CHAPTER I
HENRY II

[In considering the reigning Kings in order, I have found it necessary to reserve for the chapters on the MediÆval Government of the City the Charters successively granted to the Citizens, and their meaning.]

The accession of the young King, then only three-and-twenty years of age, brought to the City as well as to the Country, a welcome period of rest and peace and prosperity. These precious gifts were secured by the ceaseless watchfulness of the King, whose itinerary shows that he was a most unwearied traveller, with a determined purpose and a bulldog tenacity. From the outset he gave the whole nation, barons and burgesses, to understand that he meant to be King. To begin with, he ordered all aliens to depart. The land and the City were full of them; they were known by their gait as well as their speech; the good people of London looked about the streets, the day after the proclamation of exile, for these unwelcome guests, whose violence they had endured so long. They were gone “as though they had been phantoms,” Holinshed writes. During his long reign, 1154-1189, Henry, who seldom stayed in one place more than a few days, was in London or Westminster on twenty-seven occasions, but in many of them for a day or two only. These occasions were in March 1155; in April 1157; in March, July, and October 1163; in April and September 1164; in September and October 1165; in April and June 1170; in July 1174; in May, August, and October 1175; in March and May 1176; in March and April 1177; in July 1178; in August, November, and December 1186; in March 1185; in June 1186, and in June 1188. And all these visits together amounted to less than three months in thirty-five years. We may note that Henry held his first Christmas at Bermondsey, not at Westminster. One asks in vain what reason there was for holding the Court at a monastic house in the middle of a marsh, much more difficult of access than that of Westminster. It was here that it was decided that the Flemings, who had flocked over during the last reign, should leave the country. Among them was William of Ypres whom Stephen had made Earl of Kent. We hear very little of the King’s personal relations with the citizens, by whom he was respected as befits one of whom it is written that he was “pitiful to the poor, liberal to all men, that he took of his subjects but seldom times any great tributes, and, further, that he was careful above all things to have the laws duly executed and justice uprightly administered on all hands.”

In the year 1170 Henry II. had his eldest son Henry crowned King; but the “Young King,” as he was called, never lived to occupy his father’s place; after a career of rebellion he died of a fever in 1183.

Henry’s Charter gave the citizens privileges and liberties as large as those granted by Henry I.—with one or two important exceptions. The opening clause in the former Charter was as follows:—

“Know ye that I have granted to my citizens of London to hold Middlesex to farm for three hundred pounds upon accompt to them and their heirs: so that the said citizens shall place as sheriff whomsoever they will of themselves: and as Justiciar whomsoever they will of themselves, for keeping of the pleas of the crown, and of the pleadings of the same, and none other shall be justice over the same men of London.”

Except for a few years in the twelfth century the sheriffs were always elected by the Crown. In the reign of Stephen the citizens are said to have bought the right of electing their sheriffs. The omission of so important a clause indicates the policy of the King. It was his intention to bring the City under the direct supervision of the Crown. He therefore retained the appointment of the sheriff in his own hands; he calls him “my sheriff,” meus Vicecomes; and it was so kept by himself and his successor Richard the First. When John restored to the City the election of the sheriff, the post had lost much of its importance because the communal system of municipal government had been introduced under a mayor. Thanks mainly to the strong hand of the King, who enforced peace and order throughout the country, the prosperity of London greatly increased during his reign. As yet the City was governed by its aristocracy, the aldermen of the wards, which were at first manors or private estates. They endeavoured to rule the City as a baron ruled his people each in his own ward: there was, however, the Folk Mote to be reckoned with. The people understood what was meant by meeting and by open discussion: the right of combination was but a corollary.

It is at this time that we first hear of the licences of guilds. We may take it as a sign of prosperity when men of the same craft begin to unite themselves into corporate bodies, and to form rules for the common interest.

In the year 1180 it is recorded that a number of Guilds formed without licence were fined:—

“The Gild whereof Gosceline was Alderman or President, thirty marks; Gilda Aurifabrorum, or Goldsmiths, Radulphus Flael, Alderman, forty-five marks; Gilda de Holiwell, Henry son of Godr. Alderman, twenty shillings; Gilda Bocheiorum, William la Feite, Alderman, one mark; Gilda de Ponte Thomas Cocus, Alderman, one mark; Gilda Piperariorum, Edward——, Alderman, sixteen marks; Gilda de Ponte, Alwin Fink, Alderman, fifteen marks; Gilda Panariorum, John Maurus, Alderman, one mark; Robert Rochefolet, his Gild, one mark; Richard Thedr. Feltrarius, Alderman, two marks; Gilda de Sancto Lazaro, Radulph de Barre, Alderman, twenty-five marks; Gilda de Ponte, Robert de Bosio, Alderman, ten marks; Gilda Peregrinorum, Warner le Turner, Alderman, forty shillings; Odo Vigil, Alderman, his Gild, one mark; Hugo Leo, Alderman, his Gild, one mark; and Gilda de Ponte, Peter, son of Alan, Alderman, fifteen marks.” (Maitland, vol. i. p. 53.)

If there were unlicensed guilds, there must have been licensed guilds. Unfortunately it is not known how many, or of what kind, these were. Among them, however, was the important and powerful Guild of Weavers, who were at that time to London what the “drapiers” were to Ypres in Flanders. (See p. 201.)

It is sufficient to note the claim of the King to license every guild. As for the fining of the unlicensed guild, since the business of a guild is the regulation of trade, one would like to know how trade was regulated when there was no guild. But enough of this matter for the present.

In this reign occurs an early instance of heresy obstinate unto death. The heretics came over from Germany. There were thirty of them, men and women. They called themselves Publicans; one of them, their leader, Gerard, had some learning: the rest were ignorant. They derided matrimony, the Sacraments of Baptism, the Lord’s Supper, and other articles. Being brought before the King, they were pressed with Scripture, “but stuck manfully to their faith and refused to be convinced.” It was therefore ordered that they should be burned with a hot iron on the forehead, and the leader on the chin as well, that they should be whipped, that they should be thrust out into the fields and that none should give them food, or fire, or lodging; which was done, the sufferers singing all the time, “Blessed are ye when men do hate you”—and so they went out into the open country, where they all died of cold and starvation. A pitiful story!

Here is a strange story told by Stow. It is a good deal amplified from that given by Roger of Hoveden, but perhaps Stow obtained more material from other authorities also:—

“A brother of the Earle Ferrers was in the night privily slayne at London, which when the King understoode, he sware that he would bee avenged on the Citizens: for it was then a common practice in the Citie, and an hundred or more in a company of young and old, would make nightly invasions upon the houses of the wealthie, to the intent to robbe them, and if they found any man stirring in the Citie within the night, they would presently murther him, in so much, that when night was come, no man durst adventure to walke in the Streetes. When this had continued long, it fortuned that a crewe of young and wealthy Cittizens assembling together in the night, assaulted a stone house of a certaine rich manne, and breaking through the wall, the good man of that house having prepared himselfe with other in a corner, when he perceived one of the Theeves named Andrew Bucquinte to leade the way, with a burning brand in the one hand and a pot of coales in the other, whiche he assayed to kindle with the brande, hee flew upon him, and smote off his right hande, and then with a lowde voyce cryed Theeves, at the hearing whereof the Theeves tooke their flight, all saving hee that had lost his hande, whom the good man in the next morning delivered to Richarde de Lucy the King’s Justice. This Theefe uppon warrant of his life, appeached his confederates, of whome many were taken, and many were fled, but among the rest that were apprehended, a certaine Citizen of great countenance, credite, and wealth, surnamed Iohn the olde,1 when he could not acquite himselfe by the Watardome, offered the King for his life five hundred Marks, but the King commanded that he shoulde be hanged, which was done, and the Citie became more quiet.” (Howe’s edition of Stow’s Chronicles, p. 153.)

Here, then, is a case in which the ordeal by water was thought to prove a man’s guilt. In another place will be found described the method of the ordeal by water. What happened was, of course, that the unfortunate man’s arm was scalded. However, the City became quiet, which was some gain.

In the year 1164 London Bridge was “new made of timber” by Peter of Colechurch, who afterwards built it of stone.

In the year 1176 the stone bridge over the river was commenced. It was not completed until 1209, after the death of the architect.

Henry I. had punished the moneyers for their base coin. Henry II. also had to punish them for the same offence, but he chose a method perhaps more effective. He fined them.

The relations of Thomas À Becket with the King: their friendship and their quarrels and the tragic end of the Archbishop, belong to the history of the country. It does concern this book, however, that Thomas was by birth a Londoner. His father, Gilbert, whose family came from Caen, was a citizen of good position, chief magistrate, or portreeve, in the reign of Stephen. Gilbert Becket was remembered in the City not only by the history of his illustrious son, but by the fact that it was he who built the chapel in the Pardon Churchyard, on the north side of St. Paul’s, a place where many persons of honour were buried. It was ever the mediÆval custom to make one place more sacred than another, so that if it was a blessed thing to be buried in a certain church, it was more blessed to lie in front of the altar. The old story about Gilbert’s wife being a Syrian is repeated by the historians, and is very possibly true. Holinshed says she was a “Saracen by religion,” which is certainly not true. Thomas Becket was born in wedlock; his father was certainly not married to a Mohammedan, and the birthplace of the future martyr was in a house on the site of the present Mercers’ Chapel, which itself stands on the site of the chapel of St. Thomas of Acon.

Gilbert Becket died leaving behind him a considerable property in houses and lands. Whether the archbishop took possession of this property as his father’s son, or whether he gave it to his sister, I do not know. Certain it is that after his death his sister Agnes, then married to Thomas Fitz Theobald de Heiley, gave the whole of the family estates to endow a Hospital dedicated to her brother Saint and Martyr. Nothing should be kept back: all—all must be given: one sees the intensity of affection, sorrow, pride, with which the new Saint was regarded by his family. There could be no worshipper at the altar of St. Thomas À Becket more devout than his own sister. (See also p. 278.)

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CHAPTER II
RICHARD I

The coronation of King Richard on September 3, 1189, was disgraced by a massacre of the Jews—the first example of anti-Jewish feeling. Perhaps when they first came over these unfortunate people hoped that no traditional hatred of the race existed in England. Experience, alas! might have taught them, perhaps had taught them, that hatred grew up round the footsteps of the Infidel as quickly as the thistles in the field. When the Jew arrived in England what could he do? He could not trade because the merchants had their guilds; and every guild had its church, its saint, its priests, its holy days. He could not hold land because every acre had its own lord, and could only be transferred by an Act including a declaration of faith; he could not become a lawyer or a physician because the avenues to these professions lay also through the Church. Did a man wish to build a bridge, he must belong to the Holy Brotherhood of Bridge-Builders—Pontifices. Was an architect wanted, he was looked for in a Monastery. The scholars, the physicians, the artists were men of the cloister. Even the minstrels, gleemen, jugglers, tumblers, dancers, buffoons, and mimes, though the Church did not bless their calling, would have scorned to suffer a Jew among them. That was the position of the Jew. Every calling closed to him, every door shut. There was, however, one way open, but a way of contempt, a way accursed by the Church, a way held impossible to the Christian. He might practise usury. The lending of money for profit was absolutely forbidden by the Church. He who carried on this business was accounted as excommunicated. If he died while carrying it on, his goods were forfeited and fell to the Crown. In the matter of usury the Church had always been firm and consistent. The Church, through one or two of the Fathers, had even denounced trade. St. Augustine plainly said that in selling goods no addition was to be made to the price for which they were bought, a method which if carried out would destroy all trade except barter. So that while the usurer was accursed by the Church, to the King he became a large and very valuable asset. Every Jew who became rich, by his death enriched the King. It was calculated (see Joseph Jacobs, The Jews of Angevin England) that the Jews contributed every year one-twelfth of the King’s revenues. The interest charged by the usurer was in those days enormously high, forty per cent and even more: so that it is easy to understand how rich a Jew might become and how strong would be the temptation to squeeze him.

As for the hatred of the people for the Jews, I think that it had nothing whatever to do with their money-lending, for the simple reason that they had no dealings with them. The common people never borrowed money of the Jews, because they had no security to offer and no want of money except for their daily bread. Those who borrowed of the Jews were the Barons, who strengthened or repaired or rebuilt their castles; the Bishop, who wanted to carry on his cathedral or to build a church; the Abbot, who had works to execute upon the monastery estates, or a church to beautify. The great Lords of the Church and the Realm were the borrowers; and we do not find that they murdered the Jews. The popular hatred was purely religious. The Jew was an unbeliever: when no one was looking at him he spat upon the Cross; when he dared he kidnapped children and crucified them; he it was who crucified our Lord, and would do so again if he could. Why, the King was going off to the East to kill infidels, and here were infidels at home. Why not begin by killing them first? So the people reasoned, quite logically, on these premisses.

To return to the coronation of Richard I. For fear of magic it was ordered that no Jew and no woman should be allowed admission to the Abbey Church during the function. Unfortunately, the Jews, hoping to conciliate the new Sovereign with gifts, assembled outside the gates and endeavoured to gain admission. It was always characteristic of the Jews, especially in times of persecution, that they never in the least understood the intensity of hatred with which they were regarded by the world. One would think that on such an occasion common prudence would have kept them at home. Not so, they endeavoured to force their way into the Hall during the Coronation Banquet, but they were roughly driven back, and the rumour ran that the King had ordered them to be put to death; so they were cudgelled, stoned, struck with knives, chased to their houses, which were then set on fire. From mid-day till two of the clock on the following day the mob continued to murder, to pillage, and to destroy.

It is noted that at Richard’s Coronation Banquet the Chief Magistrate of London, not yet Mayor, officiated as Butler, an office claimed in the following reigns from that precedent.

When Richard prepared for his Crusade he ordered the City to furnish a certain quantity of armour, spears, knives, tents, etc., for the use of his army, together with wine, silken habits, and other things for his own use.

On the departure of Richard for Palestine his Chancellor, William Longchamp, Bishop of Ely, took up his residence in the Tower. Power turned his head; he acted like one whose position is safe, and authority unbounded. He annoyed the citizens by constructing a moat round the Tower, and by including within the external wall of the Tower a piece of land here and another there, a mill which belonged to St. Katherine’s Hospital, and a garden belonging to the City. He offended the Bishops by seizing his brother Regent, Bishop Pudsey; and the Barons by insulting Geoffrey, Archbishop of York, the son of Fair Rosamond. Thereafter, when John, at the head of a large army, summoned him to justify himself at Reading, Longchamp closed the gates of the Tower.

John proceeded to ascertain the disposition of the leading citizens of London. On the one hand Longchamp was the representative of the King, appointed by the King, to whom obedience was due. On the other hand, he had exasperated the citizens beyond endurance. They were ready—but with exceptions—to transfer their allegiance to John—always as the King’s representative. And here they saw their opportunity for making terms with John to their own advantage. Why not ask for the Commune? They did so. They made the granting of the Commune the condition of John’s admission into the City, and therefore of Longchamp’s disgrace. Should John refuse they would close their gates and support the Chancellor. But John accepted.

He rode from Reading into London accompanied by the Archbishop of Rouen and a great number of Bishops, Earls, and Barons. He was met by the citizens. The gates were thrown open; and John’s army sat down to besiege the Tower from the City and from the outside. This done, he called a council in the Chapel House of St. Paul’s and there solemnly conceded the Commune, upon which the citizens took oath of obedience to him, subject to the rights of the King. The meaning of this concession will be found more fully considered later on. At present it is sufficient to observe that it was followed by the election of the first Mayor of London: that other towns hastened to get the same recognition: and that the Commune, though never formally withdrawn by Richard himself, was never allowed by him.

Two Charters were granted to the City by Richard. The first, dated April 23, 1194, was an exact copy of his father’s Charter, with the same omission as to the election of Sheriff and Justiciar. It is not addressed to the Mayor, because Richard never recognised that office, but, as the Charter of Henry II. and that of Henry I., “To the Archbishops, Bishops, Abbots, Earls, Barons, Justices, Sheriffs, Ministers, and all others his faithful Friends and English people.”

The second Charter of July 14, 1197, authorised the removal of all weirs in the River: “For it is manifest to us ... that great determent and discommodity have grown to our City of London and also to the whole realm by reason of the said wears.”

We now arrive at the first intimation of an articulate discontent among the people. In all times those “who have not” regard those “who have” with envy and disfavour; from time to time, generally when the conditions of society seem to make partition possible, this hatred shows itself openly. In the year 1195, there first arose among the people a leader who became the voice of their discontent: he flourished for a while upon their favour; in the end he met with the usual fate of those who rely upon the gratitude and the support of the people. (See vol. ii. pt. i. ch. vi.)

In the year 1198 the Sheriffs of London and Middlesex were ordered by the King to provide standards of weight, length, and measures to be sent into all the Counties.

Richard was received by the City, on his return from captivity, with the greatest show of rejoicing; the houses being so decorated as to move the astonishment of the “Lords of Almaine” who rode with the King.

“When they saw the great riches,” Holinshed writes, “which the Londoners shewed in that triumphant receiuing of their souereigne lord and king, they maruelled greatlie thereat, insomuch that one of them said unto him:‘Surelie, oh King, your people are wise and subtile, which doo nothing doubt to shew the beautiful shine of their riches now that they have receiued you home, whereas before they seemed to bewaile their need and povertie, whilest you remained in captiuitie. For verelie if the emperor had understood that the riches of the realme had bin such, neither would he have beene persuaded that England could have been made bare of wealth, neither yet should you so lightlie have escaped his hands without the paiment of a more huge and intollerable ransome.’” (Vol. iii. p. 142, 1586 edition.)

The whole period of Richard’s residence in London, or, indeed, in England, was limited to a few weeks after his coronation and a few weeks after his return from captivity.

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CHAPTER III
JOHN

John granted five Charters to the City.

By the first of these Charters, June 17, 1199, he confirmed the City in the liberties which they had enjoyed under King Henry II.

By the third Charter, July 5, 1199, he went farther: he gave back to the citizens the rights they had obtained from Henry I., viz. the farm of Middlesex for a payment of £300 sterling every year, and the right of electing their own sheriffs. This seemed a great concession, but was not in reality very great, for the existence of a Mayor somewhat lessened the importance of the Sheriffs.

The second Charter confirmed previous laws as to the conservation of the Thames and its Fisheries.

The fourth Charter, March 20, 1202, disfranchised the Weavers’ Guild.

The fifth Charter, May 9, 1215, granted the right of the City to appoint a Mayor. Now there had been already a Mayor for many years, but he had not been formally recognised by the King, and this Charter recognised his existence. The right involved the establishment of the Commune, that is to say, the association of all the burghers alike for the purpose of protecting their common interests. It was no longer, for instance, the Merchant Guild which regulated trade as a whole; nor an association of Trade Guilds: nor was it an association of City Barons: nor was it a tribunal of Justice: it was simply the association of the burghers as a body.

We are now, however, approaching that period of the City History in which was carried on the long struggle between the aristocratic party and the crafts for power. In this place it is only necessary to indicate the beginning of the strife. The parties were first the Barons and Aldermen, owners of the City manors; secondly, the merchants, some of whom belonged to the City aristocracy; and, lastly, the craft. The Chief Magistrate of the Commune held a position of great power and importance. It was necessary for the various parties to endeavour to secure this post for a man of their own side.

The disfranchisement of the weavers certainly marks a point of importance in this conflict. It shows that the aristocratic party was for the time victorious. The Weavers’ Guild, as we have seen, had become very powerful. Their Guild united in itself all the tradesmen belonging to the manufacture, or the use, of textile fabrics; such as weavers, clothmakers, shearmen, fullers, cloth merchants, tailors, drapers, linen armourers, hosiers, and others, forming a body powerful by numbers, wealth, and organisation. To break up this body was equivalent to destroying the power of the crafts for a long time.

The domestic incidents of the City during this reign are not of great importance.

A very curious story occurs in the year 1209. The King’s Purveyor bought in the City a certain quantity of corn. The two Sheriffs, Roger Winchester and Edmund Hardell, refused to allow him to carry it off. King John, who was never remarkable for meekness, flew into a royal rage on this being reported to him, and ordered the Council of the City to degrade and imprison the said Sheriffs—which was done. But the Council sent a deputation to the King, then staying at Langley, to intercede for the Sheriffs. Their conduct, it was explained, was forced upon them. Had they not stopped the carrying off of the corn there would have been an insurrection which might have proved dangerous. This makes us wonder if the Commonalty resented the sending of corn out of the City? If so, why? Or was there some other reason for preventing it?

After the King’s return from his Irish expedition the Parliament or Council held at St Bride’s, Fleet Street, took place. John wanted money. He insisted on taking it, not from the City but from the Religious Houses. It was an act worthy of an Angevin. The fact, and the way of achieving the fact, are thus narrated by Holinshed:—

“From hence he made hast to London, and at his comming thither, tooke counsell how to recover the great charges and expenses that he had beene at in this journey and by the advice of William Brewer, Robert de Turnham, Reignold de Cornhill, and Richard de Marish, he caused all the cheefe prelats of England to assemble before him at St. Bride’s in London. So that thither came all the Abbats, Abbesses, Templars, Hospitallers, keepers of farmes and possessions of the order of Clugnie, and other such forreners as had lands within this realme belonging to their houses. All which were constreined to paie such a greevous tax, that the whole amounted to the summe of an hundred thousand pounds. The moonks of the Cisteaux order, otherwise called White Moonks, were constreined to paie 40 thousand pounds of silver at this time, all their privileges to the contrarie notwithstanding. Moreover, the abbats of that order might not get licence to go their generall chapter that yeere, which yeerelie was used to be holden, least their complaint should moove all the world against the king, for his too too hard and severe handling of them.” (Holinshed, vol. iii. p. 174, 1586 edition.)

This act of spoliation belonged to the period of the six years’ Interdict. The Interdict was pronounced on Passion Sunday, March 23, 1208, “which,” says Roger of Wendover, “since it was expressed to be by authority of our Lord the Pope, was inviolably observed by all without regard of persons or privileges. Therefore, all church services ceased to be performed in England, with the exception only of confession; the viaticum in cases of extremity; and the baptism of children: the bodies of the dead, too, were carried out of cities and towns, and buried in roads and ditches without prayers or the attendance of priests.”

At the beginning of the Interdict, the solemn silence of the church bells, the closing of the church gates, the cessation of all religious rites at a time when nothing was done without religion taking her part, struck terror into the minds of all folk. But as time went on and the people became accustomed to live without religion, this terror wore itself away. One understands very plainly that an Interdict too long maintained and too rigorously carried out might result in the destruction of religion itself. We must also remember, first, that the Interdict was in many places only partially observed, and in other places was not observed at all. Some of the Bishops remained on the King’s side; some of the clergy were rewarded for disobeying the Interdict. And in London and elsewhere there were relaxations. Thus, marriages and churchings took place at church doors; children were baptized in the church; offerings might be made at the altar: in the Monastic Houses the canonical hours were observed, but there was no singing. In a word, though the close connection of religious observances with the daily life made the Interdict grievous, there can be no doubt that its burden was felt less and less the longer it was maintained. Moreover, the King afforded the City a proof that the longer the Interdict lasted the richer and more powerful he would become: a fact which would certainly weaken the terror of the Church, while it might make the King’s subjects uneasy as to their liberties; for John confiscated all the property of the Church that he could lay his hands upon. “The King’s agents,” says Roger of Wendover, “converted the property of the Bishops to the King’s use, giving them only a scanty allowance of food and clothing out of their own property. The coin of the clergy was everywhere locked up and distrained for the benefit of the revenue: the concubines of the priests and clerks were taken by the King’s servants and compelled to ransom themselves at great expense. Religious men and other persons ordained, of any kind, when found travelling on the road, were dragged from their horses, robbed, and basely ill-treated by the satellites of the King, and no one could do them justice. About that time the servants of a certain sheriff on the confines of Wales came to the King, bringing in their custody a robber with his hands tied behind him, who had robbed and murdered a priest on the road: and on their asking the King what it was his pleasure should be done to the robber in such a case, the King immediately answered,‘He hath slain an enemy of mine. Release him, and let him go!’”

In the year 1210 the Town Ditch was dug for the greater strengthening of the City.

In 1213 the Standard Bearer of the City, Robert FitzWalter, one of the malcontent Barons, fled to France rather than give a security of his fidelity to John the King, whereupon John ordered his castle—Baynard’s Castle—to be destroyed. This castle stood at the angle in the junction of Thames and Fleet. The second Baynard’s Castle, erected by the Duke of Gloucester, was some little distance to the east, also on the bank of the river.

The leader of the Barons was this Robert FitzWalter, “Marshal of the Army of God and of Holy Church.” He was Castellain of London, Chief Banneret of the City, Baron of Dunmow, owner of Baynard’s Castle, and of a soke which now forms the parish of St. Andrew by the Wardrobe. As Castellain and Banneret it was his duty to direct the execution of traitors by drowning in the Thames. At the Court of Husting his place was on the right hand of the Mayor. In time of war the Castellain proceeded to the western gate of St. Paul’s, attended by nineteen knights mounted and armed, his banner borne before him. The Mayor and Aldermen came forth to meet him, all in arms, the Mayor carrying the City banner, which he placed in FitzWalter’s hands, at the same time giving him a charger fully caparisoned valued at £20. A sum of £20 was also given to FitzWalter for his expenses. The Mote bell was then rung, and the whole party rode to the Priory of the Holy Trinity, there to concert measures for the defence of the City.

The events which led to the concession of Magna Charta belong to the history of the country. But the part played by London in this memorable event must not be passed over.

The Barons, under FitzWalter, were besieging Northampton when letters arrived from certain citizens of London offering their admission into the City, no doubt on terms and conditions. The chance of getting the chief city of the country into their power was too good to be refused. A large company of soldiers took back the Barons’ answer. They were admitted within the walls secretly; according to one Chronicle, at night and by scaling the wall; according to another, by day, and on Sunday morning, the people being at mass; according to another, openly and by Aldgate. Once in the City, however, they seized and held the gates and proclaimed rebellion against the King, murdering his partisans. Then the Barons themselves entered London. From this stronghold they threatened destruction to such of the Lords as had not joined their confederacy. And for a time all government ceased; there were no pleas heard in the Courts; the Sheriffs no longer attempted to carry out their duties; no one paid tax dues, tolls, or customs. The King, at one time reduced to a personal following of half a dozen, found himself unable to make any resistance; and on the glorious June 15, 1215, Magna Charta was signed.

The Barons, who retained London by way of security, returned to the City and there remained for twelve months, but in doubt and anxiety as to what the King would do next. That he would loyally carry out his promises no one expected. He was sending ambassadors to Rome seeking the Pope’s aid; and he was living with a few attendants in the Isle of Wight, or on the sea-coast near the Cinque Ports, currying favour with the sailors.

The rest is national history. The Barons appear to have spent their time in banqueting while the King was acting. Presently they found that the King had become once more strong enough to meet them. Indeed, he attempted to besiege London, but was compelled to abandon the enterprise by the courageous bearing of the citizens, who threw open their gates and sallied forth. The Barons were excommunicated; the City was once more laid under an Interdict; these measures produced no effect, but the Barons clearly perceived that their only hope lay in setting up another king. They therefore invited Louis, son of the French King, to come over; and then John died.

To return to the grant of Magna Charta. Its effects upon the liberties of the people have been thus summarised by George Norton in his Historical Account of London:—

“This charter has become the very alphabet of the language of freedom and proverbialized in the mouths of Englishmen.... Merchants could now transact their business without being exposed to arbitrary tolls: the King’s Court for Common Pleas should no longer follow his person but be stationary in one place: that circuits should be established and held every year: and that the inferior local courts should be held only at their regular and appointed times ... that the Sheriffs should not be allowed in their districts to hold the pleas of the crown: that no aids should be demanded of the people except by consent of Parliament and in the three cases of the King’s captivity, the making his son a knight, and the marriage of his daughter. And lastly, as an object of national concern, it was expressly provided that London and all the cities and boroughs of the kingdom should preserve their ancient liberties, immunities and free customs.”

The words which Norton describes as the alphabet of freedom are the following:—

“Nullus liber homo capiatur vel imprisonetur, aut disseisiatur de libero tenemento suo, vel libertatibus, vel consuetudinibus suis, aut utlagetur aut exulet aut aliquo modo destruatur: nec super eum ibimus, nec super eum mittimus, nisi per legale judicium parium suorum vel per legem terrae. Nulli vendemus: nulli negabimus, aut differemus rectum vel Justitiam.”

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CHAPTER IV
HENRY III

John was succeeded by his son Henry, then a boy of nine. The death of their enemy brought back the Barons to their allegiance: forty of them at once went over to the young King, the rest followed one by one. Louis was left almost alone in London with his Frenchmen. The pride and arrogance of the foreigners went far to disgust the English and inclined them to return to their loyalty. After the defeat at Lincoln, Louis found himself blockaded within the City walls, unable to get out, and, unless relief came, likely to be starved into submission. This is the second instance in history of the City being blockaded both by land and sea: the first being that siege in which Cnut brought his ships round the Bridge. The Thames was closed: the roads were closed: no provisions could be brought into the City by river or by road. And when a fleet, sent by the French King to the assistance of his son, was defeated by Hubert de Burgh off Dover, whatever chance the Prince might have had on his arrival was gone. Louis made terms. He stipulated for an amnesty for the citizens of London: on the strength of that amnesty, or as the price of it, he borrowed 5000 marks (or perhaps £1000) of them and so returned to France.

The young King was received by the citizens with the usual demonstrations of exuberant joy. Had they known what a terrible half-century awaited them, they would have been less demonstrative.

A Parliament was held at London as soon as Louis had gone: the care of the young King, whose mother had already married again, was committed to the Bishop of Winchester.

The new buildings at Westminster were commenced by the Bishop of Winchester as one of the first of Henry’s acts.

The story of the wrestling match which belongs to the year 1221 throws some light upon the internal conditions of the City. In itself it had no political significance except to show the readiness with which a mob can be raised on small provocation and the mischief which may follow. It was on St. James’s Day that sports were held in St. Giles’s Fields near the Leper Hospital. The young men of London contended with those of the “suburbs,” especially those of Westminster. Those who have witnessed a great football match in the North of England will understand the intense and passionate interest with which each “event” was followed by the mass of onlookers. A gladiatorial combat was not more warlike than the wrestling of these young men. The Londoners came out best in this match, whereupon the Steward of Westminster, according to the account, resolved upon revenge, and a very unsportsmanlike revenge he took. For he invited the young men of London to a return match. They accepted, suspecting nothing; they went unarmed to Tothill Fields, ready to renew the bloodless contest: they were received, not by wrestlers, but by armed men, who fell upon them and wounded them grievously, and so drove them back to the City. One feels that this story is incomplete, and on the face of it impossible. Holinshed’s account of what happened in consequence is as follows:—

“The citizens, sore offended to see their people so misused, rose in tumult, and rang the common bell to gather the more companies to them. Robert Serle, mayor of the Citie, would have pacified the matter, persuading them to let the injurie passe till by orderlie plaint they might get redresse, as law and justice should assigne. But a certeine stout man of the Citie named Constantine FitzArnulfe, of good authoritie amongst them, advised the multitude not to harken unto peace, but to seeke revenge out of hand (wherein he shewed himselfe so farre from true manhood, that he bewraied himselfe rather to have a woman’s heart),—

... Quod vindicta

Nemo magis gaudet quam foemina—

still prosecuting the strife with tooth and naile, and blowing the coles of contention as it were with full bellowes, that the houses belonging to the Abbat of Westminster, and manelie the house of his steward might be overthrowne and beaten downe flat with the ground. This lewd counsell was soone received and executed by the outragious people, and Constantine himselfe being cheefe leader of them, cried with a lowd voice, ‘Mount Joy! Mount Joy! God be our aid and our sovereigne Lewes!’ This outragious part comming to the notice of Hubert de Burgh, Lord Cheefe Justice, he gat togither a power of armed men, and came to the Citie with the same, and taking inquisition of the cheefe offenders, found Constantine as constant in affirming the deed to be his, as he had before constanlie put it in practise, whereupon he was apprehended and two other citizens with him. On the next day in the morning Fouks de Brent was appointed to have them to execution: and so by the Thames he quietly led them to the place where they should suffer. Now when Constantine had the halter about his necke, he offered fifteene thousand marks of silver to have beene pardoned, but it would not be. There was hanged with him his nephew also named Constantine, and one Geffrey, who made the proclamation devised by the said Constantine.” (Holinshed, vol. iii. p. 204, 1586 edition.)

In this singular incident we perceive very plainly the existence of a French party in the City. It was only two or three years since Prince Louis had been called over: there was no love for the advisers or the guardians of the young King: the memory of John still rankled: the cries of “Mount Joy!” came from men of the French party: the party was so strong that they believed themselves certain to be respected: Constantine fully expected to be acquitted if he were tried by his peers. And the party contained some—perhaps a majority—of the wealthiest merchants, since one of them was able to offer 15,000 marks for his release, equal to £10,000, and about six times as much according to our present value. The story also enables us to understand both the exaggerated belief in their own powers entertained by the citizens of London, and the resentment with which the King would receive indication of this belief. It wanted fifty years of Henry and thirty of Edward to make the citizens lay aside the belief that king-making was one of the privileges exclusively granted to the City.

Meantime the resentment of the young King, who never forgot or forgave this affair, was shown by the arrest of many citizens on the charge of taking part in the business, and their punishment by the loss of hand, foot, or eyesight. The King also deposed all the City officers. In this way the seeds of animosity and distrust between the King and the City were sown.

In the year 1227 Henry declared himself of age. This declaration was followed by five Charters granted to the City of London.

In the first of these Charters, February 8, 1227, the King grants the citizens the Sheriffwick of London and Middlesex; all their liberties and free customs; the election of their Sheriffs, whom they are to present to the King’s Justices; but not the election of their Mayor. The second Charter, of the same date, gives them the power of electing their Mayor “every year.” It is addressed to Archbishops, Bishops, etc., and all faithful subjects; and it speaks of the King’s “Barons” in his City. The third Charter orders the removal of all weirs in the Thames and the Medway, recites the privileges granted by the Charter of King John with “all other liberties which they had in the time of Henry I.” (It is remarkable that Edward the Confessor appears no longer in Charters and in laws.) The fifth Charter, dated August 18, 1227, refers to the warren of Staines.

In 1229 came over to England Stephen, the Pope’s Nuncio, with orders to levy a tenth upon all property, spiritual or temporal, for the Pope. After much hesitation, and only to avoid excommunication, the Bishops and Abbots consented; but the temporal Lords refused, in some cases giving way when they were compelled to do so, and in others holding out. The Earl of Chester, for instance, would not allow the tax to be levied on any part of his lands or upon any priest, or Religious House. The Nuncio made himself odious, partly by his grasping demands, even taking the gold and silver chalices when there was no money; partly by the tax itself, which gave over, as it seemed, the whole country into the hands of the Pope; and partly because the Nuncio brought over with him certain “Caursines,” or Caursini, agents for the Pope, who collected the tax. These foreigners remained, and, as will be seen, increased yearly in wealth and in the detestation of the people.

In this reign, also, the country people received other lessons as to the duty of affection for the Pope by the arrival among them of foreigners intruded into their benefices from Rome; these priests knew no English and were unable to instruct the people. The troubles which arose on account of these evils belong to the history of the country.

Despite his Charters the King’s exactions grew continually more grievous. He levied a Poll Tax in the City and a Ward Tax, and after a fire which destroyed a large part of the City, he exacted a sum of £20,000. In 1231 the Jews built a synagogue “very curiously,” but the citizens, by permission of the King, obtained possession of it, and caused it, humorously, to be dedicated to the Virgin Mary. About the same time the King built “a fair church adjoining thereto in the City of London near the old temple,” e.g. the Domus Conversorum or House of Converts. Stow says that there were a great many converts who were baptized and instructed in the laws of Christ and “did live laudably under a learned man appointed to govern them.” The “fair church” was the Rolls Chapel, wantonly destroyed in the year 1896.

The Chronicles of this date contain a great deal of information about the weather. I have not thought it necessary to note the hard frosts, the high tides, and the storms, which were remarked in London and elsewhere. The weather seems to have been much the same at all times in this country. Now and then a storm more than commonly severe is experienced. For instance, on January 25, 1230, while the Bishop was celebrating High Mass in St. Paul’s, there arose a terrible storm of thunder and lightning, and so dreadful a “savour and stinke withal” that a panic seized the people and they rushed out of the church headlong, falling over each other, priests and choristers and all, saving only the Bishop and one deacon. When the storm passed away, they all went back again, and the Bishop continued the Mass. In 1233 there was a wet summer with floods in all parts of the country and a bad harvest. We are not yet out of the age of prodigies and miracles and monsters. Four suns appeared in the sky at the same time, together with a great circle of crystalline colour; and in the South of England two dragons were seen fighting in the air until one overcame the other, when both plunged into the sea. In the North of England and also in Ireland bodies of armed men sprang out of the ground and fought in battle array and then sank into the ground again. To show that this was no mere apparition the ground was trodden down where they had fought. And once a strange star appeared with a flaming tail. What could these prodigies portend?

In the year 1236 the City received the new Queen with every outward sign of welcome, and, unfortunately for themselves, of wealth. What was Eleanor of Provence, what was the young King, to think of the resources of the city which could receive them with so brave a show? Thus writes Stow concerning this Riding:—

“The cittie was adorned with silkes, and in the night with lampes, cressets, and other lights without number, besides many pageants and strange devices which were shewed. The citizens rode to meete the king and queene, beeing clothed in long garmentes embrodered about with golde and silke of divers colours, their horses finely trapped in arraie to the number of three hundred and sixty, every man bearing golden or silver cuppes in their hands, and the king’s trumpeters before them sounding. The citizens of London did minister wine as butlers.” (Howe’s edition of Stow’s Chronicles, p. 184.)

