Just for a little time I must leave my personal history to inquire how
England managed to do without me so long, and what the circumstances
were which at length rendered my existence imperative.
In the days following the Norman Conquest, the Jews, whose one pursuit
in life was the commerce of money, were the compulsory bankers of the
country.
They were subject to much cruelty and persecution, as you may see for
yourselves in your histories of the Kings of England. It is not to be
denied that their demands for interest on money lent by them were most
extravagant. In 1264 the rate of interest exceeded 40 per cent., and I
believe that 500 Jews were slain by our London citizens because one of
them would have forced a Christian to pay more than twopence for the
usury of 20s.[1] for one week, which sum they were allowed by the king
to take from the Oxford students.
They were ill-treated and robbed from the time they came over with the
Conqueror until the reign of Edward I., who distinguished himself by
robbing 15,000 Jews of their wealth, and then banishing the whole of
them from the kingdom; and thus, as much sinned against as sinning, the
compulsory bankers of the period departed.
There was no time to feel their loss, for immediately after their
expulsion the Lombards (Longobards), or merchants of Genoa, Florence,
Lucca and Venice, came over to England and established themselves in
the street which still bears their name.
There was no doubt as to their purpose, for it was a well-known fact
that in whatever country or town they settled they engrossed its trade
and became masters of its cash, and certainly they did not intend to
make an exception in favour of London.
I am not going to deny that they introduced into our midst many of
the arts and skill of trade with which we in England were previously
unacquainted; and it is to these Lombards or goldsmiths we owe the
introduction of bills of exchange, a wonderful invention, and one which
has served to connect the whole world into one, as you will see when
the proper place arrives for their explanation.
These Lombards, immediately after their arrival in London, may have
been seen regularly twice a day parading Lombard-street with their
wares, exposing for sale the most attractive articles; and in a short
time became so successful that they were able to take shops in which to
carry on their business as goldsmiths.
These shops were not confined to the one street which bears their name,
but were continued along the south row of Cheapside, extending from the
street called Old Change into Bucklersbury, where they remained until
after the Great Fire, when they removed to Lombard-street. There seems
to be no street in the world where a business of one special character
has been carried on so continuously as in Lombard-street. In the time
of Queen Elizabeth it was the handsomest street in London. In addition
to the art of the goldsmith, they added the business of money-changing,
the importance of which occupation you will be able to estimate when we
come to the subject of the coins of the realm.
From money-changers they became money-lenders and money-borrowers—money
was the commodity in which they dealt, and 20 per cent. the modest
interest they asked and obtained for their money.
Of course they gave receipts for the money lodged with them, and these
circulated and were known by the name of “goldsmiths’ notes,” and were,
in fact, the first kind of bank-notes issued in England.
The Lombards were a most industrious class of people, and left no
stone unturned by which they could obtain wealth; and in an incredibly
short time we find them not only wealthy, but powerful, and occupying
a very prominent position; and you may be quite sure that under these
circumstances they did not escape persecution.
Under the pretext that the goldsmiths were extortioners, Edward III.
seized their property and estates. Even this seemed but slightly to
affect them; for in the fifteenth century we find them advancing large
sums of money for the service of the State on the security of the
Customs.
In the latter days, and, indeed, up to the time of my birth, the
banking was entirely in the hands of the goldsmiths, but carried on in
a very rapacious spirit, as is frequently the case when unrestrained by
rivals.
I dare say you have all noticed the three golden balls on the outside
of pawnbrokers’ shops. Originally these were three pills, the emblem of
the Medici (physician) family; but in some way they became associated
with St. Dunstan, the patron saint of the goldsmiths, under the name of
the three golden balls—an emblem which the Lombards have retained.
Are you curious to know how the sign has so degenerated as to be the
inseparable companion of the pawnbrokers of the land? Well, listen.
