1,99 €
Mehr erfahren.
- Herausgeber: Booksell-Verlag
- Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
- Sprache: Englisch
In "Medieval London, Vol. 1 & 2," Walter Besant offers a meticulous and immersive exploration of London during the Middle Ages, vividly illustrating its transformation from a Roman outpost to a bustling medieval metropolis. The narrative is rich with historical detail, employing a blend of descriptive prose and analytical commentary that captures the socio-political landscape and daily life of its inhabitants. Through meticulously sourced archival research, Besant contextualizes the significance of London's development within the larger tapestry of English history, presenting an intricate picture of its commerce, culture, and architecture. Walter Besant, a renowned Victorian novelist and historian, was deeply influenced by the rapid changes of the industrial era, which inspired his passion for the historical narrative and preservation of city heritage. His extensive background in literature and social reform, coupled with a keen interest in urban showcases, led him to delve into the rich tapestry of London's medieval past. Besant's commitment to educating his contemporaries about the importance of history is evident in his vivid storytelling and rigorous scholarship. "Medieval London" is a compelling read for history enthusiasts, scholars, and anyone intrigued by the enduring legacy of urban life. Besant's narrative not only informs but also enriches the reader's understanding of London's medieval identity, making it an indispensable resource for those seeking depth in the study of urban history. In this enriched edition, we have carefully created added value for your reading experience: - A succinct Introduction situates the work's timeless appeal and themes. - The Synopsis outlines the central plot, highlighting key developments without spoiling critical twists. - A detailed Historical Context immerses you in the era's events and influences that shaped the writing. - A thorough Analysis dissects symbols, motifs, and character arcs to unearth underlying meanings. - Reflection questions prompt you to engage personally with the work's messages, connecting them to modern life. - Hand‐picked Memorable Quotes shine a spotlight on moments of literary brilliance. - Interactive footnotes clarify unusual references, historical allusions, and archaic phrases for an effortless, more informed read.
Das E-Book können Sie in Legimi-Apps oder einer beliebigen App lesen, die das folgende Format unterstützen:
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023
Ähnliche
Medieval London (Vol. 1&2)
Table of Contents
Introduction
A living city wrestles its identity from the cross-currents of faith, trade, and authority, and Medieval London (Vol. 1 & 2) traces how that struggle shaped streets, institutions, and habits across the centuries, showing an urban community learning to govern itself, organize work, celebrate belief, and survive adversity while continually remaking the physical and moral map by which its people navigated daily life and collective memory, so that the London we inherit today can be read as the layered outcome of medieval choices, compromises, ambitions, and rituals, preserved in stone, custom, and story.
Walter Besant’s Medieval London is a two-volume work of narrative history and urban portraiture concerned with the city in the Middle Ages. First issued in the early twentieth century, it extends the author’s long-standing engagement with London’s past, presenting a panoramic account rather than a narrow monograph. The setting is the walled city beside the Thames and its expanding liberties, viewed across the full medieval span. The genre is historical synthesis with a strong topographical bent, attentive to places, offices, and practices. Readers encounter a study that seeks breadth and clarity, offering an accessible entry point to a complex period.
The premise is simple and capacious: to reconstruct how medieval Londoners lived, organized, and imagined their city. Besant offers an experience that mixes careful exposition with descriptive scene-setting, moving from the framework of civic governance to the textures of work, worship, and festivity. The voice is assured and explanatory, the style measured rather than ornate, the mood attentive to continuity as much as to disruption. Instead of a spotlight on singular events alone, the chapters build a composite view of routine and ceremony, showing how legal forms, neighborhood customs, and public obligations knit together an urban commonwealth.
Key themes include civic autonomy and the evolution of self-government; the discipline and solidarity of guilds and crafts; the interplay of sacred and secular power; and the practical logistics of markets, justice, and defense. The city’s walls, gates, river, and bridges are treated not merely as scenery but as instruments of policy and habit. While political upheavals and public calamities punctuate the narrative, the emphasis falls on how institutions absorb shocks and then recalibrate everyday life. The result is a study of resilience and administration as much as of spectacle, attentive to ordinary frameworks that endure between celebrated crises.
The two volumes balance breadth with organization by dealing both with the machinery of urban order and with the beliefs and buildings that gave it meaning. One emphasis falls on municipal offices, courts, and associations that regulated conduct and commerce; another on the religious landscape—parish, guild chapel, and great foundation—and its imprint on time and space. Throughout, Besant treats the city as a network of obligations and privileges inscribed in streets, ceremonies, and bylaws. The method is aggregative and comparative: he places discrete customs and places side by side until the underlying pattern of a medieval metropolis becomes legible.
Modern readers may find particular value in the book’s patient attention to how communities construct public life. Questions that still resonate—who belongs, how work is organized, what authority can demand, and what citizens owe one another—are explored through concrete urban arrangements rather than abstract theory. By reconstructing routines of trade, charity, worship, and redress, Besant shows how shared institutions can stabilize a diverse, busy place. The relevance lies less in nostalgia than in the reminder that robust civic forms grow out of negotiated practices, and that a city’s health depends on habits as much as on laws.
Approached today, Medieval London offers a steady, synthesizing perspective that rewards close, unhurried reading. It is not a tale of relentless drama but a cumulative portrait in which streets, offices, and rites acquire meaning through repetition and change. Readers encounter a guide who prefers clarity to flourish, context to conjecture, and who trusts the coherence of the city to emerge from details patiently arranged. The effect is both intimate and expansive, leaving an impression of London as a durable organism and of the Middle Ages as a time when institutions took shape in forms still faintly visible in the modern city.
Synopsis (Selection)
Walter Besant’s Medieval London (Vol. 1 & 2) surveys the growth, structure, and institutions of the city from the early Middle Ages to the eve of the Tudor era. Drawing on charters, chronicles, and topographical evidence, the work explains how geography, law, commerce, and religion shaped an urban community. Volume I emphasizes historical and social aspects—origins, government, trade, guilds, and daily life—while Volume II concentrates on ecclesiastical London—its cathedral, parishes, monasteries, friars, hospitals, and religious customs. The narrative proceeds chronologically and thematically, tracing London’s evolving liberties and civic identity. Throughout, Besant outlines the city’s framework rather than offering literary embellishment or argument.
