CHAPTER IX

SOCIAL LIFE

Let us pass on to consider the daily life of the people. To begin with,

they were a busy people; there were no idle men: everybody followed

some pursuit; there were the wholesale merchants, the retailers, and

the craftsmen. I have submitted a rough division of London streets

into belts. In thinking of the aspect of the City, understand that

there were no shops in the streets at all; nor was there any crying of

things up and down the streets. All the retail trade was carried on in

the markets, West Chepe and East Chepe, and the wholesale trade was

conducted in Thames Street beside the quays and the warehouses.

The markets were, first, Billingsgate for fish, salt, onions, other

fruits and roots, wheat and all kinds of grain; every great ship paid

for “standage” twopence; every small ship one penny; a lesser ship one

penny; a lesser boat a halfpenny; for every two quarters of corn the

King was to have one farthing; on a comb of corn, one penny; on every

tun of ale going out of England, fourpence; on every thousand herrings,

a farthing, etc. Queenhithe, or Edred’s Hithe, was probably of later

date than Billingsgate.

London had already among her inhabitants many merchants of foreign

descent; they came from Caen and from Rouen, from Germany and from

Flanders. The “Emperor’s Men” had already set up their steelyard and

begun to trade within walls of their own, protected by strong gates,

and possessed of extensive privileges. The men of Lubeck, Hamburg,

and the Flemings, who did not belong to the “Gildhalla Teutonicorum,”

also set up their fortified trading-houses. I do not suppose that the

connection which was afterwards established between London and the

country gentry had yet been established; indeed it is impossible,

seeing that most of the manors of England had been granted to the

Norman followers of King William, and as yet these new masters of the

soil were in no sense English. But, as we have seen, many of the nobles

already had their town houses in London.

In the “Dialogus Scaccario,” printed in full in Madox’s _History of

the Exchequer_, and in Stubbs’s _Select Charters_, there is a most

valuable passage on the fusion of the Normans and the English. It is as

follows:—

“In the early condition of the Kingdom after the Conquest, those who

were left of the subject English used to lay snares secretly against

the race of Normans suspected and hateful to them: here and there,

wherever the chance offered, they murdered Normans in their forests

and remote places, in punishment for which, when the Kings and their

ministers for several years raged against the English with exquisite

modes of torture, yet found that they would not wholly desist, it

was at length resolved that the Hundred in which a Norman was found

murdered, if the murderer was not discovered or took to flight,

should be condemned to pay a large sum of money, sometimes as much as

thirty-six or even forty-three pounds, according to the character of

the place and the frequency of the crime....”

“Now, however, the English and the Normans living together and

intermarrying with each other, the two nations are so mixed that it is

difficult to distinguish, among free men, who is English and who is

Norman by descent.”

The fusion of the races was more easy in London than in the country,

partly because the Normans had already been settled in the place and

were carrying on the very considerable trade which existed with Rouen,

Caen, and other northern ports: partly, because there was no rankling

sense of injury, such as that which filled the hearts of dispossessed

Saxon Thanes. The Norman king kept his word with London; he oppressed

no citizen; he deprived no citizen of his property. Moreover, the

Normans appear to have taken the lead in many things. Their superior

refinement has been somewhat exaggerated, especially when we read of

the accomplishments and the learning of the Anglo-Saxon ladies. But

there can be no doubt that they introduced habits of temperance in

the matter of strong drink. The Norman merchant was held in honour

by the Norman knight, and the Norman noble had his town house in

the City. Young Thomas Becket was a friend of Richer de l’Aigle of

Pevensey; ecclesiastical dignitaries were his father’s guests; and in

the chapter which follows on a Norman family, we shall see how they

intermarried—Saxon and Norman, noble and burgher.

[Illustration: BUILDING A HOUSE

Claud MS. B. IV. (11th Century).]