In the year 1236 water was first brought into the City by pipes from the Tyburn, or from wells or springs in the district called Tyburn, now Marylebone. These pipes were of lead and discharged the water into cisterns which were afterwards castellated with stone. The most important of them was that in Chepe: there were in all, when other pipes had been laid down, nineteen conduits: and it became the custom, once a year, for the Mayor and Aldermen to ride out in order to inspect the Heads from which the conduits were supplied, after which they were wont to hunt a hare before dinner and a fox after dinner in the fields about Marylebone.

In the year 1238 a singular procession passed out of St. Paul’s Cathedral along Fleet Street and the Strand as far as Durham House, then the palace of the Legate. The procession consisted of a large body of ecclesiastics, Doctors in Divinity and Law, followed (or preceded) by a company of young men: they were ungirded, without gown, bareheaded and barefooted. There were the Heads of Houses, the Master and Students of the University of Oxford headed by Ado de Kilkenny, Standard Bearer to the scholars: they were on their way to pray the Legate’s pardon for a late lamentable outbreak in Oxford. It began with an Irish undergraduate, who went into the Legate’s kitchen to beg for food. The cook in reply took up a pot filled with hot broth and threw it in his face. A Welsh student, also come on the same errand, was so exasperated at the sight of the outrage that he killed the cook, there and then. After which the students rose in a body and attacked the house. The Legate fled for his life, taking refuge in a church steeple whence he escaped under cover of the night. As soon as he was safe he interdicted the University, and excommunicated all concerned in the riot. But on their submission he granted his forgiveness and removed the Interdict.

In 1250 the King sent for the principal citizens, and assured them that he would no longer oppress them by taxation. This promise was never meant to be kept. On a frivolous complaint of Richard, the King’s brother, the City liberties were seized and a custos appointed, who remained in office until the City had paid a fine of six hundred marks. Five hundred more were demanded for a new charter by which the incoming Mayor might be presented to the Barons of the Exchequer every year instead of the King. The old jealousy with which the citizens looked upon the Tower was about this time revived and strengthened by the erection of a wall round the Tower. Longchamp had made the ditch, but his work remained incomplete. Henry resolved to carry it on and to make an independent fortress surrounded by its own walls and having its own communications with the river and the country outside. The citizens looked upon the rise of this wall with suspicion and misgiving. Before the work was completed the wall fell down. It was put up again, and again it fell down, to the great joy of the people, who looked upon it as a direct intervention of Heaven on their behalf. That this was really the case was proved by a story which ran about the City that the overthrow of the wall was done by St. Thomas À Becket himself.

“A vision appeared by night to a certain priest, a wise and holy man, wherein an archprelate, dressed in pontifical robes, and carrying a cross in his hand, came to the walls which the King had at that time built near the Tower of London, and, after regarding them with a scowling look, struck them strongly and violently with the cross, saying, ‘Why do ye rebuild them?’ Whereupon the newly-erected walls suddenly fell to the ground, as if thrown down by an earthquake. The priest, frightened at this sight, said to a clerk who appeared following the archprelate, ‘Who is this archbishop?’ to which the clerk replied, ‘It is St. Thomas the martyr, a Londoner by birth, who considered that these walls were built as an insult, and to the prejudice of the Londoners, and has therefore irreparably destroyed them.’ The priest then said, ‘What expense and builders’ labour have they not cost.’ The clerk replied,‘If poor artificers, who seek after and have need of pay, had obtained food for themselves by the work, that would be endurable; but inasmuch as they have been built, not for the defence of the kingdom, but only to oppress harmless citizens, if St. Thomas had not destroyed them, St. Edmund the Confessor and his successor would still more relentlessly have overthrown them from their foundations.’ The priest, after having seen these things, awoke from his sleep, rose from his bed, and in the dead silence of the night told his vision to all who were in the house. Early in the morning a report spread through the city of London that the walls built round the Tower, on the construction of which the King had expended more than twelve thousand marks, had fallen to pieces, to the wonder of many, who proclaimed it a bad omen, because the year before, on the same night, which was that of St. George’s day, and at the same hour of the night, the said walls had fallen down, together with their bastions. The citizens of London, although astonished at this event, were not sorry for it; for these walls were to them as a thorn in their eyes, and they had heard the taunts of the people who said that these walls had been built as an insult to them, and that if any one of them should dare to contend for the liberty of the City, he would be shut up in them, and consigned to imprisonment; and in order that, if several were to be imprisoned, they might be confined in several different prisons, a great number of cells were constructed in them apart from one another, that one person might not have communication with another.” (Matthew Paris.)

The wealth of the Jews—or at least of one Jew—is shown by the exactions of the King from Aaron of York. He made this man—one of “his” Jews—pay him the sum of 14,000 marks for himself and 10,000 marks for the Queen. He had before this made the unfortunate Aaron give him 3000 marks besides 200 marks of gold for the Queen, in all about 60,000 marks or £40,000, which in our money would be equal to about half a million sterling. In 1252 the King seized the half of all the property possessed by the Jews. But there was worse trouble for the Jews than mere plunder. In 1225 the Jews of Norwich were thrown into prison on a charge of circumcising a boy with the intention of crucifying him at Easter. They were accused, convicted, and “punished”—hanged or burned. In 1255 one hundred and forty-three Jews were brought to Westminster charged with crucifying a child named Hugh de Lincoln. Eighteen of them were hanged; the rest were kept in prison a long time. In 1239 they were accused of a murder “secretly committed,” and were glad to escape with the loss of the third part of their property. The Pope’s Nuncio, Stephen, was succeeded by one Martin, who carried on the same exactions, regardless of murmurs and threats. The King was persuaded to hold an inquiry into the number and value of the benefices held by foreigners preferred by the Pope. The annual value was found to be 60,000 marks, or £40,000, an enormous sum at that time. The detention of a messenger with letters from the Pope to his Nuncio, brought the matter to a head. On an occasion when a large number of lords, knights, and gentlemen met together at Dunstable, they united in sending a message to Martin that he must quit the kingdom. He was then residing in the Temple. The story shows the exasperation of the people and the helplessness of the King, whose authority was thus usurped:—

“Maister Martine hearing this, got him to the court, and declaring to the king what message he had received, required to understand whether he was privie to the matter, or that his people tooke it upon them so rashlie without his authoritie or no? To whome the king answered, that he had not given them any authoritie so to command him out of the realme; but indeed (saith he) my barons doo scarselie forbeare to rise against me, bicause I have maintained and suffered thy pilling and injurious polling within this my realme, and I have had much adoo to staie them from running upon thee to pull thee in peeces. Maister Martine hearing these words, with a fearfull voice besought the king that he might for the love of God, and reverence of the pope, have free passage out of the realme; to whome the king in great displeasure answered, ‘The divill that brought thee in carrie thee out, even to the pit of hell for me.’ Howbeit, at length, when those that were about the king had pacified him, he appointed one of the marshals of his house, called Robert North or Nores, to conduct him to the sea side, and so he did, but not without great feare, sithens he was afraid of everie bush, least men should have risen upon him and murthered him. Whereupon when he came to the pope, he made a greevious complaint both against the king and others.” (Holinshed, vol. iii. p. 237, 1586 edition.)

After a futile remonstrance with the Pope, the Barons and Lords resolved that they would pay no more tribute to Rome. The Pope therefore ordered the Bishops to set their seals to the Charter by which John had consented to the tribute. This they did, whereupon the King, who was always strong in words, swore that so long as he should live no tribute should be paid to Rome. The position of the country towards the Pope was considered at a Parliament called in London in Lent 1246. As regards London, it is sufficient to note the quarrel and to remember that the attitude of the country, three hundred years before the Reformation, was thus hostile to the claims of the Pope.

In the year 1241 took place the election of Boniface, Bishop Elect of Basle, and uncle of the Queen, as Archbishop of Canterbury. This election was the greatest and the worst of the many intrusions of foreigners into English offices. Matthew Paris tells the story of the election:—

“The monks of Canterbury, then, finding that the Pope and the King indulged them by turns, and mutually assented to each other’s requests, after invoking the grace of the Holy Spirit and the King’s favour, elected as the pastor of their souls, Boniface, bishop elect of Basle, and an uncle of the Lady Eleanor, the illustrious Queen of England, yet entirely unknown to the aforesaid monks, as regarded his knowledge, morals, or age, and (as was stated) totally incompetent, compared with the archbishops his predecessors, for such a dignified station. They however elected him, on this consideration, namely, that, if they had elected any one else, the King, who obtained the favour of the Pope in everything, would invent some grounds of objections, and reject and annul the election. And in order that the Pope might not reject the bishop elect as incompetent, or rather that he might appear competent and fit for such a high dignity, the King, who endeavoured by all the means in his power to promote the cause and raise the fame of the said Boniface, now elected or about to be elected, ordered a paper to be drawn up, in which the person of the said Boniface was praised beyond measure, and in evidence of the truth of it appended his royal seal to the said writing. He then sent it to the bishops and abbats, enjoining or imperiously begging them to set their seals also to it, and to bear evidence to his assertion; several, however, unwilling to violate the integrity of their conscience, and fearing to break the Lord’s commandment, ‘Thou shalt not bear false witness,’ firmly refused to obey him. Several of the clergy of the higher ranks, however, namely some bishops and abbats, were alarmed and enervated by the King’s threats, and, laying aside their godly fear, and showing reverence to man more than to God, affixed their seals to it, as a guarantee and testimony of their belief, and willingly accepted of this Boniface as their superior. Although he was of noble blood and a most particular friend of the princes of both kingdoms, and himself well-made in person, and sufficiently qualified, yet the monks of Canterbury were extremely sorry that they had been overcome by the King’s entreaties and agreed to his request in this matter; and some of them, after reflecting within themselves, knowing the misery in store for them, seceded from their church, and, in order to perform continued penance, betook themselves to the Carthusian order.”

Nine years later, in 1250, there occurred an ecclesiastical scandal of a very unusual kind caused and provoked by the arrogance of this prelate. It is related by Stow as follows:—

“Boniface, Archbishop of Canterburie, in his visitation came to the priory of Saint Bartholomew in Smithfielde, where, being received with procession in the most solemne wise, he said he passed not upon the honor but came to visit them, unto whome the Chanons answered, that they having a learned Byshoppe ought not in contempt of him to bee visited by any other, which answere so much misliked the Archbyshopp, that he forthwith fell on the Subprior, and smote him on the face with his fist, saying, ‘Indeede! Indeede, doeth it become you English Traytors so to answere me?’ Thus raging with othes not to be recited, he rent in pieces the rich coape of the Subprior, trode it under feete, and thrust him against a pillar of the chancell, that he hadde almost killed him but the Chanons seeing that their Subprior was almost dead they ranne and plucked off the Archbyshoppe with such a violence that they overthrew him backwardes, whereby they might see that he was armed and prepared to fight. The Archbyshoppe’s men seeing their maister downe (being all strangers, and their maister’s countrymen borne in Provance), fell upon the Chanons, beate them, tare them, and trode them under their feet: at length the Chanons getting away as well as they could, ranne bloddy and myrie, rent and torne, to the Bishoppe of London to complaine, who bade them go to the king at Westminster, and tell him thereof: whereupon four of them went thither, the rest were not able, they were so sore hurt: but when they came at Westminster, the king woulde neyther heare nor see them, so they returned without redresse. In the meane season the whole citie was in an uproare, and ready to have rang the common bell, and to have hewed the Archbyshoppe into small pieces, but he was secretly gotte away to Lambeth.” (Howe’s edition of Stow’s Chronicles, p. 188.)

At a Parliament held in the year 1246, a memorandum was drawn up of the injuries sustained by England at the hands of the Pope, especially in the presentation of English benefices to foreigners. The document is of the highest interest, but belongs to the national history. The reading and adoption of this memorandum was followed by the despatch of letters from (1) “all the English”; (2) the Abbots of England; (3) the general community of England; (4) the King—all these to the Pope—and lastly from the King to the Cardinals. The third of these letters, which was sent out with the seal of the City of London, was the most straightforward. It may be quoted here:—

“To the most holy Father in Christ and well-beloved Lord, Innocent, by the grace of God supreme Pontiff of the Universe Church, his devoted sons, Richard, earl of Cornwall; Simon de Montfort, earl of Leicester; De Bohun, earl of Hereford and Essex; R. le Bigod, earl of Norfolk; R., earl of Gloucester and Hereford; R., earl of Winchester; W., earl of Albemarle; H., earl of Oxford; and others throughout the whole of England, barons and nobles, as well as the nobles of the ports dwelling near the sea-coast, as also the clergy and people in general, Health and due reverence in all respects to such a potent pontiff. The Mother Church is bound so to cherish her children, and to assemble them under her wings, that they may not degenerate in their duty to their mother, but may make stronger efforts on her behalf, if necessary, and taking up the sword and buckler, may oppose themselves to every peril in her defence, from whose milk they derive consolation, whilst they hang on the breasts of her motherly affection: for the mother ought to remember the children of her womb, lest, by acting otherwise, and withdrawing the nourishment of her milk, she may appear to become a stepmother. The father, also, who withdraws his affection from his sons, is no father, but ought, with good reason, to be called a stepfather, as he considers his natural children as illegitimate ones, or stepsons. On this account, reverend father, ‘chariot of Israel and its charioteer,’ we confidently resort to the asylum of your affection, crying aloud after you, humbly and devoutly praying of you, in the hopes of divine retribution, compassionately to listen to the voices of those crying after you, and to apply a salutary remedy to the burdens, injuries, and oppressions repeatedly imposed and practised on the kingdom of England, and our lord the king: otherwise, scandal will necessarily arise, urged on as we are ourselves, as well as the king, by the clamours of the people; since it will be necessary for us, unless the king and kingdom are soon released from the oppressions practised on him and it, to oppose ourselves as a wall for the house of the Lord, and for the liberty of the kingdom. This, indeed, we have, out of respect for the Apostolic See, hitherto delayed doing; but we shall not be able to dissemble after the return of our messengers who are sent on this matter to the Apostolic See, or to refrain from giving succour, as far as lies in our power, to the clergy, as well as the people of the kingdom of England, who will on no account endure such proceedings: and your holiness may rest assured that, unless the aforesaid matters are speedily reformed by you, there will be reasonable grounds to fear that such peril will impend over the Roman church, as well as our lord the king, that it will not be easy to apply a remedy to the same: which God forbid.”

The reign of Henry III. should have taught the citizens the great lesson that a charter is only a recognition and a promise: a recognition of ancient rights and liberties achieved, and a promise to respect these rights and liberties. When a king ascended the throne, who had no regard for oaths or charters, and who was strong enough to enforce his will, what became of the rights and liberties? The City had to learn that more than a king’s word was necessary. “Make a law,” is the cry of the weak and ignorant. “Let us defend what laws we have,” is the cry of the strong. During the greater part of this long reign London was weak and ignorant. The weakness of London—the alternate fits of rage and apathy—as, one after the other, her liberties were taken from her, is to be explained by the fact that the City was divided within itself. London united and of one mind could have dictated terms to king or barons. The secret of the successful and long-continued oppression of the City is the internal dissension of the people.

I must reserve for another chapter the history of the King’s encroachments and the internal dissensions. They form part of the growth—though apparently a check or hindrance—of the civil liberties.

The City, at the same time, laboured together with the country under heavy grievances. An arbitrary and extravagant king; the immigration of foreigners by swarms; the exactions of the Italian usurers, licensed by the Pope; the continuous and almost hopeless struggle against the domination and pretensions of the Pope; the loss of foreign and home trade, owing to internal dissensions and unchecked piracies,—all these things together make the long reign of Henry III. the most disastrous in the whole history of London. The struggle with the Pope belongs to the history of the country rather than to that of London. The unpopularity of the King was extended to the Queen as well. Perhaps Eleanor was regarded as the chief cause of the invasion of the country by these foreigners—ecclesiastics and usurers. The hatred of the people was shown on one unfortunate day when the Queen proposed to go by boat from the Tower to Windsor. As she drew near the Bridge, according to Holinshed, “a sorte of lewd naughtepacks, got them to the Bridge, making a noise at her, and crying ‘Drown the witch!’ threw down stones, cudgels, dirt, and other things at her, so that she escaped in great danger of her person, fled to Lambeth, and, through fear to be further pursued, landed there, and so stayed till the Mayor of London, with much ado appeasing the peril of the people, repaired to the Queen and brought her back again in safety to the Tower.”

London suffered worse things than the country because her people were throughout this long reign the unceasing object of the King’s rapacity, tyranny, and hatred. He deprived the City of the Mayor and Sheriffs, substituting a Custos and Bailiffs; he fined them relentlessly and on the smallest pretext; he laid upon them more heavy taxes than they had ever before known; he made them pay for their charters; he tried to divert the trade of the City to Westminster; yet from time to time he seems to have understood the necessity for conciliation: he met the citizens at a folk-mote; he took leave of them before going abroad. On another occasion he cut down the expenses of his household, even suppressing some of the tapers on his altar, so that he was not always an extravagant monarch. Again, on another occasion we find him spending the day and dining with the Dominican Friars, so that he was not always a luxurious monarch. And there is the memorable scene in Westminster Hall, which may be given in the words of Matthew of Westminster:—

“The day fortnight after Easter, a great parliament being assembled, nearly all the prelates being met together, requested that the King, observing their charters and liberties as he had often promised, would also permit the Holy Church to enjoy its liberties, especially in the matter of the elections of prelates of the cathedral churches, and of the churches of convents: all which the King protested that he would observe inviolably, and thus obtained the consent which he desired from them and from the other nobles, to the subsidy which he required for his pilgrimage. Accordingly, there was granted to the King one-tenth part of all the ecclesiastical revenues for three years, and from the knights a scutage for that year, at the rate of three marks for each shield. And the King promised in all good faith that he would inviolably observe all those things which he had on other occasions repeatedly sworn to, and which had been originally granted by his father John. And that they might feel more sure of his promise, he ordered sentence to that effect to be publicly pronounced in his presence, which was also done in the following manner:—

Accordingly on the third of May, in the larger royal palace at Westminster, in the presence of, and under the authority of the Lord Henry, by the grace of God, King of England, etc., etc. And after this was done, the charter of his father John was produced before the assembly, in which the said King John had granted the same things of his own absolute will, out of which charter they caused the aforesaid liberties to be recited. But while the King was listening to the aforesaid sentence, he held his hand to his breast with a serene and willing countenance; and at last, when all the tapers had been thrown down and were smoking, each person said, ‘So may all those who transgress this sentence be extinguished and stink in hell’; and the King, with all those who were standing by, answered,‘Amen, Amen.’”

When civil war broke out the City took the side of the Barons. London provided a contingent of 12,000 men. At Lewes the Londoners were routed by Prince Edward in return for the insults with which they had assailed the Queen, his mother; at Evesham their party was defeated and the King was once more restored to power. He deposed the Mayor; he put a Custos in his place; he refused to receive the citizens when they went to London to sue for mercy; he imprisoned Thomas FitzThomas for life; he confiscated the property of sixty of the wealthier citizens; he fined the City 20,000 marks, and because it was from the Bridge that the Queen had been insulted by the citizens, he gave the Bridge and its tolls to her. She kept it for a few years, neglecting to keep it in repair, and then gave it back to the City.

In the year 1257 Henry issued a new coinage of golden pennies, each weighing two sterlings, i.e. two silver pennies, and each ordered to represent twenty sterlings. He asked the advice of the City upon the matter. There was a general feeling that the golden penny was not wanted, and that it would cause a depreciation in the value of gold. The King ordered the coinage to be continued, but that no one should be compelled to take it.

We now come upon a confused episode in the history. It is that of the occupation of the City by the Earl of Gloucester (Gilbert de Clare). As Arnold FitzThedmar tells the story, the Earl was coming to London by command of the Legate, who held the Tower. The Legate further told the citizens that Gloucester was a friend of the King, and that they must admit him and his men into the City. However, the citizens begged the Earl not to take up his quarters within their walls by reason of the great multitude with him. Accordingly, he rode through with his host, and lay at Southwark. But next day the Earl came back, to hold a conference with the Legate, and there remained, he and all his people. The roving bands of the “disherisoned” who had been wasting Norfolk from their headquarters at Ely appeared before the City. The Earl took the keys of the gates, let in these dangerous marauders, and assumed the command over the whole City. Many of the better sort went away from this, and the Earl ordered their chattels to be seized for his own use or allowed his soldiers to plunder them. His men were joined by certain “low people” calling themselves the “Commons of the City”—they were obviously the craftsmen—who seized the opportunity to assert themselves: they arrested many of the principal citizens and spoiled and wasted their goods; deposed the mayor and sheriffs; they chose three of themselves to be custos and bailiffs; they imprisoned some of the aldermen; they invited back all those who had been expelled the City for breach of the peace against King Henry; and they released those who were prisoners in Newgate, Ludgate, Cripplegate, and any other prison. Some of the disorderly company of the “disherisoned” marched to Westminster, and there did as much mischief as they could to the palace, breaking the glass windows, drinking the wine, and defacing the buildings. The Pope’s Legate, meantime, was in the Tower. With him were many of the King’s friends—those of the aristocratic party—and a great number of Jews; we may also believe that the Caursini and the foreigners were taking shelter in the Tower. The Jews, who had with them their wives and children together with all their portable wealth, were assigned the defence of one ward of the Tower, which, it is pleasant to read, they did defend valiantly. In the end peace was made, and the City escaped without a fine save 1000 marks for the destruction of the house of the King’s brother Richard at Isleworth.

In 1267 the King gave the City of London to his son Edward in order that he might rule over it, and to enjoy its revenues. Edward appointed a Custos, one Hugh FitzOthon, who was also Constable of the Tower.

In 1271 the Prince restored the Mayor and Sheriffs and obtained a charter of confirmation for the City. This done he assumed the Cross and went upon his crusade.

The amount of revenue obtained by the King from the City of London in the year 1268 is shown by the following return furnished by the Bailiffs Walter Hervey and William de Durham.

In the year 1267 there was a serious riot, showing that the craftsmen had not yet learned the lesson of fraternity towards each other. It rose from a quarrel between the goldsmiths and the tailors. Other trades joined in: for instance the tawyers who prepared fine leather: and the parmenters who dealt in broad-cloth. For several days the streets were thronged with companies of these conflicting trades, fighting and murdering. In the end the riot was suppressed and the ringleaders were executed.

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CHAPTER V
EDWARD I

The new reign began with the adjustment of an outstanding quarrel. Flanders was the principal cloth-making country, and, as such, she was always the chief customer of England for wool, in the trade of which so many of the London merchants were interested. In the year 1270, when the Countess of Flanders thought fit to lay hands upon the wool and other merchandise belonging to English merchants in her dominions, Henry issued a writ to the Mayor and Sheriffs forbidding the export of wool anywhere out of the kingdom. This measure failed to produce the desired effect. The King therefore, in 1270, seized all the goods of the Flemings, Hainaulters, and other subjects of the Countess; he ordered the London merchants to draw up an estimate of their wares, to be replaced out of the Flemings’ goods, and banished every Fleming out of the country. The property seized more than covered the amount of the loss. When the old King died during the absence of Edward in the Holy Land, the Chancellor, Walter de Merton, continued to banish the Flemings.

On his journey home, Edward received an embassy from the Countess, and sent for four discreet citizens to confer with him. The four chosen were Henry Waleys, afterwards Mayor of Bordeaux, as well as of London; Gregory de Rokesley, goldsmith and wool merchant; John Horn, evidently of Flemish descent; and Luke de Battencourt, Sheriff. Peace was concluded and signed in the same year—1274.

On the return of Edward from the Holy Land, he was received by the City with every appearance of joy, all the houses being hung with silk and tapestry, while the conduits ran with wine.

He was crowned at Westminster Abbey with his Queen Eleanor on August 19, 1274. The ceremony took place in the Abbey Church very much as we see it, though without later additions of chapel and western towers. The Abbey had been rebuilt by Henry III. though as yet it was not finished. The Queen-mother, Eleanor of Provence, was present. The day after the coronation Alexander III. of Scotland did homage. In honour of the occasion five hundred horses were let loose among the crowd for any to take who could. One would like a picture of the scramble which followed, and an enumeration of the dead and wounded when all the horses had been ridden away.

In the City the contest between the two parties was continued. The old party tried to obtain the election of their man Philip le Taillour, but were beaten by the common sort who elected Walter Hervey. An appeal was made to the King: a committee of ten, five on each side, were to agree upon a Mayor. The names of the members of this committee on both sides show pretty plainly the real nature of the quarrel. For one side are Walter Merton, William le Polter, John Adrian, Henry de Coventry, and Thomas Basyng, all members of old City families; on the other side are Robert Grapefige, Alan the Capmaker, and Bartholomew the Grocer. It was while the dispute was still unsettled that the old King had died, and Walter Merton told the people at Paul’s Cross that they should have their Mayor. The new Mayor and Sheriffs set themselves to regulate the trade of the City, especially the sale of bread, meal, and provisions generally, and to pass laws for the punishment of those who gave short weight or adulterated food. The laws being passed, the City Fathers, as was customary in those times, sat down with the consciousness of having done their duty. The appointment of an executive force to insist upon the observance of the laws was an expedient not yet invented by the wit of man.

It is, however, another illustration of the upheaval and discontent of the people that in the third year of this reign, the juries of the wards made a presentment to the King complaining that although the City ought not to be tallaged except by order of the King, yet it had been on several occasions tallaged by the Mayor; and that although all the citizens were equal as regards their freedom and privileges, yet some of the Aldermen and others had obtained charters from Henry III. exempting them from tallage: in so much that all the tallage fell upon the middle sort and the poor, to their great loss and oppression.

The King further considered the complaints against the Jews for usury. They were forbidden to practise their trade; and it was ordained, as a mark of infamy, that every usurer should wear upon his breast a badge, the “breadth of a paveline,” in sign of his trade. This law was levelled at the Italian merchants, the men of the Pope, who traded in money and refused to obey any laws against the practice except those of the Pope. As for the unfortunate Jews, being deprived of the only trade open to them—if they were really deprived, but I think the edict was never enforced,—they took to clipping and diminishing the King’s coin—if they really did do so, but one doubts—and were all seized and imprisoned in one day: out of those so arrested in the City, two hundred and eighty were executed. Alas! poor Jews!

It is an illustration of the melancholy condition to which London was reduced by the late disastrous reign that in the year 1281 it was reported to the King that London Bridge had become so ruinous that it might any moment fall down. This was in consequence of the Queen of Henry III. having spent the revenues and rents upon herself, and left the fabric to fall into ruin, in so much that in 1282 a great frost happening, five of the piers were carried away by the ice. Edward ordered a toll of one penny for every horseman and one halfpenny for every saleable pack of goods that crossed the bridge, the toll to continue for three years. Grants of land, made to the City by Edward I. and following kings for the repair of the Bridge, prove that the citizens had recovered their ancient rights as to its custody.

Nor were the City Gates in much better case than the Bridge. Thus, the Hanseatic merchants enjoyed the privilege of trading in the City on the condition of keeping one of the Gates—Bishopsgate—in repair, and of defending it in case of siege. The condition was imposed by Henry III., but the merchants neglected the Gate so that it had by this time fallen into ruin. On being called upon to fulfil their contract they at first refused, but when the case was decided against them by the Court of Exchequer, they performed their duty with zeal, and a hundred and fifty years later, when the gate again fell into decay, they pulled it down and rebuilt it.

The brutality of the time is illustrated by the reception given to the head of Llewelyn, Prince of Wales. He had fled to the castle of Builth after losing his last battle. Here he was betrayed into the hands of Roger le Strange, who cut off his head with his sword and sent it to the King. Edward ordered that it should be carried to London. Consequently the head of the dead warrior was borne on a lance, crowned with a silver chaplet, through the streets with a cavalcade of men-at-arms, with trumpets and drums, and with the shouting of the people. Then it was stuck up on the Tower, crowned with a mock diadem. One remembers also the unspeakable indignities perpetrated on the dead body of Simon de Montfort.

All the histories of London notice the remarkable case of Lawrence Ducket mentioned by Fabyan. It occurred in the year 1284, and presents many points of mystery. Lawrence Ducket was a goldsmith who, in some kind of affray, wounded one Ralph Crepin in Westchepe. Immediately after the deed, it would seem, probably running away from the crowd, he took sanctuary in Bow Church tower. But certain friends of Crepin getting into the tower at night hanged Lawrence from one of the windows in such a manner that it seemed as if he had committed suicide. And a Coroner’s jury holding inquest on the body brought in a verdict of self-murder, whereupon the body was thrown into a cart, carried out of the City, and buried in a ditch. Then, however, a boy came forward and deposed that he was sleeping in the tower with Lawrence Ducket, and that he witnessed from a corner where he hid himself—the murder by certain persons whom he named. Arrests were made and more information obtained, in consequence of which it was discovered that a woman had contrived and designed this murder and sacrilege. She was burned alive. Sixteen were hanged; and many others, persons of consideration, were fined. A notable murder.

One remembers the quarrel between the Goldsmiths and the Tailors fifteen years before this. Was it a renewal of that, or some other old feud? That would seem the only way of accounting for so determined and so daring a revenge.

Two things are remarkable in the year 1285. First, the great conduit of Cheapside was set up in this year. It was a cistern of lead built round with stone and castellated. The water had been brought from Paddington fifty years before, but this was the first attempt to form a reservoir; the leaden pipes originally used were changed for wooden pipes formed by hollowing out trunks of trees. There were three sections: one of 510 rods from Paddington to “James’ Head”; one of 102 rods from “James’ Head on the hill” to the Mewsgate; from the Mewsgate to the Cross in Cheape, 484 rods. For a long time this conduit formed the sole supply of water brought in from without for the whole City excepting the foul waters of the Fleet and the Walbrook. There were, however, many private wells and springs in the City, and of water without the City there was a plentiful supply.

The second noticeable act of the year was the order of the Archbishop of Canterbury that all the Jews’ synagogues in the City should be destroyed. The hatred of the Jews was, it will be seen, rapidly becoming irresistible.

In 1285, also, thirteen years after the death of King Henry, there comes to light what is either an act of revenge or a curious survival of the spirit of discontent which placed the Londoners on the side of the barons. A citizen named Thomas Piwilesdon (? By Willesden) who in the time of the barons had been a great “doer, to stir the people against King Henry,” was arrested on the charge of compassing new disturbances. No doubt this was in connection with the efforts of the craftsmen. The Custos arrested him and banished him, with fifty others, out of the City for life.

What followed was, apparently, a concession to the merchants. The foreign traders had formerly been compelled to lodge in the houses of citizens and to sell their goods by procuration, through the London merchants. Afterwards being allowed to take houses and use them for storage and for sale, they were now charged with abusing the privilege in various ways; they caused their goods to be weighed by their private beams instead of the King’s beam; and they used false weights. Twenty of them were arrested and taken to the Tower; their false weights were publicly destroyed in West Chepe, and they themselves, after a long imprisonment, were fined a thousand pounds.

The City had sunk into a dreadful condition by the bad government of the mayors and sheriffs, the internal dissensions, and the general anarchy. The streets were nightly infested with companies of robbers and murderers; the crafts, especially those whose work overlapped each other, were perpetually quarrelling; there was dissension everywhere; the old order was breaking up. For a time it was well that London should cease to elect her Mayor. Moreover, there were examples of this despotic remedy under Henry III. The Sheriff of the year 1285 was Gregory Rockesley, who was a goldsmith. With his friend Henry Waleys he had taken turns in holding the chief office of the City. Waleys was a vintner. Both were wealthy men and of good repute with the King. In 1275 Henry Waleys stepped from the Mayoralty of London into that of Bordeaux. In 1274 Rockesley held no office in London, because he was sent to Flanders on an embassy. The following table will illustrate the position in the City of these two merchants.

• 1264. Gregory Rockesley is one of the Sheriffs.
• 1271. Sheriffs, Gregory Rockesley and Henry Waleys.
• 1274. Mayor, Henry Waleys.
• 1275. Mayor, Gregory Rockesley.
• 1276. Mayor, Gregory Rockesley.
• 1277. Mayor, Gregory Rockesley.
• 1278. Mayor, Gregory Rockesley.
• 1279. Mayor, Gregory Rockesley.
• 1280. Mayor, Gregory Rockesley.
• 1281. Mayor, Gregory Rockesley.
• 1282. Mayor, Henry Waleys.
• 1283. Mayor, Henry Waleys.
• 1284. Mayor, Henry Waleys.
• 1285. Mayor, Gregory Rockesley.
• 1286-1297. No Mayor.
• 1298. Mayor, Henry Waleys.

So that in thirteen years no other citizen was put forward as Mayor except these two, and when the City after twelve years returned to its old constitution, one of these two—probably the survivor—became once more Mayor.

In the year 1285 Edward took over the City into his own hands in the manner following. On the feast of St. Peter and St. Paul (June 29) the Lord Treasurer summoned the Mayor to the Tower there to give an account of his keeping of the peace. The summons was an infraction upon the liberties of the City (see also vol. ii. part i. ch. iv.). Gregory Rockesley, however, without formally refusing to obey, marched in procession with the City Fathers as far as Barking Church. Here he cast aside his gown, his collar, his rings, and dismissed his officers, and entered the Tower as a private person there appearing before the Justices. They asked him what he meant. He replied that as mayor he was not bound to appear before any Court beyond the liberties of the City. I think that we may assume that this question and this answer had been arranged beforehand, because it was most unlikely that the Treasurer was ignorant of the City’s Charters. Rockesley was allowed to retire. Next day, he and the principal citizens were arrested and put in prison. The King, “finding the City without a Mayor,” took it into his own hands and appointed as Custos Sir Ralph Sandwich. After this everybody was released and the Custos remained in charge.

The whole story shows previous arrangement. The only two men who seemed possible for the post of Mayor were growing old; the office was more onerous than they could well bear; the City grew daily more lawless; deeds of violence were more rife; the quarrels of the craftsmen more frequent; street fights more common; the arm of the law weaker. But the King was strong, there was no doubt on that point. Long before his accession Edward had proved to the citizens that he was strong and just and inflexible. Let the King take over the City and keep possession till the restoration of good order. Not by trampling on the Charters. Let it be done by a legal quibble.

So it was all arranged, and Gregory Rockesley, being released from prison, retired from office to the quiet management of his own affairs. As we hear no more about him we may assume that he was probably dead when the citizens returned to the election of their Mayor. And the King finding the City without a mayor appointed a Custos in his own name. One of the citizens, Aswy, Alderman of Chepe, was kept in prison a little longer, for some other reason, which we are not able to learn. The new Custos, it is evident, was a strong man. He not only knew how to make laws but he enforced them. He would allow no foreigner to wear any weapon, nor to be abroad after curfew; and since the late disturbances took place chiefly by night, all people wandering about the streets after dark were liable to be arrested and clapped into the Tun of Cornhill. No vintners or victuallers were to keep their shops open after curfew: and, since many lewd persons learned the art of fencing as a help to their disorderly conduct, all schools of fencing were closed: the Aldermen were enjoined to make a visitation of their wards and to arrest rogues and bring them to punishment. As a practical example, the Custos arrested fifty-eight persons and banished them from the City. Then the hearts of honest men were gladdened. They had got a just and strong King who had appointed a just and strong Custos. The laws would be obeyed. As for the City liberties, they would doubtless be restored when the City had purged herself and was ready to live a cleanly and reputable life. Another important step was taken. It was ordered, with the view of securing for the King an army of defence in case of need, every man was to have arms and armour according to his rank, and that the armour should be inspected twice a year; and, further, for the better security of the City that every gate should be guarded by six men and should be closed from sunset to sunrise.

This strong king, by another act of justice accomplished at the same time, filled the souls of wrongdoers in high places with terror. This was the punishment of the King’s Justiciars for the delays and corruptions with which they had conducted their Courts. Twelve Judges were found guilty and condemned in various penalties and fines. The Chief Justice was stripped of all his property and banished. Another was fined 32,000 marks, an enormous sum of money; the rest were fined from one thousand to seven thousand marks.

Respect for the law, after a long period of lawlessness, was the lesson which the nation had to learn. In London it was sternly taught the citizens by the King’s Custos, Sir Ralph Sandwich. And first by the example of the foreign merchants: for finding them justly charged with short measure and false weight, he imprisoned them all in the Tower, and fined them a thousand pounds. This punishment struck a salutary terror into the heart of many an honest trader: quart pots, for instance, were everywhere restored to their original dimensions by the removal of the pitch which had raised up the bottom. Another useful lesson was given when a rescue was attempted. The Sheriff was haling a criminal to prison when three misguided citizens assaulted him and forcibly released the man. They were promptly arrested, tried, and sentenced to have their right hands struck off. It is a punishment which one would not willingly see revived; at the same time, it may be acknowledged that the spectacle of these unhappy stumps must have reminded the citizens every day of the respect due to a magistrate. It was an object lesson which continued till the death of the last survivor of the three. And another lesson was taught them when some of the principal citizens broke open the Tun prison and set the prisoners free. They were themselves imprisoned and the City was fined 20,000 marks.

In the year 1295 there happened a thing happily most unusual in the annals of the country—the deliberate venal treachery of a knight esteemed honourable and loyal as he was already proved to be courageous. There is an account of the case in Holinshed; Stow and others briefly notice it; the fullest account, however, is that of Bartholomew Cotton, quoted in the Appendix to the Chronicles of Old London (FitzThedmar):—

“In the same year (A.D. 1295) a certain knight, Thomas Turbevile by name, who had been taken by the French at the siege of Rheims, and detained in prison by the said King of France, came over to England with traitorous designs, and said that he had escaped from prison of the said King of France: whereupon, he was kindly received by our Lord the King of England, and much honoured. But after he had remained some little time in the Court of our Lord the King of England aforesaid, he attempted to send a certain letter to the King of France: whereupon, his messenger carried the same to our Lord the King of England and gave him a full and open account of the treachery of his employer. The traitor, suspecting this, took to flight, but was taken shortly after. The tenor of his treasonable letter was as follows:—

The whole of the letter need not be quoted here. It proved the treason of the man up to the hilt.

