WOODTHORPE.

Printed by A. Taylor, 40, Basinghall Street.

[Illustration: ~Lord Mayor’s Show.~]

---------------------- Behold

How London _did_ pour out her citizens!

The Mayor and all his brethren in best sort!

_Shakspeare._

The procession of the corporation of London to Westminster on the

occasion of the new lord mayor being sworn into office, is familiar to

most residents in the metropolis, and the journals annually record the

modern processions and festivals in the Guildhall, sufficiently to

acquaint those who have not witnessed them with the nature of the

proceedings. It is not purposed then, for the present, to describe what

passes in our own times, but to acquaint the citizens and all who feel

an interest in ancient customs, with something of the splendour

attendant upon the ceremony in old times.

In 1575, “William Smythe, citezen and haberdasher of London,” wrote “A

breffe description of the Royall Citie of London, capitall citie of this

realme of England.” This manuscript which is in existence sets forth as

follows:

“The day of St. Simon and St. Jude, the mayor enters into his state and

office. The next day he goes by water to Westminster in most

triumphant-like manner, his barge being garnished with the arms of the

city; and near it a ship-boat of the queen’s majesty being trimmed up

and rigged like a ship of war, with divers pieces of ordnance,

standards, pennons, and targets of the proper arms of the said mayor, of

his company, and of the merchants’ adventurers, or of the staple, or of

the company of the new trades; next before him goeth the barge of the

livery of his own company, decked with their own proper arms; then the

bachelors’ barge; and so all the companies in London, in order, every

one having their own proper barge, with the arms of their company. And

so passing along the Thames, he landeth at Westminster, where he taketh

his oath in the exchequer before the judge there; which done, he

returneth by water as aforesaid, and landeth at Paul’s wharf, where he,

and the rest of the aldermen take their horses, and in great pomp pass

through Cheapside. And first of all cometh two great standards, one

having the arms of the city, and the other the arms of the mayor’s

company: next them two drums and a flute, then an ensign of the city,

and then about lxx or lxxx poore men marching two and two, in blue

gowns, with red sleeves and caps, every one bearing a pike and a target,

whereon is painted the arms of all them that have been mayors of the

same company that this new mayor is of. Then two banners, one of the

king’s arms, the other of the mayor’s own proper arms. Then a set of

hautboys playing, and after them certain _wyfflers_,[382] in velvet

coats and chains of gold, with white staves in their hands; then the

_Pageant of Triumph_ richly decked, whereupon by certain figures and

writings, some matter touching justice and the office of a magistrate is

represented. Then sixteen trumpeters, eight and eight, having banners of

the mayor’s company. Then certain _wyfflers_ in velvet coats and chains,

with white staves as before. Then the bachelors, two and two, in long

gowns, with crimson hoods on their shoulders of satin; which bachelors

are chosen every year of the same company, that the mayor is of, (but

not of the living) and serve as gentlemen on that and other festival

days, to wait on the mayor, being in number according to the quantity of

the company, sometimes sixty, or one hundred. After them twelve

trumpeters more, with banners of the mayor’s company; then the drum and

flute of the city, and an ensign of the mayor’s company; and after, the

waits of the city in blue gowns, red sleeves and caps, every one having

a silver collar about his neck. Then they of the livery in their long

gowns, every one having his hood on his left shoulder, half-black and

half-red, the number of them according to the greatness of the company

whereof they are. After them follow sheriff’s-officers, and then the

mayor’s officers, with other officers of the city, as the common

serjeant, and the chamberlain; next before the mayor goeth the

sword-bearer, having on his head the cap of honour, and the sword of the

city in his right hand, in a rich scabbard, set with pearl, and on his

left hand goeth the common crier of the city, with his great mace on his

shoulder all gilt. The mayor hath on a long gown of scarlet, and on his

left shoulder a hood of black velvet, and a rich collar of gold or SS.

