Part 12

On the river-bank, exactly under what is now Cannon Street Railway Station, stood the Steelyard, Guildæ Aula Teutonicorum. In appearance it was a house of stone, with a quay towards the river, a square court, a noble Hall, and three arched gates towards Thames Street. This was the house of the Hanseatic League, whose merchants for three hundred years and more enjoyed the monopoly of importing hemp, corn, wax, steel, linen cloths, and, in fact, carried on the whole trade with Germany and the Baltic, so that until the London merchants pushed out their ships into the Mediterranean and the Levant their foreign trade was small, and their power of gaining wealth small in proportion. This strange privilege granted to foreigners grew by degrees. At first, unless the foreign merchants of the Hanse towns and of Flanders and of France had not brought over their wares they could not have sold them, because there were no London merchants to import them. Therefore they came, and they came to stay. They gradually obtained privileges; they were careful to obey the laws, and give no cause for jealousy or offence; and they kept their privileges, living apart in their own college, till Edward VI. at last took them away. In memory of their long residence in the city, the merchants of Hamburg in the reign of Queen Anne presented the church where they had worshipped, All Hallows the Great, with a magnificent screen of carved wood. The church, built by Wren after the Fire, is a square box of no architectural pretensions, but is glorified by this screen.

The great (comparative) wealth of the City is shown by the proportion it was called upon to pay towards the king's loans. In 1397, for instance, London was assessed at £6,666 13_s._ 4_d._, while Bristol, which came next, was called upon for £800 only; Norwich for £333, Boston for £300, and Plymouth for no more than £20. And in the graduated poll tax of 1379, the Lord Mayor of London had to pay £4--the same as an Earl, a Bishop, or a mitred Abbot, while the Aldermen were regarded as on the same line with Barons, and paid £2 each.

Between the merchant adventurers, who sometimes entertained kings and had a fleet of ships always on the sea, and the retail trader there was as great a gulf then as at any after-time. Between the retail trader, who was an employer of labor, and the craftsman there was a still greater gulf. The former lived in plenty and in comfort. His house was provided with a spacious hearth, and windows, of which the upper part, at least, was of glass. The latter lived in one of the mean and low tenements, which, according to Dr. Brewer, made up the whole of London. There were a great many of those, because there are always a great many poor in a large town. Nay, there were narrow lanes and filthy courts where there were nothing but one-storied hovels, built of wattle and clay, the roof thatched with reeds, the fire burning in the middle of the room, the occupants sleeping in old Saxon fashion, wrapped in rugs around the central fire. The lanes and courts were narrow and unpaved, and filthy with every kind of refuse. In those crowded and fetid streets the plague broke out, fevers always lingered, the children died of putrid throat, and in these places began the devastating fires that from time to time swept the City.

The main streets of the City were not mean at all; they were broad, well built, picturesque. If here and there a small tenement reared its timbered and plastered front among the tall gables, it added to the beauty of the street; it broke the line. Take Chepe, for instance, the principal seat of retail trade. At the western end stood the Church of St. Michael le Quern where Paternoster Row begins. On the north side were the churches of St. Peter West Chepe, St. Thomas Acon, St. Mary Cole Church, and St. Mildred. On the south side were the churches of St. Mary le Bow and St. Mary Woolchurch. In the streets running north and south rose the spires of twenty other churches. On the west side of St. Mary le Bow stood a long stone gallery, from which the Queen and her ladies could witness the tournaments and the ridings. In the middle was the "Standard," with a conduit of fresh-water; there were two crosses, one being that erected by Edward I., to mark a resting-place of his dead Queen. Round the "Standard" were booths. At the west end of Chepe were _selds_, which are believed to have been open bazaars for the sale of goods. Another cross stood at the west end, close to St. Michael le Quern. Here executions of citizens were held; on its broad road the knights rode in tilt on great days; the stalls were crowded with those who came to look on and to buy, the street was noisy with the voices of those who displayed their wares and called upon the folk to buy--buy--buy. You may hear the butchers in Clare Market or the costers in Whitecross Street keeping up the custom to the present day. The citizens walked and talked; the Alderman went along in state, accompanied by his officers; they brought out prisoners and put them into the pillory; the church bells clashed, and chimed, and tolled; bright cloth of scarlet hung from the upper windows if it was a feast day, or if the Mayor and Aldermen had a riding; the streets were bright with the colors of that many-colored time, when the men vied with the women in bravery of attire, and when all classes spent upon raiment sums of money, in proportion to the rest of their expenditure, which sober nineteenth-century folk can hardly believe. Chaucer is full of the extravagance in dress. There is the young squire--

Embroidered was he as if it were a mead All full of freshest flowers, white and red.