The account begins with the site and early fortunes of London, noting the Roman legacy and the shift to the Anglo-Saxon settlement at Lundenwic and later the fortified Lundenburh. It describes the refortification under Alfred, the revival of trade along the Thames, and the reestablishment of civic order around markets and wharves. Early churches, notably St Paul’s, mark ecclesiastical continuity and influence. Besant places emphasis on how river access, walls, and gates determined growth. The groundwork of wards and customary assemblies emerges, preparing the way for later institutions. The city’s identity is portrayed as both mercantile and defensive, rooted in privileges confirmed by successive rulers.
After the Norman Conquest, the book details royal charters guaranteeing London’s ancient customs, the strategic dominance of the Tower, and the steady assertion of civic autonomy. The establishment of the mayoralty, with Henry Fitz Ailwin as the first recorded mayor, and the operation of the courts—Husting, wardmotes, and folkmoot—define political maturity. The narrative also covers the building of the stone London Bridge under Peter of Colechurch, a vital thoroughfare lined with houses and shops. Trade and population growth in the 12th century spur clearer regulation of markets and craft organization. The City’s collective liberties crystallize in this period, setting precedents for later governance.
Civic organization and routine administration in the 13th and 14th centuries receive careful treatment. Besant outlines the roles of sheriffs, aldermen, and the Common Council, the division into wards, and the city’s system of watch and ward. He summarizes ordinances governing streets, sanitation, building, and night-time conduct, along with the response to recurring fires and the construction of conduits to bring fresh water. The narrative follows the steady codification of custom into law and the responsibility of guilds for quality control, apprenticeship, and relief. Public buildings, including the Guildhall, symbolize institutional solidity, while routine proclamations and pageants reflect ordered civic life.
The economic chapters describe London’s position as England’s principal port and clearinghouse for wool, cloth, fish, wine, and luxury goods. Besant notes the presence and privileges of foreign merchants, including the Hanseatic League at the Steelyard and Lombard financiers, and the regulation of their trading rights. He records the settlement and later expulsion of the Jews in 1290 and the impact on finance and property. Markets at Cheapside, Billingsgate, and Smithfield structure daily commerce, while the river—bridges, quays, and stairs—organizes movement of goods. Customs, tolls, and company oversight link trade to municipal revenue and governance, anchoring the City’s prosperity.
Daily life appears through housing types, craft workshops, food supplies, and the rhythms of work and feast days. Besant outlines apprenticeship, livery company membership, and charitable endowments supporting almshouses and schools. Public amusements, tournaments at Smithfield, parish clerks’ plays, and seasonal watches illustrate communal sociability. Hospitals such as St Bartholomew’s, St Thomas’s, and Bethlem show organized care and religious charity. Water conduits, street cleaning, bridges, and ferries frame movement and sanitation. The narrative notes clothing, diet, and household goods as indicators of status, without moralizing. The overall picture is of a regulated, pious, and industrious community balancing custom, commerce, and neighborhood ties.
Political crises and national conflicts are set within London’s civic experience. The City’s role in charter confirmations, its alignment in baronial struggles, and episodes such as William Fitz Osbert’s agitation (1196), the Peasants’ Revolt (1381) and the death of Wat Tyler at Smithfield, and the defense against Jack Cade’s rising (1450) are summarized as events testing urban order. The Black Death and later plagues are treated for their demographic and economic effects, prompting wage and labor ordinances. Besant presents the mayoralty’s authority, ward organization, and companies’ discipline as mechanisms for continuity, showing how law, custom, and ceremony stabilized the City during strain.
Volume II surveys ecclesiastical London in detail. St Paul’s Cathedral, its chapter, and Paul’s Cross sermons exemplify ecclesiastical authority and public exhortation. The book lists monastic and conventual houses—St Bartholomew’s Priory, Holy Trinity Aldgate, St Mary Clerkenwell, the Charterhouse—and the mendicant friaries: Blackfriars (Dominicans), Greyfriars (Franciscans), Whitefriars (Carmelites), and Austin Friars. Parishes, chantries, fraternities, and guild chapels organize devotion and charity at the neighborhood level. Church courts, schools attached to religious houses, and hospitals integrate spiritual and social care. Besant emphasizes sites, endowments, and functions, mapping a dense religious topography interwoven with civic space and routine.
The closing chapters trace late medieval continuity and change: rebuilding and embellishment of the Guildhall, consolidation of company power, and the growth of civic pageantry that would later become the Lord Mayor’s Show. Printing at nearby Westminster and increasing literacy foreshadow new conditions, while established conduits, markets, and courts continue to structure urban life. Besant concludes with a portrait of a city defined by self-government, regulated commerce, and a pervasive ecclesiastical presence. The two volumes present the institutions, sites, and customs that carried London to the threshold of the Tudor period, offering an ordered account of how the medieval city functioned and endured.
Historical Context
Walter Besant’s Medieval London, published posthumously in two volumes in 1906 with editorial assistance by G. E. Mitton, reconstructs the social, civic, and ecclesiastical life of London from the Norman Conquest through the late fifteenth century. The setting is the walled city and its liberties along the Thames, from the Tower to Westminster, with Cheapside, the Guildhall precinct, and St Paul’s as civic and spiritual centers. Drawing on charters, Letter-Books, wills enrolled in the Husting, and monastic cartularies, Besant situates London amid feudal monarchy, baronial politics, and expanding commerce. Volume 1 treats historical and social structures; Volume 2 examines religious houses, parish life, and clerical governance.
Central to the book is the rise of London’s civic liberty and governance under royal charters and municipal institutions. William I’s brief charter c. 1067 confirmed Edward the Confessor’s customs; Henry I’s charter (c. 1133) let citizens farm Middlesex and choose sheriffs, marking corporate autonomy. The office of mayor dates from 1189, with Henry Fitz-Ailwin serving until 1212; the commune was acknowledged in 1191 amid the struggle with Justiciar Longchamp. London’s alignment with the barons in 1215 secured Magna Carta’s clause 13 safeguarding the city’s ancient liberties. The City again took sides with Simon de Montfort in 1264–65, suffered penalties after Evesham, and repeatedly had its liberties seized and restored, notably by Richard II in 1392–97. Administrative structures matured: wards with aldermen and wardmotes, courts at the Guildhall, and the folkmoot at St Paul’s Cross. The stone Guildhall’s great hall was begun in 1411, symbolizing urban sovereignty. Guilds evolved into the livery companies that regulated trade and civic politics: the Weavers received a charter under Henry II (1155); Goldsmiths (1327), Grocers (1345), Drapers (1361), and Mercers (1394) illustrate fourteenth-century consolidation. Seven-year apprenticeships, freeman status, and company ordinances intertwined economic life with civic authority. By c. 1300 London may have held 80,000–100,000 inhabitants, making it Western Europe’s largest city after Paris, though plague later halved this figure. Besant’s Volume 1 anchors narrative turns to these institutional milestones, showing how charters, companies, and courts created an oligarchic but resilient municipality that mediated between Crown, merchants, and artisans.