FitzStephen’s account, though most interesting, leaves out a great many

things which we should like to know. He brings before our eyes a city

cheerful and busy: the young people delighting in games of all kinds,

especially archery, wrestling, mock fights, skating; he shows us a

place of great plenty and containing within its walls as much freedom

and as much happiness as any mediæval city could expect; he shows us

the craftsmen living each in his own quarters; he shows us the monastic

houses and the schools of children; he shows us a town in which all

went well so long, he says, with significance, as there was a good

king. Now the Norman kings were not without their faults, but one thing

must be allowed them,—they were strong kings, and at this time and

for many centuries to come, London wanted above all things a strong

king, and if you look back at history you will find that a strong

king meant a just king. In fact, though we are as yet far off from an

ideal London, FitzStephen makes us understand that the people already

possessed in Norman London an amount of liberty which was greater than

that enjoyed by any city of France or Spain, and equal probably to that

enjoyed by the people of Ghent and Bruges.

[Illustration: A FAMILY GROUP

Claud MS., B. 4. (11th cent.).]

London has always been a City of great plenty. As yet the stretches of

foreshore and marsh all down the river were uninhabited, as most of

them remain to the present day. All these marshes abounded with birds

innumerable: the river was full of fish—fish of all kinds; the supplies

of cattle and of sheep and swine came from the meadows belonging to

Westminster Abbey, and from the farms of Middlesex. The forest of

Middlesex, which began at Islington, stretched north over an extensive

tract; the forest of Essex was a continuation to the east, covering

what were afterwards Epping and Hainault Forests; the villages of Essex

and Middlesex were clearings in the forest. I suppose that the people

bred horses, cattle, sheep, and pigs for the London markets.

If the north part of London, where the craftsmen worked, was

picturesque with the cottages among the trees, the south part was also

picturesque, for the houses of the merchants were there, each with its

hall and its garden. Churches stood everywhere. Most of them were quite

small, plain village churches; here and there a Saxon church, like

that at Bradford on Avon, narrow and dark, no glass in the windows,

no pavement on the floor; and down the narrow lanes we could watch

the river with the ships going up and down, the Yeo heave Ho! of the

outward-bound, and the hymn to the Virgin for safety on the voyage

from those who worked their way up with the flood tide to deep anchor

below the bridge.

As for the people of the City, I venture to quote my own words from

another book (_London_, p. 68):—

“It is an evening in May. What means this procession? Here comes a

sturdy rogue marching along valiantly, blowing pipe and beating tabor.

After him, a rabble rout of lads and young men, wearing flowers in

their caps, and bearing branches and singing lustily.

The workman jumps up and shouts as they go past; the priest and the

friar laugh and shout; the girls, gathering together, as is the

maidens’ way, laugh and clap their hands. The young men sing as they

go and dance as they sing. Spring has come back again—sing cuckoo;

the days of light and warmth—sing cuckoo; the time of feasting and of

love—sing cuckoo. The proud abbot, with his following, draws rein to

let them pass, and laughs to see them—he is, you see, a man first and

a monk afterwards. In the gateway of his great house stands the Norman

earl with his livery. He waits to let the London youth go by. The earl

scorns the English youth no longer; he knows their lustihood. He can

even understand their speech. He sends out largesse to the lads to

be spent in the good wines of Gascony and of Spain; he joins in the

singing; he waves his hand, a brotherly hand, as the floral greenery

passes along; he sings with them at the top of his voice—

Sing cuccu—cuccu—nu sing cuccu;

Sing cuccu; sing cuccu nu!

Presently the evening falls. It is light till past eight; the days

are long. At nightfall, in summer, the people go to bed. In the great

houses they assemble in the hall; in winter they would listen to music

and the telling of stories, even the legends of King Arthur. Walter Map

or Mapes will collect them and arrange them; and the French romances,

such as ‘Amis et Amils,’ ‘Aucassin et Nicolette,’ though these have not

yet been written down. In summer they have music before they go to bed.

We are in a city that has always been fond of music. The noise of crowd

and pipe, tabor and cithern, is now silent in the streets. Rich men

kept their own musicians. What said Bishop Grossetête?—

Next hys chamber, besyde hys study,

Hys harper’s chamber was fast ther by.

