromwell’s death belongs to the general history of the

country. Lambert treated the Parliament with the greatest insolence

and arrogance. Monk marched south, pretending to vindicate the rights

of Parliament; the apprentices rose and rushed about the streets

clamouring for a free Parliament; Colonel Heron with a company of

soldiers fired upon them. The Aldermen exchanged explanations on the

subject with the Committee of Safety. The Common Council petitioned

Fleetwood for a Parliament as in 1642; the petition was returned. The

City Remembrancer was sent to expostulate with Fleetwood, who finally

promised a free Parliament. It is difficult to understand what else

he could do; there was no second Cromwell; the City called out six

regiments of its own militia, commanded by its officers nominated by

the Common Council.

[Illustration: GENERAL MONK, FIRST DUKE OF ALBEMARLE (1608–1670)

After an engraving by David Loggan, 1661]

If we inquire why a city which before the death of the King seemed

Republican and Presbyterian through and through, should in ten years

become in the same thorough manner Royalist and Episcopal; or, to put

it more exactly, why the Republican majority became so unmistakably a

Royalist majority, we shall find that many forces were at work in this

direction.

First of all, though the governing body was both Republican and

Presbyterian, there were numbers of citizens who had preserved their

loyalty to the Crown, and many more who, for divers reasons, hated the

Puritan rule. We have seen the petition of the women and that of the

apprentices; we have seen the rioting and discontent at the prohibition

of the old sports and the closing of the play-houses. There were also

other causes; the Londoners were ready to go forth and fight a battle,

but not to carry on a long war; further, they distrusted the standing

army which had taken the place of the trained bands. Again, trade was

depressed; many ships were taken by Prince Rupert off the Nore and in

the narrow seas, and the whole City was kept in perpetual controversies

and quarrels over points of doctrine. With a decaying trade, a city

divided against itself, religious quarrels without religious peace, the

young folk longing for the restoration of the old sports, every tavern

full of discontented men, every church a brawling place, what wonder

if, after ten years and more, the City suddenly turned round and cried

for the King and the Church to come back again.

[Illustration: _View of Gen^l Monks House in Grub Street._]

Yet the events which followed Cromwell’s death and preceded the

Restoration were very closely connected with the City of London. The

domination of the City by the army deeply moved the people. The

clamour for a Parliament prevailed; on the 29th of December 1659 the

old Rump was recalled. It was not a full and a free Parliament. But

such as it was, the House viewed with jealousy the repair of the City

gates and the restoration of the chains, with the calling out of the

City militia. The City, however, which had but one representative in

the House, refused absolutely to pay or to levy any tax until there

was full representation. Meantime Monk was advancing from the north.

He entered London on the 3rd of February 1660, and was quartered at

Whitehall. For the moment he either dissembled his real intentions or

he was simply waiting.

[Illustration: A REDUCED FACSIMILE OF THE ORIGINAL BROADSIDE]

{Transcription:

A LETTER

Of His Excellencie

The Lord General Monck,

To the Speaker of the Parl. From _Guild-Hall_, _London_.

_Right Honourable_,

In obedience to the Commands received from the Council last night,

I marched with your Forces into the City this morning, and have

secured all the persons except two, ordered to be secured, which

two were not to be found: The Posts and Chaines I have given order

to be taken away, but have hitherto forborn the taking down of

the Gates and Portcullises, because it will in all likelihood

exasperate the City; and I have good ground of hopes from them,

that they will Levy the Assess; They desiring onely first to meet

in Common-Council, which they intend to do to morrow morning.

It seems probable to me, that they will yeild obedience to your

Commands, and be brought to a friendly Complyance with you; for

which reason I have suspended the execution of your Commands

touching the Gates and Portcullises, till I know your further

pleasure therein, which I desire I may by this Bearer; I shall

onely desire, that (so your Commands may be answered with due

obedience) such tenderness may be used towards them, as may gain

their affections; They desired the Restauration of those Members

of their Common-Council that are secured, which desires of theirs

I shall onely commend to your grave Consideration, to do therein

as you shall think most expedient, and, in attendance upon your

further Commands, Remain

_Guildhall_ Feb 9, 1659. _Your most Humble and Obedient

Servant_

George Monck.

_To the Right Honourable_ William Lenthal, _Speaker

to the Parliament of the Common-Wealth of_ England

_at_ Westminster.

_POSTSCRIPT_

I shall become an humble suiter to you, That You will be pleased

to hasten your Qualifications, that the Writs may be sent out; I

can assure you it will tend much to the Peace of the Country, and

satisfie many honest Men.

* * * * *

_Thursday Afternoon_, January 9, 1659.

This Letter from General _George Monck_ from _Guild-Hall_,

_London_, of the 9th of _February_, 1659, was read.

_Resolved_, Upon the Question by the Parliament, That the Answer

to this Letter be, to send General _Monck_ the Resolve of the

Parliament, That the Gates of the City of _London_, and the

Portcullises thereof be forthwith destroyed, And that he be ordered

to put the said Vote in Execution accordingly, and that M. _Scot_

and M. _Pury_ do go to General _Monck_ and acquaint him with these

Votes.

Tho. St. Nicholas, _Clerk to the Parliament_.

* * * * *

_Thursday_, February 9, 1659.

Resolved upon the Question by the Parliament, That the Gates of

the City of _London_, and the Portcullises thereof be forthwith

destroyed, and that the Commissioners for the Army do take Order

that the same be done accordingly

Tho. St. Nicholas, _Clerk to the Parliament_.

* * * * *

LONDON, Printed by _John Macock_ in the Year 1659.}

The Rump hastened its own fall. In consequence of the attitude of the

Common Council it declared that body dissolved; it also ordered the

gates and chains of the City to be removed, and troops to be quartered

there in order to reduce the City to obedience.

Monk, in order to carry out these instructions, removed into the City,

where he conferred with the Aldermen. They would do nothing; the Common

Council being dissolved, there was no body which had the power of

speaking for the City.

Monk met them again on the following day. He read them a letter which

he had sent to the House. He demanded that writs for every seat should

be ready for issue within a week.

Great was the joy of the City; bonfires were lighted; bells were set

ringing, and the soldiers were feasted by the people.

The next day, being Sunday, Monk attended service at St. Paul’s.

On the 13th, Monday, he conferred with the Mayor and Aldermen in

Drapers’ Hall.

On the 15th he informed the Mayor that he was about to return to

Whitehall, but that he should take care of the safety of the City.

However, he did not go back; he remained in the City.

Meantime his order about the writs had been obeyed; many of the old

members were taking their places, including those ejected for various

reasons. The order dissolving the Common Council was rescinded and

the gates were allowed to be repaired. It does not appear that much

damage had been done to them. The House also allowed the City to place

its militia in the hands of Commissioners of its own choice. On March

16 the Parliament—the old Long Parliament which had done so much,

suffered so much, and gone through so many vicissitudes—dissolved.

Writs were issued for a new Parliament to meet on April 25. Meantime

the Government was in the hands of the Council of State.

And now people began to talk openly and freely of the Restoration. One

man boldly set a ladder against the wall of the Royal Exchange and

brushed out the inscription, “Exit Tyrannus Regum Ultimus,” which had

been set up in August 1650. The Skinners’ Company set up the Royal

Arms once more in their Hall. The Common Council issued a Declaration

in which they set forth their disavowal of many acts committed by

themselves during the last twenty years on the ground that they were

the work of “men of loose and dangerous” principles who had got into

the Council “in the general deluge of disorder introduced into these

kingdoms.” They also expressed satisfaction at the thought of an end

having been put to the destructions of the country and of a return to

the old order of King, Lords, and Commons.

This Declaration was scarcely issued before a letter came from Charles

II. conveying his assurance that he had no thoughts of revenge, and

promising the City the confirmation of its Charters. He also pledged

himself to grant liberty of conscience in religion, to leave questions

of title to land to Parliament, and he promised the soldiers their

arrears of pay.

The new Parliament met on the 25th of April. Charles’s Declaration

reached the House on the 1st of May. Parliament instantly sent to the

City to borrow £100,000, which was cheerfully advanced, and half of it

was at once sent over to the King. On the same day the City companies

raised the sum of £10,000 for Charles, and £2000 to be divided between

the Dukes of York and Gloucester. Sixteen commissioners were appointed

to wait on Charles at the Hague in order to take over this Royal gift.

Charles was proclaimed on May the 18th.

CHAPTER V

THE RESTORATION

The welcome with which Charles was received amounted to frenzy.

Bonfires were made all over the City; up went the maypoles again; the

church bells rang; the mob paraded rumps of beef, which they afterwards

roasted and devoured; they made everybody drink the health of the King

upon their knees; they broke the windows of leading Puritans; they made

Monk’s soldiers drunk. It was not only the King who had come to his

own again; it was the return of merriment, feasting, dancing, singing,

mumming, sports, music, laughing, the pride of the eye, the delight

of the ear, the joy of the world, the careless, reckless, headlong

happiness of youth in the things that belong to youth. The kingdom of

God upon the earth had been attempted. Perhaps the Puritans mistook the

nature of that kingdom; perhaps they were only wrong in believing that

the time was ripe for the advent of that kingdom.

[Illustration: MOB AT TEMPLE BAR

From the Crace Collection in British Museum]

But let us begin this reign with the words of those who looked on at

the Restoration:—

“Mem. that Threadneedle Street was all day long and late at night

crammed with multitudes crying out, ‘A free Parliament!—A free

Parliament!’ that the air rang again with their noise. One day, he,

coming out on horseback, they were so violent that he was almost afraid

of himself, and so, to satisfy them (as they used to do to importunate

children), said, ‘Pray be quiet, ye shall have a Free Parliament!’ This

was about seven, or rather eight, as I remember, at night; immediately

a loud halloa and shout was given, all the bells in the city ringing;

and the whole city looked as if it had been in a flame by the bonfires,

which were prodigiously great and frequent, and ran like a train over

the city; and I saw some balconies that began to be kindled. They made

little gibbets, and roasted rumps of mutton; nay, I saw some very good

rumps of beef. Health to K. Charles II. was drunk in the streets, by

the bonfires, even on their knees.”

And Pepys writes:—

“In Cheapside there were a great many bonfires, and Bow bells

and all the bells in all the churches as we went home, were

ringing.” [Hence he went homeward, it being about ten at night.]

“But the common joy that was everywhere to be seen; the number of

bonfires!—there being fourteen between St. Dunstan’s and Temple

Bar; and at Strand Bridge I could at one time tell thirty-one

fires; in King Street seven or eight; and all along burning, and

roasting, and drinking for rumps; there being rumps tied upon

sticks, and carried up and down. The butchers at the May-Pole in

the Strand rang a peal with their knives, when they were going

to sacrifice their rump. On Ludgate Hill there was one turning

the spit that had a rump tied upon it, and another basting of

it. Indeed, it was past imagination both the greatness and the

suddenness of it. At one end of the street you would think there

was a whole lane of fire and smoke, so hot that we were fain to

keep on the other side.... Everybody now drinks the King’s health

without any fear, whereas before it was very private that a man

dare do it. Monk this day is feasted at Mercers’ Hall, and is

invited, one after another, to all the twelve Halls in London. Many

think that he is honest yet, and some or more think him to be a

fool that would raise himself by endeavouring it.... This morning

comes Mr. Edward Pickering; he tells me that the King will come in,

but that Monk did resolve to have the doing of it himself or else

to hinder it.”

When Parliament met all the members must have understood what was

going to happen. On the 3rd of May, Sir John Greville presented to

the House a letter from Charles. It was resolved that his promises

were satisfactory and that the Government should be once more by King,

Lords, and Commons. Six Commissioners representing the House of Lords,

twelve for the House of Commons, and twenty for the City of London,

were appointed; they were instructed to take over £50,000 for the King,

£10,000 for the Duke of York, and £5000 for the Duke of Gloucester; the

City Commissioners added a gift of £10,000 for the King.

“There was great joy in London,” Pepys states, “and at night more

bonfires than ever, and ringing of bells, and drinking of the King’s

health upon their knees in the streets, which methinks is a little too

much.”

On the 26th of May 1660 the King landed at Dover; on the 29th he

entered London. The cavalcade which did honour to the occasion was

worthy of a mediæval riding.

“First marched a gallant troop of gentlemen in Cloth of Silver,

brandishing their Swords, and led by Major-General Brown; then

followed another troop of two hundred in velvet coats with footmen

and liveries attending them in purple; then another troop, led by

Alderman Robinson, in buff coats, with cloth of silver sleeves,

and very rich green scarves; and after these a troop of about two

hundred, with blue liveries laid with silver, with six trumpeters,

and several footmen, in sea-green and silver; then a troop of

two hundred and twenty, with thirty footmen in grey and silver

liveries and four trumpeters richly habited. Then another troop

of an hundred and five, with grey liveries and six trumpets; and

another of seventy, with five trumpets. And then three troops

more, two of three hundred, and one of one hundred, all gloriously

habited and gallantly mounted. After these came two trumpets with

his Majesty’s arms; the Sheriffs’ men in red cloaks, richly laced

with silver to the number of fourscore, with half-pikes in their

hands; then followed six hundred of the several companies of London

on horseback, in black velvet coats with gold chains, each company

having footmen in different liveries, with streamers, etc. After

these came kettle-drums, and trumpets, with streamers, and after

them twelve Ministers at the head of His Majesty’s Life Guards of

Horse, commanded by the Lord Gerrard; next the City Marshall, with

eight footmen in divers colours; with the City Waits and Officers

in order; then the two Sheriffs, and all the Aldermen of London in

their scarlet coats and rich trappings, with footmen in liveries,

red coats laid with silver and cloth of gold; the Heralds and

Maces in rich coats; then the Lord Mayor carrying the Sword, bare,

with his Excellency (the General) and the Duke of Buckingham, bare

also; and then, as the last to all this splendid triumph, rode the

King himself between his royal brothers, the Dukes of York and

Gloucester; then followed a troop of Horse with white colours; and

after them the General’s Life-Guard led by Sir Philip Howard, and

another Troop of Gentry; and last of all five regiments of the Army

Horse, with Back, Breast, and Head-Pieces, which diversified the

Shew with delight and terror.”

At the Coronation in April of the following year, the City, still in

a fever of loyalty, raised four triumphal arches, and organised a

procession as magnificent as that of the entry. After the Coronation

was the Banquet, at which Pepys was so fortunate as to be a spectator:—

“A little while before the King had done all his ceremonies (in

the Abbey) I went round to Westminster Hall all the way within

rayles, with the ground covered with blue cloth, and scaffolds all

the way. Into the Hall I got, where it was very fine with hangings

and scaffolds one upon another, full of brave ladies. The King

came in with his crowne on and his sceptre in his hand, under a

canopy borne up by six silver staves carried by barons of the

Cinque Ports, and little bells at every end. And after a long time

he got to the farther end, and all set themselves down at their

several tables.... I went from table to table to see the bishops

and all others at their dinner. And at the lords’ table I met with

William Howe, and he spoke to my lord for me, and he did give him

four rabbits and a pullet, and so Mr. Creed and I got Mr. Minshell

to give us some bread, and so we at a stall eat it as every one

else did what they could get. I took a great deal of pleasure to

go up and down and look upon the ladies, and to hear the musique

of all sorts; but, above all, the twenty-four violins. About six

at night they had dined. And strange it is to think that these two

days have held up fair till now, that all is done, and the King

gone out of the Hall, and then it fell a-raining and thundering and

lightning as I have not seen it do for some years, which people

did take great notice of. I observed little disorder, only the

King’s footmen had got hold of the canopy and would keep it from

the barons of the Cinque Ports, which they endeavoured to force

from them again, but could not do it till my lord Duke of Albemarle

caused it to be put into Sir R. Pye’s hand, till to-morrow, to be

decided.”

The Fifth Monarchy men who have already been mentioned as rising

against Cromwell were, on the reappearance of Charles, mad enough,

or fanatical enough, to attempt a second rising, the history of

which is curiously picturesque, and shows also the strange religious

distractions of the time.

[Illustration: THE CORONATION OF CHARLES II. IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY,

APRIL 23, 1661

From a contemporary print.]

Between the King’s accession in May and the end of the year these

fanatics seem to have done nothing. Many of their leaders, including

Colonel Overton, Major Wild, Cornet Day, and others, were arrested

on suspicion of dangerous symptoms. The Fifth Monarchy people had

a meeting-house in Swan Alley, Coleman Street. Here on the sixth

day of January 1661, the Sunday after the arrest of their leaders,

they assembled in a state of mind approaching frenzy. What followed

was madness pure and simple. Their preacher, Thomas Venner, the

wine cooper, had acquired a competent fortune by his trade. He was

believed to be a man of sense until his understanding was confused

with enthusiasm. He, in common with his sect, looked on Charles as a

usurper upon Christ’s dominion. On this particular Sunday his madness

and the madness of his followers broke out. He assured them that the

time of the Fifth Monarchy had arrived; that those who believed in it

and expected it should be protected by Divine interference so that no

weapon should hurt them, and not a hair should be touched among them

all; but one should chase a thousand and that two should put ten

thousand to flight; that the Reign of Jesus was beginning that day upon

the earth. Filled with enthusiasm the people drew up a declaration

called “A door of Hope opened,” in which they affirmed they would

never sheath the sword till Babylon (meaning the Monarchy) became a

hissing and a curse; till there would be left neither remnant, son, nor

nephew; that when they had led captivity captive in England, they would

go forth into France, Spain, and Germany; that they would rather die

than take the oaths of supremacy and allegiance; that they would make

no league with monarchists, but would rise up against the carnal, to

possess the gate of the world; to bind their kings in chains and their

nobles in fetters of iron.

[Illustration: CHARLES II. (1630–1685)

From an engraving by P. Vanderbanc.]

When they had adopted this promising declaration they marched out in

a body of sixty only, but well armed, down Cheapside to St. Paul’s

Churchyard, shouting as they went for “King Jesus.” In St. Paul’s

Churchyard they were accosted by a man who cried out for King Charles.

Him they slew immediately. By this time the Mayor, Sir Richard Brown,

heard of the tumult, and sent a company of the trained bands to

suppress it. The number of the company thus sent out is not known, but

they were not strong enough. Instead of suppressing the fanatics they

were themselves totally routed and put to flight. The Fifth Monarchy

men then marched through the City without opposition; they passed out

at Bishopsgate; then, evidently not knowing what to do next, they

crossed Moorfields, marched along Chiswell Street, and, turning south

again, re-entered the City at Cripplegate. It would have been better

for them had they dispersed and gone home for the night, satisfied with

their triumph and now convinced of their invulnerability. Unfortunately

they heard of a troop of horse waiting for them somewhere, and so

retreated, killing a headborough on the way, to Beech Lane. Here they

encountered some opposition which caused them to march north as far as

the heights of Hampstead. They found shelter, such as it was, for the

night in Ken Woods, which are still left exactly as they were then. In

the morning—they must have been wretched after a winter night in the

open and with no food—they were attacked by more troops and dispersed,

some of them being taken prisoners and committed to the Gatehouse,

Westminster.

Next day they rallied again and returned to London. This was the last

day of the Rising. It was a day of sturdy and obstinate fighting. I

do not know any other example where such a handful of men held out so

long against such odds. Nor can one understand where the men got their

ammunition. They fought on Sunday evening, Monday and Tuesday; they are

described as firing in good order; where, then, did they procure their

ammunition?

When they arrived once more in London they divided into two small

parties; one of them marched towards Leadenhall, where they were

followed by the trained bands which dispersed them. The other party,

under Venner, marched on Haberdashers’ Hall in Maiden Lane, hoping to

catch the Mayor. But he evaded them. They then repaired to Wood Street,

presumably intending to go out again by Cripplegate; the Horse Guards

now came upon the scene, and a fierce fight ensued, in which Venner

was dangerously wounded and two of their preachers killed. They then

retreated in good order; outside the gate they stationed ten men in an

alehouse with instructions to hold it; seven of the ten were killed, a

large number of the trained bands, and twenty of the rebels. Fourteen

were taken; eleven were executed with the customary formalities; and

here they made an end; probably no further search was attempted after

the rest of the rioters. It was wiser not to ascertain how many of

these fanatics there were and who they were. We hear, however, very

little more of the Fifth Monarchy men. As for the poor fanatics, they

affirmed to the last that if they had been deceived, the Lord Himself

was their deceiver.

[Illustration: INCIDENTS IN THE REBELLION OF THE FIFTH MONARCHY MEN

UNDER THOMAS VENNER, AND THE EXECUTION OF THEIR LEADERS

E. Gardner’s Collection.]

On the 30th day of January 1661, the anniversary of King Charles’s

execution, in the year following the Restoration, a remarkable

procession took place through the streets of London to Tyburn. Horsemen

led the way and brought up the rear; there were trumpets and drums;

guards marched on either side; in the middle, one behind the other, on

their sledges, sat Lord Munson, Sir Henry Mildmay, and Robert Wallop

with ropes about their necks. The Act of Indemnity had spared their

lives, but it had not spared them other penalties, and they went

through the form of being drawn to execution. Arrived at Tyburn they

were taken off the sledges and carried back to the Tower, there to pass

the remainder of their days.

Three more of the regicides, Okey, Corbet, and Berkstead, who had

escaped to Hanau in Germany, were decoyed by Sir George Downey, the

King’s resident at the Hague. He treacherously assured Okey that he

had no directions to look for him; whereupon all three left Hanau and

repaired to Delft, where they were arrested and sent home for trial.

They were of course convicted and executed. No more honourable and

conscientious man than Corbet ever existed. The death of these three

was followed by that of Sir Harry Vane. Neither Vane nor Lambert was

among the judges of the King. The House of Lords wished, however, to

exclude both from the Act of Indemnity; the House of Commons desired to

include them. The Chancellor assuring them that their lives were safe,

both Houses agreed in a petition to the King:—

“Your Majesty having declared your gracious pleasure to proceed only

against the murderers of your royal Father, we, your Majesty’s most

humble subjects, the Lords and Commons assembled, not finding Sir Henry

Vane or Colonel Lambert to be of the number, are humble suitors to your

Majesty that, if they shall be attainted, execution of their lives may

be remitted.”

Charles broke his word and Vane was executed, showing to the last the

firmness and courage which only a good conscience could give, this

belongs to national history. He suffered on Tower Hill. His friends

urged him after his sentence to make submission to the King. He

replied:—

“If his Majesty does not think himself more concerned for his honour

and word than I am for my life, I am very willing he should take it;

and I declare that I value my life less in a good cause than the King

does his promise.” (_Clayton_, ii. p. 164.)

Sir Harry Vane was a scholar of Oxford; he had travelled in France and

stayed awhile in Geneva, where he had adopted the religious principles

which ruled him through life. So much was he considered when quite

young that the King entreated Laud to bring him to a more orthodox

way of thinking. To avoid Laud’s frequent reproofs Vane went to

America, where, at the age of four-and-twenty, he became Governor of

Massachusetts Bay.

The Act of Indemnity excluded the late King’s judges and certain

persons who had been active in procuring the King’s execution. The

trials of the State prisoners under the exceptions of this Act took

place at the Old Bailey. On October 11 they were all sentenced to death

as traitors, with the customary barbarities. Major-General Harrison,

the Rev. Hugh Peters, Mr. Thomas Scot, Mr. Gregory Clement, and

Colonels Scroop (or Scrope), John Jones, Francis Hacker, and Daniel

Axtell were sentenced. Most of them were executed at Charing Cross.

The case of Harrison was the most important. There is no doubt that

he took an active part in bringing Charles to the block; yet he

subsequently refused to assist Cromwell in his ambitions; he was

imprisoned by Cromwell and deprived of his commission; on his release

he retired to a private life, and refused to fly when the King

returned. Brought before the Court, he made no attempt to deny the

fact; on the contrary he gloried in it:—

“The act of which I stand accused was not a deed performed in a

corner; the sound of it has gone forth to most nations; and, in

the singular and marvellous conduct of it, has chiefly appeared

the sovereign power of Heaven.... I have often, agitated by

doubts, offered my addresses, with passionate tears, to the Divine

Majesty, and earnestly sought for light and conviction. I still

received assurances of a heavenly sanction, and returned from such

devout supplications with tranquillity and satisfaction. These

frequent illapses of the Divine Spirit I could not suspect to be

interested illusions: since I was conscious that for no temporal

advantage would I have offered injury to the poorest individual.

All the allurements of ambition, all the terrors of imprisonment

have not been able, during the usurpation of Cromwell, to shake my

steady resolution or bend me to a compliance with that deceitful

tyrant: and, when invited by him to sit on the right hand of

the throne—when offered riches, splendour, and dominion, I have

disdainfully rejected all temptations, and, neglecting the tears of

my friends and family, have still, through every danger, held fast

my principles and my integrity.”

He then refused to say more and submitted to the sentence of the Court.

The scene of the execution was Charing Cross; the day, October the

14th, 1661. Evelyn met the carts carrying away the mangled quarters.

“Oh!” he cried, “the miraculous providence of God!”

CHAPTER VI

THE REIGN

There is, perhaps, no time in the history of Great Britain of deeper

interest and importance than that which witnessed the restoration

and, later, the final expulsion of the Stuarts. We find the City at

the outset weary of its Commonwealth, and longing for that security

and order which are the best recommendations of a settled succession.

And then the old business begins again. It seems as if the history of

the last twenty years had been in vain, that the struggles and the

victories had been forgotten.

I have here to recount only the part played by London between the years

1660 and 1688. Not, that is, the part played in London, otherwise we

should have to consider nearly all the important events of the reign,

which was passed almost entirely at Whitehall. In many cases it is

difficult to decide between what belongs to London alone and what

belongs to London and the country.

The execution of Venner and his men did not clear the City of dangerous

elements. The Fifth Monarchy people and the Presbyterians exhorted

each other to withstand the introduction of the Book of Common Prayer

and the idolatry of the Court. Some of them refused to obey the law

unless the spirit ordered them. The City was full of disbanded officers

and men who were ready and anxious to take up arms again. The King

complained that the night watch was unable to cope with these turbulent

people, and ordered that only able men should be appointed, and that

their watch should continue all night.

The Act of Uniformity of 1662 ordered every minister, if he would

continue in his benefice, to assent to everything contained in the

Book of Common Prayer. On Sunday, August 17, all the Presbyterians

took leave of their congregations amid their tears and lamentations.

Then persecution set in. It must be confessed that the language and

action of some of the Nonconformists seemed to justify, in a certain

measure, the rigours of the Government. For instance, the Baptists are

said to have spoken openly of the King as the “Beast”; it was reported

that Presbyterians and Baptists together were preparing to resist by

force of arms; it must be remembered that these people represented the

Roundheads of twenty years before. The Act of Uniformity, rigorously

enforced, filled the prisons, made the Church of England hateful to the

people, and drove hundreds away to America and to Holland.

In the same year an Act was passed for raising money for the paving of

the streets of London by making every hackney coach—of which there were

then four hundred—pay a tax of five pounds a year; every load of hay,

sixpence; every load of straw, twopence. The Act provided especially

for the paving of Hedge Lane (Whitcomb Street), from Petty France to

St. James’s Palace, St. James’s Street, and Pall Mall. The paving was

the old-fashioned round cobbles; before they were laid down the road

was simply a trodden way, in the summer throwing up clouds of dust, in

the winter knee-deep in mud. The Act further provided for the widening

of certain ways and passages in the City. It is idle to ask if they

were widened, because the Fire came a few years later and swept all

away.

The King in the same year formally restored to the City their Irish

estates, which the Parliament had long before restored.

On June 24, 1663, Charles granted the Inspeximus Charter.

Accounts of the Plague of 1665 and the Fire of 1666 will be found in

other places (pp. 215, 240).

As soon as things were more settled after the Great Fire, the

Corporation considered how best to avoid the recurrence of such a

calamity. They divided the City into four divisions, each to be

supplied with 800 buckets, 50 ladders, from 12 to 42 feet in length, 2

brazen hand-squirts to each parish, 24 pickaxe sledges, and 40 “shod”

shovels. Each of the twelve great companies was to be provided with an

engine, 30 buckets, 3 ladders, 6 pickaxe sledges, and 2 hand-squirts.

The inferior companies were to have such a number of engines, etc., as

should be fixed by the Court of Aldermen. The Aldermen who had passed

the Shrievalty were to keep 24 buckets and 1 hand-squirt each in his

house. Those who had not yet passed the Shrievalty, half that number

of buckets. Fire-plugs were to be placed in the main water-pipes. The

companies of carpenters, bricklayers, plasterers, painters, masons,

smiths, plumbers, and paviours were to appoint for each company 2

master workmen, 4 journeymen, 8 apprentices, and 16 labourers, to be

ready on an alarm to turn out. And lastly, all the workmen belonging

to the several water-works, the sea coal meters, Blackwall Hall,

Leadenhall, ticket, package, and other porters, were to attend the Lord

Mayor and Sheriffs in such services. In other words, a fire brigade

was established of several hundreds, with means of putting out fires

amounting to about 1500 buckets and 300 hand-squirts. The weak point in

this machinery was the difficulty of getting at the men when they were

wanted, and the feeble nature of the hand-squirt.

The Fire produced confusion in ecclesiastical property, for the tithes

which had been levied from house to house could no longer be collected

owing to the changes of site, the substitution of a small house for

a great house, or _vice versâ_. It was therefore resolved that each

parish should be assessed at so much per annum in lieu of tithe, and

that each house should be assessed at its share of this amount. Trouble

afterwards arose in the working of this Act in consequence of houses

standing empty.

The rebuilding of London was a great time for the passing of ordinances

and regulations for the better preservation of order and cleanliness in

the City. Thus the foot-passage, or way along the streets, was at this

time ordered to be of flat or broad stone. The Fellowship of Carmen

was ordered to send round carts for the collection of all waste stuff,

which was to be conveyed to the nearest laystall.

The traffic in the streets was regulated. Carts had to stand along, not

across, the street; brewers and others were not to use more than one

horse, nothing was to be thrown into the streets, every householder had

to keep his own part of the street clean, and things offensive were not

to be carried about the streets before eleven o’clock at night.

The heavy losses caused first by the Plague, which stopped trade of

all kinds and destroyed many thousands of craftsmen and servants,

and next by the Fire, had reduced the City to a very low condition.

No one will ever be able to estimate the losses of or consider the

number of respectable families reduced to poverty, and plunged down

into the lowest depths. A Committee, appointed by the Common Council

to investigate the financial position of the City, had to recommend

the abolition of certain offices and resolute retrenchment in many

departments. Among other measures of economy the Committee recommended

the abolition of their chronologer (see p. 178).

On June 10, 1667, the City, which was as yet only half-built, presented

a most melancholy appearance. It had been devastated by plague, its

people lay by thousands in the burial-grounds, it had been destroyed

by fire, and now it seemed as if the last and crowning misery was to

be inflicted upon it. Men’s hearts sank within them. They asked if

their afflictions were laid upon them for their persecution of the

Quakers and the Baptists, for their imprisonment of the saints, for

the idolatries of the Court, and the corruption of the times. For it

was known on that day that the Dutch had sailed up the Medway and

burned the English men-of-war which were lying there, either without

a crew or with half their company discharged. For defence—an ignoble

defence—ships were sunk in the bed of the Thames at Barking, Woolwich,

and Blackwall. Every able-bodied man in the City was called out.

Had the Dutch continued, they must have been able to take the City.

Luckily they did not continue, and the Treaty of Breda put an end to

hostilities.

The City at this time returned to the mediæval use of passing long and

intricate regulations for the better management of the markets. The

most noteworthy provisions were two: that the Market Bell should ring

at six every morning, at which the market was to open _for housekeepers

only_ and such as bought for their own use; at ten the bell was to

ring again, at which time retailers and those who bought to sell again

should be allowed to enter.

Was the Temple within the City and its Liberties or not? The question

was answered in a practical manner by the Lord Mayor in March 1669,

when, with the Aldermen, he went to dine with the Reader of the Inner

Temple. He claimed that it was within his jurisdiction, and ordered

his sword-bearer to precede him carrying the sword up. The students,

as sticklers for the honour of the Temple, came out and ordered him to

lower the sword; they tried to snatch the sword away; they hustled the

marshal’s men and compelled the Mayor and Aldermen to take refuge in

the chambers of the Auditor Phillips while the Recorder and Sheriffs

hastened to Whitehall in order to lay the matter before the King. It

is not stated what message was sent by the King, but when the Sheriffs

came back and the Mayor attempted to get away there was another fight,

and the Aldermen were treated with the greatest disrespect. They again

retreated to the Chambers and again sent to the King. When the Sheriffs

returned, however, the students had gone to dinner and the unfortunate

civic procession was enabled to get out in an extremely undignified

manner.

In 1670 an Act of Parliament was passed suppressing conventicles. The

Act was carried out with great rigour; but the meeting-houses were

handed over to the Church of England to be used as churches until the

parish churches themselves should be rebuilt.

The attempted robbery of the Tower by Blood in 1671 may be mentioned

on account of the extraordinary interest excited everywhere by the

audacity of the crime. Otherwise it belongs to the history of the

country rather than to that of the City. There was whispering on

Change, murmurs and rumblings of discontent when it became known that

the man had not only received the King’s pardon, but also the King’s

favour and a grant of land. But, in fact, during the whole of this

reign, in which the King was encroaching as much as he dared, having

learned nothing from his father’s fate, and the City was defending her

liberties now feebly, now strongly, the air was filled with murmurs of

discontent and with whispers of approaching rebellion. It was as if an

impending earthquake announced its coming by subterranean rumblings.

How much the King heard and understood, how far he was prepared, if

necessary, for a new appeal to the sword, it is for the historian of

the country to investigate.

As a means of compensating those loyal and necessitous officers who had

suffered for their adherence to the Royalist cause, Charles granted

them one or more plate lotteries. Thus he presented the officers with

certain plate as a gift from the Crown; they were authorised to put it

up in lottery by tickets which were sold for the purpose. Thus, if the

plate was worth, say £1000, tickets to the value of £3000 were issued,

ensuring a large profit to the proprietor if all the tickets were sold.

We have now to consider the treatment of London by the King during

the latter part of his reign. One may ask with amazement how the

City, which had deposed Richard the Second for acts not nearly so

arbitrary as those of Charles the Second, which had driven Charles

the First from the throne for attempts far less despotic, could sit

down in submission, nay, almost without a protest, under tyrannies and

encroachments which indicated the determination to recognise neither

liberty nor privilege.

