Let us consider the religious side of London in the first half of the seventeenth century. It was not so much the abolition of the Mass and all that went with it, not so much the Smithfield fires and all that they meant, that changed the mind of London, but the acquisition of the Bible and the continual delight which the people found in reading it, in hearing it read, in hearing it expounded, and in making out for themselves the meaning of passages and the foundations of doctrine. The Bible gave them histories more entrancing than any that had ever been presented to them. They read of Abraham and of Jacob, of Joshua, of the Strong Man, of the rash King’s vow, of Saul and David, of Hezekiah, of Elijah and the prophets of Baal. They read the words of the Prophets and applied them to the events and the kings and statesmen of their own time; if they longed to praise their God, the Psalms of David gave them words; if they were sad they found consolation in those poems; for the conduct of life there was the Book of Proverbs; for example, under every possible circumstance was a gallery of portraits, the like of which could nowhere else be found. In the Gospel they read of a Christ whose image rose always higher than they could reach; and in the Epistles they gathered materials for the doctrines of a hundred sects. With this book in their hands, containing history, poetry, morals, example, admonition, the way of eternal life and, scattered about, the materials for the Creed or Articles of Faith, without which it seemed impossible to live, the old authority was gone, never to return so long as that book remained in the hands and sank into the minds of the people.

For forty years and more before the Stuarts came, the book had been read and read again and again by every one; children had read it at school; they had been catechised in it; they had been taught that it contained in itself the whole of religion, so that what had been added since was superfluous or superstitious.

The attitude of the people towards Catholicism at the beginning of the seventeenth century was that of hatred far beyond the hatred of fifty years before, because it was intensified by the terror of the Papacy, which seemed recovering its old ground and quickly seizing on one country after another. It seemed to those that could look beyond the sea that in a short time there would be another, and a far more dangerous attempt than that of the Spanish Armada, upon the religion and the liberties of the country. The horrors of Catholic victory were impressed upon them by the spectacle of the Huguenot fugitives and the unfortunate Palatines, by stories of the Spanish Inquisition and its ruthless tortures. The preachers—those “lecturers”—who were added to the parish churches, fed this feeling of hatred and of terror. What, then, was the indignation, what was the dismay, when the citizens of London found the ecclesiastical authorities separating themselves more and more from the reformed churches of Germany and Switzerland, and, as they thought, advancing with no uncertain steps towards a reconciliation with Rome!

The early years of the seventeenth century saw the Puritan at his best. That he should prefer and hold a narrow creed was inevitable; there was no creed or sect possible which was not narrow. In this respect the Puritan was in no way below the Catholic, the Episcopalian, the Presbyterian, or the Brownist, or the Fifth Monarchy man, or any other sectarian. He was not, however, necessarily a gloomy and austere person. He might be a man of many accomplishments; Colonel Hutchinson fenced, danced, and played the viol. But the Puritan was, above all, conscious of his own individual responsibility. Between himself and his God he wanted no priest; he would not acknowledge that there was for any man the need of a priest, or for any priest the possession of supernatural power; he wanted no ceremonies; he remembered that symbolism, as all history proclaims aloud, leads infallibly to the worship of the symbol. He would not allow so simple a thing as the sign of the cross in baptism or the ring in marriage. The key-note of Puritanism, the thing which made it strong and glorified it in the persons of the best and noblest spirits, as Milton and Hutchinson, was that the man was master of himself. Consider, therefore, the wrath and the dismay when such a man saw himself, or thought himself deprived of his liberty of thought, compelled to conformity with what he held to be superstitions, dragged unwillingly and in chains along the road to Rome.

Among the lower ranks, the shopkeepers and the craftsmen of London, the same spirit prevailed; but it led to extravagances. The Bible was kept open on every counter; men discussed texts in every tavern; the barbers quoted Paul while they shaved their customers. A certain description of a citizen’s wife suggests the thought and discourse of a London household of this time. “She was very loving and obedient to her parents, kind to her husband, tender-hearted to her children, loving all who were godly, much misliking the wicked and profane; ... very ripe and perfect in all stories of the Bible; likewise in all stories of Martyrs.” The martyrs were the Marian martyrs; this good woman knew them all; there would be more martyrs, she knew full well, if the Catholics came back. And she knew, and delighted in, all the stories of the Bible; she was ripe in them and perfect in them. If the Catholics came back, her Bible would be taken from her. Consider the dismay of this poor woman when she was told that Laud was doing all he could to bring them back!

Green points out, very forcibly and truly, how the claims of despotic authority, of crown and church, jarred with all that was noblest in the temper of the time. “These were everywhere reaching forward to the conception of law. Bacon sought the law in material nature; Hooper asserted the rule of law over the spiritual world. The temper of the Puritan was eminently a temper of law. The diligence with which he searched the Scriptures sprang from his earnestness to discover a Divine Will, which, in all things, great or small, he might implicitly obey. But this implicit obedience was reserved for the Divine Will alone: for human ordinances derived their strength only from their correspondence with the revealed law by God.” Against such a temper, with such a stubborn people, fully persuaded that their eternal welfare depended upon their adherence to their own convictions, Charles and Laud were bound to fail.

It must be admitted that the better type of Puritan was apt to degenerate and to give way to a narrower and a stricter school. There appeared the Puritan who pulled down and cut in pieces the Maypoles—those of St. Andrew Undershaft, and of Basing Lane, for example. Also there appeared the Puritan who put down games and sports:—

There appeared also the Puritan who objected to the study of Latin and Greek as encouraging idolatry and pagan superstition. And the Puritan who would have no Christmas festivities, who put down the custom of plum porridge, and changed the name of Christmas pie to mince-pie, which it is still called. The gloomy face of the Puritan belongs to later developments, as do the texts worn on the sleeve, the lank hair, and the hat without a band.

With such a temper in the people, against such leaders, Charles and Laud began their campaign for the overthrow of civil and religious liberty. It is easy to exclaim against a short-sighted policy, and against the blindness of those who could not observe the signs of the times. In the absence of newspapers and public meetings, how was a statesman to understand the signs of the times? The King, like his father, had not been brought up in the knowledge of English liberties and their history. To this ignorance a great deal of the blundering, both of James and of Charles, may be attributed. Laud, for his part, was an ecclesiastic through and through. It was not for him to seek out the opinions of the unlearned or of the dissentient. It was his business to enforce the ecclesiastical law as he found it, and as he designed to make it.

The number of London clergy afterwards ejected sufficiently proves the support which he obtained from that class. It is, indeed, always safe to expect support from the clergy whenever steps are taken to magnify the ecclesiastical office or to advance the sacerdotal pretensions. As it is in our time, so it was in the days of Laud.

The Archbishop ordered conformity with the ceremonies of the Prayer Book. The surplice was enforced; the sign of the Cross in Baptism was continued; the ring in marriage remained in use; kneeling, and not sitting, at the administration of the Holy Communion became obligatory. The Geneva Bible, the old favourite of the people, with its short and pithy notes, was prohibited; those ministers who refused to conform were ejected; the lectures, which in London had been mostly on the Puritan side, were suppressed.

It became evident fifteen years later that the intolerance of Laud was not so much a subject of complaint as the enforcement of ritual and teaching abhorrent to the mind of Puritan, Presbyterian, and Independent. In 1644 it was proved that intolerance belonged equally to all sects. The possibility of allowing people differing in creeds to live in peace was not as yet admitted; nor would it be admitted until all alike, Anglican, Presbyterian, Independent, Quaker, Anabaptist, Socinian, Roman Catholic, had each and all in turn felt and realised that religion would mean continuous persecution, ejection, rebellion, and suffering, unless a modus vivendi were arrived at.

Meantime those who would be intolerant in their turn, but as yet could not, found the situation gloomy. They looked across the Atlantic and began to emigrate by thousands; not, as is too often asserted, to find across the ocean that freedom which they could not find here, but to find the power of living under the creed that they accepted, and of imposing it upon all who would live among them.

“The Land,” says Clarendon, “was full of pride and mutiny.” It seemed, at one time, as if the best blood of the country was going across the ocean. Hundreds of the clergy gave up their houses and went into poverty because they would not turn a table into an altar, and because they refused to take the least step which pointed in the direction of Rome.

And persecution and public punishment of men like Leighton and Prynne only had the effect of bringing the discontent of the people to the point of exasperation.

In the year 1633 appeared Prynne’s Histrio Mastix, a violent attack on play-acting, dancing, and masques. In all these things the Queen took great delight. Therefore the work was supposed to be directed against her. A brutal sentence was inflicted upon Prynne, and was duly carried out, and after pillory, branding on the forehead, having his nose slit and his ears cut off, the wretched man was condemned to be disbarred, to be deprived of his University degree, and to be imprisoned for life.

The freedom of the press was of course attacked. Laud assumed a censorship over all new books and over the sale or circulation of old books. Among other books prohibited were Foxe’s Book of Martyrs and Bishop Jewel’s Works. Prynne, and with him Dr. Bastwick, a physician, and Henry Burton, a divine, all three being prisoners in the Tower, were prosecuted in the Star Chamber for writing libellous and schismatical books. They were sentenced to pay £5000 each; to stand in pillory; to lose their ears, or, in Prynne’s case, to lose what was left of his ears; to be branded and to be imprisoned in Launceston, Lancaster, and Carnarvon. An immense multitude gathered to see the sentence carried out; they “cried and howled terribly”; they followed the prisoners with shouts of good wishes and groans for their persecutors; they threw money into the coach in which Burton’s wife was sitting. Laud complained afterwards that the prisoners were suffered to speak to the people, and that notes were taken of their speeches and circulated in the City. At Chester, on his way to Carnarvon, Prynne was entertained by the Sheriff and a number of gentlemen, who refreshed him with a good dinner, and gave him tapestry and carpets for his cell.

Let us turn to the other side of religious opinion. If the Bible, and especially the Old Testament, furnished the popular side with arguments in support of every doctrine they professed, the same authority was called in for the maintenance and defence of the High Church and Loyalist party. Laud and his friends were by no means without Scriptural defence. For instance, the most rigid rule of conduct advanced by the divines of Charles the Second’s reign was that of passive obedience, together with the corollary that resistance to the King’s authority was a mortal sin. This doctrine seems to us absurd, we who inherit the training of two hundred years in the belief that all power is conferred by the people and may be withdrawn by the people. But, in fact, the doctrine was perfectly logical if one admitted that the English monarchy was an Oriental despotism such as that of Solomon or any other Eastern king. I have before me a sermon preached on February 6, 1668, in Ripon Cathedral, by the Dean, in which the doctrine is boldly advanced and upheld. The text is from 1 Kings viii. 66, and relates how, after the great and solemn function of the dedication with the blood of 22,000 oxen and 120,000 sheep—surely there is here a superfluity of ciphers—and after a great feast, the people went away blessing the King. One would think this a weak text for the support of such a doctrine, but the learned Dean bolsters it up with an abundance of instances and texts. Thus “St. Paul says that Kings are, not by God’s sufferance but by his ordinance, and therefore, even supposing them never so bad, they are not to be resisted. You may take up the Buckles of Patience; but you must not take up Arms against them; for Rebellion is such rank Poison to the Soul, that the least Scruple of it is Damnable, the very intention of it in the Heart is Mortal.”

In our passive obedience we may, if times are bad, console ourselves with the imitation of “Jeremiah in Prison; Daniel in the Lion’s Den; Amos struck through the Temples; Zachariah murdered between the Porch and the Altar; our Blessed Saviour living under Herod and Tiberius and crucified under Pontius Pilate; His Disciples under Caligula, Claudius, Nero, and Domitian; Christian Bishops, under Heathen Persecutors; none of whom ever reviled their Princes or resisted them.” One might object that in these cases resistance would have been useless. But he goes on, “Who questioned Saul for slaying the Priests and revolting to Idolatry? Who questioned Joram a Parricide and murderer of his nobles? Or Joash for his Idolatry and slaying the High Priest? Did the Sanhedrim do it? Who questioned Theodosius for murdering six Thousand innocent Persons? Who questioned Constance, or Valeros, or Julian the Apostate?” Again, one objects the people had not the power to question. Again, “Mephibosheth said of David, ‘My Lord the King is an Angel of God. Do therefore what is good in thine eyes.’”

“Did not God ordain Adam to rule over his wife without giving her or her children any commission to limit his power? What was given to him in his Person was also given to his Posterity; and the Paternal Government continued Monarchical from him to the Flood, and after that to the Confusion of Babel when Kingdoms were first erected and planted over the face of the Earth? And so what right or Title, the People can have ... to restrain the supremacy which was as untouched in Adam as any act of his will (it being due to the Supreme Fatherhood) or from what time it commenced, the Scripture nowhere tells us. Where is the People’s charter extant in Nature or in Scripture, for invading the Rights of the Crown? Or what authority can they have from either to introduce their Devices of presiding over him whom God and Nature hath set over them?”

This was the kind of preaching which was heard from a hundred pulpits in the City of London as well as in country churches and cathedrals during the whole reign of Charles II. and the beginning of his successor’s short period of power. There can be no doubt that it persuaded many, that the preachers themselves were in earnest, and that there were few indeed among the congregation who were able to point to the weakness of a doctrine which rested on an absurdity so great as the parallel between the King of a free people whose liberties had slowly developed from prehistoric customs and an Oriental despotism.

Let us note one or two points of custom and popular belief and practice which should be taken into account when we consider the religious spirit of the time.

