Whittington's, but he must have lived in his own parish of St. Michael's
Paternoster Royal, and, one is pretty certain, on the spot where was
afterwards built his college, which stood on the north side of the
church. Here he entertained Henry of Agincourt and Katherine, his bride,
with a magnificence which astonished the king. But Whittington knew what
he was doing; the banquet was not ostentation and display; its cost was
far more than repaid by the respect for the wealth and power of the city
which it nourished and maintained in the kingly mind. The memory of this
and other such feasts, we may be very sure, had its after effect even
upon those most masterful of sovereigns, Henry VIII. and Queen Bess. On
this occasion it was nothing that the tables groaned with good things,
and glittered with gold and silver plate; it was nothing that the fires
were fed with cedar and perfumed wood. For this princely Mayor fed these
fires after dinner with nothing less than the king's bonds to the amount
of £60,000. In purchasing power that sum would now be represented by a
million and a quarter.
A truly royal gift.
It was not given to many merchants, "sounding always the increase of
their winning," thus to thrive and prosper. Most of them lived in more
modest dwellings. All of them lived in comparative discomfort, according
to modern ideas. When we read of mediæval magnificence we must remember
that the standard of what we call comfort was much lower in most
respects than at present. In the matter of furniture, for instance,
though the house was splendid inside and out with carvings, coats of
arms painted and gilt, there were but two or three beds in it, the
servants sleeping on the floor; the bedrooms were small and dark; the
tables were still laid on trestles, and removed when the meal was
finished; there were benches where we have chairs; and for carpet they
had rushes or mats of plaited straw; and though the tapestry was costly,
the windows were draughty, and the doors ill-fitting. When, with the
great commercial advance of the fourteenth century, space by the river
became more valuable, the disposition of the Hall, with its little
court, became necessarily modified. The house, which was warehouse as
well as residence, ran up into several stories high--the earliest maps
of London show many such houses beside Queenhithe, and in the busiest
and most crowded parts of the City; on every story there was a wide door
for the reception of bales and crates; a rope and pulley were fixed to a
beam at the highest gable for hoisting and lowering the goods. The front
of the house was finely ornamented with carved wood-work. One may still
see such houses--streets full of them--in the ancient City of
Hildesheim, near Hanover.
[Illustration: CROSBY HALL]
On the river-bank, exactly under what is now Cannon Street Railway
Station, stood the Steelyard, Guildæ Aula Teutonicorum. In appearance it
was a house of stone, with a quay towards the river, a square court, a
noble Hall, and three arched gates towards Thames Street. This was the
house of the Hanseatic League, whose merchants for three hundred years
and more enjoyed the monopoly of importing hemp, corn, wax, steel, linen
cloths, and, in fact, carried on the whole trade with Germany and the
Baltic, so that until the London merchants pushed out their ships into
the Mediterranean and the Levant their foreign trade was small, and
their power of gaining wealth small in proportion. This strange
privilege granted to foreigners grew by degrees. At first, unless the
foreign merchants of the Hanse towns and of Flanders and of France had
not brought over their wares they could not have sold them, because
there were no London merchants to import them. Therefore they came, and
they came to stay. They gradually obtained privileges; they were careful
to obey the laws, and give no cause for jealousy or offence; and they
kept their privileges, living apart in their own college, till Edward
VI. at last took them away. In memory of their long residence in the
city, the merchants of Hamburg in the reign of Queen Anne presented the
church where they had worshipped, All Hallows the Great, with a
magnificent screen of carved wood. The church, built by Wren after the
Fire, is a square box of no architectural pretensions, but is glorified
by this screen.
The great (comparative) wealth of the City is shown by the proportion it
was called upon to pay towards the king's loans. In 1397, for instance,
London was assessed at £6,666 13_s._ 4_d._, while Bristol, which came
next, was called upon for £800 only; Norwich for £333, Boston for £300,
and Plymouth for no more than £20. And in the graduated poll tax of
1379, the Lord Mayor of London had to pay £4--the same as an Earl, a
Bishop, or a mitred Abbot, while the Aldermen were regarded as on the
same line with Barons, and paid £2 each.