The expansion of infrastructure and riverine commerce frames many episodes Besant foregrounds. The building of the stone London Bridge (1176–1209) under Peter of Colechurch, with its chapel of St Thomas and densely packed houses, facilitated market integration between Southwark and the City. Port nodes at Queenhithe and Billingsgate, and the Hanseatic Kontor at the Steelyard near Dowgate, structured foreign trade. Edward I’s Carta Mercatoria (1303) extended protections to alien merchants; the Statute of the Staple (1353) fixed the wool staple at Calais, redirecting customs and credit. Besant uses these acts to illustrate the City’s regulation of wharfage, tolls, and warehouses, and its negotiation with powerful foreign trading communities.
The Black Death of 1348–49 is a fulcrum for demographic, economic, and religious change. Arriving in London by late 1348, it prompted royal orders to open burial grounds at East Smithfield, where mass graves near the Tower have since been excavated. Contemporary wills suggest mortality approaching one-third to one-half. The Statute of Labourers (1351) sought to cap wages and fix service terms amid labor scarcity. Besant traces how vacancies in crafts, altered inheritance patterns, and chantry endowments reshaped parish and guild life. Subsequent outbreaks in 1361–62 and 1369 reinforced institutional responses in hospital care, including at St Bartholomew’s and Bethlehem, and in municipal ordinances on sanitation and markets.
The Peasants’ Revolt of 1381, driven by successive poll taxes (1377, 1379, 1380) and seignorial pressures, culminated in dramatic scenes within London. On 13 June rebels entered through Aldgate and other points, freed prisoners from Marshalsea and Fleet, and destroyed John of Gaunt’s Savoy Palace. On 14 June they breached the Tower, killing Archbishop Simon Sudbury and Treasurer Robert Hales. At Smithfield on 15 June, Mayor William Walworth struck down Wat Tyler, and royal charters granted at Mile End were soon revoked. Besant connects the City Letter-Books to these events, showing tensions between apprentices, alien artisans, and livery elites, and the ensuing reinforcement of civic policing and guild discipline.
The fortunes of London’s medieval Jews form a crucial strand. Established after 1066, the community centered on Old Jewry and an archa recorded at the Tower. Anti-Jewish violence marred the coronation of Richard I in 1189 and spread in 1190. Statutes in 1218 enforced the wearing of badges; fiscal exploitation through tallages was routine. In 1278 mass arrests for coin clipping led to executions and confiscations; Edward I’s Edict of Expulsion in 1290 ended Jewish residence in England. Besant maps streets, tenements, and the Domus Conversorum (1232), and tracks how credit shifted to Lombard and Cahors merchant-bankers, reshaping finance along Lombard Street and Cheapside.
War and religious reform intersect with London’s civic narrative. During the Hundred Years’ War (1337–1453) the City financed the Crown through wool customs and forced loans; the staple at Calais (from 1363) tied merchants to royal policy. London welcomed Edward IV in 1461 and again in 1471, its livery companies arranging loans and pageants; commercial diplomacy with the Hanse culminated in the Treaty of Utrecht (1474), confirming the Steelyard’s privileges. Volume 2 surveys ecclesiastical London: friaries such as the Franciscans (from 1224), Dominicans at Blackfriars (on the Thames by 1276), Austin Friars (1253), and Carmelites at Whitefriars (1247). Against this backdrop Besant treats Lollardy, including the Oldcastle rising of 1414 near St Giles-in-the-Fields.
Across both volumes the book functions as a critique of medieval power, revealing a city that prized liberty while concentrating authority in a narrow corporate elite. Besant highlights how guild oligarchies regulated labor, enforced apprenticeship barriers, and suppressed unrest under the cover of civic order; how Crown and City colluded to tax, police, and at times scapegoat outsiders, including alien merchants and Jews; and how ecclesiastical wealth coexisted with urban poverty despite hospitals and alms. By juxtaposing charters and ordinances with episodes like the plague and 1381, the work exposes persistent inequities, the disciplining of labor, and the politics of sanctity and ceremony sustaining social hierarchy.
Medieval London (Vol. 1&2)
Volume 1
Table of Contents
PART I MEDIÆVAL SOVEREIGNS
CHAPTER IHENRY II
[In considering the reigning Kings in order, I have found it necessary to reserve for the chapters on the Mediæval Government of the City the Charters successively granted to the Citizens, and their meaning.]
HENRY II. (1133-1189)From his effigy at Fontevrault.
The accession of the young King, then only three-and-twenty years of age, brought to the City as well as to the Country, a welcome period of rest and peace and prosperity. These precious gifts were secured by the ceaseless watchfulness of the King, whose itinerary shows that he was a most unwearied traveller, with a determined purpose and a bulldog tenacity. From the outset he gave the whole nation, barons and burgesses, to understand that he meant to be King. To begin with, he ordered all aliens to depart. The land and the City were full of them; they were known by their gait as well as their speech; the good people of London looked about the streets, the day after the proclamation of exile, for these unwelcome guests, whose violence they had endured so long. They were gone “as though they had been phantoms,” Holinshed writes. During his long reign, 1154-1189, Henry, who seldom stayed in one place more than a few days, was in London or Westminster on twenty-seven occasions, but in many of them for a day or two only. These occasions were in March 1155; in April 1157; in March, July, and October 1163; in April and September 1164; in September and October 1165; in April and June 1170; in July 1174; in May, August, and October 1175; in March and May 1176; in March and April 1177; in July 1178; in August, November, and December 1186; in March 1185; in June 1186, and in June 1188. And all these visits together amounted to less than three months in thirty-five years. We may note that Henry held his first Christmas at Bermondsey, not at Westminster. One asks in vain what reason there was for holding the Court at a monastic house in the middle of a marsh, much more difficult of access than that of Westminster. It was here that it was decided that the Flemings, who had flocked over during the last reign, should leave the country. Among them was William of Ypres whom Stephen had made Earl of Kent. We hear very little of the King’s personal relations with the citizens, by whom he was respected as befits one of whom it is written that he was “pitiful to the poor, liberal to all men, that he took of his subjects but seldom times any great tributes, and, further, that he was careful above all things to have the laws duly executed and justice uprightly administered on all hands.”
