As time went on Gower lost faith in Richard. The personal reference to the King was suppressed, and instead of
he wrote
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.’
At Westminster Gate:—
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:—
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:—
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:—
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.
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:—
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 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
OLD ST. PAUL’S. (From a drawing by Walter H. Godfrey, reconstructed from information obtained from leading authorities.)
OLD ST. PAUL’S.
(From a drawing by Walter H. Godfrey, reconstructed from information
obtained from leading authorities.)
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:—
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.
THE river has made London, and London has acknowledged its obligations to the Thames. It was the Silent Highway along which the chief traffic of the city passed during the Middle Ages, and, probably, the roads of London would have been better if the water carriage had not been so good. The river continued to be the Silent Highway until the nineteenth century, when it lost its high position. With the construction of the Thames Embankment the river again took its proper place as the centre of London, but it did not again become its main artery.
We have seen in the previous chapter how the poet Gower met King Richard II. near Westminster and was summoned to the royal barge.
Fitz-Stephen gives a vivid description of the sports on the Thames: ‘In the Easter holidays they play at a game resembling a naval engagement. A target is firmly fastened to the trunk of a tree which is fixed in the middle of the river, and in the prow of a boat, driven along by oars and the current, a young man, who is to strike the target with his lance; if in hitting it he break his lance, and keep his position unmoved, he gains his point, and attains his desire; but if his lance be not shivered by the blow he is tumbled into the river, and his boat passes by, driven along by its own motion. Two boats, however, are placed there, one on each side of the target, and in them a number of young men to take up the striker when he first emerges from the
VISSCHER’S VIEW OF LONDON, A.D. 1616. Section (reduced) from the Re-production by the Topographical Society of London.
VISSCHER’S VIEW OF LONDON, A.D. 1616.
Section (reduced) from the Re-production by the Topographical Society
of London.
stream.... On the bridge, and in balconies on the banks of the river, stand the spectators.’ Four centuries after this Stow describes a somewhat similar scene: ‘I have also in the summer season seen some upon the river of Thames rowed in wherries, with staves in their bands, flat at the fore end, running one against another, and for the most part, one or both overthrown, and well ducked.’
One of the most remarkable incidents in the life of the Middle Ages is connected with the history of that highly-placed lady, the unfortunate Eleanor Cobham, Duchess of Gloucester, whose enemies succeeded in condemning her to do penance in London in three open spaces on three several days. She was brought by water from Westminster, and on the 13th of November 1441 was put on shore at the Temple Bridge; on the 15th at the Old Swan; and again, on the 17th, at Queenhithe, and from these landing-places she walked to the place of penance. The Old Swan, which stood near London Bridge, just where its successor now stands, can be traced further back than the reign of Henry VI., for a tavern with the sign of the Swan is mentioned in a deed of Edward II.’s time.
The old Chronicles are full of references to what took place on the river. Thus Edward Halle has a vivid picture of how the Archbishop of York, after leaving the widow of Edward IV. in the Sanctuary at Westminster, returned home to York Place at dawn of day, ‘and when he opened his windows and looked on the Thames he might see the river full of boats of the Duke of Gloucester [Richard III.], his servants, watching that no person should go to sanctuary, nor none should pass unsearched.’
Cavendish, in his Life of Wolsey, shows us two prelates talking confidentially in the cardinal’s barge: ‘Thus this court passed from session to session, and day to day, in so much that a certain day the King sent for my lord the breaking up one day of the court to come to him into Bridewall. And to accomplish his commandment he went unto him, and being there with him in communication in his grace’s privy chamber from eleven until twelve of the clock and past at noon, my lord came out and departed from the King, and took his barge at the Black Friars, and so went to his house at Westminster. The Bishop of Carlisle, being with him in his barge, said unto him (wiping the sweat from his face), “Sir,” quoth he, “it is a very hot day.” “Yea,” quoth my lord cardinal, “if ye had been as well chafed as I have been within this hour, ye would say it were very hot.” ’
The river swarmed with watermen, and these men had their songs and choruses. A favourite song was in honour of Sir John Norman (Mayor in 1454), who first broke the rule of riding to Westminster on Mayor’s day, and ‘rowed thither by water,’ a practice which continued for many years, and might now be revived with advantage.
