CHAPTER III

THE CALENDAR OF THE YEAR

The influence of the Church on the daily life of London may be illustrated by a brief Calendar of the Ecclesiastical Year and of the observances of the people. It is needless to remind ourselves that these observances included an immense collection of old traditions, ancient pagan customs, and superstitions grafted on the association of these days with Church history and doctrine. (See Appendix VI.) The year began with the holy season of Advent, when the Wednesdays and Fridays were days of that complete Fasting which allowed of one meal only in the day, and that without meat. On Christmas Eve, and also on St. Agnes’ Eve, girls practised certain divinations to see what husbands they would get. Thus, they wrote the names of men on onions and laid them by the fire: the part to sprout or burst was that which contained the name of the coming lover; and since it was important to know what kind of husband he would be, the maiden went to the woodstack and pulled out a stick: if it were a straight and even stick, with no knots, he would be a kind and gentle husband; if it were crooked or knotty, resignation must be cultivated. At Christmas there were mummings and feasts and merrymakings; the rooms were decked with holly and all kinds of green branches; there were pageants, masques, and moralities. In the church was acted the Nativity, with the angels and the shepherds and the Child in the cradle; in some places children danced before the altar. On the day of St. Stephen horses were made to gallop about, and were bled to keep them well throughout the year. On the day of St. John the people bought of the priests manchets made with hallowed wine as a preventive against storms. At Childermasse—28th December,—Innocents’ Day, they whipped the children so that they might remember the slaughter of the Innocents. Then came the New Year:—

“Then giftes the husband gives his wife and father eke the child And master on his men bestows the like with favor milde: And good beginning of the year they wish and wish again, According to the ancient guise of heathen people vaine: Then eight days no man doth require his dettes of any man Their tables do they furnish out with all the meat they can.”

The month of January was a time of great revelry, simply because the short day brought work to a close between four and five, and left a long evening.

“In January men do play In cards and dice their time away; Now men and maids do merry make At stoolball and at barley break.”

On Twelfth Day they chose a king by lottery of the Cake: the king was lifted up on the hands of the others while he traced the sign of the Cross upon every rafter in the roof. This blessed sign kept off Devils. Another singular custom on this day was that the master of the house at eventide set down a loaf of bread on the hearth, and strewed frankincense on a pan of coals. He then, followed by the whole of his household, inhaled the fumes. This was to keep them all during the year to come from toothache, earache, or any malady of the eyes and nose. When all had thus fortified themselves, they took up the loaf and the pan of coals and bore them round the house. In so simple a way were they enabled to insure themselves against want of food and the power of witches. On Candlemas Day, 2nd February, every one offered a taper. These tapers were sovereign for keeping off ghosts, lightning, storm, and tempest. On the day of St. Blasius, they procured, at great cost, water made holy by being passed through one of the Saint’s bones. Barrels of this water were sold. Valentine’s Day they observed with zeal; says John Lydgate:—

“Seynte Valentyn, of custom yeere by yeere Men have an usance in this regioun, To loke and serche Cupid’s Kalendere, And chose theyr choyse by grete affectioun: Such as ben prike with Cupid’s nocioun, Takyng theyr choyse as theyre sort doth falle: But I love oone which excellith alle.”

Shrove Tuesday brought a very madness of revelry: the people dressed up like wild beasts and ran about the streets; they danced; they made shows; they feasted and drank. The street processions did not end with Shrove Tuesday, they were carried over to Ash Wednesday, when every one paraded the streets carrying a herring on a pole and singing doggerel. And the approach of spring was celebrated by the following rough sport, evidently an ancient custom:—

“In some place all the youthful flocke with minstrels doe repaire, And out of every house they pluck the girles and maidens faire; And them to plough they straitway put, with whip one doth them hit: Another holds the plough in hand: the Minstrel here doth sit Amid the same and drunken songs with gaping mouth he sings Whom foloweth one that sows out sande, or ashes fondly flings. When thus they through the streets have plaied, the man that gardeth all Doth drive both plough and maidens through some pond or river small: And dabbled all with dirt, and wringing wet as they may bee To supper calls and after that to dancing lustilee.”