The bankers of the Middle Ages were the great merchants, the merchant

adventurers. Whittington held money for the landowners, advanced money

on the security of land, and in nearly all respects carried on the

business of a private bank. The merchant adventurers, who were mostly

mercers, were succeeded by the goldsmiths, who were private bankers,

kept the money of their customers—“running cash”—gave them cheques

under the name of “goldsmiths’ notes,” received money on deposit

account and gave interest for it; they made their own profits by

lending it out at higher interest. The customers were allowed 6 per

cent at twenty days’ sale and 3-1/2 per cent for money on demand. The

bankers took assignments of the public revenue for payment of principal

and interest as it came in.

Of these bankers the most important was Edward Blackwell. He was the

King’s intermediary in many important transactions. The pay of the

troops in Dunkirk passed through his hands; he went to France on

business for the King; he advanced money to the King, who owed him

in 1672 more than a quarter of a million. There were nearly forty

goldsmiths and bankers in Lombard Street. The money these bankers had

lent to the Exchequer on security of the public revenue amounted to

£1,300,000. In the year 1671 Charles wanted money. He was about to

enter upon the war with Holland. Parliament was prorogued; he would

always get money, if he could, without going to the House for it. In

this case he listened to the advice of Clifford and took a step, the

nature of which, one would hope, he did not comprehend. He resolved

upon closing the Exchequer. The meaning of this step is perhaps not

at once intelligible. It means that the repayments due to those who

had lent money to the Exchequer were withheld, and it means that the

interest due on these loans was refused payment. Imagine, if you can,

the consternation and the despair which would be spread around if

the interest on Bank of England Stock, or the London County Council

Debt, or any other large security were to be suddenly stopped at the

present day! Charles laid his hands on the whole amount. He took it.

He promised to resume payment within a year, with interest. He took

this money. And yet the City did not rise! Blackwell, with all the

goldsmiths in Lombard Street, was ruined. Those rich bankers who had

placed all their money in the King’s hands were utterly ruined; so were

the lesser folk, the hundreds of people who had entrusted their money

to the bankers of Lombard Street.

Not even Henry the Third, not even Richard the Second, ever inflicted

such a blow as this upon the City. In money of our day, and considering

the poverty of the City, it represents at least £6,000,000—nay, more,

because the interest was then more than double that of the present day,

say £8,000,000. Imagine the rage and consternation were such a blow to

be delivered at the Bank of England! Imagine the consternation if there

were to be no interest on a great part of the National Debt for a whole

year! Nay, the blow was far greater, because London two hundred years

ago was far, far less wealthy than at present, not only actually, but

in proportion to its population. Looking on London only as a trading

community it is quite certain that such a blow could never be forgiven.

When the opportunity should arise it would be remembered. It was not

his religion only that drove James from Whitehall, it was the memory

of this act of confiscation and the other acts of oppression which

followed.

The absence of resistance is at first sight most remarkable. I can

only account for this fact on the theory that the poverty of the City

and its weakness were much greater than is generally supposed. The

Plague, which swept away many thousands of bread-winners, left behind

it many thousands of penniless orphans. The Fire, which spared the

lives of the people, destroyed all they owned in the world: house,

furniture, stock in trade, tools, everything. The long civil wars

had helped to impoverish the City; the Dutch War was calamitous; in

other words, the City for many years had been living on its capital,

and now this was coming to an end. Again, the religious dissensions

of the City contributed to its weakness. It was the influence of the

Church of England which brought back the King; it was therefore with

an ill grace that they complained of the Royal exactions. The Church

of England had joined in persecuting the Nonconformists just as, in

the fifties, the Independents and the Presbyterians had joined in

persecuting the Anglicans. Moreover, from many a pulpit in the City,

day after day, the doctrine—the monstrous suicidal doctrine—of passive

obedience was preached. The “Judgment and Decree” of Oxford, issued a

few years later, was already on the lips of the High Church preachers.

It declared to be “false, seditious, and impious, even heretical and

blasphemous,” to hold that “authority is derived from the people;

that if lawful governors become tyrants, they forfeit their right

of governing; that the King hath but a co-ordinate right with the

other two estates, the Lords and the Commons, etc.,” and that passive

obedience is “the badge and character of the Church of England.”

The secret of the submission of the City under so many blows was

therefore (1) its poverty, (2) its internal dissensions, (3) the

doctrine of passive obedience inculcated by so many of the clergy.

Perhaps there was still some memory among middle-aged men of the sour

austerities enforced during the Commonwealth.

Many of the natural leaders of the City, those of the merchants who

were still in good circumstances, had withdrawn from the scene of

certain strife and possible disaster; they had taken houses in the

suburbs, especially those on the north and the east of the town. One

result was that their houses stood unoccupied. At this time we begin to

find the suburbs becoming the place of residence for City merchants;

at first the favourite quarters were in and about Stepney. Many

substantial houses were built in the midst of large gardens at Mile

End, Hoxton, Hackney, Ratcliffe, and Norton Folgate.

In February 1674 the general complaints about trade were so loud that

an attempt was made to seek redress from the Parliament. A petition,

setting forth the miserable condition of the City, was drawn up and

presented on February 23. Nothing was done, however, and on the 24th

the House was prorogued.

In the year 1675 compliments and presents passed between the King and

the City, noticeable only as showing the apparently unabated loyalty of

the City, and in 1677 the City offered a magnificent entertainment to

the King and Queen, the Duke of York, the Princesses Mary and Anne, and

the Prince of Orange, to celebrate the betrothal of the Princess Mary.

After the regulation of the Provision Markets the Common Council turned

their attention to the Cloth Market and produced a set of regulations

which, one may confidently assume, could never have been mastered by

the honest vendors of cloth. They may be found set forth at length in

Maitland’s _History_.

Then followed one of those dreary disputes which can hardly be read

with patience. It was the old question whether the Court of Aldermen

had the power to veto the decisions and orders of the Common Council.

How was it ended? I quote the words of Sharpe (_London and the

Kingdom_, ii. p. 454):—

“One result of the _contretemps_ which had occurred in the Court

of Common Council of the 12th March was that the Court of Aldermen

resolved to retain certain counsel to advise them as occasion

should arise on the question of their rights and privileges, and

to create a fund by subscription among themselves to meet the

necessary expenses.

In April the Town Clerk and the Four Clerks of the outer court

(_i.e._ mayor’s court) were instructed to search the books and

records of the city on the question whether or not it was the

province of the lord mayor (1) to direct and put the question in

the Common Council, (2) to name committees, and (3) to nominate

persons to be put in election to any office. This last point

especially affected the right claimed by the Mayor to nominate (if

not to elect) one of the sheriffs by virtue of his prerogative—a

claim which had already been more than once canvassed, and which

was destined shortly to bring the City and the Crown into violent

opposition.

On the 7th September 1675 the Court of Aldermen directed that

the opinion of counsel should be taken on the power of the mayor

and aldermen to put their veto on matters passed by the Common

Council. After the lapse of fifteen months the opinions of Sir

William Jones, the attorney-general, Sir Francis Winnington,

solicitor-general, Sir John Maynard and Sir Francis Pemberton,

sergeants-at-law, and of ‘Mr. William Steele’ (_not_ a former

Recorder of that name as some have supposed) were presented to

the court (5th Dec. 1676); and with the exception of the last

mentioned, all the lawyers declared in favour of the mayor and

aldermen. There the matter was allowed to rest for a year or more

until in February 1678 the opinions of Sir William Dolben, not long

since appointed the city’s Recorder, and of Jeffreys, the Common

Sergeant, who was destined in a few months to succeed Dolben on the

latter’s promotion to the bench, were taken and found to coincide

with the opinions already delivered with the exception of that of

William Steele.”

[Illustration: HUNGERFORD MARKET, NEAR YORK BUILDINGS, STRAND.

_Built by Sir Edward Hungerford, created Knight of the Bath at the

Coronation of King Charles the Second_

From a contemporary print.]

On the termination of the French war, Charles asked the City to lend

him another _£_200,000. The City consented amid gloomy forebodings.

What did the King want with the money? What was he going to do with

it? Would he introduce foreign troops and so destroy the liberties of

the people? It is a singular illustration of the affection which the

City is said to have always entertained for Charles that these things

should have been whispered about. It was not affection, it was fear.

This Prince, whom we suppose to have been always under the influence

of women, always wallowing in pleasure, had proved himself a strong

man and a crafty man; he showed when he seized that money, not only

his own strength, but also the weakness of the City. He did what he

pleased with them, and he continued to do what he pleased with them

as long as he lived. In one point, however, Charles was powerless; he

could not abolish the national hatred and suspicion of the Catholics.

The Popish Plot, invented by Titus Oates, drove the City into a state

of panic meaningless and causeless. Sir Edmondbury Godfrey was found

dead on Primrose Hill the day after he had received the deposition of

Titus Oates. Murdered by the Papists of course! Why, then, did they

not murder Titus Oates himself? No one felt safe. The City gates were

closed, the streets were protected by post and chains, the City was in

a state of siege, with no enemy in sight or existence.

In the year 1679 the King was attacked by fever, and for some time

was believed to be in danger. The City realised, then, at least, that

his successor was a Catholic. Therefore when Charles recovered, the

joybells and the bonfires represented much more than a common and

perfunctory rejoicing. The King recovered, and made haste to show

the true nature of his sentiments towards the City. He was very much

annoyed by the presentation of a number of petitions from all parts

of the country, including London, in favour of calling a Parliament.

He went so far as to prohibit (December 1672) “tumultuous petitions,”

the adjective meaning petitions such as might lead to civil war.

Notwithstanding this prohibition the City of London dared to present

another petition urging his Majesty “for the preservation of his royal

person and government, and the Protestant religion, he would graciously

please to order that parliament, his Great Council, might assemble and

sit to take measures against the machinations of Rome.”

When, in November 1680, the House did meet, the City sent up another

petition. They urged the King to lend an ear to the advice tendered by

the House for his own safety and the preservation of the Protestant

religion; “they promised to be ready at all times to promote his

Majesty’s ease and prosperity, and to stand by him against all dangers

and hazards whatsoever.”

The deputation which presented the petition were bluntly told to go

home and mind their own business.

Six months later the City presented another petition expressing

surprise at the prorogation of the House, “whereby the prosecution of

the public justice of the kingdom has received an interruption,” and

prayed that the House might resume its sessions on the day to which

it had been prorogued as being “the only means to quiet the minds and

extinguish the fears of your Protestant subjects.” The King’s answer

was the dissolution of Parliament, and the announcement that he would

call another for March 1 to sit at Oxford.

[Illustration: _The Solemn Mock Procession of the POPE, Cardinalls,

Jesuits, Fryers, etc: through y^e City of London, November y^e 17^{th}

1679_

From the Crace Collection, British Museum.]

All this anxiety meant that the Duke of York was not to succeed if he

could be kept out. And Charles, for his part, was not going to take any

steps to prevent the succession of his brother.

There were, however, other instruments at work to keep up the

anti-Papal feeling. Chief among these was the King’s Head Club. The

King’s Head Tavern stood over against the Inner Temple. The members

of the Club were at first Lord Shaftesbury’s friends, but others,

especially young men of good family, were admitted. In order to be

known by each other they wore a green ribbon in their hats. Their

principal discourse turned upon the perils of Popery. The true purpose

of the founders was to foster the anti-Catholic spirit, and to keep it

alive and strong enough to prevent the succession of James. Among other

things, for instance, they got up processions, in which the Pope was

carried in effigy with two or three devils to decorate his chair. In

the end Pope, devils, and all were tumbled into the bonfire.

The Oxford House of Commons lasted a week only. The City presented

another address of remonstrance. For a second time they were told to

mind their own business.

When a really clever thing is done in the name of the King he always

gets the credit of the cleverness. The reduction of the City into a

collection of men and women without rights, liberties, or government,

other than what the King might grant and allow, was a piece of work

which reflects the highest credit on whoever devised it, designed it,

or carried it out.

The last years of Charles’s reign were occupied in a determined and

a successful effort to reduce the Corporation to submission and to

make it, so to speak, a pocket borough. In these efforts he completely

succeeded. Where the first Charles had failed, the second Charles

succeeded.

The petitions of the Corporation were counterbalanced by others from

the Borough of Southwark, from the Lieutenancy of London, and from

20,000 ’prentices to the opposite effect.

The last of these petitions gave the greatest pleasure to the Court.

The loyal ’prentices were rewarded with a splendid banquet given to

them in the Merchant Taylors’ Hall. The Duke of Grafton, the Earl of

Mulgrave, Lord Hyde, and Sir Joseph Williamson acted as stewards, and

1500 tickets were given away among those who had signed the petition.

The tickets contained the following invitation: “You are invited, and

desired, by the Right Honourable and others of the stewards, elected

at a meeting of the loyal young men and addressers, July 28, 1682, to

take a dinner (together with other loyal young freemen and apprentices

of the City of London) at Merchant Taylors’ Hall, on Wednesday the 9th

of this instant August, at 12 o’clock.” The King himself, to grace the

board, sent a brace of “very good bucks.” They were carried into the

City upright in a cart, stuck with boughs. Three thousand sat down to

this entertainment.

Charles, in fact, discovered with joy that there were two parties in

the City, and that the loyal party was apparently of strength nearly

equal to the “country” party He resolved, therefore, so to manage the

conduct of the City as to bring the election of all the officers into

the hands of the Royalists—that is to say, into his own hands. The

contest began with the election of the Sheriffs.

There had been many attempts made from the commencement of the

fourteenth century to take away the election of the Sheriffs from

the Commonalty. But in 1347 the Mayor obtained the right, or took

the right, of nominating and electing one of the Sheriffs, while the

Commonalty elected the other. For 300 years this right was exercised,

either without opposition or with faint grumblings.

The Lord Mayor continued to exercise this right for 300 years. In the

year 1641, when everything began to be questioned, the Commonalty

protested against this custom. The question was referred by the King to

the House of Lords, who refused to settle it, ordering that for that

year the Mayor’s nominee should be chosen by the Commonalty, without

prejudice to the Mayor’s right in the matter.

Here, then, was established a very pretty ground of quarrel. For the

next nine years the Mayor continued to nominate and the Commonalty

continued to protest. Then for the following nine years the Mayor

abandoned his privilege. But it still remained open for him to claim

it and to exercise it. In fact, in 1662 he did both. The Commonalty

protested but elected his man. For seven years after this the Mayor

continued to exercise his right. In 1674, however, the Common Council

appointed a Committee to investigate the case. The Mayor drank, as

usual, to the man whom he chose. The Committee recommended an Act of

Common Council to settle the question. No such Act was passed.

In 1680 the question proceeded to the acute stage. It was just before

the discovery by Charles of the strong Court party in the City.

The Mayor nominated one Hockenhall, who refused to serve, and paid his

fine. The Commons therefore elected Slingsby Bethel and Henry Cornish,

both men of the Puritan party, and the former a strong republican and

an enemy to everything that looked like feasting and joy. The nominees

of the Court party who suffered defeat were Box and Nicholson. Cornish

refused, for instance, to give the customary dinner to the Aldermen. He

was regarded with great aversion by the Court party for his republican

tendencies.

In the following year the two Sheriffs, Pilkington and Shute, were of

the same party and were elected against the same Court nominees as in

the previous year. The King, when the Recorder and the two Sheriffs

waited upon him, expressed in the presence of the latter the fact that

they were personally unwelcome to him.

One would think that the Common Council had had enough rebuffs over

their petitions. But they drew up another, which they presented to the

King, with the same result as before.

In September 1681 the Court party got a Mayor of their own, one

Sir John Moore. It was their first success. The King expressed his

satisfaction at the election of so loyal and worthy a magistrate.

And, in order to mark his sense of the late elections of Sheriffs, he

issued, in January 1682, a writ calling upon the citizens to show by

what warrant they claimed their liberties and franchises:—

“These were (1) the right to be of themselves a body corporate and

politic, by the name of mayor, commonalty and citizens of the city

of London, (2) the right to have sheriffs of the city and county

of London and county of Middlesex, and to name, elect, make and

constitute them, and (3) the right of the mayor and aldermen of the

city to be justices of the peace and hold Sessions of the Peace”

(_Sharpe_, ii. 477).

The City received the writ much as their ancestors had received notice

of an Iter. It was troublesome, but it was lawyers’ work. They were

not afraid of having exercised any usurpation of rights; let the

lawyers deal with it. The lawyers, therefore, took it in hand for a

time, and while they prepared the case, matters rested.

[Illustration: LORD MAYOR AND ALDERMEN

From Pennant’s London, in British Museum.]

Meantime the people of the City were ranged definitely into two

factions; on the one side were those who stood for rights and

liberties; for toleration of religion—it was notorious that they would

have no toleration while they were in power—and for Parliamentary

government. This party contained the better class of citizens,

the merchants, the responsible citizens, and the whole of the

Nonconformists. The other party, which remembered the severe times

when the theatres were closed and dancing and singing were criminal

offences, contained the most of the clergy of the Church of England,

all the Catholics, all those who were connected with the old Royalist

families, and that powerful body, the ’prentices of London.

The former party was under the leadership of Pilkington; the latter

under that of the Lord Mayor.

The shrievalty of Pilkington was terminated in an extremely

disagreeable manner by the Duke of York bringing an action against him

for libel. The Sheriff was accused of saying that the Duke had burned

down the City and was going to cut the throats of the citizens. The

Duke had little cause to be friendly with the City, where his portrait

had been cut and hacked, and where such things were openly said about

him. At the same time it was a vindictive action, and one which he did

not dare to have tried in a City court. He removed it, one knows not

by what authority, to the county of Hertford, where it was heard by a

packed jury. It is quite uncertain whether Pilkington uttered the words

attributed to him. Alderman Sir Henry Tulse and Sir William Hooker

swore that he did say these words. Sir Patience Ward swore that if

the words were said, it was before Pilkington’s arrival on the scene.

However, there was no hesitation on the part of the jury. They found

for the plaintiff with £100,000 damages.

The name of Pilkington belongs to two or three Protestant champions of

a somewhat earlier time. Thomas Pilkington, born about 1620, the son

of a country gentleman of good family, like so many London citizens,

was probably related to, or descended from, James Pilkington, Bishop

of Durham, Leonard Pilkington, Master of St. John’s, Cambridge,

and Richard Pilkington, Archdeacon of Leicester; all these were

controversialists in their generation. Thomas Pilkington, therefore,

had Protestantism in his blood. He was Master of the Skinners’ Company,

one of the City members, Alderman of Farringdon Without, and, as we

have seen, Sheriff in 1681.

He was a marked man at Court; not only did he never disguise his

principles, but entertained at his house Shaftesbury, Essex, and other

leaders of the Whig party.

On hearing the result of the libel case he made no effort to escape but

quietly surrendered to the bail, was committed to prison, and resigned

his aldermanry, to which Sheriff North succeeded. He remained in prison

four years, when the King released him. Sir Patience Ward, for giving

evidence in his favour, was proceeded against for perjury and found

guilty. Like Lord Shaftesbury he took refuge in Holland.

To complete the history of Pilkington. When the opportunity arrived

he did his best to send James on his travels and to welcome William;

he was reinstated in his office of Alderman; he was three times Lord

Mayor, and at his first installation banquet he entertained the King

and Queen.

Before the trial which condemned him, Pilkington had to take his part

in the election of the new Sheriffs, June 24, 1682.

It was not to be thought that the Lord Mayor would neglect his

opportunity of securing one of the Sheriffs for his own side. He

therefore drank to one Dudley North, and issued a precept to the

companies to meet for the purpose of informing his nominee and electing

another Sheriff. The following is his letter (_Maitland_, i. p. 474):—

“BY THE MAYOR.

“These are to require you, That on Midsummer-Day next, being the

Day appointed as well for Confirmation of the Person WHO

HATH BEEN BY ME CHOSEN, according to the ancient Custom and

Constitution of this City, to be one of the Sheriffs of this City

and County of Middlesex for the Year ensuing, as for the Election

of the other of the said Sheriffs, and other officers, you cause

the Livery of your Company to meet together at your common Hall

early in the Morning, and from thence to come together decently

and orderly in their Gowns to Guildhall, there to make the said

Confirmation and Election. Given the Nineteenth of June, 1682.

JOHN MOOR.”

On Midsummer Day, we read, the Liverymen assembled in the Guildhall

in great numbers. When the Mayor and Aldermen were arrived upon the

Hustings, the Common Crier made proclamation: “You Gentlemen of the

Livery of London, attend your Confirmation;” upon which there arose

a tumult of voices crying, “No Confirmation! No Confirmation!” and

so continued for half an hour. The Recorder at last procured silence

and made a speech upon their privileges. The Lord Mayor and Aldermen

then withdrew, and the Common Serjeant offered to speak amid cries of

“Election! Election! To the Day’s Work!”

The question of confirmation was shelved, and there were put in

nomination for Sheriffs, Dudley North and Ralph Box, of the Court side,

and Thomas Papillon and John Dubois, of the other side.

On a show of hands the two latter had an enormous majority. But a poll

was demanded. It was noticed that a great many persons were present

who had no right of entry, not being citizens; they carried swords and

insulted the Liverymen and endeavoured to make a disturbance. In this

they were unsuccessful. About seven in the evening the Lord Mayor came

to the Hall and ordered all to depart till three days later. But the

Sheriffs took no notice of this order and continued the Poll, hoping to

finish that day. At nine o’clock, there being three or four thousand

people in the Guildhall, the Sheriff closed for the day, and adjourned

the Poll till the Tuesday following (it was then Saturday).

So the Sheriffs went home, followed by crowds crying out “God bless the

Protestant Sheriffs! God bless Papillon and Dubois!” This was construed

into a riot, for which the Sheriffs Pilkington and Shute were committed

to the Tower, but immediately afterwards admitted to bail. On the 1st

of July they met at Common Hall, and refusing to obey the order of the

Lord Mayor to adjourn the meeting, declared Papillon and Dubois duly

elected Sheriffs.

Had the Sheriffs the right to ignore the Mayor’s orders? That remained

to be proved. Meantime on the 7th the Mayor repaired to the Guildhall

to carry on the Poll, taking no notice of the Sheriffs’ proceedings.

There was a dispute, naturally, and the Mayor adjourned the Hall until

the 11th.

The matter was laid before the King, who decided that a new election

should take place. Sharpe gives two versions of what took place at this

new election.

According to the official account, Dudley North was duly confirmed and

gave his consent to take office. On taking votes for the other three,

Papillon had 60 voices, Dubois 60, and Box 1244. Therefore Box was

elected.

According to a tract of the time, a separate poll was opened on the

same day by the Sheriffs; all four candidates were submitted to the

Hall. Only 107 voted for the confirmation of North, and 2414 against

it. After the declaration of this result the Mayor caused the reading

of the other, which caused so great an uproar that the Mayor and

Aldermen left the Hall, and the Sheriffs declared Papillon and Dubois

duly elected.

Then petitions were drawn up, praying that as Papillon and Dubois had

been duly elected, the Court would call them; also that a _caveat_

should be entered against North and Box being admitted. The Mayor

returned an evasive answer. The huge majority in favour of Box at the

Mayor’s poll is explained by a remark of Maitland, that nobody voted

for Papillon and Dubois because they had already carried them at the

Sheriffs’ poll.

Box at this point retired, paying the fine. The Mayor therefore

ordered another Common Hall for the election of his successor, and

put forward one Peter Rich. There was a great tumult in the Hall. The

people shouted for their own men, Papillon and Dubois; the Mayor, going

through the ceremony in dumb show, declared Rich duly elected. He then

dissolved the Common Hall and went home. Then the Sheriffs proceeded to

open the Poll, and found 2082 votes in favour of their former choice,

and only 35 for Rich.

The Sheriffs—who were still Pilkington and Shute—proclaimed the result

of the Poll, and the election of Papillon and Dubois.

Then the Mayor and some of the Aldermen went to Whitehall and informed

the King what had happened. The Sheriffs were summoned before the

Council. They were ordered to enter in their own recognizances for

£1000.

Two days afterwards Rich and North were sworn in as Sheriffs, the

Guildhall being guarded by the trained bands. It was ominous of the

feeling in the City that the Mercers’ Company, to which North belonged,

refused to pay him the common compliment of going with him to the

Guildhall on entering upon office.

So far the Court had won. They now had the Lord Mayor and the Sheriffs;

the next thing was to secure the successor to the Mayoralty.

This was done, apparently, by making a false return of the votes. Four

Aldermen were put up. The Poll placed first and second on the list Gold

and Cornish, both belonging to the popular side. A scrutiny was made

by the Court of Aldermen (October 24) that maintained this result, but

the Mayor, on the 25th, brought in a result which put Pritchard, a

man of the Court party, at the head of the list. It is true that the

first difference between Gold and Pritchard was only 56, so that a very

little manipulation was required.

In order to obtain a Royalist Common Council, Charles ordered that none

should be elected who had not conformed to the Corporation Act.

In February 1683 the hearing of the _Quo Warranto_ case came on. The

points at issue have already been detailed. The pleadings in the case

may be found in Maitland.

The following judgment was pronounced by Mr. Justice Jones on June 12:—

“That a city might forfeit its Charter; that the Malversations of

the Common Council were the Acts of the whole City; and that the

two Points set forth in the Pleadings were just grounds for the

forfeiting of a Charter. Upon which Premises the proper Conclusion

seemed to be, That therefore the City of London had forfeited their

Charter.”

The Attorney-General moved that the judgment might not be recorded.

After this judgment the City was greatly astonished and perplexed. The

popular party wanted to enter the judgment and to leave the King to do

what he pleased. The Court party were for absolute surrender of their

liberties and submission to the King. Maitland gives in full a paper

which was circulated at that time, showing what would be lost if the

City surrendered its Charter:—

“There being so great a Murmur, and so much discourse, that the

Charter of this City of London is to be made forfeit, or else

surrendered by a Common Council, ’tis fit for every member of this

City to understand, that the Meaning or Intent of such a Forfeiture

or Surrender, is to dissolve the Body Corporate or Politic of the

City, to spoil it irrecoverably of all its antient Government,

Laws, Customs and Rights, which have been its glory throughout

Europe near two thousand Years, to bring it into the same State

with the Country Villages, only capable to be created a new Body

politick by the Grace and Favour of his Majesty, and to obtain such

Privileges as the Crown can grant, which are infinitely inferior to

the Customs, Franchises, Rights and Government it now holds by the

Laws and Statutes of the Kingdom.

If then there be any Danger either of a Forfeiture or Surrender

of this City’s Charter, every Member of it is concerned, not only

in Interest, but in Duty, to contribute what Assistance he can to

perserve and secure it.

For that Purpose every Citizen upon taking his Freedom is sworn to

maintain the Franchise and customs of the City, and to keep the

City harmless, to his Power; and whatsoever Citizen shall openly

attempt, or privately contrive, the Destruction of the Corporation,

its Customs, or Franchises, betrays the Community, and violates his

said oath, from which no Power on Earth can absolve.”

The writer then enumerates all the rights, privileges, and possessions

which the City would lose, never to regain them again, and concludes:—

“The death of a Corporation reduceth it to nothing; and ’twill then

be, as if it had never been, in respect of Debts or Credits; there

can be no Successor, Heir, or Executor to demand or answer for the

Body that was.

Therefore all the Goods and Chatels of the City must fall to the

King, to be given and disposed of, as he pleaseth.

And all its Lands and real Estate in the Exchange, Guildhall, etc.,

must of right revert unto the Heirs of the Donors, if there be any,

or escheat to the Crown, for want of such Heirs.

But the Face of Confusion is so full of Horror, that will appear

after the Dissolution of this mighty Body by Forfeiture or

Surrender of its Charter, that I tremble to look upon it afar off.

The Lord Cook says, It would require a Volume of itself to treat

of the great and notable Franchises, Liberties and Customs of this

City. And no less a Volume would be necessary to describe the

Disorders, Losses, Distractions, Mischiefs and Confusions that must

attend the Destruction and the Death of so great a Body Politick.

And the City of London by this Means, which is now one of the

antientest Cities in the whole World, will at the time of such

Surrender be the youngest City and Corporation in England”

(_Maitland_, i. pp. 481, 482).

However, the City submitted.

They were informed by the Lord Keeper that the King accepted their

submission in consideration of the many loyal citizens in London, but

with conditions, which were as follows:—

“1. That no Lord Mayor, Sheriff, Recorder, Common-Serjeant,

Town-Clerk, or Coroner of the City of London, or Steward of the

Borough of Southwark, shall be capable of, or admitted to, the

Exercise of their respective Offices, before his Majesty shall have

approved them under his Sign Manual.

2. That, if his Majesty shall disapprove the Choice of any Person

to be Lord Mayor, and signify the same under his Sign-Manual to the

Lord Mayor, or, in default of a Lord Mayor, to the Recorder, or

senior Alderman, the Citizens shall within one Week proceed to a

new Choice. And, if his Majesty shall in like Manner disapprove the

second Choice, his Majesty may, if he please, nominate a Person to

be Lord Mayor for the ensuing Year.

3. If his Majesty shall, in like Manner, disapprove the Persons

chosen to be Sheriffs, or either of them, his Majesty may appoint

Persons to be Sheriffs for the ensuing Year by his Commission, if

so he please.

4. That the Lord Mayor, and Court of Aldermen may also, with the

Leave of his Majesty, displace any Alderman, Recorder, etc., _ut

supra_.

5. Upon the Election of an Alderman, if the Court of Aldermen shall

judge and declare the Person presented to be unfit, the Ward shall

chuse again; and, upon a Disapproval of a second Choice, the Court

may appoint another in his Room.

6. The Justices of the Peace are to be by the King’s Commission;

and the settling of these matters to be left to his Majesty’s

Attorney and Solicitor-General, and Council learned in Law.”

The City were also informed that if they accepted these conditions

all would be well with them. If, on the other hand, they refused, the

Attorney-General would enter upon judgment on the following Saturday.

The Court of Common Council was called to consider the propositions.

Some of them declared that rather than accept such slavish conditions

they would sacrifice everything. But, by a majority of eighteen, the

conditions were accepted.

While these things were going on Papillon obtained a writ of Latitat

on an action upon this case against the Mayor, Dudley North, and some

of the Aldermen. They were all served with this writ by one Brown, an

attorney, and a clerk to the Skinners’ Company. He not only served

them with the writ, but he arrested them all and carried them off to

Skinners’ Hall, where he kept them as prisoners till one o’clock in the

morning. He was then, however, himself arrested for debt and carried

off to the Compter, so that the prisoners were able to walk home.

This story to my mind, untrained in legal subtleties, is mysterious.

By whose authority could the chief magistrate of the City be arrested

within his own jurisdiction? And why did the Lord Mayor, the Sheriff,

and the Aldermen go meekly in the custody of an attorney-clerk to a

City company?

The conclusion of the story, however, is an action brought by Pritchard

when his time of office was expired. It was heard before Judge

Jeffreys, and resulted in damages against Papillon of £10,000. He

therefore made haste to put the sea between himself and prison.

Then came the question whether the City should voluntarily surrender

their liberties. The Recorder was strongly against this step; if they

freely surrendered their liberties there would be no redress open

to them; if they did not and judgment was entered, they could take

proceedings by writ of error. Finally, by 103 to 85 it was resolved not

to surrender.

Judgment was therefore entered against the City. The King was now

therefore absolutely master of the City. He allowed Pritchard to

continue as Mayor and the two Sheriffs to remain; eight Aldermen were

dismissed; sixteen were made Justices of the Peace; the Recorder was

dismissed and another appointed, and Sir Henry Tulse was nominated

Mayor to succeed Pritchard.

Now had Charles the First been clever enough at the outset to secure

and use for his own interest the Court party in the City, all his

troubles might have been avoided. On the other hand, had Charles the

Second begun his reign instead of ending it with the enslaving of

the City, he might have died the same death as his father, with the

certainty that there would have been none to lament him. The City was

not yet, however, made safe; there remained the companies. These also,

being served with a _Quo Warranto_, had to surrender their charters and

receive new ones with certain trifling conditions.

I have said nothing of the national aspect of this struggle. Let us

remind ourselves that the conquest of London was only part of the

conquest of the kingdom; that the triumph of despotism in London was

accompanied by the triumph of despotism in the country. The country

party was broken up. Shaftesbury had fled; with him many of the London

merchants; Essex had committed suicide; Lord Russell and Algernon

Sidney had been executed; Monmouth had fled. The towns attacked, like

London, with _Quo Warranto_, surrendered their charters and received

them back, with conditions. Oxford had declared for passive obedience.

All but the most thorough loyalists were excluded from the franchise;

Charles had the representation of every borough in his own hands. More

than this, he had an army of 10,000 men.

The wonderful ability with which this Revolution was effected may be

credited to Charles’s ministers; one seems, however, to perceive the

King’s brain devising and the King’s hand executing the whole. And the

master-stroke of all was that by which he acquired the whole power; he

violated no law and executed no overt acts of tyranny. He was using the

forms and institutions of liberty for the purpose of crushing liberty.

He did not even restore old abuses; the Star Chamber and the Court of

High Commission did not reappear. Freedom of the press was granted. The

Habeas Corpus Act was passed. And the City of London, stripped of all

real power, retained the form of it, and on the strength of the form

seemed to preserve the old loyalty and the old personal affection for

the King who had taken away its powers and its privileges. And this was

even a more wonderful achievement for Charles than his triumph. Yet the

loyalty and the affection were but forms and shadows like the ghostly

form of its liberties left to the City.

What the King would have done with his absolute authority one knows

not, because in the very hour of his success he was stricken down by

death. I have refrained from speaking much of Charles’s Court, because

by this time the Court and the City were entirely separate, and were

drifting apart more and more. Yet one cannot avoid asking what the

better class of people, what the baser sort, knew of the Court and the

life led by King Charles and his courtiers. Something of the King’s

mistresses they knew; witness the well-known story of Nell Gwynne

and the mob; witness also that other story of the riot in 1668 when

the ’prentices pulled down and wrecked certain disorderly houses in

Moorfields, saying that they did “ill in contenting themselves with

pulling down the little brothels and did not go to pull down the big

one at Whitehall.” Eight of the rioters were hanged for this offence,

which did not stop the appearance of the Remonstrance pretending to be

a petition from the women whose houses had been destroyed to the King’s

mistresses at Whitehall. But they could not have known the corruption,

the venality, and the profligacy of Whitehall; that could only be

learned by the _habitués_; there were no papers to spread the infamy

abroad; there was no fierce light of journalism thrown upon the King’s

private life.