“‘And know that the King is sending into Gascoigne twenty ships laden with wheat and oats, and with other provisions and a large amount of money: and Sir Edmund the King’s brother will go thither, and the Earle of Nichole, Sir Hugh le Despenser, the Earl of Warwyk, and many other good folks: and this you may tell to the high Lord. And know that we think we have enough to do against those of Scotland! and if those of Scotland rise against the King of England, the Welsh will rise also. And this I have well contrived, and Morgan has covenanted with me to that effect. Wherefore I counsel you forthwith to send great persons into Scotland: for if you can enter therein, you will have gained it for ever.’”

The said Thomas was seized on the Saturday next before the Feast of Saint Michael, and taken to the Tower of London: and on the Saturday next after the Feast of Saint Faith (October 6) he had his trial, and departed in manner underwritten:—He came from the Tower, mounted on a poor hack, in a coat of ray, and shod with white shoes, his head being covered with a hood, and his feet tied beneath the horse’s belly, and his hands tied before him: and around him were riding six torturers attired in the form of the devil, one of whom held his rein, and the hangman his halter, for the horse which bore him had them both upon it: and in such a manner was he led from the Tower through London to Westminster, and was condemned on the dais in the Great Hall there: and Sir Roger Brabazun pronounced judgment on him, that he should be drawn and hanged, and that he should hang so long as anything should be left whole of him: and he was drawn on a fresh ox-hide from Westminster to the Conduit of London, and then back to the gallows: and there is he hung by a chain of iron, and will hang so long as anything of him may remain.

In the year 1290 Edward lost his Queen, Eleanor of Castile, and to show his grief for her death he erected crosses of a beautiful design at all the stopping-places of the funeral procession on its way from Nottingham to London. It may be remembered that one of the suggested derivations of Charing Cross is “ChÈre reine,” in allusion to the cross there. The present cross in the station courtyard is on the model of the ancient one, though not exactly like it.

In the same year those remaining of the Jews were banished, their lands and houses were seized; though they were suffered to carry with them their portable property. The hardships endured by these unfortunate people are spoken of elsewhere (see p. 9). The following simple story of brutal murder is related by Holinshed (vol. ii.):—

“A sort of the richest of them, being shipped with their treasure in a mightie tall ship which they had hired, when the same was under saile, and got downe the Thames towards the mouth of the river beyond Quinborowe, the maister mariner bethought him of a wile, and caused his men to cast anchor, and so rode at the same, till the ship by ebbing of the stream remained on the drie sands. The maister herewith entised the Jewes to walke out with him on land for recreation. And at length, when he understood the tide to be coming in, he got him backe to the ship, whither he was drawne up by a cord. The Jewes made not so much hast as he did, bicause they were not aware of the danger. But when they perceived how the matter stood, they cried to him for helpe; howbeit he told them, that they ought to crie rather unto Moses, by whose conduct their fathers had passed through the Red Sea, and therefore, if they would call to him for helpe, he was able inough to helpe them out of those raging floods, which now came in upon them; they cried indeed, but no succour appeared, and so they were swallowed up in the water. The maister returned with the ship, and told the King how he had used the matter, and had both thanks and reward, as some have written. But other affirme (and more trulie as should seem) that diverse of those mariners, which dealt so wickedlie against the Jewes, were hanged for their wicked practise, and so received a just reward of their fraudulent and mischeevous dealing.”

In the end the banishment of the Jews brought no alleviation to those who wanted to borrow money. The Lombards and the Caursini proved as flinty-hearted in the matter of interest as any Jew had been.

Edward granted but one Charter to the City. This was in 1298, when the Mayor was restored to the City. It is simply a Charter of Confirmation. The citizens are to have all their old liberties together with the right of electing their Mayor and Sheriffs. The election of Henry Waleys as the first of the new series showed that the preponderance of power was still with the aristocratic class. Edward’s financial embarrassments and his wars belong to the history of the country. As regards the City, Edward borrowed money of the Italian Companies (see p. 212); he created knights by the hundred; he searched the monasteries and churches for treasure; he seized the lay fees of the clergy; he got £2000 out of the City in recognition of his knighting the Mayor; and he persuaded, or ordered, the Londoners to furnish him with three ships, forty men mounted and equipped, and fifty arbalisters for the defence of the southern coast.

After the King’s victorious campaign in Scotland, he was welcomed on his return with a procession and pageant most magnificent. The houses were hung high with scarlet cloth; the trades and crafts appeared, each offering some device or “subtlety” showing its kind of work. Thus, the fishmongers marched with four gilt sturgeons and four silver salmon on horses; they also equipped forty-six knights in full armour, riding horses “made like luces of the sea”; the knights were followed by St. Magnus—his church is at the bottom of Fish Street—with a thousand horsemen.

On August 10, 1305, Westminster witnessed a trial surpassed by few in interest and importance—that of the patriot Sir William Wallace, who had been captured in his Highland retreat by treachery, and had been brought to London. Wallace was at this time not more than thirty years of age: in the full vigour of manhood and of genius. He had filled his short life with fights and forays. As a hero of romance, the ideal patriot, all kinds of legends and stories have accumulated round his name. All we know for certain about him is that he was at the head of an army gathered from that part of the Lowlands lying north of the Tay; that without the help of the Scottish earls or barons he defeated the English at Stirling and drove them out of the country; and though he was defeated at Falkirk he awakened in the hearts of the Scots the spirit of independence: he made them a nation. On his arrival in London the illustrious prisoner was taken to the house of a private citizen, William De Leyre by name, who lived in the parish of Allhallows the Great. It does not appear why he was not taken to the Tower. Perhaps it was desired to attach as little importance as possible in the case. “Great numbers,” however, according to Stow, “both men and women came out to wonder upon him.... On the morrow, being the eve of St. Bartholomew, he was brought on horseback to Westminster, John Segrave and Geoffrey, knights, the Mayor, Sheriffs and Aldermen of London and many others, both on horseback and on foot, accompanying him: and in the Great Hall at Westminster he being placed on the south bench, crowned with lawrel—for that he had said in time past that he ought to bear a crown in that hall as it was commonly reported—and being appeached as a traitor by Sir Peter Mallorie the King’s Justice, he answered that he was never traitor to the King of England: but for other things whereof he was accused”—what were those other things?—“he confessed them.” What he pleaded was, in fact, that he could be no traitor because he owed no allegiance to the King of England. It is clear from this statement that the name and fame of William Wallace were spread over the whole of England; and that the man who had driven out the English and ravaged Northumberland and defied the conqueror, was sent up to London as a captive fore-doomed to death. The prentices ran and shouted; the women looked out of the upper chambers—pity that a man so gallant, who rode as if to his wedding instead of his death, should have to die the death of a traitor. As for the manner of his death, it followed the usual ceremony: first he was dragged at the heels of horses to the place of execution, the Elms at Smithfield; he was placed on a hurdle, otherwise he would have been dead long before reaching the place, for from Westminster Hall to the Elms, Smithfield, is two miles at least. There were multitudes waiting at Smithfield to see this gallant Scot done to death. First they hanged him on a high gallows, but only for the ignominy of it, not to kill him; then they took the rope from his neck, laid him down, took out his bowels and performed other mutilations which one hopes were done when the life was out of him. Then they cut up his body and distributed it in parts: some to rejoice the hearts of the English on London Bridge, at Newcastle, at Berwick: and of the Scots at Perth and Aberdeen. The business was as barbarous as possible, but it was the fashion of the time. Two hundred and fifty years later in the reign of Queen Elizabeth the same punishment in all its details was inflicted upon Babington and his friends. Three hundred and eighty years later almost the same punishment was inflicted upon Monmouth’s adherents. The execution itself, apart from the cruel manner of it, which belonged to the time, is generally condemned as a blot upon the life and reign of the great Edward. Perhaps, however, the history of the case may show some reason for an act quite contrary in spirit to the King’s usual treatment of the indomitable Scots. After the overtures of Balliol, the Scottish lords swore homage to Edward. Wallace alone—a simple knight—refused to recognise the surrender, called the people to arms, against the wish of nobles and priests, drove the English out of Scotland and led a foray into Northumberland. At the battle of Falkirk the Scots were defeated and cut to pieces, Wallace himself escaping with difficulty. That was in 1298. But the struggle was continued. For six years Edward was occupied with other troubles. When, in 1304, he again invaded the country, the Scottish lords laid down their arms and the conquest of Scotland was accomplished without further bloodshed. A general amnesty was extended to all. But the name of Wallace was excluded—“let him submit to the grace of the King, if so it seemeth him good.” Wallace would not submit: he retreated to the Highlands, where he was captured.

In every age civilised war is governed by certain rules: one must play the game according to these rules. One of them is that when the King has accepted peace, there shall be peace. Wallace might be supposed to have broken that rule. His country had submitted formally: he alone stood out. Patriot he was, no doubt. So was Andreas Hofer; but irregular warfare everywhere is treated as treason or rebellion. And therefore the King, who might well have shown a magnanimous clemency, was justified in his own eyes in putting Sir William Wallace to a shameful end.

The opinion of the English people upon Wallace may be understood from that of Matthew of Westminster, who pours a shower of abuse upon his head. William Wallace is “an outcast from pity, a robber, a sacrilegious man, an incendiary, a homicide, a man more cruel than the cruelty of Herod, more insane than the fury of Nero.” He made men and women in the North of England dance naked before him; he murdered infants; burnt boys in schools “in great numbers,” and at last ran away and deserted his people.

It remains to be added that Wallace’s head was the first of many which decorated London Bridge.

The remarkable robbery of the King’s Treasury by Podelicote took place in 1305.

In the same year the King offered an excellent example of obedience to the laws by sending his son, Prince Edward, to prison for riotously breaking into the park of Walter Langton, Bishop of Chester, and at the same time banished from the realm the Prince’s companion and unworthy friend, Piers Gaveston.

On July 7, 1307, King Edward died while on his way to carry out his vow of vengeance against Bruce.

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CHAPTER VI
EDWARD II

The least worthy, or the most worthless, of all the English sovereigns, was the first who sat upon the sacred stone of Scone, brought into England by Edward I. The coronation was held on February 25, 1308, the Queen being crowned with the King. The Mayor and Aldermen took part in the function and in the banquet afterwards.

The history of this miserable reign chiefly consists of the troubles caused by the King’s favourites. London, however, played a large part in the events arising out of their quarrels. In the autumn of 1308, the first year of the King’s reign, the Barons succeeded in getting Piers Gaveston banished. In 1309, however, he was back again and was made Earl of Cornwall, “to the great detriment of the realm” (French Chronicle). The indignation of the Barons waxed daily greater against the favourite, who lavished the wealth that was heaped upon him in ostentation and display. We must remember the strong feeling of the time that rank should be marked by such display as we now call ostentation. An Earl, for instance, was expected to carry about with him a great retinue; to wear costly armour; to give his followers a rich livery; and to keep up a noble house. But Piers Gaveston, whatever rank the King had conferred upon him, was a foreigner and an upstart, the son of a simple Gascon knight. That he was enabled to exhibit the display which befitted an ancient House made the nobles recall his origin. Besides, the man had a ready wit and a keen tongue. He gave every one of the Barons a nickname. Lancaster was the “old hog” or the “churl”; Gloucester the “cuckold’s bird” or the “Bastard”; Lincoln was “Bursten bellie”; Pembroke was “Joseph the Jew”; Warwick was the “Black hound of Arderne”; and so with the others.

There had been trouble about this favourite in the late King’s reign. In 1305, as we have seen, Edward put his son in prison for riotously breaking into a Bishop’s park, “and because the Prince had done this deed by the procurement of a lewd and wanton person, one Piers Gaveston, an Esquire of Gascoine; the King banished him the nation, lest the Prince, who delighted much in his company, might, by his evil and wanton counsel, fall to evill and naughtie rule.” (Holinshed.)

The first thing the new King did, then, was to recall his favourite and to create him Earl of Cornwall. He also married him to his niece, the daughter of his sister Joan, and of Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Gloucester.

The favourite repaid these favours as might be expected. He furnished the Court, Holinshed says, with “companies of jesters, ruffians, flattering parasites, musicians, and other vile and naughtie ribalds, that the King might spend both daies and nights in jesting, plaieng, blanketing, and other filthie and dishonourable exercises.”

How the Barons remonstrated with the King; how they took Gaveston prisoner under promise to deliver him to the King; how they broke that promise and beheaded him, is to be read in every history of England.

It is noted by Sharpe as one reason for the hatred which the citizens of London as well as the Barons felt towards this and the following favourites, that they were always soliciting small favours from the citizens for their own friends. “At one time,” he writes, “it was Piers Gaveston who wanted a post for his valet: at another time Hugh le Despenser asked for the Small Beam for a friend.”

It was before this, however, that the Barons appointed “ordainers” to draw up ordinances for the better government of the City. When their work was completed it was laid before a Parliament which assembled at the Black Friars, and here it received sanction. The ordinances were afterwards proclaimed at St. Paul’s Cross.

In March 1311 the City gave the King the sum of 1000 marks. The Mayor, Richard de Refham, who belonged to the popular party, caused an examination of all the charters and documents concerning the City liberties. He then read them publicly, and asked the people if they were resolved upon the maintenance of their liberties. He also took steps to clear the streets of the night-walkers and “roreres” who for a long time had committed murders and robberies unchecked. The entries in Riley’s Memorials of London under the year 1311 show the activity of this Mayor’s reign. He would tolerate no abusive language in his Court; he would not allow trades which were a nuisance to be carried on in the street, such as the skinning of dead horses, the dressing of fur, etc.; he arrested and committed to prison a great number of rogues, criminals, and strumpets. He strengthened and guarded the Gates, keeping a night watch of sixteen men for every one. Perhaps his activity made enemies, for he was deposed before his term of office had expired. The French Chronicle, however, says nothing about any deposition.

In November 1312 a son was born to the King, named Edward of Windsor. The following account shows how such an event was received and celebrated by the loyal citizens:—

The Queen herself sent a letter to the citizens.

“Isabel by the grace of God, Queen of England, Lady of Ireland, and Duchess of Aquitaine, to our well-beloved, the Mayor, and Aldermen, and the Commonalty of London, greeting. Forasmuch as we believe that you would willingly hear good tidings of us, we do make known to you that our Lord in His grace has delivered us of a son, on the 13th day of November with safety to ourselves, and to the child. May our Lord preserve you. Given at Wyndesore, on the day above-named.”

“Of this letter the bearer was John de Phalaise, tailor to the Queen: and he came on the Tuesday next after the feast of St. Martin (November 11) in the 6th year of the reign of King Edward, son of King Edward. But as the news had been brought by Robert Oliver on the Monday before, the Mayor and Aldermen, and great part of the Commonalty, assembled in the Guildhall at time of Vespers and carolled, and showed great joy thereat; and so passed through the City, with glare of torches, and with trumpets and other ministrelsies.

And on the Tuesday next, early in the morning, cry was made throughout all the City to the effect that there was to be no work, labour, or business in shop, on that day; but that every one was to apparel himself in the most becoming manner that he could, and come to the Guildhall at the hour for Prime: ready to go with the Mayor, together with other good folks, to St. Paul’s there to make praise and offering, to the honour of God, who had shown them such favour on earth, and to show respect for this child that had been born. And after this, they were to return all together to the Guildhall, to do whatever might be enjoined.

On the Wednesday following, the Mayor, by assent of the Aldermen, and of others of the Commonalty, gave to the said John de Phalaise, bearer of the letter aforesaid, ten pounds sterling and a cup of silver, four marks in weight. And on the morrow, this same John de Phalaise sent back the present aforesaid because it seemed to him too little.

On the Monday following, the Mayor was richly costumed, and the Aldermen arrayed in like suits of robes; and the drapers, mercers, and vintners were in costume; and they rode on horseback thence to Westminster, and there made offering, and then returned to the Guildhall, which was excellently well tapestried and dressed out, and there they dined. And after dinner they went in carols throughout the City all the rest of the day, and great part of the night. And on the same day the Conduit in Chepe ran with nothing but wine for all those who chose to drink there. And at the Cross just by the Church of St. Michael in West Chepe, there was a pavilion extended in the middle of the street, in which was set a tun of wine, for all passers-by to drink of, who might wish for any.”

In 1313 an important case was argued before the Royal Council sitting at the White Friars. The King had issued orders for a tallage which the City refused to pay on various grounds, but especially on the ground that their charters granted them exemption from tallage. By lending the King £1000 they obtained a postponement of the question till the meeting of Parliament. When Parliament did meet, eighteen months later, they obtained a further postponement by another loan of £400, part of which was devoted to the equipment of 120 men for the Scottish war.

In the years 1314 and 1315 there was a dearth, and many died of hunger. “There followed this famine”—Stow’s Chronicle—“a grievous mortalitie of people, so that the quicke might unneath bury the dead. The Beastes and Cattell also by the corrupt Grasse whereof they fedde, dyed, whereby it came to passe that the eating of flesh was suspected of all men, for flesh of Beastes not corrupted was hard to finde. Horseflesh was counted great delicates; the poore stole fatte Dogges to eate; some (as it was sayde) compelled through famine, in hidde places, did eate the fleshe of their owne children, some stole others which they devoured. Thieves that were in prisons, did plucke in peeces those that were newly brought amongst them and greedily devoured them half alive.” In 1315 there was also a storm which damaged Holborn Bridge and Fleet Bridge.

In the years 1316, 1317, and 1318, under the Mayoralty of John de Wengrave, Recorder and Coroner of the City and Alderman of Chepe, there were dissensions in the City.

The French Chronicle lays the blame upon the Mayor, who, he says, “did much evil in his time to the Commons.” They were drawing up for submission to the King certain Articles for the more regular Government of the City. As John de Wengrave owed his third election to the King it was not unreasonable to suppose that he was acting in the interest of the King rather than that of the citizens. However, the articles were confirmed by the King, who got £1000 in return. The Charter touches on a great many points, most of them fruitful in quarrels and disturbances. The analysis of the Charter given in the Liber Albus is as follows:—

“That the Mayor and Sheriffs of London shall be chosen by the citizens of that City according to the tenor of their Charters, and in no other manner.

That the Mayor of the said City shall not remain in office as such Mayor beyond one year at a time.

Also, that no Sheriff of the City shall have more than two clerks and two serjeants by reason of his office, and those, persons for whom he shall be willing to answer.

Also, that the Mayor of the said City, so long as he shall be Mayor, shall hold no other office pertaining unto that City than such office of Mayor.

Also, that the Mayor shall not demand to have brought before him, or hold, any plea that belongs to the Sheriff’s Court.

Also, that the Aldermen of that City shall be removable yearly, and be removed, on the day of Saint Gregory (12th March), and in the year following shall not be re-elected, but others (shall be elected) in their stead, etc.

Also, that the tallages, after being assessed by the men of the Wards thereunto deputed, shall not be augmented or increased by the Mayor and Aldermen, except with the common consent of the Mayor and commonalty.

Also, that the monies arising from such tallages shall be in the keeping of four reputable men, commoners of the said City.

Also, that no stranger shall be admitted to the freedom of the said City, except at the Hustings.

Also, that an inhabitant, and especially an Englishman by birth, a trader of a certain mystery or craft, shall not be admitted to the freedom of the City aforesaid except upon the security of six reputable men, of such certain mystery or craft, etc.

Also, that enquiry shall be made each year, if any persons enjoying the freedom of the City have traded with the property of others who are not of the freedom, avowing that such goods are their own. And those who shall be lawfully convicted thereof, shall lose the freedom.

Also, that all who wish to enjoy the freedom of the City shall be in Lot and Scot, and partakers of all burdens for (maintaining) the state of the City, etc.

Also, that all persons of the freedom of the City, and dwelling without the said City, who by themselves and their servants follow a trade within the City, shall be in Lot and Scot with the commoners of the same City, etc., or shall be removed from the freedom thereof.

Also, that the Common Seal shall be in the keeping of two Aldermen and two commoners, by the commonalty to be chosen, and that the same shall not be denied to poor or to rich.

Also, that the giving of judgment in the Courts of the City, after verdict (given), shall not be deferred, unless some difficulty intervene. And if such difficulty shall intervene, such verdicts shall not stand over beyond the third Court.

Also, that the weights and beams for weighing merchandize as between merchant and merchant, the issues of which belong to the commonalty, shall be in the keeping of reputable men, by the commonalty to be chosen.

Also, that the Sheriffs may entrust the charge of collecting toll and other customs into their ferm pertaining, as also other public duties unto themselves belonging, to sufficient men for whom they shall be willing to answer.

Also, that merchants who are not of the freedom, etc., shall not sell wines or other wares by retail within the said City.

Also, that in future there shall be no brokers of any merchandize in the said City, but those who have been chosen thereto by the traders of their mysteries; and that they shall be sworn before the Mayor.

Also, that common hostelers, although they may not be of the freedom of the same City, shall be partakers of all (burdens) unto the said City pertaining, etc. Saving always, that the merchants of Gascoigne and other strangers may dwell and keep hostels for each other in the said City, in such manner as they have heretofore been wont to do.

Also, that the keeping of the Bridge shall be entrusted unto two reputable men of the City aforesaid, other than the Aldermen thereof.

Also, that no Serjeant of the Chamber at the Guildhall shall take a fee of the commonalty, etc., or do execution, unless he be one elected by the commonalty thereto.

Also, that the Chamberlain, Common Clerk (and) Common Serjeant of the City, shall be chosen and removed by the commonalty, at the will of the same commonalty.

Also, that the Mayor, Recorder, and the Chamberlain and Common Clerk aforesaid, shall be content with their fees, from of old appointed and paid.

Also, that the property of the Aldermen of the said City shall be taxed in aids, tallages, and contributions, by the men of the Wards in which such Aldermen shall be residing, in the same manner as the property of the other citizens of the same Wards.

Also, that the Aldermen and commonalty, for the necessities and advantage of the said City, may among themselves assess and levy tallages upon their property within the said City, rents as well as other things.” (Riley’s Trans. pp. 127-129.)

According to this Charter the only way to the civic franchise was by becoming a member of the civic guilds: “That no inhabitant, of any mystery or trade, be admitted into the freedom of the City, unless by surety of six honest and sufficient men of the mystery or trade that he shall be of”—a fact which proves the importance of the guilds. “At this time,” says the French Chronicle, “many of the people of the trades of London were arrayed in Livery and a good time was about to begin.” But few of the trades were as yet incorporated.

The history of this unhappy reign, as concerns the City, is much occupied with charges, claims, and attacks upon the rights of the citizens of London. In these, the King was advised or led, by men who understood how to evade and to ignore the law. Edward II., like his predecessor Henry III., and his successor Richard II., was always in want of money and never without advisers to show him how to extort money from the City, whose wealth they believed to be inexhaustible. Among the last of these attempts was one made in the year 1321 by means of an Iter. The business is passed over by Maitland, Holinshed, and by the French Chronicle. Its history is related by R. R. Sharpe (London and the Kingdom). He says:

“Its professed object was to examine into unlawful colligations, confederations, and conventions by oaths, which were known (or supposed) to have been formed in the City. The annoyance caused by this Iter, the general stoppage of trade and commerce, the hindrance of municipal business, is realised when we consider that for six months not only the Mayor, Sheriffs, and Aldermen for the time being, but every one who had filled any office in the City since the holding of the last Iter—a period of nearly half a century—as well as twelve representatives from each ward, were called upon to be in constant attendance. All charters were to be produced, and persons who had grievances of any kind were invited to appear. Great commotion prevailed among the citizens upon receiving the King’s writ, and they at once addressed themselves to examining the procedure followed at former Iters.” ...

“The opening of the Iter did not augur well for the City. Fault was found at the outset, by Geoffrey le Scrop, the King’s Sergeant-pleader, because the Sheriffs had not attended so promptly as they should have done. The excuse, that they had only acted according to custom in waiting for the grant of a safe-conduct, was held unsatisfactory, and nothing would please him but that the City should be at once taken into the King’s hand.

Again, when the citizens claimed to record their liberties and customs by word of mouth without being compelled to reduce them into writing, as the justices had ordered, the only reply they got was that they did so at their own peril. Three days were consumed in preliminary discussion of points of etiquette and questions of minor importance.

On the fourth day the Mayor and citizens put in their claim of liberties, which they supported in various charters. The justiciars desired answers on three points, which were duly made, and matters seemed to be getting forward when there arrived orders from the King that the justiciars should inquire as to the ancient right of the Aldermen to record their liberties orally in the King’s Courts. Having heard what the citizens had to say on this point, the justiciars were instructed to withhold their judgment; and this and other questions touching the liberties of the City were to be postponed for future determination.

On the ninth day of the Iter, a long schedule, containing over a hundred articles upon which the Crown desired information, was delivered to each ward of the City. Days and weeks were consumed in considering various presentments, besides private suits and pleas of the Crown. Suits were determined in the Great Hall of the Tower facing the Thames, whilst pleas of the Crown were heard in the Lesser Hall, beneath the eastern tower. The justiciars occasionally protracted their sittings till dusk, much to the disgust of the citizens, whose business was necessarily at a stand-still, and as yet no indictments had been made. These were to come.”

First on a pretext of dilatory attendance the Sheriffs were reproved and the City taken into the King’s hands; then, when the citizens put in their claims and pleaded their rights, everything was disputed, discussed, and deferred. The Mayor was deposed, and one Richard de Kendole took his place as the King’s Commissioner; indictments were issued against certain leading citizens on one pretext or another; and after five weary months the Iter was brought to an abrupt conclusion, having effected nothing. The reason of this was the rebellion of the Earl of Hereford, which made it dangerous to exasperate the citizens too much. The King’s Commissioner retired and a new Mayor was elected.

The Earl of Hereford wrote a letter to the City asking for an interview. The Mayor, Hamo de Chigwell, a diplomatist of a high order, managed so as to keep on terms both with the King and the Lords. He promised that he would not aid the Spensers nor would he oppose the Lords: the City, in a word, proclaimed neutrality. The Mayor preserved order by a patrol of a thousand men. The events which followed belong to the history of England; London played her part: she sent a contingent with the King to punish Sir Bartholomew de Badlesmere for an insult offered to the Queen; she gave the king 500 archers to fight at Boroughbridge, when the Earl of Lancaster was taken prisoner. After taking part in the defeat of Lancaster the people of London set him up as a Saint: they declared that miracles were wrought at his tomb. Edward tried to force a “Charter of Service” binding the Londoners to go out with him to war, but the City stood firm: Edward’s time was nearly completed. The Queen came over with the avowed intention of banishing the Spensers. The King fled from London, and London rose in open revolt. Edward, before leaving, placed the town in the hands of Sir John de Weston, gave the custody of the City to Walter Stapleton, Bishop of Exeter, and then set out for the western part of the kingdom, for the defence of his favourites, and, as it turned out, to meet his death. The determination with which the Prince constantly stood by his favourites argues obstinacy at least as a quality which might have been turned to better purpose.

Hamo de Chigwell, who was a fishmonger, seems to have led one party and Nicholas Farringdon, a goldsmith, another; but the King appears to have set up and deposed both in turn and with impartiality. In 1326, when the Queen was in Flanders and her lands were seized, Hamo de Chigwell was Mayor. The streets of London were every day the scene of rioting and fighting; the trades fought with each other; the partisans of the Queen fought with the partisans of the King. When the Queen came over bringing her son with her she sent a letter to London with a proclamation denouncing the Spensers. This proclamation amid the cheers of the people was affixed to the Cross in Chepe. Hamo de Chigwell forsook his post and fled to the Black Friars for safety. Hither came the commons and forced him to proclaim the enemies of the King and Queen and their son. And they showed that they meant what they said by seizing one William Marshall, an adherent of the Spensers, and murdering him. It is a curious story of wild justice. The City was for some time entirely in the hands of the common people, who robbed and murdered all suspected of being favourable to the King and the Spensers. The events are thus graphically related by the French Chronicle:—

“At this time, at Saint Michael, Lady Isabelle, the Queen, and Sir Edward, her son, sent their letters to the commons of London, to the effect that they should assist in destroying the enemies of the land: but received no answer in return, as to their wishes thereon, through fear of the King. Wherefore a letter was sent to London by the Queen and her son, and was fixed at daybreak upon the Cross in Chepe, and a copy of the letter on the windows elsewhere, upon Thursday, that is to say, the Feast of Saint Dionis (October 9), to the effect that the commons should be aiding with all their power in destroying the enemies of the land, and Hugh le Despenser in especial, for the common profit of all the realm: and that the commons should send them information as to their wishes thereon. Wherefore the commonalty proceeded to wait upon the Mayor and other great men of the City at the Friars Preachers in London, upon the Wednesday before the Feast of Saint Luke (October 18), which then fell on a Saturday: so much so, that the Mayor, crying mercy with clasped hands, went to the Guildhall and granted the commons their demand, and cry was accordingly made in Chepe, that the enemies to the King, and the Queen, and their son, should all quit the City upon such peril as might ensue. It happened also on the same day, at the hour of noon, that some persons had recourse to arms, and seized one John le Marchal, a burgess of the City, in his own house near Walbrok, who was held as an enemy to the City and a spy of Sir Hugh le Despenser; and he was brought into Chepe and there despoiled and beheaded. Just after this, upon the same day and at the same hour, there came one Sir Walter de Stapelton, the then Bishop of Exestre and Treasurer to the King the year before, riding towards his hostel in Eldedeaneslane, to dine there; and just then he was proclaimed a traitor; upon hearing of which, he took to flight and rode towards Saint Paul’s Church, where he was met, and instantly dragged from his horse and carried into Chepe; and there he was despoiled, and his head cut off. Also, one of his esquires, who was a vigorous man, William Walle by name, took to flight, but was seized at London Bridge, brought back into Chepe and beheaded; while John de Padington, another, who was warden of the manor of the said Bishop, without Temple Bar, and was held in bad repute, was beheaded the same day in Chepe. Upon the same day, towards Vespers, came the choir of Saint Paul’s and took the headless body of the said Bishop, and carried it to Saint Paul’s Church: where they were given to understand that he had died under sentence: upon which, the body was carried to the church of Saint Clement without Temple Bar. But the people of that church put it out of the building: whereupon certain women and persons in the most abject poverty took the body, which would have been quite naked, had not one woman given a piece of old cloth to cover the middle, and buried it in a place apart without making a grave, and his esquire near him all naked, and without any office of priest or clerk: and this spot is called ‘the Lawless Church.’ The same night there was a burgess robbed, John de Charltone by name. Also, on the Thursday following, the Manors of Fynesbury and of Yvilane, which belonged to Master Robert Baldok, the King’s Chancellor, were despoiled of the wines and of all things that were therein, and many other robberies were committed in the City. Also, upon the same day, the commons of London were armed and assembled at the Lede Hall on Cornhille, and the Constable of the Tower there agreed with the commons that he would deliver unto them Sir John de Eltham, the King’s son; as also, the children of Sir Roger Mortimer, Sir Moriz de Berklee, Sir Bartholomew de Burghasche, and the other persons who had been imprisoned in the Tower, by reason of the dissensions for which Sir Thomas de Lancaster and other great men had been put to death: those who were released being sworn unto the commons that they would live and die with them in that cause, and that they would maintain the well being of the City and the peace thereof. Also, there were sworn and received into the protection of the City, the Dean of Saint Paul’s, the Official of Canterbury, the Dean of the Arches, the Abbots of Westminster and of Stratford, and all the religious, and all the justices and clerks, to do such watch and ward as unto them belonged to do. At the same time, upon the Vigil of Saint Luke (October 18) the tablet which Saint Thomas de Lancastre had painted and hung up in the church of Saint Paul was replaced upon the pillar: which tablet had been removed from the pillar by the rigorous command of the King’s writ. At the same time, the Friars Preachers took to flight, because they feared that they should be maltreated and annihilated: seeing that the commonalty entertained great enmity against them by reason of their haughty carriage, they not behaving themselves as friars ought to behave. At this time, it was everywhere the common talk that if Stephen de Segrave, Bishop of London, had been found, he would have been put to the sword with the others who were beheaded: as well as some Justiciars and others, who betook themselves elsewhere in concealment so that they could not be found.”

The condition of London during the later years of Edward II. was miserable. There was no authority: the King deposed one Mayor and set up another; the crafts quarrelled and fought with each other; the popular sympathies were with Queen Isabella: we have seen how these sympathies ended with robbery and murder; the Black Friars who were thought to favour the King had to fly for their lives.

On the 15th of November 1326 the Queen sent the Bishop of Winchester into the City. He met the Aldermen at Guildhall, received the freedom of the City, swore to maintain its franchise and then presented a letter from the Queen restoring to the citizens the right of electing their Mayor—a right withheld since the Iter of 1321. They showed their sense of obligation by electing two citizens, named Richard de Betoyne and John Gisors, who had been active in assisting the escape of Mortimer from the Tower in 1322.

Mortimer himself, with the Archbishop of Canterbury and a large following, repaired to the Guildhall early in the year 1327, and there swore to maintain the liberties of the City. A few days later the unhappy Edward was brutally murdered.

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CHAPTER VII
EDWARD III

The letter from the Queen in November 1326; the visit of Mortimer in 1327 and his oath taken before the Mayor and Chamberlain; and the first acts of the new reign—not of the new King, who was not yet of age,—all together prove the importance of the City in the minds of the new rulers. For the first acts were the grants of three simultaneous charters.

The Liber Albus contains a brief synopsis of the contents of the first of these charters, which Maitland rightly calls golden. It is dated 6th March 1327:—

“That the citizens of London shall have their liberties according to the form of the Great Charter, etc.; and that impediments of usurpation upon them in that behalf made shall be repealed and annulled.

Also, that the Mayor of London for the time being shall be one of the Justiciars for (the delivery of) the Gaol of Newgate.

Also, that the citizens of London shall have Infangthef, and Outfangthef, and the chattels of all felons who shall be adjudged by them as such within the liberties of the City aforesaid.

Also, that whereas the citizens of London had been charged by the Sheriffwick of London and Middlesex in the sum of four hundred pounds into the Exchequer of his lordship the King, the said citizens shall in future have one hundred pounds thereof remitted.

Also, that the citizens of London may devise their tenements within the liberties as well in mortmain as in any other way.

That the Sheriffs of London, so often as it shall happen that they are amerced for any offence, shall be amerced according to the extent of such offence, in the same manner as the other Sheriffs of the realm.

Also, that for the escape of thieves the Sheriffs of London shall on no account be charged or amerced otherwise than other Sheriffs, on this side Trent; who for such escapes are amerced, it is said, in the sum of one hundred shillings.

Also, that the citizens of London shall not be charged otherwise than as of old they have been wont to be charged, for the custody of those who flee to churches for immunity, etc.

Also that the citizens of London may remove and seize all Kidels in the waters of Thames and Medewaie, and shall have the punishments therefore unto us pertaining.

Also, that foreign merchants coming into England shall sell their merchandise within forty days after their arrival, and shall lodge at the tables of the free hosts of the City.

Also, that neither the Steward or the Marshal nor the Clerk of the Market shall sit within the liberties of the City, or exercise any office there.

Also, that the Mayor for the time being shall exercise the office of Escheator within the City aforesaid.

Also, that the citizens of London shall not be compelled to go or to send to war beyond the City aforesaid.

Also, that the Constable of the Tower of London shall not make prises, by land or by water, of provisions or of any other things whatsoever.

Also, that the citizens of London shall have wardens of the number of their fellow-citizens to hold pleas in all good fairs of England, pleas of land and pleas of the Crown excepted.

Also, that the Sheriffs for the time being shall not be compelled to make oath at our Exchequer, except at the rendering of their accounts.

Also, that the citizens shall have all their liberties and free customs, as from of old they were wont to enjoy the same, notwithstanding that the said citizens at the Iter of Henry de Stantone and his associates, etc., were challenged as to the same.

Also, that one writ shall suffice in the Exchequer, and in every place of his lordship the King, for the allowance of their charters.

Also, that no summons, attachment, or execution shall be made within the liberties of the City by any officer of his lordship the King, with writ or without writ, but only by the officers of the said (City).

Also, that the Sheriffs of London shall have wholly the forfeitures of victuals, and of other articles and merchandise, according to the tenor of the Charters, etc.

Also, that the citizens of London in future shall at their Iters, be dealt with according to the same laws by which they were dealt with at the Iters holden in the times of their lordships John and Henry, late Kings of England, and other their progenitors.

Also, that nothing in the Iter aforesaid done or attempted against the liberties and free customs of the citizens, shall act to their prejudice or prevent them from being dealt with as from of old.

Also, that the citizens of London, in aids, grants, and contributions, shall be taxed and shall contribute with the commonalty of the realm, like men of the counties and not like men of the cities and boroughs; and that they shall be quit of all other tallages.

Also, that the liberties of the City of London shall not be taken into the hand of his lordship the King for any personal trespass or personal judgment of any officer of the said City; and that no Warden shall in the same on such pretext be appointed.

Also, that no officer of his lordship the King shall make any prise within the City aforesaid, or without, of the goods of citizens against their will, unless he shall immediately make due payment for the same.

Also, that no prise shall be made of the wines of the said citizens by any servant (of ourselves) or of our heirs, or of any other person, against their will; that is to say, (prisage) of one tun before the mast and of one tun behind the mast.

