Mediæval London, Volume 1: Historical & Social
CHAPTER X
SPORT AND RECREATION
As regards the sports and pastimes of the City, there is cockfighting on Shrove Tuesday, with hockey. Every Friday in Lent there are tournaments with “disarmed” lances; when Easter has made the river a little less inclement there will be water sports, tilting in boats, etc.; in the summer the young men leap, dance, shoot, wrestle, cast the stone, practise their shields, play at quarter-staff, single-stick, football and bucklers; the maidens play their timbrels and dance as long as they can see. In spring boars, bulls, badgers, and even horses are baited; when the water is frozen over the young men slide and skate on bones, particularly on the marshy ground at Moorfields and behind Bankside; many of the citizens keep hawks and hounds, “for they have liberty of hunting in Middlesex, Hertfordshire, all Chiltern, and in Kent to the water of Cray.” Fitz Stephen’s description of London in the reign of Henry II. tells us this and much else; it is repeated by Stow, who says that with the exception of the tilting on horseback these sports were continued to his day. He then enumerates the sports and pastimes belonging to every successive season of the year:—
“First in the feast of Christmas, there was in the King’s house, wheresoever he was lodged, a lord of misrule or master of merry disports, and the like had ye in the house of every nobleman of honour or good worship, were he spiritual or temporal. Amongst the which the Mayor of London, and either of the sheriffs, had their several lords of misrule, ever contending, without quarrel or offence, who should make the rarest pastimes to delight the beholders. These lords beginning their rule on Allhallon Eve, continued the same till the morrow after the Feast of the Purification, commonly called Candlemas Day. In all which space there was fine and subtle disguisings, masks, and mummeries, with playing at cards for counters nails, and points, in every house, more for pastime than for gain.
Against the feast of Christmas every man’s house, as also the parish churches, were decked with holm, ivy, bays, and whatsoever the season of the year afforded to be green. The conduits and standards in the streets were likewise garnished; amongst the which I read, in the year 1444, that by tempest of thunder and lightning, on the first of February at night, Paule’s Steeple was fired, but with great labour quenched; and towards the morning of Candlemas Day at the Leadenhall in Cornhill, a standard of tree was being set up in the midst of the pavement, fast in the ground, nailed full of holm and ivy, for disport of Christmas to the people, was torn up and cast down by the malignant spirit (as was thought) and the stones of the pavement all about were cast in the streets, and into divers houses, so that the people were sore aghast of the great tempests.
In the week before Easter had ye great shows made for the fetching in of a twisted tree, or with, as they termed it, out of the woods into the King’s house; and the like into every man’s house of honour or worship.
In the month of May, namely, on May-day in the morning, every man, except impediment, would walk into the sweet meadows and green woods, there to rejoice their spirits with the beauty and savour of sweet flowers, and with the harmony of birds, praising God in their kind; and for example hereof Edward Hall hath noted, that King Henry VIII., as in the 3rd of his reign and divers other years, so namely in the 7th of his reign, on May-day in the morning, with Queen Katherine his wife, accompanied by many lords and ladies, rode a-maying from Greenwich to the high ground of Shooter’s Hill, where, as they passed by the way, they espied a company of tall yeomen, clothed all in green, with green hoods, and bows and arrows, to the number of two hundred; one being their chieftain, was called Robin Hood, who required the King and his company to stay and see his men shoot; whereunto the King granting, Robin Hood whistled, and all the two hundred archers shot off, loosing all at once; and when he whistled again they likewise shot again; their arrows whistled by craft of the head, so that the noise was strange and loud, which greatly delighted the King, Queen, and their company. Moreover, this Robin Hood desired the King and Queen, with their retinue, to enter the greenwood, where, in harbours made of boughs and decked with flowers, they were set and served plentifully with venison and wine by Robin Hood and his men, to their great contentment, and had other pageants and pastimes, as ye may read in my said author.
I find also, that in the month of May, the citizens of London of all estates, lightly in every parish, or sometimes two or three parishes joining together, had their several mayings, and did fetch in maypoles, with divers warlike shows, with good archers, morris dancers, and other devices, for pastime all the day long; and toward the evening they had stage plays and bonfires in the streets.” (Stow’s _Survey_.)
Stow mentions the Lord of Misrule, but he hardly assigns sufficient importance to this functionary. The great event of the Christmas holidays were the masques, mummings, and frolics prepared and played by the Lord of Misrule, or the Master of the Revels, not only at Court, but in every great house in the country. During his tenure of office the Lord of Misrule was treated with all the deference and state that belonged to the King. He had his Lord Keeper, Treasurer, and body-guard; his chaplains preached before him, bowing low as they entered the pulpit; his Master of Requests received petitions for him; he conferred knighthood; had his favourites, and was permitted to spend his money freely. At every one of the Inns of Court they had at Christmas a Lord of Misrule.
