CHAPTER III

_Round the Town with Chaucer and the Poets of his Time_

Having considered some of the chief conditions of life in a walled town, and the manners of the inhabitants, we can now proceed to look at old London through the eyes of the great English poets of the later mediæval period, to whom we are so much indebted for the insight they give us into the habits of a long-dead past.

That wonderful book, _Piers Plowman_, not only brings before us in the most vivid fashion the life of the fourteenth century, but opens out to us the thoughts and hopes of the leaders of men. One of the most striking passages contains a description of the interior of a beerhouse in the reign of Edward III., with the company assembled therein.[54] This is a scene common to the whole country, but London places are also frequently mentioned in _Piers Plowman_.

The author, William Langland, called 'Long Will,' probably from his tallness, was an inhabitant of London, but he has little to say in its favour. He wrote: 'I have lived long in London, but have never found charity; all whom I have seen are covetous.'[55]

Prof. Skeat says: 'One great merit of the poem is, that it chiefly exhibits London life and London opinions, which are surely of more interest to us than those of Worcestershire. He does but mention Malvern three times, and those three passages may be found within the compass of the first eight passus of Text A. But how numerous are his allusions to London! He not only speaks of it several times, but he frequently mentions the Law Courts of Westminster; he was familiar with Cornhill, East Cheap, Cock Lane in Smithfield,[56] Shoreditch, Garlickhithe, Stratford, Tyburn and Southwark, all of which he mentions in an offhand manner. He mentions no river but the Thames, which is with him simply synonymous with river; for in one passage he speaks of two men thrown into the Thames, and in another he says that rich men are wont to give presents to the rich, which is as superfluous as if one should fill a tun with water from a fresh river and then pour it into the Thames to render it wetter. To remember the London origin of a large portion of the poem is the true key to the right understanding of it.'[57]

M. Jusserand, in his interesting study of _Piers Plowman_, says of Langland: 'He tells us what he has seen and nothing else; his sole guide is the light that shines over the town where Truth is imprisoned.' He continues: 'It clears the darkness of the London lanes, where, under the pent-roof of their shops, the merchants make Gyle, disguised as an apprentice, sell their adulterated wares; it brightens the hovel in Cornhill where the poet lodges his emaciated body; it throws its rays on the scared faces of sinners for whom the hour of punishment has rung. We have here a whole gallery of portraits which stand out in an extraordinary manner.'

M. Jusserand takes a somewhat unfavourable view of Langland's character. He says that the poet 'blames those who go to London and sing for souls, yet he confesses that he does the same. He blames people of a wandering habit, yet he is a wanderer; he heaps scorn on the men who seek for invitations at the houses of the great, yet he does so; he condemns "tho that feynen here folis" (Bk. x. 38), and he assumes the appearance of a "fole"; he hates lazy people, "lorels," "lolleres," yet he lives himself as a lorel, a loller, a "spille-tyme";

'"and lovede wel fare, And no dede to do bote drynke and to slepe."' (C. vi. 8).

The satirist and the censor cannot always be consistent, and without deciding upon the character of Langland, gratitude to him causes us to forgive his inconsistencies, and makes us more inclined to agree with the high estimate of Professor Skeat, rather than with the condemnation of Mons. Jusserand.[58]

Langland was taken by the leaders of the Peasants' Rising as the great prophet of their movement, but he himself stood outside the political circle. He complained of the evils that were everywhere rampant, but he did not wish to set himself against the Government; as Dr. Skeat says: 'His Richard the Redeles is a tender and touching remonstrance to the King, Richard II.'

Thomas Hoccleve and John Gower were Londoners,--the former a clerk in the Privy Seal Office and the latter probably a city merchant.