The general belief concerning the Court of Charles II. is that it

presented to the world nothing but a long-continued pageant of

profligacy, extravagance, luxury, waste, and open contempt of morals.

We remember Evelyn’s often-quoted account of the last Sunday evening

before the fatal seizure; Pepys tell us what he saw and heard; De

Grammont’s book is well known to all; the name and the fame and the

shame of the King’s mistresses are notorious; the men seem devoid of

honour, and the women match the men. It appears, to one who would

restore the palace in the days of the Merry Monarch, that all day

long the courts of Whitehall echo with the tinkling guitar; at every

window is a light o’ love; below one of these the King converses gaily

and carelessly; we hear the laughter, loud and coarse, of the titled

harlots; with painted faces and languishing eyes they roll by in their

coaches; the singing boys practise the latest part song by Tom D’Urfey;

the courtiers are loud with ribald jest. I suppose that these things

cannot be denied. It is, however, a great mistake to suppose that there

was no serious side to the Court. In the first place, it is impossible

to conduct the business of the kingdom without an immense amount of

ceremony and state. Charles was not an Edward the Second; there is

nothing to show that he did not do what was expected of a king with

as much dignity as his father, even though he did not take himself

so seriously. There were grave and weighty troubles and difficulties

in his reign; domestic troubles such as the Fire of London; foreign

troubles such as the war with the Dutch; the King’s counsellors were

for the most part grave and serious men. Add to this that every officer

in the numerous household and following of the King desired and

expected his rank and dignity to be respected.

[Illustration: NELL GWYNNE (1650–1687)

From the painting by Sir Peter Lely in the National Portrait Gallery,

London.]

There were daily duties to be performed. The King held a levée every

morning; he went in state to prayers; he received his ministers and

sat at the Council; he dined in public; the Court was open to any one

who might venture to claim the rank and consideration of a gentleman;

the King was accessible to all. The quiet, dull Court of the Georges

was a new thing altogether in the land. Charles kept open house, like

the kings of France. He walked fearlessly and almost unattended in

the Park and in his gardens; one cannot, I repeat, deny the gambling,

singing, and love-making which the King permitted and encouraged; but

I plead for Charles that amount of serious attention to his state and

dignity of his position, no small amount, which was necessary for the

mere maintenance of kingship. In other things the laxness of his morals

did not prevent the assertion of his prerogative, especially in his

dealings with the City of London. No king before him, for instance, had

dared to inflict upon the City so enormous a fine as that when Charles

shut up the Exchequer and robbed the merchants of a million and a

half of money. This one action, so bold, so calculated both as to the

occasion and the probable impotence of the City to resist it, ought

to be alone sufficient to set aside completely the old theory of the

jaded voluptuary. It was not, again, the jaded voluptuary who plotted,

planned, and carried out the destruction of the City liberties; it was

a Stuart, with all the cleverness of his race, with all the tenacity of

his father and his brother, and with all the inability to discern the

forces that were arrayed against him and to comprehend the certainty

of their success. He died in the moment of his success, leaving to his

brother the fruits of his despotic measures in ruin and deposition

(_see_ Appendix I.).

[Illustration: A Perspective of WESTMINSTER-ABBY from the High-Altar

to the West end. Shewing the manner of His Majesties’s CROWNING.

THE CORONATION OF JAMES II. IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY

From a contemporary print. E. Gardner’s Collection.]

CHAPTER VII

JAMES II

The short reign of James afforded to the City a time of continual

surprises and ceaseless anxiety, with the corresponding emotions of

joy, sorrow, disappointment, and despair.

The reign began with an assurance that the established government,

that of Church and State, would be respected and maintained. The

King, however, showed what he understood by the proclamation when he

continued to receive the customs which had been settled on Charles

for life, and which could not be exacted by his successor without

the assent of Parliament. James announced his intention of speedily

calling a Parliament at the same time as he proclaimed his continuance

of taking the customs. In the same illegal way he took over the excise

duties.

[Illustration: TITUS OATES FLOGGED AT THE CART TAIL]

Meantime the Mayor and Aldermen, in accordance with the successful

craft of Charles, were mostly nominees of the King; they were

instructed to admit to the liveries of the City Companies none but

persons of “unquestionable loyalty”; so that, as Charles had provided,

the whole of the governing bodies in the City were mere creatures of

the Court.

One can hardly be surprised at the arrest and punishment of Titus

Oates when James succeeded. At the same time to flog a man all the

way from Aldgate to Newgate, and two days afterwards from Newgate

to Tyburn, seems, short of the tortures of a Damiens,[3] the most

horrible barbarity ever inflicted on a criminal since the time when a

Roman could flog a slave to death. The first day’s march at the cart

tail was a mile and a quarter in length; the next was over two miles

and a half. Titus was flogged the whole way, with an interval of two

days. If the cart was driven slowly, as was always the case, say at the

rate of three miles an hour, and if the whip descended fifteen times

a minute, the wretched man would receive 375 lashes on the first day,

and two days after he would receive 750 lashes. Perhaps the executioner

was less rapid in his movements; perhaps the cart moved more quickly.

Perhaps the executioner was one of the many who still believed in

the perjured wretch and sympathised with him. Yet even the closest

friend would have to make a show of laying it on with a will. The man

survived, showing how much agony a man may suffer before it kills him.

[Illustration: TITUS OATES IN THE PILLORY]

Short as was the reign of James, it provided for the Londoners many

other scenes and dramatic situations.

On July 15 the populace gathered together in immense crowds to witness

the execution of the unfortunate Duke of Monmouth. They brought him out

of the Tower surrounded by a strong guard, while commanding officers

had orders to shoot the prisoner should any attempt be made at a

rescue. This was more than probable, seeing that in the vast concourse

of people who were collected on Tower Hill, nine out of ten wished in

their hearts that the Protestant champion had won the day at Sedgemoor,

while some of them had even been with him on that fatal night, though

they were by no means anxious that their friends should know the fact.

The prisoner, still young, still the loveliest man to look upon in the

three kingdoms, mounted the scaffold; he showed a firm countenance at

the end. Did any of the spectators ask each other whether this handsome

face had in it the slightest sign of kinship with the black and dour

face of Charles? He knelt down; the headsman, trembling, delivered

three strokes, then threw down the axe and swore he would not go on;

but, taking up the axe again, in two more strokes severed the head from

the body. Then the people, sick and sorry, returned to their homes.

The fall of Monmouth offered an opening, which James was not likely

to forego, for the enjoyment of private revenge, and for giving a

lesson to zealous Protestants. Henry Cornish, late Sheriff, had shown

activity against Catholics on the occasion of the Rye House Plot. Let

him, therefore, be legally murdered.

Henry Cornish was by trade a “factor”; was Alderman of the Ward of

Bassishaw, and a resident in Cateaton Street. As we have seen, he was

made Sheriff in 1680 with Slingsby Bethel. The events connected with

his election were not calculated to make him a _persona grata_ with the

Court. He was not only a Whig but a Presbyterian. He was one of the

five Aldermen chosen for the defence of the civic liberties against

the _Quo Warranto_. In February 1683 Cornish, with Pilkington, Shute,

Bethel, Sir Thomas Player, the City Chamberlain, and Lord Grey of Wark,

were brought to trial for the disturbances in June of the preceding

year. They were all found guilty and all were fined; Cornish, for his

part, had to pay a fine of 1000 marks. He had already been tricked out

of his election to the office of Mayor by wholesale tampering with

the votes. At the time of the Rye House Conspiracy, one John Rumsay,

arrested on suspicion, offered to give evidence implicating Cornish. At

the time his offer was not accepted.

[Illustration: DUKE OF MONMOUTH (1649–1685)

From an engraving after Sir Peter Lely.]

Then James succeeded. Evidently he regarded Cornish as one of his most

dangerous enemies. He waited until the Monmouth rebellion gave him an

excuse. There had been an actual rebellion; if it could be proved that

Cornish had any hand in it, there would be a way of getting rid of him.

Monmouth was executed on July 15. Three months passed, during which

nothing was done to Cornish. This interval was employed, it is now

certain, in getting up a case against him; we cannot suppose that James

was ignorant of this plot—it was nothing less—to take the life of the

sturdy Whig. The man Rumsey found another man, a private enemy to

Cornish, named Goodenough, to join him in bearing witness which should

implicate Cornish in the Rye House Plot and show him to be a friend of

Monmouth. On Tuesday, the 13th of October, Cornish was arrested and

taken to Newgate. On the Saturday he learned for the first time that he

was in prison on a charge of high treason, and that he would be tried

on the Monday. The trial took place accordingly. It was marked by the

customary brow-beating and bullying. The man must have known that he

was doomed; the fact that two days only were allowed him to prepare

his case and bring forward his witnesses might have warned him what to

expect.

[Illustration: THE EXECUTION OF MONMOUTH, JULY 15, 1685

From a contemporary Dutch print. E. Gardner’s Collection.]

[4]“His attitude before the judges was calm and dignified. Before

pleading not guilty to the charge of having consented to aid and abet

the late Duke of Monmouth and others in their attempt on the life of

the late King (the Rye House Plot), he entered a protest against the

indecent haste with which he had been called upon to plead, and the

short time allowed him to prepare his case. He asked for further time,

but this the judges refused.

One of the chief witnesses for the Crown was Goodenough, who had

a personal spite against Cornish for his having objected to him

(Goodenough) serving as under-sheriff in 1680–81, the year when Bethel

and Cornish were sheriffs. Goodenough had risked his neck in Monmouth’s

late rebellion, but he had succeeded in obtaining a pardon by promises

of valuable information against others. With the King’s pardon in his

pocket he unblushingly declared before the judges that he, as well as

Cornish and some others, had determined upon a general rising in the

city at the time of the Rye House Plot. ‘We designed,’ said he, ‘to

divide it (_i.e._ the city) into twenty parts, and out of each part to

raise five hundred men, if it might be done, to make an insurrection.’

The Tower was to be seized and the guard expelled.

Cornish had been afforded no opportunity for instructing counsel in

his defence. He was therefore obliged to act as his own counsel,

with the result usual in such cases. He rested his main defence upon

the improbability of his having acted as the prosecution endeavoured

to make out. This he so persistently urged that the judges lost

patience. Improbability was not enough, they declared; let him call

his witnesses. When, however, Cornish desired an adjournment, in

order that he might bring a witness up from Lancashire, his request

was refused. His chief witness he omitted to call until after the

Lord Chief Justice had summed up. This man was a vintner of the city,

named Shephard, at whose house Cornish was charged with having met and

held consultation with Monmouth and the rest of the conspirators. The

Bench after some demur assented to the prisoner’s earnest prayer that

Shephard’s evidence might be taken. He showed that he had been in the

habit of having commercial transactions with Cornish and was at that

moment in his debt; that on the occasion in question Cornish had come

to his house, but whether he came to speak with the Duke of Monmouth

or not the witness could not say for certain; that he only remained a

few minutes, and that no paper or declaration (on which so much stress

had been laid) in connection with the conspiracy was read in Cornish’s

presence; that in fact Cornish was not considered at the time as being

in the plot. Such evidence, if not conclusive, ought to have gone far

towards obtaining a verdict of acquittal for the prisoner. This was not

the case, however. The jury, after a brief consultation, brought in a

verdict of guilty, and Cornish had to submit to the indignity of being

tied—like a dangerous criminal—whilst sentence of death was passed upon

him and three others who had been tried at the same time.

The prisoner was allowed but three clear days before he was hanged at

the corner of King Street and Cheapside, within sight of the Guildhall,

which he had so often frequented as an Alderman of the City, and on

which his head was afterwards placed. He met his end with courage and

with many pious expressions, but to the last maintained his innocence

with such vehemence that his enemies gave out that he had died in a fit

of fury.”

It is pleasing to add that four years later an Act of Parliament was

passed reversing the attainder of Cornish. It is also pleasing to think

that the blood of this innocent man, like the blood of the martyrs, was

remembered by his fellow-citizens, that it strengthened the side of

freedom and accelerated the fall of James.

On the same day the people of London had a choice between two

spectacles: that of Henry Cornish’s hanging, which was calculated to

make every citizen thoughtful; or that of the burning of Elizabeth

Gaunt at Tyburn—an act of brutal wickedness which ought to have made

every citizen mad with indignation. Elizabeth Gaunt was a woman of

great piety and charity; she visited the prisoners in the gaols; she

relieved the sick; she fed the poor; she helped all who were afflicted,

or in want, or in danger. Among others she helped a man named Burton,

who was an outlaw, to escape. For this she was actually burned alive!

The wretched man, Burton, turned King’s evidence and informed against

his benefactress. One feels that it would be a moral lesson if we could

ascertain the after-lives of Messrs. Rumsey, Goodenough, and Burton.

The unfortunate gentlewoman behaved with fortitude, arranging with her

own hands the straw around her so that she might the more quickly die.

To us it seems incredible that judges should pass such sentences or

should have such cases as those of Henry Cornish and Elizabeth Gaunt

brought before them. As for the effect produced by these executions,

they might, and no doubt did, terrify for a short time, but it was a

terror which led to exasperation.

We must remember that the temper of the City during the whole of the

seventeenth century was profoundly hostile to the Catholics. The

Gunpowder Plot; the Romish leanings of Laud; the Fire of London; the

so-called Romanist plots; the Protestant literature of the period;

the terrible stories of the Spanish Inquisition; everything conspired

to keep alive the hatred and suspicion of the Catholic Church. And

an event which happened in October 1685 taught the people, who were

ripe for such a lesson, what was to be expected of a Roman Catholic

Government.

From time to time London has been enriched by the arrival of

foreigners—Danes, Normans, Flemings, Italians, Palatines—who have

brought with them new industries, and have settled down among the

people, becoming English in the next generation. The most important

of these immigrations was that of 1685, which came over here from

France in consequence of the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, under

which the Protestants of France had enjoyed the freedom of worshipping

according to their own religion. A great many of them—probably about

60,000—came to this country, bringing with them what money they had,

amounting, as was estimated, to £3,000,000. Among them were artificers

of various kinds, especially silk-weavers, gold and silversmiths,

watchmakers and carvers.

These refugees came over just before the death of Charles the Second;

they were received with warm welcome; collections were made for them.

There can be no doubt that the presence of these victims to Catholic

bigotry largely stimulated the feeling against Catholicism which two

or three years later ended in the expulsion of James. They were always

in evidence. “See,” they said, “we are Protestants like yourselves;

we have been driven from our own country for no other crime but our

religion. What will happen to you when your King has had his own way

and turned this country again to the Roman Catholic faith?” This was a

question which was asked by everybody, and answered by every man and

woman, however mean and illiterate, by one word.

[Illustration: JAMES II. (1633–1701)]

With all these facts before him, in the face of feeling so strong

that it seems impossible that he could fail to understand it, James

persisted in his purpose. Perhaps he relied on assurances of support

from the Catholic gentry; perhaps he thought of using Irish troops;

perhaps he even looked forward to assistance from Louis; perhaps he

counted on Roman Catholic officers carrying with them the army. However

this may be, James resolved that there should be no mistake about his

intentions. The laws against the Catholics were disregarded. Roman

Catholic chapels were openly built and the Romish services were openly

performed in them; there were tumults in the City; the mob would have

no wooden gods and tore down the crucifix; they put up a cross and

mocked it; they set upon the priests and ill-treated them; they would

not believe that the Mayor really wished them to disperse. The trained

bands actually refused to disperse the crowd while they were engaged on

such pious work. Then James took a step which at first sight appears

clever; it was really most unwise. He issued the famous Declaration of

Indulgence which suspended all laws against Catholics and Dissenters

alike. The Church of England, as he was going to find, was stronger

than Roman Catholics and Dissenters put together. Indeed, many of the

Dissenters very clearly understood that the Declaration was simply a

measure of relief for the Catholics.

James next took up his late brother’s plan, which was to gain over the

Corporations in the country; six Commissioners were sent round to turn

out all those persons who were in favour of the Test Act and the penal

laws. The companies of London were treated in this way, with the result

that some 900 persons were turned out of the Courts of Assistants. As

for the City itself, which, it must be understood, was still deprived

of its charter, Jeffreys was instructed to inform the Aldermen that

in future their Court should recommend to the Crown persons fit to be

Aldermen. Many of the Aldermen resigned rather than vote an address to

the King for this liberty, which was in reality another link in the

chain which kept the City in servitude. Recommending to the King is not

exactly the same thing as free election. However, they did recommend

and nominate persons to serve, but it was found extremely difficult to

get any one to accept office. No less than £8500 were paid in fines by

those who refused.

In a very short time the City offices were nearly all held by

Dissenters. A Dissenter was Lord Mayor, one Sir John Shorter, said to

be an Anabaptist. The installation of Sir John was accompanied by a

great dinner, to which every Alderman contributed £50; the King was

present, with the Queen and the Papal Nuncio. The City Companies had

turned out most of their Church of England members, and the Lord Mayor,

Sir John Shorter, “a very odd, ignorant person, a mechanic, I think,

and an Anabaptist” (Evelyn), openly attended a conventicle every Sunday.

Among those who accepted office was William Kiffin. He was a leading

Nonconformist in the City. Two of his grandsons, Benjamin and William

Hewling, had been executed by Jeffreys for their share in the Monmouth

rebellion. He was just seventy years of age, and had retired from

active business when the King sent for him and made him accept office

by telling him that if he refused he might be fined £20,000 or £30,000,

or anything that the judges pleased. So the old man accepted. His

account of the work entrusted to the Court of Aldermen is amazing. The

King used to send them lists of liverymen who were to be turned out of

their companies, with other lists of those to be put in. There were

seven hundred so discharged without any charge or accusation, and all

Protestants of the Church of England.

The winter of 1687–88 passed quietly; but there were messengers

secretly passing between London and Holland and the end was rapidly

approaching. The King received addresses from all quarters thanking

him for his Declaration of Indulgence; not only from Nonconformists

about the country, but from the newly reformed City Companies, of

whom, however, not all were found to join in the cry of gratitude.

It would seem, however, as if the absence of any rebellion, coupled

with the fact of their dutiful addresses, made James believe that he

had a clear majority in support of his Declaration of Indulgence. He

seems never to have understood the strength and the magnitude of the

Established Church, just as he certainly never understood the strength

and the extent of the popular hatred of his own Church. To the latter

form of ignorance we may ascribe James’s acts and their consequences.

He could not understand how the Catholic Church could be so deeply

hated. Himself the son of a Catholic; his second wife a Catholic; his

brother’s wife a Catholic; surrounded by Catholics in his own house,

he was in no way able to comprehend why the country hated and feared

his religion. In the same way the mediæval Jew could not understand

that he was loathed and hated. Why should he be? He was a man, like

the Christian, of similar body parts, and passions. He could never

understand it. Now that loathing has become a thing of the past, he

cannot yet understand it. So with James; he could not understand it.

[Illustration: THE SEVEN BISHOPS ON THE WAY TO THE TOWER

From a contemporary print. E. Gardner’s Collection.]

In the spring, therefore, of 1688 James, still unable to understand,

issued a Second Declaration of Indulgence. Another interesting and

dramatic spectacle was, in consequence of this mistake, provided by

James for his loving subjects of London. This was the carriage of the

Seven Bishops by water to the Tower. Their arrest was the King’s reply

to their petition praying that the clergy might not be compelled to

read the Second Declaration of Indulgence from the pulpit in the midst

of public service. Only a few of the London clergy obeyed the order;

one of them told the people that though he was ordered to read it, they

were not ordered to hear it, and so waited till the Church was empty

before he read it. In some churches the congregation, with one accord,

rose and left the church as soon as the clergyman began to read the

Declaration.

[Illustration:

1. The King.

2. The Prince of Denmark.

3, 4. The Archbishops of Canterbury and York.

5. The Speaker.

6. The Chancellor with the Great Seal.

7. The Bishops, twenty-five in number.

8. The Dukes and Peers.

9. The Members sitting on Woolsacks.

10. The Barons and Lords of the Kingdom.

11, 12. The Lawyers.

13. The Herald.

14. The Spectators.

PARLIAMENT IN THE REIGN OF JAMES II.

E. Gardner’s Collection.]

The objections of the Bishops are stated by Evelyn:—

“Not that they were averse to the publishing of it for want of due

tendernesse towards Dissenters, in relation to whom they should

be willing to come to such a temper as should be thought fit,

when that matter might be consider’d and settl’d in Parliament

and Convocation; but that, the Declaration being founded on

such a dispensing power as might at pleasure set aside all Laws

Ecclesiastical and Civil, it appear’d to them illegal, as it had

done to the Parliament in 1661 and 1672, and that it was a point of

such consequence that they could not so far make themselves parties

to it, as the reading of it in Church in time of divine service

amounted to.”

The Bishops were sent to the Tower for refusing to give bail, “as it

would have prejudiced their Peerage. The concern of the people,” says

Evelyn, “was wonderful, infinite crowds on their knees begging their

blessing and praying for them as they passed out of the barge along the

Tower wharf.”

That was on the 8th of June. On the 13th Evelyn visited four of the

Bishops in the Tower. On the 15th they were brought to Westminster,

where their indictment was read and they were called in to plead. They

were called upon to give bail, but they refused; in the end they were

dismissed on their own recognizances to appear that day fortnight.

[Illustration: JUDGE JEFFREYS (1648–1689)

From a print in the British Museum.]

On the 29th they appeared and the trial took place. It lasted from nine

in the morning until six in the evening. At that hour the jury, who had

been drawn from Middlesex, not from London, retired to consider their

verdict. They could not at first agree, and were locked up all night.

All were for acquittal except one. At last he, too, agreed with the

others.

“When this was heard,” says Evelyn, “there was great rejoicing: and

there was a lane of people from the King’s Bench to the waterside on

their knees, as the Bishops passed and repassed, to beg their blessing.

Bonfires were made that night and bells rung, which was taken very ill

at Court.”

It is pleasing to note that the Bishops not only refused to give bail,

but refused to pay any fees to the Lieutenant of the Tower.

It was during their short imprisonment that the Prince of Wales, the

Elder Pretender, was born, “which will cause disputes,” says Evelyn.

Well assured of the spirit in which he would be received, the Prince of

Orange made haste to prepare for his descent on England. In September

the news came that a fleet of sixty sail was in readiness. Then James

began to make concessions. The City should have its charter returned.

This was done. But the City was no more inclined to Catholicism than

before.

The rest we know; William landed on the 5th of November.

James sent for the Mayor and Aldermen, entrusted the care of the City

to them, and instructed them, should he fall in battle, to proclaim

the infant Prince of Wales successor to the Crown. He then set out for

the west, to meet the invader. His army deserted him, and he returned

to London, where there had been some riots and plundering of Roman

Catholic chapels. A fortnight later, the Queen and her child having

been got safely out of the country, James himself attempted to escape.

As soon as this fact was known, many of the Lords, spiritual and

temporal, met at the Guildhall and there drew up a declaration that

they would stand by the Prince of Orange in maintaining the religion,

the rights, and the liberties of the country. The declaration was

communicated to the Court of Aldermen, who called a Court of Common

Council, at which another address to the same effect was drawn up.

James, as we know, failed in his first attempt to escape, being stopped

by certain fisher folk at Feversham. Lord Winchilsea, for whom he sent,

persuaded him to return to London. He was received, we are told, with

the liveliest indications of joy, as if he had been the best Prince in

the world. Perhaps the historian mistook rejoicings over the capture

of a prisoner for those over the return of a well-beloved sovereign. A

London mob may be fickle, but there was absolutely no reason for such a

change of front as would justify a demonstration of joy. Rather must we

believe that every shout which went up meant that the King was in the

hands of his faithful subjects, and that the faithful subjects would be

able to give him the same trial, with the same termination of it, which

they gave to his father.

Another of those dramatic scenes which enlivened the City during this

reign was provided by the flight and capture of Judge Jeffreys.

The Judge, who had presided over the butcheries in the west of England,

who became the willing creature and tool of James in every illegal act,

was regarded all over the country with a hatred exceeding that which

any Englishman has achieved for a thousand years and more. No one knew

this better than himself. When, therefore, the power of his master

crumbled away he sought safety in flight.

Why he did not escape to France; whether his nerve failed him; whether

there was no time; whether there was no one he could trust, one knows

not. It is, however, certain that he was suffering from a cruel

disease, which caused him the greatest agonies and was partly the

cause of that roaring voice, those bullying tones, which made him the

terror of the Court and aggravated the agonies of punishment. I think

it not impossible that a severe attack of this disease prevented him

from moving till it was too late; he then assumed the disguise of a

sailor and took refuge in a humble tavern at Wapping. Here, however, he

was recognised as he looked out of a window, and was dragged out and

committed to prison, having been so roughly handled by the mob that

he died of the injuries he received. According to another account,

however, he drank to excess, and so killed himself. As for the King, he

was permitted to escape, the Prince of Orange doubtless feeling that

though he did not hesitate about taking his father-in-law’s place, he

did not desire his head.

[Illustration: _The Lord Chancellor taken disguised in Wapping_

— _Engraved for the Devils Broker_ —

THE ARREST OF JEFFREYS

From a satirical print in the British Museum.]

And so James vanished from the scene and a new king reigned. But

neither in the reign of William nor in that of any following sovereign

were there so many splendid sights and anxious moments as in that of

the unfortunate king whom we have learned to despise more profoundly

than any other sovereign who ever sat upon the sacred Coronation chair.

The events connecting London with the reign of James II. belong for

the most part to the history of the country. I have not thought it

necessary, therefore, to dwell at length upon them.

The following, on the condition of London after the abdication, is an

extract from the _English Courant and London Mercury_. It is quoted by

Malcolm (_Manners and Customs_, 1811):—

“No sooner was the King’s withdrawing known, but the mobile

consulted to wreak their vengeance on papists and popery: and

last night began with pulling down and burning the new-built

Mass-house near the arch, in Lincolns Inn Fields: thence they went

to Wild-house, the residence of the Spanish Ambassador, where they

ransackt, destroy’d and burnt all the ornamental and inside part

of the chappel, some cartloads of choice books, manuscript, etc.

And not content here, some villanous thieves and common rogues,

no doubt, that took this opportunity to mix with the youth, and

they plunder’d the Ambassador’s house of plate, jewels, mony,

rich goods, etc.: and also many other who had sent in there for

shelter their money, plate, etc.: among which, one gentlewoman

lost a trunk, in which was £800 in mony, and a great quantity of

plate. Thence they went to the Mass-house, at St. James’s, near

Smithfield, demolisht it quite; from thence to Blackfryers near the

Ditchside, where they destroy’d Mr. Henry Hill’s printing-house,

spoil’d his forms, letters, etc., and burnt 2 or 300 reams

of paper, printed and unprinted: thence to the Mass-house in

Bucklersbury and Lime-street, and there demolisht and burnt as

before: and this night they went to the Nuncio’s, and other places

at that end of the town; but finding the birds flown, and the

bills on the door, they drew off: thence they went into the City,

threatening to pull down all papists’ houses, particularly one in

Ivy Lane, and the market house upon Newgate Market, for no other

reason but that one Burdet, a papist, was one of the farmers of

the market; but by the prudence of the citizens and some of their

trained bands, they were got off without mischief doing anywhere.

Tuesday night last, and all Wednesday, the apprentices were busy in

pulling down the chappels, and spoiling the houses of papists: they

crying out the fire should not go out till the Prince of Orange

came to town. There were thousands of them on Wednesday at the

Spanish Ambassador’s, they not leaving any wainscot withinside the

house or chappel, taking away great quantities of plate, with much

money, household goods and writings, verifying the old proverb ‘All

fish that came to the net.’ The spoil of the house was very great,

divers papists having sent their goods in thither, as judging that

the securest place.

Then they went to the Lord Powis’s great house in Lincoln’s Inn

Fields, wherein was a guard, and a bill upon the door, ‘This house

is appointed for the Lord Delameer’s quarters:’ and some of the

company crying, ‘Let it alone, the Lord Powis was against the

Bishops going to the Tower,’ they offered no violence to it.

Afterwards they marched down the Strand with oranges upon their

sticks, crying for the Prince of Orange, and went to the Pope’s

Nuncio’s, but finding a bill upon the door, ‘This house is to be

let,’ they desisted. Lastly, they did some damage to the house of

the resident of the Duke of Tuscany, in the Haymarket, carrying

away some of his goods, when one Captain Douglas, coming thither

with a company of trained bands to suppress them, a soldier,

unadvisedly firing at the boys with ball, shot the Captain through

the back, of which he lyes languishing. They also went to the

houses of the French and other Ambassadors, but finding them

deserted and the landlords giving them money, they marched off.

On Thursday, an order of the Lords coming forth, warning all

persons to desist from pulling down any house, especially those of

the Ambassadors, upon penalty of the utmost severity of the law to

be inflicted on them: since which they have been very quiet.”

[Illustration: ENTRY OF THE PRINCE OF ORANGE INTO LONDON

E. Gardner’s Collection.]

CHAPTER VIII

WILLIAM THE THIRD

At the Coronation Banquet the Lord Mayor, the Aldermen, and the members

of the twelve principal companies attended as butler and assistants.

The City plate was also lent for the occasion. This was on the 11th of

April 1689. Since the Prince of Orange had entered London on December

18, 1688, when James fled, the country had been left without King or

Government. The “Convocation,” as it was called, met on January 22.

On the 28th the Commons declared the throne to be vacant, and on the

6th of February the House of Lords passed a similar resolution. A

Declaration of Rights was next drawn up condemning the unconstitutional

acts of James and offering the throne to William and Mary. After their

proclamation their Majesties made haste to convert the Convocation into

Parliament.

The reign of William presents few surprises or dramatic scenes so far

as the City of London is concerned. On the other hand, there was a

great deal done towards the strengthening and definition of the City

rights and liberties. The Stuart kings, who could learn nothing and

forget nothing, were gone, never to return; in future it would be

quite as impossible for the sovereign to rob London of her liberties

as to reign without a Parliament. Out of the arbitrary acts of the two

Charleses, the elder and the younger, out of the civil wars, out of the

expulsion of James, came to London the secure possession, henceforth

unquestioned, of her charters, just as to the three kingdoms came

constitutional government and a sovereign bound by the will of the

people. These were great gains; one who could realise the state of

the country even under the well-beloved despot Elizabeth, and compare

it with its condition under the Georges, might well acknowledge that

the gain was worth all the fighting and struggle, all the trials and

executions which had to be endured in achieving it.

Of the loyalty of the City throughout this reign there can be no

question. The address drawn up by the Lord Mayor and Sheriffs soon

after it began on the occasion of a discovery of a plot against the

King strikes a note which was maintained throughout:—

“And we most humbly beg leave to assure your Majesty that we will, as

far as our Power extends, oppose ourselves to, and suppress all designs

of that Nature; and will search after, disarm, seize, secure, and bring

to Justice all Persons concerned therein, or contributing thereto: And

we are unanimously, firmly, and unalterably resolved and determined to

stand by, defend, and maintain your Majesty, and your Government, with

the uttermost Hazard and Expence of our Lives and Estates, against all

Persons whatsoever, that shall conspire or attempt any Thing against

the same” (_Maitland_, i. p. 491).

The pageant on Lord Mayor’s Day was attended by the King and Queen,

who sat in the usual place reserved for them in Cheapside—the balcony

of St. Mary le Bow. After the pageant they dined with the Lord Mayor

at Guildhall. The pageant itself may be found briefly described in

Fairholt’s _Book of Pageants_. It will be seen by those who look up the

passage that we are indeed far from the pageants of Edward the Third or

Henry the Fifth.

It was natural that the first desire of the City should be to obtain

an Act of Parliament declaring the forfeiture of their charter to be

illegal. On March 8, 1689, the Grand Committee of Grievances reported

that the rights of the City of London in the election of Sheriffs were

invaded in the year 1682, and that the judgment given upon the _Quo

Warranto_ was illegal. The Act of Parliament by which the charters of

the City were formally declared is a lengthy document of very great

importance. An abridgment of this Act follows:—

“Whereas a Judgment was given in the Court of King’s-Bench, in or

about _Trinity-Term_, in the thirty-fifth Year of the Reign of the

late King Charles the Second, upon an Information, in the Nature of

a _Quo Warranto_, exhibited in the said Court against the Mayor and

Commonalty and Citizens of the City of London, That the liberty,

Privilege, and Franchise of the said Mayor, and Commonalty, and

Citizens, being a Body Politick and Corporate, should be seized

into the King’s hands as forfeited; And forasmuch as the said

Judgment, and the proceedings thereupon, is and were illegal

and arbitrary; and for that the restoring of the said Mayor and

Commonalty and Citizens to their antient Liberties, of which they

had been deprived, tends very much to the Peace and good Settlement

of this Kingdom.

2. Be it declared and enacted, ... That the said Judgment given

in the said Court of King’s Bench in the said Trinity Term, in

the thirty-fifth year of the reign of the said King Charles the

Second, or in any other Term; and all or every other Judgment for

the seizing into the late King’s Hands the Liberty, Privilege, or

Franchise of the Mayor, and Commonalty, and Citizens of the City of

London, is, shall be, and are hereby reversed, annulled, and made

void, to all Intents and Purposes whatsoever; and that Vacates be

entered upon the Rolls of the said Judgment, for the Vacating and

Reversal of the same accordingly.

3. And be it further declared and enacted, by the Authority

aforesaid, That the Mayor and Commonalty, and Citizens of the City

of London, shall and may for ever hereafter remain, continue,

and be, and prescribe to be a Body Corporate and Politick, in

_re, facto and nomine_, by the Name of Mayor and Commonalty, and

Citizens of the City of London, and by that Name, and all and every

other Name and Names of Incorporation, by which they at any Time

before the said Judgment were incorporated, to sue, plead, and be

impleaded, and to answer and be answered, etc.”