Fasting, for instance, was still practised and enjoined by the Church, as it is to this day. The Puritans, while they rebelled against the observance of days, maintained the duty of occasional fast days. The High Church party insisted vehemently on the duty of fasting, and the Restoration brought back the usage of fasting as part of the Church discipline. By this time, however, the poorer classes had lost the habit of eating fish only on Fridays and in Lent, and it was impossible to enforce the practice.

Other customs and beliefs, survivals of the old faith, remained. Sanctuary, for example, although the ancient privileges had been abolished, although a criminal could no longer take refuge in a church, still continued under another form (see p. 170). That is to say, certain places remained where Sheriffs’ officers could not venture, where a writ could not be served, and where a rogue could not be arrested. Among these places were the streets on the site of Whitefriars: Ram Alley, Salisbury Court, Mitre Court, the Precinct of the Savoy, Fulwood’s Rents in Holborn, and on the other side of the river, Deadman’s Place, the Mint, and Montagu Close. These pretended privileges were not abolished by law until the year 1697. Some of the places, in spite of this abolition, preserved their immunity for a time by the terror of their lawlessness and violence. The “humours” of Alsatia have been immortalised by Scott, but it must be remembered that there were many other places besides Whitefriars at that time equally entitled to the privileges of sanctuary.

The abolition of Episcopacy was followed by a persecution of those of the clergy who were known to sympathise with the Anglican forms. They were accused of immorality or malignancy; they were haled before the House, which deprived them of their livings and gave them to persons of better principles. Of the sufferings of the London clergy, Walker’s well-known work gives a full account. He sums up as follows:—

“Thus were about One Hundred and Ten of the London Clergy turned out of their Livings (nor do I know whether the List be yet compleat), above Forty of which were Doctors of Divinity, and most of them Plunder’d of their Goods, and their Wives and Children turned out of Doors. About twenty were imprisoned in London, and in the Ships, and in the several Jayls and Castles in the Country; upward of that Number fled to prevent the like Imprisonment. About Twenty Two died soon after in remote Parts, in Prisons, and with Grief; and about Forty Churches lay void, having no constant Minister in them.

They were most, if not all, of them turned out in the Years 1642 and 1643. Some few more immediately by the House of Commons; but most of them by the Committee of Religion, and that of Plunder’d Ministers, and chiefly, as I conceive, by the latter: The Resolutions of which Committee were in the beginning, if I mistake not, mostly reported to the House: But when that Godly Work increas’d upon their hands, a Power was lodg’d in the Committee, as I take it, which made their Resolutions Final. I must here add that a Learned and Eminent Person who liv’d through, and suffer’d under those Times, gives this Character of the then London Clergy in general: ‘That for a more Pious, Learn’d, and Laborious Ministry, no People ever Enjoy’d it, even their enemies themselves being Judges’” (John Walker, Account of the Sufferings of the Clergy, 1714, p. 180).

For a list of the London clergy ejected see Appendix II.

In June 1643 a council or company of one hundred and twenty divines, called “Pious, godly, and judicious,” was summoned to meet at Westminster to consider the new form of national church. With them were joined thirty laymen, namely, ten Lords and twenty Commoners. The Houses laid down rules for the form of the meetings and the subject of the debates. Among the hundred and twenty was a certain proportion of Episcopalians, who, however, refused to attend; the majority were Presbyterians, anxious to establish the discipline and doctrine of the foreign reformed churches; but there was also among them a small body of Independents. The difference between the two parties was very important. The former desired a church resembling that of the old Established Church in a gradation of spiritual authorities in presbyteries, classes, synods, and assemblies, giving to these bodies the power of censure, punishment, deprivation, and excommunication. The latter held that every congregation stood by itself, that there should be no central authority, and that churches should be left free to differ in doctrine.

The Council were unanimous in minor points; they removed organs; they prohibited the surplice and the cope; they destroyed monuments of idolatry, but they could not agree as to church government. Finally, they agreed in the production of a Directory of public worship, which introduced order into the service and regulated the administration of the sacraments, the ceremony of marriage, the visitation of the sick, and the burial of the dead.

On Friday, January 3, 1645, the Ordinance for the abolition of the Book of Common Prayer, and for the establishment in its place of a new Directory for the public worship of God, was passed:—

“In the Preamble it is set forth that the ‘Lords and Commons assembled in Parliament, taking into serious consideration the manifold inconveniences that have arisen by the Book of Common-Prayer in this Kingdome, and resolving according to their Covenant to reforme Religion according to the Word of God and the example of the best Reformed Churches, have consulted with the Reverend, Pious and Learned Divines, called together to that purpose; And doe Judge it necessary that the said Book of Common-Prayer be abolished, and the Directory for the Publike Worship of God herein after mentioned, bee established and observed in all the Churches within this Kingdome.”

“And that the Directory for publike Worship herein set forth shall bee henceforth used, perused, and observed according to the true intent and meaning of this Ordinance, in all Exercises of the Publike Worship of God, in every Congregation, Church, Chappell, and place of Publike Worship within this Kingdome of England, and Dominion of Wales; Which Directory for the Publike Worship of God, with the Preface thereof followeth” (The Directory, p. 4).

The same preamble ordered that in every church there should be kept a register for the names of all who were baptized, married, or buried in the churchyard.

The Directory may be condensed as follows:—

1. Orderly behaviour in Church without salutations, greetings, or whispering.

2. Commencement with Prayer.

“In all reverence and Humility acknowledging the incomprehensible Greatnesse and Majesty of the Lord (in whose presence they doe then in a speciall manner appeare) and their owne vilenesse to approach so neare him; with their utter inability of themselves, to so great a work: And humbly beseeching him for pardon, Assistance, and Acceptance in the whole service then to be performed; and for a Blessing on that particular portion of his Word then to be read: and all, in the Name and Mediation of the Lord Jesus Christ.”

3. After prayer reading of the scriptures; the length and the portion chosen to be left to the Minister, with a recommendation to read one chapter of the Old and one of the New at every meeting.

4. Expounding of the Scripture read to be performed after the reading.

5. After the Reading, Public Prayer, the general heads of which are set forth at length.

6. The Sermon.

Here follow instructions for the preacher.

7. After the sermon, another prayer.

8. The Prayer ended, let a Psalm be sung, if with conveniency it may be done.

The rite of baptism is ordered; one notes that the sign of the Cross is omitted.

The celebration of the Lord’s Supper is to take place after the sermon and psalm. The communicants are to sit round a table covered with a white cloth. Prayer is to be offered, in which it is to be specially noted that the bread and wine remain bread and wine, but that by faith the body and blood of Christ are taken by the communicant.

The “Sanctification of the Lord’s Day” assumes that it is the Sabbath, and orders that no unnecessary work be carried on, and that the same not spent in church is to be devoted to reading, meditation, and catechising.

The marriage service is very short. There is to be a prayer with a declaration of Scripture on the subject, after which the man and the woman are to take hands and take each other for wife and husband:—

“Concerning the Burial of the Dead,” the Directory says, “and because the customes of kneeling down, and praying by, or towards the dead Corps, and other such usages, in the place where it lies, before it be carried to Buriall, are Superstitious: and for that, praying, reading, and singing both in going to, and at the Grave, have been grosly abused, are no way beneficiall to the dead, and have proved many ways hurtfull to the living; therefore let all such things be laid aside.”

On days of fasting there is to be total abstinence from all kinds of food and from all kinds of work.

As for singing of Psalms:—

“The voice is to be tunably and gravely ordered: but the chief care must be, to sing with understanding, and with Grace in the heart, making melody unto the Lord.”

“That the whole Congregation may joyne herein, every one that can read is to have a Psalme book, and all others not disabled by age, or otherwise, are to be exhorted to learn to read. But for the present, where many in the Congregation cannot read, it is convenient that the Minister, or some other fit person appointed by him and the other Ruling Officers, doe read the Psalme, line by line, before the singing thereof” (Directory, p. 43).

On the 23rd of August following, another ordinance was passed for the taking away of the Book of Common Prayer from all churches and chapels in the kingdom. It was also ordered that the knights and burgesses of the counties should send copies of the Directory, bound in leather, to the constables and other officers of every parish in the kingdom, and that within one week after receiving the books, the constables should hand the books to the minister of the parish.

Pains and penalties for disobedience to these orders conclude the Ordinance.

There are abundant materials for showing the violence of the passions excited in London by the religious controversy of the time. We see the soldiers on guard at Lambeth breaking into the church in time of service, tearing the Prayer Book to pieces, stripping the clergyman of his surplice, and desecrating the altar, until the Thames watermen come to the assistance of the people and there is a fight in the body of the church. We see a party of horse riding through the streets, four of them attired in surplices, tearing the Book of Common Prayer in pieces, leaf by leaf, with gestures unseemly. We find the clergy accused of the most infamous crimes—“common drunkenness, looseness of life, adultery,” and worse. We find some of the people in church sitting with their hats on, and some with their hats off, and riots in consequence. We hear of fanatics preaching the wildest doctrines and forming the most wonderful sects. There is neither tolerance, nor charity, nor patience. There is no authority; there is no respect for learning; every one, in every station, interprets Scripture in blind confidence that he is fully equal to the task of framing a bran-new constitution for a bran-new sect. And with it all, a power almost pathetic, of sitting out the longest sermons. On one occasion two ministers, one after the other, engaged the attention of the House of Commons for seven long hours. The people presently grew weary of the incessant wranglings over doctrine; sane persons began to understand that the task of making ignorant men and women agree in matters of creed was hopeless; it became understood that divergence of opinion would be no more tolerated by Independents than it was by Presbyterians; at this point of weariness it was extremely fortunate for the country that the reaction restored them to the Church of England instead of the Church of Rome. It was wonderful how the great mass of the people sank back contentedly into their old form of faith, relieved to find at last that they might leave the dogmas of religion to divines and scholars and be free themselves to illustrate in their private lives the virtues of religion by the exercise of faith, hope, and charity, which, for twenty years and more, seemed to have deserted the City of London.

A single example of the religious dissensions of the time will doubtless stand for many more. I have before me a pamphlet written by the Rev. J. Dodd, which originally appeared in the English Historical Review (Spottiswoode, 1895), on the troubles of St. Botolph, Aldgate, during this period. To quote Mr. Dodd’s own words, “it is a fairly complete picture of the state of discord, and probably had many a parallel throughout England.”

In 1642 the then Vicar, a follower of Laud, one Thomas Swadlin, was deprived of his living and sent to Newgate. After his departure the living was held by a succession of obscure preachers, probably of Puritanic views, till 1654, when Laurence Wise, the last of them, either died or resigned. In August of that year, by popular election, one John Mackarness, a clergyman in Anglican orders, was appointed. Cromwell, however, intervened, and a Presbyterian, Zachary Crofton, was appointed in his place. Crofton was an Irishman who had been in arms against the King; he was then pastor, first of Newcastle-under-Lyne, next of Winbury, in Cheshire. He refused to take the oath to the Government of 1649 “without King or House of Lords,” and lost his living. In London he obtained the church of St. James’s, Garlickhithe. Here he made himself known as a hot-headed controversialist, and by no means a friend of Cromwell, who, however, nominated him to St. Botolph’s.

Crofton went, therefore, to St. Botolph’s, and found a congenial field for a fighting man. He was himself a Presbyterian; the afternoon lecturer was one John Simpson, who had also, like Crofton, been in the Army, and was now an Independent and an Anabaptist. Crofton alienated some of the former sect by attempting to revive “disception” in his church—that is to say, he forbade unworthy persons from approaching the Lord’s Table. He enraged the Anabaptists by the importance which he attached to the baptism of infants. He also desired to catechise the children, and printed a short catechism for them. Simpson held that you might as well buy rattles or hobby horses for children as catechisms. Crofton began by refusing to recognise Simpson as afternoon lecturer; the parishioners petitioned Cromwell to allow him one lecture in the church on the Lord’s Day and one in the week. This was granted, and Crofton had to give way.

Then occurred a charge which Crofton always denied, but which was brought up against him continually. A certain maid-servant accused him of chastising her with a rod in an improper manner. Afterwards she swore that she had been bribed to bring the accusation.

In 1657 Crofton sent a letter to John Simpson; he was going to take possession of his own pulpit, and Simpson might commence an action as soon as he pleased. Simpson, however, complained to the Council of State, and an order was granted him to preach in the afternoon. Accordingly on Sunday, Crofton being in the pulpit and surrounded by his friends, John Simpson and his party entered the church and presented the order. It was addressed to Grafton, not Crofton. “This order is not for me,” said the Vicar; whereupon the Simpson party retired, beaten for once. The Council of State again interfered and Crofton had to submit. He took revenge by charging Simpson’s three principal friends with brawling in church. They were acquitted; he made a public protest in the church. John Simpson then began to preach against infant baptism; Crofton charged him with heresy and demanded of him a defence of his position. Simpson preserved silence. But he took other steps. He charged Crofton with being a declared enemy to the Government and with preaching sedition and insurrection. Crofton refused to acknowledge the jurisdiction of the Court. He published a pamphlet, however, in which he defended himself and told a pretty story of parish dissensions and persecutions. After this came the whirlwind. Cromwell died. Crofton went into the country just before the Cheshire rising, and was charged with preaching to the rebels; from this he cleared himself. He then threw himself into the politics of the time, strongly advocating a free Parliament; he preached at St. Peter’s, Cornhill, for the restoration of Charles the Second; meantime John Simpson had vanished and the magnanimous Crofton preached a sermon on peace. He lost his church at the Restoration; he was consigned to the Tower for a twelvemonth; he went down into Cheshire and turned cheese-factor; he was again arrested for sowing sedition; he went back to London and started a grocer’s shop; under the pressure of the Five Mile Act he left London and took a farm at Little Barford in Bedfordshire; after the Plague he returned to London and set up a school in Aldgate; it was here that he preached a course of sermons in St. James’s, Duke’s Place, which he afterwards published under the title of “The Saints’ Care for Church Communion.” He died just before Christmas 1672, and his body lies buried in the churchyard of his old parish.

