Bygone London

Part 4

Chapter 43,935 wordsPublic domain

On the Vigil of St. John in 1510, Henry VIII., then a frolicsome young man of nineteen, who had only been a year on the throne, with a companion or two, perhaps Charles Brandon, came from Westminster, disguised as a yeomen of the guard, to see this setting of the Watch, of which he had heard so much. He came from Westminster in a public wherry, and landing at Bridewell Stairs, proceeded on foot, like a modern Haroun al Raschid, mingling with the people and cracking jests with them as he went along. He stationed himself at the cross in West Cheap, where he saw the proceedings admirably, and after partaking, most probably, of a cake and a flagon of ale at some hospitable citizen's door, he returned, so much struck with the splendour of the festival that he vowed he would bring the Queen (Catherine of Arragon, whom he had married the previous year) to see it on the next occasion, in July.

The Vigil of Saints Peter and Paul arrived, and the gay monarch, faithful to his promise, and wishing to give pleasure to his queen, dreaming not then of divorces and the headman's axe, with which he became so familiar in after life, brought her in regal state and pomp, accompanied by a crowd of nobles and court ladies, to see the civic spectacle, which they witnessed from the hall of the Mercers' Company in Cheapside. The street itself, before the procession was arranged, was a sight worth seeing, and one to be remembered for many a long day. Huge bonfires were blazing up in different parts; the houses were hung with tapestry, and were lighted up with oil lamps and "branches of iron curiously wrought, containing hundreds of lamps, lighted at once, which made a great show;" timber stages, hung with variously coloured stuffs, and the latticed windows were filled with elegantly-dressed ladies, whose diamonds flashed in the light; banners and pennons floated in the evening breeze; "every man's door was shadowed with green birch, long fennel, St. John's-wort, and such like, garnished upon with beautiful flowers;" whilst prancing steeds in gay trappings, armed men with plumed casques, city and guild officials in gay liveries and a crowd of citizens, male and female, in the quaint costume of the period, mingled in picturesque groups below. After sunset the procession was arranged, and set out. First came a band of music, followed by the officials of the Corporation in parti-coloured liveries, and the sword-bearer mounted on a gaily-trapped steed, and in armour. Then came the Mayor on a magnificent horse with housings reaching to the earth, accompanied by a giant; two pages, mounted; a band of morris dancers, footmen, and three pageants. After him came the sheriffs, similarly attended with giants, morris dancers, and torchbearers, but with only two pageants. Then followed a cloud of demi-lancers, in armour, with the City arms emblazoned on their backs and breasts; a company of archers with their bows bent; pikemen and halberdiers, in corslets and helmets; and billmen, with helmets and aprons of mail. The whole body consisted of about 2,000 men, and between the divisions were bands of drummers, fifers, and whifflers, and standard and ensign bearers. Interspersed amongst them were 940 men bearing lighted cressets—iron frames filled with pitched rope, which blazed up and sent forth volumes of black smoke, "which showed at a distance like the light of a burning city," and the same number of men to supply the cressets with fresh supplies of fuel. Two hundred of these were supplied by the City; 500 were supplied at the expense of the City companies, and the remainder were the ordinary watchmen.

The midsummer watch was kept up until 1539, when Henry VIII., considering the great expense it was to the City, caused it to be abolished. It was revived, however, in 1548, and continued until 1569, when in consequence of its bringing together "abundance of rogues, pickpockets, quarrellers, whoremongers, and drunkards," it was again abolished, and although some attempts were made afterwards to restore it, they were not successful.

A.D. 1485-1610. In the interval between these dates, Cheapside was the scene of many a grand spectacle, and it may be added of many a so-called vindication of justice in a way of barbarous mutilations and inhuman executions.

A.D. 1513. The Cheapsides 'prentices, of whom we have spoken, were a turbulent and unmanageable element of the community, keeping their clubs at hand in the shops, to be ready at any moment to rush out and join a fray, and many a broken head they gave and got in these fights, which generally arose, not so much out of malice as from pure love of contention for mastery, which then developed itself in this rough way as it now displays itself in games of cricket and athletic sports. There was one class of persons, however, against whom they had a special hatred, and nothing pleased them better than to insult them with vile speeches, drag them in the gutter or belabour them with their clubs. These were the foreign merchants, importers of silks, wine, and other commodities; the Lombard money-lenders and stranger craftsmen and citizens, who, they said, impoverished the English traders and carried away the English gold. This jealousy continued to grow, and was brought to a crisis by a Lombard seducing a citizen's wife, and obtaining through her, his plate chest, and afterwards causing the citizen to be arrested for a debt for his wife's board and lodging during the time she was at his house. A rumour got abroad that on the ensuing May Day a sort of Bartholomew's massacre should take place, and that all foreigners found in London then would be put to death. The 'prentices now began to insult and ill-treat them as they passed along the street, and several fled from the city. A report of these proceedings reached the king, and Wolsey sent for the mayor and charged him to see that the peace was kept in the city, which he assured the cardinal he was quite capable of maintaining, and departed. This was about four o'clock on the eve of May Day, and on his return to the city he assembled the magistrates and council, amongst whom was Sir Thomas More, ex-under-sheriff, when, after some discussion, it was decided to issue an order to the citizens to have their doors closed at nine o'clock, and to keep all their 'prentices and servants within until nine the following morning, and the aldermen went to their respective wards to see that this mandate, which had been confirmed by the king and council, was obeyed.

