Sanitation

Having considered the condition of medical practice at the hospitals and among private patients, and having also reviewed the particulars of some of the chief epidemics, we shall now be better able to understand the sanitary condition of mediæval London, and the means taken to keep it clean. There can be little doubt that strenuous attempts were made at different periods to improve its condition.

We may allow at once that old London was not a clean or healthy town, as we understand these words now, but there can be little doubt that it was in advance of most other towns.

Dr. Poore is rather severe in his estimate of the health of mediæval London; he considers the situation of the city fairly good from a sanitary point of view. It was not healthy, however, because of its marshy surroundings. Ague and dysentery were always present and very fatal. Scurvy was very prevalent before the introduction of the potato by Hawkins.[186]

William Clowes, the well-known Elizabethan surgeon of St. Bartholomew’s, was also surgeon to Christ’s Hospital, and in his day twenty or thirty children had the scurvy at a time in the latter house, a fact due to a diet largely composed of fish and other salted provisions, with a scanty allowance of vegetables.

‘There can be no doubt that down to the commencement of the present century London was a veritable fever-bed, the causes of death being largely malarial fever, spotted or typhus fever, plague, small-pox, measles, scarlet fever, and whooping cough, the two latter being comparatively recent introductions.’[187]

Another source of the unhealthiness of London is supposed by Dr. Poore to be due to a soil soaked with the filth of centuries, by which means the wells were probably infected.

Dr. Creighton takes a much more favourable view of the condition of London, and he writes: ‘Nuisances certainly existed in mediæval London, but it is equally certain that they were not tolerated without limit.’[188] It is also probable that the polluted condition of the soil inside and outside the houses has been greatly exaggerated.

There was overcrowding in some quarters of London, but in most parts there were gardens and plenty of fresh air. Many of the streets were used as markets, and they were mostly left in a very untidy state, but attempts were made to cleanse them.

The worst parts of the town were the lanes leading down to the river. The bad state of these places was constantly complained of, but we must always remember that complaints and legal actions are evidence to some extent that in the end the evils were abated.

Very little is recorded when affairs go straight, as all are contented to let them remain as they are, but when things go wrong we are all anxious to raise complaints, and too much weight must not be given to the supposed universality of these evils. We do not judge of the general manners and morals of the country by the cases in the law courts and the police courts.

Some of the evils, of which a description has come down to us, were doubtless the cause of remedial measures being adopted. The streets soon after the Conquest must have been in a very rotten condition, if we are to judge from some accounts that have come down to us.

Stow relates in his Chronicle that in the great tempest of November 17, 1090, when 606 houses were beaten down by the wind in London, the roof of St. Mary le Bow in Cheapside ‘being raised with the beames thereof were carryed in the ayre a great while, and at the last sixe of the sayde beames were driven with their fall so fast in the ground, that there appeared of some of them the seventh, and of some the eyght part, to wit, but foure foote above the ground; which beames or rafters were seaven and twentie or eyght and twentie foote long, which was a wonderful to see them so pierce the ground [not paved then with stone], and there to stand in such order as the workmen hadde placed them on the church.’ There these beams remained as obstructions until they were cut even with the ground.

Little appears to have been done in general sanitation until the reign of Henry III., but it has been said that the sanitary reforms of the reign of Edward I. were as great as the reforms effected in the law and constitution. It is satisfactory to learn that it was the example of this great King which made the use of the bath popular among his subjects. In Riley’s Memorials there are several references to sanitary ordinances at this time. In 1281 regulations were made that no swine and no stand or timber were from henceforth to be found in the streets. The swine were to be killed and the stands and timber forfeited. Melters of tallow and lard were turned out of their warehouses in Cheapside in 1283. The watercourse of Walbrook was to be made free from dung and other nuisances in 1288. Swine still wandered about the streets, and in 1292 four men whose names are given in Letter Book C were elected and sworn ‘to take and kill such swine as should be found wandering in the King’s highway, to whomsoever they might belong, within the walls of the city and the suburbs thereof.’ The Earl of Lincoln complained to Parliament in 1307 as to the state of the River Fleet, and the gist of his complaint is reported by Stow: ‘Whereas in times past, the course of water running at London under Holborne bridge and Fleete bridge into the Thamis, had beene of such large breadth and depth, that ten or twelve ships at once with merchandises were wont to come to the foresaide bridge of Fleete and some of them to Holborne bridge; now the same course (by filth of the tanners and such other) was sore decayed. Also by raysing up of wharffes, but especially by turning of the water, which they of ye new Temple made to their milles without Baynard Castle, and divers other perturbations, the said shippes now could not enter as they were wont, and as they ought, wherefore hee desired that the Maior of London, with the Sheriffes and certaine discreete Aldermen, might be appointed to see the course of the said water, and that by oth of honest men all the foresaid hindrances might be removed, and to bee made as it was wont of old time.’[189]

In the second year of Edward II.’s reign (1309) a proclamation was issued for cleansing the streets, which were more encumbered with filth than they used to be, and penalties were enforced against those who neglected their duty in this matter.[190] Between forty and fifty years after this we have evidence that one of the main thoroughfares of the city was in a very bad state. On August 22, 1358, Isabella, the widowed Queen of Edward II., died at Hertford Castle, and in the following November she was buried in the Church of the Grey Friars. In order that the passage of the body through the city should be carried out with any decency, it was necessary to enact that Bishopsgate Street and Aldgate Street should be cleansed of ordure and other filth.[191]

Dr. Creighton criticises the public regulations, and writes: ‘There are several orders of Edward III. relating to the removal of laystalls and to keeping the town ditch clean, which show, of course, that there was neglect, but at the same time disposition to correct it. It is farther obvious that the connection between nuisances and the public health was clearly apprehended. The sanitary doctrines of modern times were undreamt of; nor did the circumstances altogether call for them. The sewers of those days were banked-up watercourses, or shores, as the word was pronounced, which ran uncovered down the various declivities of the city to the town ditch and to the Thames. They would have sufficed to carry off the refuse of a population of some forty or sixty thousand; they were, at all events, freely open to the greatest of all purifying agents, the oxygen of the air; and they poisoned neither the water of the town ditch (which abounds in excellent fish within John Stow’s memory), nor the waters of Thames.’[192]

This seems exactly to explain the sanitary condition of the city, and we must never forget that the streets were cleared by means of surface drainage, which carried the refuse of the city to the river, to find its way to the sea at last. The streets were evidently fairly well attended to in ordinary times, and it is not for those who have polluted the Thames and made the streams into covered sewers to point the finger of scorn at the evils allowed by their ancestors, who at all events kept the Thames pure.