Many tymes, by nightes and dayes,

He hade solace of notes and layes.

One asked him the resun why

He hadde delyte in minstrelsy?

He answered hym on thys manere

Why he helde the harpe so dere:

The virtu of the harpe thurh skill and right

Wyll destrye the fendys myght,

And to the cros by gode skeyl

Ys the harpe lykened weyl.

[Illustration: LADY SAVING A STAG FROM THE HUNTERS

Harl. MS., 4751 (13th cent.).]

He who looks and listens for the voice of the people in these ancient

times hears no more than a confused murmur: one sees a swarm working

like ants; a bell rings, they knock off work; another bell, they run

together, they shout, they wave their hats; the listener, however,

hears no words. It is difficult in any age—even in the present day—to

learn or understand what the _bas peuple_ think and what they desire.

They want few things indeed in every generation; only, as I said

above, the three elements of freedom, health, and just pay. Give them

these three, and they will grumble no longer. When a poet puts one of

them on his stage and makes him act and makes him speak, we learn the

multitude from the type. Later on, after Chaucer and Piers Plowman

have spoken, we know the people better—as yet we guess at them, we do

not even know them in part. Observe, however, one thing about London—a

thing of great significance. When there is a Jacquerie—when the people,

who have hitherto been as silent as the patient ox, rise with a wild

roar of rage—_it is not in London_. Here, men have learned—however

imperfectly—the lesson that only by combination of all for the general

welfare is the common weal advanced. I think, also, that London

men, even those on the lowest level, have always known very well

that their humility of place is due to their own lack of purpose and

self-restraint. The air of London had always been charged with the

traditions and histories of those who have raised themselves: there

never has been a city more generous to her children, more ready to hold

out a helping hand: this we shall see illustrated later on: at present

all is beginning. The elementary three conditions are felt, but not yet

put into words.

We are at present in the boyhood of a city which after a thousand years

is still in its strong and vigorous manhood, showing no sign, not the

least sign, of senility or decay. Rather does it appear like a city in

its first spring of eager youth. But the real work for Saxon and Norman

London lies before. It is to come. It is a work which is to be the

making of Great Britain and of America, Australia, and the Isles. It is

the work of building up, defending, and consolidating the liberties of

the Anglo-Saxon race.”

The question of slavery—whether it was common in London, and how long

it lasted, is very difficult. When William told his new subjects that

they were “law worthy,” he meant that the freemen were law worthy;

none but freemen had any privileges at all. No one was allowed to have

the freedom of the City unless he was known to be of free condition:

and “even if, after he had received the freedom, it became known that

he was a person of servile condition, through that same fact he lost

the freedom of the City” (_Liber Albus_, p. 30). Witness the case of

Thomas le Bedell, Robert le Bedell, Alan Underwoode, and Edmund May,

who in the year 1301 lost their freedom because it was discovered

that they held land in villeinage of the Bishop of London. The serfs

or villeins held their land “in villeinage” or “in demesne.” They had

no rights, and were the absolute property of their lords, who could

dispossess them at any moment. Of the lower or dependent class, there

were many subdivisions; all these were more or less serfs, holding

their lands by the tenure of certain services; in the whole of England,

according to _Domesday Book_, there were about 225,000 of these people,

so that, if each of them had a wife and four children, there were a

million and a quarter of cultivators of the soil who were also serfs.

There is evidence, in plenty, that the condition of these people under

the Normans rapidly improved; the Norman knight could not understand

all the distinctions; he lumped the people all together and treated

freemen and villani in much the same manner. Some of the villeins grew

rich; some were emancipated formally; some passed through no form of

emancipation; there remained, however, certain disabilities: they were

not admitted to the freedom of the City of London, and we hear of

complaints made about their admission to holy orders.