At the same time the City proceeded to lay down and define the rights

of the inhabitants in voting for Aldermen and Common Council men. The

following is the Act of Common Council:—

“It is hereby declared, That it is, and antiently hath been the

Right and Privilege of the Freemen of the said City only, being

Householders, paying Scot and bearing Lot, and of none other

whatsoever, in their several and respective Wards, from Time to

Time, as often as there was or should be occasion, to nominate

Aldermen, and elect Common Council men for the same respective

Wards. That all and every the Beadle and Beadles of the respective

Wards shall do, prepare, return, and deliver to the Aldermen at

their several and respective Courts of Wardmote, or to their

Deputies authorized to hold the same, one List of all and every

the Freeman Householders aforesaid, dwelling and residing within

the respective Wards, to which they are Beadles, and of no others,

apart and by themselves: And also one list of all and every other

Householders within the said respective Wards only, apart and by

themselves: To the intent that such Freemen Householders, may

nominate Aldermen, and elect their Common Councilmen: And they,

together with the other Householders, may chuse their Constables,

Scavengers, Inquest and Beadles.”

[Illustration: WILLIAM III. (1650–1702)

After an engraving of the painting by Sir Godfrey Kneller.]

So that those who were not Freemen of the City had no right to vote at

all. This limitation of the vote was confirmed in 1711, 1712, in 1714,

and by an Act of Parliament of 11 George I.

There were scares in the City, first after the defeat of the Dutch

fleet on June 30, 1691, by the French, when the latter were expected

to attempt a landing up the Thames; and next when a report was raised

that King James was at the head of a powerful French army. On both

occasions the City put on a bold front, called out and equipped 10,000

men, and invited the Queen to appoint officers. It will be remembered

that on the scare of the Spanish Armada, doubts were cast on the

efficiency of the London contingent because the men would only obey

their own officers, who were notoriously incompetent. Here we see a

change. The City now recognises the fact that an officer cannot be made

out of a merchant in a single day.

[Illustration: MARY II. (1662–1694)

After an engraving of the painting by Sir Godfrey Kneller.]

The City next had to go before Parliament in the humiliating position

of a trustee who has lost trust money. The case was this. It had long

been the custom of the City to take care of orphans, being children of

Freemen, their fortunes or portions being received by the Chamber and

administered for them. The Mayor now declared that this money had so

grievously diminished that they simply could not pay the orphans on

coming of age their own estates. Several reasons were alleged for this

loss: the stoppage of the Exchequer, Charles’s act of robbery; a large

part of the fund had been lent to the Exchequer; other sums had been

lost in various ways, and the City now found itself in debt to orphans

for £500,000, and £247,500 in other ways, the whole being far more than

it could pay. A committee was appointed to investigate the case, and on

their report an Act was passed, of which the following are the heads:—

“That towards settling a perpetual Fund for paying the yearly

Interest of four Pounds, for every hundred Pound due by the City to

their Creditors, all the Manors, Messuages, Lands, Markets, Fairs,

and other Hereditaments, Revenues and Income whatsoever, belonging

to the Mayor, Commonalty, and Citizens, in Possession or Reversion,

and all Improvements that shall be made thereof (excepting the

Estates and Possessions belonging to Christ’s, St. Bartholomew’s,

St. Thomas’s, Bridewell, Bethlehem, or any other of the City

Hospitals, and the Estates appropriated for the repair of London

Bridge), are for ever charged, from the twenty-fourth of June in

the present Year, for raising annually the sum of eight thousand

Pounds, clear of all Deductions.

2. That all the Profits arising from the several Aqueducts

belonging to the City be applied towards the Payment of the said

Interest.

3. Towards the Support of the said Fund, the Lord Mayor and Common

Council are impowered annually to raise the Sum of two Thousand

Pounds, by an equal Assessment upon the personal Estates of the

Citizens.

4. Towards the Support of the said Fund, be paid the annual Sum

of six hundred Pounds, being the Fine or Rent paid by certain

Persons for the Privilege of illuminating the Streets of the City

with Convex Lamps. This tended very much to the Dishonour of the

City, to make a pecuniary advantage of a publick Benefit; but the

same being removed, to the no small honour of the Gentlemen in the

present Direction of the City Affairs, I shall say no more on that

Head.

5. That every Apprentice, at the Time of his being bound, shall pay

towards the said Fund two shillings and six Pence.

6. That every Person, upon his being admitted a Freeman of the

City, shall pay towards the Support of the said Fund five Shillings.

7. That every Ton of Wine imported into the Port of London, shall

pay towards the support of the said Fund five Shillings.

8. That, towards the increase of the said Fund, all Coals imported

into the Port of London shall pay four Pence the Chaldron Metage

above what was formerly paid.

9. And, as a further Increase to the said Fund, all Coals imported

into the Port of London after the twenty-ninth of September,

Anno 1770, the Measurable to pay six Pence the Chaldron, and the

Weighable six Pence the Ton, for the term of Fifty Years. And to

the Intent that the said Fund may be perpetual, it is enacted,

That, after the Expiration of the said Term of fifty Years, when

the said six Pence per Cauldron and Ton upon Coals shall cease,

then all the Manors, Messuages, Lands, Tenements, Markets, Fairs,

and the Duties thereof, and other Hereditaments, Revenues and

Income whatsoever, belonging to the City either in Possession or

Reversion, shall stand charged with the yearly Sum of six thousand

Pounds, over and above the already named Sum of eight Thousand

Pounds per Ann.”

Dissensions over elections and the mode of elections, scares about

plots and the rumours of plots, rejoicings over victory, make up the

history of London during the next few years. The losses of the Turkey

merchants when, for want of a sufficient convoy, their ships were taken

or burned by the French, were a national disaster. The merchant fleet

was valued at many millions; the convoy forwarded the merchantmen

safely as far as the Land’s End, when it left them to a smaller convoy

of seventeen ships under Rooke. They found their way barred by the

French fleet; in the fight that followed some of the merchantmen

escaped, but the greater number were lost. “Never within the memory of

man,” Macaulay says, “had there been in the City a day of more gloom

and agitation than that on which the news of the encounter arrived.

Money-lenders, an eye-witness said, went away from the Exchange as pale

as if they had received sentence of death.” The Queen expressed her

sorrow and sympathy and promised an inquiry. The probable cause of the

desertion of the merchantmen by the main convoy was that it was not

safe to leave the Channel unguarded so long.

Everybody who studies London possesses among his collection pictures of

the street cries. These drawings generally belong to the later years

of the eighteenth century or the beginning of the nineteenth. They

establish the fact that the streets were filled with a never-ending

procession of men and women with baskets, carts, wheel-barrows, trays,

boxes, all bawling their wares at the top of the voice. You may look

into the shop now called an “Oilman’s”; nearly all the things he sells

were formerly vended in the street. The conversion of the wheel-barrow

and the tray into the shop would prove a chapter in the history of

London trade.

It is therefore interesting to learn that these hawkers and pedlars had

already, at the end of the seventeenth century, increased so greatly

as to become a nuisance to the Citizens. The Common Council proceeded

against them with an Act providing that

“No Person should presume to sell any Goods, or Merchandize,

in any Street, Lane, Passage, Tavern, Inn, Ale-house, or other

Publick Place within the City or Liberties thereof, other than in

open Markets and Fairs, upon the Penalty of forty Shillings for

every such Offence. And, for the more effectual Preventing such

Practices, all Citizens buying Goods of such Persons to forfeit the

like Sum of forty Shillings for every such Offence. And, as farther

Discouragement to all Hawkers and Pedlars, every Citizen that

should permit or suffer such Persons to expose to Sale any Goods

or Merchandize in his, her, or their Houses, should for every such

Offence likewise forfeit the Sum of forty Shillings” (_Maitland_,

i. p. 479).

At the same time an Act of Parliament imposed a tax upon them. The

hawker or pedlar played an important part in the country life from an

early period. He it was who circulated among the villages, and from

farm to farm, the things for which in the country there existed no

shops. Autolycus belongs to all ages, and in all ages he is a jovial,

sharp, ready-witted rascal who will pass off his damaged goods for

new, will buy cheap and sell dear. The hawkers escaped legislation

in mediæval England, and are first noticed in a statute of Edward

VI., in which “they are treated in a very contemptuous manner, being

described as more ‘hurtful than necessary to the commonwealth.’ But

the case of pedlars was not seriously taken in hand before the reign

of William III., who put a tax upon them and, ominously enough, bound

them to certify commissioners for transportation how they travelled and

traded.”

We have seen how the Franciscans became pedlars,

“Thai dele with purses, pynnes and knyves,

With girdles, gloves for wenches, and wyves.”

The hawker of London was not exactly the same as the hawker of the

country. In the first place, it is evident that the City disliked his

setting up a stall outside the markets or the streets where special

things were sold; the companies still exercised the power of regulating

trade; there was still the old jealousy which would not allow one

trader to sell things belonging to another company. But the object of

hawkers was to sell everything wanted for the daily life; like the

Franciscan, he would not only sell mercery but also cutlery. This

kind of hawker was effectually banished from the City, even though

shopkeepers had now begun to mix up various companies and crafts in the

same counter. The London hawker was reduced to selling one thing, and

one thing only. In all the pictures of the street cries we find the

hawker engaged in crying one thing for sale; he offered to catch rats,

or sold sand, small coal, boot laces, door-mats, baskets, sausages, and

so on, whatever was wanted for everyday use and could not be found in

the shops.

[Illustration: “Rats or Mice to kill”

“Sausages”

LONDON STREET CRIES

From contemporary prints in British Museum.]

The hawkers of 1695, since they could not set up stalls or sell in

the streets, tried to force an entrance into the markets. Upon which

the Council laid down the law that the markets were not to be used as

a place of sale for goods sold in the shops or warehouses of Freemen

of the City. This important Act, which continued in force until the

nineteenth century, should be quoted:—

“Whereas by the Laws, Customs, and antient Usages of the City of

London, confirmed by Parliament, every shop and warehouse within

the said City, and Liberties of the same, having open shew into any

Streets and Lanes thereof, have, Time-out-of-Mind, been known and

accustomed to be, and in very deed is an open and Publick Market

Place for Persons free of the said City, for every Day of the Week,

except Sundays, for Shew and Sale of Wares and Merchandizes, within

the said City and Liberties thereof:

And whereas all other publick Markets within this City, and the

Liberties of the same, that is to say, Leadenhall-Market, the

Green-Yard or Herb-Market, Stocks-Market, Honey-Lane-Market,

Newgate-Market, and all other such like Markets, were and are

appointed and ordained, by the Laws and Constitutions of this City,

to be held and used upon particular and certain Days only in the

Week, and on certain Hours of such Days, as open Markets for all

Foreigners and Freemen and Women to use and resort unto for Sale

of Flesh, Fish, Butter, Cheese, Eggs, Fruit, Herbs, Roots, and

such like Victuals and Food, for the Support and Sustenance of

the Citizens and other Inhabitants of the said City and Liberties

of the same; and were not appointed for any other Use or Purpose

whatsoever, save for the Sale of Raw Hides, Tanned Leather, Tallow

and Wool, as appears by the Laws and Orders of the Court of

Aldermen and Common Council, for regulating the same:

But nevertheless, for Want of due Encouragement, in the Execution

thereof, several Hawkers, Pedlars, and Petty Chapmen and others,

contrary to the said Constitution and proper Use and Intention

of the said Markets, do now come to the said Markets, and there

sell and expose to Sale Mercery Wares, Lace, Linen, Grocery Wares,

Confectionery Wares, Drapery Wares, Millinery Wares, Glass and

Earthen Wares, Ironmongers’ Wares, Braziers’ Wares, Turners’ Wares,

Hosiers’ Wares, Cutlers’ Wares, Tin Wares, Toys, and other Wares

and Merchandizes, and such like Commodities, which, by the Usage

and Customs of this City ought only to be sold in the Shops and

Warehouses of the Freemen of this City, and Liberties of the same;

by Reason whereof the publick Markets and Market-places appointed

only for the sale of Victuals, Food, Herbs, Roots, Raw Hides,

Tanned Leather, Tallow and Wool, as before-mentioned, are become

incumbered and made inconvenient for the exposing the same to sale,

and the Prices of Victuals much enhanced thereby, and the Trades

used to be exercised in the Shops and Warehouses in the said City

and Liberties thereof are much hindered and decayed, to the great

Prejudice and Damage of the Citizens of the City:

Now, for the effectual preventing and suppressing the said

Mischiefs for the Time to come, be it enacted and ordained, by

the Right Honourable the Lord-Mayor, Aldermen, and Common Council

assembled, and it is hereby enacted by the said Court, and by the

Authority of the same, That from and after the twenty-fifth Day

of December, now next ensuing, no Person or Persons whatsoever,

whether free or not free of this City, shall sell or expose to

Sale in the said publick Markets called Leadenhall-Market, the

Green-Yard or Herb-Market, Stocks-Market, Honey-Lane-Market,

Newgate-Market, or in any other such like Market or Market-Grounds

thereunto belonging, within this City and Liberties of the same,

any Mercery Wares, Lace and Linen, Grocery or Confectionery Wares,

Ironmongers’ Wares, Braziers’ Wares, Hosiers’ Wares, Cutlers’

Wares, Tin Wares, Drapery Wares, Millinery Wares, Glass or Earthen

Wares, Toys, or any such like Commodities or Merchandizes, which

are sold in the open Shops or Warehouses of the Freemen of this

City, and Liberties thereof, upon Pain to forfeit and pay for

every such Offence (by him, her, or them committed or done to the

contrary), the Sum of three Pounds of lawful Money of England, to

be sued for and recovered, with reasonable Costs of Suit, by Action

or Actions of Debt, to be brought and prosecuted within fourteen

Days after such Offence or Offences shall be committed, in the name

of the Chamberlain of this City for the Time being, in the open

Court holden before the Lord-Mayor and Aldermen of the said City.

Which said Sum or Sums of Money, so forfeited and recovered from

Time to Time (the necessary Charges for the Recovery thereof

being first deducted), shall be to the Uses, and disposed of as

followeth: That is to say, one Moiety thereof to be paid and

delivered to the Treasurer of St. Thomas’s Hospital, to be employed

towards the Relief of the Poor, Sick and Maimed, provided for and

maintained in the said Hospital: And the other Moiety to him or

them that shall and doth prosecute and sue for the same (in Manner

as aforesaid) from Time to Time: Any Law, Custom or Usage contrary

thereof notwithstanding.”

In 1695 we hear of the first indications that the Jacobite party was

still strong in the City as elsewhere. It was on the 10th of June, the

birthday of the Prince of Wales, that a number of Jacobites assembled

in a tavern of Drury Lane, where they proceeded to drink the health of

the Prince. Thence they went out into the streets with drums and flags

and insisted upon everybody’s drinking the same toast. It was a time

when the people could not wait for the interference of the police,

because there were none; they were obliged to act for themselves,

and often acted in a more efficient manner than any police. On this

occasion they poured out into the streets, armed, and with one consent

set upon the Jacobites, put them to flight, took one prisoner, and

sacked the tavern. In the same year we read of another Jacobite

ebullition when, the King being abroad carrying on the war with France,

a man rode through the streets crying aloud that King William was

dead: an adventure which might have done great mischief. The King,

who was not dead after all, returned in October. Then occurred the

assassination plot. He was to be murdered after hunting in Richmond

Park. Fortunately the plot was discovered and the ringleaders arrested.

The trained bands were called out and an address of loyalty was drawn

up by the Corporation.

In 1697 the King returned to London on the Treaty of Ryswick. He

consented to make a public entry. It was made the occasion of a

procession of great magnificence, though falling very far short of the

old pageants.

The following notes from the letters of Richard Lapthorme to Richard

Coffin cover the greater part of King William’s reign:—

1688. Sir C. Pym, dining at a tavern in Old Fish Street, quarrelled

with a stranger—went out into the street, drew—Sir C.

died.

1688. July 21st. Fireworks on Thames cost £20,000. Present 100,000

people.

„ Judge Rotherham, Oxford Circuit, took with him Burgess N.

Comminuta; asked him to pass a short tract for

instructions and admonitions of criminals condemned.

„ Captain tossed the Mayor of Scarboro’ in blanket. Came up to

complain to King.

„ Nov. Two rich aldermen died, one Alderman Jefferys,

Tobacconist, £300,000, no children. Alderman Lacy very

rich, 1 daughter.

„ 11 Dec. “Mobile” pulling down mass-houses.

1688. 29th Dec. Lord Jefferies confined in chamber of one Bulle, a

warder. Pen, ink, and paper. Town church very full in

hopes of seeing him. Did not come.

1689. 20th Dec. Anniversary of King’s arrival in London.

Representation in effigies. Procession 1000 torches to

Temple Bar. All King James’s ministers: all hung on

gallows—bonfire—gallows fall in with pillory. Whipping

posts and everything.

1690. 20th Sep. People shut shops for monthly fast, but clergy will

not open church.... preached everywhere.

1690. 22nd Nov. Two ladies of fortune abducted.

„ 18th Dec. 22 condemned to be hanged, including the Golden

Farmer, a highwayman, and Sir John Jepson for abducting

Mrs. Coherton.

„ 28th Feb. In Duke Street, Covent Garden, a gentlewoman

bewitched. A voice speaks within her blasphemously—tho’

lips and teeth are shut; sometimes she is visibly lifted

up, chair and all, no one touching the chair.

1691. 11th Apr. Fire at Whitehall.

„ 31st May. New Diving bell.

„ 4th July. Fray between Alsateans and gentlemen of the Temple.

A fight; one of the sheriff’s posse killed; several

wounded. 70 Alsateans sent to the various prisons.

„ 25th July. Murder by one Bird.

„ 15th Aug. „ „ a young gentleman.

„ 22nd „ 2 grenadiers shot in Hyde Park for mutiny. Murders

nearly every day.

Dr. Clench sent for to a patient—strangled in coach.

1692. 18th Aug. Packet from Holland blew up—60 perished. 40 picked

up.

The Lord of Banbury fought with his brother-in-law, Capt.

Laurie, and killed him. Young, clerk, fought Graham,

clerk, and killed him. Lord Mohun killed Montfort the

player. Reprieves used to be sent after the prisoners on

their way to Tyburn. They were brought back on Sheriff’s

horse, yet after all executed.

Miracle of the lame F. Girl.

A long succession of cold and rainy seasons caused many bad harvests,

in so much that for some years there was a great dearth of corn, wheat

being sold at as high as three pounds eight shillings a quarter.

Considering the value of money then—it was almost twice as much as at

present—we may understand the cost of wheat bread. But the working

classes did never eat wheat bread except as a luxury. They lived on

oaten bread.

In the year 1699 occurred another scare about the wicked Papists. The

Mayor and Aldermen were summoned before the Privy Council, when the

King informed them that he had heard of a great increase of Papists

in the City; that they openly attended Mass-houses in spite of the

law; that he had commanded all Jesuits and Popish priests to leave

the country; that he had recalled all those English students who were

educated abroad, and that he looked to the Lord Mayor for vigilance

in searching out Papists, especially those who had arms concealed,

destroying Papistical books, shutting up Mass-houses and Catholic

schools, and administering the oaths to suspected Papists.

Almost the last act of the City of London in this reign was to send a

loyal address to the King when James the Second died and Louis XIV.

acknowledged as his successor the young Prince of Wales.

On the 8th of March 1702 William III. died.

CHAPTER IX

QUEEN ANNE

There is nothing picturesque and very little that is important in the

history of London during the reign of Queen Anne. An address to the new

Queen, a public reception of Her Majesty by the City, several days of

Thanksgiving for successes over the enemy, quarrels about elections,

High Church riots, mainly exhaust the annals of this reign.

[Illustration: ANNE (1665–1714)

After the portrait by J. Closterman.]

On Friday, November 26, 1703, the greatest hurricane of wind and

rain ever known in this country “o’er pale Britannia passed.” This

really belongs chronologically to the eighteenth century, and has

been described in that volume, but some reference to it here is also

necessary. It began about seven o’clock in the evening, and raged all

night long. It overturned houses, uprooted trees, blew down stacks

of chimneys, rolled up the lead on the roofs of churches, overthrew

walls, and tore off tiles, which it blew about like snowflakes. The

streets were covered with brickbats, broken signs, tiles, bulks, and

pent-houses; the houses in the City at daybreak looked like skeletons,

being stripped of their roofs, with their windows blown in or out;

the people destroyed were said, and believed, to number thousands;

all business was suspended while the houses were made once more

weather-proof; the price of tiles rose from a guinea to six pounds a

thousand; at sea twelve men-of-war were destroyed with 1800 men on

board, and the whole of the shipping in the Pool except four vessels

were driven from their moorings to beat against each other and to

founder off Limehouse.

The Common Council in 1704 considered the condition of the night watch.

They ordered that 583 men, strong and able-bodied, should watch all

night, divided among the respective wards. When we read that for the

small precinct of Blackfriars alone six men were ordered to patrol

the streets all night, that for Monkwell Street alone two men were to

walk up and down all night, one wonders at the stories of midnight

violence, burglary, and robbery belonging to the eighteenth century.

What were those able-bodied men doing? It is another illustration of

the difference between a strong law and a strong executive.

The Union of England and Scotland being at last happily accomplished,

the Queen was carried to St. Paul’s in a solemn procession for a

Thanksgiving service.

In 1709 arrived in London a body of helpless and destitute people from

the Palatinate, which had been devastated by the French; there were

nearly 12,000 of them. At first they were maintained by charity, over

£22,000 being subscribed for their immediate necessities. They were

then settled in various places; about 3000 were sent to Ireland, to

each of the provinces of North and South Carolina about 600, and to

the Province of New York about 3500. This settlement was made by a

Committee appointed by the Queen. It consisted of the Great Officers

of State, many of the nobility, the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of the

City and other persons of distinction, in number 121. These Trustees,

as they were called, met every afternoon in the week at four o’clock,

either at Whitehall or at the Guildhall Council Chamber. There were not

wanting malcontents who thought that the country had paupers enough of

its own without importing others. The example of the Huguenots, whose

reception in this country brought new industries and increased wealth,

might have taught a lesson, but it did not. Perhaps the double example

of the welcome given to the Huguenots first and the Palatinates next

may serve for another lesson at the present moment when the immigration

of Polish and Russian Jews by the thousand terrifies some of us.

[Illustration: THANKSGIVING SERVICE IN ST. PAUL’S

From Pennant’s _London_, in the British Museum.]

During the whole of this reign, and in that of its successor, party

feeling ran high with High Churchmen and Moderates, including

Dissenters.

In the autumn of the year 1709 two sermons were preached, by one

Henry Sacheverell, D.D., which produced consequences not often due

to the pulpit. The preacher himself has been represented by those of

the opposite side as an obscure divine, of bad moral character, of no

learning, of no eloquence, and of boundless impudence. This description

of the famous Doctor must be taken with a very large deduction for the

personal equation. Henry Sacheverell was the son of a clergyman, Rector

of Marlborough, Wilts, and the grandson of a strong Presbyterian. He

was entered at Magdalen College, Oxford, where he had Addison for his

fellow-student and his friend. Certain Latin verses of his are inserted

in the _Musæ Anglicanæ_, and certain English verses of his may be found

in Nichol’s Collection. He was born in 1672, was Master of Arts in

1696, and Doctor of Divinity in 1708. He lectured or took pupils at

Oxford for a few years, and then became successively vicar of a country

parish and Chaplain of St. Saviour’s, Southwark. In August 1709 he

delivered a sermon at the Derby Assizes, in which he maintained the

doctrine, which many Oxford men then held, of passive obedience. To us

the doctrine appears too ridiculous to need refutation; to the Tories

and High Churchmen of that time it was a very serious position indeed,

and one which was maintained by the support of Scripture. On November

the 5th of the same year he was invited to preach before the Mayor

and Corporation at St. Paul’s Cathedral. His sermon on this day was

to the same effect. He took for his text the words “Perils from false

brethren.” He asserted in the strongest terms the doctrines of passive

obedience and non-resistance; he spoke of the Revolution as a crime

never to be forgiven, and he called the Bishops perfidious prelates and

false sons of the Church because they approved of toleration. It was

customary for the Mayor to command the printing of any sermon preached

before the Corporation. But in this case the Mayor did not make the

usual order, the reason being that many of the Aldermen and Common

Council were alarmed at the extreme views advanced.

Let us understand that if this man had been the impudent, arrogant,

self-seeking quack which some histories represent him, it is quite

unlikely that the Mayor would have invited him to preach. Vain, carried

away by his sudden popularity, he may have been, but he was eloquent,

he was scholarly, and he undoubtedly possessed the power of moving his

audience. Other divines on the High Church side had raged against the

Revolution but to no purpose; there is talk of a certain Higgins who is

said to have made loud outcries against the condition of the Church and

the general wickedness. Yet no one heeded Higgins. But Sacheverell they

did heed.

His sermons, both that of Derby and that of St. Paul’s, were published.

The Tories ran after them eagerly, cried them up, ordered everybody

to buy them, with the result that 40,000 copies were sold throughout

the kingdom. The number, to us who are accustomed to see popular

papers sold by millions, does not seem large, but think what it really

meant at that time; it meant about two copies for every parish in the

kingdom. In the town parishes the pamphlet was handed about from one to

the other. Forty thousand copies of a sermon represent ten times that

number of readers; it means the whole nation moved and agitated. All

who could read did read these sermons; all who could not listened to

the discussions on them.

They were considered by the Council. All were of the opinion that

the preacher ought to be prosecuted; there were differences as to

the method and as to the court by which he should be tried. It was

finally resolved that he should be impeached before the two Houses of

Parliament.

There were delays before the impeachment could be carried out. Meantime

the High Church party and the clergy in general were actively engaged

in proclaiming that the Church was in danger, and in inflaming the

minds of the people against the Dissenters. And then occurred one of

those strange tumults in which the lowest classes in London have risen

up, from time to time, in favour of religion and morality, as if they

understood in the least what these words mean. The ’prentices waging

war against disorderly houses, the craftsmen destroying the Savoy in

defence of their Bishop, the mob tearing down Mass-houses, the mob

throwing up their hats for Sacheverell, the mob following Lord George

Gordon—all these are risings of the same kind. Other reasons are

assigned in each case; the one and only reason, apart from the general

love of a fight, which lies always in the heart of the Londoner, was a

blind desire for truth and justice. Who were the Dissenters? They were

Puritans; they were the people, who, when they had the power, forbade

the old sports, and persecuted those who would still play them; they

were the masters who commanded the way of their people in matters of

religion as in matters of politics; they had turned merry London into

morose London. It is generally believed that the common people did not

go to church, and therefore had no love for the church. This is most

untrue. The City was still full of the craftsmen; all those who lived

in the City went to church. How many of those who lived outside the

walls, what proportion of those who were settled beyond the walls,

went to church one has no means of ascertaining. But within the walls

all the people went to church. So that when we hear that ’prentices,

butchers, chimney-sweepers, scavengers, fellowship porters, and the

like made up the mob which bawled in the streets the cry of “The Church

in danger,” we need only remark that respectable people never join a

mob and never bawl in the streets for any cause whatsoever. In a word,

there is every reason to believe the mob to have been filled with

an honest conviction that this cause was that of religion, pure and

undefiled.

On the 27th day of February, Dr. Sacheverell was brought to the bar

before the Lords and Commons in Westminster Hall. Immense importance

was attached to the case; the Queen was present, but privately. Seats

were arranged for the Commons and for the noble ladies who were here

in crowds; galleries were set up at the end of the hall for the people,

and a raised platform for the managers of the impeachment and for the

defendant. We need not follow the course of the trial. On the 23rd day

of March, more than three weeks after it began, the case ended. The

Doctor was ordered to abstain from preaching for three years. Meantime

the mob had been showing the sincerity of its conviction not only by

cheering the defendant every day as he went to the Hall or returned,

but by wrecking the Dissenting chapels. They broke into the Gate Street

Chapel, took out everything—pulpit, pews, Bibles, cushions, sconces—and

carried the whole into Lincoln’s Inn Fields, where they made a bonfire

of the things, shouting “High Church and Sacheverell!” In Blackfriars,

Clerkenwell, Long Acre, Shoe Lane, and Leather Lane they also wrecked

the chapels. The rioters were dispersed by a detachment of Guards

without any bloodshed.

[Illustration: HENRY SACHEVERELL, D.D. (1674?–1724)]

The sentence passed upon the Doctor was considered as an acquittal.

Bonfires illuminated the City in the evening; drink flowed; every one

was made to drink the health of the Doctor. The subsequent career of

Sacheverell was tame. He made a kind of triumphal progress through

the country, though some of the towns refused to admit him. Oxford

received him as if he was a martyr, or a confessor at least. Finally,

he settled down at St. Andrew’s, Holborn, where he died at the age

of fifty. Such a man must needs make many enemies. Among them was

the Duchess of Marlborough. She calls him “a lewd, drunken, pampered

man,” and says that “he had not learning enough to speak or write true

English, but a heap of bombast, ill-connected words at command.” He

had a “haughty and insolent air” which helped him with the public. She

acknowledges, however, that he had “a good assurance, clean gloves,

white handkerchief, well managed, with other suitable accomplishments,

which moved the hearts of many at his appearance.” She says that his

speech in defence was written for him; that many of the “weaker” ladies

were more like mad or bewitched than like persons in their senses.

It might seem to us, who live so very far from passive obedience and

non-resistance, as if the occasion were enormously exaggerated. That,

however, was certainly not the case. The clergy were only too ready,

one and all, to join in the prosecution of the Nonconformists, in the

suppression of free thought, and in the corresponding doctrines of

non-resistance. It was most certainly desirable, above all things, if

the Protestant succession were to be secured, that these doctrines

should be placed before the people in their true light; whatever the

mob might bawl, whatever ecclesiastics might preach, the men of sense

and understanding must not only go on their way, but must show the

world the reason of their action. By the impeachment of a greatly

overrated preacher before both Houses of Parliament the Government

committed both Houses to the maintenance of religious toleration,

to the Protestant succession, and to the liberties of the country.

Considered from that point of view the case of this person must be

regarded as the most important State trial. The Doctor is reproached

with having his head turned by the honours bestowed upon him. We may

forgive him. Who would not have his head turned, first, by the enormous

success of a sermon; next, by being thought worthy of a State trial

in Westminster Hall; lastly, by receiving every evidence of popular

approval that a shouting, bawling mob can give, to say nothing of the

gifts, the letters, the assurances of great ladies and noble lords? Of

course his head was turned.

When the Sacheverell tumults were finished and over, the Lord Mayor

issued an order for the suppression of such assemblies of rude and

disorderly persons by the constables. We have already noted the

appearance of these documents and proclamations and their futile

character, because without sufficient force of police in reserve such

general orders are powerless.

The Statute for the erection of fifty new churches in the suburbs

of London indicates the growth of the City outside the walls. Fifty

churches would provide accommodation for fifty thousand people; or,

allowing for the infants, the aged, the infirm, and those who attended

service only once a day, probably a hundred thousand. At the present

day the parishes of Greater London frequently include eight thousand to

twenty thousand souls.

The last years of Queen Anne were distracted, as readers of history

know, by secret conferences, correspondence, and conspiracies to secure

the succession of the elder Pretender, James Francis. The reports and

whispers of these things kept London in a state of continual alarm

and ferment; rumours were constantly spreading around; it was said

that a large number of disaffected persons calling themselves Mohocks

and Hawkabites came out at night and scoured the streets, assaulting

and wounding harmless persons; it was also said that they flattened

the noses of those they seized, or slit them; that they cut off their

ears; that they stretched their mouths or gagged them; that they

cruelly pricked and stabbed them; that they set women on their heads,

with other terrible things. The citizens were afraid to go into the

streets at night for fear of being “mohocked.” A proclamation was

issued offering a reward of one hundred pounds for the conviction of

every such offender. But no one was apprehended, nor could any one be

found who had suffered from the cruelties of the so-called Mohocks and

Hawkabites. In fact it was a scare, baseless except for the occasional

acts of violence which took place in the streets. Another scare was

started about the same time. It was bruited abroad that the suburbs

and fields around London were haunted by a wretch called Whipping

Tom, whose practice it was to seize on all the women he met with and

flog them. No one asked how this could be done if the woman resisted

or ran away, because one would want both hands for the purpose, and

the fields—meaning Moor Fields—and suburbs were not so lonely that a

woman’s cries could not be heard. However, the women of London were put

into a state of great terror in consequence of this report, and for a

long time none would venture abroad without an escort.

At this time there were complaints that many shopkeepers employed

assistants who were not Freemen of the City. The Mayor and Common

Council passed a strict order that this practice was to cease, and that

the persons employed in the City in any capacity should be Freemen of

the City.

Queen Anne died on August 1, 1714.

RELIGION, GOVERNMENT, AND TRADE

CHAPTER I

RELIGION

Let us consider the religious side of London in the first half of the

seventeenth century. It was not so much the abolition of the Mass and

all that went with it, not so much the Smithfield fires and all that

they meant, that changed the mind of London, but the acquisition of

the Bible and the continual delight which the people found in reading

it, in hearing it read, in hearing it expounded, and in making out for

themselves the meaning of passages and the foundations of doctrine. The

Bible gave them histories more entrancing than any that had ever been

presented to them. They read of Abraham and of Jacob, of Joshua, of the

Strong Man, of the rash King’s vow, of Saul and David, of Hezekiah, of

Elijah and the prophets of Baal. They read the words of the Prophets

and applied them to the events and the kings and statesmen of their

own time; if they longed to praise their God, the Psalms of David gave

them words; if they were sad they found consolation in those poems;

for the conduct of life there was the Book of Proverbs; for example,

under every possible circumstance was a gallery of portraits, the like

of which could nowhere else be found. In the Gospel they read of a

Christ whose image rose always higher than they could reach; and in the

Epistles they gathered materials for the doctrines of a hundred sects.

With this book in their hands, containing history, poetry, morals,

example, admonition, the way of eternal life and, scattered about, the

materials for the Creed or Articles of Faith, without which it seemed

impossible to live, the old authority was gone, never to return so

long as that book remained in the hands and sank into the minds of the

people.

For forty years and more before the Stuarts came, the book had been

read and read again and again by every one; children had read it at

school; they had been catechised in it; they had been taught that it

contained in itself the whole of religion, so that what had been added

since was superfluous or superstitious.

The attitude of the people towards Catholicism at the beginning of

the seventeenth century was that of hatred far beyond the hatred of

fifty years before, because it was intensified by the terror of the

Papacy, which seemed recovering its old ground and quickly seizing on

one country after another. It seemed to those that could look beyond

the sea that in a short time there would be another, and a far more

dangerous attempt than that of the Spanish Armada, upon the religion

and the liberties of the country. The horrors of Catholic victory were

impressed upon them by the spectacle of the Huguenot fugitives and the

unfortunate Palatines, by stories of the Spanish Inquisition and its

ruthless tortures. The preachers—those “lecturers”—who were added to

the parish churches, fed this feeling of hatred and of terror. What,

then, was the indignation, what was the dismay, when the citizens of

London found the ecclesiastical authorities separating themselves

more and more from the reformed churches of Germany and Switzerland,

and, as they thought, advancing with no uncertain steps towards a

reconciliation with Rome!