The proclamations and ordinances issued for the proper cleansing of the streets of London were very numerous, but the first sanitary act that appears in the Statutes of the Realm was passed in the seventeenth year of Richard II. (1388), the preamble of which Dr. Creighton prints.[193] From this and other sources, it appears that one of the chief evils complained of was due to the blood and offal in the shambles of Newgate Street.

It is impossible to mention here all the information that has come down to us as to what was done to secure a satisfactory sanitation, but special reference may be made to the useful abstract in Riley’s Introduction to the Liber Albus.[194]

‘Kennels were pretty generally made about a century after the date of Fitz-Ailwine’s Assize, on either side of the street (leaving a space for the footpath), for the purpose of carrying off the sewage and rain water. There were two kennels in Cheapside at a period even when nearly the whole of the north side was a vacant space. The kennels, too, of Cornhill are frequently mentioned. By reiterated enactments it was ordered that the highways should be kept clean from rubbish, hay, straw, sawdust, dung, and other refuse. Each householder was to clear away all dirt from his door, and to be equally careful not to place it before that of his neighbours. No one was to throw water or anything else out of the windows, but was to bring the water down and pour it into the street. An exception, however, to this last provision seems to have been made in the case of fishmongers, for we find injunctions frequently issued... that they shall on no account throw their dirty water into the streets, but shall have the same carried to the river.’

It was the duty of each alderman to cause to be elected in Wardmote four respectable men to keep the roads clean and free from obstructions.[195] The same duties were carried out at another time by a Court of Scavagers, who apparently were originally Custom House officers. The scavagers had to see that the work was done, and the labourers who actually cleansed the streets were called ‘Rakyers.’ In an Ordinance of the time of Edward III. we learn that twelve carts, each with two horses, were kept at the expense of the city for the removal of sewage and refuse.[196]

CHAPTER VIII
The Governors of the City

‘London claims the first place... as the greatest municipality, as the model on which, by their charters of liberties, the other large towns of the country were allowed or charged to adjust their usages, and as the most active, the most political, and the most ambitious. London has also a pre-eminence in municipal history owing to the strength of the conflicting elements which so much effected her constitutional progress.’—Stubbs, Constitutional History of England, chap. xxi. par. 486.

THE history of the early government of the city is full of pitfalls for the historian. For years an account of what occurred before the establishment of the mayoralty was generally accepted, which later research has proved to be entirely erroneous. Careful students of early documents have lately given us information of the greatest value, but we still wait for more facts.

In the following pages an attempt will now be made to place before the reader a short statement of what is known, with some indication of what we still have to learn. Fortunately, there is no lack of students who are constantly adding to our knowledge, and as in the last few years considerable discoveries have been published, there is every reason to hope that in the future other discoveries will be made equal at least in importance to those which have been made in the past.

We know remarkably little as to how the government of London was carried on before the Conquest, but probably the course of procedure was not very different from what was the practice immediately after that great event.

When William the Conqueror granted the first charter to London, he addressed the Bishop and the Portreeve.[197] The former as ecclesiastical governor, and the latter as the civil governor.

It has been a generally received opinion that there was a succession of portreeves until the first appointment of a Mayor, but Mr. Round believes that the title of portreeve disappears after the Conqueror’s charter.[198] In this opinion he is opposed to the view of both Bishop Stubbs and Mr. Loftie. It is necessary to bear in mind that a reeve was an officer appointed by the King, just as the sheriffs (or shire reeves) of the various counties are still so appointed. There has been some difference of opinion as to the meaning of the title Port-reeve. It might at first sight be supposed to refer to the Port of London, but this is not the received opinion. Bishop Stubbs writes: ‘The word port in port-reeve is the Latin porta (not portus), where the markets were held, and although used for the city generally, seems to refer to it specially in its character of a mart or city of merchants.’[199]

The City of London obtained from Henry I. the right of appointing their own sheriffs, which was a very great privilege, and there must have been some very strong reason to induce the King to grant this great favour. Bishop Stubbs writes of this charter of Henry I. to the citizens of London: ‘The privileges of the citizens of London are not to be regarded as a fair specimen of the liberties of ordinary towns, but as a sort of type and standard of the amount of municipal independence and self-government at which the other towns of the country might be expected to aim. At a period at which the other towns were just struggling out of the condition of demesne, the Londoners were put in possession of the ferm or farm of Middlesex, with the right of appointing the sheriff; they were freed from the immediate jurisdiction of any tribunal except of their own appointment, from several universal imposts, from the obligation to accept trial by battle, from liability to misericordia or entire forfeiture, as well as from tolls and local exactions such as ordinary charters specify. They have also their separate franchises secured and their weekly courts, but they have not yet the character of a perpetual corporation or Communa, and thus although possessing, by virtue of their associations in guilds, of their several franchises, of their feudal courts, and of their shire organisation under the sheriff, many elements of strength, consolidation and independence, they have not a compact organisation as a municipal body. The city is an accumulation of distinct and different corporate bodies, but not yet a perfect municipality, nor although it was recognised in the reign of Stephen as a Communio, did it gain the legal status before the reign of Richard I.’[200] Mr. Round shows, however, that the city possessed the privilege only for a short time: ‘We see then that in absolute contradiction of the received belief on the subject, the shrievalty was not in the hands of the citizens during the twelfth century (i.e., from ‘1101’), but was held by them for a few years only, about the close of the reign of Henry I. The fact that the sheriffs of London and Middlesex were, under Henry II. and Richard I. appointed throughout by the Crown, must compel our historians to reconsider the independent position they have assigned to the city at that early period. The Crown, moreover, must have had an object in retaining this appointment in its hands. We may find it, I think, in that jealousy of exceptional privilege or exemption which characterised the régime of Henry II. For, as I have shown, the charters to Geoffrey remind us that the ambition of the urban communities was analogous to that of the great feudatories, in so far as they both strove for exemption from official rule. It was precisely to this ambition that Henry II. was opposed; and thus, when he granted his charter to London, he wholly omitted, as we have seen, two of his grandfather’s concessions, and narrowed down those that remained, that they might not be operative outside the actual walls of the city. When the shrievalty was restored by John to the citizens (1199) the concession had lost its chief importance through the triumph of the communal principle.’[201]

