rumour, but he waits for some corroboration from another source before
entirely accepting it. He adds in a note: 'The story of Jack Cade,
however, is attended with difficulties from any point of view, and it is
remarkable that when Cade's body was brought to London it was taken to
the White Hart at Southwark, where he had lodged before his entry into
the city, and identified by the woman who kept the house. We hear
nothing of its being identified by any one who had seen the leader
before the Battle of Sevenoaks.'[53]
[Illustration: CHAUCER'S PILGRIMS ISSUING FROM THE TABARD.]
CHAPTER III
_Round the Town with Chaucer and the Poets of his Time_
Having considered some of the chief conditions of life in a walled town,
and the manners of the inhabitants, we can now proceed to look at old
London through the eyes of the great English poets of the later mediæval
period, to whom we are so much indebted for the insight they give us
into the habits of a long-dead past.
That wonderful book, _Piers Plowman_, not only brings before us in the
most vivid fashion the life of the fourteenth century, but opens out to
us the thoughts and hopes of the leaders of men. One of the most
striking passages contains a description of the interior of a beerhouse
in the reign of Edward III., with the company assembled therein.[54]
This is a scene common to the whole country, but London places are also
frequently mentioned in _Piers Plowman_.
The author, William Langland, called 'Long Will,' probably from his
tallness, was an inhabitant of London, but he has little to say in its
favour. He wrote: 'I have lived long in London, but have never found
charity; all whom I have seen are covetous.'[55]
Prof. Skeat says: 'One great merit of the poem is, that it chiefly
exhibits London life and London opinions, which are surely of more
interest to us than those of Worcestershire. He does but mention Malvern
three times, and those three passages may be found within the compass of
the first eight passus of Text A. But how numerous are his allusions to
London! He not only speaks of it several times, but he frequently
mentions the Law Courts of Westminster; he was familiar with Cornhill,
East Cheap, Cock Lane in Smithfield,[56] Shoreditch, Garlickhithe,
Stratford, Tyburn and Southwark, all of which he mentions in an offhand
manner. He mentions no river but the Thames, which is with him simply
synonymous with river; for in one passage he speaks of two men thrown
into the Thames, and in another he says that rich men are wont to give
presents to the rich, which is as superfluous as if one should fill a
tun with water from a fresh river and then pour it into the Thames to
render it wetter. To remember the London origin of a large portion of
the poem is the true key to the right understanding of it.'[57]
M. Jusserand, in his interesting study of _Piers Plowman_, says of
Langland: 'He tells us what he has seen and nothing else; his sole guide
is the light that shines over the town where Truth is imprisoned.' He
continues: 'It clears the darkness of the London lanes, where, under the
pent-roof of their shops, the merchants make Gyle, disguised as an
apprentice, sell their adulterated wares; it brightens the hovel in
Cornhill where the poet lodges his emaciated body; it throws its rays on
the scared faces of sinners for whom the hour of punishment has rung. We
have here a whole gallery of portraits which stand out in an
extraordinary manner.'
M. Jusserand takes a somewhat unfavourable view of Langland's character.
He says that the poet 'blames those who go to London and sing for souls,
yet he confesses that he does the same. He blames people of a wandering
habit, yet he is a wanderer; he heaps scorn on the men who seek for
invitations at the houses of the great, yet he does so; he condemns "tho
that feynen here folis" (Bk. x. 38), and he assumes the appearance of a
"fole"; he hates lazy people, "lorels," "lolleres," yet he lives himself
as a lorel, a loller, a "spille-tyme";
'"and lovede wel fare,
And no dede to do bote drynke and to slepe."' (C. vi. 8).
The satirist and the censor cannot always be consistent, and without
deciding upon the character of Langland, gratitude to him causes us to
forgive his inconsistencies, and makes us more inclined to agree with
the high estimate of Professor Skeat, rather than with the condemnation
of Mons. Jusserand.[58]
Langland was taken by the leaders of the Peasants' Rising as the great
prophet of their movement, but he himself stood outside the political
circle. He complained of the evils that were everywhere rampant, but he
did not wish to set himself against the Government; as Dr. Skeat says:
'His Richard the Redeles is a tender and touching remonstrance to the
King, Richard II.'
Thomas Hoccleve and John Gower were Londoners,--the former a clerk in
the Privy Seal Office and the latter probably a city merchant.
Hoccleve is supposed to have taken his name from the village of
Hockliffe, Bedfordshire, on the Roman Road, 4-1/2 miles south of Woburn,
and 3-1/2 east of Leighton Buzzard. He intended at first to become a
priest, but instead he entered the Privy Seal Office in 1308, when he
was nineteen or twenty years of age. He complained of the drudgery of
copying, and seems to have been always ready to shirk his work. Dr.
Furnivall's side-notes to the autobiographical portion of the _Regement
of Princes_ show what the complaints are like: 'A copier must always
work mind, eye and hand together. He can't talk to other folk, or sing,
but must give all his wits to his work. Workmen talk, sing, and lark. We
labour in silence, stoop and stare on the sheepskin. Our copying hurts
our stomachs, our backs and our eyes. Anyone who has copied for twenty
years like I have suffers for it in every bit of his body. It's nearly
done for me. Had I always lived in poverty, I shouldn't feel it so much
now, but the change is strange. God keep me from poverty. I'd sooner die
than live miserably.'
As there were many copyists employed in London, we must hope that they
were not all so weary of their work as the poet was.
He lived at Chester Inn, which stood on part of the site of the present
Somerset House.
'At Chestre ynne, right fast be the Stronde.'
His daily occupation took him to Westminster, where the Privy Seal
Office was situated, and as the Strand was but a poor road we may
suppose that he went from home to office in a boat. He went frequently
to Paul's Head Tavern, in St. Paul's Churchyard, where he made love to
the waitresses and others. He also belonged to a dining club, called the
Temple Club, 'the court of good company.' Often after dinner, instead of
going back to the office, he took his pleasure on the Thames, being
flattered by the watermen, who fought amongst themselves for his
patronage, and called him master, because he paid them well.
He was a good Churchman, and denounced the Lollard Rising in St. Giles's
Fields in January 1414 in good set terms.
Hoccleve was not a very lively poet, and he always seems to have been in
want of money. He enjoyed the early part of his life, but when he
married and the pinch of poverty came upon him he was very dejected. In
spite of his faults we cannot but esteem him, and feel that he has a
claim on our gratitude because he was devoted to Chaucer, and was the
cause of our possessing the best portrait there is of the poet. Hoccleve
was near Chaucer in his last days. He could easily pass from Westminster
Palace to the garden of the Chapel of St. Mary. Dr. Furnivall suggests
that he was with Chaucer when the great poet died there.[59]
Dr. G. C. Macaulay, in the Introduction to his valuable and exhaustive
edition of Gower's _Complete Works_, says that the poet speaks with
special respect of the estate of merchants, which seems to suggest that
it was as a merchant he made the money which he spent in buying his
land, and this inference is supported by the manner in which he speaks
of 'our city,' and by the fact that it is with members of the merchant
class that he seems to be most in personal communication. Dr. Macaulay
supposes Gower to have been a dealer in wool, with the natural dislike
of the Londoner for foreigners. The jealousy of the Lombards which he
expresses has every appearance of being a prejudice connected with
rivalry in commerce. 'I see Lombards come,' he says, 'in poor attire as
servants, and before a year has passed they have gained so much by
deceit and conspiracy that they dress more nobly than the burgesses of
our city.'[60]
John Gower at one time lived at Southwark, and in St. Saviour's Church
his tomb still stands. One day, in the year 1390, when he had taken boat
on the Thames, he accidentally met the King (Richard II.) in his
tapestried barge. The river was the silent highway for all Londoners,
also the royal road from Westminster to the Tower, and from thence to
Greenwich. Brilliant scenes were to be seen on the river, which joined
all parts of the town in one. Here all classes were brought
together--the gentry and the working-classes--and Court pageants were
constantly being enacted.
When Richard saw Gower he commanded him to come into the royal barge,
and then charged him to write some new thing which he might read. The
poet obeyed the command, and produced the _Confessio Amantis_, with a
Prologue, in which occur these lines:--
'In our engglish, I thenke make
A bok for King Richardes sake,
To whom belongeth my ligeance
With al myn hertes obeissance
In al that evere a liege man
Unto his King may doon or can,
So perforth I me recomande
To him which al me may comande,
Preyende unto the hihe regne
Which causeth every king to regne
That his corone longe stoude.
I thenke and have it understoude,
As it bifel upon a tyde,
As thing which scholde tho betyde,--
Under the toun of newe Troye,
Which tok of Brut his ferst joye,
In Temse whan it was flowende
As I be bote cam rowende,
So as fortune hir tyme sette,
My liege lord par chaunce I mette;
And so befel, as I cam nyh,
Out of my bot, whan he me syh,
He bad me come in to his barge.
And whan I was with him at large,
Amonges othre thinges seid
He hath this charge upon me leid,
And bad me doo my besynesse
That to his hihe worthinesse
Som newe thing I scholde boke,
That he himself it mihte loke
After the forme of my writynge.
And thus upon his comandynge
Myn herte is wel the more glad
To write so as he me bad;
And eek my fere as wel the lasse
That non envye schal compasse
Without a resonable wite
To pyne and blame that I write.'
As time went on Gower lost faith in Richard. The personal reference to
the King was suppressed, and instead of
'A bok for King Richardes sake,'
he wrote
'A bok for Engelondes sake.'
The original picture is of all the more interest, because Gower's verse
is not usually allusive to the characteristics of London life.
John Lydgate was a countryman and monk of Bury, born at Lydgate, near
Newmarket, about 1370, as he himself tells us in the _Tale of Princes_.
He was not in sympathy with the doings of the city, but his _London
Lickpenny_ is an invaluable record of London life in his day; in which
are related the adventures of a poor Kentishman who comes to London in
search of justice, but cannot find it for lack of money.
First he went to Westminster Hall, and visited successively the
different courts of law--the King's Bench and the Common Pleas, and then
to the Rolls, 'before the clerks of the Chancerie.'
'Within this Hall, neither rich nor yet poor
Would do for me aught, although I should die.
Which seeing, I got me out of the door,
Where Flemings began on me for to cry,
"Master, what will you copen or buy?
Fine felt hats, or spectacles to read?
Lay down your silver and here you may speed."'
At Westminster Gate:--
'Cooke's to me they took good intent,
And proffered me bread with ale and wine,
Ribs of beef, both fat and full fine,
A faire cloth they gan for to sprede,
But wanting money I might not then speed.'
No doubt the countryman had sufficient cause for many of his complaints,
but we cannot but ask, Why should he expect to obtain things without
paying for them?
He proceeds to London and hears the various cries of the streets--'Hot
peascodes,' 'Strawberry ripe,' 'Cherries in the rise' (_i.e._, on the
bough). Some of the tradesmen offered spice, pepper and saffron. In
Cheapside he saw velvet, silk and lawn, and 'Paris thread, the fin'st in
the land.' He goes by London Stone through Cannon Street, where drapers
offered him much cloth. Others cried 'Hot sheep's feet,' 'Mackerel,'
'Rushes green.' In East Cheap there were ribs of beef, many a pie, and
pewter pots in a heap. A taverner in Cornhill took him by the sleeve:--
'Sir,' saith he, 'will you our wine assay?'
He was now tired of his excursion, and walked to Billingsgate, where he
prayed a bargeman to take him in his boat for nothing. All this is a
groundless complaint; but he was also robbed at Westminster of his hood,
in Cannon Street he was asked to buy a new one, and in Cornhill, among
much stolen property, he saw his own hood hanging up for sale. This
reminds one of the oft-repeated story of the man who, walking through
Petticoat Lane, was robbed as he entered and found the object stolen
from him ticketed for sale as he turned out of it. The countryman soon
has enough of London and its ways, and conveys himself back into Kent,
ending his account of adventures with these words:--
'Save London, and send true lawyers their meed.
For whoso wants money with them shall not speed.'
The words of the poets already referred to are of the greatest value to
us, and we are grateful for the vivid pictures of mediæval life they
have left us, but we have in Chaucer an ideal Londoner, far beyond the
others in the charm of his writing, one who loved the city in which he
lived and died.
Langland was too much occupied in denouncing the evils of his time to be
able to see the good. Lydgate, Hoccleve and Gower also took partial
views of the life around them. It is the great genius and
large-heartedness of Chaucer that enables us to see the mixed good and
evil.
Thanks to the labours of many scholars[61] we seem to know Chaucer, who
died five centuries ago, better than many great men who have lived
nearer our own days, and, strange to say, although we take him as a
representative of the Middle Ages--and he was that--he was so imbued
with the modern spirit that we cannot but feel that he is at one with us
in his views of the life around him. He was associated with all parts of
London, so that in a walk through the town with him we can illustrate
our journey from the facts known of his life and with extracts from his
works.
The facts of Chaucer's life, as written in official documents which have
been found by enthusiastic searchers, are largely illustrative of London
history, and it is only with these special facts that we are here
concerned.