Between the merchant adventurers, who sometimes entertained kings and
had a fleet of ships always on the sea, and the retail trader there was
as great a gulf then as at any after-time. Between the retail trader,
who was an employer of labor, and the craftsman there was a still
greater gulf. The former lived in plenty and in comfort. His house was
provided with a spacious hearth, and windows, of which the upper part,
at least, was of glass. The latter lived in one of the mean and low
tenements, which, according to Dr. Brewer, made up the whole of London.
There were a great many of those, because there are always a great many
poor in a large town. Nay, there were narrow lanes and filthy courts
where there were nothing but one-storied hovels, built of wattle and
clay, the roof thatched with reeds, the fire burning in the middle of
the room, the occupants sleeping in old Saxon fashion, wrapped in rugs
around the central fire. The lanes and courts were narrow and unpaved,
and filthy with every kind of refuse. In those crowded and fetid streets
the plague broke out, fevers always lingered, the children died of
putrid throat, and in these places began the devastating fires that from
time to time swept the City.
The main streets of the City were not mean at all; they were broad, well
built, picturesque. If here and there a small tenement reared its
timbered and plastered front among the tall gables, it added to the
beauty of the street; it broke the line. Take Chepe, for instance, the
principal seat of retail trade. At the western end stood the Church of
St. Michael le Quern where Paternoster Row begins. On the north side
were the churches of St. Peter West Chepe, St. Thomas Acon, St. Mary
Cole Church, and St. Mildred. On the south side were the churches of St.
Mary le Bow and St. Mary Woolchurch. In the streets running north and
south rose the spires of twenty other churches. On the west side of St.
Mary le Bow stood a long stone gallery, from which the Queen and her
ladies could witness the tournaments and the ridings. In the middle was
the "Standard," with a conduit of fresh-water; there were two crosses,
one being that erected by Edward I., to mark a resting-place of his dead
Queen. Round the "Standard" were booths. At the west end of Chepe were
_selds_, which are believed to have been open bazaars for the sale of
goods. Another cross stood at the west end, close to St. Michael le
Quern. Here executions of citizens were held; on its broad road the
knights rode in tilt on great days; the stalls were crowded with those
who came to look on and to buy, the street was noisy with the voices of
those who displayed their wares and called upon the folk to
buy--buy--buy. You may hear the butchers in Clare Market or the costers
in Whitecross Street keeping up the custom to the present day. The
citizens walked and talked; the Alderman went along in state,
accompanied by his officers; they brought out prisoners and put them
into the pillory; the church bells clashed, and chimed, and tolled;
bright cloth of scarlet hung from the upper windows if it was a feast
day, or if the Mayor and Aldermen had a riding; the streets were bright
with the colors of that many-colored time, when the men vied with the
women in bravery of attire, and when all classes spent upon raiment sums
of money, in proportion to the rest of their expenditure, which sober
nineteenth-century folk can hardly believe. Chaucer is full of the
extravagance in dress. There is the young squire--
Embroidered was he as if it were a mead
All full of freshest flowers, white and red.
[Illustration: NORTH-EAST VIEW OF CROSBY HALL, SHOWING PART OF THE
INTERIOR OF THE GREAT HALL.]
Or the carpenter's wife--
A seynt [girdle] she wered barred all of silk
In barm cloth eke as white as mornë milk
Upon her lendes [loins] full of many a gore.
White was her smock and browded all before,
And eke behind on her coler about
Of cole black silk within and eke without.
Or the wife of Bath, with her scarlet stockings and her fine kerchiefs.
And the knights decked their horses as gayly as themselves. And the city
notables went clad in gowns of velvet or silk lined with fur; their hats
were of velvet with gold lace; their doublets were of rich silk; they
carried thick gold chains about their necks, and massive gold rings upon
their fingers.
With all this outward show, this magnificence of raiment, these
evidences of wealth, would one mark the small tenements which here and
there, even in Chepe, stood between the churches and the substantial
merchants' houses? We measure the splendors of a city by its best, and
not by its worst.