Hoccleve is supposed to have taken his name from the village of Hockliffe, Bedfordshire, on the Roman Road, 4-1/2 miles south of Woburn, and 3-1/2 east of Leighton Buzzard. He intended at first to become a priest, but instead he entered the Privy Seal Office in 1308, when he was nineteen or twenty years of age. He complained of the drudgery of copying, and seems to have been always ready to shirk his work. Dr. Furnivall's side-notes to the autobiographical portion of the _Regement of Princes_ show what the complaints are like: 'A copier must always work mind, eye and hand together. He can't talk to other folk, or sing, but must give all his wits to his work. Workmen talk, sing, and lark. We labour in silence, stoop and stare on the sheepskin. Our copying hurts our stomachs, our backs and our eyes. Anyone who has copied for twenty years like I have suffers for it in every bit of his body. It's nearly done for me. Had I always lived in poverty, I shouldn't feel it so much now, but the change is strange. God keep me from poverty. I'd sooner die than live miserably.'

As there were many copyists employed in London, we must hope that they were not all so weary of their work as the poet was.

He lived at Chester Inn, which stood on part of the site of the present Somerset House.

'At Chestre ynne, right fast be the Stronde.'

His daily occupation took him to Westminster, where the Privy Seal Office was situated, and as the Strand was but a poor road we may suppose that he went from home to office in a boat. He went frequently to Paul's Head Tavern, in St. Paul's Churchyard, where he made love to the waitresses and others. He also belonged to a dining club, called the Temple Club, 'the court of good company.' Often after dinner, instead of going back to the office, he took his pleasure on the Thames, being flattered by the watermen, who fought amongst themselves for his patronage, and called him master, because he paid them well.

He was a good Churchman, and denounced the Lollard Rising in St. Giles's Fields in January 1414 in good set terms.

Hoccleve was not a very lively poet, and he always seems to have been in want of money. He enjoyed the early part of his life, but when he married and the pinch of poverty came upon him he was very dejected. In spite of his faults we cannot but esteem him, and feel that he has a claim on our gratitude because he was devoted to Chaucer, and was the cause of our possessing the best portrait there is of the poet. Hoccleve was near Chaucer in his last days. He could easily pass from Westminster Palace to the garden of the Chapel of St. Mary. Dr. Furnivall suggests that he was with Chaucer when the great poet died there.[59]

Dr. G. C. Macaulay, in the Introduction to his valuable and exhaustive edition of Gower's _Complete Works_, says that the poet speaks with special respect of the estate of merchants, which seems to suggest that it was as a merchant he made the money which he spent in buying his land, and this inference is supported by the manner in which he speaks of 'our city,' and by the fact that it is with members of the merchant class that he seems to be most in personal communication. Dr. Macaulay supposes Gower to have been a dealer in wool, with the natural dislike of the Londoner for foreigners. The jealousy of the Lombards which he expresses has every appearance of being a prejudice connected with rivalry in commerce. 'I see Lombards come,' he says, 'in poor attire as servants, and before a year has passed they have gained so much by deceit and conspiracy that they dress more nobly than the burgesses of our city.'[60]

John Gower at one time lived at Southwark, and in St. Saviour's Church his tomb still stands. One day, in the year 1390, when he had taken boat on the Thames, he accidentally met the King (Richard II.) in his tapestried barge. The river was the silent highway for all Londoners, also the royal road from Westminster to the Tower, and from thence to Greenwich. Brilliant scenes were to be seen on the river, which joined all parts of the town in one. Here all classes were brought together--the gentry and the working-classes--and Court pageants were constantly being enacted.

When Richard saw Gower he commanded him to come into the royal barge, and then charged him to write some new thing which he might read. The poet obeyed the command, and produced the _Confessio Amantis_, with a Prologue, in which occur these lines:--

'In our engglish, I thenke make A bok for King Richardes sake, To whom belongeth my ligeance With al myn hertes obeissance In al that evere a liege man Unto his King may doon or can, So perforth I me recomande To him which al me may comande, Preyende unto the hihe regne Which causeth every king to regne That his corone longe stoude. I thenke and have it understoude, As it bifel upon a tyde, As thing which scholde tho betyde,-- Under the toun of newe Troye, Which tok of Brut his ferst joye, In Temse whan it was flowende As I be bote cam rowende, So as fortune hir tyme sette, My liege lord par chaunce I mette; And so befel, as I cam nyh, Out of my bot, whan he me syh, He bad me come in to his barge. And whan I was with him at large, Amonges othre thinges seid He hath this charge upon me leid, And bad me doo my besynesse That to his hihe worthinesse Som newe thing I scholde boke, That he himself it mihte loke After the forme of my writynge. And thus upon his comandynge Myn herte is wel the more glad To write so as he me bad; And eek my fere as wel the lasse That non envye schal compasse Without a resonable wite To pyne and blame that I write.'