Geoffrey Chaucer was the son of a citizen and vintner of the city of
London, and probably born at his father's house in Thames Street, in the
Vintry, at or near the foot of Dowgate Hill. The house came into
Geoffrey's possession after his father's death, when he sold it. There
has been much discussion as to the date of his birth. It must have been
after 1328, because we know that in that year his father was a bachelor.
There is much to be said in favour of the supposition that he was born
about 1340.
His family must have stood well in public esteem, with good connections,
as the young man was early attached to the Court, and during his
lifetime he filled several offices of distinction. His grandfather,
Robert le Chaucer, was one of the collectors at the Port of London of
the new customs upon wine, granted by the merchants of Aquitaine.
We have no information as to Geoffrey's schooling, but doubtless the
position of his father was such that he would find a place at one of the
schools that were attached to the chief religious houses of London.
Fitz-Stephen tells us that the three chief schools were connected with
St. Paul's, St. Martin's-le-Grand, and Holy Trinity, Aldgate. Neither of
these schools is far from the Vintry, and Chaucer might have gone to
either of them. St. Paul's is, of course, the nearest, but if he went to
this school there ought to be some tradition of the fact still existing.
There is no claim, however, to Chaucer set up by the historians of the
successor of the old school--the new foundation of Dean Colet.
Chaucer's early life was spent at Court and in diplomatic missions. In
June 1374 he was appointed Comptroller of the Customs and Subsidy of
wool skins and tanned hides in the Port of London. Attached to his
office was the obligation to keep the records with his own hand and to
be continuously present. In the previous May, looking out for a
convenient residence, he rented Aldgate from the city authorities.
In _The Hous of Fame_ (Bk. ii.) we have a picture of the poet at Aldgate
after a hard day's work, writing of love (with his head aching) in his
study at night:--
'That ther no tyding cometh to thee,
But of thy verray neyghèbores
That dwellen almost at thy dores,
Thou herest neither that ne this;
For when thy labour doon al is,
And hast y-maad thy rekenynges,
In stede of reste and newé thynges,
Thou gost hoom to thy hous anoon,
And also domb as any stoon,
Thou sittest at another boke,
Til fully daswèd is thy looke,
And lyvest thus as an herémyte,
Although theyn abstinence is lyte.'
Here, at Aldgate, Professor Hales tells us he wrote most of the works of
his middle period.
'It was in the old Tower of Aldgate that he made himself a supreme
master of the poetic craft, and turned his mastery to immortal account
in the production of so exquisite a piece as _Troilus and Cressida_, and
in the designing of a work that should give yet ampler expression to his
manifold gifts and graces, to his maturest thought and his highest
inspiration.'[62]
In 1382 he obtained an additional comptrollership, that of the Petty
Customs of the Port of London, with leave to nominate a substitute on
the understanding that he was responsible for him. In February 1385 the
same privilege was allowed him in regard to his old comptrollership, and
soon afterwards he left the gate house of Aldgate. In October 1386 he
was elected Knight of the Shire for Kent, and then political troubles
caused him to lose both his comptrollerships.
Professor Hales finds that the premises were granted in October 1386 to
Richard Foster, possibly identical with Richard Forrester, who was one
of Chaucer's proxies when he went abroad for a time in May 1378.[63]
The date of _The Legend of Good Women_ is given as probably in the
spring or summer of 1386, and as the house in which he was then living
had a garden and an arbour, it could not have been the dwelling-house of
Aldgate. Professor Hales believes that when the poet left the latter
place he went to live at Greenwich.
'When that the sun out of the south gon weste,
And that this flower gon close and go to reste
For darkness of the night, for which she dredde,
Home to mine house full swiftly I me spedde,
To go to rest and early for to rise,
To see this flower spread, as I devise;
And in a little arbour that I have
That benched was on turves fresh ygrave,
I bad men shoulde me my couche make,
For dainty of the newe summer's sake,
I bad them strawen flowers on my bed.'[64]
The year 1387 has been fixed as the date of the framework of the
Pilgrimage to Canterbury, starting from the Tabard, fast by the Ball in
Southwark. Some of the Tales had certainly been written before this, but
then it was that they were gathered together.
A very interesting note by Professor Hales, on the date of the
_Canterbury Tales_, is printed in the _Athenæum_ (April 8, 1893), in
which some excellent reasons are given in support of this date: 'It has
been and is by some still placed as late as 1393. But the evidence for
placing it so late is extremely slight, if, indeed, there is any at all
that bears investigation; whereas assuredly many things point to the
year 1387 or thereabouts as the year of the pilgrimage and of Chaucer's
immortal description of it.'[65]
In 1389 Chaucer was Clerk of the King's Works at the Palace of
Westminster, the Tower of London and various royal manors. In 1390 he
was employed to repair St. George's Chapel, Windsor, and to erect
scaffolds at Smithfield for Richard II. and his Queen, Anne of Bohemia,
for them to view a great tournament.
He was also appointed one of the Commission for the repair of the
roadways on the banks of the river between Greenwich and Woolwich. About
this time a great misfortune overtook the poet. In the pursuit of his
duties, with the King's money in his purse to pay the workmen, he was
robbed by highwaymen twice on the same day. The first time at
Westminster of £10, and the second at Hatcham, near the 'foul oak,' of
£9, 3s. 8d. This was a serious loss, and he was forgiven the amount by
writ dated 6th January 1391.
In this same year Chaucer lost his lucrative clerkships, and we hear no
more of him from the records till 1399, when he took a lease for
fifty-three years of a tenement in the garden of St. Mary's Chapel,
Westminster (on the site of Henry VII.'s Chapel). Here he died ten
months after, on the 25th of October 1400. Thus ended the full and busy
life of the many-sided poet, who was also man of science, soldier,
esquire of the King's household, envoy on several foreign missions,
Comptroller of Customs and Member of Parliament.
From this catalogue of Chaucer's offices and official movements we can
see that a better guide to the London of his day could not be found. We
may take it for granted that he walked over the greater part of the city
continually.
As a boy he was an inhabitant of the Vintry, and from here he would walk
to school either in a north-easterly direction to Holy Trinity, Aldgate,
or in a westerly direction to St. Paul's or St. Martin's-le-Grand. Then
at about seventeen years of age he was attached to the Court, and for
some years he was a frequent attendant at the palace of Westminster.
When he settled to his duties at the Custom House he went backwards and
forwards to Aldgate. Sometimes he would walk up Spurriers' Lane (now
Water Lane), cross Tower Street, along Fenchurch Street, up Mark (then
Mart) Lane to the gate. At other times he would probably find his way to
Great Tower Hill, and pass through the Tower Postern to Little Tower
Hill. From here he would walk northward among the trees between the
wall and town ditch on the one side, and the Nunnery of the Minoresses
on the other.
In 1381, at the time of the Peasants' Revolt, Chaucer was, we may
suppose, in London, but he does not allude at all fully to the reign of
terror which for four days overshadowed the city. The men of Essex were
outside Aldgate waiting to be let in, and when the Bridgegate was opened
to the men of Kent the eastern gate was also thrown open. One would wish
to have known what Chaucer was doing then. Did he look out of the window
of his house and watch the threatening crowd, or had he gone to the
support of the King in the Tower.
He only makes a passing allusion to the murder of the Flemings in the
_Nun's Priest's Tale_:--
'Certes he Jakke Straw and his meyné,
Ne maden schoutes never half so scrille,
Whan that they wolden eny Fleming kille,
As thilke day was maad upon the fox.' (ll. 574-577.)
Chaucer must often have wandered outside Aldgate, and after a hard day's
work he would naturally stroll along the wide and pleasant Eastern Road.
He introduces the Benedictine Nunnery of Stratford atte Bowe in his
description of the prioress (Madam Eglentyne):--
'And Frenssh she spak ful faire and fetisly--
After the scole of Stratford atté Bowe,
For Frenssh of Parys was to hire unknowe.'
And certainly he must have passed over the bridge built by Queen Matilda
in the twelfth century--which gave its name to the village.
In 1389, after he had left Aldgate, and when he was probably settled at
Westminster, of which palace he was clerk of the works, he was often
called to the Tower (close by his old office at the Custom House), to
see to the necessary repairs. Like others, Chaucer probably used the
river as often as possible, for many of the streets were not very
pleasant to walk along, but in carrying out his many official duties he
was obliged to visit all parts of the city, and he must therefore have
left few streets within the walls untraversed.
We have chiefly noted the places on the east side of London, and we can
therefore now pass to the west.
The controversy that raged over the question of the respective claims of
the families of Scrope and Grosvenor to a certain coat-of-arms is of
high interest to the herald, but in the voluminous evidence the lover of
Chaucer, and of London, scarcely expects to find a statement by the poet
himself as to his being in Friday Street on a certain day, and what he
saw there. The whole account of the poet's examination is of the
greatest interest.
'Geffray Chaucere, Esquier, of the age of forty years and more, armed
twenty-seven years, for the side of Sir Richard Lescrop, sworn and
examined, being asked if the arms, azure a bend or, belong or ought to
pertain to the said Sir Richard by right and heritage, said, Yes; for he
saw him so armed in Fraunce [1359], before the town of Retters [qy.
Réthel], and Sir Henry Lescrop armed in the same arms with a white
label, and with banner; and the said Sir Richard armed in the entire
arms, azure a bend or, and so during the whole expedition, until the
said Geffray was taken. Being asked how he knew that the said arms
belonged to the said Sir Richard, said that he had heard old knights and
esquires say that they had had continual possession of the said arms;
and that he had seen them displayed on banners, glass painting and
vestments, and commonly called the arms of Scrope. Being asked whether
he had ever heard of any interruption or challenge made by Sir
[Illustration: OLD ST. PAUL'S.
(_From a drawing by Walter H. Godfrey, reconstructed from information
obtained from leading authorities._)]
Robert Grosvenor, or his ancestors, said, No: but that he was once in
Friday Street, London, and walking up the street he observed a new sign
hanging out, with these arms thereon, and inquired what inn that was
that had hung out these arms of Scrope? And one answered, saying: "They
are not hung out, Sir, for the arms of Scrope, nor painted there for
those arms; but they are painted and put there by a knight of the county
of Chester, called Sir Robert Grosvenor," and that was the first time he
ever heard speak of Sir Robert Grosvenor, or his ancestors, or of anyone
bearing the name of Grosvenor.'[66]
Friday Street was close by old St. Paul's, the glory of the city, which
was magnificent within and without. When Chaucer knew it, the fine tomb
of Sir John Beauchamp (d. 1358), constable of Dover Castle, in the
middle aisle of the nave, was new. This monument was the chief object in
the nave, and came to be called incorrectly Duke Humphry's Tomb, and the
nave from it was styled Duke Humphry's Walk. The stately tomb of John of
Gaunt (d. 1399), which was later on the most prominent object in the
choir, was probably not erected in Chaucer's lifetime.
The old Cathedral was full of chantries, as were the other churches of
London. The number of chantry priests gave great offence, as appears in
_Piers Plowman_, and the works of the other poets. The Poor Parson is
described in the Prologue of the _Canterbury Tales_ as attending to his
own flock, and not performing the services of the dead at other
shrines:--
'He sette not his benefice to hire,
And lette his sheep accombred in the mire,
And ran unto London, into Seint Paules,
To seken him a chaunterie for soules.'
Outside Newgate, Chaucer went up Cow Lane (now King Street) to
Smithfield, the open space appropriated to tournaments, markets and
shows, to prepare for the jousts to be held before the King and his
Queen in 1390.
Passing from London to Westminster we come to the Mews (the site of the
present National Gallery), which Chaucer had for a time under his
charge. He settled in the precincts of Westminster Abbey, and there
passed away. It has been erroneously stated, on the authority of Stow,
that Chaucer was first buried in the cloisters. This is refuted by
Caxton's distinct statement that the body was first buried in front of
the Chapel of St. Benedict. In 1555 or 1556 it was removed to its
present position in the tomb prepared for it by Nicholas Brigham, where
it has become the central object of the world-renowned Poets'
Corner.[67] The last place to be mentioned, and the one which he has
chiefly immortalised, is the High Street, Southwark, called also Long
Southwark. Here was the Tabard,[68] where gathered the Canterbury
Pilgrims, who set out on their pilgrimage under the leadership of Harry
Bailly. Bailly was a real personage, and at one time Member of
Parliament for Southwark.
Of all the pictures drawn by Chaucer, the portraits of the pilgrims in
the Prologue to the _Canterbury Tales_ are the most valuable for our
present purpose, as showing us the men and women who were to be seen
daily in the streets of London.
It is a difficult matter to appraise the relative positions of our
great authors, but probably the true test of immortality is the creation
of living characters. It is largely the dramatic power displayed in the
Prologue to the _Canterbury Tales_ which places Chaucer by the side of
Shakespeare.
CHAPTER IV
_The River and the Bridge_
The river has made London, and London has acknowledged its obligations
to the Thames. It was the Silent Highway along which the chief traffic
of the city passed during the Middle Ages, and, probably, the roads of
London would have been better if the water carriage had not been so
good. The river continued to be the Silent Highway until the nineteenth
century, when it lost its high position. With the construction of the
Thames Embankment the river again took its proper place as the centre of
London, but it did not again become its main artery.