[Illustration: NORTH-EAST VIEW OF CROSBY HALL, SHOWING PART OF THE INTERIOR OF THE GREAT HALL.]

Or the carpenter's wife--

A seynt [girdle] she wered barred all of silk In barm cloth eke as white as mornë milk Upon her lendes [loins] full of many a gore. White was her smock and browded all before, And eke behind on her coler about Of cole black silk within and eke without.

Or the wife of Bath, with her scarlet stockings and her fine kerchiefs. And the knights decked their horses as gayly as themselves. And the city notables went clad in gowns of velvet or silk lined with fur; their hats were of velvet with gold lace; their doublets were of rich silk; they carried thick gold chains about their necks, and massive gold rings upon their fingers.

With all this outward show, this magnificence of raiment, these evidences of wealth, would one mark the small tenements which here and there, even in Chepe, stood between the churches and the substantial merchants' houses? We measure the splendors of a city by its best, and not by its worst.

The magnates of London, from generation to generation, showed far more wisdom, tenacity, and clearness of vision than can be found in the annals of Venice, Genoa, or any other mediæval city. Above all things, they maintained the city liberties and the rights obtained from successive kings; yet they were always loyal so long as loyalty was possible; when that was no longer possible, as in the case of Richard II., they threw the whole weight of their wealth and influence into the other side. If fighting was wanted, they were ready to send out their youths to fight--nay, to join the army themselves; witness the story of Sir John Philpot, Mayor in 1378. There was a certain Scottish adventurer named Mercer. This man had gotten together a small fleet of ships, with which he harassed the North Sea and did great havoc among the English merchantmen. Nor could any remonstrance addressed to the Crown effect any redress. What was to be done? Clearly, if trade was to be carried on at all, this enemy must be put down. Therefore, without much ado, the gallant Mayor gathered together at his own expense a company of a thousand stout fellows, put them on board, and sallied forth, himself their admiral, to fight this piratical Scot. He found him, in fact, in Scarborough Bay with his prizes. Sir John fell upon him at once, slew him and most of his men, took all his ships, including the prizes, and returned to the port of London with his spoils, including fifteen Spanish ships which had joined the Scotchman. Next year the king was in want of other help. The arms and armor of a thousand men were in pawn. Sir John took them out. And because the king wanted as many ships as he could get for his expedition into France, Sir John gave him all his own, with Mercer's ships and the Spanish prizes.

[Illustration: GERRARD'S HALL.]

To treat adequately of the foreign trade of the city during these centuries would require a volume. It has, in fact, received more than a single volume.[12] The English merchantman sailed everywhere. There were commercial treaties with Brittany, Burgundy, Portugal, Castile, Genoa, and Venice. English merchants who traded with Prussia were empowered by Henry IV. to meet together and elect a governor for the adjustment of quarrels and the reparation of injuries. The same privilege was extended to those who traded with Holland, Zealand, Brabant, Flanders, Norway, Sweden, and Denmark. The Hanseatic merchants enjoyed the privileges on the condition--not always obtained--that English merchants should have the same rights as the Hanseatic League. It is easy to understand what commodities were imported from these countries. The trade was carried on under the conditions of continued fighting. First the seas swarmed with Scotch; French and Flemish ships were always on the lookout for English merchant vessels--there was no peace on the water. Then there were English pirates known as rovers of the sea, who sailed about, landing on the coasts, pillaging small towns, and robbing farms. Sandwich was burned, Southampton was burned. London protected herself with booms and chains. The merchant vessels for safety sailed in fleets. Again, it was sometimes dangerous to be resident in a foreign town in time of war; in 1429 Bergen was destroyed by the Danes, and the English merchants were massacred; about the same time English seamen ravaged Ireland and murdered the Royal Bailiff; reprisals and quarrels and claims were constantly going on. Yet trade increased, and wealth with it. Other foreign merchants settled in London besides the Hansards. Florentines came to buy wool, and to lend money, and to sell chains and rings and jewelled work. Genoese came to buy alum and woad and to sell weapons. Venetians came to sell spices, drugs, and fine manufactured things.

The grete galleys of Veness and Fflorence Be wel ladene with thynges of complacence, All spicerye and of groceres ware, Wyth swete wynes alle manere of cheffare. Apes and japes and marmettes taylede, Trifles--trifles, that lytel have avaylede. And thynges with wyche they fetely blere our eye, With thynges not enduring that we bye. Ffor moche of thys cheffare that is wastable, Myght be forebore for diere and dissevable.

