angle of the choir of the cathedral church. It was used not only for the
instruction of mankind, by the doctrine of the preacher, but for every
purpose political or ecclesiastical--for giving force to oaths; for
promulgating laws, or rather royal pleasure; for the emission of papal
bulls; for anathematising sinners; for benedictions; for exposing
penitents under censure of the Church; for recantations; for the private
ends of the ambitious; and for the defaming of those who had incurred
the displeasure of crowned heads.
The Society of Antiquaries of London possesses an interesting painted
diptych, showing two views of Old St. Paul's on one side, and another,
in which the cathedral church occupies only a minor place, on the other
side.
One of those three pictures is of peculiar value for the present purpose
inasmuch as it gives a vivid and, in a way, realistic representation of
Paul's Cross and its surroundings in the year 1620. There are certain
features in the picture which are obviously inaccurate. The view which
is taken from the north-west of the cathedral is, for example, made to
include the great east window of the choir by, as Sir George Scharf
remarked, "an unwarrantable straining of the laws of perspective."
Again, the nave and choir are improperly made to appear shorter than the
north and south transepts. But with regard to the cross itself, which
forms the chief object in the foreground, the details are represented in
a manner and with a completeness which suggest accuracy.
The representation of the actual cross is probably the best in
existence, and has furnished the data upon which artists have largely
depended in the various attempts to reconstruct the great historical
scenes which took place long ago at Paul's Cross. The pulpit proper was
covered by a rather gracefully shaped roof of timber covered with lead
and bearing representations of the arms of Bishop Kempe at various
points. Above the roof, and indeed rising out of it, was a large and
slightly ornamental cross. The brickwork enclosing the cross, which is
known to have been erected in 1595, is clearly shown in the picture.
So numerous are the great public events which have taken place at Paul's
Cross that it is not possible to give details of them in this article.
[Illustration: OLD WOODEN HOUSES, NEAR THE TEMPLE GATE, FLEET STREET.]
The date of the demolition of Paul's Cross is stated by Dugdale to have
been 1643, but the late Canon Sparrow Simpson produced evidence which
clearly proves that it was pulled down before 1641, and probably
before 1635. In the charge-books of the cathedral there is an entry
under June, 1635, which shows that labourers were employed in carrying
away "the lead, timber, etc., that was pull'd downe of the roomes where
the Prebends of the Church, the Doctors of the Law, and the Parishioners
of St. Ffaith's did sett to heare sermons at St. Paul's Crosse."
Succeeding entries in the same volume render it highly probable that the
cross had previously been taken down, and that preparations were being
made for its re-erection.
The Great Fire probably destroyed any other traces which may then have
been remaining of this extremely interesting old preaching-cross. The
foundations alone have been preserved. These were discovered by the late
Mr. C. F. Penrose, the surveyor to the cathedral, in the year 1879, and
they are now indicated by an octagonal outline of stones on the
ground-level close to the north-east corner of the present cathedral
church.
Steps are now being taken to build another cross on the site of Paul's
Cross, a legacy of five thousand pounds having been left for that
purpose by the late H. C. Richards, M.P.
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[71] See introduction to the _Catalogue of the Anglo-Jewish Historical
Exhibition_, 1887.
[72] See Coote's _The Romans of Britain_ and Gomme's _The Governance of
London_.
THE LIVES OF THE PEOPLE
BY THE EDITOR
A study of contemporary documents enables us to picture to ourselves the
appearance of Old London in mediaeval times, and to catch a glimpse of
the manners and customs of the people and the lives they led. The
regulations of the city authorities, the letter-books, journals, and
repertories preserved in the Record Room at Guildhall, which show an
unbroken record of all events and transactions--social, political,
ecclesiastical, legal, military, naval, local, and municipal--extending
over a period of six centuries; the invaluable _Liber Albus_ of the city
of London; the history and regulations of the Guilds; the descriptions
of Stow, Fitzstephen, and others--all help to enable us to make a sketch
of the London of the Middle Ages, which differs very widely from the
city so well known to us to-day.