We have seen in the previous chapter how the poet Gower met King Richard
II. near Westminster and was summoned to the royal barge.
Fitz-Stephen gives a vivid description of the sports on the Thames: 'In
the Easter holidays they play at a game resembling a naval engagement. A
target is firmly fastened to the trunk of a tree which is fixed in the
middle of the river, and in the prow of a boat, driven along by oars and
the current, a young man, who is to strike the target with his lance; if
in hitting it he break his lance, and keep his position unmoved, he
gains his point, and attains his desire; but if his lance be not
shivered by the blow he is tumbled into the river, and his boat passes
by, driven along by its own motion. Two boats, however, are placed
there, one on each side of the target, and in them a number of young men
to take up the striker when he first emerges from the
[Illustration: VISSCHER'S VIEW OF LONDON, A.D. 1616.
_Section (reduced) from the Re-production by the Topographical Society
of London._]
stream.... On the bridge, and in balconies on the banks of the river,
stand the spectators.' Four centuries after this Stow describes a
somewhat similar scene: 'I have also in the summer season seen some upon
the river of Thames rowed in wherries, with staves in their bands, flat
at the fore end, running one against another, and for the most part, one
or both overthrown, and well ducked.'
One of the most remarkable incidents in the life of the Middle Ages is
connected with the history of that highly-placed lady, the unfortunate
Eleanor Cobham, Duchess of Gloucester, whose enemies succeeded in
condemning her to do penance in London in three open spaces on three
several days. She was brought by water from Westminster, and on the 13th
of November 1441 was put on shore at the Temple Bridge; on the 15th at
the Old Swan; and again, on the 17th, at Queenhithe, and from these
landing-places she walked to the place of penance. The Old Swan, which
stood near London Bridge, just where its successor now stands, can be
traced further back than the reign of Henry VI., for a tavern with the
sign of the Swan is mentioned in a deed of Edward II.'s time.
The old Chronicles are full of references to what took place on the
river. Thus Edward Halle has a vivid picture of how the Archbishop of
York, after leaving the widow of Edward IV. in the Sanctuary at
Westminster, returned home to York Place at dawn of day, 'and when he
opened his windows and looked on the Thames he might see the river full
of boats of the Duke of Gloucester [Richard III.], his servants,
watching that no person should go to sanctuary, nor none should pass
unsearched.'
Cavendish, in his _Life of Wolsey_, shows us two prelates talking
confidentially in the cardinal's barge: 'Thus this court passed from
session to session, and day to day, in so much that a certain day the
King sent for my lord the breaking up one day of the court to come to
him into Bridewall. And to accomplish his commandment he went unto him,
and being there with him in communication in his grace's privy chamber
from eleven until twelve of the clock and past at noon, my lord came out
and departed from the King, and took his barge at the Black Friars, and
so went to his house at Westminster. The Bishop of Carlisle, being with
him in his barge, said unto him (wiping the sweat from his face), "Sir,"
quoth he, "it is a very hot day." "Yea," quoth my lord cardinal, "if ye
had been as well chafed as I have been within this hour, ye would say it
were very hot."'
The river swarmed with watermen, and these men had their songs and
choruses. A favourite song was in honour of Sir John Norman (Mayor in
1454), who first broke the rule of riding to Westminster on Mayor's day,
and 'rowed thither by water,' a practice which continued for many years,
and might now be revived with advantage.
'Row the boat, Norman, row to thy leman.'
We can see from this how much, both of the business and pleasure of
London, took place on the Thames. It reminds us vividly of the busy life
on the canals of Venice.
The river was the highway of business as well of pleasure, and the
intimate relations between England and Normandy after the Conquest
naturally encouraged commerce between the Continent and England, and
London rapidly became the centre of this trade. Ships came here from
Flanders, Germany, Gascony, Italy, and also from Norway. Wharves lined
the sides of the Thames, and each class of goods was landed at a wharf
set apart for a special nationality.
In Henry II.'s reign London and Bristol became the chief commercial
ports of the kingdom, the former trading with Germany and the central
ports of the Continent, and the latter with the Scandinavian countries
and with Ireland.
The Normans had special privileges, and Mr. Horace Round points out that
the charter of Henry Duke of the Normans (afterwards Henry II. of
England) to the citizens of Rouen, 1150-1151, confers to them their port
at Dowgate, as they had held it from the days of Edward the Confessor.
Mr. Round adds that this is a fact unknown to English historians.[69]
The early history of Queenhithe, for many years the chief rival to
Billingsgate, is somewhat difficult to follow. In the Saxon period it
appears to have belonged to one Edred, who gave the wharf his name, by
which it continued to be called for some years after the Conquest. It
was granted to Holy Trinity within Aldgate by William de Ypre, who
received it from King Stephen. After some time it again came into the
possession of the King, and John is said to have given it to his mother
Eleanor, Queen of Henry II., after whom it received its name of
Queenhithe. By some means not recorded the _Ripa Regina_ came into the
possession of Richard Earl of Cornwall, who in 1246 granted it to John
Gisors, then Mayor, and the Commons of London to farm at an annual rent
of £50. Henry III. confirmed this grant, and the custody of the hithe
was thereupon committed to the Sheriffs, and half a year's rent had been
allowed, as the place appears to have fallen into decay, owing probably
to the death of John de Storteford during his shrievalty. According to
Stow, 'Edward II. in the first year of his reign gave to Margaret, wife
to Piers de Gavestone, forty-three pounds twelve shillings and
ninepence halfpenny farthing out of the rent of London to be received of
the Queen's hithe.'
Queenhithe was the usual landing-place for wine, wool, hides, corn,
firewood, fish, and all kinds of commodities. It was probably to
Queenhithe that the wine fleet which brought to London the produce of
the vineyards of the banks of the Moselle was bound. In the _Liber
Custumarum_ there is a full account of the yearly visit of this fleet,
and the regulations as to its arrival at the New Wear, in the vicinity
of Yanlade (the present Yantlet Creek), at the mouth of the Medway,
which was the limit of the civic jurisdiction of the Thames. Here it was
the duty of the fleet of adventurous hulks and keels 'to arrange
themselves in due order and raise their ensign; the crews being at
liberty, if so inclined, to sing their kiriele or song of praise and
thanksgiving, 'according to the old law,' until London Bridge was
reached. Arrived here, and the drawbridge duly raised, they were for a
certain time to lie moored off the wharf.... Here they were to remain at
their moorings two ebbs and a flood; during which period the merchants
were to sell no part of their cargo, it being the duty of one of the
Sheriffs and the King's Chamberlain to board each vessel in the
meantime.... The two ebbs and a flood expired, and the officials having
duly made their purchases or declined to do so, the wine-ship was
allowed to lie alongside the wharf, the tuns of wine being disposed of
under certain regulations, apparently meant as a precaution against
picking and choosing, to such merchants as might present themselves as
customers, those of London having the priority, and those of Winchester
coming next.'[70] The boats were bound to leave London by the end of
forty days.
Mr. Riley refers to the fondness of the merchants in the Middle Ages for
music on board ship, and quotes from M. Michel (_Recherches sur les
Etoffes_, etc., tome ii. p. 63) the following:--
'En mer sempaignent, et drescerent lor voilles;
Li jugleor leanz les esbanoient.'
'They put to sea, and set their sails;
The jongleurs on board amused them.'
Another passage from the _Roman de Tristan_, tome ii. p. 64, 1375-1378,
quoted by Riley, is also very much to the point:--
'A sun batel en va amunt,
Dreit a Lundres, desuz le punt;
Sa marchandise iloc descovre,
Ses dras de seie pleie e ovre.'
'On board his bark he goes straight to London, beneath the bridge;
his merchandise he there shows, his cloths of silk smooths and
opens out.'
Mr Riley gives an interesting account of the localities adjoining the
northern banks of the Thames in the fourteenth century:--
'The banks of the Thames from the Postern of Petit Wales [near the
Tower], so far probably as the Friars Preachers, or Black Friars, near
the entrance of the Fleet River, seem to have been intersected in these
times by numberless small lanes, which, themselves public property, ran
from Thames Street, by the side of a private residence or other edifice,
and led to the owner's wharf in front of his dwelling-house; these
wharfs again, in some instances, being separated by water-gates, through
which apparently the public had a right to claim, as an easement, right
of passage. From many of the wharfs there also projected bridges or
jetties into the river, for the same purposes as the stairs of modern
times.'[71]
Many of the wharves on the Thames were known as gates besides
Billingsgate, as Ebbgate, identical with the present Old Swan Lane and
Wharf, Upper Thames Street, and Oystergate, on the site of the north end
of the present London Bridge. The latter was the principal place for the
sale of shell-fish, which was only to be sold 'from the way of London
Bridge towards the west, unto the corner of the wall of the Church of
St. Mary Magdalene.'[72] Oystergate was also a place of great resort for
the sellers of rushes, who paid a small rent for their standing.
We learn from Fitz-Stephen that 'London formerly had walls and towers in
like manner in the south, but that most excellent river the Thames,
which abounds with fish, and in which the tide ebbs and flows, runs on
that side, and has in a long space of time washed down, undermined and
subverted the walls in that part.' Whether there were gates or not along
the river front of London, there can be little doubt that there were not
structures at all the places named gates, many of these were doubtless
merely ways. This use of the word gate is common enough in the South, as
in Ramsgate, Margate, Sandgate, etc.
There appear to have been constant attempts made by the landowners on
the Thames to close the lanes leading to the river, thus preventing the
free access of the public. Special complaint was made before the Mayor
and Sheriffs in 1360 against the Prior of St. John of Jerusalem for
closing the right-of-way through the Temple. This place having come into
the possession of the Knights Hospitallers of St. John after the
suppression of the Order of Knights Templars. The evidence of John de
Hydyngham and eleven others was taken--'Who say upon their oath, that
time out of mind the commonalty of the city aforesaid have been wont to
have free ingress and egress with horses and carts from sunrise to
sunset, for carrying and carting all manner of victuals and wares
therefrom to the water of Thames, and from the said water of Thames to
the city aforesaid through the great gate of the Templars, situate
within Temple Bar, in the ward aforesaid, in the suburb of London; that
the possessors of the Temple were wont, and by right ought to maintain a
bridge at the water aforesaid' [a pier or jetty for landing called
Tempelbrigge]. 'They say also, that the Prior of St. John of Jerusalem
in England, who is the possessor of the Temple aforesaid, molests the
citizens of the said city, so that they cannot have their free ingress
and egress through the gate aforesaid, as of old they were wont to
have.'[73]
The prior did not like this interference with his doings on the part of
the city, and in 1374 he obtained from Edward III. a royal order to stay
proceedings. The order, addressed to the Mayor, Recorder and Aldermen of
London, after recapitulating the terms of complaint, proceeds: 'We,
deeming it not to be consonant with reason that this matter, seeing that
it concerns you and the commonalty aforesaid, should be discussed before
you, inasmuch as a party ought not to be judge in his own cause, and
taking into consideration that if the bridge aforesaid, which has been
intended for the advantage and easement of the nobles and others coming
to our Parliaments and Councils, and wishing to reach their barges and
boats, these should be broken by the laying of stone and timber thereon,
it would be greatly to the prejudice of such persons; and desiring for
the reasons aforesaid, that this matter shall be discussed and
determined before our Council, where justice therein unto you as well as
to the prior aforesaid may speedily be done; do command you, that you
appear before our said Council at Westminster, on that day month after
Easter Day next to come.'[74] This question of the exclusion of the
common people from certain wharves and stairs continued for many years
to be a burning one. In 1417 an Ordinance of the Mayor and Aldermen was
issued forbidding this exclusion, which commences as follows: 'Whereas
heretofore, and now also from day to day, many persons dwelling in the
city and the suburbs of London, more consulting and attending to their
private profit and advantage than to the common good and convenience, do
hold certain wharves and stairs on the bank of the Thames, which are
held by encroachment upon, and are situate on, the common soil and the
course of the water, without having any licence or paying anything to
the community for the same; and then, the same being by favour obtained
and colourably appropriated, have mixed up their own and separate soil
and land therewith; and what is even worse, from day to day these
persons do make new customs and imposts upon the poor common people, who
time out of mind have there fetched and taken up their water, and washed
their clothes, and done other things for their own needs, maliciously
interfering with them in their said franchise, and demanding and taking
from such as resort thereto, from some one halfpenny, and from others
one penny, two or more, by the quarter, to the great injury of all the
commonalty, and expressly against the good usages and ancient customs of
all the city.' After this preamble, the Mayor and Aldermen, with the
assent of the Commons, 'ordained and established, for all time to come,
that no person who dwells on the bank of the Thames, or other person
whatsoever, having or holding any wharf or stair, situate or encroaching
upon the common soil, to which there has been, or been accustomed to be,
common resort of the people heretofore for such needs as aforesaid,
shall from henceforth disturb, hinder, or molest, any one in fetching,
drawing and taking water, or in beating and washing their clothes, or in
doing or executing other reasonable things and needs there; or shall
demand or take privily or openly, from any person any manner of sum or
piece of money, or other thing whatsoever for custom.'[75]
Many of these alleys and lanes were left in a very objectionable
condition, but the consideration of their state must be postponed for
chapter 7 on the Health and Sanitation of London. In spite of all the
recorded impurities of the streets the water of the river was pure, as
may be proved from the fact that fishing was general. In 1343 an
Inquisition was held before the Mayor and Aldermen as to the use of
unlawful nets, or those whose meshes were less than 2 inches wide, when
it was found that four nets were good and were to be given back to the
owners, and four were false and to be burnt. The custom of the city was
that the meshes of the nets should be two inches wide at least, so that
small fish could pass through.[76]
In the next year certain fishmongers were appointed inspectors 'to make
scrutiny as to false nets placed in the water of Thames, from the place
called "Yenlete" [Yantlet] on the east, as far as the bridge of Stanes
on the west, for taking the small fish, to the destruction of the fish
of such water; and to bring such nets to the Guildhall when found.'[77]
In another document, also of the year 1344, three nets are mentioned by
name, all of which were found to be false, and were burnt near the Stone
Cross by the north door of St. Paul's, in the high street of
Chepe--these were a draynet belonging to the Abbot of Stratford, a
second net called a codnet, belonging to Robert Pesok of Plumstede, and
third net called a kidel, claimed by no one.[78] A codnet was a net
with a cod or pouch containing a stone for sinking the net (also called
a pursnet), and a kidel was a net used in kidels or weirs. There were
several different classes of fishermen, as 'trinkermen,' who used trinks
or nets attached to posts or anchors for taking fish, and petermen, who
used a broom in fishing, 'beating the bush.'[79] There are many other
references to the burning of false nets in the City Archives. From
certain regulations of the year 1388, we learn that 'no man shall fish
in the Thames with any nets but those of the Assize ordained at the
Guildhall; and that only at the proper seasons. And that no one shall
fish near to the wharves in London, between the Temple Bridge and the
Tower, within a distance of twenty fathoms.'[80]
_The Bridge._--It is supposed that during the early years of the Roman
occupation there was a ferry across from London to Southwark, but that a
bridge was built when Roman London had become a place of importance. We
have already seen that a wooden bridge existed during the Saxon period.