Towards the end of the fourteenth century began the first grumblings of the great religious storm that was to burst upon the world a hundred years later. The common sort of Londoners, attached to their Church and to its services, were as yet profoundly orthodox and unquestioning. But it is certain that in the year 1393 the Archbishop of York complained formally to the king of the Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs--Whittington was then one of the Sheriffs--that they were _male creduli_, that is, of little faith; upholders of Lollards, detractors of religious persons, detainers of tithes, and defrauders of the poor. When persecutions, however, began in earnest, not a single citizen of position was charged with heresy. Probably the Archbishop's charge was based upon some quarrel over tithes and Church dues. At the same time, no one who has read Chaucer can fail to understand that men's minds were made uneasy by the scandals of religion, the contrast between profession and practice. It required no knowledge of theology to remark that the monk who kept the best of horses in his stable and the best of hounds in his kennel, and rode to the chase as gallantly attired as any young knight, was a strange follower of the Benedictine rule. Nor was it necessary to be a divine in order to compare the lives of the Franciscans with their vows. Yet the authority of the Church seemed undiminished, while its wealth, its estates, its rank, and its privileges gave it enormous power. It is not pretended that the merchants of London were desirous of new doctrines, or of any tampering with the mass, or any lowering of sacerdotal pretensions. Yet there can be no doubt that they desired reform in some shape, and it seems as if they saw the best hope of reform in raising the standard of education. Probably the old monastery schools had fallen into decay. We find, for instance, a simultaneous movement in this direction long before Henry VI. began to found and to endow his schools. Whittington bequeathed a sum of money to create a library for the Grey Friars; his close friend and one of his executors, John Carpenter, Rector of St. Mary Magdalen, founded the City of London School, now more flourishing and of greater use than ever; another friend of Whittington, Sir John Nicol, Master of the College of St. Thomas Acon, petitioned the Parliament for leave to establish four schools; Whittington's own company, the Mercers, founded a school--which still exists--upon his death. The merchants rebuilt churches, bought advowsons and gave them to the corporation, founded charities, and left doctrine to scholars. Yet the century which contains such men as Wycliff, Chaucer, Gower, Occleve, William of Wykeham, Fabian, and others, was not altogether one of blind and unquestioning obedience. And it is worthy of remark that the first Master of Whittington's Hospital was that Reginald Pecock who afterwards, as Bishop of Chichester, was charged with Lollardism, and imprisoned for life as a punishment. He was kept in a single closed chamber in Thorney Abbey, Isle of Ely. He was never allowed out of this room; no one was to speak with him except the man who waited upon him; he was to have neither paper, pen, ink, or books, except a Bible, a mass-book, a psalter, and a legendary.

[Illustration: BRIDEWELL PALACE, ABOUT 1660, WITH THE ENTRANCE TO THE FLEET RIVER, PART OF THE BLACK FRIARS, ETC.]

Among the city worthies of that time may be introduced Sir William Walworth, the slayer of Jack Cade; Sir William Sevenoke, the first known instance of the poor country lad of humble birth working his way to the front; he was also the first to found and endow a grammar-school for his native town; Sir Robert Chichele, whose brother Henry was Archbishop of Canterbury and founder of All Souls', Oxford; this Robert, whose house was on the site of Bakers' Hall in Harp Lane, provided by his will that on his commemoration day two thousand four hundred poor householders of the city should be regaled with a dinner and have twopence in money; Sir John Rainwell, who left houses and lands to discharge the tax called the Fifteenth in three parishes; Sir John Wells, who brought water from Tyburn; and Sir William Estfield, who brought water from Highbury. Other examples show that the time for endowing monasteries had passed away. When William Elsing, early in the fourteenth century, thought of doing something with his money, he did not leave it to the Franciscans for masses, but he endowed a hospital for a hundred blind men; and a few years later John Barnes gave the city a strong box with three locks, containing a thousand marks, which were to be lent to young men beginning business--an excellent gift. When there was a great dearth of grain, it was the Lord Mayor who fitted out ships at his own expense and brought corn from Prussia, which lowered the price of flour by one-half. In the acts of these grave magistrates one can read the deep love they bore to the City, their earnest striving for the administration with justice of just laws, for the maintenance of good work, for the relief of the poor, for the provision of water, and for education. Lollardism was nothing to them. What concerned them in religion was the luxury, the sloth, and the scandalous lives of the religious. Order they loved, because it is only by the maintenance of order that a city can flourish. Honesty in work of all kinds they loved, so that while they hated the man who pretended to do true work and proffered false work, it grieved and shamed them to see one who professed the life of purity wallow in wickedness, like a hog in mud. Obedience they required, because without obedience there is no government. As for the working-man, the producer, the servant, having any share in the profits or any claim to payment beyond his wage, such a thought never entered the head of Whittington or Sevenoke. They were rulers; they were masters; they paid the wage; they laid their hands upon the profits.

