From the time when I was astonished by the information, that “every day,
when the giants hear the clock strike twelve they come down to dinner,”
I have had something of curiosity towards them. How came they there, and
what are they for? In vain were my examinations of Stow, Howell, Strype,
Noorthouck, Maitland, Seymour, Pennant, and numberless other authors of
books and tracts regarding London. They scarcely deign to mention them,
and no one relates a syllable from whence we can possibly affirm that
the giants of their day were the giants that now exist.
To this remark there is a solitary exception. Hatton, whose “New View of
London” bears the date of 1708, says in that work, “This stately hall
being much damnify’d by the unhappy conflagration of the city in 1666,
was rebuilt anno 1669, and extremely well beautified and repaired both
in and outside, which cost about two thousand five hundred pounds, and
two _new_ figures of gigantick magnitude will be _as before_.”[443]
Presuming on the ephemeral information of his readers at the time he
published, Hatton obscured his information by a brevity, which leaves us
to suppose that the giants were destroyed when Guildhall was “much
damnify’d” by the fire of London in 1666; and that from that period they
had not been replaced. It is certain, however, that there were giants in
the year 1699, when Ned Ward published his London Spy: for, describing a
visit to Guildhall, he says, “We turned down King-street, and came to
the place intended, which we entered with as great astonishment to see
the giants, as the Morocco ambassador did London when he saw the snow
fall. I asked my friend the meaning and design of setting up those two
lubberly preposterous figures; for I suppose they had some peculiar end
in it. Truly, says my friend, I am wholly ignorant of what they
intended by them, unless they were set up to show the city what huge
loobies their forefathers were, or else to fright stubborn apprentices
into obedience; for the dread of appearing before two such monstrous
loggerheads, will sooner reform their manners, or mould them into a
compliance with their masters’ will, than carrying them before my lord
mayor or the chamberlain of London; for some of them are as much
frighted at the names of _Gog_ and _Magog_, as little children are at
the terrible sound of Raw-head and Bloody-bones.” There is no doubt that
at that time the city giants were far more popular than now; for, in the
same work, two passengers through Bartholomew fair, who had slyly
alighted from a coach without discharging it, are addressed by the
coachman with “Pay me my fare, or by _Gog_ and _Magog_ you shall feel
the smart of my whipcord;” an oath which in our time is obsolete, though
in all probability it was common then, or it would not have been used by
Ward in preference to his usual indecency.
Again; as to giants being in Guildhall before Hatton wrote, and whether
they were the present statues. On the 24th of April, 1685, there were
“wonderful and stupendous fireworks in honour of their majesties’
coronation, (James II. and his queen,) and for the high entertainment of
their majesties, the nobility, and _City of London_, made on the
Thames.”[444] Among the devices of this exhibition, erected on a raft in
the middle of the river, were two pyramids; between them was a figure of
the sun in polished brass, below it a great cross, and beneath that a
crown, all stored with fireworks; and a little before the pyramids “were
placed the statues of the two giants of Guildhall, in lively colours and
proportions facing Whitehall, the backs of which were all filled with
fiery materials; and, from the first deluge of fire till the end of the
sport, which lasted near an hour, _the two giants_, the cross, and the
sun, grew all in a light flame in the figures described, and burned
without abatement of matter.” From this mention of “statues _of_ the two
giants _of_ Guildhall,” it is to be inferred, that giants were _in_
Guildhall fourteen years before Ward’s book was published, and that,
probably, the firework-maker took them for his models, because their
forms being familiar to the “_City of London_,” their appearance would
be an attraction as well as a compliment to his civic audience.
Just before 1708, the date of Hatton’s book, Guildhall had been
repaired; and Hatton says, “In the middle of this front are depenciled
in gold these words, _Reparata et Ornata Thoma Rawlinson, Milit.