Also, that no officer or purveyor of the King or of his heirs shall trade, by himself or by others, within the said City or without, in anything as to which their offices are concerned.

Also, that the lands lying without the City of such citizens of London as have been, or shall hereafter be, officers of the City aforesaid, shall be held liable for keeping the said City harmless, etc., as to matters that concern their offices, in the same way as their tenements within the same City.

Also, that no market shall in future be held within seven miles in circuit of the City aforesaid.

Also, that all Inquisitions to be taken by the Justiciars and other officers of the King as to men of the said City shall be taken at Saint Martin’s le Grand, and not elsewhere, except inquisitions taken at Iters at the Tower and for delivery of the Gaol of Newgate.

Also, that no citizen shall be impleaded or troubled at the Exchequer or elsewhere by bill; except as to those matters which concern his lordship the King or his heirs.

Also, that the citizens of London shall have all their liberties and free customs whole and unimpaired, as freely as they ever had the same (the Statute for merchants, to the injury of the liberties of the City aforesaid, in the Parliament at York in the ninth year of Edward the Third enacted to the contrary notwithstanding), etc.” (Riley’s Trans. pp. 129-132.)

It will be observed that this charter is not only a confirmation of all the ancient Privileges and Liberties, but it creates new ones. (1) The Mayor was appointed one of the Judges of Oyer and Terminer for the trials of criminals in Newgate; (2) the citizens were to have the right of Infang-thefe and Outfang-thefe, i.e. the right of trying every thief or robber taken within the City, and the right of bringing back to the City for trial every citizen apprehended elsewhere. (3) A right to the goods and chattels of all felons condemned within the City. (4) The remission of £100 a year on the rent of Middlesex. (5) The right of devising real property. (6) The Sheriffs of London to be amerced no otherwise than their brothers south of the Thames. (7) All Foreign Merchants to sell their goods within forty days. (8) The citizens not chargeable with the custody of those who take Sanctuary. (9) The King’s Marshal, Steward, or Clerk of the Household to have no authority in the City. (10) The Mayor to be the King’s escheator of felons’ goods. (11) The citizens who resort to country fairs to carry with them a Court of Pie Powder. (12) The citizens to be free from tallages, other than those assessed upon other places. (13) The City liberties not to be seized on account of the personal offences of any magistrate. (14) The King’s Purveyor to have no right to fix the price of anything. (15) And no market to be held within seven miles of the City.

The charter looked as if the citizens had been simply invited to take what they pleased in the way of liberties.

By another charter Southwark, i.e. the King’s Manor, not the whole of Southwark, was granted as a part of the City. By a third a general pardon for all late offences was also granted.

Maitland speaks of a dangerous insurrection of certain trades and of their parading the streets armed, killing many. The so-called “insurrection” seems to have been nothing more than a continuation of the late lawless brawls; the people had tasted the joy of fighting in the streets and wanted to continue that amusement. The King addressed a letter to the Mayor calling upon him to keep better order. A number of arrests were made and a good many persons were executed; but the riotous condition of the City continued. The chief cause of trouble was the continual quarrelling between the trades. Thus at this very time, viz. the first years of Edward III., the Mayor arranged a dispute, which led to free fighting in the streets, between the Saddlers of the one part and the Joiners, Painters, and Loriners of the other part.

“Be it remembered, that whereas a certain affray lately took place between the men of the trade of the saddlers of the City of London, on the one part, and the men of the trades of the joiners, painters, and loriners, as well in copper as in iron, of the same City, on the other part, by reason of a certain rancour and dissension which had lately arisen between them, namely, on Thursday, the Feast of our Lord’s Ascension (May 20) last past: upon which day, certain of them, on either side, strongly provided with an armed force, exchanged blows and manfully began to fight, as well in Chepe as in the street of Crepelgate, and elsewhere in the same City; on which occasion certain among them were wickedly, and against the peace of our Lord the King, killed, and many others mortally wounded; by reason of which dissension and exchange of blows, the greater part of the City was in alarm, to the great disgrace and scandal of the whole City, and the manifest peril thereof; which dissension and exchange of blows became so serious and so outrageous as hardly to be appeased through the intervention of the Mayor, Sheriffs, and officers of the City; such contention being however at last, so well as it might be, allayed by the Mayor, Sheriffs, and other officers of the City, the said Mayor and Sheriffs appointed a day for the men of the trades aforesaid to appear before them at the Guildhall, namely, the Friday following, being the morrow of Our Lord’s Ascension, to the end that they might set forth their reasons on either side.

Upon the said day, there came accordingly to the Guildhall the men of the said trades, and, in presence of the Mayor, Sheriffs, and Aldermen, did set forth their grievances in writing, Whereupon, a certain Petition was presented to the Mayor by the joiners, painters, and loriners. The causes of quarrel are too long to be detailed here. Suffice it to say that all these trades attempted then what they attempt still, and that they cried out on each other for wickedness.”

The reception of the Lady Philippa of Hainault, who came over to be married to the young King, was made an occasion for the display and magnificence which the City has always loved.

As soon as the King was crowned he set out to take the field against the Scots. The Londoners gave him a hundred horsemen fully equipped, and a hundred footmen, on the assurance that this gift would not be taken as a precedent. The expedition accomplished little, and the war was ended by the Treaty of Northampton, which angered the Londoners against Isabella and Mortimer excessively.

In November 1328 the Earl of Lancaster rose in revolt against the Queen-mother. How that rebellion fared we know. Mortimer came out of it, apparently, stronger than ever.

It is difficult to make out clearly what passed in London during and after the revolt of Lancaster. The citizens regarded the want of success in the Scottish Expedition as due to Mortimer and the Queen. But between anger and rebellion there may be a wide gulf. There were partisans of Lancaster and there were supporters of the Queen; the King’s name was used by both parties.

We have already, in the preceding reign, heard of Hamo de Chigwell: we find him now brought to trial; not for favouring the late King, but on a charge of feloniously appropriating two silver basins, the property of the Abbot of Bury St. Edmunds. He was convicted, but claimed the benefit of clergy, and was conveyed to the Bishop of London’s prison. His character is not of the clearest to decipher, but he was one of the foremost citizens of the time, and it was a time when they demanded much strength and resolution. A year later he was allowed to go free. But as the citizens prepared to make a demonstration of rejoicing and welcome, the Queen with alarm ordered his arrest. He escaped, however, and is heard of no more in the City. In 1332 he devised some property to the Dean and Chapter of St. Paul’s to found a chantry.

Before leaving England in 1329 the King sent to the City a general proclamation. No one was to carry arms in the City except the officers of the City. No one was to walk about the City after curfew; there were to be no covins or congregations; no tavern was to be kept open after curfew; nobody was to spread lies about the City; no one was to harbour a stranger more than one night and one day, if he did not wish to be answerable for him.

The question which occupied the City at this time was practically that of Free Trade. There had been certain towns at which was established the Staple; that is to say, the market from which wools could be exported. No wool was to be exported until it had remained at a staple for a period of forty days. The rule was relaxed by Edward II. in favour of all towns except London, merchants being allowed to remove wool after fifteen days. The merchants of London naturally complained of this exception, but at first without success.

Edward proposed, next, to remove the Staple to the Continent, but the opposition of the merchants obliged him to renounce this project. He thereupon abolished all Staples, and established Free Trade in Wool. He also invited Flemings to come over, settle in England, and carry on their weaving here.

Cheapside would seem to present a narrow and confined area for the manoeuvres and the combat of mounted knights, yet King Edward held a great Tournament there in the year 1331. We must remember that between the Church of St. Peter in the west and the House of St. Thomas of Acon in the east the street was a great deal wider than it was afterwards: for a length of 750 feet east and west it had a width of something like 150 feet; the space being occupied chiefly by stalls. It narrowed on the east side at the Poultry, and on the west side at St. Peter’s Church, part of the burial ground of which still remains. Stow’s account of what happened at the Tournament is as follows:—

“In the middle of the City of London in a street called Cheape, the stone pavement being covered with sand, that the horses might not slide when they strongly set their feet to the ground, the King held a tournament three days together, with the nobility, valiant men of the realm, and other some strange knights. And to the end the beholders might with the better ease see the same, there was a wooden scaffold erected across the street, like unto a tower, wherein Queen Philippa and many other ladies, richly attired, and assembled from all parts of the realm, did stand to behold the jousts: but the higher frame, on which the ladies were placed, brake in sunder, whereby they were with some shame forced to fall down, by reason whereof the knights, and such as were underneath were grievously hurt: wherefore the Queen took great care to save the carpenters from punishment, and through her prayers (which she made upon her knees) pacified the King and Council, and thereby purchased great love of the people. After which time the King caused a shed to be strongly made of stone for himself, the Queen, and other estates to stand on, and there to behold the joustings, and other shows, at their pleasure, by the Church of St. Mary Bow, as is showed in Cordwainer Street Ward.”

The stone “selde” or shed, as Stow calls it, was still standing in his time. “Without the north side of St. Mary Bow towards West Cheap a fair building of stone called in record Seldam: a shed which greatly darkeneth the said church; for by means thereof all the windows and doors of that side are stopped up.” Henry IV. granted the place to certain Mercers who established shops there but did not pull it down or alter it, and it remained until the Great Fire as the place from which great personages witnessed City shows. The places most commonly used for tournaments were Smithfield and Tothill Fields. At the former was held a very great tournament thirty years later, in the presence of the King and Queen, and another forty years after there was another when the old King conducted thither, to grace the sports, his mistress Alice Perrers, sitting in a triumphal chariot, as the “Lady of the Sun.”

The example in anarchy and disorder witnessed during the last reign makes it less surprising to hear of fresh riots in London, apparently among the Craftsmen. The King addressed a strong letter to the Mayor calling upon the City to repress these disorders. Further measures were taken against disorderly folk in the City but without success, since the King was forced to write again upon the subject. On Wednesday, 12th April, Sir Robert de Asheby, Clerk of the King, summoned the Mayor and Aldermen before the King’s Council at Westminster. Here they were informed that the King was going to war; that this was a costly amusement; and that he desired the City to lend him £20,000. The Mayor begged for time, and called a meeting of the Aldermen and the better sort, not at Guildhall, but at the Chapter House of Westminster. They began by offering the King 5000 marks, which is £3333: 6: 8. This the King refused, with an intimation that if they could do no better than that, he should ask for a list of the principal citizens. They therefore held another meeting and offered to lend the King £5000—“although it was a hard thing and difficult to do.” This offer was accepted. To raise this sum the whole of the City was assessed, sparing none. The richest man in the City was William de Caustom, Alderman, who was assessed at £400; that is to say, his share of the loan was set down at £400.

In 1338 there was a scare about a French descent. The King ordered the City to be “strictly closed” and fortified against any sudden attack by water. Everybody was to aid in this work, whether belonging to a religious community or not.

An inventory of munitions of war was drawn up in 1339. It shows that at a house near the Tower called the “Bretasche” there were 7 springalds (large crossbows); 380 quarels or bolts feathered with leatten or latone (a mixed metal); 500 quarels of wood; 29 cords; and 8 bows of ash for the springalds. At Aldgate 1 springald and 40 quarels; in the Chamber of the Guildhall 6 engines of latone usually called “gonnes” and 5 rollers for the same; also pellets of lead weighing 4½ cwt.; and 32 pounds of powder. This is the earliest mention of guns in England, the next earliest occurring five years later. Riley suggests that they had been brought over to this country by the Bardi from Florence whose guns had been used in war as early as 1326. He quotes Chaucer, House of Fame, book iii.:

The King and the citizens were on friendly terms throughout: but from time to time we see a touch of the Plantagenet.

The assessment shows the comparative wealth of the various wards:

A riot in the streets between the Fishmongers and the Skinners led to results much more useful than a King’s letter, for two rioters were executed—an example greatly needed and extremely useful.

Among the ships of Edward’s Fleet were three belonging to London: “La Jonette,” “La Cogge,” and “La Sainte Marie Cogne.” The last ship belonged to William Haunsard, ex-Sheriff. London also sent a contingent of nearly 200 men fully armed on board these ships. These ships were among those which fought in the great victory of Sluys. The battle is thus described by the French Chronicle:—

“In this year all the mariners of England, by commission of our Lord the King, had all their ships speedily assembled and victualled, and hardy and vigorous men from all parts well equipped and armed at all points, in every place to fight for life or death. And when the fleet of ships of England was assembled in manner aforesaid, Sir Edward, our King, and his people were in the parts of Bury Saint Edmund’s: and from thence he passed on to Orwelle, where he put to sea, with his people beyond number, upon the Thirsday next before the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist (24 June) which was on a Saturday: and upon the next Friday morning, our King espied his enemies upon the sea, and said ‘Because our Lord Jesus Christ was put to death on a Friday, we will not shed blood upon that day.’

The wind had then been in the east for a whole fortnight before the King put to sea, but by the grace of Him who is Almighty, the wind shifted immediately to the west: so that by the grace of God, the King and his fleet had both wind and weather to their mind. And so they sailed on until sunrise at break of day: when he saw his enemies so strongly equipped, that it was a most dreadful thing to behold: for the fleet of the ships of France was so strongly bound together with massive chains, castles, bretasches, and bars. But, notwithstanding this, Sir Edward our King, said to all those who were around him in the fleet of England:—‘Fair lords and brethren of mine, be nothing dismayed, but be all of good cheer, and he who for me shall begin the fight and shall combat with a right good heart, shall have the benison of God Almighty: and everyone shall retain that which he shall gain.’

And so soon as our King had said this, all were of right eager heart to avenge him of his enemies. And then our mariners hauled their sails half-mast high, and hauled up their anchors in manner as though they intended to fly: and when the fleet of France beheld this, they loosened themselves from their heavy chains to pursue us. And forthwith our ships turned back upon them, and the mÊlÉe began, to the sound of trumpets, nakers, viols, tabors, and many other kinds of minstrelsy. And then did our King, with three hundred ships, vigorously assail the French with their five hundred great ships and gallies, and eagerly did our people exert great diligence to give battle to the French. Our archers and our arbalesters began to fire as densely as hail falls in winter, and our engineers hurled so steadily, that the French had not power to look or to hold up their heads. And in the meantime, while this assault lasted, our English people with a great force boarded their gallies, and fought with the French hand to hand, and threw them out of their ships and gallies. And always our King encouraged to fight bravely with his enemies, he himself being in the cog called ‘Thomas of Winchelsee.’ And at the hour of tierce there came to them a ship of London, which belonged to William Haunsard, and it did much good in the said battle. For the battle was so severe and so hardly contested, that the assault lasted from noon all day and all night, and the morrow until the hour of prime: and when the battle was discontinued no French man remained alive, save only Spaudefisshe, who took to flight with four and twenty ships and gallies.”

The Battle of Sluys was followed by the Siege of Tournay which proved fruitless: the King came home without any money, and furious against his ministers, whom he sent to prison. An inquiry was ordered as to the mode of collecting the King’s revenues in the City. The citizens objected to the judges holding this session in the City; they refused to answer any questions unless their liberties were respected; they raised a special fund for the purpose of defending the City’s rights. The King retorted by ordering an Iter, but being unwilling to alienate the City, which was so useful in time of war, he desisted and gave the citizens a new Charter (26th March 1341). At the same time they were called upon to provide twenty-six ships fully equipped and victualled, and the King for his part got another thousand pounds for himself. After a truce for three years the war was renewed. In March 1346 the London contingent of 600 archers, 100 men-at-arms, and 200 horsemen, were called out and paraded on Tothill Fields. They sailed with the King’s fleet of a thousand ships on the 10th July 1346.

After the battle of Crecy the King sent word to the Mayor that many of his men had deserted, and that all who could be found were to be seized and sent back, whether they were knights, esquires, or of lower order. This seems to show that they went out on short service time which had expired. It also shows that no police existed to prevent deserters from taking ship across the Channel. Another fleet was fitted out to which the City contributed two ships. All the ships in the port were also seized.

After the surrender of Calais the King came home, his army laden with spoil. “And now,” says Holinshed, “it seemed to the English people that the sunne breake foorth after a long cloudie season, by reason both of the great plentie of althings, and remembrance of the late glorious victories: for there were few women that were housekeepers within this land, but they had some furniture of household that had beene brought to them out of France as part of the Spoile got in Caen, Calis, Carenten, or some other good towne. And beside household stuffe, the English maides and matrones were bedecked and trimmed up in French women’s jewels and apparell, so that as the French women lamented for the loss of these things, so our women rejoiced of the gaine.”

In the twentieth year of Edward’s reign he issued an ordinance providing for the expulsion of all leprous persons from the City. “Forasmuch,” he begins, “as we have been given to understand that many persons, as well of the City aforesaid, as others coming to the same City, being smitten with the blemish of leprosy, do publicly dwell among the other citizens and sound persons and there continually abide; and do not hesitate to communicate with them as well in public places as in private: and that some of them endeavouring to contaminate others with that abominable blemish (that so to their own wretched solace they may have the more fellows in suffering) as well as in the way of mutual communication, and by the contagion of their polluted breath, and by sexual intercourse with women in stews and other secret places detestably frequenting the same, do so taint persons who are sound, both male and female, to the great injury of the people dwelling in the City aforesaid, and the manifest peril of other persons to the same City resorting....” And he orders the removal of all such persons from the City within fifteen days, and forbids for the future any one to harbour in his house any one “smitten with the blemish of leprosy.” This order seems to have been obeyed.

It is unfortunate that we do not know the number of the wretched lepers who were thus driven out. The disease itself, the ravages of which had been terrible, was now slowly disappearing: within two hundred years from this time it had practically disappeared. That there were still a good number of lepers in London is proved by the fact that the citizens in obedience to the law began to build lazar houses outside the City. Three at least there were already: that of St. Giles in the Fields, founded by Queen Matilda, wife of Henry I.; that of St. James in the Fields, founded for leprous virgins; and that of Great Ilford in Essex, founded by King Stephen, the only one now left of the leprous foundations. The new lazar houses erected were: one at the Lock without Southwark in Kent Street; one between Mile End Road and Stratford-le-Bow; one at Kingsland between Shoreditch and Stoke Newington; and one at Knightsbridge. One is mentioned twenty years later at Hackney. Another was founded a hundred years later by one William Yeoman of the Crown, himself a leper, on the high road between Highgate and Holloway. Twenty-six years later John Mayn, a baker and a leper, “who had oftentimes been before commanded by the Mayor and Aldermen to depart from the City” (oftentimes! Here is a proof of the weakness of the Executive!), was finally ordered to depart at once. It is not stated whether he obeyed.

In 1348 the Black Death broke out. We shall hear of this again. It is sufficient here to record that probably two-thirds of the whole population of London were killed by this pestilence. The churchyards were full, and would hold no more bodies. The Bishop of London gave one piece of ground and Sir Walter Manny gave another, making in all over 13 acres of land for the burial of the dead: in a short time 50,000 persons were lying there. Another piece of ground given by a priest named John Cony for the same object on the east side of the City was also speedily filled with thousands of bodies.

Scarcely had the City recovered from this calamity when it was called upon to join in suppressing pirates who in time of war and trouble always infested the Channel. The City furnished two ships, one with forty men-at-arms and sixty archers, commanded by Andrew Turk, and one with thirty men-at-arms and forty archers, commanded by Gosceline de Cleve. The fleet destroyed a Spanish fleet and captured twenty-four ships laden with merchandise.

The return of the Black Prince with his royal captive after the battle of Poitiers was an occasion for such a display as the City always loved. A thousand of the citizens, richly clad and well mounted, met the Prince at Southwark: the King of France rode a splendid charger: beside him the victorious Prince rode a little galloway. At the foot of London Bridge they were met by the Mayor, Aldermen, Sheriffs, and the several craftsmen in their liveries and colours. All through the streets the houses were hung with tapestries and glittered with arms and armour of all kinds. It was perhaps the greatest day for the national pride and rejoicing that the City had ever seen.

At the expiration of the Two Years’ truce the war broke out again. A French fleet swept along the coast of Sussex landing an army of 20,000 men, who committed the atrocities common to an invading force, burning towns, destroying crops, killing men. The City of London fitted out a fleet of 80 vessels with 14,000 men, including archers, but these were too late to meet the enemy.

It was at this time that Henry Picard, the Vintner, gave that most famous of all the City banquets, at which he entertained the King of England, the King of France, the King of Scotland, the King of Denmark, and the King of Cyprus, as well as the Black Prince.

The war lingered on for some years, but there were no more glorious victories, and in 1375 peace was concluded. A change was attempted in the constitution of the City; by this the election of Mayor, Sheriffs, and Common Council was placed in the hands of the guilds instead of the wards, but after ten years the new plan was found not to work so well as the old, to which the City returned.

In 1365 an important ordinance was passed concerning what things a tenant in leaving a house might take with him:—

“It is ordained that if any persons hire a tenement, House, or Houses, in the city of London or in the suburbs of the said city, to hold the same for the term of Life, or of Years, or only from year to year, or from quarter to quarter: if the said tenant shall make, or cause to be made, any pentyses or other easements in the said tenement, house, outhouses, fixed with nails of iron or wooden pegs to the premises, or to the soil thereof: it shall not be lawful for such tenant to remove such pentyses or easements at the end of the term, or at any other time to destroy them: but they shall always remain to the landlord of the said premises, as a parcel thereof.”

This ordinance was translated from Latin into English with the following explanation:—

“Whereas nowe of late amonge divers people was sprongen Matter of doute upon the most olde custome had and used in this Cyte of London, of suche thyngys which by tenauntys terms of lyfe or yerys been affixyd unto houses, without specyall lycence of the owner of the soyle, whether they owe to remayne unto the Owner of the Soyle, as Parcel of the same, or ellys whether it shall be lawfull unto suche Tenantys on thende of her terme all suche thyngys affyxed to remove.

Whereupon olde Bokys seen, and many Recordys, olde processys, and judementys of the sayd Cyte, it was declared by the Mayre and Aldermen, for an olde prescrybed custome of the Cyte aforesayd, that all suche easementys fixyd unto houses, or to soyle by suche tenementys, without specyal and expresse lycence of the owner of the soyle, if they be affyxed with Nayles of Irne or of tree, as pentyses, glasse, lockys, benchys or ony suche other, or ellse yf they be affyxed with Morter or Lyme, or of erther or ony other Morter as forneys, leedys, candorous Chemyneys, Corbels, pavemettis, or suche other: or elles yf plantes be roetyd in the grounds, as vines, trees, grasse stounks, trees of fruit, etc., it shall not be laufull into suche tenauntys in the end of her terme, or ony other tyme therin, nor only of them, to put awaye more, or plucke up in ony wyse, but that they shall alway remayne to the ownar of the soyle, as parcels of the same soyle or Tenement.”

At the Good Parliament of 1376 three City Aldermen were charged with malversation. All three were deprived of their posts: one was imprisoned, one fled to Flanders to escape trial, one was deprived of his patent of monopoly. With the design of winning favour from the young heir to the Crown, the City resolved upon presenting him with an entertainment and gifts. The Prince with his mother and his suite was living at the Palace of Kennington.

“For which purpose, on the Sunday before Candlemas one hundred and thirty-two citizens on horseback in Masquerade attended by trumpets, a variety of other musical instruments, and a vast number of flambeaux, marched from Newgate through the City and Borough of Southwark, to the Prince’s residence aforesaid. In the first division rode eight and forty persons dressed in the habits of Esquires, with Red Coats, Say2 Gowns, and beautiful Vizards. Then followed the same number of persons apparelled like knights, in the same livery as the former. Then rode one in a very pompous imperial habit, followed at some distance by a person resembling the Pope, attended by four and twenty Cardinals: followed by ten persons in hideous black vizards, as legates from an infernal Pontiff. This Cavalcade of masquers being arrived at the Palace, they dismounted and entered the hall, whither instantly repaired the Prince, the Princess of Wales, and the Nobility their attendants. They were saluted by the masquers, who, producing a pair of Dice, showed their inclination of playing with the Prince. The Dice were so artfully prepared that, whenever the Prince threw, he was sure to win, and having thrown three Times, he won a Bowl, a Cup, and a Ring, all of massy gold: after which the said masquers set the Princess, the Duke of Lancaster, and all the other lords, each with a gold ring which they likewise won: whereupon they were most sumptuously entertained at supper: and, after having the honour of dancing with the Prince and Nobility, they joyfully returned to the City.”

In 1371 the King granted a charter ordering that no strangers, i.e. none except freemen, should be allowed to sell by retail, within the City and the suburbs. This privilege had always been resented by the citizens, who were more in favour of free trade.

The reign of Edward III. is remarkable for the regulations of the crafts and companies which were issued, and the formation of companies under rules and by royal license. In Riley’s Memorials we find Charters, Articles, and Ordinances granted to the following long list, between 1327 and 1377. The list is set down in chronological order:—

Pellipers, or Skinners, Girdlers, Hostlers and Haymongers, Tapicers, Butchers, Bakers, Taverners, Vintners, Cutters, Brewers, Spurriers, Whittawyers, Turners, Heaumers, Hatters, Pewterers, Glovers, Shearmen, Furbishers, Braelers, Masons, Farriers, Wax Chandlers, Alien Weavers, Tylers, Dyers, Plumbers, Tawyers, Flemish Weavers, Bowyers, Fletchers, Pouch Makers, Blacksmiths, Leather Sellers, Poulterers, Cordwainers, Barbers, Fullers, Hurers, and Cheesemongers. Some of the articles of the new Companies will be dealt with in another place.

The Black Death of 1349-50 caused a dearth of labour which ran up wages enormously.

Some attempt to fly in the face of the effect of demand upon supply was made soon after the Pestilence by a Proclamation issued (24 Ed. III. 1350) by order of the Mayor, Walter Turk, the Aldermen and the Commonality in which wages were laid down “to be held and firmly observed for ever.” This proclamation gave the craftsmen 6d. a day in the summer months and 5½d. a day in the winter. Any employer who paid more was fined 40s.:—any craftsman who took more was sent to prison for 40 days. It seems strange that in a commercial and industrial city it could be supposed possible to regulate wages and prices “for ever,” or for a week. Like so many other mediÆval laws and ordinances there is no proof whatever of any obedience, while in the trials that follow there is no case reported of disobedience. We may assert without fear of contradiction that the proclamation fell dead, and that the craftsmen continued to make the most of the situation.

The relations of Edward III. and the City, on the whole of a cordial kind, are illustrated by some of the papers in Riley’s Memorials. Thus, in November 1328, the King and the Queen being at Westminster, the City resolved to send them a present, and these were the seasonable gifts they sent:—

“To our Lord the King:—10 carcasses of beeves, price £7: 10s.; 20 pigs, price £4;—these being bought of Nicholas Derman: 24 swans, price £6; 24 bitterns and herons, price £4: 4s.; and 10 dozens of capons, price 50s.;—the same being bought of John Brid and John Scott: 5 stone of wax, price £19: 19: 0¾; 4 barrels of sturgeon, price £12; 6 pike and 6 eels, price 10 marks;—these being bought of Hugh Medefrei.

To our Lady the Queen:—5 carcasses of beeves, price 75s.; 12 pigs, price 48s.;—these being bought of the said Nicholas Derman: 12 pheasants, price 48s.; 12 swans, price 60s.;—these being bought of the said John Brid and John Scot:—3 stone of wax, price £11: 19: 5¼; 2 barrels of sturgeon, price £6; also, 3 pike and 3 eels, price 66s. 8d.

Sum total paid for the gift aforesaid, £95: 13: 6.”

Nine years later, at the meeting of Parliament, held in London, the City voted a great number of gifts to the King, the Queen, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishops of London and Durham and many great Lords. To some, money was given, to others, silver plate, silk cloths, gloves for holding the marks. Apparently, the gifts were intended to buy their favour, for the City got a charter which secured their liberties, although they had appeared in danger from the new statutes about the Staple.

While mentioning these presents we may state that in the year 1363 we find a dozen trades uniting to send a small present of money, amounting in all to no more than £40, to the King. Four companies also present King John of France, then a captive, with money amounting in all to £24: 6: 8; and in the year 1371 a magnificent present of plate costing, for the time, a vast sum of money, was given to the Black Prince on his return from Gascony.

In 1357 the King, evidently from his own observation, called attention to the lay stalls and filth allowed to accumulate on the banks of the river, and gave orders that all should be cleaned up without delay. In the same year he ordered the streets to be kept free of such impediments. And, which shows a glimmering of sanitary science, he orders that this refuse shall be put into carts and taken out of the City, or into the dung boats which were probably intended to carry the refuse down the river; but nothing was to be thrown into the river. When one remembers the uses to which the Walbrook and the Fleet, together with the banks of the Thames, had been put, it is easy to understand that it was necessary to do something. At the same time, the Thames is a broad river, and capable of cleansing itself from a good deal of corruption.

In some cases of robbery or violence the King interfered himself. Thus in 1359 the King ordered the Mayor to make Inquisition into a robbery committed at the House of the Crutched Friars in Hart Street, Aldgate, and to send him the result of his Inquisition. The case is curious, one that implicated certain Brethren of the House. The things stolen consisted of a chalice, two sets of vestments, many valuable books and other goods, the whole valued at £87: 13: 4, i.e. over £1200 of our money. The robbers were Robert de Stannowe, John de Dunmowe, and Richard de Evesham, all Brethren of the Holy Cross. The witnesses, John Bretoun and eleven others, swore that these three were all malefactors and disturbers of the Peace of our Lord the King, and that they stole these things and “committed other enormities.” What became of the sacrilegious three is not known. Possibly the Bishop’s prison could reveal the secret.

There is also a proclamation against sturdy vagrants who get alms “which would otherwise go to many poor folk, such as lepers, blind, halt, and persons oppressed with old age and divers other maladies.” They are ordered to be put in the stocks and then to forswear the City for ever. Nothing is as yet said about whipping vagrants through the streets.

There is a proclamation against evening markets. Nothing was to be sold after sunset because it is easy in the dark to pass off old things for new.

Another scare of a French descent took place in 1370, when it was reported that certain galleys were lying off the Foreland of Thanet. It was ordered that a watch should be kept every night between the Tower and Billingsgate, to consist of 40 men-at-arms and 60 archers. The companies were to form the watch in the following order:—

• Sunday. The Ironmongers, the Armourers, and the Cutlers.
• Monday. The Tawyers, the Spurriers, the Bowyers, and the Girdlers.
• Tuesday. The Drapers and the Tailors.
• Wednesday. The Mercers and the Apothecaries.
• Thursday. The Fishmongers and the Butchers.
• Friday. The Pelterers and the Vintners.
• Saturday. The Goldsmiths and the Saddlers.

The bad government of London at this time is illustrated by the decay of archery. The recent victories in France had proved the immense superiority of the archers to the mounted knights in battle: yet we find the youth of London allowed to neglect a weapon which could only be serviceable if its practice was encouraged and ordered. On this subject we find that the King sent the following letter to the Sheriffs of London in the year 1365:—

“The King to the Sheriffs of London, greeting.

Because the People of our Realm, as well of good Quality as mean, have commonly in their Sports before these Times exercised the Skill of shooting Arrows; whence it is well known, that Honour and Profit have accrued to our whole Realm, and to us, by the Help of God, no small Assistance in our warlike Acts; and now the said Skill being, as it were, wholly laid aside, the same People please themselves in hurling of Stones and Wood and Iron; and some in Hand-ball, Foot-ball, Bandy-ball, and in Cambuck, or Cockfighting; and some also apply themselves to other dishonest Games, and less Profitable or useful; whereby the said Realm is likely, in a short time, to become destitute of Archers:

We, willing to apply a seasonable Remedy to this, command you, that in Places in the foresaid City, as well within the Liberties as without, where you shall see it expedient, you cause publick Proclamation to be made, that every one of the said City, strong in Body, at leisure Times on Holidays, use in their Recreations Bows and Arrows, or Pellets, or Bolts, and learn and exercise the Art of Shooting; forbidding all and singular on our Behalf, that they do not after any Manner apply themselves to the throwing of Stones, Wood, Iron, Hand-ball, Foot-ball, Bandy-ball, Cambuck, or Cockfighting, nor such other like vain Plays, which have no Profit in them, or concern themselves therein, under Pain of Imprisonment. Witness the King at Westminster, the twelfth Day of June.”

In the same year the City was visited by a company of Flagellants. They were Dutch and a hundred and twenty in number. They marched through the streets stripped to the waist, wearing hats with one red cross before and one behind: in their hands they carried whips. They sang a Litany as they walked, and then began to flagellate each other till the blood ran down their bodies. This they are said to have done twice a day either in the streets or in St. Paul’s.

In the disturbances and quarrels which marked the conclusion of the third Edward’s reign and the commencement of Richard’s, it is difficult to separate the part taken by London from the general history of the country. It was a gloomy time for London as well as for the nation: the conquests and the vast possessions acquired by Edward had been lost more quickly than they were won. In 1372 the English fleet was destroyed off Rochelle: in 1373 Poitiers was lost and the English army destroyed: in 1374 Aquitaine was lost: our holding in France was reduced to certain strong places, as Bordeaux and Calais: the King was falling into dotage: the Black Prince was dying: not only the pride of the country was humiliated, but her wealth was impoverished and her trade diminished.

New ideas were rising up in all directions, precursors of the Reformation. Wyclyf wanted a return to simpler external forms and the lowering of the pride and wealth and power of the Church. Piers Plowman spoke for the inarticulate: Chaucer shows the kindly and good-humoured contempt of the well-to-do bourgeois for Friar and Monk: the commons demanded the dismissal of the Clergy from Civil Service: a few years later they petitioned the King (Henry IV.) to suppress all the monastic Houses. And the most powerful noble in the land, John of Gaunt, espoused the popular side and stood forth as the protector of Wyclyf and of John of Northampton.

Unfortunately John of Gaunt meddled with trade. Probably in ignorance of what he was doing he placed himself in the hands of a merchant named Richard Lyons in whom he seems to have had great confidence. Lyons was clearly the predecessor of many who have followed him in the endeavour to make fortune by short cuts; he got from John permission to ship his wool without taking it first to the Staple, thus avoiding the tax; he got himself made farmer of customs at Calais and levied higher duties than those imposed by Parliament; he bought up the King’s debts at a large reduction and made the Council pay him in full; he made corners, obtained and sold monopolies.

In 1376, the year before the old King’s death, the Good Parliament sat. Their speaker, Peter de la Mare, in the name of the Commons refused all supplies so long as the Duke of Lancaster, Lord Latimer, and Sir Richard Sturrie remained counsellors to the King, and so long as Alice Perrers remained the King’s concubine. The charge was allowed. Then the Parliament considered certain abuses in the City. First, they impeached Richard Lyons, “of divers deceits, Extortions, and other Misdemeanours, as well at the Time when he repaired to certain of the King’s Council, as when he was Farmer of the Subsidies and Customs; and especially for his obtaining Licences for the Exportation of large Faizons of Wool and staple Ware; for procuring new Impositions upon staple Ware; for devising the Change of Money; for making the King, for one Chevizance of twenty Marks, to pay thirty Pounds; for buying Debts of divers Men due by the King for small Values; for taking Bribes by way of Brokage for paying the King’s just Debts. All which, it seems, he was guilty of, by tampering with the Council.

To some Part of which Articles Richard answered, and to the rest submitted himself to the King’s mercy; Whereupon he was committed to Prison, and his Estate, both real and personal, confiscated, and for which Crimes he was also disfranchised.

John Peach of London was soon after impeached for procuring a Licence under the Great Seal, for the sole Privilege of selling sweet wine in London; it was said that by colour of this Grant, he took of every Vintner four shillings and fourpence for every tun he sold. The which he justified, as lawfully he might; yet nevertheless he was adjudged to prison, and to make Restitution to all Persons aggrieved. Whereupon the Grant was reversed, and the Citizens restored to their ancient Right of selling such Wine, under the Restriction of having the Price thereof always regulated by the Mayor.” (Maitland, vol. i. p. 134.)

The Parliament, however, came to an end. John of Gaunt returned to power; Richard Lyons and John Peach were let out of prison; the late Speaker, Peter de la Mare, was committed to Nottingham Castle; Alice Perrers went back to the King.

It does not belong to this history to attempt an estimate of the character and the political career of John of Gaunt. Yet it may be mentioned that he was regarded with the deepest jealousy and was suspected of designs upon the Crown; for it was considered it might be easy for him to supplant the young prince Richard. Yet he was undoubtedly the greatest and most powerful noble in the land. Moreover, in matters of religion he took the side of Reform, especially as regards the wealth and power of the higher clergy. In this respect he undoubtedly had with him the general opinion of the City, both of the better sort—Whittington, among others, was reputed to lean in that direction—and of the craftsmen, among whom the Friars and their teaching had great influence. Unfortunately he offended the City beyond all power of forgiveness by proposing to abolish the Mayoralty and to encroach further upon their liberties. And then came the famous trial of Wyclyf in St. Paul’s Cathedral. Wyclyf was summoned to appear at St. Paul’s before the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of London to answer certain charges as to opinions.

He obeyed, but there came with him his protector, John of Gaunt, and the Earl Marshal, with, one doubts not, a sufficient following to protect their persons. The Cathedral was filled with people drawn together by the desire to see and to hear this fearless champion of Reform. It was with difficulty that the party could work their way through to the place of hearing, which was the Lady Chapel. The Earl Marshal exercised his authority, perhaps loudly, to keep the people back. The Bishop of London, indignant at the exercise of any authority but his own in his own Cathedral, declared that had he known how Lord Percy would act he would have forbidden him admission. The Duke of Lancaster with equal heat assured the Bishop that the Lord Marshal would maintain order, despite him. When they reached the Lady Chapel, the Earl Marshal demanded a seat for Wyclyf. The Bishop refused. Then angry words passed and recriminations; it was rumoured that John of Gaunt threatened to drag the Bishop out of the Church by the hair of his head. The quarrel grew to a tumult; the Court was dissolved; Wyclyf, who had said nothing, withdrew, and the Duke with his party left the Church and rode to the house of one John de Ypres.