This story illustrates the feverish unrest of the time: the parish divided into furious parties; one clergyman preaching infant baptism; the other preaching that it was as idle to give the child a catechism as a rattle; calumniations and recriminations of the vilest kind; the Restoration; ejections; an attempt to earn a living by making cheese, by farming, by keeping a shop, by keeping a school. A strange story of a strange time!

As a part of the religious aspect of the City one must not omit the desecration of St. Paul’s, which, during the twenty years 1640–1660, was carried out in a manner so resolute and thorough as to show the deliberate intention of giving the citizens, who still gloried in their venerable Cathedral, a lesson in the revolution of religious thought.

The Cathedral, as Dean Milman says, was, under the Puritans, a vast useless pile, the lair of old superstition and idolatry. It would have been pulled down but for the trouble and the expense. The Parliament, however, did what they could to procure its destruction; there was a sum of £17,000 lying in the chambers of the City which remained out of the subscriptions for repairing the church. This was seized. There had also been erected round the tower a scaffolding of wood which was taken down and sold for £174, the whole being given to Colonel Jefferson’s regiment for arrears of pay. When the scaffolding was taken away, part of the roof of the south transept fell in. Whereupon the Mayor and Aldermen represented the necessity of getting more water into the City, and begged the lead that covered the roof towards the pipes for carrying the water.

In 1642 the removal of crucifixes and other superstitious objects was ordered. In the same year all the copes belonging to the Cathedral were burned. In 1645 the silver plate of St. Paul’s was sold, and the money spent in providing artillery.

The Cathedral, according to the story, was offered by Cromwell to the Jews, who refused to buy it. The east end was walled off for the congregation of the lecturer, Cornelius Burgess. Inigo’s portico was let out in small shops to sempstresses and hucksters, with chambers above and stairs leading to them. The body of the church became a cavalry barrack and stable. Paul’s Cross was pulled down.

The intolerance of the time may be illustrated by a hundred stories. Take, for instance, the punishment of the unfortunate James Naylor.

On the 18th day of December 1656 a man stood in pillory for two hours at the Old Palace Yard, Westminster. The case attracted some attention because the man was a crack-brained enthusiast, originally in the Society of Friends, who had been parading on horseback accompanied by three women and one or two men singing, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God of Hosts.” These people also called him the Everlasting Son of Righteousness, the Prince of Peace, the Fairest of Ten Thousand. The whole company were arrested and sent to London, where Parliament considered the case of the man, whose name was James Naylor.

In accordance with their sentence, he was first placed in pillory at Westminster for two hours; he was then taken down, tied to the cart’s tail, and whipped by the hangman all the way to the Old Exchange in the City. He received three hundred and ten strokes, and should have received one more, “there being three hundred and eleven kennels”—I know not what this means. By this time he was in a most pitiful condition, as may be imagined. According to the sentence, he should have stood in pillory for two hours more, and then have had his tongue bored with a red-hot iron, but he could no longer stand. Therefore he was respited for a week. At the end of that time, although many people petitioned for his pardon, the other part of the sentence was most cruelly inflicted. This was not all. As soon as he recovered he was sent on to Bristol, where he was flogged through the town and laid in prison.

The case of James Naylor happened in the Commonwealth. But religious toleration was no more understood under a King than under a Protector. The sufferings of the Quakers in the reign of Charles the Second prove this fact. In 1662 there were 4200 of this Society imprisoned in various parts of England either for frequenting meetings or refusing to take oaths or for keeping away from Church. Some of them were crowded into prisons so close that there was not room for all to sit down at once; they were tradesmen, shopkeepers, and husbandmen; their property was confiscated; they were refused straw to lie upon; they were often denied food. Here is an extract from Sewel:—

“At London, and in the suburbs, where about this time no less than five hundred of those called Quakers, imprisoned, and some in such narrow holes, that every person scarcely had convenience to lie down; and the felons were suffered to rob them of their clothes and money. Many that were not imprisoned, nevertheless suffered hardships in their religious meetings, especially that in London, known by the name of Bull and Mouth. Here the trained bands came frequently, armed generally with muskets, pikes, and halbards, and conducted by a military officer, by order of the city magistracy; and rushing in, in a very furious manner, fell to beating them, whereby many were grievously wounded, some fell down in a swoon, and some were beaten so violently, that they lived not long after it. Among these was one John Trowel, who was so bruised and crushed, that a few days after he died. His friends therefore thought it expedient to carry the corpse into the aforesaid meeting place, that it might lie there exposed for some hours, to be seen of every one. This being done, raised commiseration and pity among many of the inhabitants; for the corpse, beaten like a jelly, looked black, and was swoln in a direful manner. This gave occasion to send for the coroner, and he being come, empannelled a jury of the neighbours, and gave them in charge according to his office, to make true enquiry upon their oaths, and to present what they found to be the cause of his death. They, viewing the corpse, had a surgeon or two with them, to know their judgment concerning it; and then going together in private, at length they withdrew without giving in their verdict, only desiring the friends to bury the corpse, which was done accordingly that evening. And though the coroner and jury met divers times together upon that occasion, and had many consultations, yet they never would give in a verdict; but it appeared sufficiently, that the man was killed by violent beating. The reasons some gave for the suspense of a verdict were, that though it was testified that the same person, now dead, was seen beaten, and knocked down; yet it being done in such a confused crowd, no particular man could be fixed upon, so that any could say, that man did the deed. And if a verdict was given that the deceased person was killed, and yet no particular person charged with it, then the City was liable to a great fine, at the pleasure of the king, for conniving at such a murder in the city in the day-time, not committed in a corner, but in a publick place, and not apprehending the murderer, but suffering him to escape. In the meanwhile the friends of the deceased were not wanting to give public notice of the fact, and sent also a letter to the lord mayor, which afterwards they gave out in print, together with a relation of this bloody business. In this letter it was said, ‘It may be supposed thou hast heard of this thing, for it was done not in the night, but at the mid-time of the day; not suddenly, at unawares, or by mishap, but intendedly, and a long space of time a doing; and not in a corner, but in the streets of the city of London; all which circumstances do highly aggravate this murder, to the very shame and infamy of this famous city and its government’” (William Sewel, History of the Quakers, 1722, p. 346).

After the Restoration the religious condition of the City was greatly modified. First the Church of England was enormously stronger than it had been in any part of Charles the First’s reign. Then the persecution of Roman Catholics and Nonconformists affected London more than the country, first because many of the former had taken refuge in London, and next because the City contained thousands of the latter, some of whom obstinately refused any show of conformity. In 1666 the King banished all Roman Catholic priests; in the following year he forbade his subjects to hear Mass at the Queen’s or any Ambassador’s chapel. At the same time he called upon the civil officers to enforce the statutes provided. In 1671, when as yet few City churches were rebuilt, he ordered that certain places hitherto used as conventicles should be used as churches, served by orthodox ministers appointed by the Bishop of London:—

“In Fisher’s-folly, in Bishopsgate Street—a convenient place, with two galleries, pews, and seats.

In Hand-alley, in Bishopsgate Street—a large room, purposely built for a meeting-house, with three galleries, thirty large pews, and many benches and forms, known by the name of Vincent’s congregation.

In St. Michael’s Lane—a large room, with two galleries and thirty-nine forms.

In Mugwell Street—Mr. Doolittle’s meeting-house, built of brick, with three galleries, full of large pews; and thirty-eight large pews below, with locks and keys to them, besides benches and forms.

The Cockpit in Jewin Street—a meeting-house of one Grimes, many pews, forms, and benches.

In Blackfriars—Mr. Wood’s meeting-house; four rooms, opening into one another, with lattice partitions, each room conveniently fitted with benches and forms.

In Salisbury Court—four rooms, opening into one another, in the possession of John Foule, a schoolmaster.

In New Street, within Shoe Lane—four rooms, opening into one another, with seventeen pews, and divers benches, in the possession of Mrs. Turner.”

During the Commonwealth we find certain games forbidden, as the “Whimsey Board,” which used to be played in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. Persons guilty of playing the virginals in taverns were punished for “living loosely.” Search was continually made for Catholics. There were dissensions in certain City churches about altar rails and other things. The word saint was omitted. Weddings were celebrated by the Alderman of the ward, and banns were published in Leadenhall Market. The hospitals, with revenues greatly diminished, were used for the wounded soldiers. In the same year it was thought necessary to repeat the order for the banishment of priests, and in 1673 Catholic recusants were forbidden to enter the Palace or Park of St. James’s or the precincts of Whitehall. The Catholics, however, continued to flock to the Ambassadors’ chapels. It was therefore ordered that messengers of the Chamber or other officers should be stationed at the approaches to these chapels in order to arrest those proposing to attend service there.

In 1679 all Roman Catholics in London were ordered to leave the City and to withdraw at least ten miles from it.

The constant repetition of these ordinances proves that they were never enforced save by occasional fits of zeal; the Catholics went away; a week later they returned; no doubt the officers were bribed to shut their eyes. Yet the system was most exasperating; for a Catholic to be compelled to attend a Protestant service was almost as bad as for a Mohammedan to be compelled to eat pig; the Catholic rule about attending heretical services is never relaxed; while a zealous churchwarden, armed with blank warrants, which he could fill up as he pleased in order to arrest and to fine, might make life intolerable. A good many young Catholics went abroad for education, and presently found it expedient to stay there. The Nonconformists, for their part, had no intention of submitting meekly. There were riots and tumults in the City. In 1681 the Middlesex magistrates endeavoured to put in execution the Act of Charles II.:—

“Which enacts, that all those who preached in conventicles or meetings, contrary to the statutes of the realm, shall not come within five miles of a corporation; that no person shall teach in any school under the penalty of £40, unless he attend the established church. And that of the 20th year of the same reign, which ordains, that if any person above sixteen years of age attended a religious assembly in a house where more than five others, exclusive of the household, were present, except the rites were according to the established church, any person preaching there should forfeit a certain sum.”

It was presently reported, to the blind terror and indignation of the zealous, that in certain houses lately erected Catholics had opened schools, and had attracted many pupils and numbers of people, their parents and relations. It was therefore enacted that those persons who, having licences for keeping houses of entertainment, did not attend church and, instead, attended any kind of conventicle, should lose their licence, and—a very serious blow against Catholics and Nonconformists—money should not be given to the poor unless they attended church. The Privy Council, having a list of Catholic tradesmen in St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, St. Giles’s, and St. Paul’s, Covent Garden, set an example to the City by ordering the Justices of the Peace to proceed against them according to law.

The history of Nonconformity in London has been treated in the book of the Eighteenth Century. The following, however, is a list of conventicles and preachers in the year 1680:—

The example of religious discussion and the examination of doctrine penetrated, as has been set forth, to the lower classes. A case in point is that of Oliver Cromwell’s porter. This man, whose Christian name was Daniel, learned in Cromwell’s service much of the cant that prevailed at that time. He was a great plodder in books of divinity, especially in those of the mystical kind, which are supposed to have turned his brain. He was many years in Bedlam, where his library was, after some time, allowed him, as there was not the least probability of his cure. The most conspicuous of his books was a large Bible given him by Nell Gwynne. He frequently preached and sometimes prophesied, and was said to have foretold several remarkable events, particularly the Fire of London. One would think that Butler had this frantic enthusiast in view when he says:—

Mr. Charles Leslie, who has placed him in the same class with Fox and Muggleton, tells us that people often went to hear him preach, and “would sit many hours under his window with great signs of devotion.” That gentleman had the curiosity to ask a grave matron who was among his auditors, “What she could profit by hearing that madman?” She, with a composed countenance, as pitying his ignorance, replied, that “Festus thought Paul was mad.”

In the year 1692 one Robert Midgley was moved to speak out on behalf of the churches and their services. His pamphlet is useful in showing the conduct of the religious services in the City of London at that time. He imitated the methods of the theatres in issuing a printed paper of services and hours. I omit a portion of his preamble:—

“And now considering the ways and methods which Satan and his Emissaries have taken to fill his Chirches, the Theatres, with Votaries, have been (not by Bells, which make a great noise near hand and are not heard afar off, but) by silently dispersing their Bills, and setting them up at the corners of the streets, whereby they do draw People from all Parts to their contagious Assemblies, I was easily convinced of the Success of the like Undertaking for the Service of Almighty God, and therefore could no longer excuse myself for the Omission thereof. These are, therefore, Dearly beloved in Christ Jesus, to acquaint you where ye may daily, with the congregations of the Faithful, assemble together at the House of Prayer; where you may, in Imitation of the Apostles of our Lord, every Lord’s Day partake of the blessed Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper; and lastly, where there are any extraordinary regular Lectures to be heard; in all which, for your good, I have spared no pains for the certainty of my own information nor Charges in the Dispersing hereof for yours. And now know that the wilful Neglect of these means will one day have a sad after-reckoning, and that this Paper will then rise up in judgment against you.

If this Paper[5] have its desired effect, I trust Almighty God will open the hearts of his faithful Labourers, to set up Daily Prayer and weekly Communion in many of their own churches, where at present it is not.

For the sake of such as, during the whole time this is dispersing, may happen, either by sickness, Absence, or otherwise, not to come in the way of it, there shall be of them to be bought, Price one Halfpenny, which is also Corban, and therefore put into the hands but of one person to sell; whoever else, therefore, does sell them, does also Print them, and consequently does not only rob this Bookseller of his Copy (which cost the Author so much labour to form) but all the Poor also of their just due herein, which it is hoped every Christian Buyer will remember and consider.