Pawnbrokers’ shops, or loan banks, were established from motives of
charity in the fifteenth century. Their object was to lend money to
the poor upon pledges and without interest. Originally they were
supported by voluntary contributions, but as these proved insufficient
to pay expenses, it became necessary to charge interest for the money
lent. These banks were first distinguished by the name of _montes
pietatis_. The word _mont_ at this period was applied to any pecuniary
fund, and it is probable that _pietatis_ was added by the promoters
of the scheme, to give it an air of religion, and thus procure larger
subscriptions.
Well, these banks were not only called mounts of piety, but were
known also as Lombards,[2] from the name of the original bankers or
money-lenders. Now you see how it is pawnbrokers bear the sign of the
goldsmiths.
You who know so well where to place your money, both for interest
and security, when you have any to spare, can scarcely understand
the trouble and annoyance which our merchants and wealthy people
experienced at having no place of security wherein they could deposit
their money. At one time they sent it to the Mint in the Tower of
London, which became a sort of bank, where merchants left their money
when they had no need of it, and drew it out only as they wanted it;
but this soon ceased to be a place of security. In 1640 Charles I.,
without leave asked or granted, took possession of £200,000 of the
money lodged there. Great was the wrath of the merchants, who were
compelled, after this unkingly act, to keep their surplus money at
home, guarded by their apprentices and servants. Even here the money
was not safe, for on the breaking out of the war between Charles and
his Parliament, it was no uncommon occurrence for the apprentices to
rob their masters and run away and join the army.
When the merchants found that neither the public authorities nor their
own servants were to be trusted, they employed bankers, and these
bankers were goldsmiths.
Many a tale, however, has reached me of the shifts and contrivances
of people to secure their savings and surplus money—people whose
experience had taught them to distrust both authorities and places, and
who would not, under the new state of things, have anything to do with
the bankers. One I will relate to you.
A man whose life had been one of hard work and self-denial, and who had
two or three times lost his all through the untrustworthiness of the
people with whom he had lodged it, determined to be their dupe no more.
Money began once more to accumulate, and all things prospered with him;
but no one could imagine what he did with it; as far as his household
could tell, he did not deposit it with anyone outside the house,
neither could they discover any place within where it was possible
to stow it away. No persuasion could move the man to speak one word
concerning it.
At length he died, without having time or consciousness to mention
the whereabouts of his money. Search was made in all directions, but
without success.
While living he had been a regular attendant at one of our City
churches, and, occupying always the same corner in the old-fashioned
square pew, was well known to the clergy and servants.
A few weeks after his death the pew-opener told the rector, in a
frightened voice, that she could no longer keep the matter from him,
for as surely as she stood there, the ghost of the man who died a week
or two ago haunted the church by night and by day.
Instead of ridiculing her for her foolish fancy, the rector allowed her
to tell her story quietly, seeing that she was superstitious and very
nervous.
She related that several times during the past weeks, when quite alone
in the church for the purpose of sweeping and dusting, she had heard a
peculiar noise proceeding from the pew where the old man used to sit,
and it sounded to her exactly as though he were counting out money, and
she would be very glad if he would look to it and verify her statement.
Accordingly the rector and his curate accompanied the woman to the pew.
At first all was quiet, but as they listened, assuredly the sound came
exactly as described; they felt round about the pew, and at length
discovered a movable panel near the flooring. It was the work of a
moment to remove it, and there, in a good sized cavity, lay heaps of
money wrapped up in paper, which last had attracted the mice, and it
was their little pattering feet among the coins which had caught the
woman’s ear. The man had evidently dropped in his week’s savings on
Sundays, believing that it would be safer in the church than elsewhere.
It seems that after the restoration of Charles II., he being greatly
in want of money, the goldsmiths lent it, demanding ten per cent. for
the loan. Often, however, they obtained thirty per cent. from him, and
this induced the goldsmiths to lend more and more to the king, so that
really the whole revenue passed through their hands.
In 1672 a sad calamity befel the bankers, and put a check on their
prodigal lending. King Charles, who owed them £1,328,526, which he had
borrowed at eight per cent., utterly refused to pay either principal or
interest, and he remained firm to his resolution.