The Lord of Misrule in the year 1551 was one George Ferrers, who gave great satisfaction not only to the King, but also to the City. For that year his style was “Master of the King’s Pastimes.” Stow says:—
“Mr. Ferrers being lord of the merrie disportes all the twelve days, so pleasantly and wisely behaved himself, that the King had great delight in his pastimes. On Monday the 4th of January, he came by water to London, and landed at the Tower wharf, entered the Tower, and then rode through Tower street, where he was received by Serjeant Vawce, Lord of Misrule to John Mainard, one of the Sheriffs of London, and so was conducted through the City, with a great company of young lords and gentlemen, to the house of Sir Geo. Barne, Lord Mayor, where he with the chief of his company dined, and afterwards had a great banket, and at his departure the Lord Mayor gave him a standing cup with a cover of silver gilt, of the value of ten pounds, for a reward; he also set a hogshead of wine and a barrell of beer at his gate for his train that followed him; the rest of his gentlemen and servants dined at other Aldermen’s houses and with the Sheriffs, and so departed to the Tower wharfe again, and to the Court by water, to the great commendation of the Mayor and Aldermen, and highly accepted of the King and Counsaille.” (_Archæeologia_, vol. xviii.)
Some of the bills and charges for the masques and plays presented by Ferrers remain to show the kind of entertainment provided. There were, for instance, four challengers and twenty horses properly apparelled. The Lord of Misrule was attended by his heir, his other sons, his base sons, counsellors, pages of honour, gentlemen ushers, serjeants-at-arms, a provost marshal, heralds, trumpeters, and an orator, a jailer, a footman, jugglers, Irishmen, and fools. The masque was the Triumph of Mars and Venus; there were jousts and tournaments; there were mock courts of justice, with a pillory, stocks, and sham executions. The whole show was magnificently mounted, as appears from the following bill for dressing the Lord of Misrule himself:—
“For Christmas day and that week, the Lord of Misrule himself had a robe of white bawdekyn, containing nine yards at 16s. a yard, garded with a great embroidered gard of cloth of gold, wrought in knots, fourteen yards, at 13s. 4d. a yard, having a fur of red feathers, with a cape of chamblet thrum. A coat of flat silver fine with works, five yards at 50 shillings, with an embroidered gard of leaves of gold and silk coloured, containing fifteen yards at 20 shillings. A cap of maintenance of red feathers and chamblett thrum, very rich, with a plume of feathers. A pair of hosen, the breeches made of a garde of cloth of gold imbroidered in paynes, nine yards of gardind at 13s. 4d. lined with silver sarsnet, one ell at 8 shillings. A pair of buskins of white bawdekyn, one yard, at 16 shillings. A pair of pantacles of brydges [? Bruges] sattin, 3s. 4d. A girdle of yellow sarsnet, 16d. The cost £51: 17: 4.” (_Archæeologia_, vol. xviii.)
But there are other details not yet mentioned. The year’s sports very properly began with the New Year’s gifts.
“These giftes the husband gives his wife and father eke the child, And master on his men bestows the like with favour mild; And good beginning of the year they wish and wish again, According to the ancient guise of heathen people vain. Then eight days no man doth require his debts of any man, Their tables do they furnish forth with all the meat they can.”
On the day before Ascension there was the annual beating of the bounds, a custom still observed, but without the old ceremony of beating each other for the better preservation of the memory of the ancient boundaries. At Whitsuntide there was feasting with Whitsun ale. Stow has told us how May-day was kept. But he writes as an old man, coldly; the full meaning of May-day he has forgotten. Remember what it meant for the young Londoner. It fell on what is now the 12th of May, a time when, except at very rare springs, the biting east wind is over, and spring has really begun. The leaves and blossoms are out at last, after struggling against the cold winds since the middle of March; the days have lengthened; it is now light till nine o’clock, and twilight all the night through. There is no more huddling around the fire, perhaps without candles, going off to bed as soon as is possible, rising before the break of day, sitting all day long in a workshop darkened by the lowering of the shutters as well as by the dreary grey skies of winter, working with frozen fingers, living on salt meat for six months except for the fast days and the forty days of Lent, when for a change there was salted fish. Spring had come at last, and in this northern clime the City, like the gardens and the fields, sprang into new life and returned to the joy of living.