This must have been constantly rebuilt, and the last wooden bridge
continued for many years after the Norman Conquest. The first stone
bridge was commenced in the year 1176, under the superintendence of
Peter de Colechurch, chaplain of St. Mary Colechurch, a building which
stood in the Old Jewry until the time of the Great Fire, when it was
destroyed. Peter died in 1205, and was buried in the crypt of the chapel
built over the centre pier of the bridge and dedicated to St. Thomas of
Canterbury. Here the chaplain's bones were found in 1832, when the old
bridge was cleared away after the opening of the new bridge. So little
public interest was taken in relics of the past at this time that the
bones were sacrilegiously, flung into a barge along with the accumulated
rubbish and destroyed by careless workmen.
The building of the stone bridge was a long operation, and in 1201 King
John entrusted its completion to a Frenchman named Isembert. The King
seems to have made a careful choice, for the Frenchman had already shown
his skill by the erection of fine bridges in the French cities of
Saintes and La Rochelle. M. Jusserand, in his _English Wayfaring Life in
the Middle Ages_, quotes from the Original Patent, published by Hearne
in his edition of the _Liber Niger Scaccarii_ (1771, vol. i. p. 470).
Jusserand also quotes from Hearne as to a series of Letters Patent
relating to the maintenance of the bridge. John ordered certain taxes to
be devoted to this purpose, and a patent of Henry III. was addressed 'to
the brothers and chaplains of the Chapel of St. Thomas on London Bridge,
and to other persons living on the same bridge,' to inform them that the
officers of St. Katharine's Hospital by the Tower would receive the
revenues and take charge of the repairs of the bridge for five years.
After the Battle of Evesham in 1265, when the city was at the King's
mercy, Henry III. granted his Queen the custody of the bridge:
'Alianore, by the grace of God, Queen of England, Lady of Ireland,
Duchess of Aquitaine, and by our lord the King Henry, Warden of the
Bridge House.' The Queen continued to enjoy the rents and lands
belonging to the bridge for nearly six years, during which time the
repair of the bridge was neglected. Realising at length how matters
stood, she restored it to the citizens, who, on 1st September 1271,
elected again their own wardens.[81]
Early in the reign of Edward I. (1281) a patent was issued ordering a
general collection throughout the kingdom on account of the bad
condition of the bridge. A tariff of tolls was also issued, and pontage
was exacted from all vessels for the passage of which the drawbridge
was raised. One William Cross, a fishmonger, was 'sworn to well and
faithfully receive all issues of rents of London Bridge, and also all
other money accruing to the said bridge from whatever cause ... and to
expend the same well and faithfully for the use and benefit of the
aforesaid bridge.'[82]
In the 26 of Edward I. the rents of a house called 'Le Hales' were
appropriated for the support of London Bridge, and this is recorded in
the _Liber Custumarum_.[83] It is not known where this house was
situated. Riley conjectures that it was a great house in Stocks Market,
but Dr. Sharpe suggests that it is just as likely to have been one of a
large number of houses which Henry le Galeys (or Waleys) erected by
licence of the King (Anno 10 Edw. I.) near Old Change and St. Paul's,
the profits of which were also devoted to the support of the bridge.[84]
A stone was fixed before each of these tenements in token of the duty of
the tenants to repair the bridge, but these appear to have been removed
in the same reign by Walter Hervy, appruator of the city, a title which
Riley translated as improver.[85]
The bridge was built on piles, and must have been solidly constructed,
for although it needed from the first a great deal of cobbling, and
underwent much alteration, it survived almost to our own day. It
consisted of twenty arches, nineteen of stone, and one of wood--the
drawbridge. By this drawbridge was the tower or storehouse, upon which
the heads of traitors were set up. This became decayed, and was taken
down in April 1577. The heads were removed and set on the gate at the
Bridge-foot towards Southwark. On the 28th August Sir John Langley, Lord
Mayor, laid the first stone of a foundation for a new tower, in the
same
[Illustration: Old London Bridge from St Olave's Church.]
place, which tower was finished in September 1579.[86] The great wonder
of the bridge was the beautiful wooden structure, called Nonesuch House,
which stood on the seventh and eighth arches from the Southwark side,
and gave its name to the Nonesuch lock.
The great weight of the buildings caused occasional sinkings and a
general insecurity. In 1481 it is recorded that a block of buildings
toppled over into the river. In 1633 a fire swept from one end of the
bridge to the other, and many of the houses were destroyed, which were
not rebuilt. In 1757-1758 all the remaining houses were cleared away in
order to make the structure more secure.
The bridge was one of the chief sights of London, and a great deal of
history has grown up about it, but it would require a volume to do
justice to these circumstances. One of the most curious of these was the
duel between Sir David Lindsay, Earl of Crawfurd, and John Lord Welles
(fifth Baron), Ambassador at the Scottish Court in 1390. Lord Crawfurd
chose the place, and, furnished with a safe conduct from Richard II.,
came from Scotland to London for this special purpose. The duel took
place in this apparently inappropriate locality in the presence of a
great concourse of sightseers.
Most of the travellers in England who have written on the subject speak
of the bridge with high praise. Frederick Duke of Wirtemberg, who
visited this country in 1592, was pleased with what he saw, and his
secretary wrote: 'Over the river at London there is a beautiful long
bridge, with quite splendid, handsome and well-built houses, which are
occupied by merchants of consequence. Upon one of the towers, nearly in
the middle of the bridge, are stuck up about thirty-four heads of
persons of distinction, who had in former times been condemned and
beheaded for creating riots and from other causes.' It will be seen from
this passage that when the new tower was built the heads which had been
removed during the rebuilding to the Bridge-foot were taken back to the
new tower. Six years later Hentzner wrote of London Bridge as 'a bridge
of stone, 800 feet in length, of wonderful work; it is supported upon 20
piers of square stone, 60 feet high and 30 broad, joined by arches of
about 20 feet diameter. The whole is covered on each side with houses,
so disposed as to have the appearance of a continued street, not at all
of a bridge.' Correr, the Venetian Ambassador in 1610, states that the
bridge was so narrow that it was very difficult for two coaches meeting
to pass each other without danger.[87]
Englishmen were not behindhand in singing the praises of the bridge;
thus Lyly wrote in _Euphues and his England_: 'Among all the straunge
and beautiful showes, mee thinketh there is none so notable as the
bridge which crosseth the Theames, which is in manner of a continuall
streete, well replenyshed with large and stately houses on both sides,
and situate upon twentie arches, whereof each one is made of excellent
free stone squared, everie one of them being three score foote in
height, and full twentie in distaunce one from another.'
The chapel on the bridge had an endowment for two priests or chaplains,
four clerks and other brethren, with certain chantries annexed. A
dwelling-house was afterwards attached to the chapel, which, at the
close of the thirteenth century, was known as the Bridge House. In the
year 1298 John de Leuesham [Lewisham], brother of the London 'Bridge
House,' was made bailiff of the manor of Lewisham, 'the proceeds of
which were then, as they still are, devoted to the maintenance and
repair of the bridge.'[88]
In the folklore of bridges the frequent practice in the Middle Ages of
building a chapel forms a special feature of the subject. There are
several instances still remaining, one of which is the chapel of the old
bridge at Bradford-on-Avon.
The waterway of the Thames was obstructed by the bridge, which formed a
sort of lock to keep the waters in the upper portion of the river. The
widest of the arches was 36 feet, and some were too narrow for the
passage of boats of any kind. The resistance caused to so large a body
of water on the rise and fall of the tide by the contraction of its
channel produced a fall or rapid under the bridge. 'With the flood-tide
it was impossible, and with the ebb-tide dangerous to pass through or
shoot the arches of the bridge.' In the latter case prudent passengers
landed above bridge, generally at the Old Swan Stairs, and walked to
some wharf, generally Billingsgate.
In 1428, according to Stow, the Duke of Norfolk was like to be drowned
passing from Saint Mary Overy Stairs through London Bridge. His barge
was overset and thirty persons drowned. In _A Chronicle of London_
(edited by Nicolas) we read 'as God wolde, the duke hymself and too or
iij othere gentylmen seeynge that myschief, leped upon the pyles and so
were saved through helpe of them that weren above the brigge, with
castyng down of ropes.' Many such accidents were constantly occurring,
so that there was probably truth in one of Ray's Proverbs: 'London
Bridge was made for wise men to go over and fools to go under.' That
boats were frequently overturned is proved by Norden's View of London
Bridge, in which boats, bottom upwards, fill the foreground.
[Illustration: THE TOWER OF LONDON.]
CHAPTER V
_The King's Palace--The Tower_
The Tower of London has existed for over eight centuries, and long
before the Conquest the site was occupied by a Roman fortification. It
is the most time-honoured building in Great Britain, and probably the
foremost building (not a ruin) in the world.
With so much in London that is new, it is a source of the deepest pride
to every Londoner that there is a relic of the past of unequalled
interest, on whose walls are written the chief incidents of the history
of England. The name has long been a puzzle, but Mr. Horace Round has
explained it, and thus thrown a fresh light upon the study of Norman
military architecture.
There were two different kinds of fortified places during the mediæval
period, viz., (1) the Roman 'castrum,' or 'castellum,' which survived
in the fortified enclosure, and (2) the mediæval 'motte,' or 'tour,'
which survived in the central keep. When the 'tour' coalesced with the
'castellum,' a name was required for the entire fortress. Sometimes the
keep was added to the castle, and sometimes the castle to the keep. It
was then a question which word should prevail,--'tour' (turris), or
chastel (castellum). Generally, the word castle has prevailed, but the
respective strongholds in the capitals of Normandy and England were the
'Tour de Rouen,' and the 'Tower of London.'[89]
Gray alludes to the 'towers of Julius,' and Shakespeare's reference to
the place is equally erroneous:--
'_Prince Edward._ I do not like the Tower of any place,
Did Julius Cæsar build that place, my lord?
_Buckingham._ He did, my gracious lord, begin that place,
Which since succeeding ages have re-edified.
_Prince Edward._ Is it upon record, or else reported
Successively from age to age, he built it?
_Buckingham._ Upon record, my gracious lord.'
(_Richard III._, act iii. sc. i.)
Of course, Julius Cæsar had nothing to do with the Tower, but the Roman
remains that have been discovered on the site prove that this grand
strategical position had been utilised from the early period of London's
history.
Mr. George T. Clark writes: 'When, having crossed the Thames, the
Conqueror marched in person to complete the investment of London, he
found that ancient city resting upon the left bank of its river,
protected on its landward side by a strong wall, a Roman work, with
mural towers and an exterior ditch.'[90]
In 1777 some Roman coins were discovered, and a double wedge of silver,
inscribed 'Ex officina Honorii,' which makes the conjecture probable,
that at this early period, as in later times, the buildings on the site
of the Tower were used as a mint.