There was rancour against the Duke of Lancaster for other reasons, apart from this insult to the Bishop. It was rumoured that he had the design of abolishing the Mayor and of appointing a Custos in his place; and that he held that the Marshal of England should have the right of arresting criminals in London as well as in other parts of the kingdom. The quarrel at St. Paul’s was only the last drop in the cup. That strange wildfire which seizes mobs, beginning one knows not where, and spreading one knows not how, flamed up in the London streets. The mob would have the Duke’s life. He, who was at the house of John de Ypres in the City, and at dinner, was startled by one of his knights who came to warn him. There was no time to be lost; he rose from table and hastening down to the nearest stairs took boat across the river and went to the Palace at Kennington. When the mob found that he was gone they came to his Palace of the Savoy, where they murdered a priest, and would have wrecked the palace but for the intervention of the Bishop of London.

The Mayor and Aldermen obtained an interview with the King and expressed their sorrow at what had happened: they said it was the act of a few lawless men, who should be found and punished, and therewith the Duke seemed satisfied. But the insults of the populace continued; they hung up his shield reversed to show that he was a traitor; they posted libels and insults upon him until he demanded the excommunication of the City. The Bishop of London refused; whereupon the Bishop of Bangor pronounced the excommunication. Had, then, one Bishop the right of excommunicating the people in the diocese of another Bishop? The Mayor, Adam Staple, was removed, and Nicolas Brembre was elected. Certainly it seems as if Adam Staple had shown his own weakness in not maintaining order. Lastly, the City tried to appease the Duke by offering a wax taper bearing his arms in St. Paul’s. Just then the old King died.

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CHAPTER VIII
RICHARD II

No one who considers the life and reign of Richard II. can fail to observe, and in some measure to understand, the very remarkable personal affection which he inspired in the people, especially the people of London, whose loyalty he rewarded so shamefully. His singular beauty, his kingliness, his charm of manner, the splendour and luxury of his court, his love of art and music, his personal bearing, all these things dazzled and fascinated the populace. Never was there a more gallant prince to look upon. That he was proud, almost as proud as Henry III., proud to a degree which is in these days absolutely unintelligible; that he was wasteful and prodigal; that he was led by unworthy favourites almost as much as his great-grandfather; that he was revengeful; that he always wanted money and cared nothing about charters, rights, and liberties, upon all of which he trampled without scruple in order to get money,—these things the people of London were going to find out to their cost. Meantime they loved the lovely boy, the son of the Black Prince. To begin with, the nobles called Richard the Londoners’ King. We shall see that the City endured blow after blow, before they finally abandoned him. Mostly, I think, the City regarded Richard with gratitude and affection for that deed of desperate daring when he faced the mob, himself a mere boy, and persuaded them to go home. Every citizen who remembered those few terrible days when the wildest mob ever seen in London streets held possession of the City, and when they remembered what the better sort had to endure, robbery, fire, and murder, looked on that act as the salvation of himself as well as of the City. The alienation of the City which followed was due solely to the King’s long-continued exactions and his arbitrary disregard of Charters.

The new reign—Richard was only eleven—began happily for London by a reconciliation of the City with the Duke of Lancaster. At the Coronation Banquet the Mayor and Citizens claimed their right to assist the chief butler, but were refused by Robert Belknap, Chief-Justice of the Common Pleas, who told them that they might come and wash up the pots and pans if they pleased. The citizens therefore set up an effigy of Belknap on one of the arches erected in Cheapside for the procession. The figure was made to vomit wine continuously. This is an early example of caricature in things political. Robert Belknap withdrew his opposition; the effigy was removed, and the Mayor and Aldermen played their accustomed part in the Coronation Banquet. It is noted by Sharpe (London and the Kingdom, p. 213) that the King’s Butler in ordinary could claim the post of City Coroner.

The City granted the Council an advance of £5000 on the security of the Customs. When Parliament met, it granted a tallage of two-tenths and two-fifteenths, and named two citizens, Walworth and Philpot, to act as treasurers. At this time, nearly the worst in our annals, the French were harrying the south coast almost unopposed; the Scottish army was on the borders; and a Scottish fleet was in the North Sea making descents upon the ports and seaboard towns. The Abbot of Battle drove off the French, and it was left to a private merchant of London to destroy the Scottish fleet.

This fleet was commanded by a man named Mercer who was called a pirate. Like his countrymen on the Border he probably called his own proceedings lawful acts of war. Sir John Philpot, hearing that this sea captain, or pirate, Mercer was plundering English towns and picking up English ships, fitted out at his own private expense a fleet of ships manned with a thousand men well armed, went on board himself as Admiral or Commander, sailed north, met Mercer’s fleet off Scarborough, valiantly attacked it, and killed him and took all his ships; then, with these and fifteen Spanish vessels, deeply laden, which had been captured by Mercer, he returned to London. The Council sent for him and asked him to explain his presumption in going to war on his own account. But the citizens showed their approval of his work by electing him Mayor in the following year.

The late King having died while the petition of the City for a confirmation of their liberties was impending, they renewed it on the accession of Richard. The House of Commons also prayed the King that the City might continue to enjoy all the Franchises and usages granted by his Progenitors. This was answered by a Charter of Confirmation as follows:—

“Whereas the said Citizens, by their Petition exhibited to us in Parliament, did set forth that although they, for a long time past, have used and enjoyed certain free Customs, until of late Years they have been unjustly molested; which Customs are as followeth, viz., That no Foreigner do buy or sell of another Foreigner any Merchandises within the Liberties of the said City, upon Pain of forfeiting the same. Nevertheless, being desirous, for the future, to take away all Controversies about the same, We do by these presents, with the Assent aforesaid, will and grant, and by these Presents, for us and our heirs, do confirm unto the said Citizens, and their Successors, that, for the future, no Foreigner sell to another Foreigner any Merchandises within the Liberties of the said City: nor that any Foreigner do buy of another Foreigner any Merchandise, upon pain of forfeiting the same; the Privileges of our Subjects of Aquitaine in all Things excepted, so that such buying and selling be made betwixt Merchant and Merchant.”

The City was still at this time torn by internal dissensions. The party headed by John of Northampton, representing the popular cause of the craft guilds, was always striving after more power and always meeting with the most determined resistance; it is also certain that a new and very important spirit had been introduced into the City, which was teaching new ideas concerning personal holiness, the riches of priest and monk, the true teaching of Christ as set forth in the Gospels, and spread abroad by Wyclyf’s preachers. The other side, headed by Philpot and Brembre, represented the old aristocratic party with the great guilds of distribution, import and export. The Duke of Lancaster, for reasons of his own, gave his support to John of Northampton and the popular party. In this he was joined by his brother Thomas of Woodstock, Earl of Buckingham, who three times accused Brembre before the Parliament: first of connivance in a riotous attack upon his house, and next of treason. The Earl showed his resentment still further by withdrawing from the City with all his following and all his friends. He must have had a great many friends, because the blow to trade was so sorely felt that the richer merchants subscribed and bribed him to come back again. The history of the City factions will be found in another place.

In 1379 a poll tax was imposed. Every man had to pay according to his rank and station. The Mayor of London was assessed as an Earl and paid £4. The Aldermen, assessed as barons, paid £2 each. The lowest workmen had to pay a groat—fourpence. The poll tax of the City amounted to no more than £700. It is estimated that there was a population of about 46,000. But the expenses of collection are not included. In the taxation of the whole population, man, woman, and child, there must have been a great number of clerks and collectors. Perhaps 25 per cent was spent in the work. That would give us a population of 56,000. Next year the poll tax was again imposed; but this time the smallest sum to be paid was three groats, and that by every man, woman, and child over the age of fifteen. What would this tax mean at the present day? It would mean that every working man would have to pay half-a-crown for himself, half-a-crown for his wife, and half-a-crown for every one in his house over fifteen years of age, say four half-crowns, or ten shillings in all. How long would a Government last which should impose such a tax? The tax produced in London alone no more than £1000. It was a fatal impost for the country, for it proved the cause of the rebellion, the most formidable rising of the peasantry which this country ever had to encounter, that named after Wat Tyler. The history of this insurrection belongs to the history of England rather than that of London, but the later and more dramatic part of it took place in the City. Perhaps I cannot do better than transcribe the short and graphic contemporary account given in Riley’s Memorials (p. 449):—

“Among the most wondrous and hitherto unheard-of prodigies that have ever happened in the City of London, that which took place there on the Feast of Corpus Christi, the 13th day of June, in the 4th year of the reign of King Richard the Second, seems deserving to be committed to writing, that it may be not unknown to those to come.

For on that day, while the King was holding his Council in the Tower of London, countless companies of the commoners and persons of the lowest grade from Kent and Essex suddenly approached the said City, the one body coming to the town of Southwark, and the other to the place called ‘Mileende,’ without Algate. By the aid also of perfidious commoners within the City, of their own condition, who rose in countless numbers there, they suddenly entered the City together, and, passing straight through it, went to the mansion of Sir John, Duke of Lancaster, called ‘Le Savoye,’ and completely levelled the same with the ground, and burned it. From thence they turned to the Church of the Hospital of St. John of Jerusalem, without Smethfeld, and burnt and levelled nearly all the houses there, the Church excepted.

On the next morning, all the men from Kent and Essex met at the said place called ‘Mileende,’ together with some of the perfidious persons of the City aforesaid; whose numbers in all were past reckoning. And there the King came to them from the Tower, accompanied by many knights and esquires, and citizens on horseback, the lady his mother following him also in a chariot. Where, at the prayer of the infuriated rout, our Lord the King granted that they might take those who were traitors against him, and slay them, wheresoever they might be found. And from thence the King rode to his Wardrobe, which is situated near to Castle Baynard; while the whole of the infuriated rout took its way towards the Tower of London; entering which by force, they dragged forth from it Sir Simon, Archbishop of Canterbury, Chancellor of our Lord the King, and Brother Robert Hales, Prior of the said Hospital of St. John of Jerusalem, the King’s Treasurer; and, together with them, Brother William Appletone, of the Order of Friars Minors, and John Leg, Serjeant-at-arms to the King, and also, one Richard Somenour, of the Parish of Stebenhuthe; all of whom they beheaded in the place called ‘Tourhille,’ without the said Tower; and then carrying their heads through the City upon lances, they set them up on London Bridge, fixing them there on stakes.

Upon the same day there was also no little slaughter within the City, as well of natives as of aliens. Richard Lions, citizen and vintner of the said City, and many others, were beheaded in Chepe. In the Vintry also, there was a very great massacre of Flemings, and in one heap there were lying about forty headless bodies of persons who had been dragged forth from the churches and their houses; and hardly was there a street in the City in which there were not bodies lying of those who had been slain. Some of the houses also in the said City were pulled down, and others in the suburbs destroyed, and some too, burnt.

Such tribulation as this, greater and more horrible than could be believed by those who had not seen it, lasted down to the hour of Vespers on the following day, which was Saturday, the 15th of June; on which day God sent remedy for the same, and His own gracious aid, by the hand of the most renowned man, Sir William Walworthe, the then Mayor; who in Smethefelde, in presence of our Lord the King and those standing by him, lords, knights, esquires, and citizens on horseback, on the one side, and the whole of this infuriated rout on the other, most manfully, by himself, rushed upon the captain of the said multitude, ‘Walter Tylere’ by name, and, as he was altercating with the King and the nobles, first wounded him in the neck with his sword, and then hurled him from his horse, mortally pierced in the breast; and further, by favour of the divine grace, so defended himself from those who had come with him, both on foot and horseback, that he departed from thence unhurt, and rode on with our Lord the King and his people, towards a field near to the spring that is called ‘Whittewellebeche’; in which place, while the whole of the infuriated multitude in warlike manner was making ready against our Lord the King and his people, refusing to treat of peace except on condition that they should first have the head of the said Mayor, the Mayor himself, who had gone into the City at the instance of our Lord the King, in the space of half an hour sent and led forth therefrom so great a force of citizen warriors in aid of his Lord the King, that the whole multitude of madmen was surrounded and hemmed in; and not one of them would have escaped, if our Lord the King had not commanded them to be gone.

Therefore our Lord the King returned into the City of London with the greatest of glory and honour, and the whole of this profane multitude in confusion fled forthwith for concealment in their affright.

For this same deed our Lord the King, beneath his standard, in the said field with his own hands decorated with the order of knighthood the said Mayor, and Sir Nicholas Brembre, and Sir John Phelipot, who had already been Mayors of the said City; as also Sir Robert Launde.”

“Jack Straw” before his execution made a full confession. It has been doubted whether this confession is genuine, but it seems possible and even probable. They promised to have masses said for his soul (which assured him that it was purgatory to which he would be sent) and on this promise he declared that they had intended to seize the King, to carry him about in order to reassure the people, and in the end to kill him and all who were set in authority. They were going to spare the mendicant friars alone. And they were going to set up separate kingdoms all over the country.

The doctrines of Wyclyf’s preachers and “simple priests” certainly made this rebellion possible: they filled the minds of the rustics with new ideas of equality and right; they made them question authority; they made it possible for them to unite. As regards London, on inquiry after the rebellion, it was proved that two hundred persons had left the City in consequence, which does not seem to show that Lollardy was advanced by the rebels, or that there was any sympathy extended to them from the Lollards of the City. Now London at this time, Walsingham says, was full of Lollards—they were all Lollards. A little later than this even Whittington was accused of being male credulus. As regards the word Lollard its true meaning has been ascertained by Professor Skeat (Piers the Plowman, Early Eng. Text Soc., vol. iv. p. 86). There was a sect in Brabant before Wyclyf was born who were called Lollards.... “Sive Deum laudantes,” says one writer. “Mussitatores,” i.e. mumblers of prayers, says another. The name of Lollard, a term of reproach in Brabant, was borrowed from that country and applied to the followers of Wyclyf in order to render them unpopular. The word lollere or loller—one who lolls, an indolent person—had nothing to do with the word Lollard: nor with the Latin lolium, tares, which was also pressed into the service in order to make the new opinions unpopular.

After the murder of Archbishop Sudbury, William Courtenay became Archbishop of Canterbury: he was a man of high birth, a scholar, one of a temper which would not bear opposition, and one who held the strongest views as to authority and the power of the Church. He naturally saw in the late dangerous rising of the people a blow against authority, which he also ascribed, quite reasonably, to the teaching and the influence of Wyclyf. The doctrines of the rebel leaders were, however, an exaggeration and perversion of those taught by Wyclyf. And we must remember that Jack Straw looked forward to a time when the Franciscans should inherit the whole earth, an aspiration certainly not shared by Wyclyf. Twice had Wyclyf been summoned to appear before an ecclesiastical court. Courtenay called a Court and again summoned Wyclyf to appear. He was probably prevented by a stroke of paralysis, for he did not come. The Court was held in his absence in the Great Hall of the Black Friars. There were assembled (see Milman’s Latin Christianity, v. 509) eight Bishops, fourteen Doctors in Civil and Canon Law, six Bachelors of Divinity, four monks, fifteen Mendicant Friars, not one being a Franciscan, which is significant. Twenty-four articles were gathered out of the writings of Wyclyf, all to be condemned. In order to give these scenes great solemnity, a procession of clergy and laity walked barefoot to St. Paul’s to hear a sermon on the subject. (See Appendix I.).

There is the significant fact that in 1393 the Archbishop of York and the Bishop of London complained formally to the King of the Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs—Whittington being then one of the Sheriffs—as male creduli, upholders of Lollards, detractors of religious persons, detainers of tithes, and defrauders of the poor. Richard II.’ s “Good Queen Anne” was a Wyclyfite. She read the Gospels for herself in English, in Bohemian, and in Latin. Nobles and knights, among them Sir John Oldcastle, sometimes called Lord Cobham, and the Earl of Salisbury, were avowed Wyclyfites. Even among the monks themselves there were Lollards. Peter Patishull, an Augustinian monk, and actually one of the Pope’s chaplains, preached plain Wyclyfism at St. Christopher’s Church, close to the monastery of St. Augustine. And he affixed a written document to the doors of St. Paul’s, stating that “he had escaped from the companionship of the worst of men”—meaning his brethren of St. Augustine’s—“to the most perfect and holy life of the Lollards.” And again there is that most remarkable Petition of the London Lollards to Parliament. Remember that these words were written a hundred and fifty years before the Dissolution of the Religious Houses. They were the opinions of the common people put into articulate speech by such men as Peter Patishull. The document is, as Dean Milman says, “vehemently anti-papal, anti-Roman.”

“Since the Church of England, fatally following that of Rome, has been endowed with temporalities, Faith, Hope, and Charity have deserted her communion. Their Priesthood is no Priesthood: men in mortal sin cannot convey the Holy Ghost. The clergy profess celibacy but from their pampered living are unable to practise it. The pretended miracle of Transubstantiation leads to idolatry. Exorcism or Benedictions are vain, delusive, and diabolical. The realm cannot prosper so long as spiritual persons hold secular offices. One who unites these two is a hermaphrodite. All chantries of prayer for the dead should be suppressed: one hundred religious houses would be enough for the spiritual wants of the realm. Pilgrimages, the worshipping of the Cross or images, or reliques, is idolatry. Auricular confession, indulgences, are mischievous or a mockery. Capital punishments are to be abolished as contrary to the New Testament. Convents of females are defiled by licentiousness and the worst crimes. All trades which minister to pride or luxury, especially goldsmiths and sword cutlers, are unlawful.” (Latin Christianity.)

London was placarded with these manifestoes, half wise, half foolish. The Archbishop of York and the Bishop of London hastily summoned Richard from Ireland by information that an outbreak of Lollards was at hand. Probably fear and hatred exaggerated the danger. Then came the deposition of Richard, the accession of Henry and his declaration that he would support the Church. For a time the Lollards were quiet.

Returning to City history it was perhaps in the hope of increasing the popularity of the King that Brembre in 1383 issued a proclamation “concerning the liberties lately granted to the Citizens of London by the Lord King in his Parliament.”

The substance of the Charter is given in the Liber Albus. It was obtained partly by the good offices of the Queen, and partly by an advance, loan, or gift of 4000 marks.

In the year 1392 the King, wanting money as usual, ordered every London citizen who possessed an estate worth £40 at least to take up the honour of knighthood for which heavy fees would have to be paid. The Sheriffs reported, however, that all tenements and rents in the City were “held of the King in capite as for burgage at a fee farm (ad feodi firmam); that the tenements were constantly in need of repair, and that it was impossible to make such a return as the King desired. The King had to withdraw the order. But he had a new quarrel with the City: he offered some jewels as security for a loan; the citizens said they were too poor to advance the money; therefore the King sent to a certain Lombard who promised to find the money; in order to get it, he himself borrowed of the citizens. Another version of the story is that the citizens learning that this Lombard, one of the Pope’s licensed usurers, had advanced the money, fell upon him and beat him grievously. If this story is true the reasons were probably the general ill feeling towards foreigners always existing in the City, and next, a special rage that this man should have become so rich. Richard heard of this; for the moment he said nothing, for he was in some respects a most self-restrained prince, though at all times most revengeful. Moreover, he had another quarrel with the City on account of the side they took in the late troubles. His chance came. It began with a loaf of bread snatched from a baker’s tray by a servant of the Bishop of Salisbury, named Roman, in Fleet Street. The baker, as the tale is told, naturally resented the robbery and tried to recover his loaf: in the scuffle he was wounded by the said Roman—probably they had both drawn their knives. A crowd collected; Roman’s fellow-servants rescued him, dragged him into the house and refused to give him up. The crowding people round the gates bawled that they would set fire to the place in order to get the man out. The Mayor and Sheriffs hurried to the spot and with some difficulty persuaded the people to go home, before violence was done. Here the affair, really a trifle, should have ended. But the Bishop of Salisbury, who is said to have desired an opportunity to do the City a bad turn, hurried to the King and asked if the Londoners were to be allowed with impunity to insult the Church and defy the State.” “Certainly not,” said Richard; “if necessary I will raze the City to the ground.” He ordered the Mayor, the Sheriffs, the Aldermen, and four-and-twenty principal men of the City to attend him to Nottingham there to answer for these grievous disorders.

It was very soon discovered that the King meant mischief. The citizens threw themselves upon his mercy as the shortest and perhaps the cheapest way out of the quarrel. He committed the Mayor to prison at Windsor, and the Sheriffs to Odysham and Wallingford. He then appointed a commission under the Great Seal—his uncles the Dukes of York and Gloucester being the Commissioners—to inquire into the misgovernment of the City. The prisoners had to pay a fine of 1000 marks for the first offence, whatever that was, of which they were convicted; 2000 marks for the second; and in the third the Liberties of the City were seized by the King, contrary to the Charters. The Mayor was degraded, the Sheriffs and Aldermen deposed and others appointed in their place, and a Custos was given to the City—Sir Edward Dalyngrigge. Richard then summoned the Aldermen to Windsor and imposed a fine of £100,000 upon the City. But it does not appear that he meant it to be paid, for in the following month he announced his intention of riding through the City. Then the citizens humbled themselves and made a very expensive effort to win back the King’s favour. They prepared a most magnificent reception for him. First, at St. George’s Church, Southwark, he was met by the Bishop of London, all the clergy, and five hundred choristers in surplices: at London Bridge he was presented with a splendid charger richly clad in cloth of gold, and to the Queen was given a stately white pad with rich furniture: the streets through which he passed were lined with the City Companies in order: the conduits ran wine: and the people shouted. At the Standard in Cheapside stood a boy in white raiment, representing an angel, who presented the King a crown of gold and the Queen with another: he also offered wine from a golden cup. Then the Mayor and the City Fathers rode with the King to Westminster. The next day, to complete this show of loyalty, they sent the King two silver gilt basins in each of which lay a thousand nobles of gold: and a picture of the Trinity said to have been valued at eight hundred pounds—one cannot believe there was then any picture in the world valued at so much. The King remitted the fine of £100,000 and restored the Charters.

The citizens on receiving back their Charters proceeded to institute certain reforms. They resolved that their Aldermen should be elected for life, and not year by year: a measure which diminished the factious quarrels over the elections. They also divided the Ward of Farringdon into two.

In the year 1394 the Queen Anne of Bohemia died. She had the reputation of being a good friend to the City. In the Latin poem of “Richard of Maidstone” (Camden Society, Deposition of Richard the Second), the Queen is represented as pleading with the King for the City:—

Supplicatio Reginae pro eisdem civibus.

Two years later the King went through the form of marriage with the French princess Isabel who was brought over at the age of eight. The Mayor and Aldermen went out to meet the “little Queen” at Blackheath, and escorted her to Kennington Palace, and the next day from that Palace to the Tower, the roads and streets being crowded with an innumerable throng.

The extravagance of the King had now become an intolerable burden to the country, especially to London. He is said to have maintained 10,000 persons at his Court. There were 300 employed in the kitchen alone. There was never any prince who clad himself more gorgeously: one cloak he had made of gold and silver cloth studded with jewels which cost him £2000, or about £40,000 of our money. He seems to have been unable to understand the meaning of money or the relation between things he desired, and the taxable wealth of the country. His last method of extortion was to issue blank charters which the merchants were to sign and he was to fill up at his pleasure. This proved too much for the long-suffering City. John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, had recently died; so they sent for his son Henry, Duke of Lancaster.

The rest is history; Henry came, was received with acclamations by the City, a company of 1200 Londoners, fully armed, was raised for him; he marched out with them and with others and seized the King whom he brought back to London with him. The rabble wanted to murder their former idol on the way. The Recorder with a great number of Knights and Esquires went out to meet Lancaster and his captive. In the name of the City this functionary begged Henry to behead the King. Perhaps, however, the story is not true. Holinshed simply speaks of the immense joy of the people, and says that “many evil-disposed persons, assembling themselves together in great numbers, intended to have met with him and to have taken him from such as had the conveying of him, that they might have slain him.”

In the Parliament which was called on the arrival of the King at the Tower, thirty-three articles were drawn up showing that he was worthy of deposition. These articles were read at the Guildhall. The King, brought to Westminster, read publicly the renunciation of his Crown.

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CHAPTER IX
HENRY IV

We have now to consider a rare event in the history of London—the accession of a sovereign who honestly maintained friendly relations with the City of London and respected its liberties. The note of conciliation was struck at the Coronation Banquet, at which the Mayor and Aldermen claimed and were assigned places of honour and their right of assisting the Chief Butler. Let us assist at one of the many mediÆval banquets—we can do so by the help of Fabyan:—

“Upon Monday, beyng the day of seynt Edwarde and the xiii day of October, the King was crowned at Westmynster of the archebysshop of Canterbury: after which solempnyte fynysshed, an honourable feest was holden within the great halle of Westmynster, where the kynge beynge set in the mydde see of the table the Archebysshop of Canterbury with iii other prelates were set at the same table upon the right hande of the kynge, and the archebysshop of Yorke with other iiii prelatys was sette upon that other hande of the kynge, and Henry the kynges eldest sone stoode upon the right hande with a poyntlesse swerde holdynge up right and the erle of Northumberlande, newely made constable, stode upon the lefte hande with a sharpe swerde holden up right, and by eyther of those swerdys stode ii other lordys holding ii cepters. And before the kynge stode all the dyner whyle the dukys of Amorarle, of Surrey, and of Exetyr, with other ii lordys. And the erle of Westmerlande, that newely made marshall, rode about the halle with many typped staves about hym, to see the roume of the halle kept, that offycers myght with ease serue the tables. Of the whyche tables the chief upon the ryght syde of the halle was begunne with the barons of the v portys, and at the table next the cupborde upon the lefte hande, sate the mayer and his bretherne the aldermen of London, which mayer that tyme beynge Drewe Barentyne, goldsmyth, for servyce there by hym that daye done, as other mayers at every kyngs and quenys coronacion use for to do, had there a standynge cuppe of gold. Then after the seconde course was servyd, Syr Thomas Dymmoke, knyght, benyng armed at all peacis, and syttynge upon a good stede, rode to the hygher parte of the halle and there before the kyng caused an herowde to make proclamacyon, that what man wolde saye that Kynge Henry was not rightfull enherytoure of the crowne of Englonde, and rightfully crownyd, he was there redy to wage with him batayll then, or sych tyme as it shuld please the kynge to assynge. Whiche proclamacion he causyd to be made after in iii sundry places of the halle in Englysshe and in Frenshe, with many more observauncies at his solempnytie exercysyd and done whiche were longe to reherse.”

The reign began with the very remarkable conspiracy formed by the Abbot of Westminster, and the Lords of Albemarle, Surrey, Exeter, and Salisbury and Gloucester. This rebellion was speedily put down with the help of the Londoners, and the chiefs of the rebellion were all beheaded. The Abbot of Westminster was struck by paralysis. It was probably in consequence of this rebellion, and the knowledge that there would be more risings as long as Richard lived, that he was murdered at Pontefract. But his death did not put a stop to conspiracies.

Early in the second year of Henry there were more executions for treason, viz. Sir Roger Claryngton, two of his servants, and eight Franciscan friars. London Bridge and the City Gates were decorated with the heads of the traitors. In the year 1404 one of the murderers of the late Duke of Gloucester at Calais was arrested and brought to London, where he was tried, found guilty and drawn all the way to Tyburn, to be hanged and quartered. The next year the Archbishop of York and Lord Mowbray rebelled, were defeated, and taken. As a new thing in the land the Archbishop was beheaded as well as the noble. The general horror aroused by this execution of a Prelate is shown by the story that grew up. “The Archbishop,” it was said, “in worship of Christ’s five wounds, entreated the executioner to strike him five times. At each stroke the King sitting in his lodging felt that stroke exactly as if some person were striking him. And shortly after he was stricken with leprosy, so that he recognised the hand of God. And soon after God shewyd many miracles for the sayde Bishop, which called the Kynge into the more repentance.”

In 1407 there was an ordeal by battle held at Smithfield between “one named the Welsh Clerk” and a knight, Sir Percyval Sowdan. The latter was accused by the clerk of treason. They fought for a “season,” but the clerk proved recreant: therefore they took off his armour; laid him on a hurdle and so to Tyburn, where he met the usual death. In the same year London Bridge received the heads of the Earl of Northumberland and Lord Bardolf. And after these examples the land for a brief season had rest from rebellions.

Returning to the relations of the City and the King. Henry granted a Charter the provisions of which are enumerated in the Liber Albus. They confirm the fullest liberties, and privileges are granted to the City. He also repealed the Act (27 Ed. III.) by which the Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs were liable to be tried by a foreign inquest taken from the counties of Kent, Sussex, Essex, Hertfordshire, Bucks, and Berks, together with the penalties and forfeitures belonging to the Act; he gave the London merchants the same liberty of packing their cloths as was enjoyed by the foreigners; and he won the favour of the commonalty by allowing all fishermen foreign or not, provided they belonged to countries at amity with the King, to sell fish in the London market. The first appearance of Free Trade, it will be seen, is intended to cheapen provisions. The City was able to show its readiness to support the King in the business of the conspiracy above mentioned. When Henry went to meet the rebels it was with an army of twenty thousand men, among whom was a strong contingent of six thousand Londoners. They were rewarded by a Charter giving them, with the custody of the City, all the Gates and Fortresses, the collection of the Tolls and Customs in Cheap, Billingsgate, and Smithfield, and also the Tronage or weighing of lead, wax, pepper, alum, madder, etc.

Whether honestly or not, there were many who professed to believe that the late King Richard was still living, and one William Serle was active in spreading abroad this persuasion. Yet Henry had caused the face of the dead King to be exposed when the body was brought to London in order that there might be no possible doubt. Serle was arrested at length and brought to London, where he was executed at Tyburn. But still the delusion lingered on. Sixteen years later one Thomas Ward, called “Trumpyngtone,” personated the King, and two London citizens named Benedict Wolman and Thomas Bikering hatched a conspiracy to produce the false Richard. They were, however, arrested: one of them died in prison, the other was executed. Four years later, when Ward was dead, two more Londoners were arrested for keeping up the mischievous story. One of them was released, the other was kept in prison.

The Church and the clergy at that time had grave cause for anxiety. The spirit of discontent was abroad. It was shown by the late rebellion of the Essex and the Kentish men; it was shown by the falling off in bequests and donations and foundations of chantries, obits, and anniversaries; it was shown by the general hatred of the mendicant orders, and especially of the Franciscans, formerly so widely, and so deservedly loved; it was shown by the murmurings, deep and low, against the wealth of the Church, against the laziness and luxury of the Religious, against the general immorality imputed, rightly or wrongly, to the Ecclesiastics of all kinds—there were sixty clerks in Holy Orders caught in the act of adultery in the years 1400 to 1440: there were notoriously women who kept disorderly houses for priests and procured girls for them (see Riley’s Memorials). The spirit of revolt was shown by the action of the City when it prayed for the dissolution of St. Martin’s Sanctuary on the ground that the place was a mere receptacle of murderers, thieves, and bankrupts; it was shown most decisively and unmistakably in the remarkable prayer of Parliament that the King would take over into his own hands the whole of the Church lands. This petition demands larger notice. The following is Fabyan’s account:—

“In this yere (xi Henry IV.) the kyng helde his parliament at Westmynster, during the whiche the commons of this lande put up a bylle to the kyng, to take the temporall landes out from spiritual mene’s handes or possession. The effect of whiche bylle was, that the temporaltes, disordynately wasted by men of the churche, myghte suffice to find for the kyng xv erles, xv C knyghts, xi M and CC esquyers and C houses of almes, to the releef of poore people, more than at these dayes were within Englande. And over all thyse aforesayd charges the kynge myght put yerely in his coffers xx M pounds. Provyded that every erle should have of yerely rent iii M marke, every knyght an C marke & iiii ploughe lande, every esquyer xl marke by yere, with ii plughe land, and every house of almesse an C marke and oversyght of ii trewe seculers into every house. And also with provicion that every township shoulde kepe all poore people of theyr owne dwellers, whiche myght not labour for theyr lyvynge, with condycyon that if more fell in a towne than the towne myght maynteyn, that the said almesse houses to releve suche townshyppes. And for to bere thyse charges, they allegyd by theyr sayd bylle, that the temporalyties beyng in the possession of spirituell men, amounted to CCC and xxii M marke by yere, whereof they affermyd to be in the see of Caunterbury, with the abbeys of Cristes Churche, of Seynt Augustyns, Shrowsbury, Coggeshale, and Seynt Osiys xx M marke by yere.

In the see of Durham and other abbeys there, xx M marke: in the see of York & abbays there, xx M marke: in the see of Wynchester & abbays there, xx M marke: in the see of London with abbays and other houses there, xx M marke: in the see of Lincoln, with the abbays of Peterbourth, Ramsay, & other, xx M marke: in the see of Norwych, with the abbays of Bury and other, xx M marke: in the see of Hely, with the abbays of Hely, Spaldyng, & other, xx M marke: in the see of Bathe, with the abbay of Okynborne & other, xx M marke: in the see of Worceter, with the abbays of Euisham, Abyngdon, & other, xx M marke: in the see of Chester with precinct of the same, with the sees of Seynt Davyd of Salisbury & Exceter, with theyr precinctes, xx M marke: the abbays of Ravens, or Revans, of Founteyns, of Geruons, and dyvers other, to the number of five more, xx M marke: the abbays of Leyceter, Waltham, Gisbourne, Merton, Circetir, Osney, & other, to the number of vi more, xx M marke: the abbays of Dovers, Batell, Lewis, Coventre, Daventry, & Tourney, xx M marke: the abbays of Northampton, Thornton, Brystow, Kelyngworth, Wynchecombe, Hayles, Parchissor, Frediswyde, Notley, and Grymysby, xx M marke.

The which foresayd sumes amounte to the full of CCC M marke: and for the odde xxii M marke, they appointed Herdford, Rochester, Huntyngdon, Swyneshede, Crowlande, Malmesbury, Burton, Tewkisbury, Dunstable, Shirborn, Taunton, & Bylande.

And over this, they allegyd by the sayd byll, that over and above the sayd sume of CCC & xxii M marke dyvers houses of relygon in Englande, possessyd as many temporalties as might suffyce to fynde yerely xv M preestes & clerkes, every preest to be allowed for his stipende vii marke by yere.

To the which byll none answere was made, but that the kyng of this matyer wolde take delybracion & advycement, and with that answer it endyd.”

This estimate of the revenues of the various religious houses at the enormous sum of 322,000 marks, or £216,000 sterling, a sum which we must multiply by fifteen or twenty in order to get an approximation to our money, would thus be equivalent to a revenue of from three millions to four millions and a quarter. If we bear in mind the vast extent of the country then lying waste, untilled, and uncleared, merely forest land, we can understand the enormous proportion which the lands of the Church bore to the rest of the cultivated soil. The Religious Houses of London (not including Westminster) were set down at 20,000 marks or £13,333 a year, equivalent to £200,000 a year of our money.

In the next reign (2 Henry V.) the Commons returned to the subject, and sent up the same Bill. And this in the face of the recent severities towards the Lollards. Fabyan asserts that in fear lest the King should give to this Bill a “comfortable audyence,” certain Bishops and other head men of the Church reminded him of his claims upon France, and he says also that this Bill was the cause of the French wars which followed. It might have been one of the causes, perhaps; Henry V. was the last man to quarrel with the Church or to deprive the Church of her lands; at the same time, his title to the throne was accounted defective—there were many elements of trouble; there were nobles to conciliate; there were towns to please. He would not willingly create new enemies; a successful foreign war is always most popular; what the Black Prince achieved,—the same popularity, the same splendid reputation,—he might also achieve. The King therefore gently laid aside the Bill and presently embarked upon his war with France.

The clergy knew perfectly well that the main cause of the national discontent with the existing forms and institutions of religion was the teaching of the Wyclyfite.

It was, indeed, to be expected that his preaching would be popular in all classes down to the very humblest. How should it be otherwise? He addressed all who could be moved by noble and generous inspirations. He preached against the enormous wealth of the clergy and the Religious Houses, wealth which choked up and destroyed the springs of piety; against the vices which too many of the clergy flaunted impudently in the face of the world, sloth, luxury, gluttony, intemperance, and incontinence: he preached in favour of personal righteousness, purity, and faith: it is significant that no new Monastic Houses were founded; that on the other hand, men like Whittington, Carpenter, Niel, and Sevenoke, in the City were founding schools, endowing libraries, rebuilding prisons, erecting almshouses, but never endowing monasteries. Whittington, for instance, gave a library to Grey Friars: he built and endowed an almshouse called God’s House: he founded the College of the Holy Spirit for five fellows, clerks, conducts, and servants: he restored the hospital of St. Bartholomew: he provided “bosses” or taps of fresh water in various parts of London: he rebuilt Newgate: he gave money for a library at the Guildhall. Of other civic benefactors in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries we must record the names of Sir John Philpot, who destroyed the pirates: of Sir William Sevenoke, who founded a grammar school in his native town: of Sir Robert Chichele, who gave money to provide a dinner and two-pence once a year to 2400 poor householders: of Sir John Wells, who brought water from Tyburn: of Sir William Estfried, who constructed a conduit from Highbury to Cripplegate: of John Carpenter, town clerk, who has given us the Liber Albus, and who founded a small charity which in time grew into the City of London School: of Sir John Niel, master of the hospital of St. Thomas Acon in Chepe, who proposed to found four new City schools: of William Byngham, who founded at Cambridge the small college called God’s House for twenty-four scholars, which afterwards developed into the illustrious and venerable College of Christ: of William Elsinge, who founded the Spital for a hundred poor men which afterwards became Sion College: of John Barnes, who left money to be lent to young men beginning in business: of Philip Malpas, who left the then large sum of £125 a year for the relief of poor prisoners, besides great benefactions to the poor, and a sum of money then yielding £25 a year for Preachers on the three Easter Holydays at St. Mary Spital. When we remember that a priest could then live on £6 a year—does that include his lodging?—the remuneration for three sermons seems generous indeed. Robert Large belongs to the latter half of the fifteenth century: he left a great sum of money in various bequests, including the very useful charity of a marriage dot for poor Maids. There were others, but these may suffice. They sufficiently prove the wealth of the donors, because a man thinks first of his own children or nephews: when he has provided for them, and not till then, he may consider how best to dispose of the residue. They prove also what is known from other sources of information that the endowment of monastic houses had practically ceased. Whittington, it is true, founded a college, but the chief duty of the Fellows was to sing masses daily and for ever for the repose of his own soul and that of his wife. I know nothing that shows the decay of the old belief in monks and friars more clearly than the list of fourteenth and fifteenth century benefactions and endowments. “Let us have libraries for scholars, and almshouses for the aged poor,” says Whittington, and endowed them. “Let us have schools,” says Sevenoke, Carpenter, and Byngham, and they endow them. But for the rich monks of the Holy Trinity, St. Mary of Grace, of St. Albans, of St. Peter’s—nothing.