We can see from this how much, both of the business and pleasure of London, took place on the Thames. It reminds us vividly of the busy life on the canals of Venice.
The river was the highway of business as well of pleasure, and the intimate relations between England and Normandy after the Conquest naturally encouraged commerce between the Continent and England, and London rapidly became the centre of this trade. Ships came here from Flanders, Germany, Gascony, Italy, and also from Norway. Wharves lined the sides of the Thames, and each class of goods was landed at a wharf set apart for a special nationality.
In Henry II.’s reign London and Bristol became the chief commercial ports of the kingdom, the former trading with Germany and the central ports of the Continent, and the latter with the Scandinavian countries and with Ireland.
The Normans had special privileges, and Mr. Horace Round points out that the charter of Henry Duke of the Normans (afterwards Henry II. of England) to the citizens of Rouen, 1150-1151, confers to them their port at Dowgate, as they had held it from the days of Edward the Confessor. Mr. Round adds that this is a fact unknown to English historians.[69]
The early history of Queenhithe, for many years the chief rival to Billingsgate, is somewhat difficult to follow. In the Saxon period it appears to have belonged to one Edred, who gave the wharf his name, by which it continued to be called for some years after the Conquest. It was granted to Holy Trinity within Aldgate by William de Ypre, who received it from King Stephen. After some time it again came into the possession of the King, and John is said to have given it to his mother Eleanor, Queen of Henry II., after whom it received its name of Queenhithe. By some means not recorded the Ripa Regina came into the possession of Richard Earl of Cornwall, who in 1246 granted it to John Gisors, then Mayor, and the Commons of London to farm at an annual rent of £50. Henry III. confirmed this grant, and the custody of the hithe was thereupon committed to the Sheriffs, and half a year’s rent had been allowed, as the place appears to have fallen into decay, owing probably to the death of John de Storteford during his shrievalty. According to Stow, ‘Edward II. in the first year of his reign gave to Margaret, wife to Piers de Gavestone, forty-three pounds twelve shillings and ninepence halfpenny farthing out of the rent of London to be received of the Queen’s hithe.’
Queenhithe was the usual landing-place for wine, wool, hides, corn, firewood, fish, and all kinds of commodities. It was probably to Queenhithe that the wine fleet which brought to London the produce of the vineyards of the banks of the Moselle was bound. In the Liber Custumarum there is a full account of the yearly visit of this fleet, and the regulations as to its arrival at the New Wear, in the vicinity of Yanlade (the present Yantlet Creek), at the mouth of the Medway, which was the limit of the civic jurisdiction of the Thames. Here it was the duty of the fleet of adventurous hulks and keels ‘to arrange themselves in due order and raise their ensign; the crews being at liberty, if so inclined, to sing their kiriele or song of praise and thanksgiving, ‘according to the old law,’ until London Bridge was reached. Arrived here, and the drawbridge duly raised, they were for a certain time to lie moored off the wharf.... Here they were to remain at their moorings two ebbs and a flood; during which period the merchants were to sell no part of their cargo, it being the duty of one of the Sheriffs and the King’s Chamberlain to board each vessel in the meantime.... The two ebbs and a flood expired, and the officials having duly made their purchases or declined to do so, the wine-ship was allowed to lie alongside the wharf, the tuns of wine being disposed of under certain regulations, apparently meant as a precaution against picking and choosing, to such merchants as might present themselves as customers, those of London having the priority, and those of Winchester coming next.’[70] The boats were bound to leave London by the end of forty days.
Mr. Riley refers to the fondness of the merchants in the Middle Ages for music on board ship, and quotes from M. Michel (Recherches sur les Etoffes, etc., tome ii. p. 63) the following:—
Another passage from the Roman de Tristan, tome ii. p. 64, 1375-1378, quoted by Riley, is also very much to the point:—
‘On board his bark he goes straight to London, beneath the bridge; his merchandise he there shows, his cloths of silk smooths and opens out.’