William the Conqueror was crowned in 1066, and Mr. Clark says that 'it
was from Barking, immediately after the ceremony, that he directed the
actual commencement of the works, which were no doubt at first a deep
ditch and strong palisade; for the keep, probably the earliest work in
masonry, appears not to have been begun till twelve or fourteen years
later.'[91]
The keep (known later as the White Tower) was built by Gundulf, a monk
of Bec, who in 1077, soon after his arrival in England, was consecrated
Bishop of Rochester. We learn from the _Textus Roffensis_, written about
the year 1143, that Gundulf, while employed upon the Tower, lodged at
the house of Eadmer Anhoende, a burgess of London, but he is not
supposed to have commenced the building until 1078.
A great work such as the construction of the Tower of London took many
years to complete. It is supposed that although the Conqueror, to a
great extent, planned the fortress, he did not build more than the inner
ward. The existing 'curtain' of the inner ward (9 to 12 feet thick, and
from 39 to 40 feet high) is thought by Clark to be the work of William
Rufus.
In November 1091 there was a violent storm which did immense damage in
London. Stow says in his Chronicle that 'the Tower of London was also
broken,' and in the _Survey_ he further writes that the Tower was sore
shaken by the tempest of wind, but was repaired by William Rufus and
Henry I. Clark doubts this, but adds that the outworks, both wall and
towers, if in course of construction, with scaffolding about them,
probably suffered severely. He further writes: 'The Tower, therefore, of
the close of the reign of Rufus, and of those of Henry I., and Stephen,
was probably composed of the White Tower, with a palace ward upon its
south-east side, and a wall, probably that we now see, and certainly
along its general course, including what is known as the inner ward. No
doubt there was a ditch, but probably not a very formidable one.'[92]
Fitz-Stephen is not very full in his description of the Tower. He merely
says: 'On the east stands the Palatine Tower, a fortress of great size
and strength, the court and walls of which are erected upon a very deep
foundation, the mortar used in the building being tempered with the
blood of beasts.'
The Tower is believed to owe much to Henry III., who made extensive
alterations and additions. The new works were unpopular among the
citizens, and as some of them were unfortunate, a legend came into
existence to account for the misfortune. St. Thomas's Tower and the
'Traitor's Gate' beneath it were in course of construction in 1240, when
on St. George's night the gateway and wall fell down. They were at once
re-erected, but in the following year they again fell down. The story,
as told by Matthew Paris, is that on the night of the second fall a
certain grave and reverend priest saw a robed archbishop, cross in hand,
who gazed sternly upon the walls, with which the King was then girdling
the Tower, and striking them sharply, asked: 'Why build ye there?' on
which the newly-built work fell, as though shattered by an earthquake.
The priest, too alarmed to accost the prelate, addressed himself to the
shade of an attendant clerk: 'Who, then, is the archbishop?' 'St. Thomas
the Martyr,' was the answer, 'by birth a citizen, who resents these
works, undertaken in scorn, and to the prejudice of the citizens, and
destroys them beyond the power of restoration!' On which the priest
remarked: 'What outlay and labour of the hands he has destroyed!' 'Had
it been,' said the clerk, 'simply that the starving and needy artificers
thence promised themselves food, it had been tolerable; but seeing that
the works were undertaken, not for the defence of the realm, but to the
hurt of the citizens, even had not St. Thomas destroyed them, they had
been swept away utterly by St. Edmund, his successor.' This was Edmund
of Abingdon, who died in 1240. The works were resumed, and in spite of
the powerful opposition of St. Thomas, they were completely successful,
and the rebuilding was strong and satisfactory.
The outer ward is supposed to have been completed by Henry III. It is a
strip of from 20 feet to 110 feet in breadth, which completely surrounds
the inner ward, and is itself contained within the ditch, of which its
wall forms the scarp.
The Tower has been (1) a fortress, and so it remains to the present day;
(2) a palace, and (3) a prison. We can now consider it under these three
aspects, merely mentioning in passing that it was also a mint, an
armoury, and a record office.
_The Tower as a Fortress._--It was regarded as impregnable in the reign
of Stephen, when it was specially required by the King as a fortress,
and during the whole mediæval period it was always a place of strong
defence. It does not appear ever to have endured a siege of any
importance, but if it had, it would doubtless have successfully resisted
attack.
The Byward Tower is the great gatehouse of the outer ward, and the
Middle Tower is its outwork. There was formerly a drawbridge across the
ditch or moat, where now there is a stone bridge 130 feet wide. The
gateway to the Bloody or Garden Tower is the main entrance to the inner
ward. The inner ward is enclosed within a curtain wall having four
sides, twelve mural towers, and a gatehouse. Wakefield Tower, known
also as the Record Tower and as the Hall Tower, is, in its lower storey,
next in antiquity to the White Tower.
Commencing with Wakefield, and passing westward, the towers are Bloody
(where the Duke of Clarence is supposed to have been drowned in Malmsey,
and the two sons of Edward IV. smothered), Bell (so called from an alarm
bell in the little turret), Beauchamp (from Thomas de Beauchamp, Earl of
Warwick, and also called Cobham Tower, after Lord Cobham), Devereux
(after Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, also called 'Robyn the Devyll's
Tower,') Flint, Bowyer (so called because it was the residence and
workshop of the royal maker of bows), Brick (previously Burbidge),
Martin (or Jewel, at one time styled Brick Tower), Constable's, Broad
Arrow, Salt (meaning saltpetre; in the sixteenth century it was known as
Julius Cæsar's Tower), and Lanthorn (called in 1532 the New Tower; it
was pulled down in 1788, after a fire).
The wall of the outer ward has upon it bold drum bastions at the angles
of the north front; and the south or Thames front is protected by five
mural towers, of which one covers the landgate and one the watergate,
and two others are connected with posterns. These towers are Develin
(called 'Galighmaies Tower' in 4 Ric. II.), Well, Cradle, St. Thomas's
(over Traitor's Gate), and Byward.
Mr. Clark writes: 'The Tower, at the commencement of the present
century, was an extraordinary jumble of ancient and later buildings, the
towers and walls being almost completely encrusted by the small official
dwellings by which the area was closely occupied. A great fire in 1841
removed the unsightly armoury of James II. and William III. on the north
of the inner ward, but the authorities at the time were not ripe for a
fire. The armoury was replaced by a painfully-durable Tudor barrack, and
the repairs and additions were made with little reference to the
character of the fortress. More recently, the general improvement in
public taste has made its way even into the Tower.'[93]
The Tower is still a fortress. Each night the mediæval ceremony of
locking the gates takes place; after which no one can enter without the
password, and this after the manner at fortresses is changed daily. The
password is always communicated to the Lord Mayor, who each quarter
receives a list containing the password for each day in the coming three
months. Residents in the Tower can enter until twelve midnight, when the
wickets are locked by the yeoman on 'watch duty' and no one is allowed
to enter after that hour, unless they give the password.
At a few minutes before eleven the yeoman porter takes his keys and
applies to the serjeant for the 'escort for the keys.' The serjeant
acquaints the officer, and the officer placing the guard under arms,
furnishes a serjeant and four men. Two of the men are unarmed. Their
duty is to assist in closing the gates, and to carry the ancient
lantern, which contains a tallow candle. The procession is formed, and
the yeoman porter with the keys places himself in the midst of the
escort. He goes the round of the gates, and when he returns to the main
guard, the sentry at the guard-room challenges--
'Halt! Who comes there?'
'The keys,' replies the yeoman porter.
'Whose keys?'
'King Edward's keys.'
'Advance King Edward's keys.'
The yeoman porter places himself in front of the guard. The guard
present arms and the yeoman porter says, 'God preserve King Edward,'
and the guard from the officer to the drummer answer, 'Amen.'
The keys are then carried by the yeoman porter to the King's House, to
be delivered into the charge of the officer of the Tower in command. A
similar escort is called for by the yeoman porter when the gates are
opened in the morning, but no ceremony takes place at that time, nor
does the guard turn out. Mediævalism is in our very midst, and here, at
all events, mediæval London still exists.
_The Tower as a Palace._--Most of our Kings from the Conqueror to
Charles II. used the Tower as a palace; those who feared their subjects
sheltered themselves there, but those who were popular preferred the
comfort of Westminster and Whitehall. Mr Clark says that 'the strong
monarchs employed the Tower as a prison, the weak ones as a fortress.'
After the Middle Ages had closed the sovereigns kept out of the Tower as
much as they could, and seldom visited it unless they were officially
obliged, and these visits were almost confined to a lodging there on the
day before the coronation. Charles II. was the last sovereign to carry
out this convention.
William I., William II. and Henry I., all three inhabited the Tower, but
it was not till the reign of Stephen that its value as a place of refuge
was proved.
With the Empress Matilda at Winchester and King Stephen at London the
state of public affairs, with sieges and countersieges, in which neither
party gained any great success, came to a deadlock. Stephen, in 1140,
sought safety in the Tower in close proximity to his trusty
followers--the Londoners, but in the following year he was made a
prisoner at Lincoln. The Londoners attended the synod at Winchester and
requested the King's release, but without avail. Geoffrey de Mandeville,
Constable of the Tower of London (whose faithless conduct in these
civil wars has been fully set out by Mr. Horace Round),[94] had been
made Earl of Essex by Stephen, but when the Empress came to London he
had no compunction in transferring his allegiance to her, for which
conduct she loaded him with honours. He was, however, short-sighted in
his action, for Matilda treated the Londoners with such contumely that
they rose against her and drove her from the city. They also attacked
Mandeville in the Tower, but this Mr. Facing-both-ways, finding that the
Empress Matilda had fled, and the Queen Matilda (Stephen's wife) taken
her place in London, saw no objection to supporting the latter's cause.
Stephen was soon afterwards released, and he again honoured Geoffrey de
Mandeville. No amount of special favour, however, was sufficient to keep
this man to his allegiance, and he planned a revolt in favour of the
Empress. This came to naught, and the King captured the fortifications
erected by the Earl at Farringdon and took him prisoner. Mandeville took
no more part in public affairs, and ended his life as a marauding
freebooter in September 1143. Thus ignominiously came to a conclusion
the career of a man who held a foremost place in London. He was not wise
in his conduct, because in the words of the Empress's charter to him, he
made the Londoners 'his mortal foes.' As Dr. Sharpe says of these same
Londoners, they 'throughout the long period of civil dissension were
generally to be found on the winning side, and held, as it were, the
balance between the rival powers.'[95]
In John's reign London opened its gates to the forces of the Barons,
organised under Robert Fitz-Walter, Castellan of London, as 'Marshal of
the army of God and Holy Church.' During the period that the Barons
were at war with John, Prince Louis of France lived in the Tower prior
to his renunciation of all right of sovereignty in England, and his
return to France.
Henry III., in 1236, summoned the Council to meet him in the Tower, but
the Barons had so little faith in their King that they refused to
assemble there. The King was satisfied to be safe in the Tower in 1263,
while Simon de Montfort, with the barons, pitched tents at Isleworth.
The Londoners were distinctly disloyal, and Stow tells us that 'when the
Queene woulde have gone by water unto Windsore, the Londoners getting
them to ye bridge in great numbers, under the which she must passe,
cryed out on her, using many vile reprochfull words, threwe durte and
stones at her, that shee was constrained to returne again to the
Towre.'[96]
In Edward I.'s reign Raymund Lully, the alchemist, is said to have taken
up his residence in the Tower at the King's desire, and to have
performed in the royal presence the experiment of transmuting some
crystal into a mass of diamond or adamant, of which the King is said to
have made little pillars for the tabernacle of God. The biographers of
Lully, however, express the belief that he never visited England.
Edward II. seldom visited the Tower, except when he sought shelter from
his subjects. His Queen gave birth there to her eldest daughter, who was
known as Jane of the Tower. His second son, John of Eltham, who was born
on August 15, 1316, was appointed Warden of the City of London and
Warden of the Tower when he was ten years of age. In 1328, a year after
his father's death, John of Eltham was created Earl of Cornwall, and in
1336 he himself died.
The first years of Edward III.'s reign were spent in the Tower, and the
King was forced to remain there till he had put down Mortimer and was
able to assume the government himself. He made many additions to the
buildings, and Clark supposes that he built the Beauchamp and Salt
Towers, and perhaps the Bowyer. The King took great pride in the Tower,
which he made his chief arsenal, and strongly fortified and garrisoned.
Hence his anger in 1340 when he unexpectedly returned to England and
found the Tower unguarded. His first act was to imprison the Constable
and other officers for their negligence. The Mayor, the Clerk of the
Exchequer, and many others whose duty it was to raise or receive the
subsidies which had been granted were thrown into prison.[97]
The Tower stands out very prominently in the history of the reign of
Richard II. We have already seen in the second chapter what crimes were
perpetrated there during the Peasants' Revolt in 1381.
In 1390 a grand international tournament was arranged, when many
foreigners of distinction became the guests of the King in the Tower.
On the 29th of September 1399, in the Council Room of the White Tower,
occurred that sad scene when Richard in his kingly robes, sceptre in
hand and crown upon his head, abdicated his throne, saying: 'I have been
King of England, Duke of Aquitaine and Lord of Ireland about twenty-one
years, which seigniory, royalty, sceptre, crown and heritage I clearly
resign here to my cousin, Henry of Lancaster; and I desire him here in
this open presence in entering the same possession to take the sceptre.'