about his neck, and with him rideth the old mayor also, in his scarlet

gown, hood of velvet, and a chain of gold about his neck. Then all the

aldermen, two and two, (among whom is the recorder,) all in scarlet

gowns; those that have been mayors have chains of gold, the others have

black velvet tippets. The two sheriffs come last of all, in their black

scarlet gowns and chains of gold. In this order they pass along through

the city to the Guildhall, where they dine that day, to the number of

one thousand persons, all at the charge of the mayor and the two

sheriffs. This feast costeth 400_l._, whereof the mayor payeth 200_l._

and each of the sheriffs 100_l._ Immediately after dinner, they go to

St. Paul’s church, every one of the aforesaid poor men bearing staff,

torches, and targets, which torches are lighted when it is late, before

they come from evening prayer.”[383] In more ancient times, the

procession to and from Westminster was by land; until in 1453, sir John

Norman built a sumptuous barge at his own expense, for the purpose of

going by water, whereupon watermen made a song in his praise, beginning,

“_Row thy boat, Norman_.” The twelve companies emulating their chief

have, from that period, graced the Thames on lord mayor’s day.

The first account of this annual exhibition known to have been

published, was written by George Peele, for the inauguration of sir

Wolstone Dixie, knight, on the 29th of October, 1585. On that occasion,

as was customary to the times, there were dramatic representations in

the procession--of an allegorical character. Children were dressed to

personify the city, magnanimity, loyalty, science, the country, and the

river Thames. They also represented a soldier, a sailor, and nymphs,

with appropriate speeches. The show opened with a moor on the back of a

lynx. On sir Thomas Middleton’s mayoralty, in 1613, the solemnity is

described as unparalleled for the cost, art, and magnificence of the

shows, pageants, chariots, morning, noon, and night triumphs. In 1655,

the city pageants, after a discontinuance of about fourteen years, were

revived. Edmund Gayton, the author of the description for that year,

says, that “our metropolis for these planetary pageants, was as famous

and renowned in foreign nations, as for their faith, wealth, and

valour.” In the show of 1659, an European, an Egyptian, and a Persian,

were personated. On lord mayor’s day, 1671, the king, queen, and duke of

York, and most of the nobility being present, there were “sundry shows,

shapes, scenes, speeches and songs, in parts;” and the like, in 1672,

and 1673, when the king again “graced the triumphs.” The king, queen,

duke and duchess of York, prince Rupert, the duke of Monmouth, foreign

ambassadors, the chief nobility, and secretary of state, were at the

celebration of lord mayor’s day, in 1674, when there were “emblematical

figures, artful pieces of architecture, and rural dancing, with pieces

spoken on each pageant.”

The printed description of these processions are usually entitled

“_Triumphs_,” though they are more commonly called “_The London

Pageants_,” all of them are scarce, and some of such extreme rarity, as

to bear a price at the rate of two and three guineas a leaf. The

description of sir Patience Ward’s show, on the 29th of October, 1680,

composed by Thomas Jordan, is an interesting specimen of the setting out

and pageantry of this procession. The lord mayor being of the livery of

the merchant-tailors’ company, at seven o’clock in the morning,

liverymen of the first rank, appointed to conduct the business of the

day, assembled at merchant-tailors’ hall, to meet the masters, wardens,

and assistants, in their gowns, faced with _foyns_, (the skin of the

martin.) In the second rank, others in gowns faced with _budge_,

(lambs’-skin, with the wool dressed outwards,) and livery-hoods. In the

third rank, a number of foyns-bachelors, and forty budge-bachelors, both

attired in scarlet hoods and gowns. Sixty gentlemen-ushers, in velvet

coats and chains of gold, bearing white staves. Thirty more in plush and

buff, bearing colours and banners. Thirty-six of the king’s trumpeters,

with silver trumpets, headed by the serjeant-trumpeter, he wearing two

scarfs, one the lord mayor’s, and the other the company’s colours. The

king’s drum-major, followed by four of the king’s drums and fifes. Seven

other drums and two fifes, wearing vests of buff, with black breeches

and waste scarfs. Two city marshals on horseback, with attendants. The

foot-marshal, with a rich broad shoulder-scarf, to put them in rank and

file, attended by six others. The fence-master, with attendants, bearing

bright broadswords drawn. Poor pensioners, with gowns and caps, bearing

standards and banners. A troop of poor persons, in azure gowns and caps.