The way in which bankers transacted their loans with the king, was in
this manner:—As soon as the Parliament had voted to the king certain
sums of money out of special taxes, the goldsmith-bankers at once
supplied the king with the whole sum so voted, and were repaid in
weekly payments at the Exchequer[3] as the taxes were received.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Ruding, vol. I.
[2] The Lombards, or _montes pietatis_, lent on gold and silver
three-quarters of their value; on other metals half of their value;
and on jewels according to circumstances. The rate of interest was
determined in 1786 at five per cent.
[3] Exchequer, so called because there was a building with a square
hole in the floor, through which they used to drop the notes and gold
on to a table beneath, covered with a chequered cloth.
[Illustration]
DRESS: IN SEASON AND IN REASON.
BY A LADY DRESSMAKER.
We have had such a mild and delightful autumn, that all kinds of winter
garments have been delayed in making an appearance. This is especially
the case with mantles and the heavier class of jackets. However, there
is enough to show us that no great novelty has been introduced. Mantles
are all small and short, and the majority have ends in front more or
less long. Black plush seems a very favourite material, and is much
overladen with trimming. Plain plush is also used for paletôts, and for
large cloaks; but there is a new-patterned plush, with ribs in layers,
that is much used also. Beaded shoulder-straps and epaulettes are worn
as well as ornaments at the back, and sometimes beaded braces round
the join of the sleeve in the small mantles, and a strip of the same
may be used to outline the seam at the back. These hints may help some
of my readers to do up a last year’s mantle with some of the moderate
priced bead trimmings now in vogue. Paletôts or cloaks are made both
long and medium in length. They are made in plush, cloth, and rough
cloths, but are not seen in the finer fancy stuffs which are made use
of for mantles and jackets. These fancy cloths have an appearance as
if braid were sewn on to the surface. The cloak paletôts, when long,
close in front to the feet, and the fronts are trimmed with a border
of fur, which is shaped on the shoulders like a pointed old-fashioned
“Victorine.” No fur is placed at the lower edge of the cloak; the cuffs
are deep. Fur trimmings on jackets that are tight-fitting follow the
same rule, and have no trimming of fur at the edge. Fur boas are very
decidedly the fashion this winter, and there seems no end to their
popularity. Some of them are flat at the neck, like a collarette; and
others are attached to the mantle. The newest boas are rather shorter,
and some are nothing more than fur collars that clasp round the throat;
and these collars, or “tippets,” will probably take the place of the
fur capes that have been worn so long. Grey furs are more in fashion
than brown ones—such as chinchilla, grey fox, squirrel-lock, and
opossum, and I see that quantities of American raccoon are also being
prepared. Of course, the best kind of furs, like sable, marten-tail,
mink, or blue fox, are not within the ordinary range of purchasers, and
few people care to spend so much money on dress as their acquirement
entails. There is also a new feeling to be taken into account; the same
feeling that makes thinking women and girls decline to wear birds,
and their heads and wings, _i.e._, the feeling that the seal fishery
as hitherto conducted is cruel; and that one may wear furs that are
too costly in other ways. I often think if mighty hunters—instead of
hunting down the buffalo, and the other animals useful to the Indian in
the North West—would go to India and hunt the tigers that so cruelly
prey on the natives there, we should wear those skins with much
pleasure as well as advantage. But the account of the slaying of a
mother-seal ought to be enough for a tender-hearted woman. I have never
cordially liked sealskins since I read of the devotion of one poor
mother-seal in particular to her young; and I have never had a sealskin
jacket since.
[Illustration: AT THE ENGLISH LAKES.—AUTUMN AND WINTER GOWNS.]
There are numbers of jackets in every style, but all are made of
woollen materials, not of silk nor of velvet. Most of them are
tight-fitting, and are smart looking and stylish. Both single and
double-breasted ones are seen. Hoods are much worn, but are by no means
general. Coloured linings are used to pale-coloured or checked cloth
jackets, but not to black or brown ones. Small mantles and cloaks
are tied at the neck by a quantity of ribbons to match the colour of
the cloth or plush. One of the new ideas for mantles is that of a
semi-fitting jacket over a long close-fitting cloak.