After the issuing of this order, which only took place about half-an-hour before nine, Alderman Sir John Munday, on going down Cheapside found two young fellows playing at bucklers in the middle of the street, and a number of other young men looking on. He ordered them to desist and go within doors, and upon their asking him why, instead of explaining the order, which they had no knowledge of, he threatened to send them to the compter, and after a little altercation, seized one of the youths to commit him to prison. "But," says Stow, "the 'prentices resisted the alderman, taking the young man from him, and cried, ''Prentices! 'prentices! clubs! clubs!' Then out of every door came clubs and other weapons, so that the alderman was put to flight. Then more people arose out of every quarter, and forth came serving-men, watermen, courtiers, and others, so that by eleven o'clock there were in Cheap 600 or 700, and out of St. Paul's Churchyard came about 300. From all places they gathered together and broke open the compters, took out the prisoners committed thither for hurting the strangers. They went also to Newgate and took out Studley and Bets, committed for the like cause. The mayor and sheriffs were present and made proclamation in the king's name, but were not obeyed." After this they went in separate bands, breaking open and plundering the houses of the foreigners, until about three in the morning, when they began to disperse, and being thus disunited, the authorities were enabled to capture about 300 of the rioters and place them in prison. Sir Roger Cholmley, lieutenant of the Tower, had come forth with a military force, "and shot off certain pieces of ordnance against the City, but did no great hurt." About five o'clock the Earl of Shrewsbury and other nobles, and the prior of St. John's, Clerkenwell, came with what forces they could get together, as did the Inns of Court, "but before they came the business was over."

A special commission of oyer and terminer was issued to the Duke of Norfolk and other lords, with the Lord Mayor, aldermen, and justices, to try the prisoners. The court was held in the Guildhall, on the 2nd of May, whither the delinquents, to the number of 278 persons, were brought, tied together with ropes, and escorted by 1,300 men. On the 4th, thirteen of them were condemned to be hanged, drawn, and quartered, in divers parts of the City; which sentence was carried out with great barbarity, in the presence of Lord Edward Howard, "a knight marshal, who shewed no mercie, but extreme crueltie to the poore younglings in their execution."

A few days after, Lincolne, Shirwin, and Bets, instigators of the affray, with divers others, were dragged on hurdles to be hanged at the Standard in Cheapside. They were placed under the gallows with the ropes round their necks, when a reprieve arrived. The people shouted "God save the king," and the condemned were taken back to prison. On the 14th, the Recorder and some aldermen waited upon the king at Greenwich, to solicit pardon for the rest of the prisoners, which he bluntly refused, but ordered them to be brought before him at Westminster on the 22nd. On that day the king sat in state, attended by "the cardinal and many great lords," and the mayor and aldermen of London. "The king commanded that the prisoners should be brought forth, so that in came the poore yonglings and old false knaves, bound in ropes all along, one after the other, in their shirts, and everie one a halter about his necke, to the number now of foure hundred men and eleven women. And when all were come before the king's presence, the cardinall sore laide to the maior and commonaltie their negligence; and to the prisoners he declared that they had deserved death for their offence. Then the prisoners cried 'Mercie, gratious lord, mercie!' Herewith the lords altogether besought his grace of mercie, at whose sute the king pardoned them all. Then the cardinall gave unto them a good exhortation to the great gladnesse of the hearers. Now when the generall pardon was pronounced, all the prisoners shouted at once, and altogether cast up their halters into the hall roofe, so that the king might perceive they were none of the discreetest sort. Then were all the gallows within the Citie taken downe, and many a good prayer made for the king."

And thus came to an end the proceedings in connection with the frolic of the Cheapside 'prentices, on what was long afterwards called "Evil May Day."

When King John, in 1215, granted a mayor, it was stipulated that he should present himself before the king or his justices for approval, whence arose the annual procession on Lord Mayor's Day. At first it was a very simple matter, the mayor riding on horseback accompanied by the aldermen, and preceded by the beadle and a company of minstrels. It gradually, however, added new features, such as banner bearers, standards emblazoned with arms, trumpeters, "men apparelled like devils and wild men to clear the way with squibs," "savages or green men" with fireworks for the same purpose, wild animals of various kinds, emblematic figures and devices, many exceedingly quaint and grotesque, and some with punning allusions to the mayor. But the most conspicuous features of the shows of the 16th and 17th centuries were the pageants, a species of emblematical stage representation provided by the company which had the honour of giving the mayors. These pageants displayed a great deal of imagination and mechanical skill, and sometimes cost nearly a thousand pounds.

