The long continuance of these factions, the civil wars, the disorders of the last reign, could not fail to produce the worst effects in the condition of the City. The streets were full of murders, robberies, house-breaking, and violence of all kinds. The first attempt to restore order seems to have been the recognition that a strong and permanent hand was wanted. Accordingly, we find the office of Mayor filled for twelve years by two men taking the post each for two or three years together. They were merchants of the aristocratic party; they were personal friends holding the same views, and those not of a democratic kind; they were wealthy; they bestowed large benefactions upon the City; they were trusted by the King. Yet they did not succeed. Loftie is of opinion that they were too much occupied with their own affairs, and were compelled to leave much of their proper work to subordinates. On the other hand, they may have been very great merchants, yet not good administrators. The earlier pages of Riley’s Memorials are filled with cases of murder and violence. There were excellent laws made for the preservation of peace. Nothing could have been better than the following:—

(1) Every trade to present the names of persons practising that trade, where they dwell and in what ward. This ordinance proves that all the trades had their guilds or unions.

(2) The Aldermen to inquire as to lodgers in hostelries.

(3) To provide security for suspected persons.

(4) Two serjeants to stand at each gate to watch persons entering or leaving the City.

(5) Curfew to be rung in every parish church, taking the time from St. Martin-le-Grand.

At Curfew all the gates to be closed; the taverns to be shut; no persons to walk about the streets; six persons to watch in every ward.

(6) No one to cross the river at night.

(7) The serjeants of Billingsgate and Queen Hythe to guard the river, each with his boat and crew of four men.

Yet, in spite of these regulations, the condition of the City became worse instead of better. The case of Lawrence Duket in 1284, which ended in the hanging of seven men of good family, and the burning of one woman, caused general discontent and murmuring. Finally, Edward resolved upon taking the conduct of the City into his own hands. The way in which this was effected shows that the comedy was agreed upon beforehand, so that everybody’s dignity should be respected.

The Mayor was Gregory de Rokesley. He was ordered by the King’s Lieutenant to repair with the Aldermen and Sheriffs to the Tower, there to answer certain questions concerning the condition of the City. He obeyed, but left behind him in the Church of Allhallows Barking, the gowns and chains of office, excusing himself on the ground that the citizens only pleaded or answered pleas within their own boundaries. He was arrested and kept in the Tower, with the other officers, for a day or two. Meantime, as the City was technically without a Mayor, the King used the fact as a pretext for taking it into his own hands. He did so, appointing Sir Ralph Sandwich as Custos or Warden. The City was kept under the rule of Sandwich and his successor, Sir John Breton, for twelve years. They were, in fact, permanent Mayors, who could not be displaced by the citizens, yet who took the Aldermen into counsel. The rule of these two Wardens was remarkable for many reforms, including the definition of the wards, the cleansing of the Walbrook, the suppression of night fairs, the repair of bridges, the restoration of order. Trade was carried on freely and prosperously, the trade guilds had leisure to consolidate themselves, so that they became, long before they got their Charters, necessary for the business of the City; London had assumed a new face when, in 1298, Edward gave back the Mayor, and Henry Waleys once more assumed office. Not that violence altogether ceased, but that violence was less frequent and more likely to be punished.

We have seen how the opinions of Lollardy were wide-spread among the people during the fourteenth century. The history of John of Northampton and that of his rival, Nicholas Brembre, belong to the close of that century, and to the conclusion of the struggle between the employers and the craftsmen.

