CHAPTER VIII

_The Mayor, Bailiffs, and Community_

We have seen that it was the stable and well-to-do classes which bore rule over their fellow-citizens. Men of substance, and they only, were eligible for office, and the terms "degree of a mayor," "degree of a bailiff," used in assessing fines, show that there was some strictness maintained with regard to this property qualification. And indeed it was needful that mayors, bailiffs and the like should be moneyed men, for their responsibilities were great and the turns of fortune curious, for should any source of revenue fail, they were compelled to make up the deficit, and hence were poorer men at the year's end than at the beginning. Thus when the prior refused to pay the murage tax for twenty years, the chamberlains, or treasurers, contributed the sum that was lacking from their own purses.[161] Still, on the whole, the magnates preferred to acquiesce in their election rather than pay £100, 100 marks, or £40 as a fine for refusing to fill the respective offices of mayor, sheriff or master of either guild. Once, indeed, a certain Roger a Lee declined to occupy the office of chamberlain, though he was a man well-to-do, having received £30 in money and plate with his wife, and must--so the prevailing opinion was--have "had right largely of his own," or else "John Pachet would not have married his daughter to him." When solemnly adjured to "come in and exercise the said office," Roger persisted in his refusal, nor did the imposition of a fine of £20 avail to shake his resolution.[162]

But having once accepted office, with all its emoluments, risk and toil, a citizen was forthwith raised to a platform, high above the mere "commoner," who had neither lot nor part in the rule of his city. He became one of the "men of worship," whom to insult was a dire offence;[163] and his doings must not be cavilled at, or explained to the vulgar herd. Gravity, decorum, and, above all things, secrecy[164] marked the councils wherein he took part. Seemliness of behaviour was demanded from him; a late mayor must live cleanly, the leet decreed, and not give way after warning to "avowtre, fornicacion, or usure," if he wished to rise higher as master of the Trinity guild, or continue to meet his brethren at the council board.[165]

Distinguished on great occasions by his official dress, he was surrounded by an atmosphere of form and ceremony, which no doubt had its effect on the outside world. When the mayor went to mass every morning at "seven of the clock" the sword-bearer and officers attended him. A like procession was formed on the way back, for though the underlings might go about their business during service, they were commanded to "hearken" the time of the mayor's coming out of church so as to be ready to accompany him homewards.[166] So sensible were these worthy men of the dignity of their position, that questions of precedence were ever considered of great moment. When Harry Boteler, the recorder, fell into disgrace in 1484 by magnifying his office at the mayor's expense, the council thought it a due punishment that he should yield his place to the master of the Trinity guild, who thenceforth went by the mayor's side in all municipal processions,[167] an order afterwards rescinded probably to gratify one of Boteler's successors; the mayor from that time walked alone, the master and recorder together.[168]

The labours of the town officials were greatly increased by the all-embracing character of the local legislation. The people of the Middle Ages believed devoutly in the efficacy of the law, and many matters concerning prices, wages, and the like, now known to regulate themselves according to supply and demand, were at times the subject of an infinite amount of often fruitless law-making. Nothing could check the zeal and energy of the local law-givers; no subject was too difficult for them to grapple with, none beneath their consideration. The worshipful men might reverse the whole organisation of the crafts connected with the iron industry at one leet sitting,[169] or, on the other hand, turn their attention to the local supply of halfpenny pies, or the amount of wheat put by the families of the two parishes into the holy cake, or blessed bread, distributed to the congregation. No doubt it was impossible to enforce all these regulations. All the energy of the leet, or council, and the vigilance of the town officers often failed to do away with a long-standing abuse. It was forbidden, under penalty of £10, to throw refuse into the Sherbourne; yet though "great diligence" was made to learn who the offenders were, it did not hinder the commission of the offence.[170] And although, according to the decrees of leet and council, people were compelled to be cleanly, honest and peaceable, I make no doubt that ducks[171] and swine still appeared in the streets,[172] bakers' loaves fell short of the proper weight,[173] and men of craft bore arms in the city, and wounded each other in quarrel.[174] In short, many regulations were mere paper regulations to the end of the chapter.