[Illustration: THE THAMES FRONT, A.D. 1540]

Tradition--which is always on the side of the weak--maintains that the great merchants of the past, for the most part, made their way upward from the poorest and most penniless conditions. They came from the plough-tail or from the mechanic's shop; they entered the city paved with gold, friendless, with no more than twopence, if so much, in their pockets; they received scant favor and put up with rough fare. Then tradition makes a jump, and shows them, on the next lifting of the curtain, prosperous, rich, and in great honor. The typical London merchant is Dick Whittington, whose history was blazoned in the cheap books for all to read. One is loath to disturb venerable beliefs, but the facts of history are exactly the opposite. The merchant adventurer, diligent in his business, and therefore rewarded, as the wise man prophesied for him, by standing before princes, though he began life as a prentice, also began it as a gentleman. He belonged, at the outset, to a good family, and had good friends both in the country and the town. Piers Plowman never could and never did rise to great eminence in the city. The exceptions, which are few indeed, prove the rule. Against such a case as Sevenoke, the son of poor parents, who rose to be Lord Mayor, we have a hundred others in which the successful merchant starts with the advantage of gentle birth. Take, for example, the case of Whittington himself.

He was the younger son of a Gloucestershire country gentleman, Sir William Whittington, a knight who was outlawed for some offence. His estate was at a village called Pauntley. In the church may still be seen the shield of Whittington impaling Fitzwarren--Richard's wife was Alice Fitzwarren. His mother belonged to the well-known Devonshire family of Mansell, and was a cousin of the Fitzwarrens. The Whittingtons were thus people of position and consideration, of knightly rank, _armigeri_, living on their own estates, which were sufficient but not large.

For a younger son in the fourteenth century the choice of a career was limited. He might enter the service of a great lord and follow his fortunes. In that turbulent time there was fighting to be had at home as well as in France, and honor to be acquired, with rank and lands, by those who were fortunate. He might join the livery of the king. He might enter the Church: but youths of gentle blood did not in the fourteenth century flock readily to the Church. He might remain on the family estate and become a bailiff. He might go up to London and become a lawyer. There were none of the modern professions--no engineers, architects, bankers, journalists, painters, novelists, or dramatists; but there was trade.

Young Dick Whittington therefore chose to follow trade; rather that line of life was chosen for him. He was sent to London under charge of carriers, and placed in the house of his cousin, Sir John Fitzwarren, also a gentleman before he was a merchant, as an apprentice. As he married his master's daughter, it is reasonable to suppose that he inherited a business, which he subsequently improved and developed enormously. If we suppose a single man to be the owner of the Cunard Line of steamers, running the cargoes on his own venture and for his own profit, we may understand something of Whittington's position in the city. The story of the cat is persistently attached to his name; it begins immediately after his death; it was figured on the buildings which his executors erected; it formed part of the decorations of the family mansion at Gloucester. It is therefore impossible to avoid the conclusion that he did himself associate the sale of a cat--then a creature of some value and rarity--with the foundation of his fortunes. Here, however, we have only to do with the fact that Whittington was of gentle birth, and that he was apprenticed to a man also of gentle birth.

[Illustration: ANCIENT COURT OF BRIDEWELL PALACE]

Here, again, is another proof of my assertion that the London merchant was generally a gentleman. That good old antiquary, Stow, to whom we owe so much, not only gives an account of all the monuments in the city churches, with the inscriptions and verses which were graven upon them, but he also describes the shields of all those who were _armigeri_--entitled to carry arms. Remember that a shield was not a thing which could in those days be assumed at pleasure. The Heralds made visitations of the counties, and examined into the pretensions of every man who bore a coat of arms. You were either entitled to a coat of arms or you were not. To parade a shield without a proper title was much as if a man should in these days pretend to be an Earl or a Baronet. If one wants a shield it is only necessary now to invent one; or the Heralds' College will with great readiness connect a man with some knightly family and so confer a title: formerly the Herald could only invent or find a coat of arms by order of the Sovereign, the Fountain of Honor. By granting a shield, let us remember, the king admitted another family into the first rank of gentlehood. For instance, when the news of Captain Cook's death reached England, King George III. granted a coat of arms to his family, who were thereby promoted to the first stage of nobility. This, however, seems to have been the last occasion of such a grant.