Mr. Round holds that the office of Justiciar of London was created by Henry I.’s charter, and as that officer took precedence of the sheriff he must have been for a time the chief authority of the city. Mr. Round’s explanation of this position is of so much importance that it is necessary to quote it here in his own words: ‘The transient existence of the local justitiarius is a phenomenon of great importance, which has been wholly misunderstood. The Mandeville charters afford the clue to the nature of this office. It represents a middle term, a transitional stage between the essentially local shire-reeve and the central justice of the King’s court.... The justitiarius for Essex or Herts, or London or Middlesex, was a purely local officer, and yet exercised within the limits of his bailiwick all the authority of the King’s justice. So transient was this state of things that scarcely a trace of it remains.... Now, in the case of London, the office was created by the charter of Henry I. (as I contend) towards the end of his reign, and it expired with the accession of Henry II. It is, therefore, in Stephen’s reign that we should expect to find it in existence, and it is precisely in that reign that we find the office eo nomine twice granted to the Earl of Essex and twice mentioned as held by Gervase, otherwise Gervase of Cornhill.’[202]

The question of the date of the charter of Henry I. is discussed in Geoffrey de Mandeville (p. 364), and reasons are given for dating it after 1130 instead of 1100 or 1101.

Bishop Stubbs specially refers to the foreign element in London at this time thus: ‘Richard the son of Reiner, the son of Berengar, was very probably a Lombard by descent; the influential family of Bucquinte, Bucca-uncta, which took the lead on many occasions, can hardly have been other than Italian; Gilbert Becket was a Norman.’ And further, in a note, he adds: ‘Andrew of London, the leader of the Londoners at Lisbon in 1147, is not improbably the Andrew Bucquinte whose son Richard was the leader of the riotous young nobles of the city who in 1177 furnished a precedent for the Mohawks of the eighteenth century.’[203] Andrew, who was present at the transference of the Cnihtengild’s land to the Priory of Holy Trinity (1125 or 1126), was one of the witnesses of the agreement between Ramsay Abbey and Holy Trinity after that date, where his name is written ‘Bocunte.’[204] He was Justiciar of London in Stephen’s reign.[205] The Buccarelli were another Italian family whose name is said to be preserved in Bucklersbury, and Round also mentions Osbert Octodenarii (otherwise Huitdeniers), a kinsman and employer of Becket.

The origin of the Commune of London has always been an exceedingly obscure problem, but Mr. Round has succeeded in throwing a flood of light upon the subject.

In the twelfth century there was a great municipal movement over Europe. Londoners were well informed as to what was going on abroad, and thoroughly dissatisfied with the existing organisation they waited and were constantly looking for an opportunity of obtaining the privileges of the Commune. Mr. Round points out that ‘even so early as 1141, when the fortunes of the Crown hung in the balance between rival claimants, we find the citizens forming an effective Conjuratio, the very term applied to their “Commune” half a century later by Richard of Devizes. Moreover, earlier in the same year (April), William of Malmesbury applies to their government the term Communio.[206] Miss Mary Bateson has gone to the manuscript from which Mr. Round obtained the Oath of Commune (B.M. Add. MS., 14,252), and her conclusion after consideration is that ‘the collection as a whole leaves the impression that “Communio quam vocant Londoniarum” (1141), as it is styled by William of Malmesbury, was not merely a unit in the eyes of the Exchequer, that the jurisdictional unity of the city organised in folkmoot and husting gave something substantial whereon the foundations of mayoralty and Commune could be laid.’[207]

Mr. Round writes: ‘The assumption that the mayoralty of London dates from the accession of Richard I. (1189) is an absolute perversion of history,’ and he adds that ‘there is record evidence which completely confirms the remarkable words of Richard of Devizes, who declares that on no terms whatever would King Richard or his father have ever assented to the establishment of the Communa in London.’[208]

In October 1191 the conflict between John, the King’s brother, and Longchamp, the King’s representative, became acute. William of Longchamp, Bishop of Ely (1189) and Chancellor to Richard I., was once described by Henry II. as the ‘son of two traitors.’ When Richard called a Council in Normandy in February 1190 Longchamp hurried over to the King in advance of his enemies and returned to England as sole justiciar. The Pope also made him Legate.

Longchamp bitterly offended the Londoners who, finding that they could turn the scales to either side, named the Commune as the price of their support of John.

Bishop Stubbs, in his Introduction to the Chronicle of Roger de Hoveden, after referring to the negotiations between Longchamp and John, and describing the hastening of the two parties to London on Monday, 7th October, when Longchamp met the citizens in the Guildhall, writes: ‘The magnates of the city were divided—Richard Fitz-Reiner, the head of one party, took the side of John. Henry of Cornhill was faithful to the Chancellor. These two knights had been sheriffs at Richard’s coronation, and both represented the burgher aristocracy.’ Longchamp betook himself to the Tower, and a meeting was held at St. Paul’s on Tuesday the 8th, and the barons welcomed the Archbishop of Rouen as chief justiciar, and saluted John as Regent. ‘This done, oaths were largely taken: John, the justiciar and the barons swore to maintain the Communa of London; the oath of fealty to Richard was then sworn, John taking it first, then the two archbishops, the bishops, the barons, and last the burghers, with the express understanding that should the King die without issue they would receive John as his successor.’[209]

Mr. Round writes: ‘The excited citizens, who had poured out overnight, with lanterns and torches, to welcome John to the capital, streamed together on the morning of the eventful 8th October at the well-known sound of the great bell, swinging out from its campanile in St. Paul’s Churchyard. There they heard John take the oath to the “Commune” like a French King or lord; and then London for the first time had a municipality of her own.’[210] After this the influence of Longchamp at once faded away. He stood a three days’ blockade in the Tower, after which he was forced to surrender, and was deposed from all secular offices.

As to the results of this revolution Mr. Round writes: ‘Of the character of the “Commune” so granted, of its ultimate fate, and of the part it played in the municipal development of London, nothing has been really known. The only fact of importance ascertained from other sources has been the appearance of a Mayor of London at or about the same time as the grant of a “Commune.” It cannot, indeed, be proved that, as has been sometimes supposed, the two phenomena were synchronistic, for no mention of the Mayor of London, after long research, is known to me earlier than the spring of the year 1193. But there is, of course, the strongest presumption that the grant of a “Commune” involved a Mayor, and already, in 1194, we find a citizen accused of boasting that, “come what may, the Londoner shall have no King but their Mayor.’ ”[211]

Mr. Round then states very clearly the divergent views of Bishop Stubbs, Mr. Loftie and Mr. Coote on the question of the concession of the Commune. The bishop held that it was difficult to decide with certainty on the point, as no formal record of the confirmation of the Commune is now preserved. Mr. Coote believed that a charter was granted in 1191, which has been lost, and Mr. Loftie dates the mayoralty from 1189, and deemed the Commune to have been of gradual growth, and to have been practically recognised by the charter of Henry I.