The mayor and his colleagues had no light work before them on taking office. Numberless details of municipal business went far to fill their days with employment. In addition to his judicial duties, a mayor examined, either in person or by deputy, a great part of the household stuff which came into the city to be sold. He must needs have some acquaintance with matters military, when a threat of invasion or civil war turned him into a captain, and the citizens under him into soldiers, such as they appeared at the half-yearly muster, each armed with such weapons as suited his degree.[175] While, in order to acquit himself with credit in the difficult and delicate relations wherein the citizens were frequently involved with the outside world of politics, a mediæval mayor must gather all the information he could upon affairs of state.

The bailiffs, with their work of court-holding, ferm-paying, and fine-collecting;[176] the chamberlains, who overlooked the common pastures, and put the murage money to its proper use;[177] the wardens, who supervised town property and made payment of sundry expenses, delivering up their accounts for the annual audit, were all deeply immersed in business. And the keeping of these accounts was no easy matter, so great a variety of items was included therein, and so frequent were the demands upon the public purse. Now the wardens would be called upon to entertain and reward the bearward of a neighbouring nobleman, or the groups of strolling players who set up their booth in the inn-yard or market-place; or, again, to contribute to the maintenance of the knights of the shire,[178] or lay down the ten pounds, which the mayor took as the "fee of the cloak";[179] now to defray the cost of a civic banquet, or that of the mayor's new fur cap, keeping in the latter case, the "olde stuffe" for the use of the town.[180] Surely much of the activity of the House of Commons under Edward III. and the House of Lancaster is in the main due to the training many of its members received at home in the local guild-hall or council-house.

A great part of the municipal business in the Middle Ages was carried on by bodies consisting of twenty-four men, a double jury, a number occurring in London as early as 1205-6,[181] in Leicester in 1225,[182] and rather later in Norwich.[183] In Coventry in the fifteenth century twenty-four late officials, frequently including the justices of the peace, brought together by some indirect process of which we have lost the secret, elected the officers for the ensuing year. The same number, and to all intents and purposes the same men, were the jurats of the leet. A council of twenty-four, chosen by the mayor and perhaps identical with the jury of the leet, examined petitions four days before the two great assemblies of this court, in order, it seems, to discuss and decide on their rejection or acceptance by the jury of the leet. Moreover, twenty-four nominees of the mayor reinforced the electoral jury of twenty-four to form the mayor's council of forty-eight.[184] In practice, however, there was no rigid adherence to these numbers; small executive or deliberative bodies frequently met, and on occasions when it was deemed necessary large "halls" or assemblies of indeterminate numbers were summoned by the mayor to testify to the popular will. This calling together of the community, a relic maybe of immemorial custom,[185] affording in its traces of ward[186] organisation evidence of a form of government older and more popular than the system employed by the town rulers in the fifteenth century, reveals a lack of any well-thought-out scheme to ensure the election of representatives. Hence it seems to have been of little avail for purposes of popular control. The members were summoned at the requisition of the mayor, and were frequently to a great extent members of the official class. Hence in the cases of which we have record they did nothing but set the seal of approval to the official policy. Thus in 1384[187] the mayor summoned four or six out of every ward to learn what the common wish was concerning the Podycroft and other common lands, which the Trinity guild kept in severalty in return for the annual ferm of £10 paid to the prior on behalf of the corporation, the assembly was in favour of the continuance of the old arrangement, though it was avowedly a most unpopular one. And no orders of leet availed to check the open discontent of the common folk, who certainly did not feel themselves in any way bound by this assembly. The guild constantly found that their fences were broken down, and their fields overrun by the people at Lammas; and in 1414[188] it was thought necessary to decree that people trespassing (_delinquentes_) in the enclosures should be arrested, and imprisoned until they had made sufficient amends "by view of the guild master and six of the guild brethren."