Then fell upon the City a time of great sadness. In the churches the images were covered up with painted cloths, on which was declared, one knows not how, the “Wrath and furie great of God”; the butchers’ stalls were closed; the shambles were innocent of blood; the cooks’ shops furnished nothing but fish; and devout people, and men and women of religion, took but one meal in the day. On Palm Sunday there was the Procession of the Entry into Jerusalem; after the Procession and Mass the boys led the Ass about the parish begging for money and eggs.

For three days before Easter in this City of multitudinous bells—bells of monasteries, bells of colleges, bells of hospitals, bells of churches—there was a stillness profound. No bells were rung at all. The sexton climbed the tower or the steeple and called to mass with a wooden clapper. The boys ran about the streets with wooden clappers calling the people to church. It is even said that during the solemn darkness of the Tenebrose, the ’prentices carried on a free fight. And during this week the curious custom was observed of bringing into every great man’s house a twisted tree. At Easter Eve all fires were put out and renewed from flint and steel. The water for baptism was hallowed with a procession of crosses, tapers, and banners. It was lucky to carry some banner. On Easter Day the Resurrection was represented in many churches. On this day, also, people ate radishes to keep off agues. On one of the three days before the Ascension the parish bounds were beaten by the parish beadles and a pack of boys. On Ascension Day it was the custom to eat birds, for their upward flight was held to be a symbol of the Ascension. At church the image of our Lord was literally pulled up to the roof with ropes, while an image of Satan was thrown down and broken to pieces.

On Whit Sunday white pigeons and doves were set free in the church. On Corpus Christi Day, the Host was carried about in a procession followed by representations of the Saints.

“Fayre Ursley with her maidens all, doth passe amid the wayes: And valiant George with speare that killed the dreadful dragon here: The Devil’s house is drawn about where in there doth appere A wondrous sorte of damned sprites, with foule and fearful looke: Great Christopher doth wade and pass with Christ around the brooke: Sebastian full of feathered shafts the dint of dart doth feel: Then walketh Kathren with hir sworde in hande and cruel wheele: The Challis and the Singing Cake with Barbara is led, And sundrie other Pageants playde in worship of their bred.

Saint John before the Bred doth go, and poynting towards him, Doth show the same to be the Lambe that takes away our sinne: On whom two cladde in Angels’ shape to sundrie flowers fling A number great of salving belles with pleasant sound doe ring.”

On the Feast of John the Baptist bonfires were lighted and the young people danced in the street, a survival of the midsummer rejoicings. Every house on this evening was decorated with leaves and branches, green birch, fennel, white lilies, St. John’s wort and garlands, with variegated lamps, which were hung up everywhere. There were miracle plays enacted in the summer on carts and wheeled machines. At Martinmas, 11th November, the beginning of winter, roast goose was eaten, and boys went about singing:

“It is the Day of Martilmass Cuppes of ale should freely passe: What though winter has begun To push down the shining sun? To our fire we can betake, And sit beside the crackling brake, Never heeding winter’s face On the day of Martilmass.”

The religious functions of the Lord Mayor and Corporation were many, and were considered inseparable from the office. I have elsewhere called attention to the point that it is futile to ask whether any mediæval Foundation, Corporation, or Institution was religious in character, because at that time nothing could be considered which was not based upon, or supported by, religion.

The following are some of the religious duties imposed upon the Mayor. On the morrow of SS. Simon and Jude the Mayor, newly elected, took the oaths at the Exchequer in the morning. He then dined, and after dinner he proceeded to the Church of St. Thomas of Acon, where prayers were said. Thence he went in procession to St. Paul’s, where, kneeling in the nave, he prayed for the soul of Bishop William, who saved the liberties of the City at the Norman Conquest. After this he went out into the churchyard, where he prayed for the souls of the Martyr’s parents buried there. This done, he returned to the Church of St. Thomas of Acon, where he and the Aldermen made an offering. This conclusion of the afternoon’s ceremonies was conducted, if it was already dark, by torchlight.

On the Day of All Saints the Mayor with his household, the Aldermen with their households, and the substantial citizens, all marched together to St. Paul’s and heard vespers.