One hundred more with javelins and targets, bearing the arms of their

benefactors. Being all assembled, they are by the foot-marshal’s

judgment, arranged into six divisions, ranked out by two and two. _The

first division contains_ the ensigns of the company, followed by the

poor company of pensioners. Four drums and one fife. Pensioners in coats

as before described. Persons of worth, each bearing a standard or

banner. Four trumpets. Two merchant-tailors’ ensigns, bearing their

supporters and crest. Six gentlemen-ushers. The budge-bachelors,

marching in measured order. _Second division._ Six trumpets. Two

gentlemen, bearing the coats of arms of the city, and the

merchant-tailors’ company. Eight gentlemen, wearing gold chains. The

foyns-bachelors. _Third division._ Two gentlemen in velvet coats with

banners. Ten gentlemen-ushers in coats and chains of gold, as before

described. A large body of the livery in their gowns and livery-hoods,

followed by “all lord mayors in the _potential mood_.” In their rear

divers of the city trumpets. Two gentlemen bearing the arms of the city

and the lord mayor. Gentlemen-ushers. The court of assistants. Four

drums. Six trumpets. Three gallants, bearing the banners of the diadem.

The king’s, queen’s, and city’s ensigns, attended by six gentlemen as

pages. The masters and wardens of the merchant-tailors’ company. Thus

formed, they march from merchant-tailors’ hall to the lord mayor’s

house, where his lordship and the aldermen take horse, according to

their degree, and the whole body proceed in state to Guildhall. Being

met at the gate by the old lord mayor, and there attired with the gown,

fur hood, and scarf, and guarded by knights, esquires, and gentlemen,

they all march through King-street down to Three-Crane-wharf, where the

lord mayor and aldermen, discharging some of the attendants, take barge

at the west-end of the wharf; the court of assistants’ livery, and the

best of the gentlemen-ushers taking barge at the east-end. The rest of

the ushers, with the foyns and the budge-bachelors, remain ashore, with

others, to await the return of his lordship, who proceeds with several

city companies by water, and is rowed all along by the Strand to

Westminster, a pleasure boat with great guns aboard saluting him on the

way. At New Palace Stairs they disembark, and making a lane to the hall,

the lord mayor passes along to take the oath and go through the usual

ceremonies. These being completed, he makes a liberal donation to the

poor of Westminster, reembarks with all his retinue, and being rowed

back to Blackfriars Stairs, he lands there under beat of drum and a

salute of three volleys from the artillery company in their martial

ornaments, some in buff, with head-pieces, many being of massy silver.

