Chapter 11

We have seen the noble in his town house, the merchant in his fine dwelling. Let us visit the artizan and small tradesman. The earliest historian of London, Fitzstephen, tells us that the two great evils of his time were "the immoderate drinking of foolish persons and the frequent fires." In early times the houses were built of wood, roofed with straw or stubble thatch. Hence when a single house caught fire, the conflagration spread, as in the reign of Stephen, when a fire broke out at London Bridge; it spread rapidly, destroyed St. Paul's, and extended as far as St. Clement Danes. Hence in the first year of Richard I. it was enacted that the lower story of all houses in the city should be built with stone, and the roof covered with thick tiles. The tradesman or artizan had a small house with a door, and a window with a double shutter arrangement, the upper part being opened and turned outwards, forming a penthouse, and the lower a stall. Minute regulations were passed as to the height of the penthouse, which was not to be less than nine feet, so as to enable "folks on horseback to ride beneath them," and the stall was not to project more than two and a half feet. In this little house the shoemaker, founder, or tailor lived and worked; and as you passed down the narrow street, which was very narrow and very unsavoury, with an open drain running down the centre, you would see these busy townsfolk plying their trades and making a merry noise.

A very amusing sketch of the appearance of London at this period, and of the manners of the inhabitants, is given in Lydgate's _London's Lickpenny_. A poor countryman came to London to seek legal redress for certain grievances. The street thieves were very active, for as soon as he entered Westminster his hood was snatched from his head in the midst of the crowd in broad daylight. In the streets of Westminster he was encountered by Flemish merchants, strolling to and fro, like modern pedlars, vending hats and spectacles, and shouting, "What will you buy?" At Westminster Gate, at the hungry hour of mid-day, there were bread, ale, wine, ribs of beef, and tables set out for such as had wherewith to pay. He proceeded on his way by the Strand, at that time not so much a street as a public road connecting the two cities, though studded on each side by the houses of noblemen; and, having entered London, he found it resounding with the cries of peascods, strawberries, cherries, and the more costly articles of pepper, saffron, and spices, all hawked about the streets. Having cleared his way through the press, and arrived at Cheapside, he found a crowd much larger than he had as yet encountered, and shopkeepers plying before their shops or booths, offering velvet, silk, lawn, and Paris thread, and seizing him by the hand that he might turn in and buy. At London-stone were the linendrapers, equally clamorous and urgent; while the medley was heightened by itinerant vendors crying "hot sheep's feet, mackerel," and other such articles of food. Our Lickpenny now passed through Eastcheap, which Shakespeare later on associates with a rich supply of sack and fat capons, and there he found ribs of beef, pies, and pewter pots, intermingled with harping, piping, and the old street carols of Julian and Jenkin. At Cornhill, which at that time seems to have been a noted place for the receivers of stolen goods, he saw his own hood, stolen at Westminster, exposed for sale. After refreshing himself with a pint of wine, for which he paid the taverner one penny, he hastened to Billingsgate, where the watermen hailed him with their cry, "Hoo! go we hence!" and charged him twopence for pulling him across the river. Bewildered and oppressed, Master Lickpenny was delighted to pay the heavy charge, and to make his escape from the din and confusion of the great city, resolving never again to enter its portals or to have anything to do with London litigation.

Then there was the active Church life of the city. During the mediæval period, ecclesiastical, social, and secular life were so blended together that religion entered into all the customs of the people, and could not be separated therefrom. In our chapter upon the City Companies we have pointed out the strong religious basis of the Guilds. The same spirit pervaded all the functions of the city. The Lord Mayor was elected with solemn ecclesiastical functions. The holidays of the citizens were the Church festivals and saints' days. In Fitzstephen's time there were no less than one hundred and twenty-six parish churches, besides thirteen great conventual churches. The bells of the churches were continually sounding, their doors were ever open, and the market women, hucksters, artizans, 'prentices, merchants, and their families had continual resort to them for mass and prayer. Strict laws were in force to prevent men from working on saints' days and festivals, and if the wardens or searchers of a company discovered one of their trade, a carpenter, or cobbler, or shoemaker, working away in a cellar or garret, they would soon haul him up before the court of the company, where he would be fined heavily.