John was born at Northampton of respectable parentage, as is proved by the fact that he was received into the Drapers’ Company, always one of the most exclusive of the City Guilds; he was Alderman in 1376, Sheriff in 1377, one of the City members in 1378; in 1380 he was a Commissioner for the erection of some kind of tower; and in 1381 he was Mayor. The first thing he did as Mayor showed what his opinions were. He took into his own hands a great part of the duties belonging to the Bishop’s Court. He caused all those persons, men and women, who had committed acts of unchastity to have their hair cut short, and then to be carried in public through the City, preceded by trumpets and drums, for an open shame, the men being placed in pillory, the women in thewe. A second offence demanded a similar punishment. For a third offence they were expelled the City altogether. Next, he cut down the fees of the parish clergy. A mass for the dead was to be charged no more than a farthing; a baptism not more than forty pence; marriage not more than half a mark. Multiply these figures by twenty, at least, to represent modern values: we have then, a mass sung for five pence; a baptism for £3: 4: 8; and a marriage for very nearly seven pounds. Does the cheapness of the mass indicate an unbelief in its efficacy? He also signalised his Mayoralty by a persecution of the fishmongers, whose monopoly he suppressed. Their offence, one supposes, was the high price at which they retailed their fish. We must again remind ourselves that quite one-fourth of the year was a time of fasting, so that it was most important that fish should be cheap, abundant, and fresh. John not only took away these privileges from the fishmongers, but he degraded them. They were forbidden to sell fish in the country at all; they were forced to sell it in town at a price fixed by the Mayor; and they were not to be eligible for any office. John was re-elected Mayor in the following year, 1382-83, which passed quietly. His successor, 1383-84, was his enemy, Nicholas Brembre, by whom all the reforms of John were swept away. In January 1384, John was bound over to keep the peace in the sum of £5000; in the following month he was arrested by the Mayor. It was said that he went about followed by four hundred of his adherents; it was also said that he created a tumult. One of his men, Constantyn, a cordwainer, was hanged for his share in a riot, and John was sent to Corfe Castle. Thence he was brought to London, tried before a Council called by the King at Reading, and sentenced to death by the King. The sentence was commuted, at the Queen’s personal request, to imprisonment. So he was sent back to Corfe Castle. Then, for some unknown reason, he was brought to the Tower, and again informed that he was to be hanged, drawn, and quartered; and again reprieved. He was then sent to Tintagel Castle, reflecting, no doubt, that while there is life there is hope, and that he had a friend in John of Gaunt who would not forsake him.

John of Gaunt did not forsake him. He renewed, from time to time, his efforts to effect his release; and he promised that John should not return to London if he were released. Then Nicholas Brembre, Mayor for four years running, asked the opinion of the Aldermen and Common Council as to the expediency of releasing this terrible prisoner. They all agreed that it would be dangerous to let him loose, even if he lived a hundred miles from the City. In 1389, however, he was allowed to return, and his property was restored to him. But the Mayor strictly forbade any discussions as to the quarrel between John of Northampton and Nicholas Brembre.

To go back for a while and trace the career of Sir Nicholas Brembre is now necessary. He was a wealthy grocer, son of Sir John Brembre, a knight and country gentleman of Kent. One of the many examples which the City affords of the country lad who was not a rustic, but a gentleman, coming to London to make his fortune (see vol. i. p. 216).

As he purchased estates in Kent in 1372, and became an Alderman in 1376, it seems reasonable to suppose that he was born about the year 1322. He joined the aristocratic party in the City, which strove to deprive the Craft Companies of any voice in the City, and was as strenuous a supporter of Courtenay as he was an enemy of John of Northampton.

In 1377, when Staple, the Mayor, was deposed, Brembre was appointed in his place. The year after Brembre was charged at the Parliament of Gloucester by Thomas of Woodstock, the King’s uncle, with negligence of duty on the occasion of a riot, when—

“Upon Cornhille in London, the men of that vicinity made assault upon the servants of the said Earl, and beat and wounded them, and pursued them, when flying to his hostel, and broke and hewed down the doors of the same with axes and other arms, the said Earl being then within and lying in his bed, and, by reason thereof, no little alarmed; to the grievous damage of the said Earl, and so pernicious an example to the whole realm; and all this, he alleged, had happened through the inexcusable slothfulness of the said Nicholas, and he requested that redress should be made to him for the same.” (Riley’s Memorials, p. 427.)

Brembre, however, offered a full and complete reply to the charge, and returned, says the contemporary authority, to his hostel with honour.