Mr Riley gives an interesting account of the localities adjoining the northern banks of the Thames in the fourteenth century:—
‘The banks of the Thames from the Postern of Petit Wales [near the Tower], so far probably as the Friars Preachers, or Black Friars, near the entrance of the Fleet River, seem to have been intersected in these times by numberless small lanes, which, themselves public property, ran from Thames Street, by the side of a private residence or other edifice, and led to the owner’s wharf in front of his dwelling-house; these wharfs again, in some instances, being separated by water-gates, through which apparently the public had a right to claim, as an easement, right of passage. From many of the wharfs there also projected bridges or jetties into the river, for the same purposes as the stairs of modern times.’[71]
Many of the wharves on the Thames were known as gates besides Billingsgate, as Ebbgate, identical with the present Old Swan Lane and Wharf, Upper Thames Street, and Oystergate, on the site of the north end of the present London Bridge. The latter was the principal place for the sale of shell-fish, which was only to be sold ‘from the way of London Bridge towards the west, unto the corner of the wall of the Church of St. Mary Magdalene.’[72] Oystergate was also a place of great resort for the sellers of rushes, who paid a small rent for their standing.
We learn from Fitz-Stephen that ‘London formerly had walls and towers in like manner in the south, but that most excellent river the Thames, which abounds with fish, and in which the tide ebbs and flows, runs on that side, and has in a long space of time washed down, undermined and subverted the walls in that part.’ Whether there were gates or not along the river front of London, there can be little doubt that there were not structures at all the places named gates, many of these were doubtless merely ways. This use of the word gate is common enough in the South, as in Ramsgate, Margate, Sandgate, etc.
There appear to have been constant attempts made by the landowners on the Thames to close the lanes leading to the river, thus preventing the free access of the public. Special complaint was made before the Mayor and Sheriffs in 1360 against the Prior of St. John of Jerusalem for closing the right-of-way through the Temple. This place having come into the possession of the Knights Hospitallers of St. John after the suppression of the Order of Knights Templars. The evidence of John de Hydyngham and eleven others was taken—‘Who say upon their oath, that time out of mind the commonalty of the city aforesaid have been wont to have free ingress and egress with horses and carts from sunrise to sunset, for carrying and carting all manner of victuals and wares therefrom to the water of Thames, and from the said water of Thames to the city aforesaid through the great gate of the Templars, situate within Temple Bar, in the ward aforesaid, in the suburb of London; that the possessors of the Temple were wont, and by right ought to maintain a bridge at the water aforesaid’ [a pier or jetty for landing called Tempelbrigge]. ‘They say also, that the Prior of St. John of Jerusalem in England, who is the possessor of the Temple aforesaid, molests the citizens of the said city, so that they cannot have their free ingress and egress through the gate aforesaid, as of old they were wont to have.’[73]
The prior did not like this interference with his doings on the part of the city, and in 1374 he obtained from Edward III. a royal order to stay proceedings. The order, addressed to the Mayor, Recorder and Aldermen of London, after recapitulating the terms of complaint, proceeds: ‘We, deeming it not to be consonant with reason that this matter, seeing that it concerns you and the commonalty aforesaid, should be discussed before you, inasmuch as a party ought not to be judge in his own cause, and taking into consideration that if the bridge aforesaid, which has been intended for the advantage and easement of the nobles and others coming to our Parliaments and Councils, and wishing to reach their barges and boats, these should be broken by the laying of stone and timber thereon, it would be greatly to the prejudice of such persons; and desiring for the reasons aforesaid, that this matter shall be discussed and determined before our Council, where justice therein unto you as well as to the prior aforesaid may speedily be done; do command you, that you appear before our said Council at Westminster, on that day month after Easter Day next to come.’[74] This question of the exclusion of the common people from certain wharves and stairs continued for many years to be a burning one. In 1417 an Ordinance of the Mayor and Aldermen was issued forbidding this exclusion, which commences as follows: ‘Whereas heretofore, and now also from day to day, many persons dwelling in the city and the suburbs of London, more consulting and attending to their private profit and advantage than to the common good and convenience, do hold certain wharves and stairs on the bank of the Thames, which are held by encroachment upon, and are situate on, the common soil and the course of the water, without having any licence or paying anything to the community for the same; and then, the same being by favour obtained and colourably appropriated, have mixed up their own and separate soil and land therewith; and what is even worse, from day to day these persons do make new customs and imposts upon the poor common people, who time out of mind have there fetched and taken up their water, and washed their clothes, and done other things for their own needs, maliciously interfering with them in their said franchise, and demanding and taking from such as resort thereto, from some one halfpenny, and from others one penny, two or more, by the quarter, to the great injury of all the commonalty, and expressly against the good usages and ancient customs of all the city.’ After this preamble, the Mayor and Aldermen, with the assent of the Commons, ‘ordained and established, for all time to come, that no person who dwells on the bank of the Thames, or other person whatsoever, having or holding any wharf or stair, situate or encroaching upon the common soil, to which there has been, or been accustomed to be, common resort of the people heretofore for such needs as aforesaid, shall from henceforth disturb, hinder, or molest, any one in fetching, drawing and taking water, or in beating and washing their clothes, or in doing or executing other reasonable things and needs there; or shall demand or take privily or openly, from any person any manner of sum or piece of money, or other thing whatsoever for custom.’[75]
Many of these alleys and lanes were left in a very objectionable condition, but the consideration of their state must be postponed for chapter 7 on the Health and Sanitation of London. In spite of all the recorded impurities of the streets the water of the river was pure, as may be proved from the fact that fishing was general. In 1343 an Inquisition was held before the Mayor and Aldermen as to the use of unlawful nets, or those whose meshes were less than 2 inches wide, when it was found that four nets were good and were to be given back to the owners, and four were false and to be burnt. The custom of the city was that the meshes of the nets should be two inches wide at least, so that small fish could pass through.[76]
In the next year certain fishmongers were appointed inspectors ‘to make scrutiny as to false nets placed in the water of Thames, from the place called “Yenlete” [Yantlet] on the east, as far as the bridge of Stanes on the west, for taking the small fish, to the destruction of the fish of such water; and to bring such nets to the Guildhall when found.’[77]
In another document, also of the year 1344, three nets are mentioned by name, all of which were found to be false, and were burnt near the Stone Cross by the north door of St. Paul’s, in the high street of Chepe—these were a draynet belonging to the Abbot of Stratford, a second net called a codnet, belonging to Robert Pesok of Plumstede, and third net called a kidel, claimed by no one.[78]
A codnet was a net with a cod or pouch containing a stone for sinking the net (also called a pursnet), and a kidel was a net used in kidels or weirs. There were several different classes of fishermen, as ‘trinkermen,’ who used trinks or nets attached to posts or anchors for taking fish, and petermen, who used a broom in fishing, ‘beating the bush.’[79] There are many other references to the burning of false nets in the City Archives. From certain regulations of the year 1388, we learn that ‘no man shall fish in the Thames with any nets but those of the Assize ordained at the Guildhall; and that only at the proper seasons. And that no one shall fish near to the wharves in London, between the Temple Bridge and the Tower, within a distance of twenty fathoms.’[80]
The Bridge.—It is supposed that during the early years of the Roman occupation there was a ferry across from London to Southwark, but that a bridge was built when Roman London had become a place of importance. We have already seen that a wooden bridge existed during the Saxon period. This must have been constantly rebuilt, and the last wooden bridge continued for many years after the Norman Conquest. The first stone bridge was commenced in the year 1176, under the superintendence of Peter de Colechurch, chaplain of St. Mary Colechurch, a building which stood in the Old Jewry until the time of the Great Fire, when it was destroyed. Peter died in 1205, and was buried in the crypt of the chapel built over the centre pier of the bridge and dedicated to St. Thomas of Canterbury. Here the chaplain’s bones were found in 1832, when the old bridge was cleared away after the opening of the new bridge. So little public interest was taken in relics of the past at this time that the bones were sacrilegiously, flung into a barge along with the accumulated rubbish and destroyed by careless workmen.
The building of the stone bridge was a long operation, and in 1201 King John entrusted its completion to a Frenchman named Isembert. The King seems to have made a careful choice, for the Frenchman had already shown his skill by the erection of fine bridges in the French cities of Saintes and La Rochelle. M. Jusserand, in his English Wayfaring Life in the Middle Ages, quotes from the Original Patent, published by Hearne in his edition of the Liber Niger Scaccarii (1771, vol. i. p. 470). Jusserand also quotes from Hearne as to a series of Letters Patent relating to the maintenance of the bridge. John ordered certain taxes to be devoted to this purpose, and a patent of Henry III. was addressed ‘to the brothers and chaplains of the Chapel of St. Thomas on London Bridge, and to other persons living on the same bridge,’ to inform them that the officers of St. Katharine’s Hospital by the Tower would receive the revenues and take charge of the repairs of the bridge for five years.