[Illustration:

ST. PAUL’S CROSS

“An accurate delineation, the only Correct Vestige that remains of

this Ancient and Curious Object, as it appeared on Sunday the 26th

of March 1620; at which time, it was visited by King James the I.,

His Queen, and Charles, Prince of Wales; attended by the Archbishop

of Canterbury, Bishops, Officers of State, Nobility, Ladies, etc.

etc.; Who were received with great magnificence by Sir William

Cockaine, Lord Mayor of London; assisted by the Court of Aldermen,

Recorder, etc.; When a most excellent Sermon was preach’d from

a text purposely selected by his Majesty (Psalm cii. Verses 13,

14), by Dr. John King, Bishop of London; recommending the speedy

reparation of the Venerable Cathedral of St. Paul; which, with its

unsteepled Tower, and incumberances of Houses, etc. appear on the

back and side grounds.”

From a print engraved from an original picture in the possession of the

Society of Antiquaries, and published by Richard Wilkinson, London, 4th

June 1811.]

{Transcription:

HAGGAI CHAP:I·VE:2. THVS SPEAKETH THE LORD OF HOSTS THIS PEOPLE

SAIE, THE TYME IS NOT YET COME THAT THE LORDS HOVSE SHOVLD BE

BVILT. 3. THEN CAME THE WORD OF THE LORD BY HAGGAI THE PROPHETT

SAYING, 4. IS IT TYME FOR YOVRSELVES (O YEE) TO DWELL IN YOVR

SEILED HOVSES, & THIS HOVSE LYE WASTE:·}

IT IS WRITTEN: MY HOVSE IS THE HOVSE OF PRAYER: &C;·}

The early years of the seventeenth century saw the Puritan at his best.

That he should prefer and hold a narrow creed was inevitable; there

was no creed or sect possible which was not narrow. In this respect

the Puritan was in no way below the Catholic, the Episcopalian, the

Presbyterian, or the Brownist, or the Fifth Monarchy man, or any other

sectarian. He was not, however, necessarily a gloomy and austere

person. He might be a man of many accomplishments; Colonel Hutchinson

fenced, danced, and played the viol. But the Puritan was, above all,

conscious of his own individual responsibility. Between himself and

his God he wanted no priest; he would not acknowledge that there was

for any man the need of a priest, or for any priest the possession

of supernatural power; he wanted no ceremonies; he remembered that

symbolism, as all history proclaims aloud, leads infallibly to the

worship of the symbol. He would not allow so simple a thing as the

sign of the cross in baptism or the ring in marriage. The key-note of

Puritanism, the thing which made it strong and glorified it in the

persons of the best and noblest spirits, as Milton and Hutchinson, was

that the man was master of himself. Consider, therefore, the wrath and

the dismay when such a man saw himself, or thought himself deprived of

his liberty of thought, compelled to conformity with what he held to be

superstitions, dragged unwillingly and in chains along the road to Rome.

Among the lower ranks, the shopkeepers and the craftsmen of London,

the same spirit prevailed; but it led to extravagances. The Bible

was kept open on every counter; men discussed texts in every tavern;

the barbers quoted Paul while they shaved their customers. A certain

description of a citizen’s wife suggests the thought and discourse of a

London household of this time. “She was very loving and obedient to her

parents, kind to her husband, tender-hearted to her children, loving

all who were godly, much misliking the wicked and profane; ... very

ripe and perfect in all stories of the Bible; _likewise in all stories

of Martyrs_.” The martyrs were the Marian martyrs; this good woman

knew them all; there would be more martyrs, she knew full well, if the

Catholics came back. And she knew, and delighted in, all the stories of

the Bible; she was ripe in them and perfect in them. If the Catholics

came back, her Bible would be taken from her. Consider the dismay of

this poor woman when she was told that Laud was doing all he could to

bring them back!

Green points out, very forcibly and truly, how the claims of despotic

authority, of crown and church, jarred with all that was noblest in

the temper of the time. “These were everywhere reaching forward to the

conception of law. Bacon sought the law in material nature; Hooper

asserted the rule of law over the spiritual world. The temper of the

Puritan was eminently a temper of law. The diligence with which he

searched the Scriptures sprang from his earnestness to discover a

Divine Will, which, in all things, great or small, he might implicitly

obey. But this implicit obedience was reserved for the Divine Will

alone: for human ordinances derived their strength only from their

correspondence with the revealed law by God.” Against such a temper,

with such a stubborn people, fully persuaded that their eternal welfare

depended upon their adherence to their own convictions, Charles and

Laud were bound to fail.

[Illustration: WILLIAM LAUD (1573–1645)

Archbishop of Canterbury.]

It must be admitted that the better type of Puritan was apt to

degenerate and to give way to a narrower and a stricter school.

There appeared the Puritan who pulled down and cut in pieces the

Maypoles—those of St. Andrew Undershaft, and of Basing Lane, for

example. Also there appeared the Puritan who put down games and sports:—

“I’ve heard our fine refined clergy teach,

Of the commandments, that it is a breach

To play at any game for gain or coin;

’Tis theft, they say—men’s goods you do purloin;

For beasts or birds in combat for to fight,

Oh, ’tis not lawful, but a cruel sight.

One silly beast another to pursue

’Gainst nature is, and fearful to the view;

And man with man their activeness to try

Forbidden is—much harm doth come thereby;

Had we their faith to credit what they say

We must believe all sports are ta’en away;

Whereby, I see, instead of active things,

What harm the same unto our nation brings;

The pipe and pot are made the only prize

Which all our spriteful youth do exercise.’”

There appeared also the Puritan who objected to the study of Latin and

Greek as encouraging idolatry and pagan superstition. And the Puritan

who would have no Christmas festivities, who put down the custom of

plum porridge, and changed the name of Christmas pie to mince-pie,

which it is still called. The gloomy face of the Puritan belongs to

later developments, as do the texts worn on the sleeve, the lank hair,

and the hat without a band.

With such a temper in the people, against such leaders, Charles and

Laud began their campaign for the overthrow of civil and religious

liberty. It is easy to exclaim against a short-sighted policy, and

against the blindness of those who could not observe the signs of the

times. In the absence of newspapers and public meetings, how was a

statesman to understand the signs of the times? The King, like his

father, had not been brought up in the knowledge of English liberties

and their history. To this ignorance a great deal of the blundering,

both of James and of Charles, may be attributed. Laud, for his part,

was an ecclesiastic through and through. It was not for him to seek

out the opinions of the unlearned or of the dissentient. It was his

business to enforce the ecclesiastical law as he found it, and as he

designed to make it.

The number of London clergy afterwards ejected sufficiently proves the

support which he obtained from that class. It is, indeed, always safe

to expect support from the clergy whenever steps are taken to magnify

the ecclesiastical office or to advance the sacerdotal pretensions. As

it is in our time, so it was in the days of Laud.

The Archbishop ordered conformity with the ceremonies of the Prayer

Book. The surplice was enforced; the sign of the Cross in Baptism was

continued; the ring in marriage remained in use; kneeling, and not

sitting, at the administration of the Holy Communion became obligatory.

The Geneva Bible, the old favourite of the people, with its short and

pithy notes, was prohibited; those ministers who refused to conform

were ejected; the lectures, which in London had been mostly on the

Puritan side, were suppressed.

It became evident fifteen years later that the intolerance of Laud

was not so much a subject of complaint as the enforcement of ritual

and teaching abhorrent to the mind of Puritan, Presbyterian, and

Independent. In 1644 it was proved that intolerance belonged equally to

all sects. The possibility of allowing people differing in creeds to

live in peace was not as yet admitted; nor would it be admitted until

all alike, Anglican, Presbyterian, Independent, Quaker, Anabaptist,

Socinian, Roman Catholic, had each and all in turn felt and realised

that religion would mean continuous persecution, ejection, rebellion,

and suffering, unless a _modus vivendi_ were arrived at.

[Illustration: A TRIMMER

From a contemporary print in the British Museum.]

{Transcription:

A Trimers Character._

_Who Can in the Twinkling of an eye Transform himselfe .viz^t. to

act the patriot and Saint. With two Hearts, two Tongues, and two

Opinions for God or Baal like the Hedg-Hog’s Holes of refuge to

fly too when a Storme Aproches, or the Barnacle both flesh and

fish, Janus with two faces, or the Sea-gull that Swims as fish

and flyes as fowl that hath a Double devotion Scotch and English,

in one day’s duty. Half Surplice, and half Cloak both Priest and

Presbeter. by way of Caution, be not led— misled I meane, but

Mark these Monsters, who serve their own bellyes, and are onely

fleecers, not feeders.

He would be stil a Rebel if he durst,

Turn-Coat in every Age for Interest._}

Meantime those who would be intolerant in their turn, but as yet could

not, found the situation gloomy. They looked across the Atlantic and

began to emigrate by thousands; not, as is too often asserted, to find

across the ocean that freedom which they could not find here, but to

find the power of living under the creed that they accepted, and of

imposing it upon all who would live among them.

“The Land,” says Clarendon, “was full of pride and mutiny.” It seemed,

at one time, as if the best blood of the country was going across

the ocean. Hundreds of the clergy gave up their houses and went into

poverty because they would not turn a table into an altar, and because

they refused to take the least step which pointed in the direction of

Rome.

And persecution and public punishment of men like Leighton and Prynne

only had the effect of bringing the discontent of the people to the

point of exasperation.

[Illustration: EXECUTION OF WILLIAM LAUD, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY

(1645)]

{Transcription:

_S^t. Alexander Carew, S^t. John Hotham, Captin Hotham & the Arch

Bishop of Canterbury, beheaded on Towerhill for Treason against y^e

Parliament 1645._

_issue of blood in this more then miserable Kingdom; I shall

desire, that I may pray for the people too, as well as for my self:

O Lord, I beseech thee give grace of repentance to all people that

have a thirst for blood, but if they will not repent, then scatter

their devices so, and such as are or shall be contrary to the

glory of thy great name, the truth and sincerity of Religion, the

establishment of the King, and his posterity after him in their

just rights and priviledges, the honour and conservation of Parl.

in their ancient and just power, the preservation of this poor

Church in her truth, peace and patrimony and the settlement of this

distracted and distressed people, [un]der the ancient laws, and

in their native liberties; and when thou hast [don]e all this in

mercy for them, O Lord fill their hearts with thankfullness, [and]

with religious dutiful obedience to thee and thy Commandments all

[thei]r dayes: So Amen, Lord Jesus; and I beseech thee receive my

soul to [mer]cy. Our Father, &c._

The Bishop of Canterburies last prayer on the Scaffold.

_Lord I am comming as fast as I can, I know I must pass through the

[sha]dow of death before I can come to see thee, but it is but_

umbra mortis, _[a m]eere shadow of death, a little darkness upon

nature, but thou by thy me[ri]ts and passion hast broke through the

jaws of death; so, Lord, receive my Soul, and have mercy on me,

and bless this Kingdom with peace and plenty, and with brotherly

love and charity, that there may be not this effusion of Christian

blood amongst them, for Jesus Christ his sake, if it be thy will.

And when he said, Lord receive my soul, which was his designe, the

Executioner did his office._}

In the year 1633 appeared Prynne’s _Histrio Mastix_, a violent attack

on play-acting, dancing, and masques. In all these things the Queen

took great delight. Therefore the work was supposed to be directed

against her. A brutal sentence was inflicted upon Prynne, and was

duly carried out, and after pillory, branding on the forehead, having

his nose slit and his ears cut off, the wretched man was condemned

to be disbarred, to be deprived of his University degree, and to be

imprisoned for life.

The freedom of the press was of course attacked. Laud assumed a

censorship over all new books and over the sale or circulation of

old books. Among other books prohibited were Foxe’s _Book of Martyrs_

and Bishop Jewel’s _Works_. Prynne, and with him Dr. Bastwick, a

physician, and Henry Burton, a divine, all three being prisoners in

the Tower, were prosecuted in the Star Chamber for writing libellous

and schismatical books. They were sentenced to pay £5000 each; to

stand in pillory; to lose their ears, or, in Prynne’s case, to lose

what was left of his ears; to be branded and to be imprisoned in

Launceston, Lancaster, and Carnarvon. An immense multitude gathered to

see the sentence carried out; they “cried and howled terribly”; they

followed the prisoners with shouts of good wishes and groans for their

persecutors; they threw money into the coach in which Burton’s wife was

sitting. Laud complained afterwards that the prisoners were suffered to

speak to the people, and that notes were taken of their speeches and

circulated in the City. At Chester, on his way to Carnarvon, Prynne was

entertained by the Sheriff and a number of gentlemen, who refreshed him

with a good dinner, and gave him tapestry and carpets for his cell.

Let us turn to the other side of religious opinion. If the Bible,

and especially the Old Testament, furnished the popular side with

arguments in support of every doctrine they professed, the same

authority was called in for the maintenance and defence of the High

Church and Loyalist party. Laud and his friends were by no means

without Scriptural defence. For instance, the most rigid rule of

conduct advanced by the divines of Charles the Second’s reign was that

of passive obedience, together with the corollary that resistance

to the King’s authority was a mortal sin. This doctrine seems to us

absurd, we who inherit the training of two hundred years in the belief

that all power is conferred by the people and may be withdrawn by

the people. But, in fact, the doctrine was perfectly logical if one

admitted that the English monarchy was an Oriental despotism such as

that of Solomon or any other Eastern king. I have before me a sermon

preached on February 6, 1668, in Ripon Cathedral, by the Dean, in which

the doctrine is boldly advanced and upheld. The text is from 1 Kings

viii. 66, and relates how, after the great and solemn function of the

dedication with the blood of 22,000 oxen and 120,000 sheep—surely there

is here a superfluity of ciphers—and after a great feast, the people

went away blessing the King. One would think this a weak text for the

support of such a doctrine, but the learned Dean bolsters it up with

an abundance of instances and texts. Thus “St. Paul says that Kings

are, not by God’s sufferance but by his ordinance, and therefore, even

supposing them never so bad, they are not to be resisted. You may take

up the Buckles of Patience; but you must not take up Arms against them;

for Rebellion is such rank Poison to the Soul, that the least Scruple

of it is Damnable, the very intention of it in the Heart is Mortal.”

In our passive obedience we may, if times are bad, console ourselves

with the imitation of “Jeremiah in Prison; Daniel in the Lion’s Den;

Amos struck through the Temples; Zachariah murdered between the Porch

and the Altar; our Blessed Saviour living under Herod and Tiberius and

crucified under Pontius Pilate; His Disciples under Caligula, Claudius,

Nero, and Domitian; Christian Bishops, under Heathen Persecutors; none

of whom ever reviled their Princes or resisted them.” One might object

that in these cases resistance would have been useless. But he goes on,

“Who questioned Saul for slaying the Priests and revolting to Idolatry?

Who questioned Joram a Parricide and murderer of his nobles? Or Joash

for his Idolatry and slaying the High Priest? Did the Sanhedrim do

it? Who questioned Theodosius for murdering six Thousand innocent

Persons? Who questioned Constance, or Valeros, or Julian the Apostate?”

Again, one objects the people had not the power to question. Again,

“Mephibosheth said of David, ‘My Lord the King is an Angel of God. Do

therefore what is good in thine eyes.’”

“Did not God ordain Adam to rule over his wife without giving her or

her children any commission to limit his power? What was given to

him in his Person was also given to his Posterity; and the Paternal

Government continued Monarchical from him to the Flood, and after that

to the Confusion of Babel when Kingdoms were first erected and planted

over the face of the Earth? And so what right or Title, the People can

have ... to restrain the supremacy which was as untouched in Adam as

any act of his will (it being due to the Supreme Fatherhood) or from

what time it commenced, the Scripture nowhere tells us. Where is the

People’s charter extant in Nature or in Scripture, for invading the

Rights of the Crown? Or what authority can they have from either to

introduce their Devices of presiding over him whom God and Nature hath

set over them?”

This was the kind of preaching which was heard from a hundred pulpits

in the City of London as well as in country churches and cathedrals

during the whole reign of Charles II. and the beginning of his

successor’s short period of power. There can be no doubt that it

persuaded many, that the preachers themselves were in earnest, and that

there were few indeed among the congregation who were able to point to

the weakness of a doctrine which rested on an absurdity so great as the

parallel between the King of a free people whose liberties had slowly

developed from prehistoric customs and an Oriental despotism.

Let us note one or two points of custom and popular belief and practice

which should be taken into account when we consider the religious

spirit of the time.

Fasting, for instance, was still practised and enjoined by the Church,

as it is to this day. The Puritans, while they rebelled against the

observance of days, maintained the duty of occasional fast days. The

High Church party insisted vehemently on the duty of fasting, and the

Restoration brought back the usage of fasting as part of the Church

discipline. By this time, however, the poorer classes had lost the

habit of eating fish only on Fridays and in Lent, and it was impossible

to enforce the practice.

Other customs and beliefs, survivals of the old faith, remained.

Sanctuary, for example, although the ancient privileges had been

abolished, although a criminal could no longer take refuge in a

church, still continued under another form (see p. 170). That is

to say, certain places remained where Sheriffs’ officers could not

venture, where a writ could not be served, and where a rogue could

not be arrested. Among these places were the streets on the site of

Whitefriars: Ram Alley, Salisbury Court, Mitre Court, the Precinct of

the Savoy, Fulwood’s Rents in Holborn, and on the other side of the

river, Deadman’s Place, the Mint, and Montagu Close. These pretended

privileges were not abolished by law until the year 1697. Some of the

places, in spite of this abolition, preserved their immunity for a

time by the terror of their lawlessness and violence. The “humours” of

Alsatia have been immortalised by Scott, but it must be remembered that

there were many other places besides Whitefriars at that time equally

entitled to the privileges of sanctuary.

The abolition of Episcopacy was followed by a persecution of those of

the clergy who were known to sympathise with the Anglican forms. They

were accused of immorality or malignancy; they were haled before the

House, which deprived them of their livings and gave them to persons

of better principles. Of the sufferings of the London clergy, Walker’s

well-known work gives a full account. He sums up as follows:—

“Thus were about One Hundred and Ten of the London Clergy turned

out of their Livings (nor do I know whether the List be yet

compleat), above Forty of which were Doctors of Divinity, and most

of them Plunder’d of their Goods, and their Wives and Children

turned out of Doors. About twenty were imprisoned in London, and

in the Ships, and in the several Jayls and Castles in the Country;

upward of that Number fled to prevent the like Imprisonment.

About Twenty Two died soon after in remote Parts, in Prisons, and

with Grief; and about Forty Churches lay void, having no constant

Minister in them.

They were most, if not all, of them turned out in the Years 1642

and 1643. Some few more immediately by the House of Commons;

but most of them by the Committee of Religion, and that of

Plunder’d Ministers, and chiefly, as I conceive, by the latter:

The Resolutions of which Committee were in the beginning, if I

mistake not, mostly reported to the House: But when that Godly Work

increas’d upon their hands, a Power was lodg’d in the Committee, as

I take it, which made their Resolutions Final. I must here add that

a Learned and Eminent Person who liv’d through, and suffer’d under

those Times, gives this Character of the then London Clergy in

general: ‘That for a more Pious, Learn’d, and Laborious Ministry,

no People ever Enjoy’d it, even their enemies themselves being

Judges’” (John Walker, _Account of the Sufferings of the Clergy_,

1714, p. 180).

For a list of the London clergy ejected see Appendix II.

In June 1643 a council or company of one hundred and twenty divines,

called “Pious, godly, and judicious,” was summoned to meet at

Westminster to consider the new form of national church. With them

were joined thirty laymen, namely, ten Lords and twenty Commoners. The

Houses laid down rules for the form of the meetings and the subject

of the debates. Among the hundred and twenty was a certain proportion

of Episcopalians, who, however, refused to attend; the majority were

Presbyterians, anxious to establish the discipline and doctrine of

the foreign reformed churches; but there was also among them a small

body of Independents. The difference between the two parties was

very important. The former desired a church resembling that of the

old Established Church in a gradation of spiritual authorities in

presbyteries, classes, synods, and assemblies, giving to these bodies

the power of censure, punishment, deprivation, and excommunication.

The latter held that every congregation stood by itself, that there

should be no central authority, and that churches should be left free

to differ in doctrine.

The Council were unanimous in minor points; they removed organs; they

prohibited the surplice and the cope; they destroyed monuments of

idolatry, but they could not agree as to church government. Finally,

they agreed in the production of a Directory of public worship, which

introduced order into the service and regulated the administration of

the sacraments, the ceremony of marriage, the visitation of the sick,

and the burial of the dead.

On Friday, January 3, 1645, the Ordinance for the abolition of the

Book of Common Prayer, and for the establishment in its place of a new

Directory for the public worship of God, was passed:—

“In the Preamble it is set forth that the ‘Lords and Commons

assembled in Parliament, taking into serious consideration

the manifold inconveniences that have arisen by the Book of

Common-Prayer in this Kingdome, and resolving according to their

Covenant to reforme Religion according to the Word of God and

the example of the best Reformed Churches, have consulted with

the Reverend, Pious and Learned Divines, called together to

that purpose; And doe Judge it necessary that the said Book of

Common-Prayer be abolished, and the Directory for the Publike

Worship of God herein after mentioned, bee established and observed

in all the Churches within this Kingdome.”

“And that the Directory for publike Worship herein set forth shall

bee henceforth used, perused, and observed according to the true

intent and meaning of this Ordinance, in all Exercises of the

Publike Worship of God, in every Congregation, Church, Chappell,

and place of Publike Worship within this Kingdome of England, and

Dominion of Wales; Which Directory for the Publike Worship of God,

with the Preface thereof followeth” (_The Directory_, p. 4).

The same preamble ordered that in every church there should be kept a

register for the names of all who were baptized, married, or buried in

the churchyard.

The Directory may be condensed as follows:—

1. Orderly behaviour in Church without salutations, greetings, or

whispering.

2. Commencement with Prayer.

“In all reverence and Humility acknowledging the incomprehensible

Greatnesse and Majesty of the Lord (in whose presence they doe

then in a speciall manner appeare) and their owne vilenesse to

approach so neare him; with their utter inability of themselves, to

so great a work: And humbly beseeching him for pardon, Assistance,

and Acceptance in the whole service then to be performed; and for

a Blessing on that particular portion of his Word then to be read:

and all, in the Name and Mediation of the Lord Jesus Christ.”

3. After prayer reading of the scriptures; the length and the

portion chosen to be left to the Minister, with a recommendation to

read one chapter of the Old and one of the New at every meeting.

4. Expounding of the Scripture read to be performed after the

reading.

5. After the Reading, Public Prayer, the general heads of which are

set forth at length.

6. The Sermon.

Here follow instructions for the preacher.

7. After the sermon, another prayer.

8. The Prayer ended, let a Psalm be sung, if with conveniency it

may be done.

The rite of baptism is ordered; one notes that the sign of the Cross is

omitted.

The celebration of the Lord’s Supper is to take place after the sermon

and psalm. The communicants are to sit round a table covered with a

white cloth. Prayer is to be offered, in which it is to be specially

noted that the bread and wine remain bread and wine, but that by faith

the body and blood of Christ are taken by the communicant.

The “Sanctification of the Lord’s Day” assumes that it is the Sabbath,

and orders that no unnecessary work be carried on, and that the same

not spent in church is to be devoted to reading, meditation, and

catechising.

The marriage service is very short. There is to be a prayer with a

declaration of Scripture on the subject, after which the man and the

woman are to take hands and take each other for wife and husband:—

“Concerning the Burial of the Dead,” the _Directory_ says, “and

because the customes of kneeling down, and praying by, or towards

the dead Corps, and other such usages, in the place where it lies,

before it be carried to Buriall, are Superstitious: and for that,

praying, reading, and singing both in going to, and at the Grave,

have been grosly abused, are no way beneficiall to the dead, and

have proved many ways hurtfull to the living; therefore let all

such things be laid aside.”

On days of fasting there is to be total abstinence from all kinds of

food and from all kinds of work.

As for singing of Psalms:—

“The voice is to be tunably and gravely ordered: but the chief care

must be, to sing with understanding, and with Grace in the heart,

making melody unto the Lord.”

“That the whole Congregation may joyne herein, every one that can

read is to have a Psalme book, and all others not disabled by

age, or otherwise, are to be exhorted to learn to read. But for

the present, where many in the Congregation cannot read, it is

convenient that the Minister, or some other fit person appointed

by him and the other Ruling Officers, doe read the Psalme, line by

line, before the singing thereof” (_Directory_, p. 43).

On the 23rd of August following, another ordinance was passed for the

taking away of the Book of Common Prayer from all churches and chapels

in the kingdom. It was also ordered that the knights and burgesses of

the counties should send copies of the Directory, bound in leather, to

the constables and other officers of every parish in the kingdom, and

that within one week after receiving the books, the constables should

hand the books to the minister of the parish.

Pains and penalties for disobedience to these orders conclude the

Ordinance.

There are abundant materials for showing the violence of the passions

excited in London by the religious controversy of the time. We see

the soldiers on guard at Lambeth breaking into the church in time of

service, tearing the Prayer Book to pieces, stripping the clergyman of

his surplice, and desecrating the altar, until the Thames watermen come

to the assistance of the people and there is a fight in the body of the

church. We see a party of horse riding through the streets, four of

them attired in surplices, tearing the Book of Common Prayer in pieces,

leaf by leaf, with gestures unseemly. We find the clergy accused of the

most infamous crimes—“common drunkenness, looseness of life, adultery,”

and worse. We find some of the people in church sitting with their hats

on, and some with their hats off, and riots in consequence. We hear of

fanatics preaching the wildest doctrines and forming the most wonderful

sects. There is neither tolerance, nor charity, nor patience. There is

no authority; there is no respect for learning; every one, in every

station, interprets Scripture in blind confidence that he is fully

equal to the task of framing a bran-new constitution for a bran-new

sect. And with it all, a power almost pathetic, of sitting out the

longest sermons. On one occasion two ministers, one after the other,

engaged the attention of the House of Commons for seven long hours. The

people presently grew weary of the incessant wranglings over doctrine;

sane persons began to understand that the task of making ignorant

men and women agree in matters of creed was hopeless; it became

understood that divergence of opinion would be no more tolerated by

Independents than it was by Presbyterians; at this point of weariness

it was extremely fortunate for the country that the reaction restored

them to the Church of England instead of the Church of Rome. It was

wonderful how the great mass of the people sank back contentedly into

their old form of faith, relieved to find at last that they might leave

the dogmas of religion to divines and scholars and be free themselves

to illustrate in their private lives the virtues of religion by the

exercise of faith, hope, and charity, which, for twenty years and more,

seemed to have deserted the City of London.

A single example of the religious dissensions of the time will

doubtless stand for many more. I have before me a pamphlet written by

the Rev. J. Dodd, which originally appeared in the _English Historical

Review_ (Spottiswoode, 1895), on the troubles of St. Botolph, Aldgate,

during this period. To quote Mr. Dodd’s own words, “it is a fairly

complete picture of the state of discord, and probably had many a

parallel throughout England.”

In 1642 the then Vicar, a follower of Laud, one Thomas Swadlin, was

deprived of his living and sent to Newgate. After his departure the

living was held by a succession of obscure preachers, probably of

Puritanic views, till 1654, when Laurence Wise, the last of them,

either died or resigned. In August of that year, by popular election,

one John Mackarness, a clergyman in Anglican orders, was appointed.

Cromwell, however, intervened, and a Presbyterian, Zachary Crofton, was

appointed in his place. Crofton was an Irishman who had been in arms

against the King; he was then pastor, first of Newcastle-under-Lyne,

next of Winbury, in Cheshire. He refused to take the oath to the

Government of 1649 “without King or House of Lords,” and lost his

living. In London he obtained the church of St. James’s, Garlickhithe.

Here he made himself known as a hot-headed controversialist, and by

no means a friend of Cromwell, who, however, nominated him to St.

Botolph’s.

Crofton went, therefore, to St. Botolph’s, and found a congenial field

for a fighting man. He was himself a Presbyterian; the afternoon

lecturer was one John Simpson, who had also, like Crofton, been in the

Army, and was now an Independent and an Anabaptist. Crofton alienated

some of the former sect by attempting to revive “disception” in his

church—that is to say, he forbade unworthy persons from approaching the

Lord’s Table. He enraged the Anabaptists by the importance which he

attached to the baptism of infants. He also desired to catechise the

children, and printed a short catechism for them. Simpson held that you

might as well buy rattles or hobby horses for children as catechisms.

Crofton began by refusing to recognise Simpson as afternoon lecturer;

the parishioners petitioned Cromwell to allow him one lecture in the

church on the Lord’s Day and one in the week. This was granted, and

Crofton had to give way.

Then occurred a charge which Crofton always denied, but which was

brought up against him continually. A certain maid-servant accused him

of chastising her with a rod in an improper manner. Afterwards she

swore that she had been bribed to bring the accusation.

In 1657 Crofton sent a letter to John Simpson; he was going to take

possession of his own pulpit, and Simpson might commence an action

as soon as he pleased. Simpson, however, complained to the Council

of State, and an order was granted him to preach in the afternoon.

Accordingly on Sunday, Crofton being in the pulpit and surrounded

by his friends, John Simpson and his party entered the church and

presented the order. It was addressed to Grafton, not Crofton. “This

order is not for me,” said the Vicar; whereupon the Simpson party

retired, beaten for once. The Council of State again interfered and

Crofton had to submit. He took revenge by charging Simpson’s three

principal friends with brawling in church. They were acquitted; he

made a public protest in the church. John Simpson then began to preach

against infant baptism; Crofton charged him with heresy and demanded

of him a defence of his position. Simpson preserved silence. But he

took other steps. He charged Crofton with being a declared enemy to

the Government and with preaching sedition and insurrection. Crofton

refused to acknowledge the jurisdiction of the Court. He published a

pamphlet, however, in which he defended himself and told a pretty story

of parish dissensions and persecutions. After this came the whirlwind.

Cromwell died. Crofton went into the country just before the Cheshire

rising, and was charged with preaching to the rebels; from this he

cleared himself. He then threw himself into the politics of the time,

strongly advocating a free Parliament; he preached at St. Peter’s,

Cornhill, for the restoration of Charles the Second; meantime John

Simpson had vanished and the magnanimous Crofton preached a sermon

on peace. He lost his church at the Restoration; he was consigned to

the Tower for a twelvemonth; he went down into Cheshire and turned

cheese-factor; he was again arrested for sowing sedition; he went

back to London and started a grocer’s shop; under the pressure of

the Five Mile Act he left London and took a farm at Little Barford

in Bedfordshire; after the Plague he returned to London and set up a

school in Aldgate; it was here that he preached a course of sermons

in St. James’s, Duke’s Place, which he afterwards published under the

title of “The Saints’ Care for Church Communion.” He died just before

Christmas 1672, and his body lies buried in the churchyard of his old

parish.

This story illustrates the feverish unrest of the time: the parish

divided into furious parties; one clergyman preaching infant baptism;

the other preaching that it was as idle to give the child a catechism

as a rattle; calumniations and recriminations of the vilest kind; the

Restoration; ejections; an attempt to earn a living by making cheese,

by farming, by keeping a shop, by keeping a school. A strange story of

a strange time!

As a part of the religious aspect of the City one must not omit the

desecration of St. Paul’s, which, during the twenty years 1640–1660,

was carried out in a manner so resolute and thorough as to show the

deliberate intention of giving the citizens, who still gloried in their

venerable Cathedral, a lesson in the revolution of religious thought.

The Cathedral, as Dean Milman says, was, under the Puritans, a vast

useless pile, the lair of old superstition and idolatry. It would have

been pulled down but for the trouble and the expense. The Parliament,

however, did what they could to procure its destruction; there was a

sum of £17,000 lying in the chambers of the City which remained out of

the subscriptions for repairing the church. This was seized. There had

also been erected round the tower a scaffolding of wood which was taken

down and sold for £174, the whole being given to Colonel Jefferson’s

regiment for arrears of pay. When the scaffolding was taken away,

part of the roof of the south transept fell in. Whereupon the Mayor

and Aldermen represented the necessity of getting more water into the

City, and begged the lead that covered the roof towards the pipes for

carrying the water.

In 1642 the removal of crucifixes and other superstitious objects was

ordered. In the same year all the copes belonging to the Cathedral were

burned. In 1645 the silver plate of St. Paul’s was sold, and the money

spent in providing artillery.

The Cathedral, according to the story, was offered by Cromwell to

the Jews, who refused to buy it. The east end was walled off for the

congregation of the lecturer, Cornelius Burgess. Inigo’s portico was

let out in small shops to sempstresses and hucksters, with chambers

above and stairs leading to them. The body of the church became a

cavalry barrack and stable. Paul’s Cross was pulled down.

The intolerance of the time may be illustrated by a hundred stories.

Take, for instance, the punishment of the unfortunate James Naylor.

On the 18th day of December 1656 a man stood in pillory for two hours

at the Old Palace Yard, Westminster. The case attracted some attention

because the man was a crack-brained enthusiast, originally in the

Society of Friends, who had been parading on horseback accompanied

by three women and one or two men singing, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the

Lord God of Hosts.” These people also called him the Everlasting Son

of Righteousness, the Prince of Peace, the Fairest of Ten Thousand.

The whole company were arrested and sent to London, where Parliament

considered the case of the man, whose name was James Naylor.

In accordance with their sentence, he was first placed in pillory at

Westminster for two hours; he was then taken down, tied to the cart’s

tail, and whipped by the hangman all the way to the Old Exchange in

the City. He received three hundred and ten strokes, and should have

received one more, “there being three hundred and eleven kennels”—I

know not what this means. By this time he was in a most pitiful

condition, as may be imagined. According to the sentence, he should

have stood in pillory for two hours more, and then have had his tongue

bored with a red-hot iron, but he could no longer stand. Therefore he

was respited for a week. At the end of that time, although many people

petitioned for his pardon, the other part of the sentence was most

cruelly inflicted. This was not all. As soon as he recovered he was

sent on to Bristol, where he was flogged through the town and laid in

prison.