Sir John Norman is supposed to have been the first mayor who went to Westminster by water, whither he was rowed with silver oars, in 1621, for which he was lauded in verse as "The Sun in Aries," by Middleton, the Laureate.

From 1639 to 1655 the prevalence of Puritanism and the civil war together abolished the show, as did the Plague and the Fire from 1664 to 1671. In 1703 the pageants were discontinued, much to the regret of the people, who looked upon them as the best part of the show, and were especially delighted with some time-honoured representations which were repeated year by year, and never lost their interest, such as that of the Goldsmiths, in which St. Dunstan, their patron saint, seized the devil by his nose with the tongs, and made him roar with pain.

As an illustration of this olden-time mode of celebrating the inauguration of a new mayor, we have selected a pageant of the Fishmongers' Company, in the procession of Sir John Lemon, 1616, of which company he was a member. The pageant consisted of several sections: 1. The trade pageant, "A Fisshing Busse," ornamented with carvings of fish and other devices, the company's crest at the head and St. Peter's keys at the stern, with three fishermen aboard, one casting the net and the others distributing live fish among the crowd. 2. A dolphin, argent, naisant and crowned, part of the company's arms. "Arion, a famous musician and poet, rideth on backe." 3. The Emperor of Morocco, in regal costume, with crown and sceptre, "gallantly mounted on a golden leopard, and hurling gold and silver everywhere about him." He is attended by six tributary Moorish kings "carrying ingots of gold and silver and each a dart." 4. A lemon tree, in reference to the name of the Lord Mayor, with a pelican at the foot feeding her young with the blood of her own breast, emblematic of the love the chief magistrate has for the citizens. Around sit the "five senses, picturing flower, fruit, rind, pith, and juice." This portion is preceded by a winged figure, seated on a white horse, and bearing a sword, eight men in armour bearing emblazoned banners, and two trumpeters. 5. A man in armour, on a white horse, carrying the head of Wat Tyler on a spear, and five men in armour bearing truncheons. 6. A merman and mermaid, heraldically habited with gold chains, and riding on the sea waves. These are the supporters of the company's arms. 7. "The Fishmongers' Pageant Chariot," pyramidal in form, with thirteen allegorical figures, the upper part forming a throne, and seated thereon a winged and crowned figure, over which is a canopy with the Fishmongers' crest. In front of the throne sits King Richard II., in golden armour, whose life was preserved by Walworth, the winged figure above being his guardian angel, who inspired Sir William to use his dagger. There are also numerous children seated in rows above each other, splendidly dressed, representative of the Royal virtues. The stages of this part of the pageant are made to appear as if passing over the sea waves. 8. "The Fishmongers' bower." An arched recess with double columns, adorned with shields of arms of former mayors of the company. This is supposed to have been to a certain extent a copy of the tomb of Sir William Walworth, who lies thereon, dressed in a purple robe trimmed with ermine, and a hat and feather, after the style of the Jacobean period, an anachronism considered at that time of but little consequence. Above him stands an angel, "the genius of London," who bids him arise from his tomb. Forthwith he stands up, makes a congratulatory speech to the new mayor, and then "ridd on horsebacke with the rest of them," accompanied by representatives of the five citizens who were knighted along with him for their services against the rebels in Smithfield. From the time when the pageants were discontinued in 1702, the show sank down into a mere procession, with banners, music, the companies in their liveries, and the men in armour, as they have come down to our day. Hogarth gives us, in his series of _Idleness and Industry_, a graphic representation of the show of 1750, with the Prince and Princess of Wales seated under a canopy at the end of Paternoster Row.

A.D. 1643. Cheapside was one of the nine resting-places of the body of Eleanor of Castile, Queen of Edward I., on its progress from Lincolnshire to Westminster for burial, and here, opposite Wood Street, was erected, by Master Michael, a Canterbury mason, one of her beautiful memorial crosses. It fell to decay, and in 1441 was rebuilt with a conduit or fountain connected with it, but was not completely finished until the accession of Henry VII. The fanaticism of the Puritans after the Reformation caused them to look upon it and its statues of Jesus Christ, the Virgin, the Apostles, and a figure which they presumed to be, and which probably was, the effigy of a pope, with feelings of superstitious horror, and on several occasions they defaced the images and otherwise mutilated the cross. At length the reign of the Puritans commenced, and in 1643 the Parliament decreed its destruction, deputing one Robert Harlow to see it carried out. Accordingly in May of that year he filled Cheapside with a troop of horse, two companies of foot, and a body of workmen with ladders, picks, crowbars, and hammers, and as the official report informs us:—"On the 2nd of May, 1643, the cross in Cheapside was pulled down. At the fall of the top cross, drums beat, trumpets blew, and multitudes of caps were thrown in the air, and a great shout of people with joy. The 2nd of May, the Almanack says, was the invention of the cross, and the same day, at night, were the leaden popes burnt in the place where it stood, with ringing of bells and great acclamation, and no hurt at all done in these actions."