So closed the career of a King whose sun rose with so much promise, only
to set in misfortune and leave behind him the recollection of one of the
greatest disappointments of history.
Henry VI. had a sorry time in the Tower, but the incidents connected
with the constant vicissitudes, which at one time raised the fortunes of
the Yorkists and at another those of the Lancastrians, caused so many
changes in the occupation of the Tower that it is impossible to note
here all that took place. When the Yorkist Earls of Salisbury, Warwick
and March returned to England in 1460 they marched on London, but the
Common Council determined to oppose their entrance into the city. This
arrangement was agreed on with Lords Scales and Hungerford who, with
others, held the Tower for King Henry. The citizens, however, after a
time began to doubt the wisdom of supporting the imbecile Henry, so on
July 2 they admitted the Yorkist earls into the city. While London was
thus on the side of the Yorkists the Tower remained true to the King,
but every effort was made to obtain the surrender of the fortress. The
Tower was invested by land and water, and the garrison was starved out
and had to surrender.
In the following year the Earl of March became King as Edward IV., and
made himself agreeable to his subjects. When in 1464 he married
Elizabeth Woodville the citizens showed their respect for the Queen by
riding out to meet her and escorting her to the Tower, besides
presenting her with a gift of 1000 marks.
A change occurred in 1470, when Edward had to fly and Henry was
restored. Henry VI., no longer a prisoner, was removed from his cell to
the palace, but soon afterwards he was taken to the Bishop of London's
palace at St. Paul's. In the following year, however, Edward recovered
the throne, and was let into London by the Recorder and some aldermen.
In May 1471, when Edward IV. was out of the city, Thomas (the natural
son of William Nevill, first Lord Fauconberg, Earl of Kent), known as
the Bastard Falconbridge, headed a rising of Kentish men and marched on
London in support of Henry VI. He was supported by a fleet in the
river. With the help of a company of shipmen and other followers he made
an attempt to force Bishopsgate, Aldgate, and the Bridge. Some of his
followers got through Aldgate, but the portcullis being let down those
who had entered were cut off from the main body and lost their lives. A
few days after this unsuccessful assault (May 21) King Henry was
murdered in the Tower.
The name of Richard III. was intimately associated with the Council
Chamber, and the consideration of the particulars of his violent methods
helps us to obtain a vivid picture of the dark passages filled with
armed men ready to do the wicked will of their employer.
The most memorable of these scenes occurred when the Council was
sitting. Suddenly there is a cry of 'Treason' from the adjoining
apartment. Gloucester rushes to the door and is met by a party of
soldiers, who at his command arrest all the Council but the Duke of
Buckingham. The astonished nobles have scarcely time to recover from
their surprise before they see from the windows of their prison Lord
Hastings beheaded on Tower Green.
In the following reign, when Henry VII. fixed the day for the coronation
of his Queen--November 25, 1487--she came by water from Greenwich two
days before, attended by the Mayor, Sheriffs and Aldermen, and many
citizens, chosen some from each craft, wearing their liveries, in barges
'freshly furnished with banners and streamers of silk.' One of the
barges, called the Bachelors', contained 'many gentlemanly pageants,
well and curiously devised to do her highness sport and pleasure.' The
King received the Queen at the Tower.
Much might be said of the doings of Henry VIII., Edward VI., Queens Mary
and Elizabeth, James I. and Charles I., but there is no room in this
book for a complete history of the Tower, and we must therefore hurry
on in order to give some notice of a few of the celebrated prisoners.
There could never have been much accommodation in the White Tower (so
called on account of the white-washing it received in the reign of Henry
III.) as a suitable residence for the sovereign, so that as the
centuries passed and more comfort was expected by all classes, Kings and
Queens would naturally expect to be better cared for. A palace was
therefore built in the inner ward, and the Lanthorn Tower formed a part
of this palace, containing as it did the King's bed-chamber and his
private closet. These buildings appear to have fallen into decay in the
reign of Elizabeth, by whom or by James the great hall was removed. Some
were destroyed by Cromwell, and others by James II., to make room for a
new Ordnance office, and the remains of the Lanthorn Tower were taken
down late in the eighteenth century[98] (1788).
That royalty was not always well-housed may be seen by a recorded case
in the reign of Edward II. Johannes de Crombwelle, Constable of the
Tower, gave great offence to the citizens by reason of certain of his
high-handed actions, and in the end he was dismissed from his office,
but the reason given for his dismissal was not on account of the
offensive acts complained of, but for neglect of duties, by which the
rooms were allowed to remain out of repair, and because the rain came in
upon the Queen's bed.[99]
Some particulars are given in the _Liber Albus_ respecting the legal
position of the Tower. When the Exchequer was closed the Mayor was to be
presented at the Tower, and the Pleas of the City with the Crown were
sometimes held there; and when this was the case the city barons were to
place their own 'janitors'
[Illustration: ST. JOHN'S CHAPEL IN THE TOWER.]
outside the Tower gate, and the King's janitor was to be on the inside.
They further had an 'ostiarius' outside the door of the hall when the
pleas were held, to introduce the barons, and the King had an
'ostiarius' inside. Mr. Clark supposes the hall to have been the
building afterwards superseded by the office of Ordnance, 'and the
entrance to which is thought to have been by the modernised doorway
close east of the Wakefield Tower.'[100]
St. John's Chapel is one of the most interesting ecclesiastical
buildings in England. It is a singularly fine example of Early Norman
architecture, and many historical events are associated with it. The
triforium was used as a gallery, and it is supposed that the Queens and
their maids of honour sat there at the services.
It is traditionally reported that in front of the old altar (now
replaced by a new one) Brackenbury, when kneeling at prayer, was tempted
by the emissaries of Richard of Gloucester to make away with the young
Princes--a suggestion which he indignantly repudiated. Here also Mary I.
was betrothed to Philip of Spain.
One important appanage of the palace was the menagerie of wild beasts,
which was placed near the entrance at a very early date. Henry I. kept
lions and leopards, and Henry III. added to the collection. Stow tells
us that in the year 1235 Frederick the Emperor sent to Henry III. three
leopards in token of his regal shield of arms wherein those leopards
were pictured, since the which time those lions and others have been
kept in a part of this bulwark, now called the Lion Tower, and their
keepers there lodged. In 1255 the sheriffs built a house 'for the King's
elephant,' which was brought from France and was the first seen in
England.
Edward II., in the twelfth year of his reign, 'commanded the Sheriffs of
London to pay to the keeper of the King's leopard sixpence the day for
the sustenance of the leopard, and three halfpence a day for diet of the
said keeper.'
Edward III. appears to have taken much pride in his menagerie, and in
1364 a proclamation was issued by the King for the safe keeping of a
beast called an 'oure,' which was in danger from certain persons who
threatened to do grievous harm to the keepers, 'and atrociously to kill
the said beast.' Mr. Riley, who prints the proclamation in his
_Memorials_, supposes the animal to be either the urus, aurochs or
bison, from the east of Europe, or the Ihrwy from Morocco.
The proclamation addressed to the Mayor and Sheriff runs thus: 'We,
wishing to preserve the said keepers and the beast from injury and
grievance, do command you that in the city aforesaid and the suburbs
thereof, where you shall deem most expedient, you do cause public
proclamation to be made, and it on our behalf strictly to be forbidden,
that any person, native or stranger, of whatsoever condition he may be,
on pain of forfeiting unto us as much as he may forfeit, shall have the
audacity to do any damage, violence, misprision or grievance unto the
said keepers or to the beast, which we have so taken under our
protection and especial defence, or to any of them, or shall presume to
intermeddle for getting a sight of the said beast, against the will of
them, the keepers thereof. And if you shall know anyone to attempt the
contrary hereof, then you are so to punish them that the same punishment
may deter all others from attempting the like; and to answer unto us as
to such forfeiture, in manner as is befitting.'[101]
In later times the collection of wild beasts must have been
considerable, and Stow relates in his _Chronicle_ how trials of strength
between the animals were exhibited before the royal family. On the 23rd
of June 1609 'the King, Queene, and Prince, the Lady Elizabeth and the
Duke of Yorke, with divers great lords and manie others, came to the
Tower to see a triall of the lyon's single valour, against a great
fierce beare, which had kild a child, that was negligently left in the
beare-house. This fierce beare was brought into the open yard, behind
the lyon's den, which was the place for fight.' Two mastiffs let into
the yard passed the bear and attacked the lion. Then a stallion and six
dogs were introduced. The dogs worried the horse till three stout
bear-wards drove them off, the bear and lion looking on. The latter was
allowed to escape to his den, and other lions were brought out, but none
would attack the bear. On the 5th of July this same bear was baited to
death.
On the 10th April 1610 Prince Henry and attendant nobles went privately
to the Tower to see a fight between the great lion and four dogs. The
dogs got the better of the lion, and another lion and lioness were
brought to see if they would help the first lion, but they would not,
and all three were glad to escape to their dens.[102] The few animals
that remained in the menagerie in the nineteenth century were removed to
the Zoological Gardens in Regent's Park in 1834.
_The Tower as a Prison._--It is as a State prison that the Tower is most
associated in our memories. Here have been confined some of the noblest
of English men and women, but besides these there were others who have
richly deserved their fate. Some of the prisoners lodged here only for a
time, but the majority found it to be merely the threshold of death.
The first prisoner was Ralph Flambard, Bishop of Durham, the hated
Minister of William Rufus. On that King's death, Henry I., with the
advice of his Council, shut the bishop up in one of the topmost chambers
of the White Tower. Flambard was not very carefully guarded, and he used
the liberal allowance put aside for him in providing drink for his
keepers. He received a rope in a flagon from friends outside, and while
his gaolers were drunk, he managed to escape by its means on the night
of 4th February 1101. Although the rope proved too short, and he was
injured by his fall, he reached Normandy safely.
Five years after this, the Count of Mortain, who was taken prisoner by
Henry I., was imprisoned in the Tower, as we learn from the testimony of
Eadmer.
The Jews in large numbers were thrown into the Tower in 1282. The Welsh
next furnished victims, and then the Scots. The Battle of Dunbar in 1296
caused many prisoners, including the King, John Balliol, and a host of
his nobility to fall into the hands of Edward I. In 1303 the King's
treasury was robbed while Edward I. was in Scotland, and suspicion fell
upon the Abbot and Monks of Westminster. The sacristan, sub-prior and
others were imprisoned in the Tower. The whole affair is very difficult
to understand, but it was fully investigated by order of the King, and
there can be no doubt that some members of the monastery were deeply
implicated. It created a great scandal, and was one of the most
remarkable crimes ever committed. Mr. L. O. Pike gives a full account of
the incidents in his _History of Crime in England_, 1873 (vol. i.), and
says: 'It is quite evident that an enterprise which required more than
four months for its accomplishment could not have been successful had
there been no collusion within the abbey gates. The findings of the
various juries point to a deep-laid conspiracy between some persons in
the abbey and others in the neighbouring palace.'
Wallace in 1305 found a prison here before he was drawn through
Cheapside and executed in Smithfield.
The Order of the Knights Templar was abolished in 1313, and all the
members south of the Trent were imprisoned in the Tower, where the
master died.
The earliest drawing of the Tower which has come down to us contains a
curious picture of the building, and a representation of the incidents
of the captivity of Charles,
[Illustration: DUKE OF ORLEANS IN THE TOWER.
(_From a copy of MS. in the British Museum._)]
Duke of Orleans, who was taken prisoner at the Battle of Agincourt. This
interesting picture is in one of the MSS. (Roy MS. 16 F. 2) in the
British Museum. As was the custom of the early artists, a succession of
incidents in the life of the prisoner are depicted in the same drawing.
The duke is seen at a turret window, then writing at a desk in a large
chamber. At the foot of the White Tower he is embracing the messenger
who brings him his ransom. He is then seen mounting his horse, and he
and a friendly messenger ride away from the Tower. Lastly, we see him in
a barge with lusty rowers pulling down the stream for the boat which is
to carry him home to France.
There were two places of execution, that on Tower Hill (under the
authority of the governors of the city), and the other on Tower Green
within the Tower walls. Edward IV. set up a scaffold and gallows upon
Tower Hill, but the City of London insisted upon their ancient right of
dealing with offenders within their own precincts, so the King's
scaffold and gallows were taken down with many apologies, and the
sheriffs maintained their ancient privileges of headings and hangings
beyond the Tower walls. The city boundary existed within the Tower, and
in James I.'s reign a question arose as to whether or no Sir Thomas
Overbury's murder was committed within the city. As his apartment was
situated on the west of the boundary, the criminals came under the
jurisdiction of the city.
The place of execution on Tower Green is a spot of hallowed memories. It
was marked off and railed in by command of Queen Victoria. Lord Hastings
was probably beheaded here in 1483, and among the distinguished names of
those who suffered on this spot are Anne Boleyn in 1536; Margaret Pole,
Countess of Salisbury, daughter of the Duke of Clarence and mother of
Cardinal Pole in 1541; Katherine Howard, and Jane, Viscountess
Rochford, sister-in-law of Anne Boleyn, in 1542; Lady Jane Grey in 1554;
and Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, in 1601.