Rob. Midgley.”

From his list it appears that there were four daily services in one church, three in seven churches, two in forty-one, and one in thirty-six. That the Holy Communion was administered every Sunday in eight churches, three times a month in two, twice at two churches, viz. the chapels of Gray’s Inn and Lincoln’s Inn, and on the first Sunday of the month at all the other churches. As regards the hour, at two churches there were two celebrations at 7 A.M. and noon, in two at 6 A.M., in one at 8 A.M.; in all the rest at noon.

There were lectures in three churches at 6 A.M. every Sunday, in one church at 7 A.M., in one at 10 A.M., in two at 4 P.M., in ten at 5 P.M., and in one at 6 P.M. On week days there were four churches where a lecture was given once a week at 6 A.M., one at 9 A.M., twelve at 10 A.M., one at 11 A.M., one at 2 P.M., three at 3 P.M., four at 4 P.M., one at 5 P.M., and one at 6 P.M. Of evening service, as we understand it, there was none. It is, however, without doubt that all the churches were open practically every day for service, and that all the week round a pious person might hear a sermon in the morning and another in the evening; or he might run round from church to church and hear sermons all day long.

Charity has always been closely coupled with church-going in theory at least. In Appendix III. will be found a list of the almshouses of London of this period.

This list, containing forty-one almshouses in which hospitals are not included and seventeen schools, appears to speak well for the charity, well directed and deliberate, of the seventeenth century. Out of the whole number of almshouses in existence in the year 1756, when this list was compiled, the seventeenth century founded nearly the half, and of the whole number of endowed schools existing in 1753, the seventeenth century contributed exactly one half.

Of the greatest of all the “almshouses” founded in the Stuart period, viz. Chelsea Hospital, I do not speak in this place, as a full account of it is given elsewhere in the Survey.[6]

Foremost among the superstitious beliefs of the century was that of witchcraft. It became, indeed, more actively mischievous and more real in the minds of the people on account of the universal habit, considered as a Christian duty, of referring everything to the Bible, as much to the Old as to the New Testament. Theologians of all sects believed in witchcraft and in the active interference of the Devil. Erasmus and Luther, for instance, were believers in witchcraft, while King James wrote on witches. The persecution of miserable old women, accused of being witches because they were old and poor, was carried on throughout the seventeenth century; it is a frightful record of cruelty and superstition, especially in the eastern counties, which were mainly Puritan, and therefore even more inclined than the rest of England to accept the literal application of the Old Testament to their own time. “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,” said the Book of Exodus. “There shall not be found among you,” said the Book of Deuteronomy, “one that useth divinations, or an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch, or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard, or a necromancer.” Could anything be plainer? Again, “Regard not them that have familiar spirits, neither seek after wizards to be defiled with them. I am the Lord your God.”

The belief in witchcraft was universal, but the persecution was not; in London, though there is no reason to doubt the belief, there are few cases on record of the actual persecution of witches. One case is that of Sarah Mordyke, who was apprehended at Paul’s Wharf, charged with bewitching one Richard Hetheway, near the Falcon Stairs in Southwark. She was taken before certain learned Justices in Bow Lane. The victim swore that he had lost his appetite, voided pins, etc., but recovered when he had scratched and brought blood from Sarah Mordyke, the witch.

Another case is that of Sarah Griffith. She lived in Rosemary Lane. She had long been considered a bad woman, but nothing could be proved against her, though it was suspicious that her neighbours’ children were affected with strange distempers, and were affrighted with apparitions of cats. One day, however, she was buying soap in a shop when the apprentice laughed at the scales not being right, and said they must be bewitched. Whereupon the old woman thought he was laughing at her and vowed vengeance. Sure enough, in the night everything in the shop was turned topsy-turvy.

Two or three days after, the apprentice, with two or three friends, was walking towards New River Head when they met Sarah Griffith. It was a favourable opportunity to try her, so they tossed her into the canal. Instead of drowning she swam like a cork—a sure sign of her guilt. When they let her come out she smote the young man on the arm, making a mark as black as a coal, and told him he should pay dear for what he had done. So he went home in a great fright and died. After this his master took a constable and brought her before the Justices, charging her with compassing the death of his apprentice by witchcraft. She was accordingly committed to the Clerkenwell Bridewell, and I know not what became of her afterwards.

I have before me a short pamphlet on the tragic history of a young gentleman of Stepney who sold himself to the Devil.

When one remembers Defoe’s mystification about Mrs. Veal one suspects that this story is also an invention, devised for the purpose of inspiring godly fear, and based upon popular superstition rather than a narrative put together on hearsay, exaggerated as it passed from lip to lip. The story is quite in Defoe’s circumstantial manner. A young gentleman named Watts, son of Mr. William Watts of Stepney and of Anne, daughter of Squire Wilson of Brentwood, was the only survivor of four children. He was therefore treated with the greatest indulgence and tenderness. After five years at St. John’s College, Oxford, he returned home and began to keep evil company, being already ripe in wickedness. His parents remonstrated with him, but in vain. Finally, his father refused to give him any more money for the support of his extravagances. The son, in a great rage, swore that he would be revenged upon his parents even to the hazard of his soul. He took a lodging at some distance from his father’s house, and fell to devising how he might get the estate into his own hands.

Now, as he was thus meditating, Satan himself came into the room and asked the reason of his sadness. After a little conversation the young man consented to sign away his soul with his own blood in return for as much money as he could spend in twelve years.

When the time approached he went home, struck with terror and remorse, and confessed to his father all that he had done.

His father sent for certain divines who are duly mentioned, viz. Dr. Russel of Wapping, Dr. Sannods, Dr. Smithies, and Dr. Paul. These clergymen gathered round the poor wretch, now weeping and wringing his hands, and entreated him to pray; but he could not, so they prayed for him, but in vain; for in the middle of the night there arose a dreadful storm of thunder, lightning, rain, and hail, and in the midst of the storm the Devil came into the room “in dreadful shapes,” snatched the young man from their midst, dashed out his brains against the wall, tore him limb from limb, and scattered the fragments on the dunghill behind the house.

The pamphlet concludes with a sermon preached upon this doleful occasion. The story is, as I said before, either an exaggerated account of some local rumour, or it is a deliberate invention, which is, of course, the more probable. In either case it proves the continued existence of the old traditions about selling one’s self to the Devil, of which we find abundant examples among the mediÆval chronicles. The superstition must be added to those already recorded of the seventeenth century.

It is needless to add that the bagful of superstitions was swallowed whole by people of every rank and class. In the Spectator we read how the girls vied with each other in telling ghost stories. They watched for omens, and made themselves miserable when these were unlucky; they remembered their dreams carefully and consulted the Dictionary of Dreams or the nearest wise woman; they learned what was coming by the tingling of the ears, irritation of the nose, specks on the nails, and other signs; the meeting of birds and creatures filled them with terror; they read warnings in the candle and in the fire; the dogs howled in sign of approaching death. Most of these superstitions are still with us, more or less. It must, however, be observed that London, with its crowded, busy, active life, was far less troubled with superstitions than the country; people had no time to worry over signs and omens in the midst of their full and busy lives.

Lucky and unlucky days played a very important part in the conduct of life. Cromwell’s lucky day was the 3rd of September. Thursday was an unlucky day for Henry VIII. and his children. Every change of moon brought an unlucky day; there were also certain unlucky days in every month. Lord Burghley, who despised these observances as a rule, kept three days in the year as especially unlucky. The reasons why he considered them unlucky mark a great gulf between his time and ours. The first Monday in April was one, because on that day Cain was born and Abel was killed. The second Monday in August was another, because then Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed. The remaining day was the last Monday in December, because at that time Judas Iscariot was born. How these days were discovered, and why they should be unlucky for all time to follow, are questions which it is impossible to answer.

Almanacks containing lists of lucky and unlucky days were in great request, and continued until quite recently. They were consulted by everybody before entering upon any kind of work.

The autobiography of William Lilly is valuable for its unconscious exposure of fraud, impudence, credulity, and superstition. He lived throughout the greater part of the seventeenth century. It was an age in which the so-called science of astrology flourished exceedingly. The astrologer not only cast nativities and foretold in general terms the future of a man, but also condescended to answer questions concerning doubtful points, as in matters of love; found lucky days for the commencement of any business or enterprise; discovered thefts and thieves; practised physic without preliminary training, and compelled, by means of the crystal ball or some other magic, spirits and angels to perform their bidding. In all these pretensions and powers Lilly firmly believed; yet he was unable to prove them by making the spirits, his servants, obey him in great things—such as the rescue of King Charles and the triumph of his cause. Moreover, in his simple chat about his brethren of the fraternity he is quite unable to see how he gives away the whole of his own pretensions by exposing their weakness and their failures. Thus one of them “sets a figure” about himself. He learns from this figure that he is to be a Lord or great man within two years. Alas! in two years he was in Newgate Prison. Another time he set his figure, and learned that he was to be a great man within a year. But in that year he advanced not one whit. And being consulted by a friend about to undertake a voyage, he learned by astrology that it would be a fortunate adventure. Unhappily it proved the reverse, for the adventurer was taken prisoner by pirates and lost his all. He set down four or five other judgments, in every one of which he was wrong. Lilly, however, sees in these failures no reflection on the “science” at all. Another of them, Evans, a clergyman who had to give up his benefice on account of some scandal, lived by giving judgment on things lost; he was “much addicted to debauchery,” very abusive and quarrelsome; he made and sold antimonial cups, and he was in correspondence with an angel named Salmon, whom he ordered to fetch and carry for him. His portrait, if it is genuine, represents a face like a dog’s—the most ill-favoured, ill-conditioned, repulsive face imaginable. Another, Alexander Hart, used his wonderful powers for finding lucky days for young gentlemen about to gamble. Lilly does not seem to have grasped the elementary fact that any one actually possessing magical powers would certainly use them for his own enrichment. And there was Captain Bubb, who “resolved horary questions astrologically.” He, however, was found out and put into pillory. There was one Jeffrey Neve, who brought Lilly two hundred “verified questions,” desiring him to correct them for publication, but of the first forty, thirty were untrue. There was Dr. Ardee, who declared that an angel had offered him a lease of life for one thousand years; yet the poor man died at fourscore.

The crystal ball was not an astrological instrument, but many of the astrologers practised by means of it. This instrument of pretence and imposture has been revived in our own times. The ball was held in the hand by those who had “the sight.” Then things and persons were seen. Thus there was one Sarah Skelhorn who had a perfect “sight.” She could see in the ball what any persons were doing at any time or in any place, but seems to have used this remarkable gift for objects quite paltry, as when she observed her mother, who was many miles away, taking a red waistcoat out of a trunk—a really terrible waste of good power. How useful would Sarah be in time of war in order to tell exactly where the enemy was and what the enemy was doing! She was also familiar with angels, who were so fond of her that they followed her about until she was really tired of them.

There was Ellen Evans, daughter of the scandalous dÉfroquÉ above mentioned. She could call up the Queen of the Pigmies whenever she pleased merely by saying, “O Micol! O tu Micol, Regina Pygmeorum, veni!” There was also Sir Robert Holborn, Knight, who “formerly had sight and conference with Uriel and Raphael, but lost them both by carelessness.” And so on. The volume is redeemed from intolerable silliness by the firm belief of the author in the science. It shows, however, that the whole of the country was filled with credulity and childish superstition.

The following lines are the commencement of a Latin epitaph composed for Lilly by one George Smalridge, student of Christ Church, Oxford:—

Two official superstitions must be recorded, if only because they were practised and no doubt fully believed in London. They were touching for the King’s Evil and the blessing of the Cramp Ring. The ceremonies for both these observances are here described.

First, the touching for the King’s Evil—

“The King, kneeling, shall say,

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

And so soon as He hath said that, He shall say,

Give the blessing.

The Chaplain, kneeling before the King, and having a Stole about his Neck, shall answer and say,

The Lord be in your heart and in your lips, to confess all your sins. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Or else he shall say,

Christ hear us. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Then by and by the King shall say,

I confess to God, to the blessed Virgin Mary, to all Saints, and to you, that I have sinned in thought, word, and deed through my fault; I pray Holy Mary, and all the saints of God and you, to pray for me.

The Chaplain shall answer and say,

Almighty God have mercy upon you, and pardon you all your sins, deliver you from all evil, and confirm you in good, and bring you to everlasting life. Amen.

The Almighty and Merciful Lord grant you absolution and remission of all your sins, time for true repentance and amendment of life, with the grace and comfort of his Holy Spirit. Amen.

This done the Chaplain shall say,

The Lord be with you.

The King shall answer,

And with thy spirit.

The Chaplain,

Part of the Gospel according to St. Mark.

The King shall answer,

Glory to thee, O Lord.

The Chaplain reads the Gospel:

Last he appeared to those Eleven as they sat at the Table: and he exprobated their Incredulity and hardness of Heart, because they did not believe them that had seen him risen again. And he said to them: Going into the whole World, Preach the Gospel to all Creatures. He that believeth and is Baptised, shall be saved: But he that believeth not, shall be condemned. And them that believe, these Signs shall follow: In my name shall they cast out Devils, they shall speak with new tongues. Serpents shall they take up, and if they drink any deadly thing it shall not hurt them; they shall impose hands upon the sick, and they shall be whole.