On Christmas Day they again went to St. Paul’s to hear vespers and compline, the Mayor sitting on the right hand of the Dean.

On Whit Monday the Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs met in the Church of St. Peter, Cornhill: they were met by the clergy of the City churches, and, a procession being formed in which the clergy led the way, they walked through Chepe to St. Paul’s. Entering by the north side they were met by the officials of the Cathedral, and escorted through the transepts to the south side, where they went out, and walking through “the Close of Watling Street,” _i.e._ the south part of St. Paul’s Precinct, they entered at the great door of the west. In the nave they heard the hymn, “Veni Creator,” while a winged angel in white robes censed the people from the roof. This done, the Mayor advanced to the Altar and laid his offering upon it. It will be observed that he represented the City, and prayed for the guidance of the Holy Spirit not for himself but for the whole City.

On Whit Tuesday the same ceremony was observed. But the procession was formed at the Church of St. Michael le Querne, outside the Precinct of Paul’s, and was joined by the common folk of Middlesex. The same ceremony was performed in the Cathedral. On Whit Wednesday the same ceremony was performed for the third time, but with the common folk of Essex. The Mayor on these two days represented, therefore, the people of two counties.

There were many other occasions in the year when the Mayor went in state to certain City churches.

On occasions of rejoicings there were also special visits. Thus, on the news of the birth of Edward the Third the Mayor and Aldermen repaired immediately to the Cathedral, where the Bishop sang mass, and after mass, to the sound of trumpets, the Mayor and Aldermen “led the Carol” (“menerent la Karole”). A few days after a great pageant was celebrated in the City.

Mention is made above of one or two charms against certain diseases. It must not be forgotten that for every disease there was a saint who could ward it off. It was part of the wise woman’s lore to know all these saints and to invoke their aid when she applied her herbs. Here is a list:—St. Appolus preserved the teeth, St. Otilia the eyes, St. Vitus the brain, St. Laurence the back and shoulders, St. Valentine prevented the falling sickness, St. Erasmus saved from colic, St. Blasius from quinsy, St. Peruel from ague, St. John from prison (a very dreadful disease), St. Mark from sudden death, St. Suran from infamy, St. Wolfgang from gout, St. Agatha from fire, St. Christopher from ghosts, St. Anne from wealth—why was not she the patron saint of this merchant city? St. Wendlin kept the cattle, St. Antony the hogs, St. Gertrude drove off mice and rats, St. Magnus grasshoppers, St. Nicolas protected mariners, St. Indocus the crops, St. George looked after the horsemen, St. Luke the painters, St. Cosmus the physicians, St. Leonard the prisoners, St. Botolph the travellers, while all these functions and many others were ascribed to the Virgin Mary, in whom was centred all the love and faith and veneration and hope possible among millions of ignorant women governed by their affections and passions.

They were great believers in charms in those days: in the peril of child-birth the women purified the chamber to keep off evil spirits; the men went to sea, on a journey, to battle, with charms hung round their necks to keep them safe. These charms were sometimes a verse of the Gospel enclosed in a silver box hung about the neck with a silver chain: or words meaning nothing, or crosses drawn with blood or painted; the men had their swords charmed or blessed; they had their horses charmed. Again, the people were great believers in astrology, necromancy, and the influence of the moon. Before undertaking anything the position of the moon was first consulted. Unless this was favourable they would not only abstain from beginning any enterprise of importance, but they would not bathe, or cut their hair, or pare their nails, or even take medicine. Some of these superstitions we know still linger, but they exercise no real influence. Lucky and unlucky days are all forgotten: omens are very feeble things, we have practically outgrown them. But we must realise that in the London of the fourteenth century the whole population were under the governance of superstitions; I am not speaking of their religion, but of the superstitious beliefs that are outside religious dogma and religious observance. The time seems to those who look into it full of activity, full of joyousness, full of brightness. All these things, undoubtedly, do belong to Plantagenet London. Wealth, good work, good wages, splendid dress, good food, good wine, good ale, and outdoor life—yet, withal, an ever-present dread of the unknown, of the immediate future, of what chance, luck, fate or the anger of a saint might bring. It was, in a word, the life which seizes with avidity on the present, and enjoys what the gods provide from day to day.