But the discontent of the commonalty did not abate, and once more, in 1421, the officers in high place went through the form of consulting their fellow-townsmen. A hundred and thirty-four citizens, summoned at the mayor's requisition to S. Mary's Hall, gave the lie to popular discontent a second time, and approved of the giving over of the Mirefield, the Podycroft and Stivichall Hiron to the use of the guildsmen. But the anger of the townsmen became so hot that in the following year they destroyed certain gardens at Cheylesmore, which, it appears, had been enclosed by well-known townsmen, members of the mayor's council and justices of the peace.[189]

The mayor's council of Forty-eight, one of the most important of the constitutional expedients ever devised by the ruling class at Coventry, met apparently for the first time in 1423. In the previous year, no doubt with the notion of allaying the prevailing discontent, the idea of selecting a definite number of commoners from every ward to form a council to watch over the interests of the commonweal first took shape. There had been "dissentious stirrings" concerning enclosures, and there is little doubt that at the Michaelmas leet there was some speech of giving those outside the corporation some means of checking the alleged malpractices of the municipal rulers. The mayor had been charged to call forty-eight commoners, divers out of every ward, to hear _the chamberlains' accounts_ for three years past, and to witness any _grants made under the common seal_.[190] But there is little or nothing to tell of the activity of this body of commoners.[191] On the other hand, at the first opportunity the corporation turned this idea of a council into a weapon for their own defence by providing at the election of the mayor in the following January that there should be one consisting of the staunchest supporters of the town rulers. "It was provided," the _Leet Book_ says, "that the said mayor should call and take to him the same twenty-four worthy men, that were of his election, with other twenty-four wise and discreet men, chosen to them and named by the said mayor," and that this company should "put in rule all manner of good ordinances" for the benefit of the city.[192] And the worthy men were determined that this good ordaining should be followed by prompt obedience.

"It is and hath been accustomed," says an insertion in 1484 in the records of Leet, "that whatever the foresaid forty-eight persons ordaineth and establisheth for worship of mayoralty, bailiffs and commonalty of this city, according to the law, all the whole body of this city shall be bound thereby."[193] A certain latitude was allowed to the mayor as to whom summons should be sent "when he had need of forty-eight persons," save that he was always warned to require the attendance of "sufficient" men,[194] _i.e._ of suitable rank. After 1446 we find that the presence of a quorum of twelve persons was sufficient for the transaction of business, the whole body afterwards giving their assent to the measures ordained by this smaller company.[195] And it was most probably this small working body that was the ancestor of the inner council of the mayor and aldermen, which ultimately, by the charter of James I., gained complete and unchecked control over the municipal affairs of Coventry. The rule of this council gradually became a veritable tyranny. Even the official class rebelled against its dictates. We hear of a majority, "the most part" of the council, and this includes the idea of a dissentient minority. Those who transgressed the commands of this majority, if they had never filled the sheriff's post, lost the freedom of the city; while late mayors or sheriffs lost their official rank. He shall "be exempt," the order ran[196] in the sheriff's case, "from wearing scarlet among his company in all common assemblies, feasts, and processions"; and further, to be punished with fine and imprisonment at the mayor and council's discretion; on a late mayor the same penalty was laid, with the addition that he should be "exempt from his cloke and council"; while any citizens "comforting the disobedient" were to suffer the same penalties. When we learn that this order was framed in 1516 for the correction of John Strong, late mayor and _ex officio_ member of the council, we may form some conception of the tyranny of this body, whose doings even divided the corporation against itself.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 161: _Leet Book_, 597. They were afterwards reimbursed when the suit was decided against the prior.]

[Footnote 162: _Leet Book_, 619.]