Which last clause (They shall impose, etc.) the Chaplain repeats as long as the King is handling the sick person. And in the time of repeating the aforesaid words (They shall impose, etc.) the Clerk of the Closet shall Kneel before the King, having the sick person upon the right hand; and the sick person shall likewise kneel before the King: and then the King shall lay his hand upon the sore of the sick Person. This done, the Chaplain shall make an end of the Gospel:

And so our Lord Jesus after he spake unto them was assumpted into Heaven, and sate on the right hand of God. But they going forth preached everywhere; our Lord working withal, and confirming the Word with signs which followed.

Whilst this is reading, the Chirurgion shall lead away the sick person from the King. And after the Gospel the Chaplain shall say,

The Lord be with you.

The King shall answer,

And with thy spirit.

The Chaplain,

The beginning of the Gospel according to St. John.

The King,

Glory to thee, O Lord.

The Chaplain then shall say this Gospel following:

In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and God was the word. This was in the beginning with God. All things were made by him, and without him was made nothing that which was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it. There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. This man came for testimony: to give testimony of the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but to give testimony of the light. It was the true light which lightneth every man that cometh into this world.

Which last Clause (It was the true light, etc.) shall still be repeated so long as the King shall be crossing the sore of the sick Person, with an Angel of Gold Noble, and the sick Person to have the same Angel hang’d about his neck, and to wear it until he be full whole. This done, the Chirurgion shall lead away the sick Person as he did before; and then the Chaplain shall make an end of the Gospel:

He was in the world, and the world was made by him, and the world knew him not. He came into his own, and his own received him not. But as many as received him, he gave them power to be made the Sons of God, to those that believe in his name. Who not of blood, nor of will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God are born. And the word was made flesh and dwelt in us, and we saw the glory of him, glory as it were of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and verity.

Then the Chaplain shall say,

The Lord’s name be praised.

The King shall answer,

Now and for ever.

Then shall the Chaplain say this Collect following, praying for the Sick Person or Persons,

O Lord, hear my prayer.

The King shall answer,

And let my cry come unto thee.

The Chaplain,

Let us pray:

Almighty and everlasting God, the eternal health of them that believe; graciously hear us for thy servants for whom we implore the aid of thy mercy, that their health being restored to them, they may give thee thanks in thy church, thro’ Christ our Lord. Amen.

This Prayer following is to be said secretly, after the Sick Persons be departed from the King, at his Pleasure:

Almighty God, Ruler and Lord, by whose goodness the blind see, the deaf hear, the dumb speak, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and all sick persons are healed of their infirmities: By whom also alone the gift of healing is given to mankind, and so great a grace, thro’ thine unspeakable goodness toward this Realm, is granted unto the Kings thereof, that by the sole imposition of their hands a most grievous and filthy disease should be cured: Mercifully grant that we may give thee thanks therefore, and for this thy singular benefit conferr’d on us, not to ourselves, but to thy name let us daily give glory; and let us always so exercise ourselves in piety, that we may labour not only diligently to conserve, but every day more and more to encrease thy grace bestowed upon us: And grant that on whose bodies soever we have imposed hands in thy name, thro’ this thy Vertue working in them, and thro’ our Ministry, may be restored to their former health, and being confirmed therein, may perpetually with us give thanks unto thee, the Chief Physician and Healer of all diseases; and that henceforwards they may so lead their lives, as not their bodies only from sickness, but their souls also from sin may be perfectly purged and cured: Thro’ our Lord Jesus Christ thy Son, who liveth and reigneth with thee in the Unity of the Holy Ghost, God World without end. Amen.”

Next, the blessing of the Cramp Ring by the King on Good Friday according to the form prescribed. It was as follows:—

“First, the singing of the Psalm Deus Misereatur Noster.

Then the King reades this prayer:

Almighty eternal God, who by the most copious gifts of thy grace, flowing from the unexhausted fountain of thy bounty, hast been graciously pleased for the comfort of mankind, continually to grant us many and various meanes to relieve us in our miseries; and art willing to make those the instruments and channels of thy gifts, and to grace those persons with more excellent favours, whom thou hast raised to the Royal dignity; to the end that as by Thee they reign and govern others: so by Thee they may prove beneficial to them; and bestow thy favours on the people: graciously heare our prayers, and favourably receive those vows we powre forth with humility, that Thou mayst grant to us, who beg with the same confidence the favour, which our Ancestours by their hopes in thy mercy have obtained: through Christ our Lord. Amen.

The Rings lying in one bason or more, this prayer is to be said over them:

O God, the maker of heavenly and earthly creatures, and the most gracious restorer of mankind, the dispenser of spiritual grace, and the origin of all blessings; send downe from heaven thy holy Spirit the Comforter upon these Rings, artificially fram’d by the workman, and by thy greate power purify them so, that all the malice of the fowle and venomous Serpent be driven out; and so the metal, which by Thee was created, may remaine pure, and free from all dregs of the enemy. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

The Blessing of the Rings:

O God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob, heare mercifully our prayers. Spare those who feare thee. Be propitious to thy suppliants, and graciously be pleased to send downe from Heaven thy holy Angel: that he may sanctify ? and blesse ? these Rings: to the end they may prove a healthy remedy to such as implore thy name with humility, and accuse themselves of the sins, which ly upon their conscience: who deplore their crimes in the sight of thy divine clemency, and beseech with earnestness and humility thy most serene piety. May they in fine by the invocation of thy holy name become profitable to all such as weare them, for the health of their soule and body, through Christ our Lord. Amen.

A Blessing.

O God, who has manifested the greatest wonders of thy power by the cure of diseases, and who were pleased that Rings should be a pledge of fidelity in the patriark Judah, a priestly ornament in Aaron, the mark of a faithful guardian in Darius, and in this Kingdom a remedy for divers diseases: graciously be pleased to blesse and sanctify these rings, to the end that all such who weare them may be free from all snares of the Devil, may be defended by the power of celestial armour; and that no contraction of the nerves, or any danger of the falling sickness may infest them, but that in all sort of diseases by thy help they may find relief. In the name of the Father, ? and of the Son, ? and of the Holy Ghost. ? Amen.”

After another psalm the following prayer was read:—

“Wee humbly implore, O merciful God, thy infinit clemency; that as we come to thee with a confident soule, and sincere faith, and a pious assurance of mind: with the like devotion thy beleevers may follow on these tokens of thy grace. May all superstition be banished hence, far be all suspicion of any diabolical fraud, and to the glory of thy name let all things succeede: to the end thy beleevers may understand thee to be the dispenser of all good; and may be sensible and publish, that whatsoever is profitable to soule or body is derived from thee: through Christ our Lord. Amen.

These prayers being said, the Kings highnes rubbeth the Rings between his hands, saying:

Sanctify, O Lord, these Rings, and graciously bedew them with the dew of thy benediction, and consecrate them by the rubbing of our hands, which thou hast been pleased according to our ministry to sanctify by an external effusion of holy oyle upon them: to the end, that what the nature of the mettal is not able to performe, may be wrought by the greatnes of thy grace: through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

Then with another prayer holy water was thrown on the rings and the ceremony was complete.

There is a somewhat dreary allegory of a voyage called “The Floating Island, or a New Discovery relating the Strange Adventure on a late Voyage from Lambethana to Villa Franca, alias Ramallia, to the eastward of Terra del Templo.”

It was published in the year 1673, and it contains an account of certain parts of London which give it some interest. The humour of the piece is that places described are mentioned as new discoveries lying at the distance of many days’ voyage from one to the other. Thus, to take a single example, the following is the description of the Savoy. The sanctuary of this quarter is, of course, Alsatia:—

“The Palace is a very stately Fabrick, and hath been formerly employed for charitable uses, and still serves as an excellent Refuge and Sanctuary for such who are either forced by banishment, or voluntary Exile, to desert their native or long lov’d habitations, where they may live obscurely, and yet take their pleasure abroad in the Countries round about, by the means of those several convenient Avenues belonging thereunto, viz. for sporting on a brave River, the Stairs; for the Land, the Great Gate butting Norwards and separated but by a very small channel from Excestria. To the eastward there is an outlet which leadeth two ways, the one on the left into the Dutchy, the other turning a little on the right, into Somersetania; by the first you have a conveyance into the Country called Maypolia, and so have the whole Country before you to make choice of; by the last a safe passage by water, or a conduct short and commodious through the Provinces of White-Hart into Hortensia (vulgarly called Covent Garden), from whence you may travail through the whole kingdom.

The Slavonian women supplied us with Fish and fruits of all sort, which they bring down in abundance from the Upland Countries; insomuch that we could not fear want of Provision so long as we had Money; nor question our security, whilst we did put ourselves under the Protection of this place or of the Dutchy Liberty.”

The sanctuary was for debtors, but not for felons or traitors, and bailiffs occasionally effected an entrance by pretending to have a warrant for the arrest of the latter. But on the cry of “Arrest, Arrest,” the whole of the residents flew to arms and drove out the offenders, perhaps with the loss of their ears. There were punishments inflicted on those who invaded the rights of sanctuary.

Not far from the Savoy the adventurous voyagers discover a floating island, called the Summer Island, or Scoti Moria, viz. “There were two Ports or landing Places, one guarded by ‘Knights of the Blue Aprons,’” i.e. waiters, who wore aprons of that colour; and the other by a woman with a white apron. They landed; they found, to leave the allegory, a company assembled playing skittles on the deck and down below drinking bad wine in worse company. The whole of the vessel was filled with bottles; and for commodities for sale or exchange there were none except “what were wrapped in silken Petticoats, and like a Pig in a Poke you must buy, or not at all.” There was also a billiard table on the ship, and tobacco was their only “breath and breathing while.” The next land they touch is the Island of Ursina, or the Bearbaiting, on which it appears that the charge of five shillings covered a ticket for drink as well as entrance. The description of the sport, which follows, affords nothing new. Sailing from Ursina, they arrive at the Ne plus ultra, where they are deafened by the “great fall and hideous noise of the waters”—in other words, at London Bridge. Not far from this place they discovered mermaids, both male and female; but the latter only swam at night, being shy. I do not understand this allusion.

The author is pleased to represent Terra del Templo, or the Temple, as a place occupied chiefly by a people constantly engaged in defending themselves against an enemy.

“In the Description of this Ramallia, I must look into Terra del Templo, but shall not pry into its Court, nor any of the standing houses, the Housekeeper’s lodging, nor into the menial precincts of the Inns of Court, farther, than they stand for Refuge and Relief of the neighbouring Privileges about them. And indeed (since the general purgation by fire) the first, and chiefest of all, which for advantage of ground, for fortifications, for Water Works, Posterns, Passages, Supplies, and provisions by land, or otherwise, is that so far famed and so fitly named Ramallia; in it are several Garrisons of old Soldiers, every one of the which is able to lead a whole Army of Younger Debtors.

They call their Muster rÔle in the Round Church, which might more properly be called their Corps du Guard; then they draw them out into the Cloysters, and either exercise them there, or in the Garden, which is an excellent Military Spot for that purpose; but under the Blowers in the Rum Stampers (called the King’s Bench walk) they pitch their set Battles, where every evening that ground (which was lifted in and level’d for their use) is fil’d with men of desperate and undaunted resolution.

The first work in Ramallia is rais’d and contrived in the form of a Ram; there is no other reason I can render for it, but that Rams were of great use in the Jewish Discipline, for Batteries, as you may read in Josephus his History more at large. This work is of reasonable strength; in former times it had a watch Tower in the similitude of a Coblers shop adjoyning, from whence all the forces about are called together, upon the least approach of the Enemy. There is another, called the Maidenhead, and is impregnable, where the Enemy dares not come within shot, and in the nearest to the confines of Terra del Templo. There are other pretty contrived Platforms, as Teste Royal, the Falcon, Mitre, etc., and these in the fashion and form of Cookshops; where if a Setter or Spy chance to peep in at them (though very dark) they will make him pay for the roast before he depart. To this Ramallia, or Ramykins, belongs a very great Fleet, consisting of many Sail, well man’d, and are a great preservation to the Ramykins.

This place, according to the late Geographical Map, as well as the report of ancient Writers, cannot possibly be so besieged but that they within may go in and out at their pleasure, without impeachment; for at the Middle Temple Gate they issue in spight of the Devil; at the Inner Temple Gate they fear no colours in the Rainbow; and at the Postern of the Ramykins, in case they cannot make over to Fetter Lane, but discover Ambuscado’s, they need only draw their bodies within guard of Pike, turn faces about, and retreat through the Mitre.

Now admit they stand for Rio del Plata (commonly called Fleet Street) and be so intercepted that they cannot recover the Ramykins, all that is required in that case is but to mend their March; fall downwards, as if they gave way, suddenly discharge their right-hand file, and fall easily into Sergeants Inn; where by ancient Treaty had between this famous place and Terra del Templo, it was agreed that the parties in such distress might (paying a small Fee) have convoy and conveyance without the re-hazzard of any of their persons.

If at any time they had a mind to Forrage, they are no sooner out of the Middle Temple Gate, but there is a threefold way to defend them; the Bell Inn, the Bar Gate, and Shire Lane. The passage under the Blowers is a most excellent safe way for close contriving and retriving; neither is the Gardners Wharfage (as the Tide may serve) anyways inconsiderable. To speak the truth, the nature of Ramallia is much alter’d in few years, neither is the place so much frequented as formerly by Forreigners in Refuge, the inhabitants slighting or being careless in the preservation of their ancient privileges.”

The author tells us, further, that there were formerly many other places which were considered sanctuaries for debtors, i.e. places where writs could not be served. These were (1) Milford Lane, at first occupied and defended by indigent officers, who held it, so to speak, by the sword:—

“And notwithstanding their title hath been much disputed heretofore, yet they have now commuted the matter, prov’d Plantation, and have withal reduced it to a most absolute Hance and free Town of itself, without dependency.”