From Blackfriars they march before the lord mayor and aldermen through

Cheapside to Guildhall. The pensioners and banners who went not to

Westminster, being set in order to march, the foot-marshal in the rear

of the artillery company, leads the way along by the channel up

Ludgate-hill, through Ludgate, into St. Paul’s Churchyard, and so into

Cheapside, where his lordship is entertained by the _first pageant_,

consisting of a large stage with the coat armour of the

merchant-tailors’ company, eminently erected, consisting of a large tent

royal, _gules_, fringed and richly garnished, _or_, lined, faced, and

doubled, _ermine_. This stage is winged or flanked by two other stages,

bearing two excellent figures of lively carved camels, the supporters to

the company’s coat. On the back of one camel, a black native Indian, in

a golden robe, a purple mantle fringed with gold, pearl pendants in his

ears, coronet of gold with feathers, and golden buskins laced with

scarlet ribbon, holds a golden bridle in his left, and a banner of the

company, representing _Treasure_ in his right hand. On the other camel,

a West Indian, in a robe of silver, scarlet mantle, diamonds pendant

from his ears, buskins of silver, laced with purple ribbons, a golden

crown feathered, holds a silver bridle in his left, and a banner of the

lord mayor, representing _Traffic_, in his right hand. On one of the

camel stages four figures sit on pedestals, one at each corner,

representing _Diligence_, _Industry_, _Ingenuity_, and _Success_; on

the other camel-stage, in like manner, _Mediocrity_, _Amity_, _Verity_,

_Variety_, all richly habited in silk or sarcenet, bear splendid emblems

and banners. The royal tent, or imperial pavilion, between these two

stages, is supported on one side by a minister of state representing

_Royalty_, and on the other side by another representing _Loyalty_; each

in rich robes of honor _gules_, wearing on their left arms shields

_azure_, with this motto in gold, _For the king and kingdom_, one

bearing a banner of the king’s, and the other one of the city’s banners.

On a high and eminent seat of throne-like ascension is seated

_Sovereignty_, in royal posture and alone, with black curled hair,

wearing an imperial crown, a robe of purple velvet, lined, faced, and

caped with ermine, a collar of SS with a George pendant; bearing in one

hand a golden globe, in the other a royal sceptre. On a seat beneath,

are _Principality_, _Nobility_, and _Honour_, all richly habited. On the

next seat, gradually descending beneath, are, 1. _Gentility_, shaped

like a scholar and soldier, holding in one hand, clad with a golden

gauntlet, a silver spear, in the other a book; 2. _Integrity_, wearing

an earl’s coronet for the court, a loose robe of scarlet-coloured silk

for the city, underneath a close coat of grass-green plush for the

county; 3. _Commonalty_, as a knight of the shire in parliamentary

robes. On the lowest seat, an _ancient English Hero_, with brown curling

hair, in ancient armour, as worn by chief commanders, the coat of mail

richly gilt, crimson and velvet scarf fringed with gold, a quiver of

arrows in a gold belt on one side, a sword at the other, buskins laced

with silver and gold, a silver helmet with red and white plume, in one

hand a large long bow, and a spear in the other. This personage,

representing _sir John Hawkwood_, a merchant-tailor of martial renown

under Edward III., when he conquered France, as soon as he perceives the

lord mayor prepared, with attention riseth up, and with a martial bow

exhibiteth a speech in verse of thirty-seven lines, in compliment to the

merchant-tailors and the lord mayor. His lordship testifying his

approbation, rideth with all his brethren through the throng of

spectators, till at Milk-street end, he is intercepted by _the second

pageant_, which is a chariot of ovation, or peaceful triumph, adorned

with delightful pieces of curious painting, and drawn by a golden lion

and a lamb. On the lion is mounted a young negro prince, richly habited,

according to the royal mode in India, holding a golden bridle, and in

the other hand St. George’s banner, representing _Power_. On the lamb is

mounted a white beautiful seraphim-like creature, with long bright

flaxen curled hair, and on it a golden coronet of cherubims’ heads and

wings, a carnation sarcenet robe, with a silver mantle and wings of

gold, silver, purple, and scarlet, reining the lamb by a silver bridle

in his left hand, and with his right bearing an angelical staff, charged

with a red cross, representing _Clemency_. In the chariot sitteth seven

persons, 1. _Concordia_, 2. _Unanimia_, 3. _Pacifica_, 4. _Consentania_,

5. _Melodea_, 6. _Benevolentia_, (whose habits, and those of other

characters already and hereafter mentioned, are not described here for

want of room) and 7. “_Harmonia_, a lady of great gravity, with

masculine aspect, wearing a lovely dark brown peruke, curiously curled,

on which is planted a crown imperial; she wears a robe of French green

velvet, pleasantly embroidered with gold, a crimson coloured silk and

silver mantle, and sitting majestically alone in front, upon the

approach and fixation of my lord mayor, improves the opportunity, riseth

up, and delivereth an oration.” This consists of forty-four lines in

verse, wherein she acquaints his lordship that the other characters are

her attributes, recommends unity, because division is the policy of the

pope and the jesuits, expresses her belief that if the lion and the lamb

fall out, she should run to ruin, descants upon magistrate-like virtues,

and in the end tells his lordship,--

You have done all things fair, no action foul;