Henry could not afford to quarrel either with the Church or with the City. He passed the statute De comburendis haereticis and the Bishops began to light those baleful fires of Smithfield which, far more than wealth, far more than luxury, alienated the hearts of the people from the Church.

The first of London Martyrs was a priest of St. Osyth’s in the City. At the head of a narrow lane south of Cheapside called Size Lane—or St. Osyth’s Lane—is one of those tiny enclosures which in the City mark the site of a former church and churchyard, encroached upon by successive generations, surrounded by high walls, a melancholy reminder of the past. Here was the church of St. Osyth, and on this spot were preached the doctrines of Wyclyf by William Sautre. He was chosen as the first victim on account of his personal popularity. The greater the man, the more terrible would be the example. Already he had been tried and convicted of heresy. He was now tried and convicted as a relapsed heretic. He denied the doctrine of transubstantiation, which has always been the heretic’s stumbling-block. They burned him at Smithfield after a ceremony of degradation at St. Paul’s. Sharpe thinks that he was sentenced by special order of the King, because it took place before the passing of the Statute.

In the year 1410 was burnt a humble working man, a tailor—but the Chronicle and Stow call him a clerk—of Worcester, named John Bradby. The Prince of Wales, already a zealot in the cause of orthodoxy, was present. The poor wretch was placed in a cask surrounded with faggots. At the agonised shrieks of the wretched man, the Prince ordered him to be taken out, and offered him life and enough to live upon if he would confess the true faith. The man refused and was put back again into the cask. The story is thus related in the Chronicle:—

“This same yere there was a clerk that beleved nought on the sacrament of the auter, that is to seye Godes body, which was dampned and brought into Smythfield to be brent, and was bounde to a stake where he schulde be brent. And Henry, prynce of Walys, thanne the kynges eldest sone, consailed him for to as forsake his heresye, and holde the righte wey of holy chirche. And the prior of seynt Bertelmewes in Smythfield broughte the holy sacrament of Godes body, with xii torches lyght before, and in this wyse cam to this cursed heretyk: and it was asked hym how he beleved: and he ansuerde, that he belevyd well that it was halowed bred and nought Godes body: and thanne was the toune put over him, and fyre kindled thereinne: and whanne the wrecche felte the fyre he cried mercy: and annon the prynce comanded to take away the toune and to quench the fyre, the whiche was don anon at his comaundement: and thanne the prynce asked him if he would forsake his heresye and taken hym to the feith of holy chirche, whiche if he wold don, he schuld have hys lyf and good ynowe to lyven by: and the cursed schrewe wold nought, but contynued forth in his heresye: wherefore he was brent.”

Besides the weapon of the stake the King gave the clergy other help in suppressing heresy. He put a price upon the head of Sir John Oldcastle, Lord Cobham, who was considered the leader of the Lollards. His importance is indicated by the huge rewards offered for his capture. Information which would lead to his arrest would be rewarded by 500 marks: actual arrest would be rewarded with a thousand marks: the city or borough which should take him should be forever free of all taxes, tallages, tenths, fifteenths, and other assessments. Conventicles were forbidden; and, to prevent the performance of heretical services, no one was allowed to enter a church after nine in the evening or before five in the morning.

In the year 1407 there occurred a pestilence in the City which carried off, Stow says, thirty thousand in London alone. Nothing, however, is said about it in Holinshed, or in the Chronicle.

In 1409 there was a great and noble tournament held between the Hainaulters and the English.

In order to gratify the richer part of the commonalty by keeping out the country, those who flocked into the towns and wanted to learn trades and be apprenticed, Henry passed a law forbidding any to be apprenticed who had not land to the extent of 20s. a year. The act was repealed, however, in the next reign.

Everything points to a condition of great prosperity in the City before the outbreak of the Wars of the Roses. After every restoration of order the prosperity of London goes up by leaps and bounds. Many important buildings were erected: the Guildhall was removed to its present site from its former site in Aldermanbury “and of an olde and lytel cottage, made unto a fayre and goodly house”: Leadenhall Market was built: the walls of the City were repaired and strengthened: the City Ditch was drained out and cleaned: a new gate was built: the streets were lit at night, or ordered to be lit, which is not quite the same thing: and, as we have seen, the rich merchants gave large and costly gifts to the City.

The consideration and respect in which the City was held at this time is illustrated by the fact that when Parliament granted the King a shilling in the pound on all lands they placed the money in the hands of four Treasurers, three of whom were citizens of London.

In the year 1412 the Sheriffs were called upon to prepare a return of the amount of lands and Tenements held in the City—for purposes of taxation. The gross rental of the whole City was returned at £4220, or, in our money, about £60,000, which would not now represent Cheapside alone. But comparisons based on the assumed modern value of money at any period are at best unsatisfactory. How, for instance, can we reconcile the fact that Richard Whittington’s estate was worth no more than £25 a year with the great sums which he possessed and spent?

The death of King Henry is a thrice-told tale. Let Fabyan tell the story:—it belongs to the Annals of Westminster.

“In this yere, and xx days of the moneth of November, was a great counsayll holden at the Whyte Freres of London, by the whiche it was amonge other thynges concluded, that for the kynges great journaye that he entendyd to take, in vysytynge of the holy sepulcre of our Lord, certayne galeys of warre shuld be made & other pursueaunce concernynge the same journay. Whereupon all hasty and possyble spede was made: but after the feest of Christenmasse, whyle he was makynge his prayers at Seynt Edwardes shryne, to take there his leve, and so to spede hym upon his journaye, he became so syke, that such as were about him feryd that he wolde have dyed right there: wherefore they, for his comforte, bare hym into the abbottes place, & lodgyd him in a chamber, & there upon a paylet, layde him before the fyre, where he laye in great agony a certayne of tyme. At length, whan he was comyn to himselfe nat knowynge where he was, freyned of suche as then were aboute hym, what place that was: the which shewyd to him that it belongyd unto the abbot of Westmynster: and, for he felte himselfe so syke, he commaunded to aske if that chamber had any specyall name: whereunto it was answeryd, that it was named Jerusalem. Than sayd the kynge, louvynge be to the Fader of Heven, for noew I knowe I shall dye in this chamber, accordyng to the prophecye of me beforesayd, that I shulde dye in Jerusalem: and so after he made himself redy, and dyed shortly after.”

Other details given by Monstrelet bear the stamp of truth.

“The king,” he says, “in great pain and weakness lay before the fire, his crown on a cushion beside him. They thought him dead. Then the Prince took up the crown. But the king recovered, it was a fainting fit before the end. ‘Fair son,’ he asked, ‘why hast thou taken my crown?’ ‘Monseigneur,’ replied the Prince,‘here present are those who assured me that you were dead, and because I am your eldest son and to me will belong the crown when you have passed from life, I have taken it.’ Then said the king, with a sigh, ‘Fair son, how should you have my right to the crown when I have never had any, and that you know well?’ ‘Monseigneur,’ replied the Prince,‘just as you have held it and defended it by the sword, so will I defend it all my life.’ Then said the king,‘Do with it as it seemeth good to thee.’”

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CHAPTER X
HENRY V

On the night of his father’s funeral, the new King remained in the Abbey. He spent that night in confessing and praying at the cell of the anchorite which was outside the Chapel of Saint Catherine where are now the Little Cloisters. Stanley calls this the Conversion of Henry. That is because Stanley believed all that has been written about the youth of Henry—about his wild days, and his wild companions. But this Prince never existed except in the later popular imagination. That is to say, it has been clearly proved that he was so much occupied in Wales and elsewhere during his youth and early manhood that there was small opportunity for wild revels in London. It must be owned that there has been a persistent tradition of a stormy time in youth, but it seems as if the popular imagination had confused Henry with Edward II. Holinshed, for instance, quotes one:

Ille inter juvenes paulo lascivior ante, Defuncto genitore, gravis constansque repente Moribus ablegat corruptis regis ab aula Assuetos socios, et nugatoribus acrem Poenam (si quisquam sua tecta reviserit) addit, Atque ita mutatus facit omnia principe digna, Ingenio magno post consultoribus usus, etc. (Vol. iii.)

However this may be, Henry was always open to the influences of religion. He was crowned on 9th April, Passion Sunday. The coronation was marred by a heavy thunderstorm with torrents of rain, so that men’s hearts failed them for fear, thinking of what evil things this portent might mean. In the end it was recognised as foreshadowing trouble for the French.

His first act was the removal of King Richard’s body to Westminster with great pomp and state. He was probably induced to perform this pious act by the desire to dissociate himself and his father from any connection with the deposed King’s death. He then, being urged thereto by Archbishop Arundel, arrested Sir John Oldcastle, but first sent for him and caused him to explain his faith and teaching. This Sir John did, declaring the King, and not the Archbishop at all, to be his supreme judge, and offering to purge himself in battle or to bring a hundred knights or esquires for his purgation. The King, however, being advised by his Council, handed him over to be tried by the Spiritual Courts. The trial was held first in St. Paul’s Cathedral, and next in the Hall of the Dominicans. The verdict of the Archbishop was, of course, that Oldcastle was a heretic. He was sent back to the Tower, whence he managed to escape. And then occurred the mysterious plot, which one cannot avoid concluding was no more a plot than any fabricated by Titus Oates. What really happened was this. Sir Roger Acton, a knight “of great wit and possessions,” one John Browne, an esquire, and one John Beverley, Priest, and some others were reported to the King to be gathered together in armour near St. Giles Church. It was also said that they expected reinforcements in large numbers from the City: Holinshed says 50,000 were expected; Walsingham puts the number at 5000. The time of year was soon after Christmas. The King caused the City gates to be closed, then he repaired to Westminster and there getting together a sufficient force, rode out to St. Giles where he found the people assembling at midnight, and falling upon them, either killed or took them all prisoners. Possibly the leaders proposed a Lollard demonstration, armed, no doubt, because every one carried arms for every occasion; certainly, next day the arrest of suspected persons began: in a short time the City prisons were full: those who appeared to be the leaders were tried, some for heresy by the clergy, and some for high treason at the Guildhall. In the end twenty-nine were either hanged or burned, the latter, for the greater terror, gallows and all.

This so-called rising gave an occasion for a more severe statute against the Lollards by which the secular power, no longer contented with carrying out the sentences of the ecclesiastical courts, undertook the initiative against heretics. This points to some kind of panic. Perhaps the clergy had realised the full danger of the Lollard movement. Early in 1415 Henry sent an offer of pardon to Oldcastle if he would make submission. He refused, perhaps distrusting the promise, and, according to Walsingham, prepared for an insurrection as soon as the King should have gone to France. But the King went to France not troubling about Oldcastle: and there was no rising. Probably, therefore, Walsingham imagined or invented this motive. The fires of martyrdom were lit again that same day. Witness the letter written by the Mayor or Aldermen to the King, touching the trial and execution of John Cleydon. The man was a currier by trade: he had in his possession a number of heretical books, for which he was tried by Archbishop Chichele in St. Paul’s on 17th August 1415. The king being then in France, the Mayor himself gave evidence against the prisoner, who was sentenced to be burned with all his books. The case was deemed of sufficient importance to demand a special letter to the King, of which the following is the important part:—

“Forasmuch as the King of all might and the Lord of Heaven, who of late graciously taught your hands to fight, and has guided your feet to battle, has now, during your absence, placed in our hands certain persons who not only were enemies of Him and of your dignity, but also, in so far as they might be, were subverters of the whole of your realm: men commonly known as “Lollards” who for long time have laboured for the subversion of the whole Catholic Faith and of Holy Church, the lessening of public worship, and the destruction of your realm, as also the perpetration of very many other enormities horrible to hear: the same persons, in accordance with the requirements of law, we have unto the Reverend Commissaries of Reverend Father in Christ, and Lord, Richard, by Divine permission, the Lord Bishop of London, by indenture caused to be delivered. Whereupon one John Cleydone, by name, the arch parent of this heretical depravity, was by the most reverend Father in Christ, and Lord, Henry, by Divine permission, the Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, Primate of all your realm and other Bishops, his brethren, as well as very many Professors of Holy Scripture and Doctors of Laws, in accordance with the canonical sanctions, by sentence in this behalf lawfully pronounced, as being a person relapsed into heresy, which before had been by him abjured, left in the hands of the secular Court: for the execution of whose body, and the entire destruction of all such enemies, with all diligence, to the utmost of our power we shall be assisting.” (Riley’s Memorials, p. 617.)

We may perhaps see in this letter the desire of the City Fathers to clear themselves from any suspicion of Lollardy. The worthy citizens did not desire a reform in church doctrine so much as a return to simple measures and holy living.

For two years Oldcastle led a wandering life with a few companions. He was once nearly taken at St. Albans, where the Abbot’s servants heard of him and went out to arrest him. He got away, but some of his servants were caught: and they found books of devotion upon them in which the painted heads of the Saints had been scraped off: the names of the Virgin and of the saints had been blotted: and divers writings had been made up and down the page in derogation of honour paid to the Virgin and to the Saints. These books were displayed at Paul’s Cross to illustrate the extreme wickedness of Lollardy. At length Sir John Oldcastle was taken by Sir Edward Charlton, Lord of Powis. So much importance was attached to the capture that Charlton received a reward of 1000 marks. There does not appear to have been the slightest grounds for representing this great and noble man, a hundred and fifty years in advance of his age, as a traitor, a conspirator, or in any sense hostile to the King. He was free for two years to work his conspiracies and he refrained. But he was always active in disseminating Lollard teaching. In 1417 he was hung on a gallows by chains, and was, it is said, slowly burned to death, at St. Giles, close to the south end of the present Tottenham Court Road. Like so many martyrs, like Latimer, like Cranmer, like Ridley, he was sustained through the fiery torment by the steadfast faith which burned in his soul more fiercely than the crackling flame without. Before he suffered he prayed forgiveness for his enemies: he exhorted the people to obey the Scripture in all things: he refused the ministrations of a priest. “To God only, now as ever present, he would confess.”

It seems afterwards, amid the wars and strifes and bloodshed of the century, as if Lollardy was dead. It was not. The memory of Sir John survived; the teaching of the simple life, the pure life, the chaste life, remained in men’s hearts and bore fruit when they found time and opportunity to compare once more the Church of the present with the Church of the past.

Henry, for the purpose of strengthening his doubtful seat on the throne by the prestige of victories, resolved upon continuing the foreign policy of Edward III. On 10th March 1415 he informed the Mayor of his intention. A great meeting, with the King’s brothers and some of the Bishops, was held at the Guildhall to consider the question of finance. This meeting is important because the precedence of the Mayor in the City was there decided. He was considered as the King’s representative in the City, and therefore took the highest place with the Bishops on his right and the King’s brothers on his left. The King pledged his jewels and the security of his customs for the sum of 20,000 marks. Later on, the City advanced the sum of 5000 marks and a further sum of £2000 on the security of a valuable sword set in gold and precious stones.

The conspiracy of the Earl of Cambridge and Lord Scrope, discovered on the eve of sailing from Southampton, proves that the crown of the Lancastrian was still insecure. But Henry was going to show himself in the light of a great captain against whom conspiracies were useless and futile.

There was no doubt as to the loyalty of the City under Harry of Monmouth. When the forces in France were suffering from scarcity of victuals, the citizens sent off to Rouen thirty butts of sweet wine, 1000 pipes of ale and beer, and 25,000 cups for the men’s use. And they scoured the City for any vagrant soldiers, whom they shipped off as they were pressed, to join the army. The news of Agincourt (Oct. 25, 1415) reached London on 28th October when the new Lord Mayor, Nicholas Wotton, was sworn into office at the Guildhall. He conveyed the news to the Lord High Chancellor, and they celebrated the event with a Te Deum at St. Paul’s. On the following day the Mayor, accompanied by the Aldermen, the companies, and as many of the nobility as had houses in the City, walked in procession to Westminster, where they made oblations at the shrine of St. Edward. They were careful to record that this walking on foot was not to be taken as a precedent or to supplant their riding. When the King himself returned he was received with the greatest rejoicings, rejoicings unlike those which greeted many of his predecessors, for they were real. A victorious Prince, young, gallant, successful, wins all hearts. He brought to England with him all his prisoners, a goodly company. He was met on Blackheath by the Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs dressed in scarlet gowns, with three hundred of the principal citizens all richly accoutred. At St. Thomas Watering the London clergy met him with their most gorgeous robes; the City was decorated with carpets and tapestry, and there were pageants with children representing angels and singing praises and psalms, while the conduits ran wine. This is William Gregory’s account of the Riding:—

“And the xxiij day of November the kyng came unto London whythe alle hys prisoners above sayd. And there he was resseyvyd worthily and royally by the mayre with all the aldermen whythe hym there. And whythe a royalle processyon he was broughte home: and there was made stondyng upon the brydge Syn George royally armyd, and at the Crosse in Cheppe was made a castelle and there with was moche solemnyte of angelys and virgenys syngyng. And soo he roode untylle that he came to Powbys and there mette whithe hym xvi byschoppys and abbatys whithe processyon and seizyd him and broughte hym uppe into thw quere whythe devoute songe, and there he offered and the Fraunsythe lordys alle so. And thaunce he roode forthe unto Westmynster: and the mayre and hys brethren broughte hym there.”

The day after this triumph the Mayor and Aldermen presented the King with the sum of £1000 in gold and deposited it in two golden basins worth half as much.

There was another grand procession of 14th June 1420, when the news arrived of the Treaty of Troyes which made Henry heir to the French crown. In February 1421 the King with his newly-married Queen, Katherine, arrived at London and lay at the Tower. Another grand procession escorted them to Westminster where Katherine was crowned. On this occasion, as on the return from Agincourt, the City assumed every appearance of joy.

As regards internal affairs during this reign, the Mayor in 1415 ordered the citizens to hang out lanthorns for the lighting of the City by night. Leadenhall Market was built at the expense of Sir Simon Eyre, sometime Mayor. He designed it as a public granary in time of scarcity, but it never appears to have been used as such. On one side was a chapel with a college endowed as a Fraternity of the Trinity, consisting of sixty priests, by whom mass was sung on market day. In the Hall was kept the common Beam for weighing wool, and a public market was held. The Hall was afterwards used as an Armoury for the City, and lastly turned into a Meat Market.

And then, alas! this gallant Prince died, being then no more than thirty-two years of age. This lamentable event, which prepared the way for all the miseries of foreign humiliation and civil war, happened at Bois de Vincennes on the 31st August 1422. The body of the King was brought over from France, and received a funeral worthy of his kingly virtues. In an open chariot it lay coffined; and above the coffin was the effigy of the King in royal robes, a crown upon his head, a sceptre in one hand and the orb in the other. The figure lay upon a rich cloth and the canopy was borne by nobles. The obsequies were performed at St. Paul’s, and the body was then taken to Westminster.

And so ended prematurely the life of the best-beloved King that ever England saw, and they were no feigned or perfunctory tears that flowed abundantly at his obsequies. Let me transcribe the words of John Hardyng in his Chronicle:—

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CHAPTER XI
HENRY VI

The disastrous and miserable reign of Henry of Windsor began when the King, an infant less than a year old, was carried through London in the lap of his mother. He was placed under the guardianship of the late King’s brothers, the Duke of Bedford and the Duke of Gloucester. The former being the elder claimed to be Protector of the Realm, which was granted him, his Protectorate to begin on his return from France. The glories and victories of the late reign, the personal popularity of Henry V., and his constant support of the Church seemed to have removed for the time all fears of further risings against the Lancastrian House. But the materials for rebellion always remain where there is a rightful heir standing apart, and not contented with the simple rank of noble. The reign, indeed, began with the conviction of Sir John Mortimer for treasonable designs in favour of the Earl of March. In addition to this danger, the great nobles were always ready to take offence and to join any insurrection that might offer; while, as regards the City, though it was true and loyal to all appearance, its loyalty, as had been already proved on many occasions, would not stand the strain of bad trade, increased taxation, or invasion of the City liberties. Above all, the young King had a very long period of tutelage before him, and the country had to expect during that period the uncertainties and the dangers of a Protectorate. The first sign of approaching disturbance was the quarrel between the Duke of Gloucester and Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester. It is a very singular story as told by Gregory. The Bishop was going to seize the City by armed force. Why? with what object? Perhaps he proposed to depose the Duke of Gloucester, but then he would have had to reckon with the Duke of Bedford.

“And that same yere that the mayre rode to Westmynster on the same daye for to take hys othe, that ys, was the xxix daye of Septembyr, whenne that he come home to hys mete with hys aldyrmen and with hys goode comyners, or that they hadde fully, etc., the Duke of Glouceter sende for the mayre and hys aldermen that they shulde come speke with hym: and whenne they come he cargyd the mayre that he shuld kepe welle the cytte that nyght for my Lorde of Glouceter and the Byschoppe of Wynchester were not goode frendys as in that tyme. And on the morowe certayne men kepte the gatys of the brygge of London by the commaundement of the Lorde of Glouceter and of the mayre. And by-twyne ix and x of the belle ther come certayne men of the Byschoppys of Wynchester and drewe the chaynys of the stulpys at the brygge ende in Southework ys syde, the whiche were both knyghtys and squyers, with a great mayny of archerys, and they enbaytaylyd them, and made defens of wyndowys and pypys as hyt hadde bene in the londe of warre, as thowe they wolde have fought agayne the kyngys pepylle and brekyng of the pes. And thenne the pepylle of the cytte hyrde thereof, and they in haste schytte in ther shoppys and come downe to the gatys of the brygge in kepyng of the cytte ande savacyon of the cytte a-gayns the kyngys enmys, for alle the shoppys in London were schytte in one howr. And thenne come my Lorde of Cauntyrbury ande the Prynce of Portynggale, and tretyd by twyne my Lorde of Glouceter and the Byschoppe of Wynchester for they rode viij tymes by twyne the duke and the byschoppe that day. And thonkyd be God, thoroughe goode governaunce of the mayre and hys aldyrmen, alle the pepylle was sessyde and wentte home ayenne every mann, and none harme done thorough ealle the cytte, thonkyd be God.” (W. Gregory’s “Chronicle” in Collections of a London Citizen.)

The same story is told more briefly in the Chronicle of London (Nicolas). The Duke of Bedford came over and acted as arbitrator. The citizens made him a present of a thousand marks in gold with two golden basins; but he received them coldly, one cannot tell why. However, he patched up a peace between the Bishop and his brother and took the Bishop to France with him, perhaps to get him out of the way. When, five years later, Beaufort was made Cardinal and Papal Legate he returned, and was honourably received by the citizens, “and he was resiayvd there worthily and ryally of the mayre and alle hys brethreyn.”

The following letters between the King, i.e. the Protector in the King’s name, and the Mayor are quoted by Maitland to show certain claims and alleged immunities made by the Corporation at this time.

“Henry, by the Grace of God, King of England and France, and Lord of Ireland, to the Mayor and aldermen of the City of London, greeting. Willing for certain Causes, to be certified upon the Tenors of divers Liberties and Customs of the aforesaid City, and concerning the Records and Memoranda of Servants and Natives coming to the aforesaid City, and tarrying there for a Year and a Day, without complaint of their Lords or Masters before you had, and inrolled in our Court of our Chamber of Guildhall of the aforesaid City as is said: We command you the Mayor, distinctly and openly to send the Tenor of the Liberties, Customs, Records, and Memoranda beforesaid, to us in our Chancery, under your Seal and this our Brief. Witness myself at Westminster the twentieth of January, in the seventh year of our Reign.”

To which the Mayor and Aldermen returned the following answer:—

“Be it remembered that in the Time of Holy King Edward, heretofore King of England, and before from all time no Memory of Man, then was extant such dignity, liberty, and Royal Custom, among others was had, used, and approved in the City of London, which is, and from all time hath been called The free Chamber of the King of England, as from ancient Time it was used, and had in the great city of Troy: to wit, That every Servant whosoever he were, that came to the City of London, and tarried in it for a Year and a Day, without Reclamation of his Lord there, afterwards he may, ought, and hath accustomed through his whole Life so freely and securely to tarry there, as it were in the House or Chamber of the King: And thence it is, that the same holy King Edward, amongst other things, by his Laws remaining of Record in the Treasury of Guyhald of the said City, and reciting the City itself to be the head of his Kingdom, and that it was founded like and after the manner of old Troy; and that it containeth in it the Laws, Liberties, Dignities, and royal Customs of great Troy: He appointed and ordained, that the said city of London may have and keep everywhere, by one Inviolability always, all her old Usages and Customs, wheresoever the King himself shall be, whether in an Expedition or otherwise.

And afterwards King William the Conqueror, King of England, by his charter, which remaineth of the Record in the same Treasury, granted to the Men of London, that they be worthy of all that both Law and Right, as they were in the days of the aforesaid Edward. And moreover, the said William the King, among other laws at the said City made, with the consent of noble and wise men of the whole Kingdom, and remaining in the said Treasury, likewise remaining of record, appointed and ordained, that if Servants remain, without Complaint, by a Year and a Day in a Burgh compassed with a Wall, or in Castles, or in the cities of the said King; whence the said City of London, to that Time, and from all Time before, was one, and the more principal of the whole Kingdom, as is said before; from that Day let them become Freemen, and let them be for ever free and quit from the Yoke of their Servitude. And the Record continues, viz., It is to be noted, that the Laws, Recitements, and Statutes of holy King Edward, of which Mention is made above, are contained in Folio 34 of this Book, in the Title De Heretochiis and Libertatibus, London; and in Folio 113 of the Book of Customs of the said City: and in Folio 36 of the Book called Recordatorium London, etc. It is also had in folio 162 of the Red Book of the Exchequer, called the True Charter; by which the foresaid lord the Conqueror hath confirmed to the citizens of London all Rights and Laws which they had in the time of holy King Edward, together with certain other charters, by which the said Lord, immediately after the Conquest, gave the whole Hyde and land of the City of London, whereof he had then been possessed in his Demesne, to the Men of the said City, patent and remanent under the Seal of the said King, in the Custody of the Chamberlain, in the Treasury of the said City; which Charters are contained and incorporated in the Great Charter of the Liberties and Customs of the City of London, and are confirmed by the Lord the King (Henry the Sixth) and his progenitors. But the Tenors of the said Charters are patent in the Latin Tongue, in Folio 238 of the Book of Ordinations of the said City.” (Maitland, vol. i. p. 188.)

The fifteenth century is full of the disasters and violent deaths of great nobles. The history of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, brother to Henry V., belongs especially to London. On the death of his brother, being then about twenty-seven years of age, he was, as we have seen, named joint-guardian of the infant King, and was to rule England by consent of Parliament, until his elder brother returned from France. The wars and the threatening aspect of things kept the Duke of Bedford abroad except for occasional visits to England until his death. Gloucester is spoken of as a man of profligate habits and great ambition. These general adjectives are convenient for the historian; they sum up a man, and present him in bold outline. Now in nature there is no outline, only gradual shadings. He was, it is said, ambitious. The Court of the young, weak-minded King was full of intrigue and plottings and conspiracies for power and place. The courtiers were all ambitious. What any one wanted, if not power, it is not possible to arrive at with certainty. They all wanted power and place, nor is it easy to see that any one of the ambitious lords was in that respect worse than any other. And as regards Gloucester it must be remembered that if Henry died without heirs he stood next to Bedford in the succession, and that Bedford had no children. As for Gloucester’s morals, we have seen that London at this time, thanks to the Lollard movement, was exacting in the point of morals: yet Gloucester remained popular with the citizens: they made him presents—500 marks on one occasion and 1000 on another—though the latter gift was for the Duchess Jacqueline. It is said that Eleanor Cobham was his mistress before he married her. Perhaps he had the sense not to parade the liaison, in which case the good citizens would not be scandalised. But the morals of kings and princes have never been very jealously watched by their subjects. Charles II. and George IV. are by no means alone in immorality: and the world has forgiven or forgotten most of the others. In other words, there is nothing to show that Gloucester was specially blameworthy on the score of morals. It is, however, quite certain that he was a splendid and lordly Prince, a patron and a lover of the fine arts.

The stormy career of Jacqueline de Brabant, his first wife, belongs to the history of her time rather than that of London. Yet because her misfortunes first awakened the voice of the women of London her life may be briefly noted in this place. She was the only daughter and the heiress of William, Count of Hainault and of Margaret of Burgundy his wife. No one, to outward seeming, could be more strongly protected or in safer hands than this girl. She was married at five years of age to John, second son of Charles VI. of France, the young prince being like herself, a child. On the death of the Dauphin John took the title of the Dauphin du Viennois. He was killed by poison immediately upon arriving in France. Jacqueline was thus a widow at sixteen. They married her immediately to John, Duke of Brabant, her cousin german, by dispensation of the Pope. The Duke was an imbecile, with whom his wife refused to continue. In 1420 she left him and came to England. Here Duke Humphrey proposed to consider the marriage null and void. On the death of Henry V. a bull was obtained to that effect from the anti-Pope Benedict XIII., and she and Gloucester were married. Gloucester then demanded of the Duke of Brabant the restitution of his wife’s estates. On his refusal he entered the country with 5000 English troops prepared to encounter the allied forces of Brabant and Burgundy. But the latter withdrawing, Gloucester returned to England leaving Jacqueline in Mons. She was taken prisoner, conducted to Holland, escaped in the disguise of a soldier, and, then being reduced to great straits and receiving no succour from Gloucester, who could probably get none, she concluded peace with the Duke of Burgundy, her cousin. The Duke of Brabant was now dead. In the treaty of peace she acknowledged that she was not the lawful wife of Gloucester; she named the Duke of Burgundy her heir; and she engaged not to marry again without the Duke’s permission.

It was before this treaty, which separated Jacqueline entirely from English sympathies, that the women of London, for the first time in history, made their appearance in public. Filled with sympathy for the misfortunes of this unhappy heiress, thus driven out of her estates, a prisoner, a wanderer, deserted by her cousin and her husband, they presented themselves before Parliament in the year 1427 and laid before the Commons at Westminster assembled, a petition or letter complaining of the Duke’s behaviour towards his wife. In the following year the citizens themselves begged the consideration of Parliament for the abandonment of the Duchess. This would lead us to believe that in the distracted condition of the State the Duke of Gloucester simply could not get succour for his wife. It would be interesting to know how the women were got to act together, whether by meeting at Paul’s Cross and by female oratory, or, which is much more likely, by house-to-house visitation. Nothing, however, came of their interference.

Jacqueline very soon grew tired of her engagement not to marry without her cousin’s leave. She married a knight of Flanders named FranÇois de Borcelen, whom the Duke of Burgundy promptly imprisoned. Jacqueline bought his liberty by the surrender of all her estates, receiving only out of all her princely possessions a modest annuity. Meantime, the Duke of Gloucester was already married to Eleanor, daughter of Lord Cobham.

In the year 1441 Gloucester’s second marriage was brought to a miserable end. The Duchess was accused, it is said by the wicked wiles of Cardinal Beaufort, but it is quite possible that his wiles were not in this case exercised at all. Eleanor may have been, probably was, ambitious for her husband and for herself. Henry was by this time nineteen years of age and unmarried. The physical weakness of the lad was certainly known to his uncles and the Court circle. Perhaps he would never be able to marry. Perhaps he would die. In the latter event, which was by no means improbable, the Duke of Gloucester would succeed, the Duke of Bedford now being dead, and then Eleanor would be Queen. Of magic and witchcraft there was at this time plenty, as there is still, and always has been; that is to say, plenty to be had for those who could afford to pay for it. The Duchess learned where there was a wise woman, she paid her money, and she inquired and learned what she wanted, viz. how to get rid of a person whose end was ardently desired. Nothing was easier; one had only to make with fitting incantations and magical formulÆ, an image in wax of the person whose death was desired, and then, simply by sticking pins into the image, or by holding it before the fire, to make it, and at the same time her enemy, waste away. There is nothing at all incredible in supposing that a woman in the fifteenth century, strongly tempted by ambition, conscious that her husband was watching every day with expectation the health of the feeble king, would follow such a course. The persons charged with being the Duchess’s accomplices were four—namely, Master Thomas Southwell, a Canon of St. Stephen’s, Westminster; Master John Hume, Chaplain of the Duchess; Master Roger Bolingbroke—his name is also written Bulbroke—and Wyche, “a man,” says Fabyan, “expert in negromancy”; and a woman named Margery Jourdemayne, surnamed the witch of Eye in Suffolk, obviously a wise woman of the time with some reputation for sorcery. The accused persons seem to have been brought before the Lords in Council, who also interrogated the Duchess. They are all said to have confessed. The four confederates were tried at the Guildhall. Was the offence, then, committed in the City of London? The three men were sentenced to be hanged, drawn, and quartered; the witch was sentenced to be burned. As regards the latter, poor old Margery, the sentence was duly carried out, for she was “brent” in Smithfield. The Canon of St. Stephen’s died in his cell the day before that appointed for his execution; John Hume, the chaplain, was pardoned and went about his business; the unfortunate “negromancer” alone, Roger Bolingbroke, paid the penalty of his crime. First he stood in pillory at Paul’s Cross, with all his instruments, the wizard’s tools and weapons hanging around him in the presence of the shuddering crowd; next he was drawn to Tyburn and there hanged, with the usual accompaniments. He protested his innocence to the last.

As for the Duchess she first took sanctuary at Westminster; then, for some reason unknown, she left sanctuary and fled to the “Castle” of Lesnes. Is this Lesnes Abbey near Woolwich? There she was arrested and examined by the Lords in Council. It is said that she confessed. The complete silence and inactivity of her husband, who does not appear to have moved a step in the matter, seems to show that he was convinced of her guilt, and that he was anxious not to appear involved in an odious crime which, if Henry were to die, would imperil his succession, or at least, blacken his name, and strengthen his enemies. Eleanor was ordered by the Council to do public penance. And here follows one of the most picturesque incidents in the whole history of MediÆval London. Accompanied by her women, the Duchess was taken on Monday, 13th November, from Westminster (from which we gather that she was lodged in the Palace), in a barge to the Temple Stairs. There her maids took off her shoes and stockings and her rich gown, wrapped her in a white sheet, took off her hood, tied a white handkerchief over her head, and placed in her hand a wax taper weighing two pounds. In this dismal guise, while trumpets went before, and men-at-arms marched before her and behind her,—one hopes she was allowed the attendance of her maids,—this great lady, the wife of the Regent or Protector, the greatest lady in the land, stepped barefooted along the rough road, while all the streets were crowded and every window was filled with curious eyes, and the people each asked the other if this pale and shrinking woman could be the wife of Duke Humphrey, the Duke of Gloucester, brother to King Henry V., Protector of the Realm? Pity she received none: who could pity one who had practised arts of devilish magic? And were not the ashes of her confederate, the witch of Eye, still smoking on the soil of Smithfield? At St. Paul’s she offered her taper at the high altar. Two days afterwards, she was again taken by barge from Westminster to the Swan Stairs, where she landed, and in the same guise as before, walked “through Bridge Streete, Groschirche Street, to the Ledenhalle and so to Crichurche.” And on Friday in the same way she landed at Queenhithe and so into Chepe and to St. Michael’s, Cornhill. It is a curious illustration of the time and of the respect due to rank that though this public and infamous penance was inflicted upon the lady, the Mayor, the Sheriffs, and the Crafts of London met her every day at her landing. It is not stated whether they accompanied her in her dolorous walk afoot. The Duchess was taken to Chester, where she lived in retirement for the rest of her life.

Six years later, the King being now in the hands of William de la Pole, Earl of Suffolk, the Duke of Gloucester met his end. He was arrested at St. Edmundsbury on a charge of treason, and on the morrow was found dead in his bed. People were frequently found dead in their beds in these circumstances. To give some colour to the charge of treason five of his people were accused of complicity, and condemned to the usual mode of death. They were drawn to Tyburn, hanged for a few moments, cut down alive, stripped naked and “marked with a knife in order to be quartered.” That is to say, slight incisions were made all about the body in order to guide the executioner’s hand. They were then, having experienced nearly all the agonies of death by violence and torture, unexpectedly pardoned by the Earl of Suffolk. Did the conductor of the proceedings keep the pardon in his pocket and produce it just at the critical moment when the knife had drawn those diagrams in lines of blood round the victims’ naked bodies? or did the Earl send off the pardon by special messenger who arrived just in time to save them? If so, then the situation is one of the most dramatic in all the annals of Tyburn. It is said that their clothes were kept by the hangman, and that they all had to return, naked and bleeding as they were, to the City, where they were received with great joy.