There is a print extant of the demolition of the cross, with workmen on ladders, hammering at the statues, and two men pulling down the finial cross with ropes, with a surrounding of horsemen, and beyond a body of troops with banners and uplifted weapons. A copy of the print is given in _Old and New London_, vol. i., p. 331.

In connection with that event a multitude of pamphlets appeared on both sides of the question, which may be seen in the Guildhall Library. From the mass we select two for notice, the former especially as showing that the Cheapside 'prentices were then a power in the city worthy of being courted by flattery and adulation. Generally they adhered to the Puritanical side, but it would appear that there were some amongst them who held opposite views, from their coming forth with their clubs to prevent the demolition of the Cross; or it may be that they looked upon their Cross as a sort of palladium; had come to venerate it, and not being so bigoted as some of the Puritans, did not care to see it demolished. The title of the pamphlet runs thus:—"The Doleful lamentation of Cheapside Crosse: or, Old England sick of the Staggers: Together with the hearty thanks, which I, Jasper Crosse, hath lately returned to those noble-minded and gentele-bred 'prentices thereabouts, for rescuing my honour from being ravished, especially to Robert York, who was my chief protector at that time. London, 1641."

The second pamphlet, dated 1643, is entitled, "The Downfall of Dagon; or, the Taking Downe of Cheapside Crosse, the 2nd of May, 1643. Wherein is contained these principalls following, viz.: 1. Cheapside Crosse sick at the heart. 2. His death and funerall. 3. His will, legacies, inventory, and epitaph. 4. The reason why it was taken down, and the authority for it. 5. The benefit and profite that is made of the materialls of it, and the severall summes of money which is offered for it. Likewise the satisfaction it will give to thousands of people. 6. Notes worthy of the reader's observation that the crosse should just happen to bee taken downe on that day which crosses were first invented and set up."

We have now brought down the annals of Cheapside to comparatively modern and more prosaic times.

We no longer see the splendid pageantry and quaint festivities of the Norman, Plantagenet, and Tudor eras, with their bonfires, cresset-bearers, morrice-dancers, mummers, allegorical pageants, and house-fronts hung with tapestries, and other such textures. The joust, and tournaments, the setting of the Midsummer watch, and other curious and picturesque spectacles, are things of the past. It is true we still have the Lord Mayor's Show, and the procession to Westminster, but passing along the embankment instead of in the civic barges. We still retain the men in armour and the old gilt coach, and have representatives of the city companies in olden-time costumes, and we sometimes introduce novelties, such as a group of elephants mounted by "Africans."

Bishopsgate Street Within and Without.

Some fourteen or fifteen centuries ago what is now Bishopsgate Street Within was a fashionable suburb of the Roman Londinium, the Belgravia or South Kensington of the period, where the aristocracy and wealth of the City located itself and built magnificent mansions after the fashion of Rome, with columns, frescoes, and tesselated pavements, such as we see in the disinterred city of Pompeii. In the streets might then be seen charioteers driving rapidly along to contend in the chariot race; fair ladies going to witness the gladiatorial displays in the amphitheatre; bronzed soldiers from many a distant province of the empire; slaves groaning beneath heavy burdens or employed in laborious occupations—all mixed up with the ordinary traffic of a considerable city. Northward, stretching eastward and westward, ran the City wall, a portion of which may still be seen in the street call London Wall, adorned with stately towers and bastions, one of the latter having been exposed to public view by the opening of a pathway through St. Giles's Churchyard. There was, however, no gateway in this part of the wall, as beyond lay an untraversable morass, and beyond that a forest extending to and up the heights of Highgate, Muswell Hill, etc., those who wished to go northward from the city having to go eastward to Aldgate or westward to Aldersgate. This probably was the reason why the rich selected this portion of the environs of the City for their residence, as being more retired and quiet than in the vicinity of a thoroughfare leading to a City outlet.

Of these mansions of the patricians of Londinium several vestiges have been found. On the site of St. Helen's, the foundations of large edifices have been laid bare. In 1707, at the corner of Camomile Street, a fine tesselated pavement was found; in 1752 another at the side of St. Helen's Gateway; in 1761 another in Camomile Street; and in 1836 a splendid specimen, in red, white, and grey, at the north-west angle of Crosby Square, besides fragments elsewhere.