(2) Fulwoods Rents in Holborn, a place which remained to this century of bad reputation, though it contained several good houses.[7]

(3) Baldwin’s Gardens was another sanctuary:—

“The Back-gate into Graies-Inn Lane, with the benefit of Bauldwins Gardens, is of excellent use; but the passiges through certain Inns on the Field-side are not attempted without hazard, by reason of the straggling Troops of the Enemy, who lie Purdue in every ale-house thereabouts. The safest way of Sally is that through the Walks, from whence the Red Lyon in Graies-Inn Lane receives them with good quartering, and passes them through the back way into the Main Land.”

(4) Another was Great St. Bartholomew’s:—

“Upon whose platform a whole Army of Borrowers and Book-men might have been mustred and drawn out in length, or into what form or figure it had pleased them to cast themselves. What works, yea what variety of Art and Workmanship was within it; What an excellent half-Moon was there cast up without it, for defence to the Eastward; What excellent Sconces, in the fashion of Tobacco-shops and Ale houses in all parts of it.

But alas these are demolisht, for the most part, the old Soldiers discharg’d, and all delivered up into the hand of the Enemy upon composition.”

The precinct of St. John of Jerusalem was also formerly held as a sanctuary, but had lost its privileges. In the precinct of Blackfriars privileges were granted to some of the oldest trades, those, probably, which were carried on in the few houses belonging to the Friars. These were feathermakers, Scotch tailors, and French shoemakers. Another is Montagu Close, on the west side of St. Mary Overies, the sanctuary of the Borough. In later years it was removed further south to the place called the Mint.

On the north side of Blackfriars is the place which the residents of all these sanctuaries are continually trying to escape. The author calls it a very strong and formidable citadel belonging to the enemy. This is Ludgate Prison.

“It is much like the apples of Sodom, better for fight without than in. Its whole prospect from within are iron grates, where, through every Transom, the forlorn Captives may take a view of the Iron Age; there is one single entrance, which, like Hell’s Gate, lets many in, but few out, turn once the Ward—Et vestigia nulla retrorsum. The Cimmerians in their dwellings resemble these in their lodgings, only their lights are different; those receive some scattered beamings by their Mountain Crannies; these by their disconsolate loopholes.

Yet from above, the Inhabitants may take a view of all those places which club’d to their restrain; and be reminded of the loss of time which brought them thither. The Governour hereof is careless whence they come, but infinitely cautious how they go away; and if they go away without his favour, they are in great danger to break their necks for their labour.”

The rest of the little book is made up of a Rabelaisian description of the people in sanctuary—the Ram Alley folk, with certain “special cases.”

“In case of Linnen, it hath been adjudged, that if three good fellows and constant Companions have but one shirt between them, and that these three (seeing none of their other shifts will do them any good) jointly consent this shirt shall be sold, it shall be lawful for them to expose it to sale, vended and condemned for the common good of three, and that forthwith the money be spent in the cherishing that blood that retired from the extream parts, being chil’d with the fright of parting with so dear and near a friend.”

In this chapter I have collected certain notes which may illustrate such points in City government as differentiate the seventeenth century from that which preceded and that which followed it. For instance, the times were troubled; a man might, by bending before the successive storms, win his way through in safety; but an honest man with principles, courage, and convictions might expect fine and imprisonment if he accepted office, and might think himself lucky if he carried his ears out of office, or if he were not fined to the full extent of his worldly fortune, or if he had not to fly across the seas to Holland. In Remembrancia, therefore, we are not surprised to find many letters from merchants praying to be excused from office.

Among the less dangerous duties of the Mayor was the reception of the foreign Ambassadors.

On the arrival of Ambassadors the Lords of the Council sent a letter to the Lord Mayor commanding him to find a suitable residence and a proper reception. In 1580 the Spanish Ambassador was allotted a house in Fenchurch Street which he did not like, so he asked instead for Arundel House. In 1583 the Swedish Ambassador arrived; he was to have three several lodgings, with stabling for twenty horses. In 1613 the “Emperor of Muscovy” sent an Ambassador; in 1611 one came from the Duke of Savoy; in 1616 an Ambassador-Extraordinary arrived from the King of France; in 1626 two from the State of Venice; in 1628 another Spanish Ambassador; in the same year a Russian Ambassador; in 1637 an Ambassador from the “King of Morocco.” All these Ambassadors were lodged and entertained in the City after a formal reception and procession through the streets to their lodging.

MediÆval London was a city of palaces and of nobles’ palaces. Under the Tudors there were still some of these town houses left. Toward the end of the seventeenth century there were very few, only one or two.

A long list of noblemen and gentlemen living around London in the year 1673 may be found in the London and Middlesex Note-book. When one examines this list a little closely, it is remarked that the residences of far the greater number of those on the list are at St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, at Westminster, in St. James’s Fields, in Leicester Fields, at Hackney, and that, though some actually belong to the outskirts of the City, none are living within the walls of the City itself except the City knights and merchants.

The houses still occupied by nobility, taking them from Ogilby’s Map (see Map) were: Thanet House in Aldersgate Street, the town house of the Earl of Thanet; the Earl of Bridgwater’s house in the Barbican; Warwick House; Brook House and Ely House, in Holborn; Lord Berkeley’s house in St. John Street; the Marquis of Dorchester’s, Lord Grey’s, and the Earl of Ailesbury’s in Charter-house Lane; in the Strand, Somerset House, belonging to, or occupied by successively, Queen Anne of Denmark, Queen Henrietta Maria, Queen Catherine of Braganza; Arundel House, then the residence of the Duke of Norfolk, who was a great collector of statues and inscriptions; Essex House, where Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, the parliamentary general, was born. All these three were in the Strand. Outside Ogilby’s Map, but still in the outskirts of the City, were Lord Craven’s and Lord Clare’s houses, in and near Drury Lane.

If we take one parish for an example—say that of St. Benet’s, Thames Street—we find that the son of the Earl of Carnarvon was christened in that church on November 26, 1633, that four children of the Earl of Pembroke were born in this parish and christened in this church, viz. Susanna, christened May 7, 1650; Mary, December 12, 1651; Philip, January 5, 1652; and Rebecca, July 18, 1655.

Before the Fire these noblemen had town houses in the parish—Lord Pembroke had Baynard’s Castle; their chaplains died in those town houses and lie buried in the church. Derby House, now the College of Heralds, was also in this parish, as was also Huntingdon House, the residence of Lord Hastings.

The departure of the nobility from their City houses was perhaps one cause of the cessation of the old connection of the country gentry with the City. This departure also contributed to a very important social change, viz. the fact that for a long time, now more than two centuries, the Mayor, the Aldermen, the City officers, and the City merchants have been socially and politically entirely out of touch with the nobility. In the next century some of the effects of this separation were greatly to be lamented. The seventeenth century, however, furnishes one very remarkable illustration of the connection between the City and the country gentry. It is also an illustration of the way in which middle-class families went up and down. Early in the seventeenth century, one Pepys, a country gentleman of no great standing, married a girl of his own class whose sister married into the Montagu family. One of his sons, a younger son, was sent to London and entered into trade, but without conspicuous success. He became a tailor, and he was of course first cousin to Sir Edward Montagu, his mother’s nephew. One of his sons succeeded him in the business, the other became Secretary of the Admiralty, and afterwards President of the Royal Society; he is also the writer of the finest diary ever committed to paper. Sir Edward Montagu became Lord Sandwich. In his family there were therefore, all closely connected, Lord Sandwich, the Chief Justice of Ireland, a Doctor of Divinity, a Member of Parliament, the Secretary of the Admiralty, a serjeant-at-law, a hosteller, a publican, a tobacconist, a butcher, a tailor, a weaver, a goldsmith, and a turner. As yet, however, the rest of the Note-book before us shows a great number of persons in the City who had the right to call themselves “Gentlemen” at a time when the title could not be assumed by any who chose, and was not conferred lightly or at haphazard. Social distinctions were much more strongly marked then than now. Although the City contained no noble lords, it had Baronets, Knights, Esquires, and Gentlemen. The Esquires were gentlemen of good estate, dignified councillors at law, physicians, and holders of the King’s Commission, holders of offices of importance. The eldest son of a Knight was an Esquire by right; the eldest son of a Sheriff was also entitled to this distinction. Pepys, when he received the appointment of Secretary to the Admiralty, is addressed for the first time in his life, and greatly to his delight, as Esquire. The title of Gentleman was more widely claimed; the son of a gentleman was also a gentleman. A younger son, however, could not call himself, or be called Esquire unless he had some other qualification. It is not at all uncommon to find the word “Gentleman” on a title-page after the name of the author. There are complaints as to the illegal use of the title. The rank of gentleman was conceded to attorneys, proctors, and notaries; but merchants, however wealthy, artists, authors, surgeons, and tradesmen could obtain no recognition of gentility on account of the nature of their work, though by descent they might be gentlemen.

The Visitation of London (1633–1635), published in 1880 by the Harleian Society, contains the genealogies and shields of over 900 City families. If we assume that these shields were honestly examined and allowed, we have the very remarkable fact that in the seventeenth century there were 900 City families within the walls of the City who were descended from the country gentry, and had preserved proof of their descent. The trade or calling of those whose names are given in the genealogy does not always appear; the great majority seem to be in trade of some kind. Thus we find Goldsmith, Draper, Grocer, Fishmonger, Haberdasher, Mercer, Gentleman, Skinner, “of the Temple,” Doctor of Physic, Merchant Tailor, Merchant, Doctor of Divinity, Vintner, Barber, Surgeon, “of Clifford’s Inn,” Attorney in the office of the Pleas on the Exchequer Court, Cordwayner, “Searcher and Trier and Sealer of Madder,” Dyer, Scryvener, Sadler, “Silman to Prince Charles,” Merchant of the Staple, “One of His Majesty’s Auditors,” “One of the Commissioners for the Royal Navy,” “Surveyor of Customs,” Joyner, Stationer, Brewer, etc. Here are enough to show that every kind of trade was represented, but not every kind of craft. It is rare to find a craft at all, and then the person concerned was evidently an employer of working-men, a master craftsman. The names themselves have quite lost the mediÆval aspect which they presented in the wills and memorials. There is hardly a name which might not belong to the London Directory of the present year. The name of Pepys is among them, but not that of Samuel, who was not yet born. “Yet I never thought we were of much account,” he said thirty years afterwards. The family came from South Creake, in the county of Norfolk. The name of Milton is there, with a confusion of Mitton and Milton, but not the name of John. As for the origin of these families, it was from every part of the country. It is, however, noticeable that, whereas in the fourteenth century the names of Mayor and Sheriffs in office were frequently—nay, generally—those of men who came up from their fathers’ manors young, in these lists most of them are London citizens of the second, third, and fourth generations.

Referring to the lists in the “Stow” of 1633, the following Mayors have marks of cadency on their arms. The arms, therefore, are not newly granted but hereditary:—

“Adam Bamme, 1390.Ermine, on a chief indented, sable, two trefoils, argent: an annulet for difference, being the mark of cadency for a fifth son.

John Froyshe, 1394.A fess engrailed: an annulet.

Richard Whittington, 1397.A fess checky: an annulet.

Drew Barentyn, 1397.Three eagles, displayed: an annulet.

Ralf Jocelyn, 1464.Azure, a wreath, argent and sable, with four bells, or: a mullet for difference, third son.

[Sir John] Young, 1466.Lozengy, two unicorns’ heads, erased, on a bend: an annulet.

[Sir Thomas] Mirfine, 1518.Argent, a chevron sable: a mullet, and in dexter chief a crescent: perhaps third son of a second son.

[Sir John] Bruges, 1520.Argent, a cross sable, a leopard’s face, or: a crescent.

Dodmer, 1529.A crescent.

Lambert, 1531.An annulet.

Dormer, 1541.A crescent.

Amcoates, 1548.A crescent.

White, 1553.An annulet.

Curteis, 1557.A crescent.

[Sir Thomas] Rowe, 1568.A crescent.

Ducket, 1572.A mullet.

Harvey, 1581.A crescent.

Bond, 1587.A crescent, thereon a mullet.

Calthrop, 1588.A crescent.

[Sir William] Rowe, 1592.A crescent.

Some, 1598.A crescent.”

The following have quartered coats:—

“Chalton, 1449.

Clopton, 1491.

Bradbury, 1509.

Rudstone, 1528.

Amcoates, 1548, eight coats.

Jud, 1550.

Martin, 1567.

Heyward, 1570, six coats.

Ducket, 1572.

Woodroffe, 1579.

Branche, 1580.

Osborne, 1583, three coats.

Dixie, 1585.

Barne, 1586.

Calthrop, 1588, five coats.

Heyward, 1590.

Billingsley, 1596.

Mosley, 1599.

The following is the list in full already referred to, of the nobility and gentry living in and about London in 1673. I have omitted those names whose rank was lower than that of Baronet so as not to include the City and law knights:—

Lord Berkeley of Berkeley Castle.

Lord Berkeley of Stratton.

Sir William Boyer, Bart.

The Earl of Bridgwater, Barbican.

Baron Brooke of Beauchampe Court and Hackney.

The Earl of Buckingham and Earl of Coventry.

The Earl of Burlington, Burlington House.

Clarenceaux, Knight at Arms.

The Viscount Campden, Kensington.

Sir Robert Carr, Bart.

Sir Nicholas Crisp, Bart.

Earl of Clare, Clare House, Drury Lane.

Earl of Clarendon.

Lord Clifford.

The Viscount Courtney, Clarendon Street.

Earl of Craven.

Sir John Cutler, Bart.