Then all went out into the fields on May-day Eve. They passed over the marshy and muddy plain of Moorfields till they came to the little village of Iseldon or Iselden, where the great forest began. There grew the whitethorn and the blackthorn, the broom and the gorse blossomed, there the wild crab was covered with a garment of pink and white, and the wild rose was all glorious to behold; the people came home bearing boughs of those sweet blossoms, singing and dancing as they went; with them marched the lusty fellow with pipe and tabor, with them ran barking and fighting, for pure joy, all the dogs of the parish. Then they set up their Maypole adorned with ribbons and garlands, and they danced around it, singing, hand in hand, right hand with left hand, and left hand with right, covered with chaplets of wild rose and wild apple blossom. As at Christmas they celebrated the close of the old year and the beginning of the new, so now they celebrated the end of the winter and the birth of the spring. They had Tom Fools, mummers, hobby horses, Robin Hood, Maid Marian, Little John; they had bonfires; and they had feasting and drinking. ’Twas the most joyous festival of all the year.
On the feast of St. Bartholomew were held athletic sports with races, archery, and wrestling. At Holyrood they went nutting in the woods; at Martinmas they feasted—I know not why. Then in the long summer days they celebrated the eves of festivals and the festivals themselves by a kind of open-house hospitality. Then burned bonfires in the streets—this was partly with a view to keep off infection; and certainly in their narrow streets it was necessary to renew the air as much as possible. Then the wealthier sort spread tables before their doors and furnished them on the vigils with bread and drink, and on the festival days with meat and drink, to which they would invite all passers-by, “praising God for His benefits bestowed upon them.” There were feasts of reconciliation and amity for those who had quarrelled. The feast of reconciliation was a ceremony observed down to the last century.
A kind of Flower Feast was held on the vigil of St. John the Baptist, and on the days of St. Peter and St. Paul the Apostles. Then every man’s door was decorated with “green birch, long fennel, St. John’s wort, orpin, white leten, and such like.” Garlands of flowers were hung up among the leaves, with small lamps of glass containing enough oil to last all through the night; there were branches of wrought iron hung out over the street thus decorated, and some houses had hundreds of lamps hung up all over them. Picture to yourself a street in Old London, narrow, with lofty gabled houses projecting in each storey, so that at the top one might almost shake hands across. Even in the soft and limpid twilight of a June evening it is generally almost dark in the streets thus deprived of the sky; but to-night it is lighter than at noontide. There are rows on rows, one row above the others of bright lamps, red and blue and green, gleaming among green branches and white flowers; there are people dancing and pledging each other, there is music—nay, not pipe and tabor only, but harp and rebeck, flute and silver bells, drum and syrinx. And of course the lads and maidens are dancing with all the spirit they possess.
Dancing was a passion with everybody. From the Queen to the milkmaid all the women danced; from the King to the craftsman all the young men danced. They danced in the streets whenever it was possible, which was one of the reasons why May-day was so joyous a festival. The more courtly people had dances dignified and stately, such as the _Danse au Virlet_, in which each performer sang a verse, and then they all danced round singing the same verse in chorus; the _Pas de Brabant_, where every man knelt to his partner; the _Danse au chapelet_, where every man kissed his partner; they danced together singing minstrels’ songs; they danced in the garden, they danced in the meadow, they went out at night to dance with tapers in their hands; they danced to beautiful music played by an orchestra. But for the humbler folk the street was the ball-room, and the pipe and tabor the music; while the dance was the simple _Hey_, or a round with capers of surprising agility, or the interlacing of hands and the dancing round a maypole.
The wrestling match filled much the same place in the civic mind as the football match of the present day. It was not a sport so much as a battle, and occasionally, as in the case of London _v._ Westminster, it caused serious riots and disturbances. The usual prize at a wrestling match was a ram, or a ram and a ring. Sometimes there were more valuable prizes, as in the old poem, “A mery Geste of Robin Hood,” quoted by Strutt,[10] in which a white bull, a courser with saddle and bridle, a pair of gloves, a gold ring, and a pipe of wine, were prizes. In Chaucer’s Prologue we read, “At wrastling he wolde have alwey the ram.” And Matthew Paris mentions a wrestling match at Westminster, A.D. 1222, at which a ram was the prize.
[10] Joseph Strutt, _Sports and Pastimes of the English People_.