The life of the streets was full of animation. Now there would be ridings in the Cheap, the companies clad in gay apparel, the stands crowded with the city dames and damsels in fine array; pageants cunningly devised, besides which even Mr. Louis Parker's display at the last Lord Mayor's procession would have appeared mean and tawdry; while the conduits flowed with wine, and all was merry. Now it is Corpus Christi Day, and there is a grand procession through the streets, which stirs the anger of Master Googe, who thus wrote of what he saw:

Then doth ensue the solemne feast Of Corpus Christi Day, Who then can shewe their wicked use And fond and foolish play. The hallowed bread with worship great In silver pix they beare About the Churche or in the citie, Passing here and theare. His armes that beares the same, two of The wealthiest men do holde: And over him a canopy Of silke and clothe of golde. Christ's passion here derided is With sundry maskes and playes. Fair Ursley, with her maydens all Doth passe amid the wayes. And valiant George with speare thou killest The dreadfull dragon here, The devil's house is drawne about Wherein there doth appere A wondrous sort of damned spirites With foule and fearfull looke. Great Christopher doth wade and passe With Christ amid the brooke. Sebastian full of feathered shaftes The dint of dart doth feel, There walketh Kathren with her sworde In hand and cruel wheele. The Challis and the Singing Cake With Barbara is led, And sundrie other pageants playe In worship of this bred.... The common wayes with bowes are strawne And every streete beside, And to the walles and windows all Are boughes and braunches tide. And monkes in every place do roame, The nunnes abroad are sent, The priests and schoolmen loud do rore Some use the instrument. The straunger passing through the streete Uppon his knees doth fall, And earnestly uppon this bred As on his God, doth calle.... A number grete of armed men Here all this while do stand, To look that no disorder be Nor any filching hand. For all the church goodes out are brought Which certainly would be A bootie good, if every man Might have his libertie.

Verily Master Googe's fingers itched to carry off some of this "bootie good," but we are grateful to him for giving us such a realistic description of the processions on Corpus Christi Day.

Religious plays were also not infrequent. These the city folk dearly loved. Clerkenwell was a favourite place for their performance, and there the Worshipful Company of the Clerks of London performed some wonderful mysteries. In 1391 A.D. they were acting before the King, his Queen, and many nobles, "The Passion of our Lord and the Creation of the World," a performance which lasted three days. At Skinners' Well, the Company of the Skinners "held there certain plays yearly"; and in 1409 the Clerks performed a great play which lasted eight days, when the most part of the nobles and gentles in England were present. Originally these plays were performed in the churches, but owing to the gradually increased size of the stage, the sacred buildings were abandoned as the scenes of mediæval drama. Then the churchyards were utilised, and in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries the people liked to act their plays in the highways and public places as at Clerkenwell, which, owing to the configuration of the ground, was well adapted for the purpose.

Strange scenes of savage punishment attract the attention of the unfeeling crowd in the city streets, who jeer at the sufferers. Here is a poor man drawn upon a hurdle from the Guildhall to his own house. He is a baker who has made faulty bread, and the law states that he should be so drawn through the great streets where most people are assembled, and especially through the great streets that are most dirty (that is especially laid down in the statutes), with the faulty bread hanging from his neck. There stands the pillory, and on it, with head and hands fast, is another baker, who has been guilty of a second offence. Blood is streaming from his face, where cruel stones have hit him, and rotten eggs and filth are hurled at him during the one hour "at least" which he has to remain there.

But there were less savage amusements than the baiting of bakers. Jousts and tournaments periodically created unwonted excitement, as when, in 1389, there was a mighty contest at Smithfield. Froissart tells us that heralds were sent to every country in Europe where chivalry was honoured, to proclaim the time and place, and brave knights were invited to splinter a lance, or wield a sword, in honour of their mistresses. Knights and nobles from far and near assembled. London was thronged with warriors of every clime and language. Smithfield was surrounded with temporary chambers and pavilions, constructed for the accommodation of the King and the princes, the Queen and the maidens of her court; and when the solemnity was about to commence, sixty horses, richly accoutred, were led to the lists by squires, accompanied by heralds and minstrels; after which, sixty ladies followed on palfreys, each lady leading an armed knight by a chain of silver. The first day the games commenced with encounters of the lance, the two most skilful combatants receiving as prizes a golden crown and a rich girdle adorned with precious stones; after which, the night was spent in feasting and dancing. During five days the contest lasted, and each evening called the knights and dames to the same joyous festivities and pastimes. The 'prentices and citizens enjoyed the spectacle quite as much as the combatants, and the young men used to copy their betters and practise feats of war, riding on horseback, and using disarmed lances and shields. Battles, too, were fought on the water, when young men in boats, with lance in rest, charged a shield hung on a pole fixed in the midst of the stream. This sport provided great amusement to the spectators, who stood upon the bridge or wharf and neighbouring houses, especially when the adventurous youths failed and fell into the river. Leaping, dancing, shooting, wrestling, casting the stone, and practising their shields were the favourite amusements of the London youths, while the maidens tripped to the sound of their timbrels, and danced as long as they could well see. In winter, boars were set to fight, bulls and bears were baited, and cock-fighting was the recognised amusement of schoolboys.