As time went on Gower lost faith in Richard. The personal reference to the King was suppressed, and instead of

'A bok for King Richardes sake,'

he wrote

'A bok for Engelondes sake.'

The original picture is of all the more interest, because Gower's verse is not usually allusive to the characteristics of London life.

John Lydgate was a countryman and monk of Bury, born at Lydgate, near Newmarket, about 1370, as he himself tells us in the _Tale of Princes_. He was not in sympathy with the doings of the city, but his _London Lickpenny_ is an invaluable record of London life in his day; in which are related the adventures of a poor Kentishman who comes to London in search of justice, but cannot find it for lack of money.

First he went to Westminster Hall, and visited successively the different courts of law--the King's Bench and the Common Pleas, and then to the Rolls, 'before the clerks of the Chancerie.'

'Within this Hall, neither rich nor yet poor Would do for me aught, although I should die. Which seeing, I got me out of the door, Where Flemings began on me for to cry, "Master, what will you copen or buy? Fine felt hats, or spectacles to read? Lay down your silver and here you may speed."'

At Westminster Gate:--

'Cooke's to me they took good intent, And proffered me bread with ale and wine, Ribs of beef, both fat and full fine, A faire cloth they gan for to sprede, But wanting money I might not then speed.'

No doubt the countryman had sufficient cause for many of his complaints, but we cannot but ask, Why should he expect to obtain things without paying for them?

He proceeds to London and hears the various cries of the streets--'Hot peascodes,' 'Strawberry ripe,' 'Cherries in the rise' (_i.e._, on the bough). Some of the tradesmen offered spice, pepper and saffron. In Cheapside he saw velvet, silk and lawn, and 'Paris thread, the fin'st in the land.' He goes by London Stone through Cannon Street, where drapers offered him much cloth. Others cried 'Hot sheep's feet,' 'Mackerel,' 'Rushes green.' In East Cheap there were ribs of beef, many a pie, and pewter pots in a heap. A taverner in Cornhill took him by the sleeve:--

'Sir,' saith he, 'will you our wine assay?'

He was now tired of his excursion, and walked to Billingsgate, where he prayed a bargeman to take him in his boat for nothing. All this is a groundless complaint; but he was also robbed at Westminster of his hood, in Cannon Street he was asked to buy a new one, and in Cornhill, among much stolen property, he saw his own hood hanging up for sale. This reminds one of the oft-repeated story of the man who, walking through Petticoat Lane, was robbed as he entered and found the object stolen from him ticketed for sale as he turned out of it. The countryman soon has enough of London and its ways, and conveys himself back into Kent, ending his account of adventures with these words:--

'Save London, and send true lawyers their meed. For whoso wants money with them shall not speed.'

The words of the poets already referred to are of the greatest value to us, and we are grateful for the vivid pictures of mediæval life they have left us, but we have in Chaucer an ideal Londoner, far beyond the others in the charm of his writing, one who loved the city in which he lived and died.

Langland was too much occupied in denouncing the evils of his time to be able to see the good. Lydgate, Hoccleve and Gower also took partial views of the life around them. It is the great genius and large-heartedness of Chaucer that enables us to see the mixed good and evil.

Thanks to the labours of many scholars[61] we seem to know Chaucer, who died five centuries ago, better than many great men who have lived nearer our own days, and, strange to say, although we take him as a representative of the Middle Ages--and he was that--he was so imbued with the modern spirit that we cannot but feel that he is at one with us in his views of the life around him. He was associated with all parts of London, so that in a walk through the town with him we can illustrate our journey from the facts known of his life and with extracts from his works.

The facts of Chaucer's life, as written in official documents which have been found by enthusiastic searchers, are largely illustrative of London history, and it is only with these special facts that we are here concerned.