Majore_, An. Dom. M. DCC. VI.” From whence, and his observation, in the
extract first quoted, that “two _new_ figures of gigantick magnitude
_will be as before_,” he intends his reader to understand that, as
before _that_ reparation there _had been_ two giants, so, with the new
adornment of the hall there would be two _new_ giants. The proof of
Hatton’s meaning is to be found in “The Gigantick History of the two
famous Giants in Guildhall, London, third edition, corrected. London,
printed for Tho. Boreman, bookseller, near the Giants in Guildhall, and
at the Boot and Crown, on Ludgate-hill, 1741.”--2 vols. 64mo. This very
rare book states, that “before the present giants inhabited Guildhall,
there were two giants, made only of wicker-work and pasteboard, put
together with great art and ingenuity: and those two terrible original
giants had the honour yearly to grace my lord mayor’s show, being
carried in great triumph in the time of the pageants; and when that
eminent annual service was over, remounted their old stations in
Guildhall--till, by reason of their very great age, old Time, with the
help of a number of city rats and mice, had eaten up all their entrails.
The dissolution of the two old, weak, and feeble giants, gave birth to
the two present substantial and majestic giants; who, by order, and at
the city charge, were formed and fashioned. Captain Richard
Saunders,[445] an eminent carver in King-street, Cheapside, was their
father; who, after he had completely finished, clothed, and armed these
his two sons, they were immediately advanced to those lofty stations in
Guildhall, which they have peaceably enjoyed ever since the year 1708.”
The title-page of the “Gigantick History” shows that the work was
published within the Guildhall itself, when shops were permitted there;
so that Boreman, the publisher, had the best means that time and place
could afford of obtaining true information, and for obvious reasons he
was unlikely to state what was not correct. It is further related in
this work, that “the first honour which the two ancient wicker-work
giants were promoted to in the city, was at the restoration of king
Charles II., when with great pomp and majesty they graced a triumphal
arch, which was erected on that happy occasion at the end of
King-street, in Cheapside.” This was before the fire of London, by which
the hall was “much damnify’d,” but not burned down; for the
conflagration was principally confined to the wooden roof; and,
according to this account, the wicker-giants escaped, till their
infirmities, and the labours of the “city rats,” rendered it necessary
to supersede them.
That wicker was used in constructing figures for the London pageants is
certain. Haywood, in his description of the pageants in the show of the
lord mayor Raynton, in 1632, says, “The moddellor and composer of these
seuerall pieces, Maister Gerard Christmas, found these pageants and
showes of _wicker_ and paper, and reduc’t them to sollidity and
substance.”
To prove, however, the statement in the “Gigantick History,” that the
present giants were put up upon the reparation of the hall in 1706, an
examination of the city archives became necessary; and as the history
fortunately mentions captain Richard Saunders as the carver, the name
became a clue to successful inquiry. Accordingly, on examination of the
city accounts at the chamberlain’s office, under the head of
“Extraordinary Works,” for 1707, I discovered among the sums “paid for
repairing of the Guildhall and chappell,” an entry in the following
words:--
To _Richard Saunders_, carver, seaventy
pounds, by order of the co’mittee
for repairing Guildhall, dated y^{e}
x^{th}. of April, 1707, for work by
him done 70_l._
This entry of the payment confirms the relation of the gigantic
historian; but Saunders’s bill, which doubtless contained the charges
for the two giants, and all the city vouchers before 1786, deposited in
the chamberlain’s office, were destroyed by a fire there in that year.