Then there was the valuable right of hunting in the forest of Middlesex. The country was nearly covered with a vast forest, opened up here and there by the clearings of charcoal-burners, woodcutters, and licensed huntsmen. The forest of Middlesex extended on the east side far into Essex. It was filled with fallow deer, red deer, wild swine, and wild boar. Of vermin there were wolves still, wild cats, foxes, badgers, and the smaller creatures. The rabbit warren or the coney garth was found on every estate, partly for food and partly for the fur. Two thousand rabbits were supplied in one year for the table of a rich Norfolk squire. Hares and pheasants were bred in the coney garth. The crane, the bittern, the great bustard, together with wild ducks and smaller birds innumerable, were also found—by the marshes along the river side or in the forests. It is noted that in London even the craftsmen feasted freely on hares and rabbits.
Music was even a more favourite form of recreation than dancing. To learn the use of some instrument was part of every gentleman’s education. The details of the education of the lower class are scanty, but there is a treasury of manners and customs in Chaucer, from which it is certain that all classes learned and practised music of some kind. For instance. Of the Squire, he is said to have been singing or fluting all the day.
Of the Nun the poet says—
“Ful wel sche sange the service devyne Entuned in hire nose ful semely.”
Of the Mendicant Friar—
“And certainly he had a merry note Wel couthe he synge and playe on a rote Somwhat he lipsede for his wantonnesse, To make his Englische swete upon his Tunge. And in his harping when that he had sunge His eyghen twynkeled in his hed aright, As du the sterris in the frosty night.”
Of the Miller—
“A baggepipe well could he blowe and sowne.”
Of the Pardoner—
“Ful loude he sang ‘Come hider love to me.’”
Of the Scholar—
“And al above ther lay a gay sautrye (_psaltery_) On which he made a-nightes melody So swetely that all the chamber rang, And Angelus et Virginem he sang.”
Of the Carpenter’s wife—
“But of her song it was so loude and yerne (_brisk_) As eny swalwe chitering on a berne.”
And so on,—they could all sing and play. It was a disgrace for any not to play some kind of instrument.
A bas-relief on a capital in a Norman church of the eleventh century represents a concert in which the performers are playing on different instruments. There was the violin, the violoncello, the guitar, the harp, the syrinx or Pandora pipes, a zither, great bells and little bells, and an unintelligible instrument. The list does not include the flute, pipe, or whistle of various kinds, the bagpipe, the lute, the trumpet, the horn, the water organ, the wind organ, the cymbals, the drum, the psaltery, the three-stringed organistrum, the hurdy-gurdy, the pipe and tabor, the rebeck, and others. Of course many of them are but varieties. The instruments dear to the common people were the fiddle and the pipe and tabor, at the music of which the bear capered, the bull was baited, the prentices and maidens danced, and the tumblers performed; at the tap of the tabor, and the call of the pipe, everybody turned out to see what was going on. In every tavern there was music of a more pretentious kind; there sat the harper, there the mandoline was touched by those who sat in the place to drink; then to flute and viol the dancing girl gave her performance; then the story-teller sang his long tale to the sound of the lute in a low monotone, while the music rambled up and down, in the same way as a Welsh singer sings while the air itself rolls round and round about his words. In every church there was the organ, sometimes only a hand organ; sometimes a great and glorious organ, the thunders of which awed the trembling soul while its soft notes uplifted and cheered the worshipper. There was long opposition to the introduction of the organ; and it was not until the thirteenth century that the voice of opposition was hushed altogether; once the organ found admission the difficulty was to make it splendid enough. Winchester boasted as early as the year 951 an organ divided into parts, each with its own bellows, its own keyboard, and its own organist. At Milan Cathedral the organ pipes were made of silver; at Venice they were made of gold. The best organs of western Europe were made after the model of an organ presented by Constantine Copronymus to King Pepin.
Another form of recreation in the City life was the garden. The poetry of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries is full of the garden. In Chaucer’s Knight’s Tale Emelie goes into the garden to make a chaplet:—
“And in the garden at the sonne uppriste Sche walketh up and doun, and as hir liste, Sche gadereth floures, party white and redde, To make a sotil gerland for here hedde, And as an angel hevenly sche song.”
Every house of importance in London had its garden. Of these gardens some traces yet remain. The Drapers’ Garden until recently covered a large area, and there is still a little left; other Companies retain some portion of their old gardens; apart from the churchyards, now converted into gardens, there are still even in some crowded parts of the City one or two private gardens left. The garden afforded a safe and pleasant place of recreation for the ladies of the house. It seems as if, with the noise, the dirt, the crowds, the violence, there was no place for ladies in the streets of Mediæval London; they were escorted to and from church, and for the rest of the day there was the house or the garden “ful of leves and of floures.”
“And craft of mannes hand so curiously Arrayed had the gardeyn of such pris, As if it were the verray paradise.”