The case of James Naylor happened in the Commonwealth. But religious

toleration was no more understood under a King than under a Protector.

The sufferings of the Quakers in the reign of Charles the Second prove

this fact. In 1662 there were 4200 of this Society imprisoned in

various parts of England either for frequenting meetings or refusing to

take oaths or for keeping away from Church. Some of them were crowded

into prisons so close that there was not room for all to sit down at

once; they were tradesmen, shopkeepers, and husbandmen; their property

was confiscated; they were refused straw to lie upon; they were often

denied food. Here is an extract from Sewel:—

“At London, and in the suburbs, where about this time no less

than five hundred of those called Quakers, imprisoned, and some

in such narrow holes, that every person scarcely had convenience

to lie down; and the felons were suffered to rob them of their

clothes and money. Many that were not imprisoned, nevertheless

suffered hardships in their religious meetings, especially that

in London, known by the name of Bull and Mouth. Here the trained

bands came frequently, armed generally with muskets, pikes, and

halbards, and conducted by a military officer, by order of the

city magistracy; and rushing in, in a very furious manner, fell to

beating them, whereby many were grievously wounded, some fell down

in a swoon, and some were beaten so violently, that they lived not

long after it. Among these was one John Trowel, who was so bruised

and crushed, that a few days after he died. His friends therefore

thought it expedient to carry the corpse into the aforesaid meeting

place, that it might lie there exposed for some hours, to be seen

of every one. This being done, raised commiseration and pity among

many of the inhabitants; for the corpse, beaten like a jelly,

looked black, and was swoln in a direful manner. This gave occasion

to send for the coroner, and he being come, empannelled a jury of

the neighbours, and gave them in charge according to his office,

to make true enquiry upon their oaths, and to present what they

found to be the cause of his death. They, viewing the corpse, had

a surgeon or two with them, to know their judgment concerning it;

and then going together in private, at length they withdrew without

giving in their verdict, only desiring the friends to bury the

corpse, which was done accordingly that evening. And though the

coroner and jury met divers times together upon that occasion, and

had many consultations, yet they never would give in a verdict;

but it appeared sufficiently, that the man was killed by violent

beating. The reasons some gave for the suspense of a verdict were,

that though it was testified that the same person, now dead, was

seen beaten, and knocked down; yet it being done in such a confused

crowd, no particular man could be fixed upon, so that any could

say, that man did the deed. And if a verdict was given that the

deceased person was killed, and yet no particular person charged

with it, then the City was liable to a great fine, at the pleasure

of the king, for conniving at such a murder in the city in the

day-time, not committed in a corner, but in a publick place, and

not apprehending the murderer, but suffering him to escape. In the

meanwhile the friends of the deceased were not wanting to give

public notice of the fact, and sent also a letter to the lord

mayor, which afterwards they gave out in print, together with a

relation of this bloody business. In this letter it was said, ‘It

may be supposed thou hast heard of this thing, for it was done not

in the night, but at the mid-time of the day; not suddenly, at

unawares, or by mishap, but intendedly, and a long space of time

a doing; and not in a corner, but in the streets of the city of

London; all which circumstances do highly aggravate this murder, to

the very shame and infamy of this famous city and its government’”

(William Sewel, _History of the Quakers_, 1722, p. 346).

CHAPTER II

THE CHURCH AND DISSENT

After the Restoration the religious condition of the City was greatly

modified. First the Church of England was enormously stronger than it

had been in any part of Charles the First’s reign. Then the persecution

of Roman Catholics and Nonconformists affected London more than the

country, first because many of the former had taken refuge in London,

and next because the City contained thousands of the latter, some of

whom obstinately refused any show of conformity. In 1666 the King

banished all Roman Catholic priests; in the following year he forbade

his subjects to hear Mass at the Queen’s or any Ambassador’s chapel.

At the same time he called upon the civil officers to enforce the

statutes provided. In 1671, when as yet few City churches were rebuilt,

he ordered that certain places hitherto used as conventicles should be

used as churches, served by orthodox ministers appointed by the Bishop

of London:—

“In Fisher’s-folly, in Bishopsgate Street—a convenient place, with two

galleries, pews, and seats.

[Illustration: _John Bunyan’s Meeting-house, Loar-street, Gravel-lane,

Southwark._]

In Hand-alley, in Bishopsgate Street—a large room, purposely built for

a meeting-house, with three galleries, thirty large pews, and many

benches and forms, known by the name of Vincent’s congregation.

In St. Michael’s Lane—a large room, with two galleries and thirty-nine

forms.

In Mugwell Street—Mr. Doolittle’s meeting-house, built of brick, with

three galleries, full of large pews; and thirty-eight large pews below,

with locks and keys to them, besides benches and forms.

The Cockpit in Jewin Street—a meeting-house of one Grimes, many pews,

forms, and benches.

In Blackfriars—Mr. Wood’s meeting-house; four rooms, opening into one

another, with lattice partitions, each room conveniently fitted with

benches and forms.

In Salisbury Court—four rooms, opening into one another, in the

possession of John Foule, a schoolmaster.

In New Street, within Shoe Lane—four rooms, opening into one another,

with seventeen pews, and divers benches, in the possession of Mrs.

Turner.”

During the Commonwealth we find certain games forbidden, as the

“Whimsey Board,” which used to be played in Lincoln’s Inn Fields.

Persons guilty of playing the virginals in taverns were punished for

“living loosely.” Search was continually made for Catholics. There

were dissensions in certain City churches about altar rails and other

things. The word saint was omitted. Weddings were celebrated by the

Alderman of the ward, and banns were published in Leadenhall Market.

The hospitals, with revenues greatly diminished, were used for the

wounded soldiers. In the same year it was thought necessary to repeat

the order for the banishment of priests, and in 1673 Catholic recusants

were forbidden to enter the Palace or Park of St. James’s or the

precincts of Whitehall. The Catholics, however, continued to flock to

the Ambassadors’ chapels. It was therefore ordered that messengers of

the Chamber or other officers should be stationed at the approaches

to these chapels in order to arrest those proposing to attend service

there.

In 1679 all Roman Catholics in London were ordered to leave the City

and to withdraw at least ten miles from it.

The constant repetition of these ordinances proves that they were

never enforced save by occasional fits of zeal; the Catholics went

away; a week later they returned; no doubt the officers were bribed

to shut their eyes. Yet the system was most exasperating; for a

Catholic to be compelled to attend a Protestant service was almost as

bad as for a Mohammedan to be compelled to eat pig; the Catholic rule

about attending heretical services is never relaxed; while a zealous

churchwarden, armed with blank warrants, which he could fill up as he

pleased in order to arrest and to fine, might make life intolerable.

A good many young Catholics went abroad for education, and presently

found it expedient to stay there. The Nonconformists, for their part,

had no intention of submitting meekly. There were riots and tumults

in the City. In 1681 the Middlesex magistrates endeavoured to put in

execution the Act of Charles II.:—

“Which enacts, that all those who preached in conventicles or

meetings, contrary to the statutes of the realm, shall not come

within five miles of a corporation; that no person shall teach

in any school under the penalty of £40, unless he attend the

established church. And that of the 20th year of the same reign,

which ordains, that if any person above sixteen years of age

attended a religious assembly in a house where more than five

others, exclusive of the household, were present, except the rites

were according to the established church, any person preaching

there should forfeit a certain sum.”

It was presently reported, to the blind terror and indignation of the

zealous, that in certain houses lately erected Catholics had opened

schools, and had attracted many pupils and numbers of people, their

parents and relations. It was therefore enacted that those persons

who, having licences for keeping houses of entertainment, did not

attend church and, instead, attended any kind of conventicle, should

lose their licence, and—a very serious blow against Catholics and

Nonconformists—money should not be given to the poor unless they

attended church. The Privy Council, having a list of Catholic tradesmen

in St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, St. Giles’s, and St. Paul’s, Covent

Garden, set an example to the City by ordering the Justices of the

Peace to proceed against them according to law.

The history of Nonconformity in London has been treated in the book

of the Eighteenth Century. The following, however, is a list of

conventicles and preachers in the year 1680:—

“Holborn, Short’s Gardens, Case, Presbyterian Minister.

Chequer Yard, Dowgate Hill, Watson, Presbyterian, 300.

Cutler’s Hall, Cole, Presbyterian, 400.

Hand Alley, Bishopsgate Street, Vincent the Elder, 800.

Glovers’ Hall, Beech Lane, Cripplegate, Fifth Monarchy Meeting.

Devonshire House, Bishopsgate, Harcostell, Anabaptist.

New Street, Fetter Lane, Cross.

Gracechurch Street, Gibson.

Devonshire House, Haward, drysalter.

Barking, Benj. Antrobus.

The Golden Harrow, Bishopsgate Without, linen-draper.

Plaistow, Clement Plumstead, ironmonger.

Three Cranes, Thames Street, R. Haward, coal merchant.

Barking, T. Bagley, Lothbury, clockmaker.

Little Eastcheap, R. Whitepace, butcher.

Cornhill, W. Mead, draper.

Leadenhall Street, S. Loveday, Anabaptist.

Star Alley, East Smithfield, Isaac Lamb, shoemaker.”

The example of religious discussion and the examination of doctrine

penetrated, as has been set forth, to the lower classes. A case in

point is that of Oliver Cromwell’s porter. This man, whose Christian

name was Daniel, learned in Cromwell’s service much of the cant that

prevailed at that time. He was a great plodder in books of divinity,

especially in those of the mystical kind, which are supposed to have

turned his brain. He was many years in Bedlam, where his library was,

after some time, allowed him, as there was not the least probability of

his cure. The most conspicuous of his books was a large Bible given him

by Nell Gwynne. He frequently preached and sometimes prophesied, and

was said to have foretold several remarkable events, particularly the

Fire of London. One would think that Butler had this frantic enthusiast

in view when he says:—

“Had lights where better eyes were blind,

As pigs are said to see the wind;

Fill’d Bedlam with predestination.”

(_Hudibras_).

Mr. Charles Leslie, who has placed him in the same class with Fox and

Muggleton, tells us that people often went to hear him preach, and

“would sit many hours under his window with great signs of devotion.”

That gentleman had the curiosity to ask a grave matron who was among

his auditors, “What she could profit by hearing that madman?” She, with

a composed countenance, as pitying his ignorance, replied, that “Festus

thought Paul was mad.”

In the year 1692 one Robert Midgley was moved to speak out on behalf of

the churches and their services. His pamphlet is useful in showing the

conduct of the religious services in the City of London at that time.

He imitated the methods of the theatres in issuing a printed paper of

services and hours. I omit a portion of his preamble:—

“And now considering the ways and methods which Satan and his

Emissaries have taken to fill his Chirches, the Theatres, with

Votaries, have been (not by Bells, which make a great noise near

hand and are not heard afar off, but) by silently dispersing their

Bills, and setting them up at the corners of the streets, whereby

they do draw People from all Parts to their contagious Assemblies,

I was easily convinced of the Success of the like Undertaking for

the Service of Almighty God, and therefore could no longer excuse

myself for the Omission thereof. These are, therefore, Dearly

beloved in Christ Jesus, to acquaint you where ye may daily, with

the congregations of the Faithful, assemble together at the House

of Prayer; where you may, in Imitation of the Apostles of our Lord,

every Lord’s Day partake of the blessed Sacrament of the Lord’s

Supper; and lastly, where there are any extraordinary regular

Lectures to be heard; in all which, for your good, I have spared no

pains for the certainty of my own information nor Charges in the

Dispersing hereof for yours. And now know that the wilful Neglect

of these means will one day have a sad after-reckoning, and that

this Paper will then rise up in judgment against you.

If this Paper[5] have its desired effect, I trust Almighty God

will open the hearts of his faithful Labourers, to set up Daily

Prayer and weekly Communion in many of their own churches, where at

present it is not.

For the sake of such as, during the whole time this is dispersing,

may happen, either by sickness, Absence, or otherwise, not to come

in the way of it, there shall be of them to be bought, _Price one

Halfpenny_, which is also _Corban_, and therefore put into the

hands but of one person to sell; whoever else, therefore, does sell

them, does also Print them, and consequently does not only rob this

Bookseller of his Copy (which cost the Author so much labour to

form) but all the Poor also of their just due herein, which it is

hoped every Christian Buyer will remember and consider.

ROB. MIDGLEY.”

From his list it appears that there were four daily services in

one church, three in seven churches, two in forty-one, and one in

thirty-six. That the Holy Communion was administered every Sunday in

eight churches, three times a month in two, twice at two churches, viz.

the chapels of Gray’s Inn and Lincoln’s Inn, and on the first Sunday

of the month at all the other churches. As regards the hour, at two

churches there were two celebrations at 7 A.M. and noon, in two at 6

A.M., in one at 8 A.M.; in all the rest at noon.

There were lectures in three churches at 6 A.M. every Sunday, in one

church at 7 A.M., in one at 10 A.M., in two at 4 P.M., in ten at 5

P.M., and in one at 6 P.M. On week days there were four churches where

a lecture was given once a week at 6 A.M., one at 9 A.M., twelve at 10

A.M., one at 11 A.M., one at 2 P.M., three at 3 P.M., four at 4 P.M.,

one at 5 P.M., and one at 6 P.M. Of evening service, as we understand

it, there was none. It is, however, without doubt that all the churches

were open practically every day for service, and that all the week

round a pious person might hear a sermon in the morning and another

in the evening; or he might run round from church to church and hear

sermons all day long.

Charity has always been closely coupled with church-going in theory

at least. In Appendix III. will be found a list of the almshouses of

London of this period.

This list, containing forty-one almshouses in which hospitals are not

included and seventeen schools, appears to speak well for the charity,

well directed and deliberate, of the seventeenth century. Out of the

whole number of almshouses in existence in the year 1756, when this

list was compiled, the seventeenth century founded nearly the half,

and of the whole number of endowed schools existing in 1753, the

seventeenth century contributed exactly one half.

Of the greatest of all the “almshouses” founded in the Stuart period,

viz. Chelsea Hospital, I do not speak in this place, as a full account

of it is given elsewhere in the Survey.[6]

CHAPTER III

SUPERSTITIONS

Foremost among the superstitious beliefs of the century was that of

witchcraft. It became, indeed, more actively mischievous and more

real in the minds of the people on account of the universal habit,

considered as a Christian duty, of referring everything to the Bible,

as much to the Old as to the New Testament. Theologians of all sects

believed in witchcraft and in the active interference of the Devil.

Erasmus and Luther, for instance, were believers in witchcraft, while

King James wrote on witches. The persecution of miserable old women,

accused of being witches because they were old and poor, was carried on

throughout the seventeenth century; it is a frightful record of cruelty

and superstition, especially in the eastern counties, which were mainly

Puritan, and therefore even more inclined than the rest of England to

accept the literal application of the Old Testament to their own time.

“Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,” said the Book of Exodus.

“There shall not be found among you,” said the Book of Deuteronomy,

“one that useth divinations, or an observer of times, or an enchanter,

or a witch, or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a

wizard, or a necromancer.” Could anything be plainer? Again, “Regard

not them that have familiar spirits, neither seek after wizards to be

defiled with them. I am the Lord your God.”

The belief in witchcraft was universal, but the persecution was not; in

London, though there is no reason to doubt the belief, there are few

cases on record of the actual persecution of witches. One case is that

of Sarah Mordyke, who was apprehended at Paul’s Wharf, charged with

bewitching one Richard Hetheway, near the Falcon Stairs in Southwark.

She was taken before certain learned Justices in Bow Lane. The victim

swore that he had lost his appetite, voided pins, etc., but recovered

when he had scratched and brought blood from Sarah Mordyke, the witch.

Another case is that of Sarah Griffith. She lived in Rosemary Lane.

She had long been considered a bad woman, but nothing could be proved

against her, though it was suspicious that her neighbours’ children

were affected with strange distempers, and were affrighted with

apparitions of cats. One day, however, she was buying soap in a shop

when the apprentice laughed at the scales not being right, and said

they must be bewitched. Whereupon the old woman thought he was laughing

at her and vowed vengeance. Sure enough, in the night everything in the

shop was turned topsy-turvy.

Two or three days after, the apprentice, with two or three friends, was

walking towards New River Head when they met Sarah Griffith. It was a

favourable opportunity to try her, so they tossed her into the canal.

Instead of drowning she swam like a cork—a sure sign of her guilt.

When they let her come out she smote the young man on the arm, making

a mark as black as a coal, and told him he should pay dear for what he

had done. So he went home in a great fright and died. After this his

master took a constable and brought her before the Justices, charging

her with compassing the death of his apprentice by witchcraft. She was

accordingly committed to the Clerkenwell Bridewell, and I know not what

became of her afterwards.

I have before me a short pamphlet on the tragic history of a young

gentleman of Stepney who sold himself to the Devil.

When one remembers Defoe’s mystification about Mrs. Veal one suspects

that this story is also an invention, devised for the purpose of

inspiring godly fear, and based upon popular superstition rather than

a narrative put together on hearsay, exaggerated as it passed from lip

to lip. The story is quite in Defoe’s circumstantial manner. A young

gentleman named Watts, son of Mr. William Watts of Stepney and of

Anne, daughter of Squire Wilson of Brentwood, was the only survivor of

four children. He was therefore treated with the greatest indulgence

and tenderness. After five years at St. John’s College, Oxford, he

returned home and began to keep evil company, being already ripe in

wickedness. His parents remonstrated with him, but in vain. Finally,

his father refused to give him any more money for the support of

his extravagances. The son, in a great rage, swore that he would be

revenged upon his parents even to the hazard of his soul. He took a

lodging at some distance from his father’s house, and fell to devising

how he might get the estate into his own hands.

Now, as he was thus meditating, Satan himself came into the room and

asked the reason of his sadness. After a little conversation the young

man consented to sign away his soul with his own blood in return for as

much money as he could spend in twelve years.

When the time approached he went home, struck with terror and remorse,

and confessed to his father all that he had done.

His father sent for certain divines who are duly mentioned, viz. Dr.

Russel of Wapping, Dr. Sannods, Dr. Smithies, and Dr. Paul. These

clergymen gathered round the poor wretch, now weeping and wringing his

hands, and entreated him to pray; but he could not, so they prayed

for him, but in vain; for in the middle of the night there arose

a dreadful storm of thunder, lightning, rain, and hail, and in the

midst of the storm the Devil came into the room “in dreadful shapes,”

snatched the young man from their midst, dashed out his brains against

the wall, tore him limb from limb, and scattered the fragments on the

dunghill behind the house.

The pamphlet concludes with a sermon preached upon this doleful

occasion. The story is, as I said before, either an exaggerated account

of some local rumour, or it is a deliberate invention, which is, of

course, the more probable. In either case it proves the continued

existence of the old traditions about selling one’s self to the Devil,

of which we find abundant examples among the mediæval chronicles. The

superstition must be added to those already recorded of the seventeenth

century.

It is needless to add that the bagful of superstitions was swallowed

whole by people of every rank and class. In the _Spectator_ we read how

the girls vied with each other in telling ghost stories. They watched

for omens, and made themselves miserable when these were unlucky;

they remembered their dreams carefully and consulted the _Dictionary

of Dreams_ or the nearest wise woman; they learned what was coming

by the tingling of the ears, irritation of the nose, specks on the

nails, and other signs; the meeting of birds and creatures filled them

with terror; they read warnings in the candle and in the fire; the

dogs howled in sign of approaching death. Most of these superstitions

are still with us, more or less. It must, however, be observed that

London, with its crowded, busy, active life, was far less troubled with

superstitions than the country; people had no time to worry over signs

and omens in the midst of their full and busy lives.

Lucky and unlucky days played a very important part in the conduct of

life. Cromwell’s lucky day was the 3rd of September. Thursday was an

unlucky day for Henry VIII. and his children. Every change of moon

brought an unlucky day; there were also certain unlucky days in every

month. Lord Burghley, who despised these observances as a rule, kept

three days in the year as especially unlucky. The reasons why he

considered them unlucky mark a great gulf between his time and ours.

The first Monday in April was one, because on that day Cain was born

and Abel was killed. The second Monday in August was another, because

then Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed. The remaining day was the last

Monday in December, because at that time Judas Iscariot was born. How

these days were discovered, and why they should be unlucky for all time

to follow, are questions which it is impossible to answer.

Almanacks containing lists of lucky and unlucky days were in great

request, and continued until quite recently. They were consulted by

everybody before entering upon any kind of work.

The autobiography of William Lilly is valuable for its unconscious

exposure of fraud, impudence, credulity, and superstition. He lived

throughout the greater part of the seventeenth century. It was an age

in which the so-called science of astrology flourished exceedingly.

The astrologer not only cast nativities and foretold in general

terms the future of a man, but also condescended to answer questions

concerning doubtful points, as in matters of love; found lucky days for

the commencement of any business or enterprise; discovered thefts and

thieves; practised physic without preliminary training, and compelled,

by means of the crystal ball or some other magic, spirits and angels to

perform their bidding. In all these pretensions and powers Lilly firmly

believed; yet he was unable to prove them by making the spirits, his

servants, obey him in great things—such as the rescue of King Charles

and the triumph of his cause. Moreover, in his simple chat about his

brethren of the fraternity he is quite unable to see how he gives

away the whole of his own pretensions by exposing their weakness and

their failures. Thus one of them “sets a figure” about himself. He

learns from this figure that he is to be a Lord or great man within

two years. Alas! in two years he was in Newgate Prison. Another time

he set his figure, and learned that he was to be a great man within a

year. But in that year he advanced not one whit. And being consulted

by a friend about to undertake a voyage, he learned by astrology that

it would be a fortunate adventure. Unhappily it proved the reverse,

for the adventurer was taken prisoner by pirates and lost his all. He

set down four or five other judgments, in every one of which he was

wrong. Lilly, however, sees in these failures no reflection on the

“science” at all. Another of them, Evans, a clergyman who had to give

up his benefice on account of some scandal, lived by giving judgment

on things lost; he was “much addicted to debauchery,” very abusive

and quarrelsome; he made and sold antimonial cups, and he was in

correspondence with an angel named Salmon, whom he ordered to fetch

and carry for him. His portrait, if it is genuine, represents a face

like a dog’s—the most ill-favoured, ill-conditioned, repulsive face

imaginable. Another, Alexander Hart, used his wonderful powers for

finding lucky days for young gentlemen about to gamble. Lilly does

not seem to have grasped the elementary fact that any one actually

possessing magical powers would certainly use them for his own

enrichment. And there was Captain Bubb, who “resolved horary questions

astrologically.” He, however, was found out and put into pillory.

There was one Jeffrey Neve, who brought Lilly two hundred “verified

questions,” desiring him to correct them for publication, but of the

first forty, thirty were untrue. There was Dr. Ardee, who declared that

an angel had offered him a lease of life for one thousand years; yet

the poor man died at fourscore.

The crystal ball was not an astrological instrument, but many of the

astrologers practised by means of it. This instrument of pretence and

imposture has been revived in our own times. The ball was held in

the hand by those who had “the sight.” Then things and persons were

seen. Thus there was one Sarah Skelhorn who had a perfect “sight.” She

could see in the ball what any persons were doing at any time or in

any place, but seems to have used this remarkable gift for objects

quite paltry, as when she observed her mother, who was many miles

away, taking a red waistcoat out of a trunk—a really terrible waste of

good power. How useful would Sarah be in time of war in order to tell

exactly where the enemy was and what the enemy was doing! She was also

familiar with angels, who were so fond of her that they followed her

about until she was really tired of them.

There was Ellen Evans, daughter of the scandalous _défroqué_ above

mentioned. She could call up the Queen of the Pigmies whenever she

pleased merely by saying, “O Micol! O tu Micol, Regina Pygmeorum,

veni!” There was also Sir Robert Holborn, Knight, who “formerly had

sight and conference with Uriel and Raphael, but lost them both by

carelessness.” And so on. The volume is redeemed from intolerable

silliness by the firm belief of the author in the science. It shows,

however, that the whole of the country was filled with credulity and

childish superstition.

The following lines are the commencement of a Latin epitaph composed

for Lilly by one George Smalridge, student of Christ Church, Oxford:—

“Occidit, atque suis annalibus addidit atram

Astrologus, qua non tristior ulla, diem.

Pone triumphales, lugubris Luna, quadrigas;

Sol, maestum picea nube reconde caput.

Illum, qui Phoebi scripsit, Phoebesque labores,

Eclipsen docuit Stella maligna pati.

Invidia Astrorum cecidit, qui sidera rexit;

Tanta erat in notas scandere cura domos

Quod vidit, risum cupiit, potiturque, cupito

Coelo, et sidereo fulget in orbe decus.”

Two official superstitions must be recorded, if only because they were

practised and no doubt fully believed in London. They were touching for

the King’s Evil and the blessing of the Cramp Ring. The ceremonies for

both these observances are here described.

First, the touching for the King’s Evil—

“_The King, kneeling, shall say_,

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy

Ghost. Amen.

_And so soon as He hath said that, He shall say_,

Give the blessing.

_The Chaplain, kneeling before the King, and having a Stole about

his Neck, shall answer and say_,

The Lord be in your heart and in your lips, to confess all your

sins. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the

Holy Ghost. Amen.

_Or else he shall say_,

Christ hear us. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and

of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

_Then by and by the King shall say_,

I confess to God, to the blessed Virgin Mary, to all Saints,

and to you, that I have sinned in thought, word, and deed

through my fault; I pray Holy _Mary_, and all the saints of God

and you, to pray for me.

_The Chaplain shall answer and say_,

Almighty God have mercy upon you, and pardon you all your sins,

deliver you from all evil, and confirm you in good, and bring

you to everlasting life. Amen.

The Almighty and Merciful Lord grant you absolution and

remission of all your sins, time for true repentance and

amendment of life, with the grace and comfort of his Holy

Spirit. Amen.

_This done the Chaplain shall say_,

The Lord be with you.

_The King shall answer_,

And with thy spirit.

_The Chaplain_,

Part of the Gospel according to St. Mark.

_The King shall answer_,

Glory to thee, O Lord.

_The Chaplain reads the Gospel_:

Last he appeared to those Eleven as they sat at the Table: and

he exprobated their Incredulity and hardness of Heart, because

they did not believe them that had seen him risen again. And he

said to them: Going into the whole World, Preach the Gospel to

all Creatures. He that believeth and is Baptised, shall be

saved: But he that believeth not, shall be condemned. And them

that believe, these Signs shall follow: In my name shall they

cast out Devils, they shall speak with new tongues. Serpents

shall they take up, and if they drink any deadly thing it shall

not hurt them; they shall impose hands upon the sick, and they

shall be whole.

_Which last clause_ (They shall impose, etc.) _the Chaplain repeats

as long as the King is handling the sick person. And in the time of

repeating the aforesaid words_ (They shall impose, etc.) _the Clerk

of the Closet shall Kneel before the King, having the sick person

upon the right hand; and the sick person shall likewise kneel

before the King: and then the King shall lay his hand upon the sore

of the sick Person. This done, the Chaplain shall make an end of

the Gospel_:

And so our Lord Jesus after he spake unto them was assumpted

into Heaven, and sate on the right hand of God. But they going

forth preached everywhere; our Lord working withal, and

confirming the Word with signs which followed.

_Whilst this is reading, the Chirurgion shall lead away the sick

person from the King. And after the Gospel the Chaplain shall say_,

The Lord be with you.

_The King shall answer_,

And with thy spirit.

_The Chaplain_,

The beginning of the Gospel according to St. _John_.

_The King_,

Glory to thee, O Lord.

_The Chaplain then shall say this Gospel following_:

In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and

God was the word. This was in the beginning with God. All

things were made by him, and without him was made nothing that

which was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of

men. And the light shineth in darkness, and the darkness did

not comprehend it. There was a man sent from God, whose name

was _John_. This man came for testimony: to give testimony of

the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the

light, but to give testimony of the light. It was the true

light which lightneth every man that cometh into this world.

_Which last Clause_ (It was the true light, etc.) _shall still be

repeated so long as the King shall be crossing the sore of the

sick Person, with an Angel of Gold Noble, and the sick Person to

have the same Angel hang’d about his neck, and to wear it until he

be full whole. This done, the Chirurgion shall lead away the sick

Person as he did before; and then the Chaplain shall make an end of

the Gospel_:

He was in the world, and the world was made by him, and the

world knew him not. He came into his own, and his own received

him not. But as many as received him, he gave them power to be

made the Sons of God, to those that believe in his name. Who

not of blood, nor of will of the flesh, nor of the will of man,

but of God are born. And the word was made flesh and dwelt in

us, and we saw the glory of him, glory as it were of the only

begotten of the Father, full of grace and verity.

[Illustration: _London Printet for Dorman Newman at the kings Armes in

the Poultry &c_:

TOUCHING FOR KING’S EVIL]

_Then the Chaplain shall say_,

The Lord’s name be praised.

_The King shall answer_,

Now and for ever.

_Then shall the Chaplain say this Collect following, praying for

the Sick Person or Persons_,

O Lord, hear my prayer.

_The King shall answer_,

And let my cry come unto thee.

_The Chaplain_,

Let us pray:

Almighty and everlasting God, the eternal health of them that

believe; graciously hear us for thy servants for whom we

implore the aid of thy mercy, that their health being restored

to them, they may give thee thanks in thy church, thro’ Christ

our Lord. Amen.

_This Prayer following is to be said secretly, after the Sick

Persons be departed from the King, at his Pleasure_:

Almighty God, Ruler and Lord, by whose goodness the blind see,

the deaf hear, the dumb speak, the lame walk, the lepers are

cleansed, and all sick persons are healed of their infirmities:

By whom also alone the gift of healing is given to mankind, and

so great a grace, thro’ thine unspeakable goodness toward this

Realm, is granted unto the Kings thereof, that by the sole

imposition of their hands a most grievous and filthy disease

should be cured: Mercifully grant that we may give thee thanks

therefore, and for this thy singular benefit conferr’d on us,

not to ourselves, but to thy name let us daily give glory; and

let us always so exercise ourselves in piety, that we may

labour not only diligently to conserve, but every day more and

more to encrease thy grace bestowed upon us: And grant that on

whose bodies soever we have imposed hands in thy name, thro’

this thy Vertue working in them, and thro’ our Ministry, may be

restored to their former health, and being confirmed therein,

may perpetually with us give thanks unto thee, the Chief

Physician and Healer of all diseases; and that henceforwards

they may so lead their lives, as not their bodies only from

sickness, but their souls also from sin may be perfectly purged

and cured: Thro’ our Lord Jesus Christ thy Son, who liveth and

reigneth with thee in the Unity of the Holy Ghost, God World

without end. Amen.”

Next, the blessing of the Cramp Ring by the King on Good Friday

according to the form prescribed. It was as follows:—

“First, the singing of the Psalm _Deus Misereatur Noster_.

_Then the King reades this prayer_:

Almighty eternal God, who by the most copious gifts of thy

grace, flowing from the unexhausted fountain of thy bounty,

hast been graciously pleased for the comfort of mankind,

continually to grant us many and various meanes to relieve us

in our miseries; and art willing to make those the instruments

and channels of thy gifts, and to grace those persons with more

excellent favours, whom thou hast raised to the Royal dignity;

to the end that as by Thee they reign and govern others: so by

Thee they may prove beneficial to them; and bestow thy favours

on the people: graciously heare our prayers, and favourably

receive those vows we powre forth with humility, that Thou

mayst grant to us, who beg with the same confidence the favour,

which our Ancestours by their hopes in thy mercy have obtained:

through Christ our Lord. Amen.

_The Rings lying in one bason or more, this prayer is to be said

over them_:

O God, the maker of heavenly and earthly creatures, and

the most gracious restorer of mankind, the dispenser of

spiritual grace, and the origin of all blessings; send downe

from heaven thy holy Spirit the Comforter upon these Rings,

artificially fram’d by the workman, and by thy greate power

purify them so, that all the malice of the fowle and venomous

Serpent be driven out; and so the metal, which by Thee was

created, may remaine pure, and free from all dregs of the

enemy. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

_The Blessing of the Rings_:

O God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob, heare

mercifully our prayers. Spare those who feare thee. Be

propitious to thy suppliants, and graciously be pleased to

send downe from Heaven thy holy Angel: that he may sanctify ✠

and blesse ✠ these Rings: to the end they may prove a healthy

remedy to such as implore thy name with humility, and accuse

themselves of the sins, which ly upon their conscience: who

deplore their crimes in the sight of thy divine clemency, and

beseech with earnestness and humility thy most serene piety.

May they in fine by the invocation of thy holy name become

profitable to all such as weare them, for the health of their

soule and body, through Christ our Lord. Amen.

_A Blessing._

O God, who has manifested the greatest wonders of thy power

by the cure of diseases, and who were pleased that Rings

should be a pledge of fidelity in the patriark Judah, a

priestly ornament in Aaron, the mark of a faithful guardian

in Darius, and in this Kingdom a remedy for divers diseases:

graciously be pleased to blesse and sanctify these rings,

to the end that all such who weare them may be free from

all snares of the Devil, may be defended by the power of

celestial armour; and that no contraction of the nerves, or

any danger of the falling sickness may infest them, but that

in all sort of diseases by thy help they may find relief. In

the name of the Father, ✠ and of the Son, ✠ and of the Holy

Ghost. ✠ Amen.”

After another psalm the following prayer was read:—

“Wee humbly implore, O merciful God, thy infinit clemency;

that as we come to thee with a confident soule, and sincere

faith, and a pious assurance of mind: with the like devotion

thy beleevers may follow on these tokens of thy grace. May

all superstition be banished hence, far be all suspicion of

any diabolical fraud, and to the glory of thy name let all

things succeede: to the end thy beleevers may understand thee

to be the dispenser of all good; and may be sensible and

publish, that whatsoever is profitable to soule or body is

derived from thee: through Christ our Lord. Amen.

_These prayers being said, the Kings highnes rubbeth the Rings

between his hands, saying_:

Sanctify, O Lord, these Rings, and graciously bedew them

with the dew of thy benediction, and consecrate them by the

rubbing of our hands, which thou hast been pleased according

to our ministry to sanctify by an external effusion of

holy oyle upon them: to the end, that what the nature of

the mettal is not able to performe, may be wrought by the

greatnes of thy grace: through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

Then with another prayer holy water was thrown on the rings and the

ceremony was complete.