Your sherevalry gave relish of good rule,

Nor need they doubt your mayoralty, therefore,

Begging your pardon, I shall say no more.

This speech being concluded, his lordship exhibiting a gracious aspect

of favourable acceptation, advanceth further towards Guildhall, but is

civilly obstructed by another scene, and in regard, his lordship is a

merchant, and his company merchant-tailors, the _Third Triumphal Scene,

or Pageant_, is a ship called the _Patience_, with masts and sails,

fully rigged and manned, the _captain_ whereof addresseth to my lord a

speech beginning,--

What cheer, my lord? I am return’d from sea,

To amplifie your day of Jubilee,

In this tried vessel, &c.

His lordship having surveyed the ship, and the trumpets sounding, he

continueth his determined course toward Guildhall, but by the way is

once more obstructed by another scene, called the _Palace of Pleasure_,

which is a triumphal ionic arch of excellent structure, where, in

distinct and perspicuous situations, sitteth nine beautiful and pleasant

ladies, whose names, natures, and ornaments are consentaneous, 1.

_Jollity_, 2. _Delight_, 3. _Fancy_, 4. _Felicity_, 5. _Wit_, 6.

_Invention_, 7. _Tumult_, 8. _Slaughter_, 9. _Gladness_; all of them

properly enrobed and adorned; and to augment their delight, there are

several persons properly habited, playing on sundry loud instruments of

music, one of which, with a voice as loud and as tunable as a treble

hautboy, chanteth out _a Ditty in commendation of the Merchant-tailors’

Trade_, commencing thus,

Of all the professions that ever were nam’d

The Taylers though slighted, is much to be fam’d:

For various invention and antiquity,

No trade with the _Taylers_ compared may be:

For warmth and distinction and fashion he doth

Provide for both sexes with silk, stuff, and cloth:

Then do not disdain him or slight him, or flout him,

Since (if well consider’d) you can’t live without him.

But let all due praises (that can be) be made

To honour and dignifie the _Taylers_ trade.

When Adam and Eve out of Eden were hurl’d,

They were at that time king and queen of the world:

Yet this royal couple were forced to play

The _Taylers_, and put themselves in green array;

For modesty and for necessity’s sake

They had figs for the belly, and leaves for the back

And afterward clothing of sheep-skins they made

Then judge if a _Tayler_ was not the first trade,

The oldest profession; and they are but railers,

Who scoff and deride men that be _Merchant-Taylers_.

This song, containing five more verses, being ended, the foot-marshal

places the assistants, livery, and the companies on both sides of

King’s-street, and the pensioners with their targets hung on the tops of

the javelins; in the rear of them the ensign-bearers; drums and fifes in

front; he then hastens the foins and budge-bachelors, together with the

gentlemen ushers, to Guildhall, where his lordship is again saluted by

the artillerymen with three volleys more, which concludes their duty.

His land attendants pass through the gallery or lane so made into

Guildhall; after which the company repairs to dinner in the hall, and

the several silk-works and triumphs are likewise conveyed into

Blackwell-hall; and the officers aforesaid, and the children that sit in

the pageants, there refresh themselves until his lordship hath dined. At

the dinner in Guildhall, his lordship and the guests being all seated,

the city music begin to touch their instruments with very artful

fingers. Their ears being as well feasted as their palates, and a

concert lesson or two succeeding, “a sober person with a good voice,

grave humour, and audible utterance, proper to the condition of the

times,” sings a song called _The Protestants’ Exhortation_, the burden

whereof is, _Love one another_, and the subject against the catholics.