After the Battle of Evesham in 1265, when the city was at the King’s mercy, Henry III. granted his Queen the custody of the bridge: ‘Alianore, by the grace of God, Queen of England, Lady of Ireland, Duchess of Aquitaine, and by our lord the King Henry, Warden of the Bridge House.’ The Queen continued to enjoy the rents and lands belonging to the bridge for nearly six years, during which time the repair of the bridge was neglected. Realising at length how matters stood, she restored it to the citizens, who, on 1st September 1271, elected again their own wardens.[81]
Early in the reign of Edward I. (1281) a patent was issued ordering a general collection throughout the kingdom on account of the bad condition of the bridge. A tariff of tolls was also issued, and pontage was exacted from all vessels for the passage of which the drawbridge was raised. One William Cross, a fishmonger, was ‘sworn to well and faithfully receive all issues of rents of London Bridge, and also all other money accruing to the said bridge from whatever cause ... and to expend the same well and faithfully for the use and benefit of the aforesaid bridge.’[82]
In the 26 of Edward I. the rents of a house called ‘Le Hales’ were appropriated for the support of London Bridge, and this is recorded in the Liber Custumarum.[83] It is not known where this house was situated. Riley conjectures that it was a great house in Stocks Market, but Dr. Sharpe suggests that it is just as likely to have been one of a large number of houses which Henry le Galeys (or Waleys) erected by licence of the King (Anno 10 Edw. I.) near Old Change and St. Paul’s, the profits of which were also devoted to the support of the bridge.[84] A stone was fixed before each of these tenements in token of the duty of the tenants to repair the bridge, but these appear to have been removed in the same reign by Walter Hervy, appruator of the city, a title which Riley translated as improver.[85]
The bridge was built on piles, and must have been solidly constructed, for although it needed from the first a great deal of cobbling, and underwent much alteration, it survived almost to our own day. It consisted of twenty arches, nineteen of stone, and one of wood—the drawbridge. By this drawbridge was the tower or storehouse, upon which the heads of traitors were set up. This became decayed, and was taken down in April 1577. The heads were removed and set on the gate at the Bridge-foot towards Southwark. On the 28th August Sir John Langley, Lord Mayor, laid the first stone of a foundation for a new tower, in the same
Old London Bridge from St Olave’s Church.
place, which tower was finished in September 1579.[86] The great wonder of the bridge was the beautiful wooden structure, called Nonesuch House, which stood on the seventh and eighth arches from the Southwark side, and gave its name to the Nonesuch lock.
The great weight of the buildings caused occasional sinkings and a general insecurity. In 1481 it is recorded that a block of buildings toppled over into the river. In 1633 a fire swept from one end of the bridge to the other, and many of the houses were destroyed, which were not rebuilt. In 1757-1758 all the remaining houses were cleared away in order to make the structure more secure.
The bridge was one of the chief sights of London, and a great deal of history has grown up about it, but it would require a volume to do justice to these circumstances. One of the most curious of these was the duel between Sir David Lindsay, Earl of Crawfurd, and John Lord Welles (fifth Baron), Ambassador at the Scottish Court in 1390. Lord Crawfurd chose the place, and, furnished with a safe conduct from Richard II., came from Scotland to London for this special purpose. The duel took place in this apparently inappropriate locality in the presence of a great concourse of sightseers.