Geoffrey Chaucer was the son of a citizen and vintner of the city of London, and probably born at his father's house in Thames Street, in the Vintry, at or near the foot of Dowgate Hill. The house came into Geoffrey's possession after his father's death, when he sold it. There has been much discussion as to the date of his birth. It must have been after 1328, because we know that in that year his father was a bachelor. There is much to be said in favour of the supposition that he was born about 1340.

His family must have stood well in public esteem, with good connections, as the young man was early attached to the Court, and during his lifetime he filled several offices of distinction. His grandfather, Robert le Chaucer, was one of the collectors at the Port of London of the new customs upon wine, granted by the merchants of Aquitaine.

We have no information as to Geoffrey's schooling, but doubtless the position of his father was such that he would find a place at one of the schools that were attached to the chief religious houses of London. Fitz-Stephen tells us that the three chief schools were connected with St. Paul's, St. Martin's-le-Grand, and Holy Trinity, Aldgate. Neither of these schools is far from the Vintry, and Chaucer might have gone to either of them. St. Paul's is, of course, the nearest, but if he went to this school there ought to be some tradition of the fact still existing. There is no claim, however, to Chaucer set up by the historians of the successor of the old school--the new foundation of Dean Colet.

Chaucer's early life was spent at Court and in diplomatic missions. In June 1374 he was appointed Comptroller of the Customs and Subsidy of wool skins and tanned hides in the Port of London. Attached to his office was the obligation to keep the records with his own hand and to be continuously present. In the previous May, looking out for a convenient residence, he rented Aldgate from the city authorities.

In _The Hous of Fame_ (Bk. ii.) we have a picture of the poet at Aldgate after a hard day's work, writing of love (with his head aching) in his study at night:--

'That ther no tyding cometh to thee, But of thy verray neyghèbores That dwellen almost at thy dores, Thou herest neither that ne this; For when thy labour doon al is, And hast y-maad thy rekenynges, In stede of reste and newé thynges, Thou gost hoom to thy hous anoon, And also domb as any stoon, Thou sittest at another boke, Til fully daswèd is thy looke, And lyvest thus as an herémyte, Although theyn abstinence is lyte.'

Here, at Aldgate, Professor Hales tells us he wrote most of the works of his middle period.

'It was in the old Tower of Aldgate that he made himself a supreme master of the poetic craft, and turned his mastery to immortal account in the production of so exquisite a piece as _Troilus and Cressida_, and in the designing of a work that should give yet ampler expression to his manifold gifts and graces, to his maturest thought and his highest inspiration.'[62]

In 1382 he obtained an additional comptrollership, that of the Petty Customs of the Port of London, with leave to nominate a substitute on the understanding that he was responsible for him. In February 1385 the same privilege was allowed him in regard to his old comptrollership, and soon afterwards he left the gate house of Aldgate. In October 1386 he was elected Knight of the Shire for Kent, and then political troubles caused him to lose both his comptrollerships.

Professor Hales finds that the premises were granted in October 1386 to Richard Foster, possibly identical with Richard Forrester, who was one of Chaucer's proxies when he went abroad for a time in May 1378.[63]

The date of _The Legend of Good Women_ is given as probably in the spring or summer of 1386, and as the house in which he was then living had a garden and an arbour, it could not have been the dwelling-house of Aldgate. Professor Hales believes that when the poet left the latter place he went to live at Greenwich.

'When that the sun out of the south gon weste, And that this flower gon close and go to reste For darkness of the night, for which she dredde, Home to mine house full swiftly I me spedde, To go to rest and early for to rise, To see this flower spread, as I devise; And in a little arbour that I have That benched was on turves fresh ygrave, I bad men shoulde me my couche make, For dainty of the newe summer's sake, I bad them strawen flowers on my bed.'[64]

The year 1387 has been fixed as the date of the framework of the Pilgrimage to Canterbury, starting from the Tabard, fast by the Ball in Southwark. Some of the Tales had certainly been written before this, but then it was that they were gathered together.