When the frost covered the great fen on the north side of the city with ice, good Fitzstephen delighted to watch "the young men play upon the ice; some, striding as wide as they may, do slide swiftly; others make themselves seats of ice as great as millstones; one sits down, many hand in hand do draw him, and one slipping on a sudden, all fall together; some tie bones to their feet and under their heels, and, shoving themselves by a little picked staff, do slide as swiftly as a bird flieth in the air, or as an arrow out of a crossbow. Sometimes two run together with poles, and, hitting one another, either one or both do fall, not without hurt; some break their arms, some their legs; but youth desirous of glory in this sort exerciseth itself against the time of war." Lord Roberts and other patriots would like to see the youth of the present day, not breaking their arms and legs, but exercising themselves against the time of war. The citizens used also to delight themselves in hawks and hounds, for they had liberty of hunting in Middlesex, Hertfordshire, all Chiltron, and in Kent to the water of Cray. The game of quintain, which I need not describe, was much in vogue. Stow saw a quintain at Cornhill, where men made merry disport, and the maidens used to dance for garlands hung athwart the streets. Time would fail to tell of the May-day junketings, of the setting up of the May-pole in Cornhill before the church of St. Andrew, hence called Undershaft; of the Mayings at early dawn, the bringing in of the may, the archers, morris dancers and players, Robin Hood and Maid Marian, the horse races at Smithfield, so graphically described by Fitzstephen, and much else that tells of the joyous life of the people.

Life was not to them all joy. There was much actual misery. The dark, narrow, unsavoury, insanitary streets bred dire fevers and plagues. Thousands died from this dread malady. The homes of the artizans and craftsmen were not remarkable for comfort. They were bound down by strict regulations as regards their work. No one could dwell where he pleased, but only nigh the craftsmen of his particular trade. But, on the whole, the lot of the men of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries was by no means an unhappy one. They were very quick, easily aroused, turbulent, savage in their punishments, brutal perhaps in their sport; but they had many sterling qualities which helped to raise England to attain to her high rank among the nations of the world, and they left behind them sturdy sons and daughters who made London great and their country honoured.

THE TEMPLE

BY THE REV. HENRY GEORGE WOODS, D.D.

_Master of the Temple_

"On the 10th of February in the year from the Incarnation of our Lord 1185, this Church was consecrated in honour of the Blessed Mary by the Lord Heraclius, by the grace of God Patriarch of the Church of the Holy Resurrection, who to those yearly visiting it granted an Indulgence of sixty days off the penance enjoined upon them."

So we may render the ancient Latin inscription, formerly on the wall of the Round Church, which supplies the earliest definite date in the history of the Temple. Originally settled near the Holborn end of Chancery Lane, the Templars had apparently been in occupation of the present site (still called "the _New_ Temple" in formal documents) for some considerable time before the Round Church was consecrated. There is evidence, at any rate, that "the Old Temple" in the parish of St. Andrew's, Holborn, had been sold as a town house for the Bishops of Lincoln before 1163. We must suppose that a temporary church was used during this interval--perhaps St. Clement's, which had been granted to the Order in 1162 by Henry II. The performance of the consecration ceremony by Heraclius, Patriarch of Jerusalem, and the presence at it of Henry II. and his court, show that the headquarters of the Templars in England were felt to be of national importance. Never, indeed, since its foundation were the services of the Order more needed. The Templars in Palestine were being sorely pressed by Saladin, and Heraclius had come to England to obtain help. When absolution for the murder of Thomas à Becket was granted to Henry, he had promised to lead an army into Palestine, as well as to maintain two hundred Templars there at his own cost. This personal service he now found himself unable to perform. Fabyan (died 1513) gives a quaint version of the King's conversation with the Patriarch:

"'I may not wende oute of my lande, for myne own sonnes wyll aryse agayne me whan I were absente.' 'No wonder,' sayde the patryarke, 'for of the deuyll they come, and to the deuyll they shall go,' and so departyd from the kynge in great ire."

Two years later Jerusalem surrendered to Saladin, and Henry, after conferring with the King of France, arranged for the collection of a "Saladin tithe" to meet the cost of the new crusade.