Giants were part of the pageantry used in different cities of the
kingdom. By an ordinance of the mayor, aldermen, and common-council of
Chester,[446] for the setting of the watch on the eve of the festival of
St. John the Baptist, in 1564, it was directed that there should be
annually, according to ancient custom, a pageant, consisting of four
giants, with animals, hobby-horses, and other figures, therein
specified.[447] In 1599, Henry Hardman, Esq. the mayor of Chester in
that year, from religious motives, caused the giants in the Midsummer
show “to be broken, and not to goe _the devil in his feathers_,” and he
provided a man in complete armour to go in their stead; but in 1601,
John Ratclyffe, a beer-brewer, being mayor, set out the giants and the
Midsummer show as usual. On the restoration of Charles II. new ones were
ordered to be made, and the estimate for finding the materials and
workmanship of the four great giants, as they were before, was at five
pounds a giant; and four men to carry them at two shillings and sixpence
each. The materials for making these Chester giants were deal-boards,
nails, pasteboard, scaleboard, paper of various sorts, buckram, size
cloth, and old sheets for their bodies, sleeves, and shirts, which were
to be coloured; also tinsel, tinfoil, gold and silver leaf, and colours
of different kinds. A pair of old sheets were to cover the _father and
mother giants_, and three yards of buckram were provided for the
mother’s and _daughter’s_ hoods. There is an entry in the Chester
charges of one shilling and fourpence “for arsenic to put into the paste
to save the giants from being eaten by the rats;”[448] a precaution
which, if adopted in the formation of the old wicker-giants of London,
was not effectual, though how long they had ceased to exist before the
reparation of the hall, and the carving of their successors, does not
appear. One conjecture may perhaps be hazarded, that, as after the mayor
of Chester had ordered the giants there to be destroyed, he provided a
man in armour as a substitute; so perhaps the dissolution of the old
London wicker-giants, and the lumbering incapacity of the new wooden
ones for the duty of lord mayor’s show, occasioned the appearance of the
men in armour in that procession.
Until the last reparation of Guildhall, in 1815, the present giants
stood with the old clock and a balcony of iron-work between them, over
the stairs leading from the hall to the courts of law and the council
chamber. When they were taken down in that year, and placed on the floor
of the hall, I thoroughly examined them as they lay in that situation.
They are made of wood,[449] and hollow within, and from the method of
joining and gluing the interior, are evidently of late construction, and
every way too substantially built for the purpose of being either
carried or drawn, or any way exhibited in a pageant. On inspecting them
at that period, I made minute inquiry of an old and respectable officer
of Guildhall, with whom they were favourites, as to what particulars
existed in the city archives concerning them; he assured me that he had
himself anxiously desired information on the same subject, and that
after an investigation through the different offices, there was not a
trace of the period when they commenced to be, nor the least record
concerning them. This was subsequently confirmed to me by gentlemen
belonging to other departments.
However stationary the present ponderous figures were destined to
remain, there can scarcely be a question as to the frequent use of their
wicker predecessors in the corporation shows. The giants were great
favourites in the pageants.[450] Stow, in describing the ancient setting
of the nightly watch in London on St John’s eve, relates that “the mayor
was surrounded by his footmen and torch-bearers, and followed by two
henchmen on large horses: the mayor had, besides his _giant_, three
pageants; whereas the sheriffs had only two, besides their _giants_,
each with their morris dance and one henchman.”[451] It is related,
that, to make the people wonder, these giants were armed, and marched as
if they were alive, to the great diversion of the boys, who, peering
under, found them stuffed with brown paper.[452] A character in
Marston’s “Dutch Courtezan,” a comedy acted in 1605, says, “Yet all will
scarce make me so high as one of the _gyant’s stilts_ that stalks before
my lord mayor’s pageants.”[453]
During queen Elizabeth’s progress to her coronation, Gogmagog and
Corinæus, two giants, were stationed at Temple-bar. It is not certain,
yet it is probable, that these were the wicker-giants brought from
Guildhall for the occasion. In the reign before, when queen Mary and
Philip II. of Spain made their public entry, there was at London bridge
a grand spectacle, with two images representing two giants, the one
named Corinæus, and the other Gogmagog, holding between them certain
Latin verses.[454] There is scarcely a likelihood that these were any
other than the Guildhall giants, which on the occasion of a corporation
rejoicing could be removed with the utmost ease.
Orator Henley, on the 21st of October, 1730, availed himself of the
anticipated civic festival for that year to deliver a lecture upon it,
mentioning the _giants_, which he announced by newspaper advertisement
as follows:--
At the Oratory, the corner of Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields, near Clare-market,
this Day, being Wednesday, at Six o’Clock in the Evening, will be a
new Riding upon an old Cavalcade, entituled THE CITY IN ITS GLORY; OR,
MY LORD MAYOR’S SHEW: Explaining to all Capacities that wonderful
Procession, so much envy’d in Foreign Parts, and nois’d at Paris: on
my Lord Mayor’s Day; the fine Appearance and Splendor of the Companies
of Trade; Bear and Chain; the Trumpets, Drums, and Cries, intermix’d;
the qualifications of my L--’s Horse, the whole Art and History of the
City Ladies and Beaux at Gape-stare in the Balconies; the Airs, Dress,
and Motions; THE TWO GIANTS walking out to keep Holiday; like Snails
o’er a Cabbage, says an old Author, they all crept along; admir’d by
their Wives, and huzza’d by the Throng.