Thomas of Woodstock, however, neither forgot nor forgave, although Brembre gave him a hundred marks by way of conciliation. And there follows a very pretty passage, showing the spirit with which the City liberties were regarded:—

“Which transactions being thus related in order before the Mayor and the Common Council, each one of them gave hearty thanks to the said Nicholas; knowing for certain that it was for no demerits of his own, but for the preservation of the liberties of the City, and for the extreme love which he bore to it, that he had undergone such labours and expenses. Wherefore, with one accord, by the said Mayor, Aldermen, and all the rest of the Commoners, it was faithfully granted and promised, that the City should keep the said Nicholas indemnified as to the said 100 marks, and also all other expenses by reason of that matter by him incurred. And that the same might be kept in memory, orders were given to the Common Clerk that it should thus be entered.” (Riley’s Memorials, p. 428.)

Brembre then became one of the two collectors of customs for the Port of London, Geoffrey Chaucer being his comptroller. On the rising of the Commons, Brembre, with Philpot and Walworth, rode to Smithfield with the King, and was knighted for his services on that occasion.

It was after this that the great struggle between himself, as the leader of the aristocratic party, and therefore of the great companies, and John of Northampton, as the leader of the popular cause, took place. We have seen how John of Northampton acted as Mayor (1381-1383). In the latter year Brembre was elected Mayor, but it was by force of arms.

In January 1384 John was arrested, and, as we have seen, his follower, Constantyn, was hanged by Brembre. In 1386, petitions were presented to Parliament by ten of the City Companies, charging Brembre with tyrannical and oppressive conduct, and especially in securing the re-election by violence. For he filled the Guildhall with armed men, who ran upon those of the opposite faction with great noise, shouting, “Kill! kill! lour poursuyvantz hydousement.” Thomas of Woodstock, mindful of the old grudge, charged Brembre with plotting in favour of Suffolk. Yet he escaped, and was admitted by the King into his Council. In November 1387 he was again accused by Thomas of Woodstock with treason. The other four of the King’s Council were also charged with treason, viz. the Archbishop of York; Sir Robert Vere, Duke of Ireland; Michael de la Pole, Earl of Suffolk; and Tressillian, the Lord Chief Justice.

The King replied that he had taken them into his own protection. Nevertheless, they all thought it prudent to fly in different directions.

The King sent for the Mayor. “How many archers and men-at-arms would the City provide in case of necessity?” The Mayor returned an evasive reply; he said that the citizens were only soldiers in defence of their City, as for himself, he begged permission to retire from office.

The King left Windsor and took up his residence in the Tower, thinking to have the City between himself and the Lords. But Thomas of Woodstock, now Duke of Gloucester, with the Earls of Arundel, Nottingham, Warwick, and Derby, hastened to London and demanded admission into the City. The citizens hesitated; at last, however, they yielded, and the Lords, with all their array, entered the City. It is significant of the condition of the City that the Lords offered to mediate in the trade disputes, but their offer was not accepted.

Meantime Brembre, who had fled into Wales, was captured and brought to London.

His trial took place as soon as Parliament met. There were thirty-nine charges brought against him as one of the King’s Council. He asked for delay to prepare his reply. This being refused, he offered wager of battle. All the Lords and Commons present threw down their gauntlets, but it was ruled that it was not a case for the ordeal by battle.

The trial was resumed the following day, the King, who was present, showing himself entirely in favour of the prisoner. The case was placed in the hands of a commission of Lords, who brought in a verdict of not guilty. But they were not going to allow Brembre to escape. They sent for the Mayor and Aldermen. Thus (I quote R. R. Sharpe):—

“One would have thought that with Nicholas Exton, his old friend and ally, to speak up for him, Brembre’s life would now at least be saved, even if he were not altogether acquitted. It was not so, however. The Mayor and Aldermen were asked as to their opinion (not as to their knowledge), whether Brembre was cognisant of certain matters, and they gave it as their opinion that Brembre was more likely to have been cognisant of them than not. Turning then to the Recorder, the lords asked him how stood the law in such a case? To which he replied, that a man who knew such things as were laid to Brembre’s charge, and knowing them failed to reveal them, deserved death. On such evidence as this, Brembre was convicted on the 20th February, and condemned to be executed. He was drawn on a hurdle through the City to Tyburn, showing himself very penitent, and earnestly desiring all persons to pray for him. At the last moment he confessed that his conduct towards Northampton had been vile and wicked. Whilst craving pardon of Northampton’s son, ‘he was suddenly turned off, and the executioner cutting his throat, he died.’” (London and the Kingdom, vol. i. p. 237.)