Most of the travellers in England who have written on the subject speak of the bridge with high praise. Frederick Duke of Wirtemberg, who visited this country in 1592, was pleased with what he saw, and his secretary wrote: ‘Over the river at London there is a beautiful long bridge, with quite splendid, handsome and well-built houses, which are occupied by merchants of consequence. Upon one of the towers, nearly in the middle of the bridge, are stuck up about thirty-four heads of persons of distinction, who had in former times been condemned and beheaded for creating riots and from other causes.’ It will be seen from this passage that when the new tower was built the heads which had been removed during the rebuilding to the Bridge-foot were taken back to the new tower. Six years later Hentzner wrote of London Bridge as ‘a bridge of stone, 800 feet in length, of wonderful work; it is supported upon 20 piers of square stone, 60 feet high and 30 broad, joined by arches of about 20 feet diameter. The whole is covered on each side with houses, so disposed as to have the appearance of a continued street, not at all of a bridge.’ Correr, the Venetian Ambassador in 1610, states that the bridge was so narrow that it was very difficult for two coaches meeting to pass each other without danger.[87]
Englishmen were not behindhand in singing the praises of the bridge; thus Lyly wrote in Euphues and his England: ‘Among all the straunge and beautiful showes, mee thinketh there is none so notable as the bridge which crosseth the Theames, which is in manner of a continuall streete, well replenyshed with large and stately houses on both sides, and situate upon twentie arches, whereof each one is made of excellent free stone squared, everie one of them being three score foote in height, and full twentie in distaunce one from another.’
The chapel on the bridge had an endowment for two priests or chaplains, four clerks and other brethren, with certain chantries annexed. A dwelling-house was afterwards attached to the chapel, which, at the close of the thirteenth century, was known as the Bridge House. In the year 1298 John de Leuesham [Lewisham], brother of the London ‘Bridge House,’ was made bailiff of the manor of Lewisham, ‘the proceeds of which were then, as they still are, devoted to the maintenance and repair of the bridge.’[88]
In the folklore of bridges the frequent practice in the Middle Ages of building a chapel forms a special feature of the subject. There are several instances still remaining, one of which is the chapel of the old bridge at Bradford-on-Avon.
The waterway of the Thames was obstructed by the bridge, which formed a sort of lock to keep the waters in the upper portion of the river. The widest of the arches was 36 feet, and some were too narrow for the passage of boats of any kind. The resistance caused to so large a body of water on the rise and fall of the tide by the contraction of its channel produced a fall or rapid under the bridge. ‘With the flood-tide it was impossible, and with the ebb-tide dangerous to pass through or shoot the arches of the bridge.’ In the latter case prudent passengers landed above bridge, generally at the Old Swan Stairs, and walked to some wharf, generally Billingsgate.
In 1428, according to Stow, the Duke of Norfolk was like to be drowned passing from Saint Mary Overy Stairs through London Bridge. His barge was overset and thirty persons drowned. In A Chronicle of London (edited by Nicolas) we read ‘as God wolde, the duke hymself and too or iij othere gentylmen seeynge that myschief, leped upon the pyles and so were saved through helpe of them that weren above the brigge, with castyng down of ropes.’ Many such accidents were constantly occurring, so that there was probably truth in one of Ray’s Proverbs: ‘London Bridge was made for wise men to go over and fools to go under.’ That boats were frequently overturned is proved by Norden’s View of London Bridge, in which boats, bottom upwards, fill the foreground.
THE TOWER OF LONDON.
THE TOWER OF LONDON.
THE Tower of London has existed for over eight centuries, and long before the Conquest the site was occupied by a Roman fortification. It is the most time-honoured building in Great Britain, and probably the foremost building (not a ruin) in the world.
With so much in London that is new, it is a source of the deepest pride to every Londoner that there is a relic of the past of unequalled interest, on whose walls are written the chief incidents of the history of England. The name has long been a puzzle, but Mr. Horace Round has explained it, and thus thrown a fresh light upon the study of Norman military architecture.
There were two different kinds of fortified places during the mediæval period, viz., (1) the Roman ‘castrum,’ or ‘castellum,’ which survived in the fortified enclosure, and (2) the mediæval ‘motte,’ or ‘tour,’ which survived in the central keep. When the ‘tour’ coalesced with the ‘castellum,’ a name was required for the entire fortress. Sometimes the keep was added to the castle, and sometimes the castle to the keep. It was then a question which word should prevail,—‘tour’ (turris), or chastel (castellum). Generally, the word castle has prevailed, but the respective strongholds in the capitals of Normandy and England were the ‘Tour de Rouen,’ and the ‘Tower of London.’[89]
Gray alludes to the ‘towers of Julius,’ and Shakespeare’s reference to the place is equally erroneous:—