Here the ladies kept their singing birds, of which they were extremely fond.
Then, for recreation in the daily life, we have the morning mass, the several services of the Church, the work of the shop for the craftsman, the house for his wife; in summer evenings ramblings in the fields, rowing on the river, dancing in the streets, athletics of all kinds, for the young; for the men the tavern with its songs and drink; for the women, talk in the street at the house doors in the summer; in the evening, work and music and singing and talk before the fire. In addition to the festivals and the rejoicings on stated days there was the procession of the watch, the miracle play within the church or without, the Royal pageants and the City ridings. The procession of the watches has been given in _London in the Time of the Tudors_, p. 362.
What part, if any, had cards in the houses of Mediæval London? The origin of card-playing need not concern us here. Probably the theory that cards first appeared at Viterbo, whither they were brought from the East, is true; that they spread over Italy, Germany, France, and Spain is quite certain. In the year 1393 occurs the well-known and often-quoted passage in the account of the Treasurer of France, Charles Poupart. “Givin to Grinfonneur, painter, for three packs of cards, gilt and coloured, and variously ornamented, for the amusement of the King, fifty-six livres.” From this passage it has been argued that cards were invented for the solace of the mad King Charles VI. But if they were a new invention the entry would not have been made with such simplicity, and, in fact, we now know that cards had before this date been brought into France. Whatever was known or practised in France speedily crossed over to England. Yet it is remarkable that Chaucer makes no mention of card-playing. In the year 1463 it was practised. This is proved by a clause in an Act of 1463, by which the importation of cards, among other wares of foreign manufacture, was forbidden. In one of the Paston Letters, dated Dec. 24, 1484, Margery Paston tells her husband that in a certain great lady’s house there were at Christmas “no disguisings, nor harpings, nor luting, nor singing, nor none loud disputes; but playing at the tables, chess and cards.” It may therefore be assumed that card-playing was known in London during the fifteenth century; that it was not an amusement or a form of gambling belonging to the common sort, but that it belonged to the wealthier class. This is what we should expect from the cost of the early cards with their gold and their hand-painted faces and backs. Of gambling with dice a great deal is said, and it would appear the lower classes as well as the upper classes were greatly addicted to dice and games of pure chance. Every tavern had its gaming table; the keeper advanced money to those who lost: there were then as now gamesters _acharnés_ who gambled away all that they had and more. In the satirical drawings of the time they are represented as having stripped themselves of everything, including every shred of clothing. The lower classes of London have always been, and are still, incurably addicted to the pursuit of fortune, blind and incapable of favouritism. Laying on the odds and backing his fancy takes the place with the young Londoner of the old-fashioned dice.
For games we have the rhyme:—“The men and maids do merry make, at Stoolball and at Barley-break.” The games played by boys were “Hoop and hide,” “Hide and seek,” “Harry Racket,” “Fillip the toad,” “Hoos and Blind,” “Hoodwink Play,” “Loggats,” “Slide Sheriff or Shove groat.”
“To wrestle, play at stooleballe, or to runne; To pitch the Barre, or to shoote off a gun; To play at Luggats, nine holes, or Tenpinnes: To try it out at Football by the shinnes.”
Fitz Stephen says that on Shrove Tuesday the boys brought cocks to school and made them fight—the Master received from every boy a “Cockpenny.” The custom was kept up in some parts of England, I believe in the town of Lancaster, until well into the eighteenth century.
With all these aids to rest and recreation it will be seen that London was a City full of joy and cheerfulness. But there was a great deal more than this. No City on the Continent, not even Antwerp, Bruges, or Paris, surpassed London in the splendour and magnificence of her Pageants and Ridings. They were the public processions and rejoicings at coronations whether of the King or his consort, those after great victories, those when the King rode in state through London, those in which foreign sovereigns were received, and the Ridings of the Mayor and Aldermen. Let us consider what was meant by such a Pageant in the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries, the period to which this chapter belongs. They were rare events, naturally—a coronation does not happen often in one generation,—so rare were they that the principal Pageants can all be enumerated in a few lines. Thus:—
A.D. 1205 Reception of Otho, nephew to King John. 1216 ” ” Louis the Dauphin. 1236 ” ” Henry III. 1243 ” ” Beatrice, Countess of Provence. 1274 ” ” Queen Margaret. 1307 ” ” Queen Isabella. 1328 ” ” Queen Philippa. 1357 ” ” King John of France. 1363 ” ” King John of France, King David of Scotland, and the King of Cyprus. 1377 ” ” King Richard II. 1382 ” ” Queen Anne. 1392 Reconciliation of King Richard II. and the City. 1396 Coronation of Queen Isabella. 1399 ” ” Henry IV. 1399 Reception of Emmanuel, Emperor of Constantinople. 1413 Coronation of Henry V. 1415 Return of Henry V. after Agincourt. 1416 Reception of the Emperor Sigismund. 1421 Return of Henry V. and Queen Katherine. 1422 Reception of infant King Henry VI. 1432 ” ” Henry VI. 1445 ” ” Margaret of Anjou. 1461 Coronation of Edward IV. 1465 ” ” Queen Elizabeth Grey. 1483 Reception of Edward V. 1483 Coronation of Richard III.