The popularity of the Duke in the City is attested by the memory of his name which long survived in a proverb, “to dine with Duke Humphrey,” i.e. to have no dinner at all. The name of the “Good Duke,” who was buried at St. Albans, was given to a certain tomb in St. Paul’s, that of Sir John Beauchamp, warden of the Cinque Ports, who died in 1358. It became a custom for certain citizens—probably they were a club or association of some kind—to meet at this tomb on St. Andrew’s Day in the morning, and there, under pretence of holding offices under Duke Humphrey, to conclude with a feast. Also, on Mayday, watermen, bearers of tankards, and others, came to the tomb and strewed it with nuts and sprinkled water upon it as if they too were the servants of Duke Humphrey. This custom perished in the Great Fire, which burned up not only tombs and churches and great houses but the memory of great men.

The materials for the reign of Henry VI. as regards London are scanty. We can set forth the principal events in a short space. When the Duke of Burgundy changed sides and joined the King of France, the citizens first showed their detestation of perfidy by murdering a great number of Burgundians and other foreigners resident in the City, and also provided a large body of troops maintained at their own expense for the defence of Calais. There was trouble with the Fishmongers, who were made to abate their pretensions. There was trouble about sanctuary. A soldier named Knight was in prison at Newgate, his friends trumped up a charge of debt against him, and as they had expected, it was necessary for him to go to the Guildhall for trial. His friends, to the number of five, lay in wait in Panyer Alley and snatched him from the hands of the guard as he passed St. Martin le Grand. They hurried him into sanctuary where they defied the power of the City authorities. The two Sheriffs, however, forcibly entered St. Martin’s, and dragged out the whole gang, prisoners and rescuers. These they laid by the heels in Newgate and waited the event. It came, after much argument before the Judges, in the confirmation of St. Martin’s rights. The prisoners were all handed back to the Dean of the College, and replaced in sanctuary where they abode, probably till death.

In Gregory’s Chronicle (see p. 112) we read about a certain Sir Richard Whyche (or Wick) who with his servant was burned on Tower Hill for heresy, “for the whyche there was moche trobil amonge the pepylle, in soo moche that alle the wardys in London were assygnyd to wake there day and nyght that the pepylle myght nought have hyr ylle purpose as at that tyme.” The reason of the “trobil” is told by Fabyan. The people regarded this Richard Wick as a holy and righteous man and greatly resented his martyrdom. The Vicar of Allhallows, Barking, close by, thinking to profit in some way by the deception—probably proposing to get a saint, or martyr, or shrine with offerings, or pilgrimages for his own church—hit upon a notable design for increasing the popular reverence. He mixed fragrant powders with the ashes of the heretic as they lay on Tower Hill: then he loudly called attention to this marvel: “Lo! the very ashes of the martyr exhale a sweet scent.” And he sold small portions of the ashes for large sums of money. This villainy continued for some days until the whole town being disturbed by the strange story, they arrested the Vicar and made him confess. Perhaps the Vicar was himself a Lollard and endeavoured in this way to become a popular martyr. There had been, indeed, many popular martyrs, Sautre, Bradby, Cobham, Cleydon, and others; the people stood round the stake in tears, but no one ever dared to move. Lollardy was dying out save for the hatred entertained by the people against the wealthy Religious Houses.

In 1429 the King, being then eight years of age, was crowned at Westminster before being taken over to France to be crowned there. The ceremony and order of the coronation service are fully set forth by Gregory:—

“Nowe of the solempnyte of the coronacyon. Alle the prelatys wente on processyon beryng eche of hem a certayne relyke: and the Pryor of Westemyster bare a rodde callyde Virga regia, ande the Abbot of Westemyster bare the kyngys ceptoure. And my Lorde of Warwyke bare the kynge to chyrche in a clothe of scharlet furryd, evyn as the newe knyghtys of the Bathe wente whythe furryde hoodys with menyver. And then he was led up in to the hyghe schaffold, whyche schaffold was coveryd alle with saye by twyne the hyghe auter and the quere. And there the kyng was sette in hys sete in the myddys of the schaffold there, beholdynge the pepylle alle aboute saddely and wysely. Thenne the Arche-byschoppe of Cantyrbury made a proclamacyon at the iiij quartyrs of schaffolde, sayynge in thys wyse: ‘Syrys, here comythe Harry, Kyng Harry the v ys sone, humylyche to God and Hooly Chyrche, askynge the crowne of thy(s) realme by ryght and dyscent of herytage. Yf ye holde you welle plesyd with alle and wylle be plesyd with hym, say you nowe, ye! and holde uppe youre hondys.’ And thenne alle the pepylle cryde with oo voyce, ‘Ye! ye!’ Thenne the kynge went unto the hyghe auter, and humely layde hym downe prostrate, hys hedde to the auter warde, longe tyme lyyng stylle. Thenne the arche-byschoppys and byschoppys stode rounde a-boute hym, and radde exercysyons ovyr hym, and many antemys i-song by note. And thenne the arche-byschoppes wente to hym and strypte hym owte of hys clothys in to hys schyrte. And there was yn hys schyrte a thynge lyke grene taffata, whyche was i-lasyd at iiij placys of hym. Thenne was he layde a downe a yenne, and helyd hym with hys owne clothys yn the same maner a-fore sayde. And thenne the Byschoppe of Chester and of Rouchester songe a letany ovyr hym. And the Arche-byschoppe of Cantyrbury radde demany colettys ovyr him. Thenne the arche-byschoppys toke hym uppe a gayne and unlasyd hym, and a-noynted hym. Fyrste hys bryste and hys ij tetys, and the myddys of hys backe, and hys hedde, alle a-crosse hys ij schylderys, hys ij elbowys, his pamys of hys hondys: and thenne they layde a certayne softe thynge as cotton to alle the placys a-noyntyd: and on hys hedde they putt on a whyte coyffe of sylke. And so he wentte viij days: and at the viij dayes the byschoppys dyde wasche hit a-waye with whyte wyne i-warmyd leuke warme. And the knyghtys of the Garter helde a clothe of a-state ovyr hym alle the whyle of his waschynge. To the fyrste processe, aftyr the oyntynge he layde hym doune prostrate a-gayne. Thenne the arche-byschoppys raddyn solempne colettys with a solempne prefas. And thenne they toke hym up a-gayne and putte a-pon hym a goune of scharlette whythe a pane of ermyn, and Synt Edwarde ys sporys, and toke hym hys cepter in hys honde, and the kyngys yerde i-callyd Virga regia in hys othyr honde, sayyng there-with, Reges eos in virga ferrea, etc., he syttyng thenne in a chayre by fore the hyghe auter. And thenne alle the byschoppys seseden with a swerde, they alle syttynge there hondys thereon, ande alle they saynge thes wordys thys to hym, Accingere gladio tuo super femur tuum, potentissime. And at every tyme the kyng answeryd and sayde, Observabo. Thenne toke they the swerde a-gayne fro hym, and layde the swerde on the hyghe auter. Thenne bought the kyng hys swerde a-gayne of Hooly Chyrche for an C s. in signe and in tokyn that the vertu and power sholde come fyrste fro Hooly Chyrche. Thenne sette they on hys hedde Synt Edwarde ys crowne. Thenne rose he owte of hys chayre and layde hym downe prostrate a-gayne. And there the byschoppys sayde ovyr hym many hooly colettys. And thenne they toke hym up and dyspoylyd hym of hys gere a-yen, and thenne a-rayde hym as a byschoppe that sholde sing a masse, with a dalmadyke lyke unto a tunycule with a stole a-bowte hys necke, not crossyd, and a-pon hys fete a payre of sandellys as a byschoppe, and a cope and glovys lyke a byschoppe: and thenne sette a-yen on hys hedde Synt Edward ys crowne, and layde hym a-pon the schaffold and sette hym a sete of hys astate, and ij byschoppys stondyng on every syde of hym, helpyng hym to bere the crowne, for hyt was ovyr hevy for hym, for he was of a tendyr age. And then they be-ganne the masse, and the Arche-byschoppe of Cauntyrbury songe the masse. And a nothyr byschop radde the pystylle. And the Byschoppe of Worsethyr radde the gospelle at the auter. And at the offretory come the kyng downe and made the oblacyon of brede and wyne, there whythe offerynge a pounde weyght of golde, the whiche contaynyd xvj marke of nobbelys. And thenne wente he uppe a-gayne in to the schaffold and satte there in hys sete tylle the iij Agnus Dei, and thenne he come downe a-gayne and layde hym prostrate saying there hys Confyteor and alle the prelatys sayde Misereator. And thenne he sate uppe, knelynge with humylyte and grete devocyon, ressavyng the iij parte of the holy sacrament apon the paten of the chalys of the Arch-byschoppe handys. Thenne there come the Byschoppe of London with the grete solempne chalys by Synt Edwarde and servyd hym whythe wyne: the whyche chalis by Synt Edwarde ys dayes was praysyd at xxx M marke: and the Cardenalle of Wynchester and a othyr byschoppe helde to hym the towelle of sylke: and so he knelyd stylle tylle mas was i-doo. Thenne rosse he up a-gayne and yede a-fore the schryne, and there was he dyspoylyde of all the ornamentys that he weryde, lyke the ornamentys of a byschoppe, as hyt was sayde by-fore: and thenne he was a-rayde lyke a kynge in a ryche clothe of golde, with a crowne sette on hys hedde, whyche crowne Kynge Rycharde hadde made for hym selfe. And so the kynge was ladde thoroughe the palys yn to the halle, and alle the newe knyghtys be-fore hym in hyr a-raye of scharlette: and thenne all the othyr lordys comynge aftyr hym: thenne come the othyr lordys comynge aftyr hem. Thenne come the chaunceler with hys crosse bare heddyd: and aftyr hym come cardenelle with hys crosse in hys abyte lyke a chanon yn a garment of rede chamelett, furryd whythe whyte menyver. And thenne folowyde the Kynge, and he was ladde by-twyne the Byschoppe of Dyrham and the Byschoppe of Bathe; and my goode Lorde of Warwyke bare uppe hys trayne. And byfore hym rode my Lorde of Saulysbury as Constabylle of Ingelonde in my Lorde of Bedforde hys stede, and thenne my Lorde of Glouceter as Stywarde of Ingelonde. And aftyr hym rode the Duke of Northefolke as Marchalle of Ingelonde. And before the kynge iiij lordys bare iiij swerdys, ij in there schaberdys and ij nakyde. And one wa[s] poynteles of the iiij swerdys above sayde. And as they [were] syttyng at mete the kyng kepte hys astate: and on the ryght honde sate the Cardynalle whythe a lower astate: and on the lyfte syde sate the chaunceler and a byschoppe of Fraunce, and noo moo at that tabylle. And on the ryght honde of the halle at that borde kepte the baronys of the Fyffe portys, and soo forthe, clerkes of the Chaunsery: and on the lefte honde sate the Mayre of London and hys aldyrmen, and othyr worthy comynerys of the cytte of London. And in the myddys of the halle sate the byschoppys, and justysys, and worthy knyghtys, and squyers, and soo fyllyde bothe the myddylle tabyllys of the halle. And at the ryght honde of the halle uppon a schaffolde, stode the kyngys of harowdys alle the mete tyme in hyr cote armorys and hyr crownys in hyr heddys. Ande at the fyrste course they come downe and wente by fore the kyngys champyon, Syr Phylyppe Dymmoke, that rode in the halle i-armyde clene as Syn Jorge. And he proclaymyd in the iiij quarterys of the halle that the kynge was ryghtefulle ayre to the crowne of Ingelonde, and what maner man that wolde nay hyt, he was redy for to defende hyt as hys knyghte and hys champyon. Ande by that offyce he holdythe hys londys, etc.” (“Chronicle” in Collection of a London Citizen.) William Gregory as a good citizen cannot refrain from giving the menu of the Coronation banquet. One pities the poor child having to go through the long ceremony of the Abbey first and having to sit out this long banquet afterwards.

Next year Henry was taken over to Paris, and there also solemnly crowned, with no doubt another Coronation banquet. In the same year there was a small and unimportant tumult which shows the lingering of Lollardy. The leader who called himself Jack Sharpe wanted to have a rising in London in order to take away the temporalities of the Church. The Chronicle of London says that his name was William Maundeville, some time a weaver of Abingdon. He chose his time when the King and most of the lords were away in France, when, with his friends, he spread abroad bills and placards in every town. Nothing came of it except to himself and his party, for he and some of his friends were hanged, drawn, and quartered, and their heads set upon London Bridge. And, the same year, there was one Russell, a craftsman of free and independent thought, who purposed to create an entirely new House of Lords after his own ideas. He, a Reformer before his age, was hanged, drawn, and quartered. In the same year it is casually mentioned “that Pucylle was brent at Rone and that was upon Corpus Christi Even.”

In January 1432 the King returned to England, and on St. Valentine’s Day (Sharpe says 20th February: Gregory says Valentine’s Day) he was received by the City, the Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs, with an immense following of citizens, who rode out as far as Blackheath to meet him. They presented him with the following address:—

“Sovereign Lord as welcome be ye to your Roiaulme of Englond, and in especial to your notable Cite London, otherwise called your Chambre, as ever was Christen Prince to place or people, and of the good and gracioux achevying of your Coronne of Fraunce, we thank hertlich our Lord Almighty which of His endless mercy sende you grace in joye and prosperite on us and all your other people long for to regnew.”

The King receiving this address rode on to Deptford, where he was met by a whole regiment of clergy all in their robes, with monks chanting psalms of praise. Thence into London where a noble reception awaited him. The description which follows is also taken from Gregory’s Chronicle.

“At the south end of London Bridge was erected a tower: and in the tower stood a giant holding a sword and saying solemnly Inimicos ejus induam confusione. On each side of the giant was an antelope, one with the arms of England and one with that of France. At the drawbridge was another tower with three crowned empresses namely, Nature, Grace, and Fortune who gave the young king gifts. On the right hand of the Empresses stood seven fair maidens in white powdered with stars of gold, who gave the king seven gifts of the Holy Spirit in the likeness of seven white doves. On the left side were seven maidens in white powdered with stars of gold, who gave the king seven gifts of worship, and the maydens sang an hevynly songe unto the kynge of praysynge and of hys victorye and welle comynge home.”

At the Conduit of Cornhill there was a tabernacle in which sat a King in royal apparel: with him the Lady of Mercy, the Lady of Truth, and the Lady of Cleanness, “hem embracing with Reson.” Before the King two Judges of great worthiness with eight serjeants-at-law with this scripture—

At the Great Conduit there was a royal sight like unto Paradise. There were virgins drawing water and wine of joy and of pleasure and comfort, the which are to every man’s comfort and health. These maidens were named Mercy, Grace, and Pity. In this Paradise stood two old men “like heveynly folk.” They were named Enoch and Eli, and they saluted the King with words of grace and virtue.

“And soo rode he forthe unto the Crosse in Cheppe. There stood a royalle castelle of jasper grene, and there yn ij grene treys stondyng uppe ryght, showyng the ryght tytyllys of the Kyng of Inglond and of Fraunce, convaying from Synt Edwarde and Synt Lowys be kyngys unto the tyme of Kyng Harry the vj every kyng stondynge whythe hys cote armowre, sum lyberdys, and sum flourdelysse; and on that othyr syde was made the Jesse of owre Lorde ascendyng uppewards from Davyd unto Jesu. And so rode he forthe unto the Lytylle Condyte. And there was a ryalle mageste of the Trynyte, fulle of angelys syngyng hevynly songys, blessynge ande halowynge the kyngys whythe thes resonys in Latyn wrytyn; Angelis suis mandavit de te ut custodiant te, etc. Longitudinem dierum replebo in eum et ostendam illi salutare meum. And thenne vente he forthe unto Poulys, and there he was ressayvyd whythe bysvhoppys and prelatys whythe dene and the quere, and whythe devoute songe, as hyt longythe to a kynge. Ande so he offerryd there and thankyd God of hys goode speede and of hys welfare. And thenne he rode to Westemyster, and there he restyd hym: and on the nexte day followynge the mayre and the aldyrmen whythe a certayne comeners that were worthy men, and they presentyde the kynge whythe an hampyr of sylvyr and gylte, whythe a M l. there yn of nobellys, etc.”

The next great Riding was the reception of Margaret of Anjou when she came over to be married in the year 1445, when the same “properties,” castle, tower, and other devices, were brought out to greet her.

The disastrous wars in France, the lavish expenditure which produced nothing but defeat, the unsettled condition of the Low Countries with which the greatest part of the London foreign trade had been carried on, a succession of bad harvests, with other causes, affected the prosperity of the City as well as smaller towns very sensibly. When the Parliament of 1433 voted a fifteenth and a tenth it assigned £4000 to the relief of poor towns. Of this sum £76: 15: 6¼ was assigned to eighteen wards of London.

In 1447 a petition was presented to Parliament by four priests of the City, viz. William Litchfield, Allhallows the Great: Gilbert, St. Andrew’s Holborn; John Cote, St. Peter’s Cornhill: and John Neil, St. Thomas Acons Hospital, and St. Peter Colechurch; praying for permission to set up schools of grammar in their respective parishes. They base their request on the small and insufficient number of schools in London compared with the great number that had existed in former days. What schools were they? FitzStephen mentions three in the time of Henry II. What grammar schools were founded between 1150 and 1450? Every monastery it is said had its school. Certainly the novices and the wards of the Abbot were under instruction: their place was assigned to them in the Cloisters and there were rules as to their supervision. But the sons of the citizens were not admitted to these schools. The King replied that the schools might be established or provided, subject to the approval of the Archbishop.

We have now arrived at a strange and not wholly intelligible event, the rising of the Kentish men and their occupation of London.

The most important of these rebellions, known as that of Jack Cade, was one among many which showed the temper of the people. The reverses in France, where all that Henry V. had won was lost, never to be recovered; the exactions and taxations; the many cases in which persons were accused of treason and thrown into prison in order that others might obtain their lands; created a widespread discontent, which, in these risings, became the wrath which seizes on the sword and demands the ordeal of civil war. There were at least three other leaders in Kentish risings, one called Blue Beard, another named William Parminter and a third named John Smyth. In Wiltshire the Bishop of Salisbury was dragged from the altar and brutally murdered; and the insurgents in that county were reckoned at 10,000 men.

Why they rose, and what were their grievances, are shown in the remarkable document in which they are set forth.

As for the people who took part in these risings, it is certain that they were by no means the common labourers and villeins, such as those who went out with Wat Tyler. It is also certain that they chose as their leader one who had some knowledge of war. And it must be remembered that the men who flocked to the standard of Mortimer were as well armed, and as good soldiers, as any whom the King could collect or could command.

The leader called himself, or was called, Mortimer, and it is said gave out that he was cousin to the Duke of York. His real name it is said—but there seems some reason to doubt the story—was John Cade; he was an Irishman by birth and he had been in the service of Sir Thomas Dacre in Sussex, but had been compelled to abjure the country for having killed a woman with child. He passed over to France and served in the French army against England, but later he returned, assumed the name of Aylmer, and married the daughter of a Squire; at this time he called himself physician, and on the outbreak of the rebellion assumed the name of Mortimer.3

On the 1st of June the rebels reached London and encamped at Blackheath. The King, who was at Leicester, hastened to town with a large army of 20,000 men and lay at St. John’s Priory, Smithfield. Instead of marching upon the rebels at once, he waited, and sent messengers to know what they wanted.

They replied by a long and carefully drawn up “Bill of Articles,” which was evidently the work of some clerk or lawyer: it was a document which proves the rising to have been no chance effervescence, but a deliberate and intelligent attempt to set forth and to remedy grievances. It must be noted that Jack Cade or Mortimer kept up correspondence with the City, having appointed one Thomas Cocke, Draper, as his agent.

The following is the “Bill of Articles”:—

1. “Imprimis, it is openly noised that Kent shoulde be destroyed with a royall power, and made a wylde foreste for the Deathe of the Duke of Suffolk, of which the Commons of Kent thereof were never guilty.

2. “Item, the king is stirred to lyve only on his Commons and other men to have ther revenues of the Crown the which hath caused povertie in his excellencie, and great payments of the people, now late to the king graunted in his Parliament.

3. “Item, that the Lordes of his Royall bloud been put from his dayly presence, and other meane persons of lower nature exalted and made chiefe of his Privie Counsell, the whiche stoppeth matters of wronges done in the realme, from his excellent audience, and may not be redressed as lawe will, but if bribes and giftes be messengers to the handes of the Sayd Counsell.

4. “Item, the people of his realme be not payd of debts owing for stuffe and purveyance taken to the use of the king’s householde, in undoing of the sayd people, and the poor Commons of this realme.

5. “Item, the king’s menial servantes of householde and other persons, asken dayly goods and lands, of impeached or indited of treason, the which the king graunteth anon, ere they so endangered be convict. The which causeth the receyvers thereof to enforge labours and means applyed to the death of such people, so apeached or indited, by subtyl means, for covetyse of the said grauntes: and the people so impeached or indited, though it be untrue, may not be committed to the Lawe for their deliverance, but helde still in prison, to their uttermost undoing and destruction, for covetyse of goods.

6. “Item, though divers of the poore people and Commons of the Realme, have never so great right, trueth, and perfect tytle to these landes, yet by untrue clayme of enesessment made unto divers States, Gentles, and the king’s meniall Servauntes in maintenaunces againste the ryght, the true owners dare not holde, clayme, nor pursue their right.

7. “Item, it is noysed by common voices, that the king’s landes in Fraunce been aliened and put awaye from the Crown, and his Lordes and people there destroyed with untrue means of treason, of which it is desyred, enquiries through all the realme to be made howe and by whom, and if such traytors may be found guiltie, them to have execution of Lawe without any pardon in example of other.

8. “Item, Collectors of the 3rd pennie in Kent be greatly vexed and hurte in paying great summes of money, in the Eqchequere to sue out a Writ called Quorum nomina for the allowance of the Barons of the ports, which nowe is desyred, that hereafter in the lieu of the Collectors the Barons aforesaide may sue it out for their ease at their own costes.

9. “Item, the Sheriffs and undersheriffs, let to farme their offices and Bayliwikes, taking great suertie therefore, the which causeth extortions done by them and by their Bailiffs to the people.

10. “Item, simple and poore people that use not hunting be greatly oppressed by inditments sained and done by the said sheriffs, undersheriffs, Baylifs, and oter of their assent, to cause their increase for paying of their said farme.

11. “Item, they returne in names of conquests in writing into divers courtes of the kinges not summoned nor warned, where though the people dayly leese great sumes of money, welny to the uttermost of their undoing: make levie of amercementes called the Greene Ware, more in summes of money than can be founde due of recorde in the kinges bookes.

12. “Item, the ministers of the courte of Dover in Kent bere and arest diver people through all the Shire out of Castle warde passing their bands and libertie bred of oldde time, by divers subtile and untrue meanes and actions falsely sained, taking great fee at their lust in great hurt of the people on all the Shire of Kent.

13. “Item, the people of the saide Shire of Kent, may not have their free election in the choosing knights of the Shire, but letters bene sent from divers estates to the great Rulers of all the Country, the which embraceth their tenants and other people by force to choose other persons than the common will is.

14. “Item, whereas knightes of the Shire should chose the kinges collectors indifferently without any bribe taking, they have sent now late to divers persons, notifying them to be collectors whereupon giftes and bribes be taken, and so the collector’s office is bought and sold extortionously at the knightes lust.

15. “Item, the people be sore vexed in costes and labour called to the Sessions of peace in the sayd Shire, appearing from the farthest and uttermost parts of the west unto the east, the which causeth to some men v dayes journey, whereupon they desire the saide appearaunce to be divided into two parties, the which one part to appeare in one place an other part in an other place in releving of the grievaunce and intollerable labours and vexations of the said people.

The requestes by the Captaine of the great assemble in Kent

“Imprimis, desireth the Captaine of the commons, the welfare of our soveraigne Lord the king, and all his true Lords spirituall and temporall, desiring of our faire soveraigne Lorde, and of all the true Lordes of his counsell, he to take in all his demaines, that he may raigne like a king royall, according as he is borne our true Christian king annoynted, and who so will saye the contrarye, we will all live and die in the quarrell as his true liege men.

“Item, desireth the said Captaine, that he will avoide al the false progenie and affinitie of the Duke of Suffolk, the which bene openlye knowne, and they to be punished after the custome and Lawe of this Land, and to take about his noble person the true Lordes of his Royal bloud of this his realme, that is to say, the high and mighty Prince the Duke of Yorke, late exiled from our saide soveraigne Lordes presence (by the motion and stirring of the traiterous and false disposed the Duke of Suffolke and his affinite) and the mighty princes the Dukes of Exeter, Buckingham, and Norfolke, and all the Earles and Barons of this land and than that he be the richest king Christen.

“Item, desireth the said Captaine and Commons punishment upon the false traitors, the which contrived and imagine the Death of the high and mightful excellent Prince the Duke of Gloucester, the whiche is too much to rehearse, and which Duke was proclaomed as traitor. Upon the which quarrell, we purpose all to live and die that it is false.

“Item, the Duke of Exeter, our holy father the Cardinal, the noble Prince, Duke of Warwick, and also the realme of Fraunce, the Dutchie of Normandie, Gascoyne and Gwoin, Ansoy and Mayne, were delivered and lost by the meanes of the sayd traytors and our true Lords, knights, and esquires, and many a good yoman lost and sold ere they went, the which is great pitie to heare, of the great and grievous losse to our Soveraigne Lorde and his realme.

“Item, desireth the said captayne and commons that all the extortions bred dayly among the Common people, might be layde downe, that is to say, the Greene Ware the which is falsely bred, to the perpetuall destruction of the king’s true commons of Kent. Also the king’s bench, the which is too griefefull to the shire of Kent without provision of our Soveraigne and Lord and his true Counsell. And also in taking of Wheate and other graynes, Beefe, Mutton, and all other victual, the which is importable to the Sayd Commons without the brief provision of our said soveraigne Lorde and his true Counsell, they may no longer beare it. And also unto the statute of labourers and the great extortioners, the which is to say the false traytors, Slegge, Crowmer, Isle, and Robert Este.”

These bills were of course disallowed by the Council as presumptuous, and the King was exhorted to suppress the rebels by force. He thereupon moved from Westminster to Greenwich, but when he would have sent an army against the rebels the men refused to fight against those who “laboured to amende the Common Weale.” Then the King temporised, and since the rebels called out against Lord Saye, he committed him to the Tower to pacify them. He then returned to Westminster, and two days afterwards went against the rebels with 15,000 men. But they had withdrawn to Sevenoaks in Kent. Therefore the King sent off Sir Humphrey and William Stafford with a strong force to attack them. They did so, but with the unfortunate result that the force was cut up and all the men slain, and that Jack Cade and his men returned to Blackheath. Then the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Duke of Buckingham held an interview with the leader and found him “discreet in his answers,” though he would not separate himself from his people.

The King and Queen, meanwhile, hearing of more adherents to Cade’s army and perceiving the spread of disaffection among their own people, left London for Kenilworth. Hearing of their departure the “Captain of Kent” entered Southwark, taking up his lodging at the “White Hart”—was it accidental or by design that he chose an Inn with the sign of Richard II.’ s badge? On the same day the Commons of Essex in great numbers encamped at Mile End.

The Chronicles and authorities differ as to the order and details of what followed. The broad outlines are clear. The authorities, who appear to have been at first terror-stricken, resolved on putting the City into a state of defence, chiefly on the exhortation of Robert Horne, Alderman and Stockfish-monger. They placed a guard at all the gates and at the lanes and stairs leading to the river; they forbade the sending of arms outside the City; they placed machines for throwing stones on the wharves; they gave every Alderman four men to assist him in keeping the peace in his ward; but, in spite of all, the rebels came in. There was no resistance, somebody—nobody knew who—got the keys in some mysterious manner and opened the Bridge. And somehow, the courageous Horne found himself in Newgate. Jack Cade’s symbolical action in regard to London Stone is quoted in every child’s history book. Shakespeare alludes to it in Henry VI. (Part II. Act iv. Scene 6)—

“Scene—Cannon Street. Enter Jack Cade with his followers. He strikes his staff on London Stone.

Cade. Now is Mortimer lord of this city.”

On the first day there was peace, no acts of violence were permitted. The rebels roamed at will about the London streets, and probably if they wanted anything they took it. In the evening most of them went home again. But some remained inside, and according to Gregory “searched,” i.e. robbed, all night. On the next day the real brutality of the mob showed itself. They arrested Lord Saye, the High Treasurer of England, and beheaded him in Chepe after a mock trial at the Guildhall, and in so great a hurry were they that they would not give him time to finish his confession. They also beheaded Sir James Crowmer, High Sheriff of Kent, at Mile End, one John Bayle at Whitechapel. Cade would also have beheaded Robert Horne, but his friends ransomed him for 500 marks. According to Fabyan it was after these murders—according to Gregory it was on the first day—that Cade began to pillage the rich merchants, commencing with Philip Malpas. “They spoyled him,” says Gregory, “ande bare away moche goode of hys and in specyalle moche money, both of sylvyr and golde, the valowe of a notabylle sum, and in specyalle of merchaundys as of tynne, woode, madyr, and alym, whythe grete quantyte of wollyn clothe and many ryche jewellys, whythe othyr notabylle stuffs of fedyr beddys, beddyng, napery, and many a ryche clothe of arys, to the valewe of a notabylle sum—nescio; sed Deus omnia scit.”

Cade also robbed other merchants. Now since nothing so rouses a merchant to fury as the prospect of being robbed, the Aldermen met again and seriously determined that at all costs the rebels must be kept out. They therefore put their defence into the hands of Lord Scales, Lord Governor of the Tower. And then follows a battle, now forgotten, which should have been one of the most picturesque in the whole list of desperate fights. Like the famous Holding of the Bridge of Rome was the Holding of the Bridge of London by Matthew Gough and the citizens. It began on the night of Sunday, July the 5th, at ten “of the bell,” and it continued all night long, without stopping, till eight in the morning. Sometimes the Kentish men drove back the citizens, but never beyond the drawbridge: sometimes the citizens drove back the Kentish men, but never beyond the “bulwark” of the bridge. Matthew Gough, lieutenant of the Tower, was killed in the encounter, so was John Sutton, Alderman, with many other stout citizens and sturdy rebels. All night long, in the clear twilight of the season, while the quiet tide ebbed and flowed beneath the bridge, there were the clash of arms and shouts and groans until the early sun rose. Beyond the Bridge stood the citizens waiting for their turn, which never came, for no one could pass out or in, but the fighting men in the front surged backwards and forwards in a solid mass. And in the houses the people lay sleepless: trembling while the din of battle ceased not.

The rebels were worsted in the end. That is, thinking it impossible to force their way into the City they withdrew. Then the Archbishop of Canterbury with the Bishop of Winchester offered them a free pardon, to include their leader, if they would go home quietly.

In the Church of St. Margaret, Southwark, an interview was held between Cade and the Archbishop. The pardons signed by the Chancellor were shown and handed over. The rebels accepted, and in a few hours the whole army had melted away. Probably Cade found that it was useless to hope for success since London held out so fiercely against him. It is said that he tried to continue a hopeless struggle by taking the prisoners out of the Marshalsea and King’s Bench. He then sent his treasures by ship to Rochester and prepared to march on that place with his army of prisoners. Here the story grows confused. There were certainly not enough prisoners to form an army. Perhaps Cade looked for local support at Rochester. However, he found that Rochester would not receive him, so he made an attempt on Queenborough, and he then fled, making for the dense forest which at that time covered nearly the whole of Sussex. He was pursued by the new Sheriff, Alexander Iden, and mortally wounded at a place called Heathfield.

When all was over and there was no more danger, the King returned to London and marched through the City in state. Mindful, perhaps, of Richard’s broken promises of pardon to the rebels, Henry continued his march into Kent and executed twenty-six of them. With these exceptions there seem to have been no other acts of revenge, and the men were tried by the King’s Justices. The usual distribution of rebels’ quarters followed, and the decorations of London Bridge were enlarged by the addition of Jack Cade’s head and by the heads of a few of his companions.

When we consider this strange insurrection it is impossible to class it with that of the rabble under Wat Tyler. There were men of substance among Cade’s followers. We do not find that at first they robbed or plundered or committed any acts of violence: they called upon all men to join them; and they undertook, as soon as these things were amended, to go home quietly again. The insurgents were not a mere rabble. In many villages they were regularly called out by the constables. Either they were an orderly body or they were kept in admirable order by this mysterious leader of theirs. It is true that a charge is brought against Jack Cade of taking things from the houses of two rich citizens; and of loading a ship with his plunder. It may be true, on the other hand it may be the invention of an enemy. When, again, we examine into the actual crimes charged against Cade we find that he executed Lord Saye, regarded as one of the greatest enemies of the realm; also Lord Saye’s son-in-law, late High Sheriff for Kent; one man whose offence is unknown; and one or two marauders in his own camp. That concludes the list of executions, or murders. We have also seen that he had influential friends in London. He kept good order; he defeated the royal force sent out to capture him; he sent up to the King, whoever drew it up, a well-drawn statement of grievances; the Archbishop thought it well to confer with him and was under no apprehension of ill treatment; on his giving the word of dismissal his men quietly dispersed and went home. It is impossible to believe that this man was a mere adventurer seeking an opportunity of private pillage. Who he was, what he was, whence he came, why he was made captain of the Kentish army, it is impossible to say. That he was a common robber and murderer the facts of the case will not allow us to believe. That he was considered of great importance is proved by the perfidy which granted him a “charter” of safety and pardon, and yet offered a reward for his body, dead or alive, and set up his head on London Bridge looking towards Kent. The “Short English Chronicle” (“Three Fifteenth-Century Chronicles,” Camden Society) contains a memorable statement. The day after the all-night battle of London Bridge, the Chancellor—Cardinal Kemp—went to “the capteyne and gave him a charter and his men another and so withdrewe him homeward.” The “Charter” means a free pardon. Richard II. had done the same thing in the case of Wat Tyler’s rebellion. Yet, a day or two afterwards the charter was disregarded, and a proclamation made of a thousand marks reward for the capture of the leader quick or dead. The reason of this broken faith is said by the chronicler to be that it became known that the leader’s name was not Mortimer but Jack Cade, “and therefore his charter stode in no strength.” So they hunted him down and killed him.

The most interesting of all the Paston Letters is one signed John Payn, in which the writer narrates his personal recollections of the Cade Rebellion. I quote it entirely as illustrative of the remarkable movement:—

“Pleasyth it your gode and gracios maistershipp tendyrly to consedir the grete losses and hurts that your por peticioner haeth, and haeth jhad evyr seth the comons of Kent come to the Blakheth, and that is at xv yer passed, whereas my maister Syr John Fastolf, Knyght, that is youre testator, commandyt your besecher to take a man, and ij of the beste orsse that were in his stabyll, with hym to ryde to the comens of Kent, to gete the articles that they come for. And so I dyd; and al so sone as I come to the Blakheth, the capteyn made the comens to take me. And for the savacion of my maisters horse, I made my fellowe to ryde a wey with the ij horses; and I was brought forth with before the capteyn of Kent. And the capteyn demaundit me what was my cause of comyng thedyr, and why that I made my fellowe to stele a wey with the horse. And I seyd that I come thedyr to chere with my wyves brethren, and other that were my alys and gossippes of myn that were present there. And than was there oone there, and seid to the capteyn that I was one of Syr John Fastolfes men, and the ij horse were Syr John Fastolfes; and then the capteyn lete cry treson upon me thorought all the felde, and brought me at iiij partes of the feld with a harrawd of the Duke of Exetter before me in the dukes cote of armes makyng iiij Oyes at iiij partes of the feld; proclaymyng opynly by the seid harrawd that I was sent thedyr for to espy theyre pusaunce, and theyre abyllyments of werr, fro the grettyst traytor that was in Yngelond or in Fraunce, as the seyd capteyn made proclaymycion at that tyme, fro oone Syr John Fastolf, Knyght, the whech mynnysshed all the garrisons of Normaundy, and Manns, and Mayn, the whech was the cause of the lesyng of all the Kyngs tytyll and ryght of an herytaunce that he had by yonde see. And morovyr he seid that the seid Sir John Fastolf had furnysshed his plase with the olde sawdyors of Normaundy and abyllyments of werr, to destroy the comens of Kent whan that they come to Southewerk; and therfor he seyd playnly that I shulde lese my hede.

And so furthewith I was taken, and led to the capteyns tent, and j ax and j blok was brought forth to have smetyn of myn hede; and than my maister Ponyngs, your brodyr, with other of my frendes, come and lettyd the capteyn, and seyd pleynly that ther shulde dye a C or ij [a hundred or two], that in case be that I dyed; and so by that meane my lyf was savyd at that tyme. And than I was sworen to the capteyn, and to the comens, that I shulde go to Southewerk, and aray me in the best wyse that I coude, and come ageyn to hem to helpe hem; and so I gote th’articles, and brought hem to my maister, and that cost me more emongs the comens that day than xxvijs.

Wherupon I come to my maister Fastolf, and brought hym th’articles, and enformed hym of all the mater, and counseyled hym to put a wey all his abyllyments of werr and the olde sawdiors; and so he dyd, and went hymself to the Tour, and all his meyny with hym but Betts and j [i.e. one] Mathew Brayn; and had not I ben, the comens wolde have brennyd his plase and all his tennuryes, wher thorough it coste me of my noune propr godes at that tyme more than vj merks in mate and drynke; and nought withstondyng the capteyn that same tyme lete take me atte Whyte Harte in Suthewerk, and ther comandyt Lovelase to dispoyle me oute of myn aray, and so he dyd. And there he toke a fyn gowne of muster dewyllers furryd with fyn bevers, and j peyr of Bregandyrns kevert with blew fellewer [velvet] and gylt naile, with leg-harneyse, the vallew of the gown and the bregardyns viij l. [£8].