In the year 1170 Henry II. had his eldest son Henry crowned King; but the “Young King,” as he was called, never lived to occupy his father’s place; after a career of rebellion he died of a fever in 1183.
Henry’s Charter gave the citizens privileges and liberties as large as those granted by Henry I.—with one or two important exceptions. The opening clause in the former Charter was as follows:—
“Know ye that I have granted to my citizens of London to hold Middlesex to farm for three hundred pounds upon accompt to them and their heirs: so that the said citizens shall place as sheriff whomsoever they will of themselves: and as Justiciar whomsoever they will of themselves, for keeping of the pleas of the crown, and of the pleadings of the same, and none other shall be justice over the same men of London.”
Except for a few years in the twelfth century the sheriffs were always elected by the Crown. In the reign of Stephen the citizens are said to have bought the right of electing their sheriffs. The omission of so important a clause indicates the policy of the King. It was his intention to bring the City under the direct supervision of the Crown. He therefore retained the appointment of the sheriff in his own hands; he calls him “my sheriff,” meus Vicecomes; and it was so kept by himself and his successor Richard the First. When John restored to the City the election of the sheriff, the post had lost much of its importance because the communal system of municipal government had been introduced under a mayor. Thanks mainly to the strong hand of the King, who enforced peace and order throughout the country, the prosperity of London greatly increased during his reign. As yet the City was governed by its aristocracy, the aldermen of the wards, which were at first manors or private estates. They endeavoured to rule the City as a baron ruled his people each in his own ward: there was, however, the Folk Mote to be reckoned with. The people understood what was meant by meeting and by open discussion: the right of combination was but a corollary.
It is at this time that we first hear of the licences of guilds. We may take it as a sign of prosperity when men of the same craft begin to unite themselves into corporate bodies, and to form rules for the common interest.
In the year 1180 it is recorded that a number of Guilds formed without licence were fined:—
“The Gild whereof Gosceline was Alderman or President, thirty marks; Gilda Aurifabrorum, or Goldsmiths, Radulphus Flael, Alderman, forty-five marks; Gilda de Holiwell, Henry son of Godr. Alderman, twenty shillings; Gilda Bocheiorum, William la Feite, Alderman, one mark; Gilda de Ponte Thomas Cocus, Alderman, one mark; Gilda Piperariorum, Edward——, Alderman, sixteen marks; Gilda de Ponte, Alwin Fink, Alderman, fifteen marks; Gilda Panariorum, John Maurus, Alderman, one mark; Robert Rochefolet, his Gild, one mark; Richard Thedr. Feltrarius, Alderman, two marks; Gilda de Sancto Lazaro, Radulph de Barre, Alderman, twenty-five marks; Gilda de Ponte, Robert de Bosio, Alderman, ten marks; Gilda Peregrinorum, Warner le Turner, Alderman, forty shillings; Odo Vigil, Alderman, his Gild, one mark; Hugo Leo, Alderman, his Gild, one mark; and Gilda de Ponte, Peter, son of Alan, Alderman, fifteen marks.” (Maitland, vol. i. p. 53.)
CORONATION OF THE “YOUNG KING”From Vie de St. Thomas (a French MS., 1230-1260).
If there were unlicensed guilds, there must have been licensed guilds. Unfortunately it is not known how many, or of what kind, these were. Among them, however, was the important and powerful Guild of Weavers, who were at that time to London what the “drapiers” were to Ypres in Flanders. (See p. 201.)
It is sufficient to note the claim of the King to license every guild. As for the fining of the unlicensed guild, since the business of a guild is the regulation of trade, one would like to know how trade was regulated when there was no guild. But enough of this matter for the present.
In this reign occurs an early instance of heresy obstinate unto death. The heretics came over from Germany. There were thirty of them, men and women. They called themselves Publicans; one of them, their leader, Gerard, had some learning: the rest were ignorant. They derided matrimony, the Sacraments of Baptism, the Lord’s Supper, and other articles. Being brought before the King, they were pressed with Scripture, “but stuck manfully to their faith and refused to be convinced.” It was therefore ordered that they should be burned with a hot iron on the forehead, and the leader on the chin as well, that they should be whipped, that they should be thrust out into the fields and that none should give them food, or fire, or lodging; which was done, the sufferers singing all the time, “Blessed are ye when men do hate you”—and so they went out into the open country, where they all died of cold and starvation. A pitiful story!
Here is a strange story told by Stow. It is a good deal amplified from that given by Roger of Hoveden, but perhaps Stow obtained more material from other authorities also:—
“A brother of the Earle Ferrers was in the night privily slayne at London, which when the King understoode, he sware that he would bee avenged on the Citizens: for it was then a common practice in the Citie, and an hundred or more in a company of young and old, would make nightly invasions upon the houses of the wealthie, to the intent to robbe them, and if they found any man stirring in the Citie within the night, they would presently murther him, in so much, that when night was come, no man durst adventure to walke in the Streetes. When this had continued long, it fortuned that a crewe of young and wealthy Cittizens assembling together in the night, assaulted a stone house of a certaine rich manne, and breaking through the wall, the good man of that house having prepared himselfe with other in a corner, when he perceived one of the Theeves named Andrew Bucquinte to leade the way, with a burning brand in the one hand and a pot of coales in the other, whiche he assayed to kindle with the brande, hee flew upon him, and smote off his right hande, and then with a lowde voyce cryed Theeves, at the hearing whereof the Theeves tooke their flight, all saving hee that had lost his hande, whom the good man in the next morning delivered to Richarde de Lucy the King’s Justice. This Theefe uppon warrant of his life, appeached his confederates, of whome many were taken, and many were fled, but among the rest that were apprehended, a certaine Citizen of great countenance, credite, and wealth, surnamed Iohn the olde,1 when he could not acquite himselfe by the Watardome, offered the King for his life five hundred Marks, but the King commanded that he shoulde be hanged, which was done, and the Citie became more quiet.” (Howe’s edition of Stow’s Chronicles, p. 153.)