There is no stronger evidence of the indifference to playfulness and wit
at city elections, than the almost total silence on those occasions
respecting such ample subjects for allusion and parallel as the giants
in the hall. Almost the only instance of their application in this way
is to be found in a handbill on occasion of a mayoralty election, dated
Oct. 4th, 1816, addressed “To the London Tavern Livery and their
Spouses.” It states, that “the day after Mr. Alderman ---- is elected
lord mayor for the year ensuing, the following entertainments will be
provided for your amusement gratis, viz. 1. The two giants, at the
bottom of the hall, will dance a minuet by steam, attended by Mr.
Alderman ---- in a new wig upon an elastic principle, gentleman having
bought half of his old one for the purpose of making a new peruke for
the aforesaid giants.” This is the first humorous allusion to the giants
after their removal to their present station.
It is imagined by the author of the “Gigantick History,” that the
Guildhall giants represent Corinæus a Trojan, and Gogmagog a Cornish
giant, whose story is related at large in that work; the author of which
supposes, that as “Corinæus and Gogmagog were two brave giants, who
nicely valued their honour, and exerted their whole strength and force
in defence of their liberty and country; so the city of London, by
placing these their representatives in their Guildhall, emblematically
declare, that they will, like mighty giants, defend the honour of their
country and liberties of this their city, which excels all others, as
much as those huge giants exceed in stature the common bulk of mankind.”
Each of these giants, as they now stand, measures upwards of fourteen
feet in height: the young one is believed to be Corinæus, and the old
one Gogmagog.
Such being the chief particulars respecting these enormous carvings, the
terror of the children, the wonder of the ’prentices, and the talk of
the multitude, in former days, I close the subject, satisfied with
having authenticated their origin. Trifling as this affair may seem, I
pursued the inquiry for upwards of sixteen years; and though much of the
time I spent in the search might have been better employed, I can assure
those who are unacquainted with the nature of such investigations, that
I had much pleasure in the pursuit, and when I had achieved my purpose I
felt more highly gratified, than I think I should had I attained to the
dignity of being “proud London’s proud lord mayor.”
There are other memoranda respecting the giants and lord mayors’ shows
in my volume on “Ancient Mysteries,” from whence the present particulars
are extracted.
*
[443] Hatton’s New View of London, 1708, 8vo. p. 607.
[444] See the “Narrative,” by R. Lowman, 1685, folio, half sheet,
1685.
[445]
“-------------- a citizen
Of credit and renown,
A _trainband captain_----.”--_Cowper_.
[446] Harl. MSS. 1368.
[447] Ibid. 2125.
[448] Strutt’s Sports, Pref. p. xxvi.
[449] Noorthouck writing in 1773, (Hist. of London, 4to. p. 590,)
erroneously affirms that the giants are made of pasteboard.
[450] Strutt, p. xxiii.
_Giants_ were introduced into the May-games. “On the 26th of May,
1555, was a gay May-game at St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, with giants
and hobby-horses, drums and guns, morris-dancers, and other
minstrels.”--(Strype’s Memorials.) Burton, in his “Anatomy of
Melancholy,” includes giants among the ordinary domestic recreations
of winter.
[451] Strutt, p. 319.
[452] Brand, i. p. 257.
[453] _Stilts_ to increase the stature of the _giants_, and the
introduction of the _morris-dance_, are instances of the desire to
gratify the fondness of our ancestors for strange sights and festive
amusements. A cock dancing on _stilts_ to the music of a pipe and
tabor is in Strutt’s Sports, from a book of prayers written towards
the close of the thirteenth century. Harl. MSS. 6563.
[454] Strutt’s Sports, Pref. p. xxvii.
* * * * *