If we try to apply these facts to London we are baffled by a difficulty

already indicated. Were there serfs in the City? If so, how many? What

work did they undertake? Remember—a point already advanced—that in a

city of many industries, if any industry or craft becomes regarded as

especially the work of a slave, no freeman will ever after touch it;

and if the slave is emancipated, he will never again do any of that

work. But in London there has never been any prejudice against any kind

of work. I cannot understand how London, at such a time, could have

been composed entirely of freemen; but of the slaves, if there were

slaves, I can find no trace, no memory, and no indication.

[Illustration: SAXON DOORWAY, TEMPLE CHURCH]

There is, however, the ancient Saxon custom that obtains in all free

boroughs, if a villein fled from his master and found shelter within

the walls for a year and a day unclaimed, he thereby became free. Now

it is true that mere residence is not enough; a man must remain all

that time unclaimed. May we not see in this law the determination

that within the walls of London there should be no slave at all? In

the _Liber Albus_ all that I can find on the subject is that persons

holding land in villeinage shall not be allowed the freedom of the

City: this fact seems rather to point in the direction of allowing none

but freemen in the City. In 1288 the attorney of the Earl of Cornwall

preferred a claim in the Hustings against nine men, the bondmen of

the Earl, runaways. The decision of the Court is not given, but it is

clear that the men, who were villagers, hoped to remain unclaimed in

London, and that they were disappointed. On the whole, therefore, I

am of opinion that London would not allow any but freemen to live and

work within her walls. And we may remember the clause (No. 24) in the

Ordinances of the Council of 1103, to the effect that there shall be no

more buying and selling of men, “which was hitherto accustomed.”

We have already seen what were the exports of London under the Saxons

and Danes. Of course they remained the same under the Normans. Wool

was the staple. England subsisted, so to speak, upon her wool. It went

to Bruges, to Germany, and to Italy. The imports were, as before,

wine from Germany and La Rochelle; spices, gums, cloth of gold, silk,

and the finer weapons. New communications were opened up with the

Continent, and England lost her ancient isolation, when her people

could freely cross into Normandy, where their King was Duke. Trade was

carried on by means of the tally. This was a piece of wood, generally

willow wood, about nine inches long, cut into notches. Thus, a notch an

inch and a half across at the widest or the outside part means £1000;

an inch across £100; half an inch £20; and a long, narrow, sloping

notch £10. Other convenient marks denoted single pounds, shillings, and

pence.

The great fire of 1135 destroyed the whole of London from the Bridge

to the Fleet river. It is sometimes said that this fire destroyed

everything that was Saxon. Perhaps it did. But things moved very slowly

in the eleventh century; we need not believe that there was any change

at all in the buildings that succeeded Saxon London; the huts of the

craftsmen, once burned down, were rebuilt on exactly the same plan,

the frame houses of the merchant were rebuilt exactly as they had been

before. What we may regret were the little Saxon churches—would that we

had one or two of those left to us—and in addition, everything still

remaining of Roman London. We shall never know what remains of Roman

villas, temples, basilicas, baths, perished in this and other mediæval

fires, of which there were so many.

It must have been mortifying to the English merchant that the whole

of the foreign trade, the export and import trade, was carried on by

strangers; the Port of London for a long time had no ships, or next

to none, of her own. The Flemings and the German ships came and went

in fleets too strong to be attacked; otherwise the narrow seas were

swarming with pirates. There were English pirates, Norman pirates,

and French pirates; none of them were anxious to respect a ship of

their own nationality; it seemed as if by merely living in a seaport

one became naturally a pirate. Our sailors were simply undisciplined

pirates. When Henry the First raised a fleet, the men mutinied and half

of them went over to the enemy. The only chance of the London merchants

was to send out a fleet strong enough to fight and beat off these

pirates. This, however, they could not do; therefore for many a year

to come the foreign trade of London remained with the men of Hamburg,

Cologne, and Bruges.

On the government of London at this period we have spoken fully in

the second volume on _Mediæval London_, where will be found a chapter

called “The Commune” (p. 11).

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