"The poor fellow-soldiers of Jesus Christ of the Temple of Solomon"--for such was the full designation of the Templars in commemoration of the quarters assigned them within the area of the former Jewish Temple--naturally had their thoughts turned towards Jerusalem, wherever they were stationed. The design of the church which Heraclius consecrated was determined by the circular chapel which stood on the site of the Old Temple in Holborn, and the prototype of both buildings was the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem, with which English Templars must have been familiar from the earliest days of the Order. The travels of Templars and Crusaders undeniably influenced English architecture. One such influence we find in the constructive use of the pointed arch, which is said to have been introduced about 1125 from the South of France--a route which Norman Crusaders frequently followed. For many years after that date pointed and round arches were used almost indifferently in Norman work, so that the strongly pointed arches of the Round Church are not in themselves decisive of the date of the building. It is not till about 1170 that the real transition from Norman to Early English can be said to have begun. In the interior of the Round Church this movement is in full swing. The lower arcade has been inaccurately restored and must not be taken as evidence, but in the decorative band of arcading on the upper wall which frames the openings into the triforium we see how the intersection of two semi-circular arches gives the pure lancet form. The crucial point, however, is the absence of the massive Romanesque columns which invariably mark true Norman work. In their place we have columns of comparative slenderness, each consisting of four almost insulated shafts of Purbeck marble, two smaller and two larger. These columns must be among the earliest examples of their kind in England. There is a somewhat similar treatment (two shafts only, as originally designed) in the Galilee of Durham Cathedral, built a few years later, whereas in the choir of Canterbury Cathedral, which was rebuilt only a few years before 1185, the Romanesque columns are still retained, though the style of the capitals is modified.

The historical interest of the church is not confined to its architecture. The eight small half-length figures between the capitals outside the west door, though sadly defaced and only reproductions of the originals, stand in close relation to the consecration ceremony. In 1783, according to a writer in the _Gentleman's Magazine_, they were "very perfect," and were believed to represent on the north side Henry II. with three Knights Templars, and on the opposite side Queen Eleanor with Heraclius and two other ecclesiastics. This identification is in the main correct. The king and queen are farthest from the door. He is holding a sceptre, or possibly a roll containing a grant to the Order. One of the figures by his side--it is difficult to see whether they are bearded, as Knights Templars would have been--is certainly holding a roll, perhaps the royal licence for the building of the church. Others have their hands folded in prayer.

The unique and most successfully restored series of nine marble effigies on the floor of the church is also of great antiquity. Six are cross-legged, but not necessarily on that account to be regarded as Crusaders. One of them has been supposed to represent the notorious Geoffrey de Magnaville, Earl of Essex, who died excommunicate in 1144, ten years before the accession of Henry II. Three others probably represent William Marshal, Earl of Pembroke (died 1219), Protector of England during the minority of Henry III., and his two sons, William (died 1231) and Gilbert (died 1241). The figure which lies apart cannot be older than the latter half of the thirteenth century, and according to tradition is a Lord de Ros. Of the others nothing is known. It seems certain, however, that the series contains no effigy of an actual Knight of the Order, since none of the figures are represented as wearing the red cross mantle. Men of wealth and position were often admitted to the privileges of the Order without taking the vows, under the title of "Associates of the Temple." The special exemption from interdicts which the Templars enjoyed, and the sanctity of their churches as burial-places, made this associateship attractive to devout men, who willingly gave benefactions in return for it. It is one of fate's ironies that of the many Knights Templars buried in the church not a single name or monument should have been preserved _in situ_. No separate graves are now marked by the effigies, but during the 1841 restorations stone and leaden coffins containing skeletons were found below the pavement. These remains have been reburied in a vault in the middle of the church.

The outline of the Round Church was never probably a perfect circle. Excavations have been made, and some foundations have been discovered underground on the east side of the church, which seem to shew that an apse existed nearly fifty feet long. This, of course, contained the altar. Even so, however, the church must often have been inconveniently crowded, and the spaciousness of the later addition shows how much this inconvenience had been felt. The middle opening between the two churches is probably the original arch by which the apse was entered, since it does not, like the two side arches, break into the line of arcading. In passing from the earlier to the later church, we pass from Transitional Norman to a pure example of Early English style, the details of which closely remind us of Salisbury Cathedral. That cathedral, which was not finished till 1258, was begun in 1220, and the foundations of the Temple choir cannot have been laid very long after this. Matthew Paris (died 1259) tells us that "the noble church of the New Temple, of a construction worthy to be looked at," was consecrated on Ascension Day, 1240, in the presence of Henry III. and many great men of the realm. As the king looked round the new church during the consecration ceremony, it is quite conceivable that he turned over in his mind the idea of rebuilding the east end of Westminster Abbey in this same style--a design which he proceeded to put into execution five years later. The combination of the two Temple Churches into one harmonious whole is a stroke of genius on the part of the unknown architect. It might have been a failure had there been any violence of contrast. As it is, we feel that we are only moving one step forward in the evolution of church-building. The general effect of the columns and arches is much the same throughout, and the view from either church into the other pleases the eye.