Thus in 278 years there were twenty-seven Pageants and Receptions, an average of one in every ten years. It is certain that at every coronation there was some kind of pageant or procession, but there seems no record of those of Kings Edward II. and III. The first of which a detailed account has come down to us is the reception of Henry III. on his marriage in 1286. It is by Matthew Paris:—
“There were assembled at the King’s nuptial festivities such a host of nobles of both sexes, such numbers of religious men, such crowds of the populace, and such a variety of actors, that London, with its capacious bosom, could scarcely contain them. The whole City was ornamented with flags and banners, chaplets and hangings, candles and lamps, and with wonderful devices and extraordinary representations, and all the roads were cleansed from mud and dirt, sticks and everything offensive. The citizens, too, went out to meet the King and Queen dressed in their ornaments, and vied with each other trying the speed of their horses. On the same day when they left the City for Westminster, to perform the duties of butler to the King (which office belonged to them by right of old, at the coronation), they proceeded thither dressed in silk garments, with mantles worked in gold, and with costly changes of raiment, mounted on valuable horses, glittering with new bits and saddles, and riding in troops arranged in order. They carried with them three hundred and sixty gold and silver cups, preceded by the King’s trumpeters and with horns sounding, so that such a wonderful novelty struck all who beheld it with astonishment. The Archbishop of Canterbury, by the right especially belonging to him, performed the duty of crowning with the usual solemnities, the Bishop of London assisting him as a dean, the other bishops taking their stations according to their rank. In the same way all the abbats, at the head of whom, as was his right, was the abbat of St. Alban’s (for as the Protomartyr of England, B. Alban, was the chief of all the martyrs of England, so also was his abbat the chief of all the abbats in rank and dignity), as the authentic privilege of that church set forth. The nobles, too, performed the duties, which, by ancient right and custom, pertained to them at the coronations of kings. In like manner some of the inhabitants of certain cities discharged certain duties which belonged to them by right of their ancestors. The Earl of Chester carried the sword of St. Edward, which was called ‘Curtein,’ before the King, as a sign that he was earl of the palace, and had by right the power of restraining the King if he should commit an error. The Earl was attended by the Constable of Chester, and kept the people away with a wand when they pressed forward in a disorderly way. The Grand Marshal of England, the Earl of Pembroke, carried a wand before the King, and cleared the way before him both in the church and in the banquet-hall, and arranged the banquet and the guests at table. The wardens of the Cinque Ports carried the pall over the King, supported by four spears, but the claim to this duty was not altogether undisputed. The Earl of Leicester supplied the King with water in basins to wash before his meal; the Earl Warrenne performed the duty of King’s cupbearer, supplying the place of the Earl of Arundel, because the latter was a youth and not as yet made a belted knight. Master Michael Belet was butler _ex officio_: the Earl of Hereford performed the duties of marshal of the King’s household, and William Beauchamp held the station as almoner. The Justiciary of the Forests arranged the drinking cups on the table at the King’s right hand, although he met with some opposition, which however fell to the ground. The citizens of London passed the wine about in all directions, in costly cups, and those of Winchester superintended the cooking of the feast; the rest, according to the ancient statutes, filled their separate stations, or made their claim to do so. And in order that the nuptial festivities might not be clouded by any disputes, saving the right of any one, many things were put up with for the time which they left for decision at a more favourable opportunity. The office of Chancellor of England, and all the offices connected with the King, are ordained and assized in the Exchequer. Therefore the Chancellor, the Chamberlain, the Marshal, and the Constable, by right of their office, took their seats there, as also did the barons according to the date of their creation, in the City of London, whereby they each knew his own place. The ceremony was splendid, with the gay dresses of the clergy and knights who were present. The Abbat of Westminster sprinkled the holy water, and the Treasurer, acting the part of sub-dean, carried the paten. Why should I describe all those persons who reverently ministered in the church to God as was their duty? Why describe the abundance of meats and dishes on the table? the quantity of venison, the variety of fish, the joyous sounds of the glee-men, and the gaiety of the waiters? Whatever the world could afford to create pleasure and magnificence was there brought together from every quarter.” (Giles’s trans. pp. 8, 9.)