In reply to Mr. Coote’s view that in the case of London, which had acquired all other things, the Commune expressed for its citizens the mayoralty only, Mr. Round writes: ‘We find, however, that on the Continent the word “Commune” did not of necessity imply a Mayor, for Beauvais and Compiègne, though constituted “Communes,” appear to have had no Mayors during most of the twelfth century. The Chroniclers, therefore, had they only meant to speak of the privilege of electing a Mayor, would not have all employed a word which did not connote it, but would have said what they meant. Moreover, his theory rests on the assumption common till now to all historians that the citizens had continuously possessed from the beginning of the twelfth century the privileges granted in the charter of Henry I. But I have shown in my Geoffrey de Mandeville that these privileges were not renewed by Henry II. or Richard I., and this fact strikingly confirms the explicit words of Richard of Devizes when he states that neither the one nor the other would have allowed the Londoners to form a “Commune” even for a million of marcs.’[212]

Of Mr. Loftie’s argument that Glanville’s words prove that London, if not other towns as well, had already a Commune under Henry II., Mr. Round remarks that it had been disposed of by Dr. Gross in his Gild Merchant (i. 102).[213]

We have now to refer specially to Mr. Round’s remarkable discovery among the manuscripts of the British Museum of the Oath of the Commune, which proves for the first time that ‘London in 1193 possessed a fully-developed “Commune” of the continental pattern.’

This discovery not only gives us information which was unknown before, but upsets the received opinions as to the early governing position of the aldermen. From this we learn that the government of the city was at that time in the hands of a Mayor and certain échevins (skivini).

Of the existence of these skivins in England no suspicion has previously been expressed. Mr. Round, indeed, points out that Dr. Gross, in his Gild Merchant, considers these governing officers as a purely continental institution.

Twelve years later (1205-1206) we learn from another document, preserved in the same volume, that ‘alii probi homines’ were associated with the Mayor and échevins to form a body of twenty-four (that is twelve skivini, and an equal number of councillors).

In these documents there is no mention of aldermen, and further information is required as to when the Court of Aldermen first came into existence. This point will be discussed later on in this chapter, when the position of the alderman as a governor is considered.

Mr. Round holds that the Court of Skivini and ‘alii probi homines,’ of which at present we know nothing further than what is contained in the terms of the oaths, was the germ of the Common Council. He prints the oaths and compares the oath of the twenty-four with that of the freemen in the present day.[214]

The striking point in this municipal revolution is that the new privileges were entirely copied from those of continental cities, and that the names of Mayor and échevins were French, thus excluding the aldermen who represented the Saxon element. Still, as time went on, the aldermen obtained their natural position in the government of London, and the foreign name of échevin sank before them.

The intimate connection between Normandy and England made it certain that Englishmen would seek inspiration from Normandy. Mr. Round has devoted considerable attention to Monsieur Giry’s valuable work, Les Etablissemens de Rouen, and shows that there is conclusive proof of the assertion that the Commune of London derived its origin from that of Rouen. The vingt-quatre of the latter city formed the administrative body annually elected to act as the Mayor’s Council. Mr. Round further found that the oath of this ‘twenty-four’ bears a marked resemblance to the oath of the London Commune discovered by him. ‘The three salient features in common are—(1) the oath to administer justice fairly; (2) the special provisions against bribery; (3) the expulsion of any member of the body convicted of receiving a bribe.[215]

Much attention has been given lately to the important question of continental influence on English municipalities, and Miss Mary Bateson has discovered that a considerable number of boroughs in England, Wales and Ireland drew their customs from the little Norman town of Breteuil.[216] These are Bideford, Burford, Chipping Sodbury, Hereford, Lichfield, Ludlow, Nether Weare, Preston, Ruyton, Shrewsbury; Llanvyllin, Rhuddlan, Welshport; Drogheda, Dungarvan, Kildare and Rathmore. Besides these there are eight suspected cases and a number of derived cases.[217]

Although the fact that the Council of twenty-four seemed to exclude the already existing aldermen from the chief government of the city was opposed to our previous views, Mr. Round has set himself to show that a Mayor’s Council of twenty-four (not aldermen) was not unusual, and he draws especial attention to the case of Winchester. There the Mayor had a Council of twenty-four, who continued to exist down to the year 1835. This Council was elected by the city as a whole and not by the wards, and Mr. Round believes that this was also the case in London. He then quotes from Dean Kitchin’s book on Winchester (Historic Towns) where it is said: ‘The aldermen, in later days, the civic aristocracy, were originally officers placed over each of the wards of the city and entrusted with the administration of it.... It was not till early in the sixteenth century that they were interposed between the Mayor and the twenty-four men.’ We learn from Mrs. Green (Town Life in the Fifteenth Century) that there was a Council of twenty-four at Colchester, Ipswich, Leicester, Northampton, Norwich, Oxford, Wells, and Yarmouth.

When the city obtained the long-coveted privilege of the Commune and the power of electing their own Mayor, one would naturally expect the electors to choose the most distinguished citizen. We cannot however say whether Henry Fitz-Ailwin was that. At all events, he seems to have retained the esteem of the city, as he was continued in office until his death in 1212.

Mr. Round wrote the Life of Fitz-Ailwin in the Dictionary of National Biography, but he was unable to discover much of the Mayor’s history. He presumes that he was the grandson of an unidentified Leofstan, but he rejects the view that he was the grandson of Leofstan, Portreeve of London before the Conquest. Leofstan was a common name among the Saxons, and two or three of the same name have been confounded by historians.

Fitz-Ailwin is described as ‘of London Stone,’ because his dwelling—‘a very fair house’—stood on the north side of the Church of St. Swithin, and over against the London Stone, which was situated on the south side of Cannon [Candlewick] Street, but afterwards removed to the north side of the street. The advowson of the church was appropriated to the mansion. London Stone itself is one of the most valued relics of London, and its history is lost in antiquity. We know that in the Middle Ages it was esteemed to possess a special value as a representative stone monument.

