This annual pageant is perhaps, with the exception of Coventry, the only one of the kind in the kingdom. It originated in the celebration of the splendid festival of Corpus Christi in the church of Rome, which was observed with much pomp and solemnity by the masters and wardens of the different trading companies, the members of the corporation, the parochial clergy, and the religious fraternities of the town.

The procession, so far back as the 27th of Henry VI. appears to have been “tyme owt of mynde,” and which several of the guilds were obliged to support. This is apparent from their “compositions,” or bye-laws, containing regulations to that effect. That of the Weavers (anno 1444) provides, that certain fines shall be applied to the “sustentacon and encreece of the lyght of the seyd crafte of Wev’s, at the feast of Corpus Xp’i daye.” The composition of the Mercers, Ironmongers, and Goldsmiths directs that they shall provide “300 mede of wax yearly, to be burnt in the p’cession of the feast of Corpus Xp’i.”

After the Reformation, the religious part of the ceremony was set aside, and as a substitute the second Monday after Trinity Sunday adopted as a day of recreation and feasting on Kingsland, where each company had a small enclosure, within which is a building called an “arbour,” surrounded by trees, and where refreshment was accustomed to be liberally provided by the respective trades. Only seven of the arbours now remain, each of which had formerly the arms of the company carved or painted over the entrance.

The anniversary has often been anticipated by Salopians with feelings of delight,—as affording an annual treat of hospitality and good cheer. The town on the occasion has presented an appearance of lively interest, conducive also to its trade; the bells of the different churches sent forth their melodious and enlivening peals, while the incorporated companies were passing to their places of muster; at noon they assembled together at the Castle, from whence they proceeded through the streets to Kingsland, accompanied by their respective flags, banners, and music of all kinds, most of the companies having some character dressed in personification of a king, or emblematical of their respective crafts, and followed by a goodly array of com-brethren walking (as it were) hand in hand together. The mayor and his friends followed afterwards on horseback, and were wont to be entertained by the trading companies with a dejeune in each arbour.

Such was “Shrewsbury Show.” An attempt was made in 1823 to revive the ancient pageantry; but during the last few years there has been a sad falling off in the display, and it is to be feared that the manifold changes of the present times, and the refined dispositions (probably) of some modern minds, are causes that will soon hasten to a discontinuance what remains of this ancient custom and lively picture of old English manners. [110]

The following extract from a scarce poem published in the year 1770, entitled “Shrewsbury Quarry,” is probably the only authentic account which will afford some idea of the “Show” at that period:—

What friendly forms in social pomp draw near,
With thankful smiles to bless the bounteous year!
In glad procession, brotherhood, and bloom,
(Like Flora’s festals near thy walls, oh Rome,)
The bands distinguished, yet harmonious move,
Their ensigns concord, and their leaders love;
To Kingsland’s Arbours once a year they go,
In ordered elegance serene and slow;
The Bodies Corporate in classes bright—
In different classes, but in one delight;
There blend with mutual hands the friendly bowls,
There blend their wishes and there blend their souls;
The yearly Archon [111] over all presides,
Their state he governs, and their joy he guides,
There mixing jovial with each jovial band,
To each he gives his heart—to each his hand;
With each he quaffs the invigorating cheer,
To friendship sacred, and the hallow’d year;
There union, brotherhood, and mirth combine,
In every face these vital virtues shine.
The sun would gladly in his course delay,
And stretch beyond its lengthened bound the day,
To gaze with rapture, as each bosom glows,
On these rich blessings which his beam bestows;
His prone career, his cadence they behold,
His western stage in crimson clad, and gold,
They see his orb reluctant now go down,
Then march in happy order back to town;
There polish’d pleasures teem with new delight,
And balls and banquets crown the genial night.