It must have been a wealthy city which could thus furnish for a coronation banquet three hundred and sixty wealthy citizens, who could afford to dress in silk with gold-embroidered mantles, and to ride stately horses richly caparisoned, and to carry every man a gold or silver cup, and to decorate and light up their houses with flags and banners, chaplets and hangings, candles and lamps. The magnificent dress of the citizen at all these pageants strikes one with astonishment. They welcomed Queen Margaret in 1300 to the number of 600 in a livery of red and white, each with the cognisance of his Mystery embroidered on his sleeve. They followed King Henry IV. in 1399 with a train of 6000 horse—all of London and clothed in their proper livery. When Henry V. came home after Agincourt, the Mayor and Aldermen met him clothed in “orient grained scarlet,” with 400 citizens in murrey, well mounted, with collars and chains of gold; with them went a multitude of the city clergy in sumptuous copes with rich crosses and massy censers.
The Lord Mayor’s Show began with the presentation of the Mayor elect to the King or his justiciary. The new Mayor had to ride to Westminster; of course he rode in state with the Sheriffs, Aldermen, and officers of the city. It was in 1452 that John Norman, then Mayor, is said to have changed the custom of riding by land to going by barge. For this purpose he presented the City with a beautiful barge; the Companies followed his example, and provided themselves with barges; of course it was no new thing for a wealthy citizen or a nobleman to have his barge; the Thames was always, until quite recent times, the chief highway of the City—witness the line of palaces which lay along its north bank from Baynard’s Castle to the King’s House of Westminster. The innovation of Norman was to present the City with its barge of state: there is reason to believe that before his time some of the journeys to Westminster had been made by water. Some notes of the cost of such a procession have been preserved. For instance, in the year 1401, on the Riding of John Walcote, Mayor, there is the following entry in the books of the Grocers’ Company:—
Itm. Meres Averes paie po le chevache du £ _s_ _d_ John Walcote mayr, po vi mynstrelles po. lo. sabire XL Itm. po. lo. cheprous and po. lo. pessure VIIj It. po. lo. dyner & po vyn po. le chaucer XXI Itm. po. un cluvue po. le bidge IIIj
The wealth and state of the City itself were confided to the care of the Mayor and Aldermen, who lost no opportunity, whether by a Riding, or a Pageant, or a Feast, of exhibiting the wealth of the City by the liveries and splendour of dress worn by the citizens. Thus, Stow gives some particulars on the subject, which help to show us the real wealth of the citizens:—
“1236. The 20th of Henry III., the Mayor, Aldermen, Sheriffs, and citizens of London, rode out to meet the King and his new wife Queen Eleanor, daughter to Reymond Beringarius of Aragon, Earl of Provence and Narbone. The citizens were clothed in long garments, embroidered about with gold, and silk in divers colours, their horses finely trapped, to the number of three hundred and sixty, every man bearing a gold or silver cup in his hand, the King’s trumpets before them sounding, etc. as ye may read in my Annales.
1300. The 29th of Edward I., the said King took to wife Margaret, sister to Philip le Beau, King of France: they were married at Canterbury. The Queen was conveyed to London, against whom the citizens to the number of six hundred rode in one livery of white and red, with the cognisances of their mysteries embroidered upon their sleeves; they received her four miles out of London, and so conveyed her to Westminster.
1415. The 3rd of Henry V., the said King arriving at Dover, the Mayor of London, with the Aldermen and craftsmen riding in red, with hoods red and white, met with the King on the Black hith, coming from Eltham with his prisoners out of France.
1432. The 10th of Henry VI., he being crowned in France, returning into England, came to Eltham towards London, and the Mayor of London, John Welles, the Aldermen, with the commonality, rode against him on horseback, the Mayor in crimson velvet, a great velvet hat furred, a girdle of gold about his middle, and a bawdrike of gold about his neck trilling down behind him, his three henxeme, on three great coursers following him, in one suit of red, all spangled in silver, then the Aldermen in gowns of scarlet, with sanguine hoods, and all the commonality of the city clothed in white gowns and scarlet hoods, with divers cognisances embroidered on their sleeves, etc.
1485. The 1st of Henry VII., the Mayor, Aldermen, Sheriffs, and commonality, all clothed in violet (as in a mourning colour), met the King at Shireditch, and conveyed him to Bowles Church, where he offered his banners.