Here, then, is a case in which the ordeal by water was thought to prove a man’s guilt. In another place will be found described the method of the ordeal by water. What happened was, of course, that the unfortunate man’s arm was scalded. However, the City became quiet, which was some gain.
In the year 1164 London Bridge was “new made of timber” by Peter of Colechurch, who afterwards built it of stone.
In the year 1176 the stone bridge over the river was commenced. It was not completed until 1209, after the death of the architect.
Henry I. had punished the moneyers for their base coin. Henry II. also had to punish them for the same offence, but he chose a method perhaps more effective. He fined them.
BECKET DISPUTING WITH THE KINGFrom MS. in British Museum—Claudius D2 (Cotton).
The relations of Thomas à Becket with the King: their friendship and their quarrels and the tragic end of the Archbishop, belong to the history of the country. It does concern this book, however, that Thomas was by birth a Londoner. His father, Gilbert, whose family came from Caen, was a citizen of good position, chief magistrate, or portreeve, in the reign of Stephen. Gilbert Becket was remembered in the City not only by the history of his illustrious son, but by the fact that it was he who built the chapel in the Pardon Churchyard, on the north side of St. Paul’s, a place where many persons of honour were buried. It was ever the mediæval custom to make one place more sacred than another, so that if it was a blessed thing to be buried in a certain church, it was more blessed to lie in front of the altar. The old story about Gilbert’s wife being a Syrian is repeated by the historians, and is very possibly true. Holinshed says she was a “Saracen by religion,” which is certainly not true. Thomas Becket was born in wedlock; his father was certainly not married to a Mohammedan, and the birthplace of the future martyr was in a house on the site of the present Mercers’ Chapel, which itself stands on the site of the chapel of St. Thomas of Acon.
Gilbert Becket died leaving behind him a considerable property in houses and lands. Whether the archbishop took possession of this property as his father’s son, or whether he gave it to his sister, I do not know. Certain it is that after his death his sister Agnes, then married to Thomas Fitz Theobald de Heiley, gave the whole of the family estates to endow a Hospital dedicated to her brother Saint and Martyr. Nothing should be kept back: all—all must be given: one sees the intensity of affection, sorrow, pride, with which the new Saint was regarded by his family. There could be no worshipper at the altar of St. Thomas à Becket more devout than his own sister. (See also p. 278.)
GREAT SEAL OF HENRY II.
CHAPTER IIRICHARD I
The coronation of King Richard on September 3, 1189, was disgraced by a massacre of the Jews—the first example of anti-Jewish feeling. Perhaps when they first came over these unfortunate people hoped that no traditional hatred of the race existed in England. Experience, alas! might have taught them, perhaps had taught them, that hatred grew up round the footsteps of the Infidel as quickly as the thistles in the field. When the Jew arrived in England what could he do? He could not trade because the merchants had their guilds; and every guild had its church, its saint, its priests, its holy days. He could not hold land because every acre had its own lord, and could only be transferred by an Act including a declaration of faith; he could not become a lawyer or a physician because the avenues to these professions lay also through the Church. Did a man wish to build a bridge, he must belong to the Holy Brotherhood of Bridge-Builders—Pontifices. Was an architect wanted, he was looked for in a Monastery. The scholars, the physicians, the artists were men of the cloister. Even the minstrels, gleemen, jugglers, tumblers, dancers, buffoons, and mimes, though the Church did not bless their calling, would have scorned to suffer a Jew among them. That was the position of the Jew. Every calling closed to him, every door shut. There was, however, one way open, but a way of contempt, a way accursed by the Church, a way held impossible to the Christian. He might practise usury. The lending of money for profit was absolutely forbidden by the Church. He who carried on this business was accounted as excommunicated. If he died while carrying it on, his goods were forfeited and fell to the Crown. In the matter of usury the Church had always been firm and consistent. The Church, through one or two of the Fathers, had even denounced trade. St. Augustine plainly said that in selling goods no addition was to be made to the price for which they were bought, a method which if carried out would destroy all trade except barter. So that while the usurer was accursed by the Church, to the King he became a large and very valuable asset. Every Jew who became rich, by his death enriched the King. It was calculated (see Joseph Jacobs, The Jews of Angevin England) that the Jews contributed every year one-twelfth of the King’s revenues. The interest charged by the usurer was in those days enormously high, forty per cent and even more: so that it is easy to understand how rich a Jew might become and how strong would be the temptation to squeeze him.
FIRST SEAL OF RICHARD I.
As for the hatred of the people for the Jews, I think that it had nothing whatever to do with their money-lending, for the simple reason that they had no dealings with them. The common people never borrowed money of the Jews, because they had no security to offer and no want of money except for their daily bread. Those who borrowed of the Jews were the Barons, who strengthened or repaired or rebuilt their castles; the Bishop, who wanted to carry on his cathedral or to build a church; the Abbot, who had works to execute upon the monastery estates, or a church to beautify. The great Lords of the Church and the Realm were the borrowers; and we do not find that they murdered the Jews. The popular hatred was purely religious. The Jew was an unbeliever: when no one was looking at him he spat upon the Cross; when he dared he kidnapped children and crucified them; he it was who crucified our Lord, and would do so again if he could. Why, the King was going off to the East to kill infidels, and here were infidels at home. Why not begin by killing them first? So the people reasoned, quite logically, on these premisses.
To return to the coronation of Richard I. For fear of magic it was ordered that no Jew and no woman should be allowed admission to the Abbey Church during the function. Unfortunately, the Jews, hoping to conciliate the new Sovereign with gifts, assembled outside the gates and endeavoured to gain admission. It was always characteristic of the Jews, especially in times of persecution, that they never in the least understood the intensity of hatred with which they were regarded by the world. One would think that on such an occasion common prudence would have kept them at home. Not so, they endeavoured to force their way into the Hall during the Coronation Banquet, but they were roughly driven back, and the rumour ran that the King had ordered them to be put to death; so they were cudgelled, stoned, struck with knives, chased to their houses, which were then set on fire. From mid-day till two of the clock on the following day the mob continued to murder, to pillage, and to destroy.