The Chapel of St. Peter's ad Vincula was probably first built by Henry
II., although the earliest mention of it occurs in the year 1210. It was
burnt in 1512, and rebuilt as we see it now about 1532. The great
interest of this chapel centres round the names of the great who having
suffered in life now rest in this temple of the dead. A tablet on the
wall contains a list of the most distinguished of these names.
The Beauchamp Tower is one of the most interesting of the buildings, as
it is full of inscriptions on the walls cut by the prisoners.
Close by is the Yeoman Gaoler's lodging, where probably Lady Jane Grey
stood to see her husband taken from Beauchamp Tower to execution on
Tower Hill.
Sir Walter Raleigh was three times a prisoner in the Tower, and he was
very differently treated each time. In Elizabeth's reign he could
converse with those outside from the walk near the Bloody Tower, which
is named after him. In James's reign he had for a fellow-prisoner Henry,
ninth Earl of Northumberland, known as 'the Wizard Earl.' The great
philosopher Thomas Harriott was allowed to visit the two prisoners, and
he travelled on the Thames between the Tower and Sion House, bringing
from the latter place books out of the earl's library for the solace of
Northumberland and Raleigh.
With Traitor's Gate we end this sad eventful history. Samuel Rogers
wrote in his poem of 'Human Life':--
'On through that gate misnamed, through which before
Went Sidney, Russell, Raleigh, Cranmer, More.'
These are great names, but there are others. The
[Illustration]
Duke of Buckingham in 1521 was taken to Westminster in a barge furnished
with a carpet and cushions. After his trial and condemnation for the
crime of being too nearly related to the throne he refused the seat of
honour on his return to prison, crying: 'When I came to Westminster I
was Lord High Constable and Duke of Buckingham, but now--poor Edward
Bohun!'
The Princess Elizabeth, in her sister Mary's reign, refused at first to
land at Traitor's Gate, but agreed at last, using these words: 'Here
landeth as true a subject, being a prisoner, as ever landed at these
stairs, and before Thee, O God! I speak it, having none other friend but
Thee.'
What misery and what cruelty a full record of the sufferings of the
prisoners in the Tower would unfold to our view. Some of the prisoners
reaped the natural consequences of their actions, for they were on the
losing side. But others were most unnaturally treated, and among these
were noble women whose only fault was that they were related to persons
obnoxious to those in power.
In later times imprisonment became somewhat of a farce. Great nobles,
unpopular statesmen and others who were in disgrace were sent to the
Tower. It still sounded a serious punishment, but the practice gradually
fell into disfavour, because people would no longer allow of the
beheading of unpopular statesmen.
CHAPTER VI
_Manners_
Our notices of the sports of mediæval London must commence with a
reference to the curious essay of the monk Fitz-Stephen, who was the
first to describe the chief features of London history.
'Moreover, to begin with the sports of the boys (for we have all been
boys) annually on the day which is called Shrovetide, the boys of the
respective schools bring each a fighting-cock to their master, and the
whole of that forenoon is spent by the boys in seeing their cocks fight
in the schoolroom. After dinner all the young men of the city go out
into the fields to play at the well-known game of football.[103] The
scholars belonging to the several schools have each their ball, and the
city tradesmen, according to their respective crafts, have theirs. The
more aged men, the fathers of the players, and the wealthy citizens come
on horseback to see the contests of the young men, with whom, after
their manner, they participate, their natural heat seeming to be aroused
by the sight of so much agility, and by their participation in the
amusements of unrestrained youth. Every Sunday in Lent, after dinner, a
company of young men enter the fields mounted on warlike horses--
'"On coursers always foremost in the race,"
of which
'"Each steed's well-trained to gallop in a ring."
The lay sons of the citizens rush out of the gates in crowds equipped
with lances and shields, the younger sort with pikes from which the iron
head has been taken off, and there they get up sham fights and exercise
themselves in military combat. When the King happens to be near the city
most of the courtiers attend, and the young men who form the households
of the earls and barons, and have not yet attained the honour of
knighthood, resort thither for the purpose of trying their skill.'
Then Fitz-Stephen tells of the sports on the river, but these remarks
have already been referred to in the fourth chapter. The description of
the sports of summer and winter are then continued. We find a curious
account of the Londoner's delight both in sliding and skating, and his
contempt for the dangers of the sports.
'During the holydays in summer the young men exercise themselves in the
sports of leaping, archery, wrestling, stone-throwing, slinging javelins
beyond a mark, and also fighting with bucklers. Cytherea leads the
dances of the maidens, who merrily trip along the ground beneath the
uprisen moon. Almost on every holyday in winter, before dinner, foaming
boars and huge-tusked hogs, intended for bacon, fight for their lives,
or fat bulls or immense boars are baited with dogs. When that great
marsh which washes the walls of the city on the north side is frozen
over, the young men go out in crowds to divert themselves upon the ice.
Some having increased their velocity by a run, placing their feet apart
and turning their bodies sideways, slide a great way; others make a seat
of large pieces of ice like mill-stones, and a great number of them
running before, and holding each other by the hand, draw one of their
companions who is seated on the ice; if at any time they slip in moving
so swiftly, all fall down headlong together. Others are more expert in
their sports upon the ice; for fitting to and binding under their feet
the shin-bones of some animal, and taking in their hands poles shod with
iron, which at times they strike against the ice, they are carried along
with as great rapidity as a bird flying, or a bolt discharged from a
cross-bow. Sometimes two of the skaters having placed themselves a great
distance apart, by mutual agreement come together from opposite sides;
they meet, raise their poles, and strike each other; either one or both
of them fall, not without some bodily hurt; even after their fall they
are carried along to a great distance from each other by the velocity of
the motion, and whatever part of their heads comes in contact with the
ice is laid bare to the very skull. Very frequently the leg or arm of
the falling one, if he chance to light upon either of them, is broken.
But youth is an age eager for glory and desirous of victory, and so
young men engage in counterfeit battles that they may conduct themselves
more valiantly in real ones. Most of the citizens amuse themselves in
sporting with martins, hawks and other birds of a like kind, and also
with dogs that hunt in the wood.'
It was one thing to go out into the fields to play these games, but when
there was a large population within the walls it must have been very
inconvenient to the inhabitants to find the streets occupied by
footballers. The practice seems to have been allowed until it became a
public nuisance. In the year 1406 proclamation was issued forbidding
hocking in streets of London: 'Let proclamation be made that no person
of this city, or within the suburbs thereof, of whatsoever estate or
condition such person may be, whether man or woman, shall, in any
street or lane thereof, take hold of or constrain any person, of
whatsoever estate or condition he may be, within house or without, for
hokkyng on the Monday or Tuesday next, called Hokkedayes, on pain of
imprisonment, and of making fine at the discretion of the Mayor and
Aldermen.'[104]
Hock Monday and Tuesday were the Monday and Tuesday following the second
Sunday after Easter day, and Spelman describes the sport of hocking as
consisting 'in the men and women binding each other, and especially the
women the men.' Hone writes (_Every Day Book_): 'Tuesday was the
principal day, Hock Monday was for the men and Hock Tuesday for the
women. On both days the men and women alternately, with great merriment,
intercepted the public roads with ropes and pulled passengers to them,
from whom they exacted money to be laid out for pious uses. Monday
probably having been originally kept as only the vigil or introduction
to the festival of Hock-day.'
The proclamation of 1406 does not seem to have been effectual, and
therefore three years afterwards another proclamation was issued against
'Hokkyng, Foteballe and Cokthresshyng.' The prohibition of hocking is
expressed in the same terms as in the proclamation of 1406, and to this
is added the following: 'And that no person shall levy money, or cause
it to be levied, for the games called "foteballe" and "cokthreshyng"
because of marriages that have recently taken place in the said city, or
the suburbs thereof, on pain of imprisonment, and of making fine at the
discretion of the Mayor and aldermen.'[105]
Cock-throwing and football were specially in season at Shrovetide, and
at that time it was difficult for the authorities to hold the Londoners
in hand, and prevent them from making the streets their playground.
The cases of punishment already referred to are connected with
prohibitions, but in 1389 a curious case of a fine inflicted for
stopping a procession on the festival of Corpus Christi is recorded. A
citizen was brought before the Mayor, and the sheriffs, recorder, and
aldermen, to answer for having prevented a procession from passing
through his house, which the parishioners believed to be their right.
It is one thing for the inhabitants of a small town like Helstone, in
Cornwall, to pass through houses without hindrance on Furry day, and
quite another for the same right to be claimed in London, even in the
Middle Ages. The case is so remarkable that it seems well to quote the
whole statement:--
'Because that by the reputable men of the parish of St. Nicholas Acon,
Nicholas Twyford, Knight, Mayor of the City of London, was given to
understand that whereas they, time out of mind, had been wont and
accustomed to have free ingress and egress with their procession, on the
befitting and usual days, through the middle of a certain house
belonging to John Basse, citizen and draper of London, situate in the
parish of St. Mary Abbechirche, in London; the aforesaid John, together
with John Creek, draper, and others of their covin, on Thursday, the
Feast of Corpus Christi last past, armed with divers arms, guarded the
house before mentioned by main force, and would not allow the
parishioners of the Church of St. Nicholas aforesaid to enter the house
with their procession, as they had been wont to do, but grievously
threatened them as to life and limb; in breach of the peace of our Lord
the King, and to the manifest disturbance of the tranquillity of the
city aforesaid:--for the said reason the same John and John were
arrested.'
'Afterwards, on the 26th day of June, in the thirteenth year, etc., they
were brought before the said Mayor and the sheriffs, recorder, and
aldermen, in the chamber of the Guildhall, and were there questioned as
to the matter aforesaid, and were asked how they would acquit themselves
thereof; whereupon they acknowledged that they were guilty of all the
things above imputed to them, and put themselves upon the favour of the
court as to the same; and counsel having been held hereon, according to
the usage of the city in like cases, it was adjudged that the said John
Basse, as being the principal and the prime mover in the contempt
aforesaid, should have imprisonment for one year then next ensuing, to
commence from the Friday next after the Feast of St. Botolph [17th
June], namely, Friday the 18th day of June then last past; and that on
his leaving prison he should pay to the Chamberlain of the Guildhall 200
marks, to the use of the commonalty, for the contempt aforesaid; unless
he should meet with increased favour in the meantime. And that the
aforesaid John Creek, for the contempt so by him committed, should have
imprisonment for half a year after the said Friday next ensuing; and
that on his leaving prison he should pay to the aforesaid Chamberlain
100 marks to the use of the commonalty, unless he should meet with
increased favour in the meantime'[106]
These were truly exemplary damages, and we find that the imprisonment
was remitted on the same day, and the fines were respectively reduced to
£15 and 100s.[107]
Besides sports in the streets, there was a constant succession of
pageants, processions and tournaments in the Middle Ages, which made the
streets gay, and brought out most of the inhabitants to see the sights.
The royal processions arranged in connection with coronations were of
great antiquity, but one of the earliest to be described is that of
Henry III., in 1236, which was chronicled by Matthew Paris. After the
marriage at Canterbury of the King with Eleanor of Provence, the royal
personages came to London, and were met by the Mayor, aldermen, and
principal citizens, to the number of 360, sumptuously apparelled in
silken robes embroidered, riding upon stately horses.
A very interesting point is mentioned by Matthew Paris, viz., that each
man carried a gold or silver cup in his hand, in token of the privilege
claimed by the city, of the Mayor being Chief Butler of the kingdom at
the coronation. Something further respecting this claim will be found in
the eighth chapter of this book. On this occasion the streets of the
city were adorned with rich silks, pageants, and a variety of pompous
shows; and the citizens attending the King and Queen to Westminster had
the honour of officiating at the Queen's coronation. At night the city
was illuminated with an infinite number of lamps, cressets, etc.
After the death of Henry III. (1272) the country had to wait for their
new King, who was then in the Holy Land. Edward I. came to London on the
2nd of August 1274, where he was received with the wildest expressions
of joy. The streets were hung with rich cloths of silk, arras and
tapestry; the aldermen and principal men of the city threw out of their
windows handfuls of gold and silver, to signify their gladness at the
King's return; and the conduits ran with wine, both white and red. The
coronation took place on the 19th of August.
The happy married life of Edward I. and Eleanor of Castile came to an
end in 1290, and in connection with her death was arranged the most
striking and most beautiful expression of a husband's and a nation's
love in our history.
The Queen died in Harby, Lincolnshire, and the funeral procession came
slowly to London and Westminster. Beautiful crosses were afterwards
placed on the various spots where each night the body stopped. Two of
these stopping-places were in London--at Cheapside, beneath the shadow
of old St. Paul's, and at Charing Cross, on the way to Westminster,
where the Queen's beautiful tomb remains as one of the chief glories of
our wonderful Abbey Church.
[Illustration: CHEAPSIDE CROSS.]
Cheapside Cross was 're-edified' in 1441, and afterwards newly gilt and
newly burnished. Defaced and repaired at different times, little was
left of the original when the cross was cleared away in 1647, at the
same time as Charing Cross.