The seal of Fitz-Ailwin is attached to a deed preserved among the public records. It represents a man on horseback with a hawk perched on his wrist. There is an inscription round the circumference of the seal, but it is so defaced as to be illegible.[218]

The city was given the right of electing the Mayor, but we do not know for certain who it was who first exercised this right. Bishop Stubbs says that two years after the death of Fitz-Ailwin, King John granted to the ‘barones’ of the City of London the right of annually electing the Mayor.[219]

The roll of Mayors is one of considerable distinction, and those who obtained this position were mostly men of great character and authority. Some of them were on the side of popular freedom, while others were active in the support of the prerogatives of the privileged classes.

Sometimes the King degraded the Mayor and appointed a custos or warden in his place. As early as 1222, twenty years after the death of Fitz-Ailwin, in the reign of Henry III., Hubert de Burgh, chief justiciar, superseded the Mayor and appointed a custos in his place. Again, in 1266, William Fitz-Richard was appointed by the King warden of the city. In November of the same year Fitz-Richard was replaced by Alan Souche, and John Adrian and Luke de Batincourt were elected by the citizens bailiffs of London and Middlesex. ‘The bailiffs and the whole Commune (Communa) of the said city’ are mentioned in 1267.[220] In 1268-1269 Hugh Fitz-Otho was custos, and then follow some stirring times in London.

Sir Walter Hervey, the predecessor of the famous Sir Henry Waleys in the Mayor’s chair, was the popular leader against the proceedings of his successor.

Sir Henry de Waleys, Le Waleis, Le Walleis, or Le Galeys (for in all these forms does his name appear), was elected sheriff with his distinguished contemporary Gregory de Rokesley in 1270. His first mayoralty was in 1273, and in 1275 he was Mayor of Bordeaux.

He was a very active chief magistrate and a good administrator; he was also high in the royal favour. He proceeded against bakers, butchers and fishmongers, and ordered them to remove their stalls from West Cheap. He also came in conflict with the Barons of the Cinque Ports. The King sent a mandate to the justices in Eyre at the Tower commanding them not to molest Waleys for his reforms.

In the year 1285 the city again lost its franchise. Gregory de Rokesley was deposed from the mayoralty by Edward I. for refusing to render any account of how the peace of the city was maintained, thus omitting to show proper respect to the King’s justices at the Tower. For the next thirteen years London was governed by a warden appointed by the King, in the person of Sir Ralph de Sandwich or John le Breton.[221]

Sir Ralph de Sandwich is described in Letter Book A as warden of the city, as well as warden of Cordwainer Street.

In 1297, a few months before the King restored the mayoralty to the citizens, John le Breton who had for many years acted as the King’s warden of the city in place of the Mayor, is recorded as having summoned the aldermen and six representatives of each ward and in their presence to have declared, inter alia, that the weighing machines for weighing corn at the mills should be abolished, and that bakers convicted of fraud should no longer be drawn on the hurdle, but suffer instead the punishment of the pillory.

As soon as the citizens recovered their liberties and Le Breton ceased to be warden, Le Waleys was again elected to the chair. The charter of restitution of the city’s liberties bears date 12th April, 26 Edw. I. [1299], and it is preserved at the Guildhall.[222] The particulars of the various stages of these proceedings are set out fully in the city’s records. The writ was sent to the late warden on the 5th April, and the notification to the citizens took place on the 9th. Le Waleys was elected and admitted by the King at Fulham on the 16th.[223]

The King issued a writ to the Barons of the Exchequer from York, notifying the restitution of the city’s liberties, on 28th May, and a proclamation followed. The day after the Mayor was sworn he was compelled by business of his own to proceed at once to Lincoln, and during his absence his official duties were committed to William de Betoyne and Geoffrey de Nortone.

It is very important to bear in mind that the Mayors of London, besides holding a very onerous office, were men of great distinction. They held rank outside the city, and naturally took their place among the rulers of the country. They were mostly representatives of the landed interest, as well as merchant princes, but sometimes, as already stated, the Mayor sided with the populace in opposition to the views of his own compeers. Bishop Stubbs describes the struggles between the magnates and the Commons, and shows how Thomas Fitz-Thomas favoured the latter.

‘In 1249, when the Mayor and aldermen met the judges at the Temple for a conference on rights claimed by the Abbot of Westminster, the populace interfered, declaring that they would not permit them to treat without the participation of the whole “Communa.”... In 1262 Thomas Fitz-Thomas, the Mayor, encouraged the populace to claim the title of “Communa civitatis,” and to deprive the aldermen and magnates of their rightful influence; by these means he obtained a re-election by the popular vote in 1263, the voices of the aldermen being excluded: in 1264-1265 he obtained a reappointment, but his power came to an end after the Battle of Evesham.’[224]

To pass on to the fourteenth century, we learn that in 1326 Queen Isabel sent a letter to the citizens permitting them to elect a Mayor, as in the days before the Iter of 1321. They elected Richard de Betoyne, whom the barons had that day appointed warden of the Tower conjointly with John de Gisors.[225]

Sometimes the sovereign, when he went abroad, endowed the Mayor with considerable powers for the preservation of peace. This was the case in 1340 when Andrew Aubrey, the Mayor, acted on the authority of Edward III. A conflict had taken place in the streets of the city between the skinners and the fishmongers, which the Mayor attempted to stop. John Hansard, a fishmonger, brandishing a drawn sword, seized Aubrey by the throat and offered to strike him, while John le Brewere wounded one of the city serjeants. The delinquents were at once seized, carried to Guildhall, arraigned, found guilty, condemned to death, and beheaded in Cheap. When the King heard of this bold proceeding he immediately wrote to the Mayor, warmly approving of his conduct, congratulating him on his spirit, and adopting and ratifying the deed—‘Si vous en savons très bon gree et votre fait acceptoms et le ratifioms.’[226]

Sir William Walworth, the most famous of Mayors, died in 1385, after a full and strenuous life. He is said to have suppressed usury in the city, and we have seen how important a figure he was during Wat Tyler’s insurrection. He was a prominent member of the Fishmongers’ Company, and improved the old Church of St. Michael’s, Crooked Lane (in which parish he lived), adding the Fishmongers’ aisle.[227]

The end of the fourteenth century was, perhaps, the most stirring period in the history of the London municipality. There was a deadly feud between the leaders, who were men of strong character, endued with courage to carry out their views to the extreme. These feuds were no matters of merely local interest, but the incidents were followed with the greatest attention by the Court and the whole country.

The feuds arose from the increased power of the livery companies and the antagonism between the victualling and clothing trades. This division existed in most of the towns of the land, but the battle was fought out with deadly effect in the City of London. Walworth, a fishmonger, was the chief of the victualling party, but the two prominent leaders of the two parties were Nicholas Brembre and John of Northampton.