The dangers of sieges and wars were not yet over, and the walls of Old
London were carefully preserved and guarded. The barons in John's time
adopted a ready means for repairing them. They broke into the Jews'
houses, ransacked their coffers, and then repaired the walls and gates
with stones taken from their broken houses. This repair was afterwards
done in more seemly wise at the common charges of the city. Some
monarchs made grants of a toll upon all wares sold by land or by water
for the repair of the wall. Edward IV. paid much attention to the walls,
and ordered Moorfields to be searched for clay in order to make bricks,
and chalk to be brought from Kent for this purpose. The executors of Sir
John Crosby, the wealthy merchant and founder of Crosby Place, also did
good service, and placed the knight's arms on the parts that they
repaired. The City Companies also came to the rescue, and kept the walls
in good order.
[Illustration: SOUTH VIEW OF OLD ST. PAUL'S WHEN THE SPIRE WAS STANDING.
_From an old print._]
Within these walls the pulse of the city life beat fast. The area
enclosed was not large, only about the size of Hyde Park, but it must
have been the busiest spot on earth; there was life and animation in
every corner. In the city the chief noblemen had houses, or inns, as
they were called, which were great buildings capable of housing a large
retinue. We read of Richard, Duke of York, coming in 1457 to the city
with four hundred men, who were lodged in Baynard's Castle; of the Earl
of Salisbury with five hundred men on horseback lodging in the Herber, a
house at Dowgate belonging to the Earl of Warwick, who himself stayed
with six hundred men at his inn in Warwick Lane, where, says Stow,
"there were oftentimes six oxen eaten at a breakfast." Eight hundred men
were brought by the Dukes of Exeter and Somerset, and one thousand five
hundred by the Earl of Northumberland, the Lord Egremont, and the Lord
Clifford. The houses of these noble owners have long since disappeared,
but the memory of them is recorded by the names of streets, as we shall
attempt to show in a subsequent chapter. Even in Stow's time, who wrote
in 1598, they were ruinous, or had been diverted from their original
uses. The frequent visits of these noble persons must have caused
considerable excitement in the city, and provided abundant employment
for the butchers and bakers.
The great merchants, too, were very important people who had their fine
houses, of which the last surviving one was Crosby Hall, which we shall
describe presently, a house that has been much in the minds of the
citizens of London during the present year. Stow says that there were
many other houses of the same class of the fourteenth and fifteenth
centuries, and that they were "builded with stone and timber." In such
houses, which had a sign swinging over the door, the merchant and his
family lived and dined at the high table in the great hall, his
'prentices and servants sitting in the rush-strewn "marsh," as the lower
portion of the hall was anciently named. These apprentices played an
important part in the old city life. They had to serve for a term of
seven years, and then, having "been sworn of the freedom" and enrolled
on the books of the city, they were allowed to set up their shop or
follow their trade. They were a lively, turbulent class of young men,
ever ready to take to their weapons and shout "Clubs! Clubs!" whereat
those who lived in one merchant's house would rush together and attack
the apprentices of a rival merchant, or unite forces and pursue the
hated "foreigners"--_i.e._, those who presumed to trade and had not
been admitted to the freedom of the city. Boys full of high spirits,
they were ever ready to join in a fight, to partake in sports and games,
and even indulged in questionable amusements--frequented taverns and
bowling alleys, played dice and other unlawful games, for which
misdemeanours they were liable to receive a good flogging from their
masters and other punishments. They had a distinctive dress, which
changed with the fashions, and at the close of the mediaeval period they
were wearing blue cloaks in summer, and in winter blue coats or gowns,
their stockings being of white broadcloth "sewed close up to their round
slops or breeches, as if they were all but of one piece." Later on, none
were allowed to wear "any girdle, point, garters, shoe-strings, or any
kind of silk or ribbon, but stockings only of woollen yarn or kersey;
nor Spanish shoes; nor hair with any tuft or lock, but cut short in
decent and comely manner." If an apprentice broke these rules, or
indulged in dancing or masking, or "haunting any tennis court, common
bowling alley, cock-fighting, etc., or having without his master's
knowledge any chest, trunk, etc., or any horse, dog or fighting-cock,"
he was liable to imprisonment. Chaucer gives an amusing picture of the
fondness of the city apprentices for "ridings"--_i.e._, for the
processions and pageants which took place when a king or queen entered
the city in state, and such like joyful occasions--and for similar
diversions:
"A prentis whilom dwelt in our Citie,
And of a craft of vitaillers was he;
At every bridale would he sing and hoppe;
He loved bet the taverne than the shoppe.