[Illustration: UNDER NORTHERN SKIES.—A STUDY OF COMFORT IN DRESS.]
The new bonnets and hats are much smaller and prettier now, and there
are in consequence many of these quieter hats to be seen worn by
well-dressed girls in the streets of London. Formerly no girl who
wished to be thought somebody ever wore anything but a bonnet in London.
The velvet trimmings of bonnets are put on gathered, doubled and
pleated, sometimes with as many as three frills at the edge. Many of
the bonnets are without strings, and have pointed fronts, and there is
much jet trimming used even on coloured velvet bonnets. I am sorry to
say that our fashionable caterers continue to prey upon the feathered
creation all over the world. This winter the owl has evidently fallen
a victim, and there are besides the tern, kingfisher, and the heron.
How I wish this wicked and cruel bird slaughter could be prevented, and
that my numberless girl-readers would try to avoid giving it the least
encouragement. While we have the beautiful ostrich feathers, we cannot
need these other poor victims offered up on the altar of feminine
vanity and unthinking cruelty.
Some of the felt hats for the season are very pretty. They have high
and sloping crowns, the brims are often only bound with ribbon, but if
wide and turned up at the back, they are lined with velvet, or rather
only partly lined, as half of the brim at least is left unlined. Many
of them have brims turned up all round, like one of the old turban hats.
The ribbons in use at present are of all kinds, satin and velvet
reversible, as well as _moiré_ and velvet, or satin and _moiré_. These
have an edge of lacet, or one with tufts of silk, in colour. Velvet
ribbons with corded stripes have one edge purled and the other fringed;
and the strings of bonnets are of narrow _picot_-edged ribbon.
The number of white gowns that have been worn during the past season
and up to the present moment has been remarkable, and has quite
justified the name of a “white season.” Even as the weather became
colder, a charming mixture of materials was introduced, viz., white
corduroy, and some soft woollen stuff, like serge or flannel. For the
winter white will be the special fashion for young people for the
evening, and any colour can be given by trimming. It seems likely that
perfectly smooth cloths, of the nature of habit-cloths, will be used
for winter day dresses, trimmed with bands of short dark-hued fur, or
with velvet to match the colour of the cloth. The colours that will
be worn in these will be myrtle, a new shade of blue, a tint like
heliotrope, and a reddish violet.
Fancy materials in mixed colours abound, the mixtures being green
and ruby, brown and red, sage and vermilion, and others of the same
unæsthetic nature. The new browns are called Carmelite, chestnut,
rosewood, hair, and earth; the new reds are, Bordeaux, Indian, currant,
and clove. A new green is called verdigris. Grey does not seem to be
popular, and brown and red violet are the special colours of the season.
In the making of dresses there is but little change. The skirts are
still short, and the draperies still long; while there is a fancy
for over-trimming bodices of all kinds. This will be a blessing for
the possessors of half-worn and very ancient bodices. Bracers are
one of the novelties as a form of trimming for the latter. They are
also trimmed in imitation of a Zouave jacket. Polonaises seem to be
returning to favour, and will be worn later on over lace skirts for
evening dress. Serge seems to me to be the most favoured material this
winter, and it forms the ground work of half the fancy cloths and
mixtures. Stripes and crossbars are in the highest favour, and both
alpaca and foulard are used, and with poplin, chuddah cloth, velvet,
and silk rep, form the generality of the new dresses. There are numbers
of hairy-looking woollen materials, but I should not think they would
wear as well as a good serge, which is always a useful purchase.
The new petticoat materials in winceys are very gay and pretty, and the
pattern is usually of stripes; but the materials are various, being
sometimes all wool, or wool and silk mixed, and in the weaving there is
usually a rough or knotted stripe. Some of the new petticoats have a
few steels in them, and the addition makes the dress hold out from the
heels a little. A small steel-wire dress-improver is, however, quite
enough for most people, and very little crinolette is now worn—nothing
ungraceful nor immoderate in size. Other petticoats of better quality
are made of plain silk or satin, and one of the new fashions is to line
them with chamois leather, so as to make them warmer.