Doubtless the victualling companies had obtained a preponderating influence, and it is recorded that at one time sixteen of the aldermen belonged to the Grocers’ Company, of which Brembre was a member.[228]

When John of Northampton, a draper, was elected Mayor in 1381, in succession to Walworth, he set himself to crush the victualling party. The Act of Edward II. having been evaded, another was passed in 1382 (6 Richard II. cap. 9), by which it was ordained that ‘no victualler shall execute a judicial place in a city or town corporate.’[229] ([See p. 305.])

He forced Sir John Philipot, a public-spirited man and ex-Mayor, but a friend of Walworth’s and of the King’s, to resign his aldermanry. On 7th November 1382, John Filiol, a fishmonger, was brought before the Mayor and aldermen on a charge of having ‘said that John Norhamptone, the Mayor, had falsely and maliciously deprived the fishmongers of their bread.’ For this offence Filiol was adjudged to be ‘imprisoned at Newgate, in a place then called “Bocardo,” for one year then next ensuing, unless he should deserve more extended favour in the meantime.’

On the 6th December John Filiol ‘was liberated at the instance of his friends, on the surety of William Naufretone and others.’ When the charge was made against Filiol, Richard Fiffyde was one of those questioned on the subject, and he ‘said that he and all the other fishmongers of London were bound to put their hands beneath the very feet of Nicholas Extone, for his good deeds and words in behalf of the trade aforesaid.’[230]

John of Northampton was Mayor for two years, and had held the office of sheriff in 1377 (M.P. for the city, 1378). He was head of John of Gaunt’s supporters and a prominent follower of Wyclif in London. He was leader of the party which sought to gain the favour of the populace, and he encouraged the citizens to set at naught the jurisdiction of their bishop.

He would probably have been returned again in October 1383 as the champion of cheap food if the King had not carried the election of Brembre by force.

Brembre was the chief supporter of Richard II. in the city, and he was the King’s financial agent in 1381. He was first elected Mayor in 1377, and at the Parliament of Gloucester in 1378 Thomas of Woodstock, the King’s uncle, demanded his impeachment as Mayor.

From 1379 to 1386 Brembre was one of the two collectors of customs for the Port of London, with Chaucer for his controller. He was M.P. for London in 1383.

When he succeeded Northampton, in 1383, he set himself to undo the evil caused by the action of his predecessor. Northampton was arrested in 1384, when returning from a riotous demonstration at Whitefriars. He was tried at Reading, before the Council over which the King presided. After a brief imprisonment, the condemned man was brought up for a fresh trial, before Chief-Justice Tresilian, in the Tower of London, and was imprisoned in Tintagel Castle, Cornwall.

Brembre was also opposed to Nicholas Twyford, who would probably have been elected Mayor but for the high-handed proceedings of Brembre. Twyford’s party was confident of victory, and shouted at the election ‘Twyford, Twyford!’; but when the voting commenced the soldiers placed by Brembre behind the arras in the Guildhall rushed out and drove Twyford’s followers from the building. Brembre’s party were allowed to remain, and they carried the election for their candidate.

It is worthy of note that during Brembre’s mayoralty, in 1378, Nicholas Twyford, one of the sheriffs, was brought up for contumacy towards the Mayor, and punished for the same. There had been a conflict in Cheapside between the goldsmiths and the pepperers (grocers), and John Worsele, one of the sheriff’s suite, was brought before the Mayor as a principal mover in the strife. Twyford refused to do the Mayor’s behests as to the imprisonment of his follower after arrest.[231]

With the fall of the King, Brembre also fell, and there was a revolution in the government of the city as well as in that of the country. Northampton was released from Tintagel Castle, and restored to his property; and Brembre was tried for his life, condemned to death, and executed in the Tower in February 1388. The companies who petitioned for Brembre’s punishment were Mercers, Cordwainers, and eight others, all opposed to the victualling trades.

In 1387 a proclamation was made in the city, by the King’s command, forbidding, on pain of death and forfeiture of goods, all true lieges of London to speak evil of the King and Queen. The issuing of this proclamation in the city formed one of the charges of high treason against Brembre and his followers.

In this same year, 1387, a book of civic regulations called Jubile, promulgated by John de Northampton and his party, was ordered to be burnt. Mr. Riley refers to the petitions in Parliament for 1386-1387,[232] where we learn from the petition of the Cordwainers against Nicholas Brembre and his adherents that in this book of Le Jubile ‘were comprised all the good articles pertaining to the good governance of the said city, and that Nicholas Extone, the Mayor, and all the aldermen and good Commons of the city had sworn for ever to maintain them, to the honour of God and the profit of the common people; but that the said Nicholas Extone and his accomplices have burnt it without consent of the good Commons of the city, to the annihilation of many good liberties, franchises and customs of the city.’[233]

The feuds of those days continued to agitate the city for some years, but at last the differences between the various trades cooled down somewhat. In 1391, however, a proclamation was issued that ‘no person shall speak or give his opinion as to either Nicholas Brembre or John Norhamptone’ on pain of imprisonment for a year and a day. The preamble is as follows: ‘Whereas many dissensions, quarrels and false reports have prevailed in the City of London as between trade and trade, person and person, because of divers controversies lately moved between Nicholas Brembre, knight, and John Norhamptone, of late Mayors of the same city, who were men of great power and estate, and had many friendships and friends within the same; to the great peril of the same city, and maybe of all the realm.’[234]

The names of many other Mayors who have conferred distinction on their office might be mentioned here, but the space at our disposal will not allow of any statement of the claims to honour of these men who have made their mark in the history of London.

It is a curious fact that we have no authority whatever for fixing a date for the first use of the title ‘Lord Mayor,’ and there can be little doubt that it was originally assumed without any positive right. Dr. Sharpe thinks that possibly the expression ‘domino maiore,’ strictly ‘Sir Mayor,’ may account for the origin of the Lord Mayor’s title.[235] A claim has been set up for Thomas Legge, Mayor the second time in 1354, that he was the first Lord Mayor, but there is positively no authority whatever for this claim, although it is boldly stated that he was created Lord Mayor by Edward III. in this year.