For whan ther any riding was in chepe,
Out of the shoppe thither would he lepe,
And till that he all the sight ysein,
And danced well, he would not come agein;
And gathered him a many of his sort,
To hoppe and sing, and maken such disport."
The presence of large companies of these somewhat boisterous youths must
have added considerable life and animation to the town.
We have seen the noble in his town house, the merchant in his fine
dwelling. Let us visit the artizan and small tradesman. The earliest
historian of London, Fitzstephen, tells us that the two great evils of
his time were "the immoderate drinking of foolish persons and the
frequent fires." In early times the houses were built of wood, roofed
with straw or stubble thatch. Hence when a single house caught fire, the
conflagration spread, as in the reign of Stephen, when a fire broke out
at London Bridge; it spread rapidly, destroyed St. Paul's, and extended
as far as St. Clement Danes. Hence in the first year of Richard I. it
was enacted that the lower story of all houses in the city should be
built with stone, and the roof covered with thick tiles. The tradesman
or artizan had a small house with a door, and a window with a double
shutter arrangement, the upper part being opened and turned outwards,
forming a penthouse, and the lower a stall. Minute regulations were
passed as to the height of the penthouse, which was not to be less than
nine feet, so as to enable "folks on horseback to ride beneath them,"
and the stall was not to project more than two and a half feet. In this
little house the shoemaker, founder, or tailor lived and worked; and as
you passed down the narrow street, which was very narrow and very
unsavoury, with an open drain running down the centre, you would see
these busy townsfolk plying their trades and making a merry noise.
A very amusing sketch of the appearance of London at this period, and of
the manners of the inhabitants, is given in Lydgate's _London's
Lickpenny_. A poor countryman came to London to seek legal redress for
certain grievances. The street thieves were very active, for as soon as
he entered Westminster his hood was snatched from his head in the midst
of the crowd in broad daylight. In the streets of Westminster he was
encountered by Flemish merchants, strolling to and fro, like modern
pedlars, vending hats and spectacles, and shouting, "What will you buy?"
At Westminster Gate, at the hungry hour of mid-day, there were bread,
ale, wine, ribs of beef, and tables set out for such as had wherewith to
pay. He proceeded on his way by the Strand, at that time not so much a
street as a public road connecting the two cities, though studded on
each side by the houses of noblemen; and, having entered London, he
found it resounding with the cries of peascods, strawberries, cherries,
and the more costly articles of pepper, saffron, and spices, all hawked
about the streets. Having cleared his way through the press, and arrived
at Cheapside, he found a crowd much larger than he had as yet
encountered, and shopkeepers plying before their shops or booths,
offering velvet, silk, lawn, and Paris thread, and seizing him by the
hand that he might turn in and buy. At London-stone were the
linendrapers, equally clamorous and urgent; while the medley was
heightened by itinerant vendors crying "hot sheep's feet, mackerel," and
other such articles of food. Our Lickpenny now passed through Eastcheap,
which Shakespeare later on associates with a rich supply of sack and fat
capons, and there he found ribs of beef, pies, and pewter pots,
intermingled with harping, piping, and the old street carols of Julian
and Jenkin. At Cornhill, which at that time seems to have been a noted
place for the receivers of stolen goods, he saw his own hood, stolen at
Westminster, exposed for sale. After refreshing himself with a pint of
wine, for which he paid the taverner one penny, he hastened to
Billingsgate, where the watermen hailed him with their cry, "Hoo! go we
hence!" and charged him twopence for pulling him across the river.