A very interesting note by Professor Hales, on the date of the _Canterbury Tales_, is printed in the _Athenæum_ (April 8, 1893), in which some excellent reasons are given in support of this date: 'It has been and is by some still placed as late as 1393. But the evidence for placing it so late is extremely slight, if, indeed, there is any at all that bears investigation; whereas assuredly many things point to the year 1387 or thereabouts as the year of the pilgrimage and of Chaucer's immortal description of it.'[65]

In 1389 Chaucer was Clerk of the King's Works at the Palace of Westminster, the Tower of London and various royal manors. In 1390 he was employed to repair St. George's Chapel, Windsor, and to erect scaffolds at Smithfield for Richard II. and his Queen, Anne of Bohemia, for them to view a great tournament.

He was also appointed one of the Commission for the repair of the roadways on the banks of the river between Greenwich and Woolwich. About this time a great misfortune overtook the poet. In the pursuit of his duties, with the King's money in his purse to pay the workmen, he was robbed by highwaymen twice on the same day. The first time at Westminster of £10, and the second at Hatcham, near the 'foul oak,' of £9, 3s. 8d. This was a serious loss, and he was forgiven the amount by writ dated 6th January 1391.

In this same year Chaucer lost his lucrative clerkships, and we hear no more of him from the records till 1399, when he took a lease for fifty-three years of a tenement in the garden of St. Mary's Chapel, Westminster (on the site of Henry VII.'s Chapel). Here he died ten months after, on the 25th of October 1400. Thus ended the full and busy life of the many-sided poet, who was also man of science, soldier, esquire of the King's household, envoy on several foreign missions, Comptroller of Customs and Member of Parliament.

From this catalogue of Chaucer's offices and official movements we can see that a better guide to the London of his day could not be found. We may take it for granted that he walked over the greater part of the city continually.

As a boy he was an inhabitant of the Vintry, and from here he would walk to school either in a north-easterly direction to Holy Trinity, Aldgate, or in a westerly direction to St. Paul's or St. Martin's-le-Grand. Then at about seventeen years of age he was attached to the Court, and for some years he was a frequent attendant at the palace of Westminster.

When he settled to his duties at the Custom House he went backwards and forwards to Aldgate. Sometimes he would walk up Spurriers' Lane (now Water Lane), cross Tower Street, along Fenchurch Street, up Mark (then Mart) Lane to the gate. At other times he would probably find his way to Great Tower Hill, and pass through the Tower Postern to Little Tower Hill. From here he would walk northward among the trees between the wall and town ditch on the one side, and the Nunnery of the Minoresses on the other.

In 1381, at the time of the Peasants' Revolt, Chaucer was, we may suppose, in London, but he does not allude at all fully to the reign of terror which for four days overshadowed the city. The men of Essex were outside Aldgate waiting to be let in, and when the Bridgegate was opened to the men of Kent the eastern gate was also thrown open. One would wish to have known what Chaucer was doing then. Did he look out of the window of his house and watch the threatening crowd, or had he gone to the support of the King in the Tower.

He only makes a passing allusion to the murder of the Flemings in the _Nun's Priest's Tale_:--

'Certes he Jakke Straw and his meyné, Ne maden schoutes never half so scrille, Whan that they wolden eny Fleming kille, As thilke day was maad upon the fox.' (ll. 574-577.)

Chaucer must often have wandered outside Aldgate, and after a hard day's work he would naturally stroll along the wide and pleasant Eastern Road. He introduces the Benedictine Nunnery of Stratford atte Bowe in his description of the prioress (Madam Eglentyne):--

'And Frenssh she spak ful faire and fetisly-- After the scole of Stratford atté Bowe, For Frenssh of Parys was to hire unknowe.'

And certainly he must have passed over the bridge built by Queen Matilda in the twelfth century--which gave its name to the village.

In 1389, after he had left Aldgate, and when he was probably settled at Westminster, of which palace he was clerk of the works, he was often called to the Tower (close by his old office at the Custom House), to see to the necessary repairs. Like others, Chaucer probably used the river as often as possible, for many of the streets were not very pleasant to walk along, but in carrying out his many official duties he was obliged to visit all parts of the city, and he must therefore have left few streets within the walls untraversed.

We have chiefly noted the places on the east side of London, and we can therefore now pass to the west.