Earl of Devonshire, Devonshire Square.

Marquis of Dorchester, Charter-House Yard.

Earl of Dorset.

Sir Heneage Finch, Bart.

Sir Reginald Foster, Bart.

Sir F. Everard, Bart.

Lord Grey.

Sir Harbottle Grimston, Bart., Rolls.

Viscount Halifax.

Lord Hatton.

Sir William Hicks, Bart.

Earl of Holland.

Sir Francis Holles, Bart.

Sir James Langham, Bart.

Earl of Leicester.

Earl of Lindsay.

Sir Thomas Littleton, Bart.

Sir Philip Mathews.

Viscount Mordaunt.

The Earl of Mulgrave.

Sir Herbert Price, Bart.

The Earl of Salisbury, Salisbury House.

Sir John Shaw, Bart.

Sir William Smith, Bart.

Viscount Stafford.

The Earl of Thanet at Thanet House, Aldersgate Street.

Sir Robert Vyner, Bart.

The Earl of Warwick, Holborn.

Sir Jervis Whitchott, Bart.

Sir William Wild, Bart.

Sir Thomas Wolstenholme, Bart.

The Earl of Worcester, Worcester House.

The freedom from taxation of certain privileged classes was a fruitful cause of quarrel and annoyance. Barristers who lived in the Four Inns of Court and in Serjeant’s Inn were exempt from taxation on account of chambers. The same privilege was extended to residents in Doctors’ Commons and residents in the precincts of Blackfriars and Whitefriars, who were also exempt from fifteenths and from the burdens of watch and ward, except charges for defence of the State, for pavement and clearing within the precinct, and except freemen of the City, who continued to be liable to the City charges.

A City office long discontinued was that of Chronologer. In the Analytical Index to Remembrancia (Guildhall) we have the following notes:—

It may not be considered uninteresting to give a list of the names of the different holders of this peculiar office, some of whom, as Thomas Middleton, Ben Johnson, and Francis Quarles, are otherwise known to fame, with some few particulars from the Civic Records concerning them.

1620, September 6, 18th James I.—Thomas Middleton, admitted City Chronologer. Item, this day was read in Court (of Aldermen) a petition of Thomas Middleton, Gent., and upon consideration thereof taken, and upon the sufficient testimony this Court hath received of his services performed to this City, this Court is well pleased to entertain and admit the said Thomas Middleton to collect and set down all memorable acts of this City and occurrences thereof, and for such other employments as this Court shall have occasion to use him in; but the said Thomas Middleton is not to put any of the acts so by him to be collected into print without the allowance and approbation of this Court, and for the readiness of his service to the City in the same employments this Court does order that he shall receive from henceforth, out of the Chamber of London, a yearly fee of £6:13:4.

1620, November 20, 18th James I.—His salary increased to £10 per annum.

1621, April 17, 19th James I.—A freedom granted to Thomas Middleton, Chronologer and inventor of honourable entertainments for this City, towards his expenses.

1622, May 7, 20th James I.—Another freedom granted to him for his better encouragement in his labours.

1622, September 17, 20th James I.—£15 granted to him for the like.

1622 (3), February 6, 20th James I.—£20 granted to him.

1623, April 24, 21st James I.—One freedom granted to him.

1623, September 2, 21st James I.—Twenty marks given him for his services at the shooting on Bunhill and at the Conduit Head before the Lord Mayor and Aldermen.

1627, February 7, 3rd Charles I.—Twenty nobles given to his widow Magdalen.

1628, September 2, 4th Charles I.—Item, this day Benjamin Johnson, Gent., is by this Court admitted to be the City’s Chronologer in place of Mr. Thomas Middleton, deceased, to have, hold, exercise, and enjoy the same place, and to have and receive for that his service, out of the Chamber of London, the sum of one hundred nobles per annum, to continue during the pleasure of this Court.

1631, November 2, 7th Charles I.—Item, it is ordered by this Court that Mr. Chamberlain shall forbear to pay any more fee or wages unto Benjamin Johnson, the City’s Chronologer, until we shall have presented unto this Court some fruits of his labours in that his place.

1634, September 18, 10th Charles I.—Item, this day Mr. Recorder and Sir (Hugh) Hamersley, Knight, Alderman, declared unto this Court His Majesty’s pleasure, signified unto them by the Right Hon. the Earl of Dorset, for and in the behalf of Benjamin Johnson, the City Chronologer, whereupon it is ordered by this Court that his yearly pension of 100 nobles out of the Chamber of London shall be continued, and that Mr. Chamberlain shall satisfy and pay unto him all arrearages thereof.

1639, February 1, 15th Charles I.—At the request of the Right Hon. the Earl of Dorset, signified by his letter, Francis Quarles, Gent., was admitted Chronologer. with a fee of 100 nobles per annum, during the pleasure of the Court.

1645, October 1, 20th Charles I.—Walter Frost, Esq., Sword-bearer, admitted Chronologer, so long as he shall well demean himself therein and present yearly something of his labours.

1660, February 28, 13th Charles II.—Captain John Burroughs admitted City Chronologer, the place having been void for several years, his salary to be 100 nobles per annum.

1668, November 23, 20th Charles II.—Upon the recommendation of a Committee, the yearly payment of 100 nobles to one Bradshaw, called the City Chronologer, was discontinued with the place, there appearing no occasion for such an officer.

1669, February 24, 22nd Charles II.—On the petition of Cornewall Bradshaw, Gent., late City Chronologer, for some recompense for his salary of £33:6:8, taken from him by vote of the Court (Common Council), it was ordered that, upon his resigning his said place, the Chamberlain should pay him £100 in full of all claims.

1669, March 17, 22nd Charles II.—Bradshaw (admitted in the Mayoralty of Sir T. Bludworth, 1665–6, as City Chronologer) surrendered his office, with all its rights, etc., and a freedom was given to him (Index to Remembrancia, pp. 305, 306).

Between 1583 and 1661 there were continual efforts made to restrain the building of new houses in the City and the erection of small tenements. The Lords of the Council pressed on the Mayor the duty of enforcing the laws. The Mayor replied that there were many places in the City that pretended to be exempt from the jurisdiction of the City; notably the sites of the old monasteries. One result of this activity was the driving of the poorer sort outside the City Liberties altogether, especially along the river side. Owing to this cause Southwark began to enjoy an influx of the least desirable of the population. This distinction the Borough has ever since continued to possess. The same cause built the courts and created the slums of Westminster.

The attempt to restrain the increase of London should have been accompanied by an enlargement of the City jurisdiction. Had this been done, many of the evils attendant on a rapid growth of population with no corresponding powers of justice and police might have been avoided.

The necessity of cleaning and keeping clean the streets was very much to the front after the scare of the Plague and the Fire. There were projects advanced by ingenious persons for this purpose. Thus one Daniel Nis laid a plan before the King, who sent it on to the Lord Mayor for consideration. He wanted, apparently, to raise the footpath on either side to a “convenient height, evenness, and decency, leaving ample passage for coaches, carts, and horses, and reserving a competent part to be made even and easy in a far more elegant and commodious manner for the convenience of foot passengers, besides a handsome accommodation of water for the continual cleansing of the streets by lead pipes.”

Daniel Nis was before his age, but one feels that when such projects are in the air, reform and improvement are at hand. Unfortunately projectors of this kind never understand the practical side of the question. Now the streets of a great city cannot be revolutionised all at once; no city is rich enough to undertake such a reform; the only thing possible is a gradual reform, taking the most important streets first. And this, in fact, was the way adopted in the City and carried on from the Great Fire to our own time.

If we go into the unreformed streets we find the kites and crows still acting as the principal scavengers, the bye-streets unpaved and unlighted—that is to say, not yet even paved with cobbles, but left quite untouched with puddles of liquid filth standing about; there were also masterless dogs by the hundred who devoured the offal.

The regulations for the standing of carts were of very early date. Standings were fixed in Tower Street and on Tower Hill in 1479. It must be remembered that most of the streets in the City were too narrow for the passage of wheeled vehicles; it was therefore necessary to regulate the traffic in the streets wide enough for carts to pass. Such Acts were passed and altered in 1586, 1605, 1654, 1658, 1661, 1665, 1667, and 1681. The last Act for licensing and regulating carts was passed in 1838. The Woodmongers’ Company at one time had the management of the carts. In 1605, when Christ’s Hospital had charge of the carts, a single cart was taxed 13s. 4d. a year, together with 4s. for quarterage and no more. The whole number of carts allowed was 400, viz. 100 for Southwark, 200 in the skirts of the City, and 100 in the wood wharves.

The watchmen carried bells, not rattles; they rang them as they went along to announce their coming; the thieves in this way secured timely warning and got themselves into safe hiding. But Cosmo, Duke of Tuscany, who came here in 1669, says that the streets were orderly, well lit by lanterns, and that the citizens were not afraid to go about without swords.

Such squares as then existed, as Lincoln’s Inn Fields, had taken the place of Smithfield as a place of public resort. They were now laid out in three separate fields; these were surrounded by mulberry-trees. It was a common complaint that in summer evenings after work was over ballad singers stationed themselves at every street corner and bawled their songs to an admiring and a listening crowd, that their songs were coarse and lewd—perhaps it is the Puritan minister who complains,—and that young girls stood among the audience listening and laughing.

In 1618 the chimney-sweepers sent a petition to Sir Robert Naunton stating that householders generally neglected to get their chimneys swept, to the great danger of fire and the starvation of their kind, 200 in number; and they prayed that the citizens might be compelled to have their chimneys swept at proper times, and that an overseer should be appointed to look after this duty. The Lord Mayor reported that it was unnecessary to appoint another overseer, because there were already officers annually sworn to inspect chimneys. So nothing more is heard of the chimney-sweep and his grievances.

The subject of the City laystalls is unsavoury. But the removal of waste matter is always a trouble in every town. In 1670 orders were made for laystalls to be established at various points. It must be understood that all kinds of rubbish, ordure, decaying vegetables, etc., were shot out upon the laystall; when it was near the river the contents were from time to time shovelled out into the ebb tide. The following is the list of the laystalls as appointed in 1670:—

The Radical root-and-branch reformer is not unknown in every age. I have before me a pamphlet written by such an one in the year 1675. It will be seen that he advocates a thorough reform or rather a return to the former conditions. I quote a portion only of the pamphlet. Among other things the writer proposes—

(1) That a stop be put to any new buildings in London, or within the bills of mortality.

(2) That the nobility and gentry of the country be compelled to reside so many months in the year on their estates.

(3) That brandy, music, coffee, and tea be prohibited, and coffee-houses suppressed.

(4) That the multitude of stage coaches and caravans now on the roads be all, or most of them, suppressed.

(5) That a Court of Conscience should be established in Westminster and in every important town.

(6) That the extravagant wages of craftsmen should be reduced. The writer proceeds to advance his reasons for these proposals. For instance, the abundance of new houses tempts people to come up from the country in order to establish ale or brandy shops or to let lodgings; it also tempts the gentry to leave their estates and to live in London.

As to the prohibition of brandy, it is stated that brandy was so cheap, a quartern being sold for threepence, that the people drink spirits instead of strong beer and ale. (This is the first complaint of spirit drinking.) Whereas, if the sale of brandy were prohibited, there would be so great an increase in the consumption of barley required for beer that the farmers would rise from their impoverished condition and be once more able to pay their rents. “Brandy,” he says, “burns out the hearts of his Majesty’s subjects.” It is not generally understood, I think, that there were complaints on the subject of brandy before the introduction of its cheaper and more destructive rival—gin.

He would suppress tea, coffee, and chocolate for the simple reason that he does not understand that they do any good to anybody, and he would shut the coffee-houses because he believes them to be mischievous places:—

“And for coffee, tea, and chocolate, I know no good they do; only the places where they are sold are convenient for persons to meet in, sit half a day, and discourse with all companies that come in, of state-matters, talking of news, and broaching of lies; arraigning the judgments and discretions of their own governors, censuring all their actions, and insinuating into the people a prejudice against them; extolling and magnifying their own parts, knowledge, and wisdom, and decrying that of their rulers, which, if suffered too long, may prove pernicious and destructive. But say there was nothing of this in the case, yet have these coffee-houses done great mischiefs to the nation, and undone many of the king’s subjects; for they, being very great enemies to diligence and industry, have been the ruin of many serious and hopeful young gentlemen and tradesmen, who, before they frequented these places, were diligent students or shopkeepers, extraordinary husbands of their time as well as money” (see also p. 292).

Granted a case against tea and coffee, what can be said against the stage coach? A great deal. Stage coaches destroy the breed of good horses, make men careless of horsemanship, and make them effeminate and afraid of cold, rain, and snow (for further on this subject see p. 338).

The crime of crimping—that is, inveigling or forcing young fellows to enter into service in the plantations—became very common in this century. It caused trouble in many ways. First, a man was encouraged to get drunk, and on recovering was told that he had enlisted, or he was knocked on the head and carried aboard, or he voluntarily enlisted and afterwards repented. In all these cases the victims complained on reaching Virginia that they had been betrayed or trapped, and they sent home sworn statements, with instructions to their friends, to indict the merchants for crimping and ensnaring them.

These complaints became so numerous that rules were laid down for the enrolment of these servants, and if the rules were obeyed, the merchants were assured that there should be no prosecution:—

“I. Such servants as are to be taken by Indenture, to be executed by the servant, in the presence of the magistrate or magistrates hereafter appointed: one part thereof signed by such servant, and also underwritten or endorsed with the name and handwriting of such magistrate, which is to remain with the clerk of the Peace to be renewed to the next sessions, there to be filed upon a distinct file, and numbered and kept with the records.