One point is worthy of special attention, although it does not throw any actual light on the matter. Bishop Stubbs says that the Mayor of York was known as Lord Mayor in 1389 [1389]. Richard II. had in that year presented his own sword to the Mayor, who was thence-forward known as the Lord Mayor; and in 1393 he had given the Lord Mayor a mace.[236]

If this were so, we can scarcely believe that the Londoners, who had always been very tenacious of their pre-eminent position, would be content to allow their chief magistrate to continue without a title possessed by the Mayor of York. Still, there is not the slightest evidence that the title of Lord Mayor was used in London at this early period, and it is possible that Bishop Stubbs’s statement is too definite. There is no doubt that the title ‘Lord Mayor’ was used at an early date in York, but the prefix ‘Lord’ was not always applied, and as late as 1565 there is reference in the Chamberlain’s account book ‘to Mr. John Bean, Mayor.’[237]

A correspondence of some interest was printed in The Times in November and December 1901 on this point; but although Legge’s claim was disproved, few if any positive facts were brought forward. The most satisfactory letter was one from Mr. W. H. St. John Hope, of the Society of Antiquaries, who, as the result of a search in the city books, gave some definite information as to the use of the title. ‘Down to about 1540 the chief magistrate was invariably styled Mayor.... There are, however, instances as early as 1519 where he is referred to as “my lorde mayr,” but seemingly in the same way as we speak of “my lord bishop” or “my lord the King,” for the same entry that refers to him as “my lorde mayr” nowe beyng, continues “as well as all other mayres his successours.” After 1540 the use of the term “Lord Mayor” becomes general—e.g., 1542, “every lorde mayer’s house”; 1545, “the lorde mayers of the same cytie”; 1546, “the lorde mayor,” &c.’

We have seen how important was the office of Mayor in mediæval times, and how like a king the holder’s dignity was upheld.

The Mayor has certain very remarkable privileges, which prove the high esteem in which he was held by the sovereign. These privileges are of considerable antiquity, and have not yet been traced to their source. The four principal are:—

I.	The closing of Temple Bar to the sovereign.
II.	The Mayor’s position in the city, where he is second only to the King.
III.	His summons to the Privy Council on the accession of a new sovereign.
IV.	His position of Butler at the Coronation banquets.

I.—The closing of Temple Bar to the Sovereign.

The gates of Temple Bar were invariably closed by the city authorities whenever the sovereign had occasion to enter the city. A herald sounded a trumpet before the gate—another herald knocked—a parley ensued—the gates were then thrown open and the Mayor for the time being presented the sword of the city to the sovereign, who graciously returned it to the Mayor. The earliest record of this custom is connected with Queen Elizabeth’s visit to St. Paul’s to return thanks for the defeat of the Spanish Armada, but evidently the custom must be one of great antiquity, and probably in the case of the early kings it was carried out at one of the city gates long before the bars of the liberties were thought of, although no records have come down to us.

Stow’s account of the proceedings in his Annales is as follows: ‘Over the gate of the Temple bar were placed the waites of the cittie, and at the same barre the Lord Maior and his brethren the aldermen in scarlet received and welcomed her Majestie to her cittie and chamber, delivering to her hands the scepter, which after certaine speeches had, her Highnesse redelivered to the Maior, and hee againe taking his horse, bare the same before her. The companies of the cittie in their liveries stoode in their rayles of tymber, covered with blew cloth, all of them saluting her highnesse, as shee proceeded along to Paules Church.’

II.—The Mayor’s position in the City.

None of the privileges connected with the Mayor’s office has been so jealously guarded as the one upon which is founded the claim to the Mayor’s supremacy in the City of London, where the sovereign only takes precedence of him. In Riley’s Memorials there is an extract from Letter Book I (1415) which refers to Henry V.’s speech on the contemplated invasion of France and the seat of honour accorded to the Mayor, in presence of the Archbishop of Canterbury and the King’s brothers. When these notabilities met together diligent council was held as to the order in which they ought to sit, and ‘the Lords agreed together among themselves to the effect that the Mayor, in consideration of the reverence and honour due to our most excellent Lord the King, of whom he is the representative in the city, should have his place, when sitting, in the middle, and that the said Lords of Canterbury and Winchester should be seated on his right hand, and John, Humphrey and Edward on the left, upon seats arranged for them; these to make declaration on behalf of our said Lord the King.’[238]

The actual right to pre-eminence was seldom challenged in the city, but there were certain places which were supposed to be outside the Mayor’s jurisdiction, such as the Inns of Court, where misunderstandings were frequently taking place. A very interesting instance is given in Gregory’s Chronicle, and it is well worth quoting here for the striking light it throws upon the dignity of the office:—

‘Thys yere [1465], abute mydsomyr, a[t] the ryalle feste of the Sargentys of the Coyfe, the Mayre of London [Mathew Phylyppe] was desyride to be at that feste. And at denyr time he come to the feste with his offecers, agreyng and acordyng unto hys degre. For withyn London he ys next unto the kyng in all maner thynge. And in tyme of waschynge the Erle of Worseter was take before the mayre and sette downe in the myddis of the hy tabelle. And the mayre seynge that hys place was occupyd hylde hym contente, and went home agayne with-owt mete or drynke or any thonke, but rewarde hym he dyd as hys dygnyte requyred of the cytte. And toke with hym the substance of hys bretheryn the aldyrmen to his place, and were sette and servyd also sone as any man couthe devyse, bothe of sygnet and of othyr delycatys i-nowe, that alle the howse mervelyd howe welle alle tynge was done in soo schorte a tyme, and prayde alle men to be mery and gladde hit shulde be a-mendyd a-nothyr tyme.

‘Thenn the offesers of the feste, fulle evylle a-schamyd, informyd the maysters of the feste of thys mysse-happe that ys be-falle. And they consyderynge the grete dygnyte and costys and change that longgyd unto the cytte, and anon sende unto the mayre a present of mete, brede, wyne, and many dyvers sotelteys. But whenn they that come with the presentys say [saw] alle the gyftys, and the sarvyse that was at the borde, he was fulle sore a-schamyd that shulde doo the massage, for the present was not better thenn the servyse of metys was byfore the mayre, and thoroughe-owte the hyghe tabylle. But hys demenynge was soo that he hadde love and thonke for hys massage, and a grette rewarde with-alle. And thys the worschippe of the cytte was kepte, and not loste for hym. I truste that nevyr hyt shalle, by the grace of God.’[239]

Another and a later difficulty with the lawyers is recorded by Pepys on March 3, 1668-1669. In order to understand the cause of contention it is necessary to bear in mind that within the city the Mayor’s sword was held up before him, but outside it was held down.