It is noted that at Richard’s Coronation Banquet the Chief Magistrate of London, not yet Mayor, officiated as Butler, an office claimed in the following reigns from that precedent.
When Richard prepared for his Crusade he ordered the City to furnish a certain quantity of armour, spears, knives, tents, etc., for the use of his army, together with wine, silken habits, and other things for his own use.
On the departure of Richard for Palestine his Chancellor, William Longchamp, Bishop of Ely, took up his residence in the Tower. Power turned his head; he acted like one whose position is safe, and authority unbounded. He annoyed the citizens by constructing a moat round the Tower, and by including within the external wall of the Tower a piece of land here and another there, a mill which belonged to St. Katherine’s Hospital, and a garden belonging to the City. He offended the Bishops by seizing his brother Regent, Bishop Pudsey; and the Barons by insulting Geoffrey, Archbishop of York, the son of Fair Rosamond. Thereafter, when John, at the head of a large army, summoned him to justify himself at Reading, Longchamp closed the gates of the Tower.
John proceeded to ascertain the disposition of the leading citizens of London. On the one hand Longchamp was the representative of the King, appointed by the King, to whom obedience was due. On the other hand, he had exasperated the citizens beyond endurance. They were ready—but with exceptions—to transfer their allegiance to John—always as the King’s representative. And here they saw their opportunity for making terms with John to their own advantage. Why not ask for the Commune? They did so. They made the granting of the Commune the condition of John’s admission into the City, and therefore of Longchamp’s disgrace. Should John refuse they would close their gates and support the Chancellor. But John accepted.
He rode from Reading into London accompanied by the Archbishop of Rouen and a great number of Bishops, Earls, and Barons. He was met by the citizens. The gates were thrown open; and John’s army sat down to besiege the Tower from the City and from the outside. This done, he called a council in the Chapel House of St. Paul’s and there solemnly conceded the Commune, upon which the citizens took oath of obedience to him, subject to the rights of the King. The meaning of this concession will be found more fully considered later on. At present it is sufficient to observe that it was followed by the election of the first Mayor of London: that other towns hastened to get the same recognition: and that the Commune, though never formally withdrawn by Richard himself, was never allowed by him.
Two Charters were granted to the City by Richard. The first, dated April 23, 1194, was an exact copy of his father’s Charter, with the same omission as to the election of Sheriff and Justiciar. It is not addressed to the Mayor, because Richard never recognised that office, but, as the Charter of Henry II. and that of Henry I., “To the Archbishops, Bishops, Abbots, Earls, Barons, Justices, Sheriffs, Ministers, and all others his faithful Friends and English people.”
The second Charter of July 14, 1197, authorised the removal of all weirs in the River: “For it is manifest to us ... that great determent and discommodity have grown to our City of London and also to the whole realm by reason of the said wears.”
We now arrive at the first intimation of an articulate discontent among the people. In all times those “who have not” regard those “who have” with envy and disfavour; from time to time, generally when the conditions of society seem to make partition possible, this hatred shows itself openly. In the year 1195, there first arose among the people a leader who became the voice of their discontent: he flourished for a while upon their favour; in the end he met with the usual fate of those who rely upon the gratitude and the support of the people. (See vol. ii. pt. i. ch. vi.)
In the year 1198 the Sheriffs of London and Middlesex were ordered by the King to provide standards of weight, length, and measures to be sent into all the Counties.
Richard was received by the City, on his return from captivity, with the greatest show of rejoicing; the houses being so decorated as to move the astonishment of the “Lords of Almaine” who rode with the King.
CROSS OF KNIGHT TEMPLAR
“When they saw the great riches,” Holinshed writes, “which the Londoners shewed in that triumphant receiuing of their souereigne lord and king, they maruelled greatlie thereat, insomuch that one of them said unto him:‘Surelie, oh King, your people are wise and subtile, which doo nothing doubt to shew the beautiful shine of their riches now that they have receiued you home, whereas before they seemed to bewaile their need and povertie, whilest you remained in captiuitie. For verelie if the emperor had understood that the riches of the realme had bin such, neither would he have beene persuaded that England could have been made bare of wealth, neither yet should you so lightlie have escaped his hands without the paiment of a more huge and intollerable ransome.’” (Vol. iii. p. 142, 1586 edition.)
The whole period of Richard’s residence in London, or, indeed, in England, was limited to a few weeks after his coronation and a few weeks after his return from captivity.
CHAPTER IIIJOHN
John granted five Charters to the City.
By the first of these Charters, June 17, 1199, he confirmed the City in the liberties which they had enjoyed under King Henry II.
KING JOHN (1167(?)-1216)From the effigy in Worcester Cathedral.
By the third Charter, July 5, 1199, he went farther: he gave back to the citizens the rights they had obtained from Henry I., viz. the farm of Middlesex for a payment of £300 sterling every year, and the right of electing their own sheriffs. This seemed a great concession, but was not in reality very great, for the existence of a Mayor somewhat lessened the importance of the Sheriffs.
The second Charter confirmed previous laws as to the conservation of the Thames and its Fisheries.
The fourth Charter, March 20, 1202, disfranchised the Weavers’ Guild.
The fifth Charter, May 9, 1215, granted the right of the City to appoint a Mayor. Now there had been already a Mayor for many years, but he had not been formally recognised by the King, and this Charter recognised his existence. The right involved the establishment of the Commune, that is to say, the association of all the burghers alike for the purpose of protecting their common interests. It was no longer, for instance, the Merchant Guild which regulated trade as a whole; nor an association of Trade Guilds: nor was it an association of City Barons: nor was it a tribunal of Justice: it was simply the association of the burghers as a body.
We are now, however, approaching that period of the City History in which was carried on the long struggle between the aristocratic party and the crafts for power. In this place it is only necessary to indicate the beginning of the strife. The parties were first the Barons and Aldermen, owners of the City manors; secondly, the merchants, some of whom belonged to the City aristocracy; and, lastly, the craft. The Chief Magistrate of the Commune held a position of great power and importance. It was necessary for the various parties to endeavour to secure this post for a man of their own side.
HENRY FITZAILWYN, KNT., FIRST LORD MAYOR OF LONDONFrom an old print.