The magnates of London, from generation to generation, showed far more
wisdom, tenacity, and clearness of vision than can be found in the
annals of Venice, Genoa, or any other mediæval city. Above all things,
they maintained the city liberties and the rights obtained from
successive kings; yet they were always loyal so long as loyalty was
possible; when that was no longer possible, as in the case of Richard
II., they threw the whole weight of their wealth and influence into the
other side. If fighting was wanted, they were ready to send out their
youths to fight--nay, to join the army themselves; witness the story of
Sir John Philpot, Mayor in 1378. There was a certain Scottish adventurer
named Mercer. This man had gotten together a small fleet of ships, with
which he harassed the North Sea and did great havoc among the English
merchantmen. Nor could any remonstrance addressed to the Crown effect
any redress. What was to be done? Clearly, if trade was to be carried on
at all, this enemy must be put down. Therefore, without much ado, the
gallant Mayor gathered together at his own expense a company of a
thousand stout fellows, put them on board, and sallied forth, himself
their admiral, to fight this piratical Scot. He found him, in fact, in
Scarborough Bay with his prizes. Sir John fell upon him at once, slew
him and most of his men, took all his ships, including the prizes, and
returned to the port of London with his spoils, including fifteen
Spanish ships which had joined the Scotchman. Next year the king was in
want of other help. The arms and armor of a thousand men were in pawn.
Sir John took them out. And because the king wanted as many ships as he
could get for his expedition into France, Sir John gave him all his own,
with Mercer's ships and the Spanish prizes.
[Illustration: GERRARD'S HALL.]
To treat adequately of the foreign trade of the city during these
centuries would require a volume. It has, in fact, received more than a
single volume.[12] The English merchantman sailed everywhere. There were
commercial treaties with Brittany, Burgundy, Portugal, Castile, Genoa,
and Venice. English merchants who traded with Prussia were empowered by
Henry IV. to meet together and elect a governor for the adjustment of
quarrels and the reparation of injuries. The same privilege was extended
to those who traded with Holland, Zealand, Brabant, Flanders, Norway,
Sweden, and Denmark. The Hanseatic merchants enjoyed the privileges on
the condition--not always obtained--that English merchants should have
the same rights as the Hanseatic League. It is easy to understand what
commodities were imported from these countries. The trade was carried on
under the conditions of continued fighting. First the seas swarmed with
Scotch; French and Flemish ships were always on the lookout for English
merchant vessels--there was no peace on the water. Then there were
English pirates known as rovers of the sea, who sailed about, landing on
the coasts, pillaging small towns, and robbing farms. Sandwich was
burned, Southampton was burned. London protected herself with booms and
chains. The merchant vessels for safety sailed in fleets. Again, it was
sometimes dangerous to be resident in a foreign town in time of war; in
1429 Bergen was destroyed by the Danes, and the English merchants were
massacred; about the same time English seamen ravaged Ireland and
murdered the Royal Bailiff; reprisals and quarrels and claims were
constantly going on. Yet trade increased, and wealth with it. Other
foreign merchants settled in London besides the Hansards. Florentines
came to buy wool, and to lend money, and to sell chains and rings and
jewelled work. Genoese came to buy alum and woad and to sell weapons.
Venetians came to sell spices, drugs, and fine manufactured things.
The grete galleys of Veness and Fflorence
Be wel ladene with thynges of complacence,
All spicerye and of groceres ware,
Wyth swete wynes alle manere of cheffare.
Apes and japes and marmettes taylede,
Trifles--trifles, that lytel have avaylede.
And thynges with wyche they fetely blere our eye,
With thynges not enduring that we bye.
Ffor moche of thys cheffare that is wastable,
Myght be forebore for diere and dissevable.