II. The Clerk of the Peace is to keep a fair book, wherein the name of the person so bound, and the magistrate’s name before whom the same was done, and the time and place of doing thereof, and the number of the file shall be entred; and for the more easie finding the same, the entris are to be made alphabetically, according to the first letter of the sirname.

III. All persons above the age of one and twenty years, or who shall, upon view and examination, appear to be so in the judgment of the magistrate, may be bound in the presence of one Justice of the Peace, or of the Mayor or chief Magistrate of the place where they shall go on shipboard, who is to be fully satisfied from him of his free and voluntary agreement to enter into the said service.

IV. If any person be under the age of one and twenty years, or shall appear to be so, he shall be bound in the presence of the Lord Mayor of London, or one of the Judges, or an Alderman of London, being a Justice of the Peace, or the Recorder, or two Justices of the Peace of any other county or place, who shall carefully examine whether the person so to be bound have any parents or masters; and if he be not free they are not to take such indenture, unless the parents or masters give their consents, and some person that knows the said servant to be of the name and addition mentioned in the indenture is to assist his said knowledge upon the said indenture.

V. If the person be under the age of fourteen years, unless his parents shall be present, and consent, he is not to be carried on shipboard till a fortnight at least after he becomes bound, to the intent that if there be any abuse, it may be discovered before he is transported. And where his parents do not appear before the magistrate, notice is to be sent to them; or where they cannot be found, to the churchwardens, overseers of the parish where he was last settled, in such manner as the said magistrates shall think fit and direct.

And because Clerks of the Peace may conceive this not to be any part of the duty of their office, and may therefore exact unreasonable rewards for their trouble and pains therein, his Majesty doth declare that if any merchants or other persons shall be aggrieved thereby, and upon complaint to the Justices cannot obtain relief, his Majesty will take such further care for their ease herein, as in his royal wisdom he shall think meet.

And his Majestie’s further pleasure is, that this order be printed and published, to the end all persons whom it may concern may take notice thereof, and govern themselves accordingly.”

Here is a very curious note concerning a custom long since forgotten. Before the discovery and importation of Indian nitre, saltpetre was manufactured from animal matter. This stuff was piled in heaps, protected from rain, and watered with stable runnings. Men called saltpetre-men were employed in collecting earth thus impregnated, and were by Act of Parliament (1624) authorised to dig up the floors of stables and any other places where this saturated earth might be found. So important was the manufacture that no dove-house or stable was permitted to be paved. The appearance of the saltpetre-man and his asserted right of digging up and carrying off the earth under stables became a grievance, against which remonstrance was in vain so long as the civil wars lasted. In 1656, however, it was enacted that no saltpetre-man should dig without permission of the householder.

During the seventeenth century the ’prentices, as we have seen, became of greater importance than ever; in the eighteenth their power declined. For instance, when in 1643 it was feared that Charles would march on the City, the ’prentices turned out in great force to fortify the entrances and roads all round the City. Four years later they turned out on strike, meeting in Covent Garden, then an open space, in order to compel their masters to give them back the old holidays of which the Puritans had deprived them. These were especially Christmas, with its days of merriment and minstrelsy, Good Friday, Easter Monday, and, I think, Whit Monday. Perhaps the Puritans had also deprived them of Queen Elizabeth’s Day. On Shrove Tuesday the ’prentices demolished, if they could find any, houses of ill fame. Their keepers were locked up in prison during the whole of Lent. This zeal for virtue on the part of the London ’prentice becomes a thing of suspicion when one reads The English Rogue. Perhaps it was a custom ordered and maintained by the masters. I conclude this chapter with the history of one of them. It will be seen that the lot of a ’prentice was not always the happiest or the most desirable. The following notes are taken from the autobiography of one of them, a scrivener’s printer, named F. K. To begin with, he was very fond of reading. While he was still a boy he read The Friar and the Boy, The Seven Wise men of Rome, Fortunatus, Doctor Faustus, Friar Bacon, Montelion Knight of the Oracle, Parismus, Palmerin of England, Amadis de Gaul. The boy procured the latter in French, and for the sake of reading it, taught himself French, and made a French dictionary for himself. As he could not afford to buy paper, he cut pages from the middle of the other boys’ copybooks, and, being found out, received a very sound and well-deserved flogging.

When he was sixteen he was apprenticed to a scrivener for eight years’ servitude, his father paying £30 and giving a bond for £100 as a guarantee of the boy’s honesty.

His master had already two apprentices. It was the custom that the youngest apprentice should do, so to speak, the dirty work; but in this case the master had a son who was shortly afterwards apprenticed, and should, in his turn, have taken the lowest place; but by right of his position in the family he was spared this ignominy, and so the writer continued the drudge of the whole household as long as he remained in the house. Apart from his work in the shop, where he had to write out deeds, conveyances, etc.,—the scrivener’s profession exercising much the same functions as those now undertaken by the solicitor,—he says, “I was to make clean the Shooes, carry out the Ashes and Dust, sweep the Shop, cleanse the Sink, (and a long nasty one it was), draw the Beer, at washing times to fetch up Coals and Kettles; these were the within doors employs, and abroad I was to go of all errands, and carry all burthens. I dispensed with all these matters, being told thereof by my Father and Mother before I came, wherefore I was content, and did undergo all very willingly, till I had served about three years, and then being grown up to some maturity and understanding, I began to grumble. I had Money given me which I always laid out in purchasing of Books, especially such as treated of Knight Errantry, or else in buying somewhat to make me fine, and Money coming in pretty plentiful, I had bought me a very good Suit of Cloaths to wear by the by; and withal, being desirous to appear in everything like a gentleman, I had a Watch for my Pocket; being thus accoutred, I sometimes went abroad with our Neighbour Apprentices and others, and being thus fine, it troubled me that I must still carry Burthens, for whoever went empty, my Mistress would still take care that I had my Load to carry Working-day and Sunday from our London to our Countrey-house, and rather than I should want a Burthen, I was to carry earthen Pots and Pans and Ox Livers, and Bones for the Dog. This I grumbled at, and when I have bin seriously a drawing Writings in the Shop and studying and contriving how to order my Covenants the best way, a greasy Kitchin-wench would come and disturb me with one of her Errants, and tell me I must fetch a farthing worth of Mustard, or a pint of Vinegar, or some such mechanical story; nay, my Mistress hath sent me for a Pint of Purl, which when she hath warmed and tasted of, and not liked, I must carry it again to change it. And I being the youngest Apprentice was to be commanded by every one; the two eldest would appoint what I was to do in the Shop, and the Kitchin-wench would, when she pleased, command me into the Kitchin, so that I must be here and there and everywhere; and above all things, I must humor and please the Maid, or else she would pick Holes in my Coat, and tell Tales of me to my Mistress, who would not let me live a quiet hour” (The Unlucky Citizen, pp. 35–37).

Presently, having served for three years, and being now nineteen years of age, he complained to his father:—

“But I was little the better for it; for no sooner was I come into my Master’s House, but he seeing me, enters his Closet, from whence fetches a lusty Battoon Cane (the ordinary Weapon with which I was used to be disciplined), and without by your leave, or with your Leave, he takes me by the hand, and lifting up his Sword Arm like a Fencer, he gives me a lusty Thwack over the Shoulders, and without any warning given, not so much as the least word of Defyance, that I might know his anger, or the cause of it, he follows that blow by a second and a third, and many more, so fast and so long as he could lay on, till he, being out of breath, was forced to give over, and then so soon as he had recovered the use of his Tongue, he thus breaks silence, ‘Sirrah, I’le teach you to run and make complaints to your Father.’ I now having heard him speak, knew whereabouts he was, but methought the News was strange and sudden, and somewhat I began to mutter, but my Tale would not be heard; he prosecuted his business with the Second Part to the same Tune, both upon my Sides and Shoulders till he was again weary, and then there being a cessation of Arms, down I sate me, not daring to speak a word; but though I said nothing, yet I paid it with thinking, but all to little purpose; he was Master, and I found so he would continue” (The Unlucky Citizen, pp. 43, 44).

A master at that time had a perfect right to beat his servants; nor does the writer complain, except that there was, perhaps, too much laid on. It will be remembered that the wife of Pepys caned her maids. F. K., however, does point out the vile treatment of apprentices by some of their masters, and their advantage in it:—

“And let me tell you that I have observed and known that some Citizens have much encreased their Estates by taking many Apprentices, for perhaps having fifty pounds or more with an Apprentice, and being very severe and rigid, the boy hath been so hardly used, that he hath run away within a year, and rather than return again, lose all his Money. I knew one that served eight so, one after another, and in three or four years, by this means, gained four hundred pounds for their diet, which they likewise earned, causing them to work like Porters, so that I think they paid dear enough for it; they had been better to have been boarded at the costliest Boarding-school in England; and besides the loss of the Money, there was a worse inconvenience, for the Apprentice hath been quite spoiled, so harassed and frighted, that he hath not been fit for any other service, and for the sake of his first Master, would not be perswaded to go to any other” (The Unlucky Citizen, pp. 144, 145).

After being taken from this master and transferred to another, who turned him out of the house for betraying confidence, F. K. was set up in business by his father, opening a small scrivener’s shop on Tower Hill. If his bad luck through life was like his bad luck as an apprentice, it was due to his own folly and stupidity. For instance, he says that he was arrested a few days after he was married, for his wedding clothes. Why, then, did he not pay for them? And so on. But we need not follow the Unlucky Citizen any farther.

The Sumptuary Laws against Apprentices so stringently enacted in the preceding century were still in force, and a youth who dared to array himself in finery other than befitted his craft, ran the risk of being forcibly despoiled of his ribbons and adornments and being reduced to a severe simplicity of apparel.

Here is a glimpse of life furnished by Howell when he placed his two younger brothers apprentices in the City:—

“Our two younger Brothers, which you sent hither, are disposed of; my Brother Doctor hath placed the elder of the two with Mr. Hawes, a Mercer in Cheapside, and he took much Pains in it; and I had placed my Brother Ned with Mr. Barrington, a Silk-man in the same Street; but afterwards, for some inconveniences, I removed him to one Mr. Smith, at the Flower de luce in Lombard Street, a Mercer also. Their Masters both of them are very well to pass, and of good repute; I think it will prove some advantage to them hereafter to be both of one Trade; because, when they are out of their time, they may join Stocks together; so that I hope they are as well placed as any two Youths in London; but you must not use to send them such large Tokens in Money, for that may corrupt them. When I went to bind my brother Ned Apprentice in Drapers-Hall, casting my eyes upon the Chimney-piece of the great Room, I spied a Picture of an ancient Gentlemen, and underneath Thomas Howell; I asked the Clerk about him, and he told me that he was a Spanish Merchant in Henry VIII.’s time, and coming home rich, and dying a Batchelor, he gave that Hall to the Company of Drapers, with other things, so that he is accounted one of the chiefest Benefactors. I told the Clerk, that one of the Sons of Thomas Howell came now thither to be bound; he answered, that if he be a right Howell, he may have, when he is free, three hundred Pounds to help set up, and pay no interest for five years. It may be hereafter we will make use of this. He told me also, that any Maid that can prove her Father to be a true Howell may come and demand Fifty pounds towards her portion, of the said Hall.”

The chapter on trade under the Stuarts may be introduced by certain extracts from a paper written by Sir Walter Raleigh early in the seventeenth century. It was called “Observations on Trade and Commerce,” in which he compares the Dutch trade and Dutch merchants with our own, very much to our disadvantage. The following, he says, are the seven points in which the Dutch surpass us:—

“1. The Merchant Staplers which maketh all Things in abundance, by reason of their Store-houses continually replenished with all kinds of Commodities.

2. The Liberty of free Traffick for Strangers to buy and sell in Holland, and other Countries and States, as if they were free-born, maketh great intercourse.

3. The small Duties levied upon Merchants, draws all Nations to trade with them.

4. Their fashioned ships continually freighted before ours, by reason of their few Mariners and great Bulk, serving the Merchant cheap.

5. Their forwardness to further all manner of Trading.

6. Their wonderful employment of their Busses for Fishing, and the great Returns they make.

7. Their giving free Custom inwards and outwards, for any new-erected Trade, by Means whereof they have gotten already almost the sole Trade into their hands.”

“Thus,” he goes on, “as regards the storing of merchandize, Amsterdam is never without a supply of 700,000 quarters of corn, which they keep always ready besides what they sell; and the like with other commodities, so that if a Dearth of Fish, wine, grain, or anything else begins in the country, forthwith the Dutch are ready with fifty or a hundred ships dispersing themselves at every ‘Port-Town’ in England, trading away their cargoes and carrying off English gold. Moreover, the Dutch have in their hands the greater part of the carrying trade of France, Portugal, Spain, Italy, Turkey, the East Indies, and the West Indies. Yet London is a much more convenient port for a store-house and for the carrying trade if our merchants would but bend their course for it.”

As for small duties in foreign countries compared with the excessive customs in ours. James, it will be remembered, relied on his Customs duties, which were heavy, thereby keeping off foreign trade. In Holland the Customs duties were so much lighter that a ship which would pay £900 in the port of London could be cleared at Amsterdam for £50. Raleigh points out that what is lost by lowering the duties is more than made up by the increase of trade when the duties are low. He advocates Free Trade, observe, long before that innovation was thought of.

By the “fashion” of the ships he means the Dutch merchant vessels called “Boyers, Hoy-barks, and Hoys,” constructed to contain a great bulk of merchandise and to sail with a small crew. Thus an English ship of 200 tons required a crew of thirty hands, while a ship of the same tonnage built in Holland wanted no more than nine or ten mariners.