[Illustration: NEW WINTER JACKET BODICE.]
Shoes are more worn in London than boots, and laced shoes more than
buttoned ones. The same is the case with boots, which are considered
to fit better, and to look more stylish when laced than buttoned. I
have been very glad to see that sensibly-shaped boots and shoes are
on the increase, having wider toes and lower, broader heels. At the
present moment many of the best shops have them in their windows, and
have found it best and wisest to keep them for their customers; in
fact, the knowledge of hygienic necessities, and of all kinds of proper
clothing, is being so much extended and impressed on the public mind
on all sides, that I should not wonder if we all became quite reformed
characters, and wore, ate, and drank only such things as were good for
us.
I must not forget to mention gloves and their styles. Most people
usually wear Swede or kid gloves during the winter months; but this
year there are some such delightfully warm and pretty gloves in wool
and silk to be seen in the shops, that many will no doubt be tempted
to purchase them. If the dress be of a quiet colour, the gloves should
match it; but if red, or of a decided colour of any kind, the proper
gloves to wear would be tan-colour. These latter are also used in the
evening, except when the dress is black, or black and white, when the
gloves should be of grey Swede.
Our illustrations for the month are full of suggestions for making new
gowns and for altering old ones. It will be seen that the gowns are
both simple and elegant, with long flowing lines, and little or no
fulness of drapery. The prevailing fancy for jackets is shown, and the
newest model of a cape-like sleeve is given in our large front picture
of a seashore, “Under Northern Skies.” Much braiding is used, and it
is shown in two ways—laid on in flat bands, and also in a pattern on
the mantle. The new shapes of hats are much more moderate, and most
of the new shapes are illustrated. Our paper pattern for the month is
represented as worn by a lady in the centre of the smaller picture,
“At the English Lakes;” the centre figure shows its pretty and jaunty
outlines. It may be worn with either a plain waistcoat or a full silk
plastron, divided into puffings as shown in our sketch, which may be of
a soft Indian silk. It is of the last and new design, and will be found
a most useful winter bodice for usual daily wear. The pattern consists
of a collar, cuff, front, half of back, side pieces, and two sleeve
pieces. About four yards of 30 inch material are required, perhaps
less, if very carefully cut. All patterns are of a medium size, viz.,
36 inches round the chest, and only one size is prepared for sale. Each
of the patterns may be had of “The Lady Dressmaker,” care of Mr. H. G.
Davis, 73, Ludgate Hill, E.C., price 1s. each. It is requested that the
addresses be clearly given, and that postal notes crossed only to go
through a bank may be sent, as so many losses have recently occurred.
The patterns already issued may always be obtained, as “The Lady
Dressmaker” only issues patterns likely to be of constant use in home
dressmaking and altering, and she is particularly careful to give all
the new patterns of hygienic underclothing, both for children and young
and old ladies, so that her readers may be aware of the best method of
dressing.
The following is a list of those already issued, price 1s. each.
April—Braided, loose-fronted jacket. May—Velvet bodice. June—Swiss
belt and full bodice, with plain sleeves. July—Mantle. August—Norfolk
or pleated jacket. September—Housemaid’s or plain skirt.
October—Combination garment (underlinen). November—Double-breasted
out-of-door jacket. December—Zouave jacket and bodice. January—Princess
underdress (underlinen, underbodice, and underskirt combined).
February—Polonaise with waterfall back. March—New spring bodice.
April—Divided skirt, and Bernhardt mantle with sling sleeves. May—Early
English bodice and yoke bodice for summer dress. June—Dressing
jacket, princess frock, and Normandy cap for a child of four years.
July—Princess of Wales’ jacket-bodice and waistcoat, for tailor-made
gown. August—Bodice with guimpe. September—Mantle with stole ends
and hood. October—“Pyjama,” or nightdress combination, with full
back.—November—New winter bodice.
[Illustration]
THE BUILDERS OF THE BRIDGE.
BY MRS. G. LINNÆUS BANKS, Author of “God’s Providence House,” “The
Manchester Man,” “More than Coronets,” etc.