The history of Brembre shows that he was a strong man, at least, and fearless in a time when charges of treason were easily concocted and ruthlessly applied, when the King, his protector, was young and weak, and when the other side, which had with them the craftsmen of London, was strong and well-organised.

In looking upon the long struggle of the craftsmen against their employers, there are certain considerations which we must not forget.

It was really inevitable that the masters, the employers, would have the control, such as I have pointed out, in every trade. The men, quite ignorant of the very rudest principles of political economy, living from week to week, asking at most nothing but the weekly wage and cheap food, presently began to question. Why should the masters rule everything? Why should not the men command their own wages and their own hours? The questions, which we hear all around us at the present day, were asked six hundred years ago. The working men formed combinations, or unions, of their own; they kept on trying to form these combinations; the number of cases that have been recorded, which were certainly not the whole number, or anything like it, prove a deep and widespread discontent, and a sullen resolve of the working men to take, if possible, the management of their work into their own hands. They failed, however, and their failure was absolute and complete. They were brought before the Mayor and Aldermen; their combinations were dissolved; they were sent back to their company; no union, or association, or combination of working men was permitted to London outside the company. Let me take one case in illustration, that of David Brekenhof. This man, with half-a-dozen others, was brought before the Mayor, charged with rebellion against employers. They had broken off from the company; they had left the dwelling-places assigned to them; they had taken a house in another parish; here they had set up workshops for themselves; they called assemblies of other working men; they settled their own wages; they hustled and wounded one of the masters who went to expostulate with them; they rescued their companions from arrest when they were seized by the serjeants of the City. This, you will observe, was a very determined effort, coupled with assemblies of other working men, and backed by the appeal to arms. The sentence of the Mayor shows how seriously the danger was regarded. He did not dare to arouse a spirit of revenge among the working men. These offenders were left unpunished; they were simply told to give up their house; to go back to their company, and to resume work in obedience. And so David Brekenhof and his rebels vanish again and we hear no more of them. And until the nineteenth century there were no more combinations of working men in London.

With the ideas of the present day, this refusal to allow the craftsmen to combine seems tyrannical. We must go back, however, to the ideas of the thirteenth century. The assumption, the theory, the belief, that the working classes ought to have any voice in the management of their own affairs, if it lingered anywhere in London of the thirteenth century, was a survival of the Folk Mote, the Citizens’ Parliament, of Paul’s Cross. The Folk Mote still continued; it was used for party purposes; it had no real power, but it kept alive the memory of power. It ceased to be held after the thirteenth century; it died out when a Court of Common Council was formed, and it is significant that when the old Folk Parliament ceased to meet we hear no more of the revolt of working men against the companies.

What a citizen like Whittington thought and said was something like this: “In a great city the governing class should be wealthy, enlightened, and instructed. It should know the ports of trade, the demand for imports, the markets for exports, the limits of production, the figures which are needed to arrive at wages and retail price. It must also, in an age of artificial courtesy, understand good manners, and not be afraid to stand before kings. As for the men of the other class, who have no knowledge, save of a single trade, it is best for the State that they should be under rule and governance.” And to the best of his ability, Whittington, who was a stern Magistrate yet a just man, did keep the people under rule and governance. I believe that the mediæval masters were, as a rule, and up to their lights, benevolent; they did look after their people; they gave them wages which allowed a higher standard of living than was possible for any other working men in the world; they looked after the old, and they brought up the young.

For myself, I cannot but think that had the craftsmen then obtained their desire, the result would have been disastrous to the fortunes of the City. London would have become another Ghent or Bruges; it would be, now, a city of deserted trade. The time was not yet ready for the rule of the people by the people. They wanted education, experience, suffering, before they were able to rule. As yet they understood nothing, absolutely nothing, about liberties; they wanted nothing but the control over their own work. I think, in a word, that Whittington’s views were right for a man of Whittington’s time.