Towards the end of the fourteenth century began the first grumblings of
the great religious storm that was to burst upon the world a hundred
years later. The common sort of Londoners, attached to their Church and
to its services, were as yet profoundly orthodox and unquestioning. But
it is certain that in the year 1393 the Archbishop of York complained
formally to the king of the Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs--Whittington
was then one of the Sheriffs--that they were _male creduli_, that is, of
little faith; upholders of Lollards, detractors of religious persons,
detainers of tithes, and defrauders of the poor. When persecutions,
however, began in earnest, not a single citizen of position was charged
with heresy. Probably the Archbishop's charge was based upon some
quarrel over tithes and Church dues. At the same time, no one who has
read Chaucer can fail to understand that men's minds were made uneasy by
the scandals of religion, the contrast between profession and practice.
It required no knowledge of theology to remark that the monk who kept
the best of horses in his stable and the best of hounds in his kennel,
and rode to the chase as gallantly attired as any young knight, was a
strange follower of the Benedictine rule. Nor was it necessary to be a
divine in order to compare the lives of the Franciscans with their vows.
Yet the authority of the Church seemed undiminished, while its wealth,
its estates, its rank, and its privileges gave it enormous power. It is
not pretended that the merchants of London were desirous of new
doctrines, or of any tampering with the mass, or any lowering of
sacerdotal pretensions. Yet there can be no doubt that they desired
reform in some shape, and it seems as if they saw the best hope of
reform in raising the standard of education. Probably the old monastery
schools had fallen into decay. We find, for instance, a simultaneous
movement in this direction long before Henry VI. began to found and to
endow his schools. Whittington bequeathed a sum of money to create a
library for the Grey Friars; his close friend and one of his executors,
John Carpenter, Rector of St. Mary Magdalen, founded the City of London
School, now more flourishing and of greater use than ever; another
friend of Whittington, Sir John Nicol, Master of the College of St.
Thomas Acon, petitioned the Parliament for leave to establish four
schools; Whittington's own company, the Mercers, founded a school--which
still exists--upon his death. The merchants rebuilt churches, bought
advowsons and gave them to the corporation, founded charities, and left
doctrine to scholars. Yet the century which contains such men as
Wycliff, Chaucer, Gower, Occleve, William of Wykeham, Fabian, and
others, was not altogether one of blind and unquestioning obedience. And
it is worthy of remark that the first Master of Whittington's Hospital
was that Reginald Pecock who afterwards, as Bishop of Chichester, was
charged with Lollardism, and imprisoned for life as a punishment. He was
kept in a single closed chamber in Thorney Abbey, Isle of Ely. He was
never allowed out of this room; no one was to speak with him except the
man who waited upon him; he was to have neither paper, pen, ink, or
books, except a Bible, a mass-book, a psalter, and a legendary.
[Illustration: BRIDEWELL PALACE, ABOUT 1660, WITH THE ENTRANCE TO THE
FLEET RIVER, PART OF THE BLACK FRIARS, ETC.]
Among the city worthies of that time may be introduced Sir William
Walworth, the slayer of Jack Cade; Sir William Sevenoke, the first known
instance of the poor country lad of humble birth working his way to the
front; he was also the first to found and endow a grammar-school for his
native town; Sir Robert Chichele, whose brother Henry was Archbishop of
Canterbury and founder of All Souls', Oxford; this Robert, whose house
was on the site of Bakers' Hall in Harp Lane, provided by his will that
on his commemoration day two thousand four hundred poor householders of
the city should be regaled with a dinner and have twopence in money;
Sir John Rainwell, who left houses and lands to discharge the tax called
the Fifteenth in three parishes; Sir John Wells, who brought water from
Tyburn; and Sir William Estfield, who brought water from Highbury. Other
examples show that the time for endowing monasteries had passed away.
When William Elsing, early in the fourteenth century, thought of doing
something with his money, he did not leave it to the Franciscans for
masses, but he endowed a hospital for a hundred blind men; and a few
years later John Barnes gave the city a strong box with three locks,
containing a thousand marks, which were to be lent to young men
beginning business--an excellent gift. When there was a great dearth of
grain, it was the Lord Mayor who fitted out ships at his own expense and
brought corn from Prussia, which lowered the price of flour by one-half.