The controversy that raged over the question of the respective claims of the families of Scrope and Grosvenor to a certain coat-of-arms is of high interest to the herald, but in the voluminous evidence the lover of Chaucer, and of London, scarcely expects to find a statement by the poet himself as to his being in Friday Street on a certain day, and what he saw there. The whole account of the poet's examination is of the greatest interest.

'Geffray Chaucere, Esquier, of the age of forty years and more, armed twenty-seven years, for the side of Sir Richard Lescrop, sworn and examined, being asked if the arms, azure a bend or, belong or ought to pertain to the said Sir Richard by right and heritage, said, Yes; for he saw him so armed in Fraunce [1359], before the town of Retters [qy. Réthel], and Sir Henry Lescrop armed in the same arms with a white label, and with banner; and the said Sir Richard armed in the entire arms, azure a bend or, and so during the whole expedition, until the said Geffray was taken. Being asked how he knew that the said arms belonged to the said Sir Richard, said that he had heard old knights and esquires say that they had had continual possession of the said arms; and that he had seen them displayed on banners, glass painting and vestments, and commonly called the arms of Scrope. Being asked whether he had ever heard of any interruption or challenge made by Sir

Robert Grosvenor, or his ancestors, said, No: but that he was once in Friday Street, London, and walking up the street he observed a new sign hanging out, with these arms thereon, and inquired what inn that was that had hung out these arms of Scrope? And one answered, saying: "They are not hung out, Sir, for the arms of Scrope, nor painted there for those arms; but they are painted and put there by a knight of the county of Chester, called Sir Robert Grosvenor," and that was the first time he ever heard speak of Sir Robert Grosvenor, or his ancestors, or of anyone bearing the name of Grosvenor.'[66]

Friday Street was close by old St. Paul's, the glory of the city, which was magnificent within and without. When Chaucer knew it, the fine tomb of Sir John Beauchamp (d. 1358), constable of Dover Castle, in the middle aisle of the nave, was new. This monument was the chief object in the nave, and came to be called incorrectly Duke Humphry's Tomb, and the nave from it was styled Duke Humphry's Walk. The stately tomb of John of Gaunt (d. 1399), which was later on the most prominent object in the choir, was probably not erected in Chaucer's lifetime.

The old Cathedral was full of chantries, as were the other churches of London. The number of chantry priests gave great offence, as appears in _Piers Plowman_, and the works of the other poets. The Poor Parson is described in the Prologue of the _Canterbury Tales_ as attending to his own flock, and not performing the services of the dead at other shrines:--

'He sette not his benefice to hire, And lette his sheep accombred in the mire, And ran unto London, into Seint Paules, To seken him a chaunterie for soules.'

Outside Newgate, Chaucer went up Cow Lane (now King Street) to Smithfield, the open space appropriated to tournaments, markets and shows, to prepare for the jousts to be held before the King and his Queen in 1390.

Passing from London to Westminster we come to the Mews (the site of the present National Gallery), which Chaucer had for a time under his charge. He settled in the precincts of Westminster Abbey, and there passed away. It has been erroneously stated, on the authority of Stow, that Chaucer was first buried in the cloisters. This is refuted by Caxton's distinct statement that the body was first buried in front of the Chapel of St. Benedict. In 1555 or 1556 it was removed to its present position in the tomb prepared for it by Nicholas Brigham, where it has become the central object of the world-renowned Poets' Corner.[67] The last place to be mentioned, and the one which he has chiefly immortalised, is the High Street, Southwark, called also Long Southwark. Here was the Tabard,[68] where gathered the Canterbury Pilgrims, who set out on their pilgrimage under the leadership of Harry Bailly. Bailly was a real personage, and at one time Member of Parliament for Southwark.

Of all the pictures drawn by Chaucer, the portraits of the pilgrims in the Prologue to the _Canterbury Tales_ are the most valuable for our present purpose, as showing us the men and women who were to be seen daily in the streets of London.

It is a difficult matter to appraise the relative positions of our great authors, but probably the true test of immortality is the creation of living characters. It is largely the dramatic power displayed in the Prologue to the _Canterbury Tales_ which places Chaucer by the side of Shakespeare.