Only three of the original Eleanor crosses remain: two in
Northamptonshire--one at Geddington, and the other at Northampton, and
the third at Waltham Cross. Every Englishman should be proud of these
glorious records of a past age, which not only tell of the devoted love
of two sovereigns, of whom we all must be proud, but also because they
prove the high state of English art at this time. Until late years, when
certain documents were discovered containing the names of the artists,
the historians of art attempted to believe that the designs were too
good for Englishmen, and must have been made by foreigners.
In order to establish peace between England and France, King Edward
married Margaret of France, sister of the French King, at Canterbury in
1299, and in the following year she first came to London.
The citizens, to the number of 600, rode in one livery of red and white,
with the cognisance of their mistress embroidered upon their sleeves,
and received her four miles without the city, and so conveyed her to
Westminster.[108]
Edward I. was buried at Westminster on October 27, 1307, and his son on
coming to the throne recalled Piers Gaveston from banishment; he made
him Regent of the kingdom when he crossed to France to be married to
Isabella, the daughter of Philip IV. In February 1307-1308 Edward II.
returned to England with his bride, and was joyfully received by the
citizens. On the 24th they were crowned at Westminster. The King, we are
told by Stow, offered on the altar first a pound of gold made like a
King holding a ring in his hand, and then a mark of gold (8 ounces) made
like a pilgrim putting forth his hand to receive the ring. The crush was
very great at this coronation, and in it Sir John Blackwell was killed.
In November 1312, Queen Isabel announced to the Mayor her safe delivery
of a son in the following letter: 'Isabel, by the grace of God, Queen of
England, Lady of Ireland, and Duchess of Aquitaine, to our well-beloved,
the Mayor and aldermen and the commonalty of London, greeting. Forasmuch
as we believe that you would willingly hear good tidings of us, we do
make known unto you that our Lord of His grace has delivered us of a
son' [afterwards Edward III.]. The Mayor and aldermen and commonalty, on
hearing the news, 'assembled in the Guildhall at time of vespers and
carolled, and showed great joy thereat; and so passed through the city
with great glare of torches, and with trumpets and other minstrelsies.
And on the Tuesday next, early in the morning, cry was made throughout
all the city to the effect that there was to be no work, labour, or
business in shop on that day; but that everyone was to apparel himself
in the most becoming manner that he could, and come to the Guildhall at
the hour of prime, ready to go with the Mayor, together with the [other]
good folks, to St. Paul's, there to make praise and offering to the
honour of God, who had shown them such favour on earth, and to show
respect for this child that had been born.'
At the beginning of the next week all went richly costumed to
Westminster, riding on horseback, and there made offering. After dinner
in the Guildhall, 'they went in carols throughout the city all the rest
of the day and great part of the night.' The conduit of Chepe ran with
nothing but wine, and a pavilion extended in the middle of the street
near Brokencross (at the north door of St. Paul's), in which was set a
tun of wine, for all passers-by to drink of. In the following February
the Fishmongers Company caused a boat to be fitted out in the guise of a
great ship, to be drawn to Westminster and presented to the Queen. The
Fishmongers, very richly costumed, escorted the Queen through the city
on the same day, on her way to Canterbury on pilgrimage.[109]
In 1330 there was an accident during the progress of a great tournament
in Cheapside, which was part of an entertainment offered by the citizens
to the young King (Edward III.) and Queen at the birth of their first
son. The Queen Philippa displayed the same good qualities which on a
later occasion she showed after the surrender of Calais, and thereby
secured a lasting fame as a good woman. Stow relates the event as
follows: 'There was a very solemn justing of all the stout earls, barons
and nobles at London in Cheap, betwixt the great Cross and the great
Conduit nigh Soper Lane, which lasted three days, where the Queen
Philippa, with many ladies, fell from a stage, notwithstanding they were
not hurt at all, wherefore the Queen took great care to save the
carpenters from punishment, and through her prayer (which she made on
her knees) she pacified the King and Council, whereby she purchased
great love of the people.'
This accident was the cause of Edward III. ordering the construction in
stone of a shed (seldam) on the north side of Bow Church, so that the
royal party might in future be able to view the joustings and other
shows with safety. Edward III. was for some years the most popular of
our monarchs, for he was constantly conquering his enemies, and his
people were proud of him. In 1343 a great triumph was organised in his
honour, which is described in Sir William Segar's _Honour Militarie and
Civil_. The King commanded that the tournament should be proclaimed in
France, Henault, Flanders, Brabant and other places, 'giving passport
and secure abode to all noble strangers that would resort into England.'
The triumph took place in London, and continued for fifteen days.
Dr. Jessopp gives us a vivid picture of what occurred four years
afterwards 'when King Edward III. entered London in triumph on the 14th
of October 1347, he was the foremost man in Europe, and England had
reached a height of power and glory such as she had never attained
before. At the Battle of Creci, France had received a crushing blow, and
by the loss of Calais, after an eleven months' siege, she had been
reduced well-nigh to the lowest point of humiliation. David II., King of
Scotland, was now lying a prisoner in the Tower of London. Louis of
Bavaria had just been killed by a fall from his horse, the imperial
throne was vacant, and the electors in eager haste proclaimed that they
had chosen the King of England to succeed. To their discomfiture the
King of England declined the proffered crown. He "had other views."
Intoxicated by the splendour of their sovereign and his martial renown,
and the success which seemed to attend him wherever he showed himself,
the English people had gone mad with exultation.'[110]
Two years later (in 1349) the fearful pestilence, known of late years as
the Black Death, was destroying half the population of the country.
One of the most interesting of London processions was that which took
place when the chivalrous Black Prince brought his prisoners to England
in 1357. Stow's account of this historic scene is so vivid that it needs
must be transferred to these pages without paraphrase: 'Edward, Prince
of Wales, returning into England with John, the French King, Phillip,
his sonne, and many other prysoners, arrived at Plimmouth on the fifth
of May, and the foure-and-twentieth of May entered London with them,
where he was received with great honour of the cittizens, and so
conveyed to the King's pallace at Westminster, where the King, sitting
in his estate in Westminster Hall, received them, and after conveyed the
French King to a lodging, where he lay a season; and after the sayd
French King was lodged in the Savoy (which was then a pleasant place,
belonging to the Duke of Lancaster). In the winter following were great
and royal justs holden in Smithfield at London, where many knightly
sights of armes were done to the great honour of the King and realme, at
the which were present the Kings of Englande, France and Scotland, with
many noble estates of all those kingdomes, whereof the more part of the
strangers were prisoners.'
The King of France remained a prisoner for three years, but in 1360 King
Edward marched upon Paris, and peace was made to the joy of the French,
although the English gained a third of that kingdom by the Peace of
Bretigny. When the peace was confirmed Edward III. came to England, 'and
so straight to the Tower to see the French King, where he appointed his
ransome to bee three millions of florences, and so delivered him of all
imprisonment, and brought him with great honour to the sea, who then
sayled over into France.'[111]
On the 8th of June 1376, that 'flower of chivalry,' the Black Prince,
died in the Archbishop's Palace at Canterbury. His young son Richard was
then created by the King Earl of Chester, Duke of Cornwall, and Prince
of Wales. At Christmas the Londoners formed a torchlight procession from
the city to Kennington in honour of the Prince:--
'On the Sunday before Candlemas, in the night, one hundred and thirty
citizens, disguised and well horsed, in a mummery with sounds of
trumpets, large trumpets, horns, shealms, and other minstrels, and
innumerable torchlights of wax, rode from Newgate through Cheap over the
Bridge, through Southwark, and so to Kennington, besides Lambeth, where
the young Prince remained with his mother.... In the first rank did ride
forty-eight, in the likeness and habit of esquires, two and two
together, cloathed in red coats, and gowns of say or sandale, with
comely vizors on their faces. After them came riding forty-eight knights
in the same livery of colour and stuff. Then followed one richly arrayed
like an Emperor, and after him at some distance one stately attired like
a Pope, whom followed twenty-four Cardinals, and after them eight or ten
with black vizors not amiable, as if they had been legates from some
foreign princes.
'These maskers, after they had entered the manor of Kennington, alighted
from their horses, and entered the hall on foot, which done, the Prince,
his mother, and the Lords came out of the Chamber into the Hall, whom
the said mummers did salute, shewing by a pair of dice on the table
their desire to play with the Prince, which they so handled that the
Prince did always win when they cast them. Then the mummers set to the
Prince three jewels one after another, which were a bowl of gold, a cup
of gold, and a ring of gold, which the Prince won at three casts.
'Then they set to the Prince's mother, the duke [John of Gaunt], the
earls, and other lords, to every one a ring of gold, which they did also
win. After which they were feasted, and the music sounded; the Prince
and the lords danced on the one part with the mummers, who did also
dance, which jollity being needed they were again made to drink, and
then departed in order as they came.'[112]
On the 21st of June following (1377) Edward III., deserted by his
mistress, Alice Perress, and his courtiers, and attended by a solitary
priest, died at Shene (now Richmond). Before the breath was out of his
body the citizens waited upon the young Prince Richard, and offered
their allegiance, requesting him to come to London. In Walsingham's
Chronicle there is an account of a pageant in honour of the young King
in the following month. On the Feast of St. Swithin the Mayor and
citizens assembled near the Tower, when King Richard, clad in white
garments, came forth with a great multitude in his suite, also dressed
in white. The streets were hung with cloth of gold and silver and silken
stuff, and the conduits ran wine for three hours. At the upper end of
Cheapside was erected a castle with four towers. In the towers were
placed four beautiful virgins, of stature and age like to the King,
apparelled in white; these damsels on the King's approach blew in his
face leaves of gold and threw on him and his horse counterfeit golden
florins. When he was come before the castle they took cups of gold, and
filling them with wine at the spouts of the castle, presented the same
to the King and his nobles. On the top of the castle, betwixt the
towers, stood a golden angel, holding a crown in his hands, and so
contrived that when the King came he bowed down and offered him the
crown.
There was infinite variety in these pageants, and they were very
frequent during the Middle Ages, and long after, but the too full
description of them is likely to become monotonous. It will therefore be
sufficient to refer to some of the other rejoicings in a more succinct
manner.
On Friday after the Epiphany, 1382, the Mayor, aldermen and Commons rode
to meet the new Queen, Anne of Bohemia, and conducted her through the
city. All the crafts were charged to wear nothing but red and black.
In 1392 Richard II. wanted to borrow £1000 from the Londoners. However,
they not only refused, but killed a certain Lombard who would have lent
the sum. The King was very angry and deposed the Mayor, imprisoning him
in Windsor Castle, and the sheriffs and various prominent citizens in
other prisons. Finding that they were in a bad case, the citizens
repented and offered the King £10,000. Richard, learning that the
Londoners were 'in heaviness and dismayed,' said to his men, as Stow
tells us: 'I will go to London and comfort the citizens, and will not
that they any longer despaire of my favour.' On leaving Shene he was met
on Wandsworth Common by four hundred of the citizens on horseback, clad
in one livery, who in the most humble manner, craving pardon for their
past offences, besought him by their recorder to take his way to his
palace at Westminster through the city of London. The request having
been granted, the King pursued his journey to Southwark, where at St.
George's Church he was met by a procession of the Bishop of London, and
all the religions of every degree, and above five hundred boys in
surplices. At London Bridge a white steed and milk-white palfrey, both
saddled, bridled and caparisoned in cloth of gold, were presented to the
King and Queen. The citizens received them standing in their liveries on
each side of the street, crying: 'King Richard, King Richard.' Handsome
presents were made to the King and Queen, who proceeded to St. Paul's;
after the offerings had been made there the Mayor accompanied the King
to Westminster. On the following day the citizens again went to the
palace with presents, and received a new confirmation of their
liberties. They had, however, to present a golden tablet of the story of
Edward the Confessor for the shrine of that royal saint, and were
further mulcted in a heavy tax.
Seven years after this the principal actors were changed, and Henry,
Duke of Lancaster, approached London with Richard as a captive. He was
received in great pomp by the Mayor, aldermen and sheriffs, and all the
several companies in their formalities, with the people incessantly
crying: 'Long live the good Duke of Lancaster, our deliverer!'
On the 13th of October, in the same year (1399), Henry went in great
pomp from the Tower to Westminster, and there was crowned.
In 1413 Henry V. passed in procession from the Tower through London to
Westminster, where he was crowned. But though there was a brave show on
this occasion it was as nothing to what was provided to do honour to the
King's return from the glorious field of Agincourt in 1415. The Mayor
and aldermen, apparelled in Orient-grained scarlet, and four hundred
Commoners in murrey, well mounted, with rich collars and chains, met the
King at Blackheath; and the clergy of London, in solemn procession, with
rich crosses, sumptuous copes and many censers, received him at St.
Thomas of Waterings, a place on the Old Kent Road, which Chaucer's
pilgrims passed when they had gone about two miles from the Tabard. At
the entrance of London Bridge, on the top of the tower, stood a gigantic
figure, bearing in his right hand an axe, and in his left the keys of
the city hanging to a staff, as if he had been the porter. By his side
stood a woman of scarcely less stature, intended for his wife. Around
them were a band of trumpets and other wind instruments. The towers were
adorned with banners of the royal arms, and in the front of them was
inscribed--CIVITAS REGIS JUSTICIE.