In the acts of these grave magistrates one can read the deep love they
bore to the City, their earnest striving for the administration with
justice of just laws, for the maintenance of good work, for the relief
of the poor, for the provision of water, and for education. Lollardism
was nothing to them. What concerned them in religion was the luxury, the
sloth, and the scandalous lives of the religious. Order they loved,
because it is only by the maintenance of order that a city can flourish.
Honesty in work of all kinds they loved, so that while they hated the
man who pretended to do true work and proffered false work, it grieved
and shamed them to see one who professed the life of purity wallow in
wickedness, like a hog in mud. Obedience they required, because without
obedience there is no government. As for the working-man, the producer,
the servant, having any share in the profits or any claim to payment
beyond his wage, such a thought never entered the head of Whittington or
Sevenoke. They were rulers; they were masters; they paid the wage; they
laid their hands upon the profits.
[Illustration: THE THAMES FRONT, A.D. 1540]
Tradition--which is always on the side of the weak--maintains that the
great merchants of the past, for the most part, made their way upward
from the poorest and most penniless conditions. They came from the
plough-tail or from the mechanic's shop; they entered the city paved
with gold, friendless, with no more than twopence, if so much, in their
pockets; they received scant favor and put up with rough fare. Then
tradition makes a jump, and shows them, on the next lifting of the
curtain, prosperous, rich, and in great honor. The typical London
merchant is Dick Whittington, whose history was blazoned in the cheap
books for all to read. One is loath to disturb venerable beliefs, but
the facts of history are exactly the opposite. The merchant adventurer,
diligent in his business, and therefore rewarded, as the wise man
prophesied for him, by standing before princes, though he began life as
a prentice, also began it as a gentleman. He belonged, at the outset, to
a good family, and had good friends both in the country and the town.
Piers Plowman never could and never did rise to great eminence in the
city. The exceptions, which are few indeed, prove the rule. Against such
a case as Sevenoke, the son of poor parents, who rose to be Lord Mayor,
we have a hundred others in which the successful merchant starts with
the advantage of gentle birth. Take, for example, the case of
Whittington himself.
He was the younger son of a Gloucestershire country gentleman, Sir
William Whittington, a knight who was outlawed for some offence. His
estate was at a village called Pauntley. In the church may still be seen
the shield of Whittington impaling Fitzwarren--Richard's wife was Alice
Fitzwarren. His mother belonged to the well-known Devonshire family of
Mansell, and was a cousin of the Fitzwarrens. The Whittingtons were thus
people of position and consideration, of knightly rank, _armigeri_,
living on their own estates, which were sufficient but not large.
For a younger son in the fourteenth century the choice of a career was
limited. He might enter the service of a great lord and follow his
fortunes. In that turbulent time there was fighting to be had at home as
well as in France, and honor to be acquired, with rank and lands, by
those who were fortunate. He might join the livery of the king. He might
enter the Church: but youths of gentle blood did not in the fourteenth
century flock readily to the Church. He might remain on the family
estate and become a bailiff. He might go up to London and become a
lawyer. There were none of the modern professions--no engineers,
architects, bankers, journalists, painters, novelists, or dramatists;
but there was trade.
Young Dick Whittington therefore chose to follow trade; rather that line
of life was chosen for him. He was sent to London under charge of
carriers, and placed in the house of his cousin, Sir John Fitzwarren,
also a gentleman before he was a merchant, as an apprentice. As he
married his master's daughter, it is reasonable to suppose that he
inherited a business, which he subsequently improved and developed
enormously. If we suppose a single man to be the owner of the Cunard
Line of steamers, running the cargoes on his own venture and for his own
profit, we may understand something of Whittington's position in the
city. The story of the cat is persistently attached to his name; it
begins immediately after his death; it was figured on the buildings
which his executors erected; it formed part of the decorations of the
family mansion at Gloucester. It is therefore impossible to avoid the
conclusion that he did himself associate the sale of a cat--then a
creature of some value and rarity--with the foundation of his fortunes.
Here, however, we have only to do with the fact that Whittington was of
gentle birth, and that he was apprenticed to a man also of gentle birth.
[Illustration: ANCIENT COURT OF BRIDEWELL PALACE]