[Footnote 163: See Green, _Town Life_, ii. 256, for examples of the punishments of those who insulted officials. In Coventry two men--John Smith and John Duddesbury--for their ill-behaviour to "men of worship" were, in 1495, put under surety from session to session until their submission should content the justices of the peace (_Leet Book_, 569).]

[Footnote 164: Six of the mayor's council met every Wednesday. The sergeant kept the council-house doors so that no unauthorised person might enter (_Ib._, 516).]

[Footnote 165: _Leet Book_, 544. The mayor was to be deprived of his "cloke" (_i.e._ official rank) and council, of which body he was an _ex-officio_ member.]

[Footnote 166: _Leet Book_, 662.]

[Footnote 167: _Leet Book_, 521. The recorder was the legal adviser of the corporation.]

[Footnote 168: _Ib._, 642.]

[Footnote 169: _Ib._, 180.]

[Footnote 170: _Ib._, 455.]

[Footnote 171: _Ib._, 27.]

[Footnote 172: _Ibid._]

[Footnote 173: _Ib._, 24.]

[Footnote 174: _Leet Book_, 28.]

[Footnote 175: Green, _Town Life_, i. 127.]

[Footnote 176: The bailiffs by their oaths were compelled to pay all due ferms and fees, and to be present on court days and sessions of the peace (_Leet Book_, 224).]

[Footnote 177: See the chamberlains' accounts (_Ib._, 54-5).]

[Footnote 178: _Leet Book_, 107. Knight's fees to be paid by wardens, and not by chamberlains.]

[Footnote 179: _Ibid._]

[Footnote 180: _Leet Book_, 334. If the cap cost more than 13s. 4d., the surplus was to be paid by the mayor.]

[Footnote 181: Round, _Commune of London_, 237-8.]

[Footnote 182: Bateson, _Rec. Leic._, i. 34-5.]

[Footnote 183: Hudson, _Norwich_, xxxv.]

[Footnote 184: See below, p. 93.]

[Footnote 185: Any business touching the public weal--such as the payment of a royal debt, granting away of town property and the like--could not be transacted without the official consent of the community. Thus in 1422, when the mayor summoned sixteen of the magnates to weitness the sealing of deds relating to town property, "it was perceived by the mayor and all present that it would be more expedient ... for the mayor to summon these following and many concitizens" (_Leet Book_, 40).]

[Footnote 186: Those who were summoned for purposes of consultation came according to their wards. Thus in 1384 it was determined that the mayor should summon four or six citizens out of every ward (vico), who should testify "tam pro seipsis quam pro tota communitate ville," what the general will was concerning the enclosure of certain meadows by the Trinity guild (_Ib._, 5).]

[Footnote 187: _Leet Book_, 5.]

[Footnote 188: _Ib._, 20.]

[Footnote 189: The commons destroyed Julius (? Giles) Allesley's gardens without the Grey Friar Gate (Harl. MS. 6,388, f. 16). Giles Allesley was mayor in 1426. Attilboro, a member of the usual council of twenty-four, who took part in the election of the mayor (_Leet Book_, 22), and Southam, a justice of the peace (_Ib._, 44), had gardens which encroached on the common lands, for which they were allowed, when the survey was taken, to pay a composition (_Ib._, 50-1).]

[Footnote 190: _Leet Book_, 42. These grants were given to enable certain citizens to dispense with the ordinary regulations of leet; probably much favour and affection were shown in the granting of them.]

[Footnote 191: We cannot tell whether this council even met. In 1423 we hear that the chamberlains' accounts were audited in the presence of the mayor and "48 honest and legal men" elected by the aforesaid mayor to hear the accounts (_Ib._, 54). Query, were these the commoners, or the mayor's council of Forty-eight?]

[Footnote 192: _Leet Book_, 44.]

[Footnote 193: _Ib._, 520.]

[Footnote 194: _Ib._, 157.]

[Footnote 195: _Ib._, 228.]

[Footnote 196: _Leet Book_, 647-8.]