‘Meeting Mr. Bellwood, did hear how my Lord Mayor [Sir William Turner] being invited this day to dinner at the Reader’s at the Temple, and endeavouring to carry his sword up the students did pull it down, and forced him to go and stay all the day in a private councillor’s chamber, until the Reader himself could get the young gentlemen to dinner; and then my Lord Mayor did retreat out of the Temple by stealth, with his sword up. This do make great heat among the students; and my Lord Mayor did send to the King.’

On Sir William Turner’s complaint, the King agreed to have the case argued before him in council, but after hearing the evidence his Majesty thought it best to suspend the declaration of his pleasure until the right and privilege should be determined at law, and apparently the question remains unsettled to the present day.

A note may here be made of the Mayor’s position in the city as the chief of the military forces within his jurisdiction, with the right of forbidding the entry of troops without his sanction. ‘The 3rd regiment of foot, raised in 1665, known by the ancient title of the Old Buffs, have the privilege of marching thro’ London with drums beating, colours flying, which the city disputes, not only with all other corps, but even with the King’s Guards going on duty to the Tower.’—Major R. Donkin, Military Collections, New York, 1777, p. 134.

III.—The Mayor’s summons to the Privy Council on the accession of a new Sovereign.

This is intimately connected with the claim of the city to a voice in the election of the King, which found practical expression even before the Conquest. There can be no doubt that in mediæval times the support of London was eagerly sought for in cases of disputed succession. During the nineteenth century it was the custom to belittle the Mayor and Corporation, and Lord Macaulay in his history ignores the considerable influence of the city in securing the succession of his hero William III. to the throne.

At the Councils held on the accession of Queen Victoria and King Edward VII. the respective Lords Mayor, although summoned, were not allowed to remain to the meeting of the Council.

Little has been written upon this very important privilege of the Lord Mayor, but its consideration opens up a very remarkable constitutional question which requires very careful investigation. There ought to be sufficient information available to settle the question.

On the accession of his present Majesty, the Lord Mayor (the late Mr. Alderman Green, afterwards Sir Frank Green, Baronet) was invited to sign the proclamation immediately after the Royal Family, the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Lord Chancellor and his colleagues’ signatures following his lordship’s.

It is said that the great Duke of Wellington laid great stress upon the attendance of the Lord Mayor, and it was supposed that as the death of the sovereign cancelled the appointments of Court officials, the Lord Mayor, who continued in office, was an official of considerable importance on the occasion of the accession of a new sovereign. The continuance of Court appointments is now settled by an Act of Parliament.

IV.—The Mayor s position at the Coronation Banquets.

The privilege of assisting the chief butler at the coronations of the Kings of England accorded to the citizens of London appears to date back before the appointment of a Mayor. Dr. Sharpe, referring to the double coronation of Richard I., writes: ‘His first coronation had taken place at Westminster (3rd Sept. 1189), soon after his accession, and the citizens of London had duly performed a service at the coronation banquet—a service which even in those days was recognised as an “ancient service”—namely, that of assisting the chief butler, for which the Mayor was customarily presented with a gold cup and ewer. The citizens of the rival city of Winchester performed on this occasion the lesser service of attending to the viands. The second coronation taking place at Winchester [17th April 1194] and not at Westminster, the burgesses of the former city put in a claim to the more honourable service over the heads of the citizens of London, and the latter only succeeded in establishing their superior claim by a judicious bribe of 200 marks.’[240]

Andrew Bokerel, Mayor in the year 1236 (21 Henry III.), claimed to serve as butler at the coronation of Eleanor, daughter of Raymond Berengar IV., Count of Provence, Queen of Henry III., but his claim was set aside on this occasion by the King’s command.[241]

In the remarkable record of the Court of Claims held before the coronation of Richard II. (over which John of Gaunt presided as High Steward), Close Roll, I Ric. II. mem. 45. (Public Record Office), the claim of the Mayor and citizens is fully set forth: The King ‘willed and decreed that the citizens of the said city should serve in the hall of botelry helping the chief butler, while the King himself sat at table on the day of his coronation, and when the same our lord the King, after dinner, entered his chamber and asked for wine, the said Mayor should serve our said lord the King with a bowl of gold, and afterwards should receive that bowl with the ewer appertaining to the same bowl, as a gift from the King.’[242]

At the coronation of Henry VI. (6th November 1429), William Estfield, the recently elected Mayor, received the customary gold cup and ewer used on the occasion, which he afterwards bequeathed to his grandson.[243]

The latest instance of this jealously guarded privilege occurred at the coronation of George IV., July 19, 1821.[244]

The claim to this honourable service in the cases of the coronations of William IV and Queen Victoria was not made because no banquet took place on these occasions.

In the case of the coronation of his present Majesty the claim was excluded from the consideration of the Court of Claims under the royal proclamation. The terms of the judgment on a further claim is as follows: ‘The Court considers and adjudges that the Lord Mayor has by usage a right, subject to His Majesty’s pleasure, to attend the Abbey during the coronation, and bear the crystal mace.’[245]

It will be seen that of these four special privileges two relate to the Mayor’s position in the city and two to his position outside the city.

The pageants connected with the election of the Mayor are of great antiquity, but we have little information respecting the earlier ones. It is a tradition that when the mayoralty was granted by the King, a stipulation was made that the Mayor should be presented for approval either to the King or his justiciar, and the processions then commenced.

In 1415 the Mayor proceeded to Westminster on horseback, but in 1453 Sir John Norman, the Mayor, was infirm, and he introduced the custom of making the progress from London to Westminster by barge. This continued till the horseback procession was revived in 1657, much to the disgust of the London watermen.

Even when the water procession was the regular practice, the procession on horseback to the Guildhall and then to the waterside for embarkation took place.

No Lord Mayor in a city procession used a coach before 1712, and then only an ordinary one. The present State coach was built in 1757.

Sir John Shaa, Mayor in 1482, was the first to give the annual banquet in the Guildhall. Previously, the feast had taken place either at Grocers’ Hall or some other convenient place. The practice of dining at the Guildhall did not become general until 1501, when alterations were made in the kitchen, and the requisite offices having been added the series of annual banquets was commenced there.

There was no feeling of contempt of trade in the Middle Ages, and the Merchant Princes of London were held in high esteem. The custom of ridiculing the city and its rulers did not then exist, but it seems probable that it first came into being in the reign of Elizabeth.

Richard Johnson’s Nine Worthies of London (1592) contains the praise of the worthies, written by the author in a mock heroic style. Of the nine four were Mayors, namely, Sir William Walworth, 1374, 1380; Sir Henry Pitchard (Picard), 1356; Sir William Sevenoke, 1418; and Sir William White, 1553.