The disfranchisement of the weavers certainly marks a point of importance in this conflict. It shows that the aristocratic party was for the time victorious. The Weavers’ Guild, as we have seen, had become very powerful. Their Guild united in itself all the tradesmen belonging to the manufacture, or the use, of textile fabrics; such as weavers, clothmakers, shearmen, fullers, cloth merchants, tailors, drapers, linen armourers, hosiers, and others, forming a body powerful by numbers, wealth, and organisation. To break up this body was equivalent to destroying the power of the crafts for a long time.
The domestic incidents of the City during this reign are not of great importance.
A very curious story occurs in the year 1209. The King’s Purveyor bought in the City a certain quantity of corn. The two Sheriffs, Roger Winchester and Edmund Hardell, refused to allow him to carry it off. King John, who was never remarkable for meekness, flew into a royal rage on this being reported to him, and ordered the Council of the City to degrade and imprison the said Sheriffs—which was done. But the Council sent a deputation to the King, then staying at Langley, to intercede for the Sheriffs. Their conduct, it was explained, was forced upon them. Had they not stopped the carrying off of the corn there would have been an insurrection which might have proved dangerous. This makes us wonder if the Commonalty resented the sending of corn out of the City? If so, why? Or was there some other reason for preventing it?
After the King’s return from his Irish expedition the Parliament or Council held at St Bride’s, Fleet Street, took place. John wanted money. He insisted on taking it, not from the City but from the Religious Houses. It was an act worthy of an Angevin. The fact, and the way of achieving the fact, are thus narrated by Holinshed:—
“From hence he made hast to London, and at his comming thither, tooke counsell how to recover the great charges and expenses that he had beene at in this journey and by the advice of William Brewer, Robert de Turnham, Reignold de Cornhill, and Richard de Marish, he caused all the cheefe prelats of England to assemble before him at St. Bride’s in London. So that thither came all the Abbats, Abbesses, Templars, Hospitallers, keepers of farmes and possessions of the order of Clugnie, and other such forreners as had lands within this realme belonging to their houses. All which were constreined to paie such a greevous tax, that the whole amounted to the summe of an hundred thousand pounds. The moonks of the Cisteaux order, otherwise called White Moonks, were constreined to paie 40 thousand pounds of silver at this time, all their privileges to the contrarie notwithstanding. Moreover, the abbats of that order might not get licence to go their generall chapter that yeere, which yeerelie was used to be holden, least their complaint should moove all the world against the king, for his too too hard and severe handling of them.” (Holinshed, vol. iii. p. 174, 1586 edition.)
This act of spoliation belonged to the period of the six years’ Interdict. The Interdict was pronounced on Passion Sunday, March 23, 1208, “which,” says Roger of Wendover, “since it was expressed to be by authority of our Lord the Pope, was inviolably observed by all without regard of persons or privileges. Therefore, all church services ceased to be performed in England, with the exception only of confession; the viaticum in cases of extremity; and the baptism of children: the bodies of the dead, too, were carried out of cities and towns, and buried in roads and ditches without prayers or the attendance of priests.”
KING JOHN HUNTINGFrom MS. in British Museum—Claudius D2 (Cotton).
At the beginning of the Interdict, the solemn silence of the church bells, the closing of the church gates, the cessation of all religious rites at a time when nothing was done without religion taking her part, struck terror into the minds of all folk. But as time went on and the people became accustomed to live without religion, this terror wore itself away. One understands very plainly that an Interdict too long maintained and too rigorously carried out might result in the destruction of religion itself. We must also remember, first, that the Interdict was in many places only partially observed, and in other places was not observed at all. Some of the Bishops remained on the King’s side; some of the clergy were rewarded for disobeying the Interdict. And in London and elsewhere there were relaxations. Thus, marriages and churchings took place at church doors; children were baptized in the church; offerings might be made at the altar: in the Monastic Houses the canonical hours were observed, but there was no singing. In a word, though the close connection of religious observances with the daily life made the Interdict grievous, there can be no doubt that its burden was felt less and less the longer it was maintained. Moreover, the King afforded the City a proof that the longer the Interdict lasted the richer and more powerful he would become: a fact which would certainly weaken the terror of the Church, while it might make the King’s subjects uneasy as to their liberties; for John confiscated all the property of the Church that he could lay his hands upon. “The King’s agents,” says Roger of Wendover, “converted the property of the Bishops to the King’s use, giving them only a scanty allowance of food and clothing out of their own property. The coin of the clergy was everywhere locked up and distrained for the benefit of the revenue: the concubines of the priests and clerks were taken by the King’s servants and compelled to ransom themselves at great expense. Religious men and other persons ordained, of any kind, when found travelling on the road, were dragged from their horses, robbed, and basely ill-treated by the satellites of the King, and no one could do them justice. About that time the servants of a certain sheriff on the confines of Wales came to the King, bringing in their custody a robber with his hands tied behind him, who had robbed and murdered a priest on the road: and on their asking the King what it was his pleasure should be done to the robber in such a case, the King immediately answered,‘He hath slain an enemy of mine. Release him, and let him go!’”
In the year 1210 the Town Ditch was dug for the greater strengthening of the City.
A PORTION OF THE GREAT CHARTERFrom the copy of original in British Museum. Rischgitz Collection.
In 1213 the Standard Bearer of the City, Robert FitzWalter, one of the malcontent Barons, fled to France rather than give a security of his fidelity to John the King, whereupon John ordered his castle—Baynard’s Castle—to be destroyed. This castle stood at the angle in the junction of Thames and Fleet. The second Baynard’s Castle, erected by the Duke of Gloucester, was some little distance to the east, also on the bank of the river.
The leader of the Barons was this Robert FitzWalter, “Marshal of the Army of God and of Holy Church.” He was Castellain of London, Chief Banneret of the City, Baron of Dunmow, owner of Baynard’s Castle, and of a soke which now forms the parish of St. Andrew by the Wardrobe. As Castellain and Banneret it was his duty to direct the execution of traitors by drowning in the Thames. At the Court of Husting his place was on the right hand of the Mayor. In time of war the Castellain proceeded to the western gate of St. Paul’s, attended by nineteen knights mounted and armed, his banner borne before him. The Mayor and Aldermen came forth to meet him, all in arms, the Mayor carrying the City banner, which he placed in FitzWalter’s hands, at the same time giving him a charger fully caparisoned valued at £20. A sum of £20 was also given to FitzWalter for his expenses. The Mote bell was then rung, and the whole party rode to the Priory of the Holy Trinity, there to concert measures for the defence of the City.