The song being ended, the musicians play divers new airs, which having

done, three or four “habit themselves according to the humour of the

song,” and one of them chanteth forth The _Plotting Papist’s Litany_, in

ten stanzas, the first of which ends with

Joyntly then wee ’l agree,

To sing a Litany,

And let the burden be,

_Ora pro nobis_.

In the year 1688, the second mayoralty of sir Thomas Pilkington, who

being of the skinners’ company, a pageant in honour of their occupation,

consisted of “a spacious wilderness, haunted and inhabited with all

manner of wild beasts and birds of various shapes and colours, even to

beasts of prey, as wolves, bears, panthers, leopards, sables, and

beavers; likewise dogs, cats, foxes, and rabbits, which tossed up now

and then into a balcony fell oft upon the _company’s_ heads, and by them

tossed again into the crowd, afforded great diversion; melodious harmony

likewise allayed the fury of the wild beasts, who were continually

moving, dancing, curvetting, and tumbling to the music.”

On the alteration of the style, the swearing in of the lord mayor and

the accompanying show, which had been on the 29th of October, was

changed to the 9th of November. The speeches in the pageants were

usually composed by the city poet, an officer of the corporation, with

an annual salary, who provided a printed description for the members of

the corporation before the day. Settle, the last city poet, wrote the

last pamphlet intended to describe a lord mayor’s show; it was for sir

Charles Duncombe’s, in 1708, but the prince of Denmark’s death the day

before, prevented the exhibition. The last lord mayor who rode on

horseback at his mayoralty was sir Gilbert Heathcote in the reign of

queen Anne.

It will be remarked after this perusal, that the modern exhibitions have

no pretension to vie with the grandeur of the old “London triumphs.” In

1760, the court of common council recommended pageants to be exhibited

for the entertainment of their majesties on lord mayor’s day. Such

revivals are inexpedient, yet probably some means might be devised for

improving the appearance of the present procession, without further

expenditure from the city funds, or interfering with the public

appropriation of the allowance for the support of the civic dignity. All

that remains of the lord mayor’s show, to remind the curiously informed

of its ancient character, is in the first part of the procession,

wherein the poor men of the company to which the lord mayor belongs, or

persons hired to represent them, are habited in long gowns and close

caps of the company’s colour, and bear painted shields on their arms,

but without javelins. So many of these head the show, as there are years

in the lord mayor’s age. Their obsolete costume and hobbling walk are

sport for the unsedate, who, from imperfect tradition, year after year,

are accustomed to call them “old bachelors”--tongues less polite call

them “_old fogeys_.” The numerous band of gentlemen-ushers in velvet

coats, wearing chains of gold and bearing white staves, is reduced to

half-a-dozen full-dressed footmen, carrying umbrellas in their hands.

The antiquarian reminiscences occasioned by the throwing of substances

that stone-eaters alone would covet, from the tops of the houses, can

arise no more; and even the giants in Guildhall are elevated upon

octagon stone columns, to watch and ward the great west window, in no

other than a gigantic capacity: their proper situation they were

displaced from some few years ago, owing, it is presumed, to lack of

information in the civic authorities, that figures of giants anciently

belonged to Guildhall, and that their _corporate_ station was at the

Guildhall door. In their present station, they are as much out of place

as a church weathercock would be if it were removed from the steeple,

and put on the sounding board of the pulpit.

The Every-day Book and Table Book, v. 1 (of 3) or Everlasting Calendar of Popular Amusements, Sports, Pastimes, Ceremonies, Manners, Customs and Events, Incident to Each of the Three Hundred and Sixty-five Days, in past and Present Times; Forming a Complete History of the Year, Month, and Seasons, and a Perpetual Key to the Almanac · 第 832 / 982 题