CHAPTER IV

SANCTUARY

There is a somewhat dreary allegory of a voyage called “The Floating

Island, or a New Discovery relating the Strange Adventure on a late

Voyage from Lambethana to Villa Franca, _alias_ Ramallia, to the

eastward of Terra del Templo.”

It was published in the year 1673, and it contains an account of

certain parts of London which give it some interest. The humour of the

piece is that places described are mentioned as new discoveries lying

at the distance of many days’ voyage from one to the other. Thus, to

take a single example, the following is the description of the Savoy.

The sanctuary of this quarter is, of course, Alsatia:—

“The Palace is a very stately Fabrick, and hath been formerly

employed for charitable uses, and still serves as an excellent

Refuge and Sanctuary for such who are either forced by banishment,

or voluntary Exile, to desert their native or long lov’d

habitations, where they may live obscurely, and yet take their

pleasure abroad in the Countries round about, by the means of those

several convenient Avenues belonging thereunto, viz. for sporting

on a brave River, the Stairs; for the Land, the Great Gate butting

Norwards and separated but by a very small channel from Excestria.

To the eastward there is an outlet which leadeth two ways, the one

on the left into the Dutchy, the other turning a little on the

right, into Somersetania; by the first you have a conveyance into

the Country called Maypolia, and so have the whole Country before

you to make choice of; by the last a safe passage by water, or a

conduct short and commodious through the Provinces of White-Hart

into Hortensia (vulgarly called Covent Garden), from whence you may

travail through the whole kingdom.

The Slavonian women supplied us with Fish and fruits of all sort,

which they bring down in abundance from the Upland Countries;

insomuch that we could not fear want of Provision so long as we had

Money; nor question our security, whilst we did put ourselves under

the Protection of this place or of the Dutchy Liberty.”

The sanctuary was for debtors, but not for felons or traitors, and

bailiffs occasionally effected an entrance by pretending to have a

warrant for the arrest of the latter. But on the cry of “Arrest,

Arrest,” the whole of the residents flew to arms and drove out the

offenders, perhaps with the loss of their ears. There were punishments

inflicted on those who invaded the rights of sanctuary.

Not far from the Savoy the adventurous voyagers discover a floating

island, called the Summer Island, or Scoti Moria, viz. “There were two

Ports or landing Places, one guarded by ‘Knights of the Blue Aprons,’”

_i.e._ waiters, who wore aprons of that colour; and the other by a

woman with a white apron. They landed; they found, to leave the

allegory, a company assembled playing skittles on the deck and down

below drinking bad wine in worse company. The whole of the vessel was

filled with bottles; and for commodities for sale or exchange there

were none except “what were wrapped in silken Petticoats, and like a

Pig in a Poke you must buy, or not at all.” There was also a billiard

table on the ship, and tobacco was their only “breath and breathing

while.” The next land they touch is the Island of Ursina, or the

Bearbaiting, on which it appears that the charge of five shillings

covered a ticket for drink as well as entrance. The description of the

sport, which follows, affords nothing new. Sailing from Ursina, they

arrive at the _Ne plus ultra_, where they are deafened by the “great

fall and hideous noise of the waters”—in other words, at London Bridge.

Not far from this place they discovered mermaids, both male and female;

but the latter only swam at night, being shy. I do not understand this

allusion.

The author is pleased to represent Terra del Templo, or the Temple, as

a place occupied chiefly by a people constantly engaged in defending

themselves against an enemy.

“In the Description of this Ramallia, I must look into Terra del

Templo, but shall not pry into its Court, nor any of the standing

houses, the Housekeeper’s lodging, nor into the menial precincts of

the Inns of Court, farther, than they stand for Refuge and Relief

of the neighbouring Privileges about them. And indeed (since the

general purgation by fire) the first, and chiefest of all, which

for advantage of ground, for fortifications, for Water Works,

Posterns, Passages, Supplies, and provisions by land, or otherwise,

is that so far famed and so fitly named Ramallia; in it are several

Garrisons of old Soldiers, every one of the which is able to lead a

whole Army of Younger Debtors.

They call their Muster rôle in the Round Church, which might more

properly be called their Corps du Guard; then they draw them out

into the Cloysters, and either exercise them there, or in the

Garden, which is an excellent Military Spot for that purpose; but

under the Blowers in the Rum Stampers (called the King’s Bench

walk) they pitch their set Battles, where every evening that ground

(which was lifted in and level’d for their use) is fil’d with men

of desperate and undaunted resolution.

The first work in Ramallia is rais’d and contrived in the form of

a Ram; there is no other reason I can render for it, but that Rams

were of great use in the Jewish Discipline, for Batteries, as you

may read in Josephus his History more at large. This work is of

reasonable strength; in former times it had a watch Tower in the

similitude of a Coblers shop adjoyning, from whence all the forces

about are called together, upon the least approach of the Enemy.

There is another, called the Maidenhead, and is impregnable, where

the Enemy dares not come within shot, and in the nearest to the

confines of Terra del Templo. There are other pretty contrived

Platforms, as Teste Royal, the Falcon, Mitre, etc., and these in

the fashion and form of Cookshops; where if a Setter or Spy chance

to peep in at them (though very dark) they will make him pay for

the roast before he depart. To this Ramallia, or Ramykins, belongs

a very great Fleet, consisting of many Sail, well man’d, and are a

great preservation to the Ramykins.

This place, according to the late Geographical Map, as well as

the report of ancient Writers, cannot possibly be so besieged but

that they within may go in and out at their pleasure, without

impeachment; for at the Middle Temple Gate they issue in spight of

the Devil; at the Inner Temple Gate they fear no colours in the

Rainbow; and at the Postern of the Ramykins, in case they cannot

make over to Fetter Lane, but discover Ambuscado’s, they need only

draw their bodies within guard of Pike, turn faces about, and

retreat through the Mitre.

Now admit they stand for Rio del Plata (commonly called Fleet

Street) and be so intercepted that they cannot recover the

Ramykins, all that is required in that case is but to mend their

March; fall downwards, as if they gave way, suddenly discharge

their right-hand file, and fall easily into Sergeants Inn; where by

ancient Treaty had between this famous place and Terra del Templo,

it was agreed that the parties in such distress might (paying a

small Fee) have convoy and conveyance without the re-hazzard of any

of their persons.

If at any time they had a mind to Forrage, they are no sooner out

of the Middle Temple Gate, but there is a threefold way to defend

them; the Bell Inn, the Bar Gate, and Shire Lane. The passage under

the Blowers is a most excellent safe way for close contriving

and retriving; neither is the Gardners Wharfage (as the Tide may

serve) anyways inconsiderable. To speak the truth, the nature of

Ramallia is much alter’d in few years, neither is the place so much

frequented as formerly by Forreigners in Refuge, the inhabitants

slighting or being careless in the preservation of their ancient

privileges.”

[Illustration: _THE WEST PROSPECT OF THE CHURCH OF S^T. BARTHOLOMEW THE

GREAT._

ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S

From the Crace Collection in the British Museum.]

The author tells us, further, that there were formerly many other

places which were considered sanctuaries for debtors, _i.e._ places

where writs could not be served. These were (1) Milford Lane, at first

occupied and defended by indigent officers, who held it, so to speak,

by the sword:—

“And notwithstanding their title hath been much disputed

heretofore, yet they have now commuted the matter, prov’d

Plantation, and have withal reduced it to a most absolute Hance and

free Town of itself, without dependency.”

(2) Fulwoods Rents in Holborn, a place which remained to this century

of bad reputation, though it contained several good houses.[7]

(3) Baldwin’s Gardens was another sanctuary:—

“The Back-gate into Graies-Inn Lane, with the benefit of Bauldwins

Gardens, is of excellent use; but the passiges through certain

Inns on the Field-side are not attempted without hazard, by reason

of the straggling Troops of the Enemy, who lie Purdue in every

ale-house thereabouts. The safest way of Sally is that through the

Walks, from whence the Red Lyon in Graies-Inn Lane receives them

with good quartering, and passes them through the back way into the

Main Land.”

(4) Another was Great St. Bartholomew’s:—

“Upon whose platform a whole Army of Borrowers and Book-men might

have been mustred and drawn out in length, or into what form or

figure it had pleased them to cast themselves. What works, yea what

variety of Art and Workmanship was within it; What an excellent

half-Moon was there cast up without it, for defence to the

Eastward; What excellent Sconces, in the fashion of Tobacco-shops

and Ale houses in all parts of it.

But alas these are demolisht, for the most part, the old Soldiers

discharg’d, and all delivered up into the hand of the Enemy upon

composition.”

The precinct of St. John of Jerusalem was also formerly held as a

sanctuary, but had lost its privileges. In the precinct of Blackfriars

privileges were granted to some of the oldest trades, those, probably,

which were carried on in the few houses belonging to the Friars. These

were feathermakers, Scotch tailors, and French shoemakers. Another is

Montagu Close, on the west side of St. Mary Overies, the sanctuary of

the Borough. In later years it was removed further south to the place

called the Mint.

On the north side of Blackfriars is the place which the residents of

all these sanctuaries are continually trying to escape. The author

calls it a very strong and formidable citadel belonging to the enemy.

This is Ludgate Prison.

“It is much like the apples of Sodom, better for fight without

than in. Its whole prospect from within are iron grates, where,

through every Transom, the forlorn Captives may take a view of

the Iron Age; there is one single entrance, which, like Hell’s

Gate, lets many in, but few out, turn once the Ward—Et vestigia

nulla retrorsum. The Cimmerians in their dwellings resemble these

in their lodgings, only their lights are different; those receive

some scattered beamings by their Mountain Crannies; these by their

disconsolate loopholes.

Yet from above, the Inhabitants may take a view of all those places

which club’d to their restrain; and be reminded of the loss of time

which brought them thither. The Governour hereof is careless whence

they come, but infinitely cautious how they go away; and if they go

away without his favour, they are in great danger to break their

necks for their labour.”

The rest of the little book is made up of a Rabelaisian description

of the people in sanctuary—the Ram Alley folk, with certain “special

cases.”

“In case of Linnen, it hath been adjudged, that if three good

fellows and constant Companions have but one shirt between them,

and that these three (seeing none of their other shifts will do

them any good) jointly consent this shirt shall be sold, it shall

be lawful for them to expose it to sale, vended and condemned for

the common good of three, and that forthwith the money be spent

in the cherishing that blood that retired from the extream parts,

being chil’d with the fright of parting with so dear and near a

friend.”

CHAPTER V

CITY GOVERNMENT AND USAGES

In this chapter I have collected certain notes which may illustrate

such points in City government as differentiate the seventeenth century

from that which preceded and that which followed it. For instance, the

times were troubled; a man might, by bending before the successive

storms, win his way through in safety; but an honest man with

principles, courage, and convictions might expect fine and imprisonment

if he accepted office, and might think himself lucky if he carried his

ears out of office, or if he were not fined to the full extent of his

worldly fortune, or if he had not to fly across the seas to Holland. In

_Remembrancia_, therefore, we are not surprised to find many letters

from merchants praying to be excused from office.

Among the less dangerous duties of the Mayor was the reception of the

foreign Ambassadors.

On the arrival of Ambassadors the Lords of the Council sent a letter

to the Lord Mayor commanding him to find a suitable residence and

a proper reception. In 1580 the Spanish Ambassador was allotted a

house in Fenchurch Street which he did not like, so he asked instead

for Arundel House. In 1583 the Swedish Ambassador arrived; he was to

have three several lodgings, with stabling for twenty horses. In 1613

the “Emperor of Muscovy” sent an Ambassador; in 1611 one came from

the Duke of Savoy; in 1616 an Ambassador-Extraordinary arrived from

the King of France; in 1626 two from the State of Venice; in 1628

another Spanish Ambassador; in the same year a Russian Ambassador; in

1637 an Ambassador from the “King of Morocco.” All these Ambassadors

were lodged and entertained in the City after a formal reception and

procession through the streets to their lodging.

Mediæval London was a city of palaces and of nobles’ palaces. Under the

Tudors there were still some of these town houses left. Toward the end

of the seventeenth century there were very few, only one or two.

A long list of noblemen and gentlemen living around London in the

year 1673 may be found in the _London and Middlesex Note-book_. When

one examines this list a little closely, it is remarked that the

residences of far the greater number of those on the list are at St.

Martin’s-in-the-Fields, at Westminster, in St. James’s Fields, in

Leicester Fields, at Hackney, and that, though some actually belong to

the outskirts of the City, none are living within the walls of the City

itself except the City knights and merchants.

[Illustration: WARWICK HOUSE, CLOTH FAIR]

The houses still occupied by nobility, taking them from Ogilby’s Map

(see Map) were: Thanet House in Aldersgate Street, the town house of

the Earl of Thanet; the Earl of Bridgwater’s house in the Barbican;

Warwick House; Brook House and Ely House, in Holborn; Lord Berkeley’s

house in St. John Street; the Marquis of Dorchester’s, Lord Grey’s,

and the Earl of Ailesbury’s in Charter-house Lane; in the Strand,

Somerset House, belonging to, or occupied by successively, Queen

Anne of Denmark, Queen Henrietta Maria, Queen Catherine of Braganza;

Arundel House, then the residence of the Duke of Norfolk, who was a

great collector of statues and inscriptions; Essex House, where Robert

Devereux, Earl of Essex, the parliamentary general, was born. All

these three were in the Strand. Outside Ogilby’s Map, but still in the

outskirts of the City, were Lord Craven’s and Lord Clare’s houses, in

and near Drury Lane.

If we take one parish for an example—say that of St. Benet’s, Thames

Street—we find that the son of the Earl of Carnarvon was christened

in that church on November 26, 1633, that four children of the Earl

of Pembroke were born in this parish and christened in this church,

viz. Susanna, christened May 7, 1650; Mary, December 12, 1651; Philip,

January 5, 1652; and Rebecca, July 18, 1655.

Before the Fire these noblemen had town houses in the parish—Lord

Pembroke had Baynard’s Castle; their chaplains died in those town

houses and lie buried in the church. Derby House, now the College of

Heralds, was also in this parish, as was also Huntingdon House, the

residence of Lord Hastings.

The departure of the nobility from their City houses was perhaps one

cause of the cessation of the old connection of the country gentry

with the City. This departure also contributed to a very important

social change, viz. the fact that for a long time, now more than two

centuries, the Mayor, the Aldermen, the City officers, and the City

merchants have been socially and politically entirely out of touch

with the nobility. In the next century some of the effects of this

separation were greatly to be lamented. The seventeenth century,

however, furnishes one very remarkable illustration of the connection

between the City and the country gentry. It is also an illustration

of the way in which middle-class families went up and down. Early in

the seventeenth century, one Pepys, a country gentleman of no great

standing, married a girl of his own class whose sister married into

the Montagu family. One of his sons, a younger son, was sent to London

and entered into trade, but without conspicuous success. He became a

tailor, and he was of course first cousin to Sir Edward Montagu, his

mother’s nephew. One of his sons succeeded him in the business, the

other became Secretary of the Admiralty, and afterwards President of

the Royal Society; he is also the writer of the finest diary ever

committed to paper. Sir Edward Montagu became Lord Sandwich. In his

family there were therefore, all closely connected, Lord Sandwich, the

Chief Justice of Ireland, a Doctor of Divinity, a Member of Parliament,

the Secretary of the Admiralty, a serjeant-at-law, a hosteller, a

publican, a tobacconist, a butcher, a tailor, a weaver, a goldsmith,

and a turner. As yet, however, the rest of the _Note-book_ before us

shows a great number of persons in the City who had the right to call

themselves “Gentlemen” at a time when the title could not be assumed by

any who chose, and was not conferred lightly or at haphazard. Social

distinctions were much more strongly marked then than now. Although

the City contained no noble lords, it had Baronets, Knights, Esquires,

and Gentlemen. The Esquires were gentlemen of good estate, dignified

councillors at law, physicians, and holders of the King’s Commission,

holders of offices of importance. The eldest son of a Knight was an

Esquire by right; the eldest son of a Sheriff was also entitled to this

distinction. Pepys, when he received the appointment of Secretary to

the Admiralty, is addressed for the first time in his life, and greatly

to his delight, as Esquire. The title of Gentleman was more widely

claimed; the son of a gentleman was also a gentleman. A younger son,

however, could not call himself, or be called Esquire unless he had

some other qualification. It is not at all uncommon to find the word

“Gentleman” on a title-page after the name of the author. There are

complaints as to the illegal use of the title. The rank of gentleman

was conceded to attorneys, proctors, and notaries; but merchants,

however wealthy, artists, authors, surgeons, and tradesmen could obtain

no recognition of gentility on account of the nature of their work,

though by descent they might be gentlemen.

[Illustration: _Craven House, Drury Lane._

From contemporary print.]

[Illustration: South View of Arundel House in London 1646.

North View of Arundel House in London 1646.

From a print published by J. Thane, London, Feb. 1, 1792.]

The _Visitation of London_ (1633–1635), published in 1880 by the

Harleian Society, contains the genealogies and shields of over 900

City families. If we assume that these shields were honestly examined

and allowed, we have the very remarkable fact that in the seventeenth

century there were 900 City families within the walls of the City who

were descended from the country gentry, and had preserved proof of

their descent. The trade or calling of those whose names are given

in the genealogy does not always appear; the great majority seem to

be in trade of some kind. Thus we find Goldsmith, Draper, Grocer,

Fishmonger, Haberdasher, Mercer, Gentleman, Skinner, “of the Temple,”

Doctor of Physic, Merchant Tailor, Merchant, Doctor of Divinity,

Vintner, Barber, Surgeon, “of Clifford’s Inn,” Attorney in the office

of the Pleas on the Exchequer Court, Cordwayner, “Searcher and Trier

and Sealer of Madder,” Dyer, Scryvener, Sadler, “Silman to Prince

Charles,” Merchant of the Staple, “One of His Majesty’s Auditors,”

“One of the Commissioners for the Royal Navy,” “Surveyor of Customs,”

Joyner, Stationer, Brewer, etc. Here are enough to show that every

kind of trade was represented, but not every kind of craft. It is rare

to find a craft at all, and then the person concerned was evidently

an employer of working-men, a master craftsman. The names themselves

have quite lost the mediæval aspect which they presented in the wills

and memorials. There is hardly a name which might not belong to the

London Directory of the present year. The name of Pepys is among them,

but not that of Samuel, who was not yet born. “Yet I never thought we

were of much account,” he said thirty years afterwards. The family

came from South Creake, in the county of Norfolk. The name of Milton

is there, with a confusion of Mitton and Milton, but not the name of

John. As for the origin of these families, it was from every part of

the country. It is, however, noticeable that, whereas in the fourteenth

century the names of Mayor and Sheriffs in office were frequently—nay,

generally—those of men who came up from their fathers’ manors young, in

these lists most of them are London citizens of the second, third, and

fourth generations.

Referring to the lists in the “Stow” of 1633, the following Mayors have

marks of cadency on their arms. The arms, therefore, are not newly

granted but hereditary:—

“Adam Bamme, 1390. Ermine, on a chief indented, sable, two

trefoils, argent: an annulet for difference, being the mark of

cadency for a fifth son.

John Froyshe, 1394. A fess engrailed: an annulet.

Richard Whittington, 1397. A fess checky: an annulet.

Drew Barentyn, 1397. Three eagles, displayed: an annulet.

Ralf Jocelyn, 1464. Azure, a wreath, argent and sable, with four

bells, or: a mullet for difference, third son.

[Sir John] Young, 1466. Lozengy, two unicorns’ heads, erased, on a

bend: an annulet.

[Sir Thomas] Mirfine, 1518. Argent, a chevron sable: a mullet, and

in dexter chief a crescent: perhaps third son of a second son.

[Sir John] Bruges, 1520. Argent, a cross sable, a leopard’s face,

or: a crescent.

Dodmer, 1529. A crescent.

Lambert, 1531. An annulet.

Dormer, 1541. A crescent.

Amcoates, 1548. A crescent.

White, 1553. An annulet.

Curteis, 1557. A crescent.

[Sir Thomas] Rowe, 1568. A crescent.

Ducket, 1572. A mullet.

Harvey, 1581. A crescent.

Bond, 1587. A crescent, thereon a mullet.

Calthrop, 1588. A crescent.

[Sir William] Rowe, 1592. A crescent.

Some, 1598. A crescent.”

The following have quartered coats:—

“Chalton, 1449.

Clopton, 1491.

Bradbury, 1509.

Rudstone, 1528.

Amcoates, 1548, eight coats.

Jud, 1550.

Martin, 1567.

Heyward, 1570, six coats.

Ducket, 1572.

Woodroffe, 1579.

Branche, 1580.

Osborne, 1583, three coats.

Dixie, 1585.

Barne, 1586.

Calthrop, 1588, five coats.

Heyward, 1590.

Billingsley, 1596.

Mosley, 1599.

The following is the list in full already referred to, of the nobility

and gentry living in and about London in 1673. I have omitted those

names whose rank was lower than that of Baronet so as not to include

the City and law knights:—

Lord Berkeley of Berkeley Castle.

Lord Berkeley of Stratton.

Sir William Boyer, Bart.

The Earl of Bridgwater, Barbican.

Baron Brooke of Beauchampe Court and Hackney.

The Earl of Buckingham and Earl of Coventry.

The Earl of Burlington, Burlington House.

Clarenceaux, Knight at Arms.

The Viscount Campden, Kensington.

Sir Robert Carr, Bart.

Sir Nicholas Crisp, Bart.

Earl of Clare, Clare House, Drury Lane.

Earl of Clarendon.

Lord Clifford.

The Viscount Courtney, Clarendon Street.

Earl of Craven.

Sir John Cutler, Bart.

Earl of Devonshire, Devonshire Square.

Marquis of Dorchester, Charter-House Yard.

Earl of Dorset.

Sir Heneage Finch, Bart.

Sir Reginald Foster, Bart.

Sir F. Everard, Bart.

Lord Grey.

Sir Harbottle Grimston, Bart., Rolls.

Viscount Halifax.

Lord Hatton.

Sir William Hicks, Bart.

Earl of Holland.

Sir Francis Holles, Bart.

Sir James Langham, Bart.

Earl of Leicester.

Earl of Lindsay.

Sir Thomas Littleton, Bart.

Sir Philip Mathews.

Viscount Mordaunt.

The Earl of Mulgrave.

Sir Herbert Price, Bart.

The Earl of Salisbury, Salisbury House.

Sir John Shaw, Bart.

Sir William Smith, Bart.

Viscount Stafford.

The Earl of Thanet at Thanet House, Aldersgate Street.

Sir Robert Vyner, Bart.

The Earl of Warwick, Holborn.

Sir Jervis Whitchott, Bart.

Sir William Wild, Bart.

Sir Thomas Wolstenholme, Bart.

The Earl of Worcester, Worcester House.

The freedom from taxation of certain privileged classes was a fruitful

cause of quarrel and annoyance. Barristers who lived in the Four Inns

of Court and in Serjeant’s Inn were exempt from taxation on account

of chambers. The same privilege was extended to residents in Doctors’

Commons and residents in the precincts of Blackfriars and Whitefriars,

who were also exempt from fifteenths and from the burdens of watch

and ward, except charges for defence of the State, for pavement and

clearing within the precinct, and except freemen of the City, who

continued to be liable to the City charges.

A City office long discontinued was that of Chronologer. In the

_Analytical Index to Remembrancia_ (Guildhall) we have the following

notes:—

It may not be considered uninteresting to give a list of the names of

the different holders of this peculiar office, some of whom, as Thomas

Middleton, Ben Johnson, and Francis Quarles, are otherwise known to

fame, with some few particulars from the Civic Records concerning them.

1620, September 6, 18th James I.—Thomas Middleton, admitted City

Chronologer. Item, this day was read in Court (of Aldermen) a

petition of Thomas Middleton, Gent., and upon consideration thereof

taken, and upon the sufficient testimony this Court hath received of

his services performed to this City, this Court is well pleased to

entertain and admit the said Thomas Middleton to collect and set down

all memorable acts of this City and occurrences thereof, and for such

other employments as this Court shall have occasion to use him in;

but the said Thomas Middleton is not to put any of the acts so by him

to be collected into print without the allowance and approbation of

this Court, and for the readiness of his service to the City in the

same employments this Court does order that he shall receive from

henceforth, out of the Chamber of London, a yearly fee of £6:13:4.

1620, November 20, 18th James I.—His salary increased to £10 per annum.

1621, April 17, 19th James I.—A freedom granted to Thomas Middleton,

Chronologer and inventor of honourable entertainments for this City,

towards his expenses.

1622, May 7, 20th James I.—Another freedom granted to him for his

better encouragement in his labours.

1622, September 17, 20th James I.—£15 granted to him for the like.

1622 (3), February 6, 20th James I.—£20 granted to him.

1623, April 24, 21st James I.—One freedom granted to him.

1623, September 2, 21st James I.—Twenty marks given him for his

services at the shooting on Bunhill and at the Conduit Head before the

Lord Mayor and Aldermen.

1627, February 7, 3rd Charles I.—Twenty nobles given to his widow

Magdalen.

1628, September 2, 4th Charles I.—Item, this day Benjamin Johnson,

Gent., is by this Court admitted to be the City’s Chronologer in place

of Mr. Thomas Middleton, deceased, to have, hold, exercise, and enjoy

the same place, and to have and receive for that his service, out of

the Chamber of London, the sum of one hundred nobles per annum, to

continue during the pleasure of this Court.

1631, November 2, 7th Charles I.—Item, it is ordered by this Court

that Mr. Chamberlain shall forbear to pay any more fee or wages unto

Benjamin Johnson, the City’s Chronologer, until we shall have presented

unto this Court some fruits of his labours in that his place.

1634, September 18, 10th Charles I.—Item, this day Mr. Recorder and

Sir (Hugh) Hamersley, Knight, Alderman, declared unto this Court

His Majesty’s pleasure, signified unto them by the Right Hon. the

Earl of Dorset, for and in the behalf of Benjamin Johnson, the City

Chronologer, whereupon it is ordered by this Court that his yearly

pension of 100 nobles out of the Chamber of London shall be continued,

and that Mr. Chamberlain shall satisfy and pay unto him all arrearages

thereof.

1639, February 1, 15th Charles I.—At the request of the Right Hon. the

Earl of Dorset, signified by his letter, Francis Quarles, Gent., was

admitted Chronologer. with a fee of 100 nobles per annum, during the

pleasure of the Court.

1645, October 1, 20th Charles I.—Walter Frost, Esq., Sword-bearer,

admitted Chronologer, so long as he shall well demean himself therein

and present yearly something of his labours.

1660, February 28, 13th Charles II.—Captain John Burroughs admitted

City Chronologer, the place having been void for several years, his

salary to be 100 nobles per annum.

1668, November 23, 20th Charles II.—Upon the recommendation of a

Committee, the yearly payment of 100 nobles to one Bradshaw, called the

City Chronologer, was discontinued with the place, there appearing no

occasion for such an officer.

1669, February 24, 22nd Charles II.—On the petition of Cornewall

Bradshaw, Gent., late City Chronologer, for some recompense for his

salary of £33:6:8, taken from him by vote of the Court (Common

Council), it was ordered that, upon his resigning his said place, the

Chamberlain should pay him £100 in full of all claims.

1669, March 17, 22nd Charles II.—Bradshaw (admitted in the Mayoralty of

Sir T. Bludworth, 1665–6, as City Chronologer) surrendered his office,

with all its rights, etc., and a freedom was given to him (_Index to

Remembrancia_, pp. 305, 306).

Between 1583 and 1661 there were continual efforts made to restrain the

building of new houses in the City and the erection of small tenements.

The Lords of the Council pressed on the Mayor the duty of enforcing

the laws. The Mayor replied that there were many places in the City

that pretended to be exempt from the jurisdiction of the City; notably

the sites of the old monasteries. One result of this activity was the

driving of the poorer sort outside the City Liberties altogether,

especially along the river side. Owing to this cause Southwark began

to enjoy an influx of the least desirable of the population. This

distinction the Borough has ever since continued to possess. The same

cause built the courts and created the slums of Westminster.

[Illustration: Cornhill, London,

AS IT APPEARED ABOUT THE YEAR 1630.

From an engraving published by Boydell & Co., London.]

The attempt to restrain the increase of London should have been

accompanied by an enlargement of the City jurisdiction. Had this been

done, many of the evils attendant on a rapid growth of population with

no corresponding powers of justice and police might have been avoided.

The necessity of cleaning and keeping clean the streets was very much

to the front after the scare of the Plague and the Fire. There were

projects advanced by ingenious persons for this purpose. Thus one

Daniel Nis laid a plan before the King, who sent it on to the Lord

Mayor for consideration. He wanted, apparently, to raise the footpath

on either side to a “convenient height, evenness, and decency, leaving

ample passage for coaches, carts, and horses, and reserving a competent

part to be made even and easy in a far more elegant and commodious

manner for the convenience of foot passengers, besides a handsome

accommodation of water for the continual cleansing of the streets by

lead pipes.”

[Illustration: WATCHMAN

From a print published by John Watson, _temp._ Charles II.]

[Illustration: BELLMAN

From a rare woodcut, _temp._ James I.]

Daniel Nis was before his age, but one feels that when such projects

are in the air, reform and improvement are at hand. Unfortunately

projectors of this kind never understand the practical side of the

question. Now the streets of a great city cannot be revolutionised all

at once; no city is rich enough to undertake such a reform; the only

thing possible is a gradual reform, taking the most important streets

first. And this, in fact, was the way adopted in the City and carried

on from the Great Fire to our own time.

If we go into the unreformed streets we find the kites and crows

still acting as the principal scavengers, the bye-streets unpaved and

unlighted—that is to say, not yet even paved with cobbles, but left

quite untouched with puddles of liquid filth standing about; there were

also masterless dogs by the hundred who devoured the offal.

The regulations for the standing of carts were of very early date.

Standings were fixed in Tower Street and on Tower Hill in 1479. It must

be remembered that most of the streets in the City were too narrow for

the passage of wheeled vehicles; it was therefore necessary to regulate

the traffic in the streets wide enough for carts to pass. Such Acts

were passed and altered in 1586, 1605, 1654, 1658, 1661, 1665, 1667,

and 1681. The last Act for licensing and regulating carts was passed

in 1838. The Woodmongers’ Company at one time had the management of

the carts. In 1605, when Christ’s Hospital had charge of the carts, a

single cart was taxed 13s. 4d. a year, together with 4s. for quarterage

and no more. The whole number of carts allowed was 400, viz. 100 for

Southwark, 200 in the skirts of the City, and 100 in the wood wharves.

The watchmen carried bells, not rattles; they rang them as they went

along to announce their coming; the thieves in this way secured timely

warning and got themselves into safe hiding. But Cosmo, Duke of

Tuscany, who came here in 1669, says that the streets were orderly,

well lit by lanterns, and that the citizens were not afraid to go about

without swords.

Such squares as then existed, as Lincoln’s Inn Fields, had taken the

place of Smithfield as a place of public resort. They were now laid

out in three separate fields; these were surrounded by mulberry-trees.

It was a common complaint that in summer evenings after work was over

ballad singers stationed themselves at every street corner and bawled

their songs to an admiring and a listening crowd, that their songs were

coarse and lewd—perhaps it is the Puritan minister who complains,—and

that young girls stood among the audience listening and laughing.

In 1618 the chimney-sweepers sent a petition to Sir Robert Naunton

stating that householders generally neglected to get their chimneys

swept, to the great danger of fire and the starvation of their kind,

200 in number; and they prayed that the citizens might be compelled to

have their chimneys swept at proper times, and that an overseer should

be appointed to look after this duty. The Lord Mayor reported that it

was unnecessary to appoint another overseer, because there were already

officers annually sworn to inspect chimneys. So nothing more is heard

of the chimney-sweep and his grievances.

The subject of the City laystalls is unsavoury. But the removal of

waste matter is always a trouble in every town. In 1670 orders were

made for laystalls to be established at various points. It must be

understood that all kinds of rubbish, ordure, decaying vegetables,

etc., were shot out upon the laystall; when it was near the river the

contents were from time to time shovelled out into the ebb tide. The

following is the list of the laystalls as appointed in 1670:—

{Billingsgate Ward

{Bridge „

{Langbourn „

“(1) Dowgate Dock {Cornhill „

{Candlewick „

{Vintry „

{Walbrook „

{Dowgate „

{Portsoken Ward

{Tower „

(2) Mile End {Aldgate „

{Duke’s Place Ward

{Lyme Street „

(3) Holloway Lane End {Bishopsgate Within Ward

{ „ Without „

{Cripplegate Within and Without Ward

{Aldersgate Without Ward

(4) Bunhill Fields {Bassishaw „

{Coleman Street „

{Broad Street „

(5) Laystall at or near 3 Cranes {Cheap Ward

and in Dunghill Lane, near {Cordwainer Ward

Broken Wharf, till Key is {Queenhithe „

there laid open. Afterwards {Bread Street „

a Laystall at Puddle Dock

{Farringdon Within Ward

(6) Puddle Dock {Aldersgate Within „

{Castle Baynard „

{St. Martin’s le Grand Ward

(7) Whitefriars Farringdon Without Ward”

The Radical root-and-branch reformer is not unknown in every age. I

have before me a pamphlet written by such an one in the year 1675. It

will be seen that he advocates a thorough reform or rather a return to

the former conditions. I quote a portion only of the pamphlet. Among

other things the writer proposes—

(1) That a stop be put to any new buildings in London, or within

the bills of mortality.

(2) That the nobility and gentry of the country be compelled to

reside so many months in the year on their estates.

(3) That brandy, music, coffee, and tea be prohibited, and

coffee-houses suppressed.

(4) That the multitude of stage coaches and caravans now on the

roads be all, or most of them, suppressed.

(5) That a Court of Conscience should be established in Westminster

and in every important town.

(6) That the extravagant wages of craftsmen should be reduced. The

writer proceeds to advance his reasons for these proposals. For

instance, the abundance of new houses tempts people to come up from

the country in order to establish ale or brandy shops or to let

lodgings; it also tempts the gentry to leave their estates and to

live in London.