The events which led to the concession of Magna Charta belong to the history of the country. But the part played by London in this memorable event must not be passed over.
The Barons, under FitzWalter, were besieging Northampton when letters arrived from certain citizens of London offering their admission into the City, no doubt on terms and conditions. The chance of getting the chief city of the country into their power was too good to be refused. A large company of soldiers took back the Barons’ answer. They were admitted within the walls secretly; according to one Chronicle, at night and by scaling the wall; according to another, by day, and on Sunday morning, the people being at mass; according to another, openly and by Aldgate. Once in the City, however, they seized and held the gates and proclaimed rebellion against the King, murdering his partisans. Then the Barons themselves entered London. From this stronghold they threatened destruction to such of the Lords as had not joined their confederacy. And for a time all government ceased; there were no pleas heard in the Courts; the Sheriffs no longer attempted to carry out their duties; no one paid tax dues, tolls, or customs. The King, at one time reduced to a personal following of half a dozen, found himself unable to make any resistance; and on the glorious June 15, 1215, Magna Charta was signed.
The Barons, who retained London by way of security, returned to the City and there remained for twelve months, but in doubt and anxiety as to what the King would do next. That he would loyally carry out his promises no one expected. He was sending ambassadors to Rome seeking the Pope’s aid; and he was living with a few attendants in the Isle of Wight, or on the sea-coast near the Cinque Ports, currying favour with the sailors.
The rest is national history. The Barons appear to have spent their time in banqueting while the King was acting. Presently they found that the King had become once more strong enough to meet them. Indeed, he attempted to besiege London, but was compelled to abandon the enterprise by the courageous bearing of the citizens, who threw open their gates and sallied forth. The Barons were excommunicated; the City was once more laid under an Interdict; these measures produced no effect, but the Barons clearly perceived that their only hope lay in setting up another king. They therefore invited Louis, son of the French King, to come over; and then John died.
To return to the grant of Magna Charta. Its effects upon the liberties of the people have been thus summarised by George Norton in his Historical Account of London:—
“This charter has become the very alphabet of the language of freedom and proverbialized in the mouths of Englishmen.... Merchants could now transact their business without being exposed to arbitrary tolls: the King’s Court for Common Pleas should no longer follow his person but be stationary in one place: that circuits should be established and held every year: and that the inferior local courts should be held only at their regular and appointed times ... that the Sheriffs should not be allowed in their districts to hold the pleas of the crown: that no aids should be demanded of the people except by consent of Parliament and in the three cases of the King’s captivity, the making his son a knight, and the marriage of his daughter. And lastly, as an object of national concern, it was expressly provided that London and all the cities and boroughs of the kingdom should preserve their ancient liberties, immunities and free customs.”
The words which Norton describes as the alphabet of freedom are the following:—
“Nullus liber homo capiatur vel imprisonetur, aut disseisiatur de libero tenemento suo, vel libertatibus, vel consuetudinibus suis, aut utlagetur aut exulet aut aliquo modo destruatur: nec super eum ibimus, nec super eum mittimus, nisi per legale judicium parium suorum vel per legem terrae. Nulli vendemus: nulli negabimus, aut differemus rectum vel Justitiam.”
CHAPTER IVHENRY III
John was succeeded by his son Henry, then a boy of nine. The death of their enemy brought back the Barons to their allegiance: forty of them at once went over to the young King, the rest followed one by one. Louis was left almost alone in London with his Frenchmen. The pride and arrogance of the foreigners went far to disgust the English and inclined them to return to their loyalty. After the defeat at Lincoln, Louis found himself blockaded within the City walls, unable to get out, and, unless relief came, likely to be starved into submission. This is the second instance in history of the City being blockaded both by land and sea: the first being that siege in which Cnut brought his ships round the Bridge. The Thames was closed: the roads were closed: no provisions could be brought into the City by river or by road. And when a fleet, sent by the French King to the assistance of his son, was defeated by Hubert de Burgh off Dover, whatever chance the Prince might have had on his arrival was gone. Louis made terms. He stipulated for an amnesty for the citizens of London: on the strength of that amnesty, or as the price of it, he borrowed 5000 marks (or perhaps £1000) of them and so returned to France.
The young King was received by the citizens with the usual demonstrations of exuberant joy. Had they known what a terrible half-century awaited them, they would have been less demonstrative.
A Parliament was held at London as soon as Louis had gone: the care of the young King, whose mother had already married again, was committed to the Bishop of Winchester.
The new buildings at Westminster were commenced by the Bishop of Winchester as one of the first of Henry’s acts.
The story of the wrestling match which belongs to the year 1221 throws some light upon the internal conditions of the City. In itself it had no political significance except to show the readiness with which a mob can be raised on small provocation and the mischief which may follow. It was on St. James’s Day that sports were held in St. Giles’s Fields near the Leper Hospital. The young men of London contended with those of the “suburbs,” especially those of Westminster. Those who have witnessed a great football match in the North of England will understand the intense and passionate interest with which each “event” was followed by the mass of onlookers. A gladiatorial combat was not more warlike than the wrestling of these young men. The Londoners came out best in this match, whereupon the Steward of Westminster, according to the account, resolved upon revenge, and a very unsportsmanlike revenge he took. For he invited the young men of London to a return match. They accepted, suspecting nothing; they went unarmed to Tothill Fields, ready to renew the bloodless contest: they were received, not by wrestlers, but by armed men, who fell upon them and wounded them grievously, and so drove them back to the City. One feels that this story is incomplete, and on the face of it impossible. Holinshed’s account of what happened in consequence is as follows:—
CORONATION OF HENRY III.From MS. in British Museum—Vitellius A. XIII.
“The citizens, sore offended to see their people so misused, rose in tumult, and rang the common bell to gather the more companies to them. Robert Serle, mayor of the Citie, would have pacified the matter, persuading them to let the injurie passe till by orderlie plaint they might get redresse, as law and justice should assigne. But a certeine stout man of the Citie named Constantine FitzArnulfe, of good authoritie amongst them, advised the multitude not to harken unto peace, but to seeke revenge out of hand (wherein he shewed himselfe so farre from true manhood, that he bewraied himselfe rather to have a woman’s heart),—
