This has an important bearing on the reality of the dual or reciprocal obligations, which were apparently embodied in a compact between the Mayor and Citizens of London on the one part, and their military chief or champion on the other. Thus it will be necessary to glance at the personal history of the elder Robert Fitzwalter, on which something has been already said. According to the Chronicle of Dunmow and other early records, the principal reason of Fitzwalter's insatiable hatred of King John was that the monarch had attempted the chastity of Matilda, Robert's fair daughter, who, by the way, is identified by Anthony Munday and other Elizabethan playwrights with the Maid Marian of Robin Hood. Dugdale is disposed to accept this story; but, granting that it is true, it hardly suffices to explain Fitzwalter's pre-eminence in the forces of the rebellious Barons. This seems to have been due to his influence with the wealthy citizens of London, who were among the staunchest opponents of the astute and tyrannous sovereign. On May 24, 1215—the Sunday next before Ascension Day, when many of the inhabitants would have been in attendance on Divine service—the army of the Barons, marching from Ware, were permitted to enter the City, unopposed, through the gate of Aldgate. Fitzwalter's position as Castellan, and his connexion with the Priory of Holy Trinity at Aldgate, furnish an easy and natural explanation of this proceeding. In 1217 the citizens of London raised a force of 20,000 men for the assistance of the Dauphin of France against King Henry and his guardian William Marshal, Earl of Pembroke, and Robert Fitzwalter acted as commander. He died in 1234, and was buried before the high altar in the church of Dunmow Priory.
In the description of the banner delivered to Fitzwalter by the Mayor we have the earliest mention of the assumption of any sort of arms by the City of London. It may be noted that the sword is stated by some heraldic authorities to have been argent, whilst by others this detail is omitted. In Saxon times York also had its standard-bearer. The "Great Gate" of St. Paul's was probably the Northern Gate.
Still keeping to the military aspects of the subject—at the commencement of the fourteenth century there was at the west end of St. Paul's Cathedral a waste piece of ground, which was the property of the City; and here it was the custom for the citizens to make a muster of arms under the command or inspection of the lord of Baynard Castle for the defence of the City, "so often as the said citizens might see fit." Moreover, at the east end of the church lay a smaller plot, on which the citizens held folkmotes and made parade of arms for preserving the King's peace. This was perhaps a relic of the Anglo-Saxon institution of Inward, which is mentioned in Domesday, and was designed for the maintenance of order within the walls. Adjacent to this smaller plot was the clochier or campanile of St. Paul's, which was a distinct building from the cathedral proper, and contained the great bell, known as the motbelle, by which the citizens were summoned to the Folkmote or an assembly of arms on occasions "when within the respective bailiwicks of the Aldermen anything unexpected, doubtful, or disastrous against the realm, or the royal crown, chanced suddenly to take place." When the King required the services of the Host of London against foreign enemies or outside the confines of the City, it is natural to suppose that the muster was held on the larger of the two spaces.
The musters and parades of the Host probably lapsed when, by the sale of Baynard Castle, the Fitzwalters ceased to be de facto Castellans of London. This is a fair inference from the circumstance that in 1321 the citizens complained before the Justiciars Itinerant that the Dean and Chapter had unlawfully taken possession of the vacant spaces, enclosed them with walls, and even erected dwelling-houses on the eastern plot. The blazonry of the Banner of St. Paul, which would have been no longer used, was so far forgotten that eighty or a hundred years later nothing remained but the sword, which was supposed to stand for the dagger of that militant mayor, Sir William Walworth, who is said to have terminated therewith the lawlessness of Wat Tyler.
URBAN
CHAPTER XV
GOD'S PENNY
Were we obliged to sum up the difference between town and country in one word, that word would be "trade." In mediæval, far more than in modern, times country places had their fairs, but London, with its markets open Sundays and week-days, enjoyed all the benefits of a perpetual fair; from which strangers and foreigners, though under some disadvantages compared with freemen, were by no means excluded.
One of the great principles regulating commercial transactions in the Middle Ages and enforced by law and custom was publicity. Bakers, as we have seen, might not sell bread "before their oven," and to this we may add that fishmongers might not take fish into their shops—they had to expose it for sale outside. The object of such arrangements was to ensure fair dealing all round. As Justice is usually figured with a pair of scales, it may be taken for granted that the important question of due weight did not escape the attention of legislators, and it attained considerable prominence in 31 Edward I. (A.D. 1303), in which year the statute De Nova Custuma was promulgated. This statute provided that in every market town and fair throughout the Kingdom there was to be erected in some fixed spot the Royal Beam or Balance, and that both vendor and purchaser were to view the scale before weighing, to see that it was empty. Prior to being used, the arms of the balance had to be exactly equal, and when the tronator was weighing, he had to remove his hands as soon as they were level. It may be observed that the citizens of London refused to accept the "New Custom," stating that it had always been the custom for all buyers of wares, whether archbishops, bishops, earls, barons, or other persons, to have the draught of the beam; but we have learnt by this time that a local custom was not allowed to override the law of the land, and thus it is most improbable that this protest, though it led to the issuing of two Royal mandates, was long persisted in.