Item, the capteyn sent certeyn of his meyny to my chamber in your rents, and there breke up my chest, and toke awey j obligacion of myn that was due unto me of xxxvj l. by a prest of Poules, and j nother obligacion of j knyght of x l., and my purse with v ryngs of golde, and xvijs vjd of golde and sylver; and j herneyse [harness] complete of the touche of Milleyn; and j gowne of fyn perse blewe furryd with martens; and ij gounes, one furryd with bogey, and j nother lyned with fryse; and ther wolde have smetyn of myn hede, whan that they had dyspoyled me atte White Hart. And there my Maister Ponyngs and my frends savyd me, and so I was put up tyll at nyght that the batayle was at London Brygge; and than atte nyght the capteyn put me oute into the batayle atte Brygge, and there I was woundyt, and hurt nere hand to deth; and there I was vj oures in the batayle, and myght nevyr come oute therof; and iiij tymes before that tyme I was caryd abought thorought Kent and Sousex, and ther they wolde have smetyn of my hede.

And in Kent there as my wyfe dwellyd, they toke awey all oure godes mevabyll that we had, and there wolde have hongyd my wyfe and v of my chyldren, and lefte her no more gode but her kyrtyll and her smook. And a none aftyr that hurlyng, the Bysshop Roffe apechyd me to the Quene, and so I was arrestyd by the Quenes commaundment in to the Marchalsy, and there was in ryght grete durasse, and fere of myn lyf, and was thretenyd to have ben hongyd, drawen, and quarterud; and so wold have made me to have pechyd my Maister Fastolf of treson. And by cause that I wolde not, they had me up to Westminster, and there wolde have sent me to the gole house at Wyndsor; but my wyves and j coseyn of myn noune that were yomen of the Croune, they went to the Kyng, and got grase and j chartyr of pardon.”

The Civil Wars and the part taken by the City belong to the history of the nation, and may be briefly dismissed in these pages. The City began with loyalty to the King. He was the son of their hero and darling, the Victor of Agincourt; and he was the grandson of their own King whom they themselves had brought over and set upon the throne. These two considerations outweighed all others, even the disasters in France, the miserable condition to which the country had been brought, and the weakness of the King. Meantime the long-deferred birth of a son strengthened the loyalty of all Lancastrians. The poverty of the City at this time is proved by the fact that when, in 1453, an assessment of half a fifteenth was made, eleven out of the twenty-five wards were in default. After the battle of St. Albans, 22nd May 1455, the Duke of York brought the King to London and lodged him in the Bishop’s Palace, St. Paul’s Churchyard.

There were no Jews to bait and murder, but there were the Lombard money-lenders. On two occasions there were riots between the mercers and the Lombards. After the first, two of the Lombards were hanged. They threatened to retire from the City altogether, but remained and suffered another attack a year later for which twenty-eight mercers were committed to prison. The internal dissensions were followed by the inevitable consequences, of diminished trade, the appearance of pirates in the Channel, and the descent of the French upon the coasts. They plundered Sandwich, for instance, and captured thirty ships. Thereupon the City raised a small force of 2000 men and fitted out ships for them.

The unhappy reign of Henry draws to a close. In 1458 the King tried to effect a reconciliation between the two rival sections of the nobility, and called a conference to meet in St. Paul’s. Warwick attended with a following of 600 men in his livery; the Duke of York and the Earl of Salisbury were received in the City; the young Duke of Warwick and others of the opposite factions were kept outside. And still further to prevent disorder, the Mayor kept a guard of 3000 men in readiness to stand by the Aldermen in case of a disturbance.

The conference was held, and the reconciliation was effected; a solemn service with a procession was held in the Cathedral. Six months later the war broke out again.

Early in 1460 the King issued a commission to the Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs for collecting men and arms to resist the Duke of York. The order was received with jealousy as threatening the City liberties, but the King explained that no such attack was intended. In February the masters and wardens were ordered to look to their arms and their men in view of the dangers threatening the City. In June the Yorkist Lords made a descent on Sandwich, and marched upon London. The City hurriedly placed itself in a position for defence. There was a great show of resistance; the rebel Lords were not to be admitted; they were to keep at a certain distance from the City; then a letter was received from the Earl of Warwick, and, no one knows why, the gates were thrown open and the Lords were admitted.

They proceeded to starve the garrison of the Tower into surrender. Lord Scales, the governor, attempted to reach Westminster by boat in order to take refuge in Sanctuary. He was discovered by the Thames watermen and murdered. After the Battle of Northampton, Henry was brought into London as prisoner. In October of the same year, 1460, the Duke of York declared his right to the Crown, and the struggle was no longer between rival sections of nobles, but between the King and the Claimant.

After the Second Battle of St. Albans, the Queen ordered provisions to be sent to her at St. Albans from London, but the mob stopped the carts. Margaret moved her troops farther north. Then Edward and the Earl of Warwick were admitted within the walls, London was lost to the Lancastrians, and the first half of the Wars of the Roses was at an end.

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CHAPTER XII
EDWARD IV

The reign of Edward IV., who had now become, as he remained to the end, the most popular of kings in the City of London, presents a record of continual agitation and excitement. He stayed first at Baynard’s Castle, where he began his reign by hanging an unfortunate grocer of Cheapside, trading under the sign of the “Crown,” for saying that his son was heir to the crown. Of course Walker must have said more than that. There were Lancastrians still among the citizens. One could hardly hang a man for making a feeble pun. His remarks were probably seditious and disrespectful to Edward’s title. From the death of Richard II. to the accession of Henry VIII. all the English kings were extremely sensitive as to the strength and reality of their titles.

The news from the north of the siege of Carlisle would not allow the King to be crowned at once as was intended. A week after the Proclamation he started hurriedly for the north to meet Henry, to whom he gave battle at Towton. The result of the stubborn contest was the defeat of Henry, who with the Queen and his son Prince Edward and such of the Lords as were left, fled into Scotland. Edward stayed awhile to set things in order and then rode south. He was welcomed by the Mayor and Aldermen and five hundred citizens at Lambeth on 27th July, and was escorted to the Tower, whence on the 29th—the 28th day of each month was accounted unlucky—he rode to Westminster and was crowned with due ceremony.

In the second year of his reign he granted a Charter to the City in which he confirmed all past privileges and liberties. The Mayor, Recorder, and Aldermen past the chair, were appointed perpetual justices as long as they continued to be Aldermen. They were also constituted justices of Oyer and Terminer for the trying of all malefactors within their jurisdiction; they were exempt from serving on Juries or on Foreign Assizes, and from having to undertake certain offices; they were empowered to hold a Fair in the Borough of Southwark; and they received certain other privileges connected with waifs, strays, and treasure trove. Three other Charters were granted by Edward. All of them will be found in the Appendix.

The year 1463 was taken up by another campaign in the north, with sieges of castles, and with the usual crop of treasures, perjuries, arrests, and beheadings. Surely there was never any war or contest more disgraced by change of sides, broken oaths, and villainies, than this War of the Roses.

Edward returned to London in February 1463, and was received by a procession of barges. It has been observed, doubtless, that the mediÆval citizens were at all times perfectly regardless of the season: they had a Riding in January, a Coronation in December, a water procession in February quite as happily as in July or August. Yet it is very certain that the climate was as capricious and as uncertain then as now.

In 1464 the King married secretly Elizabeth, the young widow of Sir John Grey, and daughter of Lord Rivers. The Queen was crowned in May 1465. In the same year the unfortunate King Henry was taken prisoner, and brought to the Tower of London. At this point we may take up the somewhat tangled story of Alderman Coke. In the early years of King Edward’s reign Coke was treated with special favour by the King. Other Aldermen were made plain Knights. Coke was made a Knight of the Bath. He had a town-house and a country seat, Gidea Hall in Essex. It was this Coke who, when he was made Lord Mayor, finding at an entertainment that the most honourable seat at the table, which belonged to himself, had been taken by the Lord High Treasurer, refused to sit down at all, and with the Aldermen and the citizens retired to his own house, where he gave a dinner.

Coke in 1465 was impeached of treason. What kind of treason? Gregory says that many men both of London and of other towns were also impeached. Treason was everywhere. Every man’s dearest friend conspired against him. When one sees the things that were done by great lords we may believe the charges against the merchants. The times, moreover, were doubtful. It behoved men who were afraid of losing their substance, if not their heads, to be ready at any moment for a change. Therefore Alderman Sir Thomas Coke, K.C.B., may very well have carried on treasonable correspondence with the other side. He was arrested, released on bail, arrested again, his effects seized, and his wife committed to the care of the Lord Mayor. He was acquitted, but in spite of his acquittal he was sent to the Bread Street Compter, and thence to the King’s Bench, and there kept till he paid £8000 to the King, and £800 to the Queen. Moreover, the servants of Lord Rivers had pillaged his house in Essex, destroyed the deer in his park, killed his rabbits and his fish, carried off all his brass and his pewter, and Lord Rivers obtained the dismissal of the judge who acquitted him. When Henry VI. was restored Coke had his property restored, but on power being regained by Edward, he fled. He was caught, imprisoned, and then pardoned, with everybody else concerned. Coke is an ancestor both of Sir Francis Bacon and the Marquis of Salisbury.

In a few years the proverbial instability of fortune was again illustrated, together with the wisdom—the cunning of a fox—of keeping in with both parties. It was Edward’s lavish gifts to the Queen’s brothers and cousins, and his neglect of the few great nobles left, that caused the next disturbances. The defection of Warwick, and the Rebellion of Lincolnshire, hardly belong to London history. But it must be recorded that the rebels reached Charing Cross, that they found in the “Palace called the Mews” Lord Rivers and his son, whom they beheaded, and that they captured the King. Edward, however, found means to escape and reached London, where he was received with loyal assurances. And so the war began again, as may be read in the History of England.

On October the 1st, Edward fled to Scotland where he was certain to find safety at least. The Queen, then enceinte, took refuge in the Sanctuary. The Tower of London was surrendered to the Mayor, who held it until the arrival of Warwick and Clarence. But Henry was removed from his prison to the State apartments. There appears to have been no order maintained or attempted in the City during these distractions. Every man made haste to change his side, and the caps that had been tossed up for Edward now darkened the sky for Henry with equal zeal. There was a rising of the City rabble, headed by one Sir Geoffrey Gates, whose character is vaguely summed up by Maitland in the words, “of abandoned principles.” The mob, under his leading, spoiled the foreign merchants—Lombards, Flemings, and others—and then, probably having met with some resistance, they got over to Southwark, where they robbed, burned, and destroyed and ravished through all the Borough, together with St. Catherine’s, Limehouse, and Ratcliffe, the City not attempting anything until the arrival of Warwick, when the mob was dispersed and the ringleaders hanged.

Henry was once more a King, and lodged in the Bishop’s Palace. The Parliament, summoned in haste, met in St. Paul’s Chapter House and called Edward a usurper. But the Mayor took care to be sick and confined to his bed. Coke occupied his place, which seems to increase the probability of that alleged treason. The restoration of the unfortunate Henry lasted for six months. In April, Edward entered London again with the customary rejoicings, sallied forth immediately, met Warwick at Barnet, defeated and slew him, and returned for more rejoicings and in order to lead Henry clad in a long gown like a bedesman back to the Tower, and then marched into the west, where Tewkesbury witnessed the final destruction of the Lancastrian cause.

Then followed, as concerns London, the gallant attempt of the captain known as the Bastard of Falconbridge. We may look upon this leader as a freebooter and as a pirate, or we may look upon him as a loyal and faithful follower of Warwick. From either point of view it is a striking episode in the history of the time as well as the history of London. Moreover, it is one of the few early recorded appearances of the English sailor.

Thomas, the Bastard of Falconbridge, was an illegitimate son of William Nevill, Lord Falconbridge or Falconberg, Earl of Kent, and brother of the Earl of Warwick. He had received the freedom of the City in the year 1454, seventeen years before his attempt. (Sharpe, London and the Kingdom.) This distinction was in recognition of his services in connection with the destruction of pirates at the mouth of the Thames. As for his age, if he were about twenty-five at that time, he would be about forty when he led his men to the siege of London. He was by no means an unknown or an obscure person. The Earl of Warwick4 had made him Vice-Admiral of the Sea, “so that none should pass from Calais to Dover for the succour of Edward,” a post of no mean responsibility. Then, Grafton tells us, being driven into need and poverty, he became a pirate, and through his robbery and “shameful spoyling” got together a great navy of ships. We need not believe in the piracy; he probably held the navy for the Earl of Warwick, for whom he seems to have had a sailor-like fidelity. Nor is there anything to show need and poverty. Hearing, however, that his patron was again in the field, the Bastard resolved on striking a blow for him. He landed, therefore, on the coast of Kent and raised a large force of Kentishmen, who seem to have forgiven Henry for his perfidy in the Cade business and now joined the stout-hearted sailor who called himself Captain of King Henry’s people in Kent. He was not therefore a rebel, he was a soldier on the side of the Red Rose. He sent his ships up the Thames with orders to await his coming in the Pool off Blackwall; and with 17,000 men he marched through Kent and appeared before the gates of London Bridge. He wrote to the Mayor from Blackheath asking for permission to pass through the City, promising that no violence would be committed by any of his men. What the ships were to do meanwhile does not appear. It looks, however, very much like an attempt to seize the City. It is certain, further, that he had not received the news of Barnet, or of the death of his illustrious cousin. The Battle of Barnet was fought on 13th April. News could certainly reach the City on the same day, within two or three hours. But it was very possible that in those disturbed times, the ordinary channels of communication being broken off, the news might not reach Kent for some weeks. However that may be, or whenever Falconbridge heard of it, he did not know of Warwick’s death when he began to levy his men.

Sharpe has found both Falconbridge’s letter and the Mayor’s reply in the archives of the City. The latter stated that he might possibly hold a commission for the Earl of Warwick, but that the Earl of Warwick was dead, slain on the field of Barnet together with his brother Montague. That further, since that battle, another, that of Tewkesbury, had been fought a week before (this was May 11, and Tewkesbury was fought on May 4), of which they had certain information from their own runners: that “Sir Edward,” the son of Henry VI., was killed after that battle. They therefore exhorted this Captain to disband his forces and to acknowledge King Edward IV. But as for passing through the City they were determined he should not do so. The Bastard professed not to believe that Warwick and Prince Edward were dead; perhaps he really did not believe it. In what followed, however, he certainly showed the intention of making himself master of the City if he could, and the Mayor evidently understood this to be his intention, for he proceeded to fortify the river bank, which, the wall having been long since taken down, was now accessible at fifty points by stairs and narrow alleys and courts leading from Thames Street to the river. The City had not been threatened with an attack from the river since the time of King Canute. The details of the fight which followed are very scanty. Falconbridge landed some of his men—three or four thousand—at St. Katherine’s, and attempted a simultaneous attack on Bishopsgate, Aldgate, the riverside, and London Bridge. Fabyan says that they shot guns and arrows and fired the gates, but nevertheless they seem to have effected nothing in their attack from the river; at Aldgate they actually got in, but the portcullis was dropped and none of them got out again. Robert Basset, the valiant Alderman of Aldgate Ward, was conspicuous for his courage on this occasion. He drove back the Kentish men, put them to flight and killed three hundred of them in their endeavours to reach their boats at Blackwall. Meantime, Falconbridge with the main body of his men was trying to fight his way across London Bridge. They lost heart on hearing of the repulse at Aldgate and fled, being pursued as far as Deptford, a great number being slain. Ralph Jocelyn, late Mayor, was in command of the citizens; he, too, like Robert Basset, performed prodigies of valour. Many of the men were taken prisoners and held for ransom “as they had been Frenchmen,” says Fabyan. The rising was treated as a rebellion, a good many being executed for their share in it. The Captain got on board ship and on the following night dropped down the river with his fleet and so escaped. At Sandwich he fortified himself, for, as he had 47 ships and 800 men, he was strong enough to dictate his own terms—pardon for himself and his men, in return for which he was ready to deliver the ships into the hands of the King. Edward accepted, and the Bastard did deliver up his ships. Six months later, we hear that he was captured at Southampton; and, one knows not on what pretence, they beheaded him. What are we to call the Bastard, pirate or patriot? Henry was still living, though his very hours were now numbered, for on Edward’s return—he had been brought back—it was announced that he was dead, having met with nothing but care and sorrow during the whole of his most wretched life. Gloucester—not of course Humphrey, but Richard—is said to have killed him; but then Gloucester is said to have killed everybody; tradition makes him a universal murderer. At the same time, as everybody else belonging to the Lancastrian party was killed, there seems a sort of rounding off and completion of the work by the murder of Henry. The fight happening so soon after Tewkesbury as to appear uninfluenced by that event, was a splendid example of the City loyalty. What the Mayor would have done had Tewkesbury gone the other way, it is impossible to say. Loyalty, fidelity, honour, truth, in the Wars of the Roses never survived defeat. They were, however, hugely encouraged by a victory. And when Edward rode back to London he heard with pleasure that while he had smitten his enemies in the West of England, his loyal City, his “Chamber,” had bravely rid him of all that were left in the South.

The Battle of London Bridge is recounted in a contemporary ballad:—

These tumults appeased, and the Civil Wars apparently ended, the City got itself to work upon a question of morals.

William Hampton, Mayor in 1473, hit upon a notable device of terrifying evil-doers. Until then, one pair of stocks had been considered sufficient for the whole City. Hampton set up a pair in every Ward. He also hunted out the women of loose conduct; “he corrected”—i.e. flogged—

“strumpets and causyd them to be ladde aboute the towne with raye hoodes upon their heddes divers and many; and spared none for mede nor for favour, that were by the law atteynted, notwithstanding that he might have taken xl pounds of redy money to hym offerid for to have spared one from that jugment.” (Fabyan.)

Henry’s remains lay in state at St. Paul’s and at Blackfriars. It was necessary that people should understand that he was really dead and out of the way. They were then carried to Chertsey where they were buried. Edward knighted all the Aldermen. Sharpe gives the list, in which one is grieved to find neither Robert Basset nor Ralph Jocelyn.

In the year 1475 by an Act of Common Council the election of the Mayor was ordered to be made henceforth by the Mayor, Aldermen, Common-Councilmen, and Liverymen of the City. And so it has remained ever since. Only while the City gave the election to the Liverymen it included all those who had the freedom of the City, excluding any other residents, tenants, foreigners, great Lords, or their followers. The house called “Gildhalla Teutonicorum,” the Steelyard, was in this year granted to the Hanseatic League. The history of this house will be considered separately.

Two more charters were obtained from the King. One granted permission to hold lands in mortmain to a limited extent: the other gave the City the privilege of package, portage, garbling of spices, gauging, wine-drawing, etc., a charter of a commercial and technical kind.

As for the rest of the acts of King Edward they concern not much the City of London. He entertained the Mayor and Aldermen at a hunt; he also sent the Lady Mayoress six fat bucks and a tun of wine, of which they made a great feast at Drapers’ Hall; he murdered his brother, the Duke of Clarence; he invaded France and came back again;—one must needs speak of his mistress, Jane Shore;—and he borrowed a great deal of money which he did not repay.

The history of the King’s mistresses should hardly claim a place in the history of London. There are, however, one or two of these favourites who, in some way inexplicable, have captured the imagination of the people, and have won their sympathies. Why do we think more of Jane Shore than of Alice Perrers? Why, out of the long list of frail beauties about the court of Charles II., do we fix our eyes upon Nell Gwynne and neglect the rest? Certain it is that, not only in her own lifetime but also long afterwards, Jane Shore was remembered with kindliness and pity. Everybody knows her story: she was the wife of a London citizen, a goldsmith; she attracted the attention of the man who is commonly believed to have been the handsomest man in the country, as he was certainly the most dissolute. If, however, the portrait of Edward IV. in the possession of the Society of Antiquaries is to be trusted, his beauty did not lie in his face; it must have been his stature and his strength which gave him this reputation. When he died, Jane Shore, whose husband had cast her off, fell into the power of Hastings or of the Marquis of Dorset. When Hastings was beheaded, Richard endeavoured to convict her of witchcraft, probably he had some private reason for personal malice against Jane Shore. This attempt failing, he accused her of unchastity, which was not to be denied. She was taken to the Bishop’s Palace there clothed in a white sheet, a wax taper was placed in her hand, and she was led to the Cathedral beside the Palace, where she offered the taper, and to Paul’s Cross, where she made confession of her sins. One is glad to think that the poor creature had so short a distance to walk in this deplorable guise. Some, as Stow says, may think this woman “too slight a thing” to be written of: yet who can read the words of the grave Sir Thomas More, and still think so? And one cannot read the words of Stow himself without feeling that it was no common woman who could thus draw all hearts to her; who could leave behind her the memory of so many good deeds; who expiated a youth of such splendid sin by an old age of such terrible poverty and neglect.

Here are the words of Sir Thomas More:—

“Her stature was mean: her hair of a dark yellow, her face round and full, her eye grey, delicate harmony being betwixt each part’s proportion, and each proportion’s colour; her body fat, white, and smooth; her countenance cheerful, and like to her condition. That picture which I have seen of her, was such as she rose out of her bed in the morning, having nothing on but a rich mantle, cast under her arm, over her shoulder, and sitting in a chair on which her naked arm did lie. What her father’s name was, or where she was born, is not certainly known: but Shore, a young man of right goodly person, wealth, and behaviour, abandoned her bed, after the King had made her his concubine.”

And, next, hear Stow:—“This woman was borne in London, worshipfully friended, honestly brought up, and very well married, saving somewhat too soone, hir husband an honest citizen, yong and godly, and of good substance. But for as much as they were coupled ere they were wel ripe, she not very fervently loved, for whom she never longed, which was happily the thing that the more easily made hir incline unto the King’s appetite, when he required hir. Howbeit the respect of his royaltie, the hope of gay apparell, ease, pleasure, and other wanton wealth, was able soone to pierce a soft tender heart.

But when the King had abused hir, anone hir husband (as he was an honest man) left hir up to him altogether.

When the King died, the Lord Chamberlain tooke hyr, which in the King’s dayes, albeit he was sore enamoured upon hir, yet he forebare hir, eyther for reverence, or for a certain friendly faythfulnesse. Proper she was and fayre: nothing in hir bodie that you would have chaunged, but if you would have wished hir somewhat higher.

Thus say they that knewe hir in hir youth. Albeit some that nowe see hir (for yet she liveth) deeme hir never to have bene wel visaged, whose judgement seemeth me somewhat like as though men should gesse the beautie of one long before departed, by her scalpe taken out of the charnelhouse: so now is she olde, leane, withered, and dryed up, nothing left but riveled skin and hard bone. And yet being even such: who so wil advise her visage, might gesse and devise, which parts how filled would make it a faire face. Yet delited not men so much in her beautie, as in her pleasant behaviour. For a proper wit had she, and coulde both reade well and write, merrie in companye, readie and quicke of aunswere, neyther mute nor full of bable, sometime taunting without displeasure, and not without disporte.

The King would say that he had three concubines, which in their diverse properties diversly excelled. One the merriest, another the wyliest, the third the holyest harlot in his realme, as one whom no man could get out of the Church lightly to any place, but it were to his bed. The other two were somewhat greater personages, and nathelesse of their humility content to be namelesse, and to forbeare the praise of those properties. But the meriest was this Shors wife, in whom the King therefore took special pleasure. For many he had but hir he loved, whose favour to saye the truth (for sinne it were to belie the Devil) she never abused to any man’s hurt, but to manye a mannes comforte and relief: where the Kyng tooke displeasure, she would mitigate and appease his mynde: where men were out of favour she woulde brynge them in his grace. For manye that hadde highlye offended shee obtayned pardon. Of great forfeytures she gat men remission. And finally, in many weightie sutes she stoode many men in great steade, eyther for none or very small rewardes, and those rather gaye than riche: eyther for that she was content with the deed selfe well done, or for that shee delyted to bee sued unto, and to shewe what she was able to doe with the King, for what wanton women and wealthy be not always covetous.

I doubt not some shall thinke this woman too sleyghte a thing to be written of, and set among the remembrances of great matters: whych they shall specially thinke, that happilye shall esteem hir onely by that they nowe see hir. But me seemeth the chaunce so muche the more worthy to be remembered, in how much she is nowe in the most beggerlye condition, unfriended and worn out of acquaintance, after good substance, after as great favour with the Prince, after as greate sute and seekyng to with all those that those dayes had businesse to speede, as many other men were in theyr tymes, which be now famous only by the infamye of theyr yl dedes. Hir doings wer not much lesse albeit they be much lesse remembered because they were not so evil. For men use if they have an evill turne to write it in Marble; and who so doeth us a good turne, we write it in duste, whiche is not worst proved by hir: for at this day she beggeth of manye at thys daye lyving, that at this day had begged if she had not bin.”

It will be observed that Stow speaks of Jane Shore as living at the time he wrote. She was born about 1450; and she became mistress of Edward IV. about 1470; the King died in 1483, when she became the mistress of the first Marquis of Dorset for a short time. She was imprisoned in the Tower on a charge of sorcery, her goods were seized and sold, she did penance as above described, she was imprisoned in Ludgate, she fell into poverty and she lived to an advanced age, dying, it is supposed, about the year 1526, at the age of seventy-five or six. Seeing Stow was born in 1525 how can he speak of Jane Shore as living at the time he wrote? He is obviously quoting some older writer. Sir Thomas More, who was born in 1478, and died in 1535, was five years of age when Jane Shore did penance; he could hardly remember the event, even if he saw it. Nor could the unfortunate woman retain much of her early beauty when More was of an age to observe and to compare. At the same time he probably knew plenty of people who could remember the London beauty in her pride, and in the full flow of her generosity and wit and grace.

The funeral of Edward was celebrated with great splendour. The following account is taken from ArchÆologia, vol. i.:—

“But when that noble prince the good King Edward the iiiith was deceased, at Westminster in his paleys, which was the 5th day of April, the xxiii yer of his reign:

First, the corps was leyde upon a borde all naked, saving he was covered from the navell to the knees, and so lay openly X or XII hourez, that all the lordes both spirituell and temporell then beying in London or ner theraboute, and the meyer of London with his bredre sawe hym so lyng, and then he was sered etc. and was brought into the chapell on the morn after, when wer songen iii solemn massez: first of our Lady songe by the chapeleyn: and so was the second of the courte: the iiide masse of Requiem whiche was songen by the bishop of Chichester, and at afternoon ther was songen dirige and commendacion.

After that he had the hole psalter seid by the chapell, and at nyght well wecched with nobles and oder his servants, whose names ensuen like an apperethe in the watche rolle from the first nyght in tyme he was beryed. And at the masse of Requiem the lorde Dacre, the queen’s chambreleyn, offred for the quene, and the lordes temporell offred dayly at that seid masse, but the lordez spirituells offred not to the bishop but to the high auter, and oder the King’s servants offred also: this ordre was kept in the paleys viii dayez, savinge after the first daye ther was but on solemp masse, whiche alway was songen by a bishop: and on Wednysday the xvii day of the monyth, the corps was convenied into the abbey born by divers knyghts and esquires that wer for his body: having upon the corps a riche and a large blak cloth of gold with a crosse of white cloth of gold, and above that a riche canapye of cloth imperiall frenged with gold and blue silk. And at every corner a baner. And the Lord Howard ber the King’s baner next before the corps, having the officers of armez aboute them. Wher was ordeyned a worthy herse like as it apperteyneth, having before hym a grete procession. And in that herse, above the corps and the cloth of gold abovesaid, ther was a personage like to the similitude of the king in habite roiall, crowned with the verray crown on his hed. Holding in that one hande a sceptr, and in that other hand a balle of silver and gilte with a crosplate. And after that the lordes that wer within the herse, and the bisshoppez had offred, the meyer of London offred, and next after hym the chef juge and other juges and knyghts of the Kings hous with the barons of the eschequier and aldermen of London as they myght went to. And when the masse was don and all other solempnite, and that the lordes wer redy for to ryde: ther was ordeyned a roiall char covered with blak velvet, having about that a blak clothe of gold with a white cross of gold: under that a mageste clothe of blak sarsenet, drawen with vi coursers trapped with blac velvet with certeyn scochens betyn upon sarsenet betyn with fyne gold. Apon the fore hors and the third hors sate ii charet men. And on the iiii oder hors satte iiii henchemen. On either side the for seid draught went divers knyghts and esquiers for the body and other: some leying their handez to the draught and some leyding the hors unto tyme they passed the townes whose namez ensuen.

And the Lorde Haward, the Kings banerer, rode next before the forschorse bering the Kings baner upon a courser trapped with blak velvet with divers scochons of the Kings armez with his morenyng hudd on his hed. When the corps with the personage as above with procession of bishoppes in pontificalibz and the iiii ordrez of frerez was conveyed to the chare. And in ordre as above to Charingcrosse wher the bishops sensed the char, and the lordes toke their horse, and so proceded to Syon that nyght, where at the churche dore the bishoppes censed the corps, etc., the corps and the personage was born as before in the qure. And ther the bishop of Duresm did the service. And on the morn in like ordre as above he was conveyed to the chare, and from thens to Wyndesore.”

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On the death of Edward IV., the Duke of Gloucester made haste to seize upon the Prince, his elder son, then a boy of thirteen, on his way from Ludlow Castle to Westminster.

The City thereupon began to busy itself about the Coronation Festival. The civic procession was already organised (Sharpe, London and the Kingdom, i. 319). The City Fathers were to meet the young King who would come into the City: they were to be arrayed in gowns of scarlet, their attendants, including five sergeants at mace belonging to the Mayor and nineteen belonging to the Sheriffs, would have gowns of pied de lyon colour: the sword-bearer with four hundred and ten persons, forming a deputation from the guilds, were to have gowns of murrey. The riding out duly took place: the procession met the young King and the Duke of Gloucester at Hornsey and rode back with them to the Tower. That same day the Queen-mother with her younger son took sanctuary again at Westminster.

Gloucester took up his quarters at Crosby House or Hall, which still remains though greatly altered. The house was built by Sir Thomas Crosby, Grocer and Woolman, in the year 1466, on a piece of land belonging to St. Helen’s Nunnery, let to him by Alice Ashfield, Prioress, for ninety-nine years. Sir John Crosby cleared away the tenements which covered the spot, together with the poor people who lived in them, and built this palace, where he died in 1475. When the long lease expired there was no nunnery left to claim the ground.

What follows belongs to the history of England. Yet it must be briefly narrated for the part taken in these events by the City. Gloucester began by executing without trial and without law Lord Hastings, the most powerful friend of the young King, on a trumped-up charge of conspiracy. He then called the Mayor and Aldermen to the Tower and gave them his version of the business. For himself the execution served his purposes: it removed an obstacle and it proclaimed his power. He next issued a proclamation as to the treason of Hastings, whom he connected with the notorious and unbridled incontinency of the late King. He then courted the City favour by bestowing honours on the City magistrates. London has always been open to flattery by royal distinctions. He made the Mayor a Privy Councillor. This drew to his side, one may suppose, not only the Mayor himself, but some of the Aldermen, with the Mayor’s brother, Dr. Shaw, a celebrated preacher. It was arranged that Shaw, who was to preach on the following Sunday at Paul’s Cross, should open the subject of the succession. The subject and the matter of the sermon were obviously agreed upon beforehand. The sermon is “reported” in More’s Life of Edward V. If his account of it be true then Shaw must have been one of the most brazen liars then living. His text was taken from the Book of Wisdom, and it showed at the outset what line the sermon would take. The words “Bastard slips shall take no deep root.” He said that the late King having promised marriage to the Lady Elizabeth Lucy before she would consent to her own dishonour, and having had a child by her, was already married to her—yet a Catholic Priest knew very well that there is no marriage except that which is celebrated by the Church: that his marriage with Elizabeth Woodville was therefore null and void, and that his children by Elizabeth were illegitimate. Therefore, of course, they could not succeed.

Next, neither the late King, nor his late brother, the Duke of Clarence, nor, consequently, the son of Clarence, had any right to the throne because, as was well known—the allegation may have had some slight foundation in scandals and gossip but could not be known to the citizens,—their mother, the late Duchess of York, was an adulteress, and these two Princes were the children of a certain person about the Duke of York’s Court. “But,” he cried, “in ancestry my Lord Protector, that noble Prince, the Pattern of all Virtuous and Heroic Actions, carried in his Air and in his Mien and in his Soul the perfect Image of his illustrious father the Great Duke of York.”

According to some Gloucester was to have appeared at this point as if by accident, but he did not come. Either he mistook the time, or he was hindered, or his mind misgave him, or news came to Baynard’s Castle, which was no more than five minutes’ distance, that the people were cold and quiet. If this account be true, the coup was missed. It is, however, stated by Fabyan that the Duke of Gloucester, accompanied by Buckingham and other Lords, was present during the sermon which branded his mother as an adulteress. One would willingly believe that Fabyan was wrong. In what follows, one hopes that he was right. For he tells us that Dr. Shaw never ceased to feel the agonies of remorse for this sermon, which helped to bring death upon two innocent boys, and that he died shortly afterwards. Next, the Mayor and Aldermen, the Common Council, and the principal citizens, were summoned to Guildhall to hear the Duke of Buckingham on affairs of State. The City was in silent surprise: most men knew, or feared, what was coming. The Princes in the Tower; sanctuary broken and by order of the Archbishop; Hastings executed; Shaw proclaiming the illegitimacy of the Princes and their father; what but one thing could these actions mean? The citizens assembled, however, in silence: and in silence they stood while Buckingham, in a long oration, endeavoured to bring them round to the point which he desired. If it be reported truly, or only in substance, as he delivered it, the speech must be accounted a remarkable effort. Unfortunately, it must be considered as apocryphal, as the speeches in history usually are. As it is reported, however, he attacked the morals of the King, his lewdness and incontinency, which was easy; he asked them to remember the many cruelties of his reign, which was also easy—but Edward was no more revengeful or bloodthirsty than his enemies; he recalled the bloodshed and slaughter through which he had climbed to the throne, the heavy taxes he had imposed—in which he compared favourably with his predecessors; he repeated the calumnies and statements of Dr. Shaw; he showed—which was the most moving argument of all—the miseries of having a child for King. “Vae Regno cujus Rex puer est!” What sufferings had the realm endured through the long minority of Henry VI.! Finally, he called upon them in impassioned terms to proclaim Richard, Duke of Gloucester, lawful King of England. No one replied: the citizens stood in cold silence. The Duke repeated part of his speech: they still remained impassive. The Mayor suggested that perhaps they resented an address from one who did not belong to them: they expected to hear the voice of their Recorder. The Duke therefore ordered their Recorder to speak to them, in accordance with City usage. The Recorder did so, repeating the Duke’s own words. Yet still the citizens remained silent. Buckingham thereupon told them that their voice was not wanted in the matter at all: the succession was already decided upon by the Lords. He had invited their voices as a compliment to the City. They might, however, answer Yea or Nay—would they have the Protector to reign over them? A few hats were thrown up with the cry, King Richard! King Richard! upon which the Duke declared that the citizens were unanimous, and retired. The day after, Richard, being then at Baynard’s Castle and not at Crosby House, as is generally supposed, received the Mayor and Aldermen, and, pretending it to be much against his wish, accepted the proffered crown.

In the dead silence, neither of approval nor of dissent, which greeted the Duke’s speech we may read anxiety, doubt, and even dismay. The history of Henry III., of Richard II., of Henry VI., all cried aloud the dangers that awaited a country whose King was a child. All the rivers of blood, the destruction of noble houses, the loss of France, the national humiliation, the waste of treasure, the ruin of trade, of the last sixty years were caused by the feebleness of a child King, and the dissensions of his guardians. Were all those troubles to be begun again? It would seem so. We have seen a similar hesitation with the Archbishops over the invasion of Sanctuary. Both Princes, if the younger should join his brother in the Tower, would be most certainly murdered; no one could doubt that; yet—yet—what were the lives of these two boys compared with the chance of bringing peace once more to this distracted country? I am, therefore, of opinion that the Archbishops consented to the removal of the younger boy and the violation of Sanctuary deliberately, and knowing full well beforehand that the children would be murdered: yet feeling that the evils of a long minority were far worse than the murder of two boys: and that a strong King sitting on the throne, however he got there, was above all things needed by the distracted and bleeding and impoverished country. In the same way I am of opinion that in the City the nomination of Richard was a thing agreed upon by the City—it certainly was agreed upon—deliberately and perhaps unanimously, perhaps also in heaviness of spirit—in order to prevent worse calamities.

After the defeat and death of Buckingham, Richard received a loyal welcome from the City, together with a petition in which the citizens boldly told him that they were resolved no longer to live in thraldom and bondage, “oppressed and injured by extortions and new impositions against the laws of God and man.” Richard received this protest graciously, and passed a statute acknowledging that the exaction of money under the name of a benevolence was unconstitutional. He also pleased the City by forbidding alien merchants to have alien apprentices. In 1484-85, when it was known that Henry Tudor would attempt an invasion, the City presented the King first with the sum of £2400 and afterwards with £2000. Thus assisted, Richard marched out of London and met his enemy at Bosworth Field.

With the death of Richard we may fitly close the history of MediÆval London. The City no longer stands in isolation surrounded by its grey old walls: on the East and North suburbs are rising outside the walls: along the roads stand inns and taverns and houses for half a mile beyond the gates: Westminster is joined to London by a mile of Palaces as well as by the river highway: the old danger that the City might become another Venice—a state in itself—is gone: the other danger, that it would be seized by any King and deprived of its liberties is also gone. London was the chief town of the kingdom: the centre of the Parliament: the centre of intellectual life. Its institutions were by this time fully grown and fully formed.

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