Thus much for liveries of citizens in ancient times, both in triumphs and otherwise, may suffice, whereby, may be observed, that the coverture of men’s heads was then hoods, for neither cap nor hat is spoken of, except that John Welles, Mayor of London, to wear a hat in time of triumph, but differing from the hats lately taken in use, and now commonly worn for noblemen’s liveries. I read that Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, in the reign of Edward II., gave at Christmas in liveries, to such as served him, a hundred and fifty-nine broadcloths, allowing to every garment furs to fur their hoods: more near our time, thereby remaineth the counterfeits and pictures of Aldermen and others that lived in the reigns of Henry VI. and Edward IV., namely, Alderman Darby, dwelling in Fenchurch Street, over against the parish church of St. Diones, left his picture, as of an Alderman, in a gown of scarlet on his back, a hood on his head, etc. as is in that house (and elsewhere) to be seen. For a further monument of those late times, men may behold the glass windows of the Mayor’s Court in the Guildhall above the stairs; the Mayor is there pictured sitting in habit, party-coloured, and a hood on his head, his sword-bearer before him with a hat or cap of maintenance; the common clerk and other officers bareheaded, their hoods on their shoulders: and therefore, I take it, that the use of square bonnets worn by noblemen, gentlemen, citizens, and others, took beginning in the realm by Henry VII., and in his time, and of further antiquity, I can see no counterfeit or other proof of use. Henry VIII. (towards his latter reign) wore a flat round cap of scarlet or of velvet, with a bruch or jewel and a feather: divers gentlemen, courtiers, and others did the like. The youthful citizens also took them to the new fashion of flat caps knitted of woollen yarn black, but so light that they were obliged to tie them under their chins, for else the wind would be master over them. The use of these flat round caps so far increased (being of less price than the French bonnet) that in short time the young Aldermen took the wearing of them: Sir John White wore it in his Mayoralty, and was the first that left example to his followers; but now the Spanish felt, or the like counterfeit, is most commonly, of all men both spiritual and temporal, taken to use, so that the French bonnet or square cap, and also the round cap, have for the most part given place to the Spanish felt; but yet in London amongst the graver sort (I mean the liveries of companies) remaineth a memory of the hoods of old time worn by their predecessors; these hoods were worn, the roundlets upon their heads, the skirts to hang behind in their necks to keep them warm, the tippet to lie on their shoulder, or to wind about their necks; these hoods were of old time made in colours according to their gowns, which were of two colours, as red and blue, or red and purple, murrey, or as it pleased their masters and wardens to appoint to the companies: but now of late time they have used their gowns to be all of one colour, and those of the saddest, but their hoods being made the one half of the same cloth their gowns be of, the other half remaineth red as of old time.”
The age was, above all, martial, therefore battle real or battle mimic was the sport which mostly moved the people. The tournament was nominally a mimic battle, yet it so closely resembled a real battle, and so often ended in wounds or death, that it was sometimes difficult to distinguish between a tournament and a duel. At the Tilt Yard at Whitehall, in Tothill Fields, at Smithfield and in Cheapside, tournaments were held. Among the most famous tournaments were the following:—
That of 1329 in Cheapside when the scaffolding erected for the Queen and her ladies fell, fortunately without injury to the Queen.
Those of 1357, 1362, and 1374. The last was especially splendid: it was held in honour of Alice Perrers, the “Lady of the Sun,” and continued for seven days.
The magnificent tournament, held by Richard II. in 1390, which was also continued for several days, and was attended by sixty combatants. The famous encounter of Scottish with English knights in 1393. That of French and English knights at Smithfield in 1409. The challenge of a knight of Aragon who was defeated by Robert Carey. The challenge, 1442, of another knight of Aragon, Sir Philip le Beaufe, who was defeated by John Ansley.
The challenge, 1467, of the Bastard of Burgundy. These challenges were more than joustings; they were duels to the death. The Burgundian knight challenged Lord Scales, brother of the Queen. They fought for three days. On the first they fought on foot without result. On the second they fought on horseback, when the Burgundian’s horse fell with him. On the third they fought with poleaxes until the point of Lord Scales’ axe entered his antagonist’s helmet, so that he could have thrown him to the ground and killed him. But the King threw down his warder and discontinued the combat. In 1501 there was a tournament in the Tower. In 1540 there was a five days’ tournament at Westminster. In 1571, 1581, and 1599, there were tournaments, but not on the same scale as formerly.
In 1610 the last tournament was held in the Tilt Yard, Westminster, in honour of Henry, Prince of Wales.