Bewildered and oppressed, Master Lickpenny was delighted to pay the
heavy charge, and to make his escape from the din and confusion of the
great city, resolving never again to enter its portals or to have
anything to do with London litigation.
Then there was the active Church life of the city. During the mediaeval
period, ecclesiastical, social, and secular life were so blended
together that religion entered into all the customs of the people, and
could not be separated therefrom. In our chapter upon the City Companies
we have pointed out the strong religious basis of the Guilds. The same
spirit pervaded all the functions of the city. The Lord Mayor was
elected with solemn ecclesiastical functions. The holidays of the
citizens were the Church festivals and saints' days. In Fitzstephen's
time there were no less than one hundred and twenty-six parish churches,
besides thirteen great conventual churches. The bells of the churches
were continually sounding, their doors were ever open, and the market
women, hucksters, artizans, 'prentices, merchants, and their families
had continual resort to them for mass and prayer. Strict laws were in
force to prevent men from working on saints' days and festivals, and if
the wardens or searchers of a company discovered one of their trade, a
carpenter, or cobbler, or shoemaker, working away in a cellar or garret,
they would soon haul him up before the court of the company, where he
would be fined heavily.
The life of the streets was full of animation. Now there would be
ridings in the Cheap, the companies clad in gay apparel, the stands
crowded with the city dames and damsels in fine array; pageants
cunningly devised, besides which even Mr. Louis Parker's display at the
last Lord Mayor's procession would have appeared mean and tawdry; while
the conduits flowed with wine, and all was merry. Now it is Corpus
Christi Day, and there is a grand procession through the streets, which
stirs the anger of Master Googe, who thus wrote of what he saw:
Then doth ensue the solemne feast
Of Corpus Christi Day,
Who then can shewe their wicked use
And fond and foolish play.
The hallowed bread with worship great
In silver pix they beare
About the Churche or in the citie,
Passing here and theare.
His armes that beares the same, two of
The wealthiest men do holde:
And over him a canopy
Of silke and clothe of golde.
Christ's passion here derided is
With sundry maskes and playes.
Fair Ursley, with her maydens all
Doth passe amid the wayes.
And valiant George with speare thou killest
The dreadfull dragon here,
The devil's house is drawne about
Wherein there doth appere
A wondrous sort of damned spirites
With foule and fearfull looke.
Great Christopher doth wade and passe
With Christ amid the brooke.
Sebastian full of feathered shaftes
The dint of dart doth feel,
There walketh Kathren with her sworde
In hand and cruel wheele.
The Challis and the Singing Cake
With Barbara is led,
And sundrie other pageants playe
In worship of this bred....
The common wayes with bowes are strawne
And every streete beside,
And to the walles and windows all
Are boughes and braunches tide.
And monkes in every place do roame,
The nunnes abroad are sent,
The priests and schoolmen loud do rore
Some use the instrument.
The straunger passing through the streete
Uppon his knees doth fall,
And earnestly uppon this bred
As on his God, doth calle....
A number grete of armed men
Here all this while do stand,
To look that no disorder be
Nor any filching hand.
For all the church goodes out are brought
Which certainly would be
A bootie good, if every man
Might have his libertie.
Verily Master Googe's fingers itched to carry off some of this "bootie
good," but we are grateful to him for giving us such a realistic
description of the processions on Corpus Christi Day.
Religious plays were also not infrequent. These the city folk dearly
loved. Clerkenwell was a favourite place for their performance, and
there the Worshipful Company of the Clerks of London performed some
wonderful mysteries. In 1391 A.D. they were acting before the King, his
Queen, and many nobles, "The Passion of our Lord and the Creation of the
World," a performance which lasted three days. At Skinners' Well, the
Company of the Skinners "held there certain plays yearly"; and in 1409
the Clerks performed a great play which lasted eight days, when the most
part of the nobles and gentles in England were present. Originally these
plays were performed in the churches, but owing to the gradually
increased size of the stage, the sacred buildings were abandoned as the
scenes of mediaeval drama. Then the churchyards were utilised, and in the
fourteenth and fifteenth centuries the people liked to act their plays
in the highways and public places as at Clerkenwell, which, owing to the
configuration of the ground, was well adapted for the purpose.