As to the prohibition of brandy, it is stated that brandy was so cheap,

a quartern being sold for threepence, that the people drink spirits

instead of strong beer and ale. (This is the first complaint of spirit

drinking.) Whereas, if the sale of brandy were prohibited, there would

be so great an increase in the consumption of barley required for beer

that the farmers would rise from their impoverished condition and be

once more able to pay their rents. “Brandy,” he says, “burns out the

hearts of his Majesty’s subjects.” It is not generally understood, I

think, that there were complaints on the subject of brandy before the

introduction of its cheaper and more destructive rival—gin.

He would suppress tea, coffee, and chocolate for the simple reason

that he does not understand that they do any good to anybody, and he

would shut the coffee-houses because he believes them to be mischievous

places:—

“And for coffee, tea, and chocolate, I know no good they do; only

the places where they are sold are convenient for persons to meet

in, sit half a day, and discourse with all companies that come

in, of state-matters, talking of news, and broaching of lies;

arraigning the judgments and discretions of their own governors,

censuring all their actions, and insinuating into the people a

prejudice against them; extolling and magnifying their own parts,

knowledge, and wisdom, and decrying that of their rulers, which, if

suffered too long, may prove pernicious and destructive. But say

there was nothing of this in the case, yet have these coffee-houses

done great mischiefs to the nation, and undone many of the king’s

subjects; for they, being very great enemies to diligence and

industry, have been the ruin of many serious and hopeful young

gentlemen and tradesmen, who, before they frequented these places,

were diligent students or shopkeepers, extraordinary husbands of

their time as well as money” (see also p. 292).

Granted a case against tea and coffee, what can be said against the

stage coach? A great deal. Stage coaches destroy the breed of good

horses, make men careless of horsemanship, and make them effeminate and

afraid of cold, rain, and snow (for further on this subject see p. 338).

The crime of crimping—that is, inveigling or forcing young fellows

to enter into service in the plantations—became very common in this

century. It caused trouble in many ways. First, a man was encouraged

to get drunk, and on recovering was told that he had enlisted, or he

was knocked on the head and carried aboard, or he voluntarily enlisted

and afterwards repented. In all these cases the victims complained on

reaching Virginia that they had been betrayed or trapped, and they sent

home sworn statements, with instructions to their friends, to indict

the merchants for crimping and ensnaring them.

These complaints became so numerous that rules were laid down for

the enrolment of these servants, and if the rules were obeyed, the

merchants were assured that there should be no prosecution:—

“I. Such servants as are to be taken by Indenture, to be executed

by the servant, in the presence of the magistrate or magistrates

hereafter appointed: one part thereof signed by such servant, and

also underwritten or endorsed with the name and handwriting of such

magistrate, which is to remain with the clerk of the Peace to be

renewed to the next sessions, there to be filed upon a distinct

file, and numbered and kept with the records.

II. The Clerk of the Peace is to keep a fair book, wherein the name

of the person so bound, and the magistrate’s name before whom the

same was done, and the time and place of doing thereof, and the

number of the file shall be entred; and for the more easie finding

the same, the entris are to be made alphabetically, according to

the first letter of the sirname.

III. All persons above the age of one and twenty years, or who

shall, upon view and examination, appear to be so in the judgment

of the magistrate, may be bound in the presence of one Justice of

the Peace, or of the Mayor or chief Magistrate of the place where

they shall go on shipboard, who is to be fully satisfied from him

of his free and voluntary agreement to enter into the said service.

IV. If any person be under the age of one and twenty years, or

shall appear to be so, he shall be bound in the presence of the

Lord Mayor of London, or one of the Judges, or an Alderman of

London, being a Justice of the Peace, or the Recorder, or two

Justices of the Peace of any other county or place, who shall

carefully examine whether the person so to be bound have any

parents or masters; and if he be not free they are not to take

such indenture, unless the parents or masters give their consents,

and some person that knows the said servant to be of the name and

addition mentioned in the indenture is to assist his said knowledge

upon the said indenture.

V. If the person be under the age of fourteen years, unless his

parents shall be present, and consent, he is not to be carried on

shipboard till a fortnight at least after he becomes bound, to the

intent that if there be any abuse, it may be discovered before he

is transported. And where his parents do not appear before the

magistrate, notice is to be sent to them; or where they cannot be

found, to the churchwardens, overseers of the parish where he was

last settled, in such manner as the said magistrates shall think

fit and direct.

And because Clerks of the Peace may conceive this not to be

any part of the duty of their office, and may therefore exact

unreasonable rewards for their trouble and pains therein, his

Majesty doth declare that if any merchants or other persons shall

be aggrieved thereby, and upon complaint to the Justices cannot

obtain relief, his Majesty will take such further care for their

ease herein, as in his royal wisdom he shall think meet.

And his Majestie’s further pleasure is, that this order be printed

and published, to the end all persons whom it may concern may take

notice thereof, and govern themselves accordingly.”

Here is a very curious note concerning a custom long since forgotten.

Before the discovery and importation of Indian nitre, saltpetre was

manufactured from animal matter. This stuff was piled in heaps,

protected from rain, and watered with stable runnings. Men called

saltpetre-men were employed in collecting earth thus impregnated,

and were by Act of Parliament (1624) authorised to dig up the floors

of stables and any other places where this saturated earth might be

found. So important was the manufacture that no dove-house or stable

was permitted to be paved. The appearance of the saltpetre-man and his

asserted right of digging up and carrying off the earth under stables

became a grievance, against which remonstrance was in vain so long

as the civil wars lasted. In 1656, however, it was enacted that no

saltpetre-man should dig without permission of the householder.

During the seventeenth century the ’prentices, as we have seen,

became of greater importance than ever; in the eighteenth their power

declined. For instance, when in 1643 it was feared that Charles would

march on the City, the ’prentices turned out in great force to fortify

the entrances and roads all round the City. Four years later they

turned out on strike, meeting in Covent Garden, then an open space, in

order to compel their masters to give them back the old holidays of

which the Puritans had deprived them. These were especially Christmas,

with its days of merriment and minstrelsy, Good Friday, Easter Monday,

and, I think, Whit Monday. Perhaps the Puritans had also deprived them

of Queen Elizabeth’s Day. On Shrove Tuesday the ’prentices demolished,

if they could find any, houses of ill fame. Their keepers were locked

up in prison during the whole of Lent. This zeal for virtue on the part

of the London ’prentice becomes a thing of suspicion when one reads

_The English Rogue_. Perhaps it was a custom ordered and maintained

by the masters. I conclude this chapter with the history of one of

them. It will be seen that the lot of a ’prentice was not always the

happiest or the most desirable. The following notes are taken from

the autobiography of one of them, a scrivener’s printer, named F.

K. To begin with, he was very fond of reading. While he was still a

boy he read _The Friar and the Boy_, _The Seven Wise men of Rome_,

_Fortunatus_, _Doctor Faustus_, _Friar Bacon_, _Montelion Knight of

the Oracle_, _Parismus_, _Palmerin of England_, _Amadis de Gaul_. The

boy procured the latter in French, and for the sake of reading it,

taught himself French, and made a French dictionary for himself. As

he could not afford to buy paper, he cut pages from the middle of the

other boys’ copybooks, and, being found out, received a very sound and

well-deserved flogging.

When he was sixteen he was apprenticed to a scrivener for eight years’

servitude, his father paying £30 and giving a bond for £100 as a

guarantee of the boy’s honesty.

His master had already two apprentices. It was the custom that the

youngest apprentice should do, so to speak, the dirty work; but in this

case the master had a son who was shortly afterwards apprenticed, and

should, in his turn, have taken the lowest place; but by right of his

position in the family he was spared this ignominy, and so the writer

continued the drudge of the whole household as long as he remained in

the house. Apart from his work in the shop, where he had to write out

deeds, conveyances, etc.,—the scrivener’s profession exercising much

the same functions as those now undertaken by the solicitor,—he says,

“I was to make clean the Shooes, carry out the Ashes and Dust, sweep

the Shop, cleanse the Sink, (and a long nasty one it was), draw the

Beer, at washing times to fetch up Coals and Kettles; these were the

within doors employs, and abroad I was to go of all errands, and carry

all burthens. I dispensed with all these matters, being told thereof

by my Father and Mother before I came, wherefore I was content, and

did undergo all very willingly, till I had served about three years,

and then being grown up to some maturity and understanding, I began to

grumble. I had Money given me which I always laid out in purchasing of

Books, especially such as treated of Knight Errantry, or else in buying

somewhat to make me fine, and Money coming in pretty plentiful, I had

bought me a very good Suit of Cloaths to wear by the by; and withal,

being desirous to appear in everything like a gentleman, I had a Watch

for my Pocket; being thus accoutred, I sometimes went abroad with our

Neighbour Apprentices and others, and being thus fine, it troubled me

that I must still carry Burthens, for whoever went empty, my Mistress

would still take care that I had my Load to carry Working-day and

Sunday from our London to our Countrey-house, and rather than I should

want a Burthen, I was to carry earthen Pots and Pans and Ox Livers, and

Bones for the Dog. This I grumbled at, and when I have bin seriously

a drawing Writings in the Shop and studying and contriving how to

order my Covenants the best way, a greasy Kitchin-wench would come and

disturb me with one of her Errants, and tell me I must fetch a farthing

worth of Mustard, or a pint of Vinegar, or some such mechanical story;

nay, my Mistress hath sent me for a Pint of Purl, which when she hath

warmed and tasted of, and not liked, I must carry it again to change

it. And I being the youngest Apprentice was to be commanded by every

one; the two eldest would appoint what I was to do in the Shop, and the

Kitchin-wench would, when she pleased, command me into the Kitchin, so

that I must be here and there and everywhere; and above all things,

I must humor and please the Maid, or else she would pick Holes in my

Coat, and tell Tales of me to my Mistress, who would not let me live a

quiet hour” (_The Unlucky Citizen_, pp. 35–37).

Presently, having served for three years, and being now nineteen years

of age, he complained to his father:—

“But I was little the better for it; for no sooner was I come into

my Master’s House, but he seeing me, enters his Closet, from whence

fetches a lusty Battoon Cane (the ordinary Weapon with which I was used

to be disciplined), and without by your leave, or with your Leave, he

takes me by the hand, and lifting up his Sword Arm like a Fencer, he

gives me a lusty Thwack over the Shoulders, and without any warning

given, not so much as the least word of Defyance, that I might know

his anger, or the cause of it, he follows that blow by a second and a

third, and many more, so fast and so long as he could lay on, till he,

being out of breath, was forced to give over, and then so soon as he

had recovered the use of his Tongue, he thus breaks silence, ‘Sirrah,

I’le teach you to run and make complaints to your Father.’ I now having

heard him speak, knew whereabouts he was, but methought the News was

strange and sudden, and somewhat I began to mutter, but my Tale would

not be heard; he prosecuted his business with the Second Part to the

same Tune, both upon my Sides and Shoulders till he was again weary,

and then there being a cessation of Arms, down I sate me, not daring to

speak a word; but though I said nothing, yet I paid it with thinking,

but all to little purpose; he was Master, and I found so he would

continue” (_The Unlucky Citizen_, pp. 43, 44).

A master at that time had a perfect right to beat his servants; nor

does the writer complain, except that there was, perhaps, too much laid

on. It will be remembered that the wife of Pepys caned her maids. F.

K., however, does point out the vile treatment of apprentices by some

of their masters, and their advantage in it:—

“And let me tell you that I have observed and known that some Citizens

have much encreased their Estates by taking many Apprentices, for

perhaps having fifty pounds or more with an Apprentice, and being very

severe and rigid, the boy hath been so hardly used, that he hath run

away within a year, and rather than return again, lose all his Money.

I knew one that served eight so, one after another, and in three or

four years, by this means, gained four hundred pounds for their diet,

which they likewise earned, causing them to work like Porters, so that

I think they paid dear enough for it; they had been better to have been

boarded at the costliest Boarding-school in England; and besides the

loss of the Money, there was a worse inconvenience, for the Apprentice

hath been quite spoiled, so harassed and frighted, that he hath not

been fit for any other service, and for the sake of his first Master,

would not be perswaded to go to any other” (_The Unlucky Citizen_, pp.

144, 145).

After being taken from this master and transferred to another, who

turned him out of the house for betraying confidence, F. K. was set

up in business by his father, opening a small scrivener’s shop on

Tower Hill. If his bad luck through life was like his bad luck as an

apprentice, it was due to his own folly and stupidity. For instance,

he says that he was arrested a few days after he was married, for his

wedding clothes. Why, then, did he not pay for them? And so on. But we

need not follow the _Unlucky Citizen_ any farther.

The Sumptuary Laws against Apprentices so stringently enacted in the

preceding century were still in force, and a youth who dared to array

himself in finery other than befitted his craft, ran the risk of being

forcibly despoiled of his ribbons and adornments and being reduced to a

severe simplicity of apparel.

Here is a glimpse of life furnished by Howell when he placed his two

younger brothers apprentices in the City:—

“Our two younger Brothers, which you sent hither, are disposed of;

my Brother Doctor hath placed the elder of the two with Mr. Hawes,

a Mercer in Cheapside, and he took much Pains in it; and I had

placed my Brother Ned with Mr. Barrington, a Silk-man in the same

Street; but afterwards, for some inconveniences, I removed him to

one Mr. Smith, at the Flower de luce in Lombard Street, a Mercer

also. Their Masters both of them are very well to pass, and of good

repute; I think it will prove some advantage to them hereafter

to be both of one Trade; because, when they are out of their time,

they may join Stocks together; so that I hope they are as well

placed as any two Youths in London; but you must not use to send

them such large Tokens in Money, for that may corrupt them. When I

went to bind my brother Ned Apprentice in Drapers-Hall, casting my

eyes upon the Chimney-piece of the great Room, I spied a Picture

of an ancient Gentlemen, and underneath _Thomas_ Howell; I asked

the Clerk about him, and he told me that he was a Spanish Merchant

in Henry VIII.’s time, and coming home rich, and dying a Batchelor,

he gave that Hall to the Company of Drapers, with other things, so

that he is accounted one of the chiefest Benefactors. I told the

Clerk, that one of the Sons of Thomas Howell came now thither to

be bound; he answered, that if he be a right Howell, he may have,

when he is free, three hundred Pounds to help set up, and pay no

interest for five years. It may be hereafter we will make use of

this. He told me also, that any Maid that can prove her Father

to be a true Howell may come and demand Fifty pounds towards her

portion, of the said Hall.”

[Illustration: THE APPRENTICES’ ENFORCED TOILET

By permission of the Artist, Ralph Hedley, R.S.A., and of the Owner,

W. F. Henderson.]

CHAPTER VI

TRADE

The chapter on trade under the Stuarts may be introduced by certain

extracts from a paper written by Sir Walter Raleigh early in the

seventeenth century. It was called “Observations on Trade and

Commerce,” in which he compares the Dutch trade and Dutch merchants

with our own, very much to our disadvantage. The following, he says,

are the seven points in which the Dutch surpass us:—

“1. The Merchant Staplers which maketh all Things in abundance, by

reason of their Store-houses continually replenished with all kinds

of Commodities.

2. The Liberty of free Traffick for Strangers to buy and sell in

Holland, and other Countries and States, as if they were free-born,

maketh great intercourse.

3. The small Duties levied upon Merchants, draws all Nations to

trade with them.

4. Their fashioned ships continually freighted before ours, by

reason of their few Mariners and great Bulk, serving the Merchant

cheap.

5. Their forwardness to further all manner of Trading.

6. Their wonderful employment of their Busses for Fishing, and the

great Returns they make.

7. Their giving free Custom inwards and outwards, for any

new-erected Trade, by Means whereof they have gotten already almost

the sole Trade into their hands.”

“Thus,” he goes on, “as regards the storing of merchandize,

Amsterdam is never without a supply of 700,000 quarters of corn,

which they keep always ready besides what they sell; and the like

with other commodities, so that if a Dearth of Fish, wine, grain,

or anything else begins in the country, forthwith the Dutch are

ready with fifty or a hundred ships dispersing themselves at every

‘Port-Town’ in England, trading away their cargoes and carrying off

English gold. Moreover, the Dutch have in their hands the greater

part of the carrying trade of France, Portugal, Spain, Italy,

Turkey, the East Indies, and the West Indies. Yet London is a much

more convenient port for a store-house and for the carrying trade

if our merchants would but bend their course for it.”

As for small duties in foreign countries compared with the excessive

customs in ours. James, it will be remembered, relied on his Customs

duties, which were heavy, thereby keeping off foreign trade. In Holland

the Customs duties were so much lighter that a ship which would pay

£900 in the port of London could be cleared at Amsterdam for £50.

Raleigh points out that what is lost by lowering the duties is more

than made up by the increase of trade when the duties are low. He

advocates Free Trade, observe, long before that innovation was thought

of.

By the “fashion” of the ships he means the Dutch merchant vessels

called “Boyers, Hoy-barks, and Hoys,” constructed to contain a great

bulk of merchandise and to sail with a small crew. Thus an English ship

of 200 tons required a crew of thirty hands, while a ship of the same

tonnage built in Holland wanted no more than nine or ten mariners.

[Illustration]

{Transcription:

CUSTOM HOUSE

_The_ Custom House _for the Port of_ London, _or Grand Office for

the Management not only of the Affairs relating to y^e Exports

and Imports of the Opulent City, but of the_ Customs _throughout_

England _according to the Regulations of Parliament. It was

built by_ K. Charles _the_ 2^d. Anno _1668, at the Expence of

above 10,000 Pounds, the former House being—consumed by the

Fire of_ London. _It is a large and gracefull Building, fronting

the Water side, very Comodious as well for the Commissioners and

the several Officers and Clerks above Stairs, as the Ware houses

underneath,—and the Cranes for Landing and Lading the Merch^{nts).

Goods.—&c._}

Then, again, as to their “forwardness” in trading. In one year and a

half the merchants of Holland, Hamburg, and Emden carried off from

Southampton, Exeter, and Bristol alone near £200,000 in gold. And

perhaps £2,000,000, taking the whole of the kingdom into account. The

Dutch alone sent 500 or 600 ships every year to England, while we sent

but thirty to Holland.

A warning and an example is presented by the fallen and decayed

condition of Genoa. Formerly this city was the most prosperous of all

trading cities. All nations traded there; but in an evil moment Genoa

declared a Customs duty of 10 per cent, which caused the whole of

her trade to vanish. Why, again, Raleigh asks, do we not secure for

ourselves the magnificent fisheries which lie off our shores? In four

towns within the Sound are sold every year between 30,000 and 40,000

casts of herrings, representing £620,000. In Denmark, Norway, Sweden,

etc., are sold our herrings, caught on our shores, to the amount of

£170,000. This fishery represents over a million sterling in addition

to all this. They are herrings caught off our shores, and yet we have

no share in this great trade.

The Dutch employ a thousand ships in carrying salt to the East

Kingdoms; we none. They have 600 ships in the timber trade; we none;

they send into the East Kingdoms 3000 ships every year; we 100 only.

They carry goods from the East Kingdoms to France, Spain, Portugal, and

Italy in 2000 ships; we have none in that trade. They trade to all the

ports of France; we to five or six only. They trade with every one of

our ports—with 600 ships; we with three only of these ports, and but

forty ships.

[Illustration: THE SOVERAIGNE OF THE SEAS, BUILT 1637

From a contemporary engraving by John Payne.]

We neglect to take advantage of what we have. For instance, we send to

Holland our cloth undressed; we let them take, for purposes of trade,

our iron, our coal, our copper, lead, tin, alum, copperas, and other

things on which we might employ thousands of people, and this country,

which produces nothing, is enriched by carrying commodities about the

world.

The arguments of Raleigh in favour of taking up the fisheries appear

elementary. He thus sums up the advantages:—

“1. For taking God’s blessing out of the Sea to enrich the Realm,

which otherwise we lose.

2. For setting the People on work.

3. For making Plenty of Cheapness in the Realm.

4. For increasing of Shipping, to make the Land powerful.

5. For a continual Nursery for breeding and increasing our Mariners.

6. For making employment of all Sorts of People, as blind, lame,

and others, by Sea and Land, from ten or twelve years and upwards.

7. For inriching your Majesty’s Coffers, by Merchandises returned

from other Countries for Fish and Herrings.

8. For the increase and enabling of Merchants, which now droop and

daily decay.”

The trade of London during the first half of the seventeenth century

decayed. The decay was due partly to the monopoly of the privileged

companies, which stifled or discouraged enterprise; partly to the

civil wars; partly to the Customs duties; and partly, it would seem,

to a falling off in the vigour and enterprise which had marked the

Elizabethan period. In trade, as in everything, there are times of

reaction and of torpor. Meantime, in spite of everything, foreign trade

increased. But Raleigh’s comparison between the trade of Holland and

that of London shows how small our foreign trade was, in comparison

with the vast bulk carried on by the Dutch.

After Sir Walter Raleigh’s “observations” let me quote Howell on the

profession or calling of the merchant:—

“For my part I do not know any profession of Life (especially in

an Island) more to be cherished and countenanced with honourable

employments than the Merchant-Adventurer (I do not mean only

the staplers of Hamburgh and Rotterdam); for if valiant and

dangerous actions do enoble a Man, and make him merit, surely the

Merchant-Adventurer deserves more Honour than any; for he is to

encounter not only with Men of all Tempers and Humours (as a French

Counsellor hath it), but he contests and tugs oft-time with all the

Elements; nor do I see how some of our Country Squires, who sell

Calves and Runts, and their Wives perhaps Cheese and Apples, should

be held more genteel than the noble Merchant-Adventurer who sells

Silks and Satins, Tissues and Cloths of Gold, Diamonds and Pearl,

with Silver and Gold.”

In the year 1606 James made an attempt to introduce the breeding of

silkworms. He sent mulberry-trees into the country with instructions

for the feeding of the worms. There was a certain amount of

English-grown silk manufactured, as is shown by an entry in Thoresby’s

_Diary_. “Saw at Mr. Gale’s a sample of the satin lately made at

Chelsea of English silkworms, for the Princess of Wales, which was very

rich and beautiful.” The experiment proved unsuccessful, yet it caused

the immigration of a great number of silk throwsters, weavers, and

dyers, who settled here and entered upon the silk trade in London. The

raw silk was brought from India and China by the East India Company.

A table of imports from India in 1620 gives the most astonishing

difference between the cost in India and the selling price in London

(see Capper, _Port and Trade of London_, p. 82):—

+---------------------+--------------------------+---------------------------+

| Imports, 1620. | Cost on Board Ship | Selling Prices in London. |

| | in India. | |

+---------------------+---------+----------------+---------+-----------------+

| |_s._ _d._| £ _s._ _d._|_s._ _d._| £ _s._ _d._|

|250,000 lbs. Pepper | 0 2-1/2| 2,604 3 4 | 1 8 | 20,833 6 8 |

|150,000 lbs. Cloves | 0 9 | 5,625 0 0 | 6 0 | 45,000 0 0 |

|150,000 lbs. Nutmegs | 0 4 | 2,500 0 0 | 2 6 | 18,750 0 0 |

| 50,000 lbs. Mace | 0 8 | 1,666 13 4 | 6 0 | 15,000 0 0 |

|200,000 lbs. Indigo | 1 2 |11,666 13 4 | 5 0 | 50,000 0 0 |

|107,140 lbs. China | | | | |

| Raw Silk| 7 0 |37,499 0 0 | 20 0 |107,140 0 0 |

| 50,000 pieces Calico| 7 0 |17,500 0 0 | 20 0 | 50,000 0 0 |

| | +----------------+ +-----------------+

| | |79,061 10 0 | |306,723 6 8 |

+---------------------+---------+----------------+---------+-----------------+

In 1620 the East India Company established themselves at Madras, where

they had a trade in diamonds, muslin, and chintzes in return for

English or European goods. They had in their service 2500 mariners, 500

ship carpenters, and 120 factors.

The story of Cockaine’s patent should be (but it was not) a lesson in

Free Trade. It was this man’s custom to send white cloth from England

to Holland to be dyed and dressed, and then sent back for sale.

Alderman Cockaine proposed to the King to do the dyeing and dressing

himself if he had a patent. He represented that the whole profit made

by the Dutch would be saved by this arrangement. The King consented;

he prohibited the exportation of white cloth to Holland, and seized

the charter of the Merchant Adventurers which allowed them to export

it. The Dutch naturally retaliated by prohibiting the importation of

English dye cloths. It was then discovered that Cockaine could not do

what he proposed to do; his cloths were worse dyed and were dearer than

those dyed by the Dutch. After seven years of complaints over this

business, the patent was removed and the charter restored.

The following is a statement of the trade of England at this time:—

“We trade to Naples, Genoa, Leghorn, Marseilles, Malaga, etc., with

only twenty ships, chiefly herrings, and thirty sail more laden

with pipes-staves from Ireland.

To Portugal and Andalusia we sent twenty ships for wines, sugar,

fruit, and West Indian drugs.

To Bordeaux we send sixty ships and barks for wines.

To Hamburgh and Middleburgh, thirty-five ships are sent by our

Merchant Adventurers’ Company.

To Dantzic, Koningsburg, etc., we send yearly about thirty ships,

viz. six from London, six from Ipswich, and the rest from Hull,

Lynn, and Newcastle, but the Dutch many more.

To Norway we send not above five ships, and the Dutch above forty,

and great ships too.

Our Newcastle coal trade employs 400 sail of ships; viz. 200 for

supplying of London, and 200 for the rest of England.

And besides our own ships, hither, even to the mine’s mouth,

come all our neighbouring nations with their ships continually,

employing their own shipping and mariners. I doubt not whether, if

they had such a treasure, they would employ not their own shipping

solely therein. The French sail thither in whole fleets of fifty

sail together, serving all their ports of Picardie, Normandie,

Bretagne, etc., even as far as Rochel and Bordeaux. And the ships

of Bremen, Emden, Holland, and Zealand supply those of Flanders,

etc., whose shipping is not great, with our coals.

Our Iceland fishery employs 120 ships and barks of our own.

And the Newfoundland fishery 150 small ships.

And our Greenland whale fishery fourteen ships.

As for the Bermudas, we know not yet what they will do; and for

Virginia, we know not what to do with it; the present profit of

these two colonies not employing any store of shipping” (Capper, p.

84).

The completion of the New River in 1620 was a great boon and blessing

to the people, but the greatest benefit to trade in the reign of James

I. was the improvement of the navigation of the upper part of the

Thames by deepening the channel, so that not only was Oxford placed in

communication with London, but the country all round Oxford.

The granting of monopolies was an interference with trade which

would now cause a revolution. There were many complaints. Parliament

declared that all monopolies were void. That was under James. Charles

began, notwithstanding, to sell monopolies to whomsoever would pay

him most for them. Thus the importation of alum was prohibited, for

the protection of the alum works of Whitby; also brick-making, the

manufacture of saltpetre, of tapestry, the coining of farthings, the

making of steel, the making of stone pots and jugs, making guns,

melting iron ore, and many other things. More than this, Charles made

the sale of tobacco a royal monopoly; he forbade the infant colony of

Virginia to sell tobacco to any foreign state; he levied a duty of

four shillings a chaldron on all coal exported to foreign parts; and

he actually endeavoured to establish a malting and a brewing monopoly.

When we read the historian on the despotic acts of Charles and his

attempts on the liberties of his people, let us bear in mind the

constant exasperations of these interferences with trade—that is, with

the livelihood of the people. When at last he became awakened to the

danger of the position, he revoked all their “grants, licences, and

privileges”; but it was then too late—revolution had already arisen.

Shops which had been open stalls confined to one or two markets in

London, such as East and West Chepe, began, towards the end of the

sixteenth century and early in the seventeenth, to appear along Fleet

Street, the Strand, and in King Street, Westminster. Haberdashers,

milliners, woollen drapers, cutlers, upholsterers, glassmen, perfumers,

and others established themselves everywhere, making so brave a show

every day, that, as Stow complains, “the people of London began

to expend extravagantly.” There were offered, among other wares,

“French and Spanish gloves, and French cloth or frigarde (frieze),

Flanders-dyed kersies, daggers, swords, knives, Spanish girdles,

painted cruses, dials, tables, cards, balls, glasses, fine earthen

pots, salt-cellars, spoons, tin dishes, puppets, pennons, ink-horns,

toothpicks, silk, and silver buttons. All which ‘made such a show in

passengers’ eyes, that they could not help gazing on and buying these

knicknacks.’ This great offence a contemporary writer, quoted by Stow,

bitterly apostrophises. He ‘marvels’ that ‘no man taketh heed to it

what number of trifles cometh hither from beyond the seas, that we

might either clean spare, or else make them within our own realm;

for the which we either pay inestimable treasure every year, or else

exchange substantial wares and necessaries for them, for the which we

might receive great treasure.”

There had then arisen outside the City a new class, and one which was

becoming wealthy and important, namely, the suburban shopkeepers. They

were certainly not a class that Charles could afford to exasperate. But

apparently he never asked himself how far it was prudent to exasperate

any class. Thus, in the blindness of his wrath against the Puritans,

whose emigration was the best thing that could happen to him, he

forbade them to emigrate without a certificate of having taken the

oath of allegiance and supremacy, and likewise from the minister of

their parish a certificate of their conversation and conformity to the

orders and discipline of the Church of England. He therefore did what

he could to preserve his own enemies in his kingdom, and to increase

their hostility. Again, he ordered that the Weavers’ Company should

admit to its freedom none but members of the Church of England. He even

interfered with trade to the extent of trading on his own account,

on one occasion buying up all the pepper imported by the East India

Company and selling it again at a profit.

The foundation of the banking business is said to date from the

outbreak of the Civil War; perhaps it was partly due to that event.

Banking was impossible in earlier times for several reasons: there was

no system of commercial credit; there were no bank-notes; goods were

bought or sold for actual coin; there was no Exchange; when men went

abroad or came home, they had to take their foreign money to the Mint

for re-coinage, or they had to get foreign money at the Mint; there was

no recognised system of lending or borrowing; if a man borrowed money

he did so as a special occasion and for a special purpose, and paid a

large interest for the accommodation. The money-lenders were the Jews

first, who carried on the trade as a Royal monopoly, followed by the

Lombards, who came as the agents of Papal taxation; and afterwards the

London merchants and goldsmiths.

When the Civil War broke out it became a serious consideration with the

merchants to place their money in some place of security. The Mint,

their former place of deposit, could not be trusted because Charles

had already seized upon £200,000 belonging to merchants, and placed

there for safety; their own strong rooms would not do, because if the

City fell into the hands of the Royalists, the strong room would most

certainly be plundered first.[8] They therefore began to lodge

their cash in the hands of goldsmiths, keeping what was called a

“running cash” account. They probably thought that in case of need the

goldsmiths could take their money and plate abroad. Country gentlemen

also began to send their money up to London for greater security. This

method was found so convenient that banking quickly spread and the

bankers began to flourish. During the Commonwealth one Henry Robinson

proposed the establishment of a “Land Bank,” with branches in the

country to lend money upon mortgage, the payments to be by paper.

[Illustration: THE FIRST ROYAL EXCHANGE—EXTERIOR AND INTERIOR]

The wars with the Dutch and the extraordinary developments of French

industries caused our imports to vastly exceed our exports; every

maid-servant, it was said, paid the French King half her wages; when

peace came and trade was recovering, the madness of Charles II. in

closing the Exchequer paralysed and ruined the City for a while. Never

did monarch inflict a blow so cruel upon his people. And never did the

Stuarts recover the confidence which this measure lost them.

The Plague of 1665, followed by the Fire, proved, as might be expected,

a temporary check to the prosperity of the City. But the people kept up

their courage.

After the Fire there was built, in place of Gresham’s Exchange, which

had been burned, a new Royal Exchange of which the first stone was laid

by King Charles II.

The increase of trade, although petty trade, in the West was recognised

in the foundation of the New Exchange, an institution which has been

mostly overlooked by historians.

“This building was erected by Robert, Earl of Salisbury, somewhat after

the shape of the Royal Exchange, having cellars underneath and paved

walks above with rows of shops. The first stone was laid on the 10th of

June 1608. It was opened by King James I., April 10th, 1609, who came

attended by the Queen, the Duke of York, the Lady Elizabeth, and many

great lords and ladies, but it was not successful” (_Stow_).

“In the Strand on the N. side of Durham House stood an olde long

stable, the outer wall whereof on the street side was very olde and

ruinate, all which was taken down and a stately building sodainely

erected in the place by Robert, E. of Salisbury, Lord High Treasurer

of England. The first stone of this beautiful building was laid the

10th of June last past, and was fully finished in November following.

And on Tuesday, the 10th April, the year (1609), many of the upper

shoppes were richly furnished with wares, and the next day after that,

the King, Queen and Prince, the Lady Elizabeth and the D. of York,

with many great Lordes and chief ladies, came thither, and were there

entertained with pleasant speeches, gifts, and ingenious devices:

there the King gave it a name and called it Britain’s Burse” (Nich.,

_Progresses_, vol. ii. p. 248).

The exports and the imports of London during fifty years of this

century are thus tabulated. It will be seen that they show a steady

increase in the bulk of trade:—

Exports. Imports.

1614 2,090,640 2,141,283

1622 2,320,436 2,619,315

1663 2,022,812 4,016,019

1669 2,063,274 4,196,139

The prosperity of the country was shown by the contemporary writers

to have been advancing steadily and rapidly, in spite of the civil

wars, the Dutch wars, the pestilence which on five separate occasions

devastated the country and the City, and the Great Fire which destroyed

all the “Stock” of the merchants. Sir William Petty (1676) observes

that the number of houses in London was double that of 1636, and that

there had been a great increase of houses in many towns of the United

Kingdom, that the Royal Navy was four times as powerful as in later

years, that the coal trade of Newcastle had quadrupled, the Customs

yielded three times their former value, that more than 40,000 tons

of shipping were employed in the Guinea and American trade, that

the King’s revenue was trebled, and that the postage of letters had

increased from one to twenty.

Davenant also (1698) speaks twenty years later to the same effect. He

shows that the value of land had risen from twelve years’ purchase in

former times to fourteen, sixteen, and twenty years’ purchase in 1666;

and by the end of the century to twenty-six or even more; that great

quantities of waste land had been enclosed and cultivated; that the

merchant marine had doubled between 1666 and 1688; that many noble

buildings had been erected; that the Customs duties had increased

in twenty years by a third; that the standard of comfort among the

working-classes was greatly improved; and that property in cattle,

stock-in-trade, and personal effects had risen from £17,000,000 in 1600

to £88,000,000 in 1688.

As already mentioned, the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes brought

to this country some 70,000 of the most highly skilled artificers.