Strange scenes of savage punishment attract the attention of the
unfeeling crowd in the city streets, who jeer at the sufferers. Here is
a poor man drawn upon a hurdle from the Guildhall to his own house. He
is a baker who has made faulty bread, and the law states that he should
be so drawn through the great streets where most people are assembled,
and especially through the great streets that are most dirty (that is
especially laid down in the statutes), with the faulty bread hanging
from his neck. There stands the pillory, and on it, with head and hands
fast, is another baker, who has been guilty of a second offence. Blood
is streaming from his face, where cruel stones have hit him, and rotten
eggs and filth are hurled at him during the one hour "at least" which he
has to remain there.
But there were less savage amusements than the baiting of bakers. Jousts
and tournaments periodically created unwonted excitement, as when, in
1389, there was a mighty contest at Smithfield. Froissart tells us that
heralds were sent to every country in Europe where chivalry was
honoured, to proclaim the time and place, and brave knights were invited
to splinter a lance, or wield a sword, in honour of their mistresses.
Knights and nobles from far and near assembled. London was thronged with
warriors of every clime and language. Smithfield was surrounded with
temporary chambers and pavilions, constructed for the accommodation of
the King and the princes, the Queen and the maidens of her court; and
when the solemnity was about to commence, sixty horses, richly
accoutred, were led to the lists by squires, accompanied by heralds and
minstrels; after which, sixty ladies followed on palfreys, each lady
leading an armed knight by a chain of silver. The first day the games
commenced with encounters of the lance, the two most skilful combatants
receiving as prizes a golden crown and a rich girdle adorned with
precious stones; after which, the night was spent in feasting and
dancing. During five days the contest lasted, and each evening called
the knights and dames to the same joyous festivities and pastimes. The
'prentices and citizens enjoyed the spectacle quite as much as the
combatants, and the young men used to copy their betters and practise
feats of war, riding on horseback, and using disarmed lances and
shields. Battles, too, were fought on the water, when young men in
boats, with lance in rest, charged a shield hung on a pole fixed in the
midst of the stream. This sport provided great amusement to the
spectators, who stood upon the bridge or wharf and neighbouring houses,
especially when the adventurous youths failed and fell into the river.
Leaping, dancing, shooting, wrestling, casting the stone, and practising
their shields were the favourite amusements of the London youths, while
the maidens tripped to the sound of their timbrels, and danced as long
as they could well see. In winter, boars were set to fight, bulls and
bears were baited, and cock-fighting was the recognised amusement of
schoolboys.
When the frost covered the great fen on the north side of the city with
ice, good Fitzstephen delighted to watch "the young men play upon the
ice; some, striding as wide as they may, do slide swiftly; others make
themselves seats of ice as great as millstones; one sits down, many hand
in hand do draw him, and one slipping on a sudden, all fall together;
some tie bones to their feet and under their heels, and, shoving
themselves by a little picked staff, do slide as swiftly as a bird
flieth in the air, or as an arrow out of a crossbow. Sometimes two run
together with poles, and, hitting one another, either one or both do
fall, not without hurt; some break their arms, some their legs; but
youth desirous of glory in this sort exerciseth itself against the time
of war." Lord Roberts and other patriots would like to see the youth of
the present day, not breaking their arms and legs, but exercising
themselves against the time of war. The citizens used also to delight
themselves in hawks and hounds, for they had liberty of hunting in
Middlesex, Hertfordshire, all Chiltron, and in Kent to the water of
Cray. The game of quintain, which I need not describe, was much in
vogue. Stow saw a quintain at Cornhill, where men made merry disport,
and the maidens used to dance for garlands hung athwart the streets.
Time would fail to tell of the May-day junketings, of the setting up of
the May-pole in Cornhill before the church of St. Andrew, hence called
Undershaft; of the Mayings at early dawn, the bringing in of the may,
the archers, morris dancers and players, Robin Hood and Maid Marian, the
horse races at Smithfield, so graphically described by Fitzstephen, and
much else that tells of the joyous life of the people.