A.D. 1330. King Edward II. had been murdered in Berkeley Castle, and his son, Edward III., reigned in his stead, and now, five years after the decapitation of Bishop Stapleton, Cheapside was witness of a scene of a more joyous character. Unsuitable as it might be deemed nowadays, with its endless throng of cabs, omnibuses, and other vehicles, for such a display, it was then not unfrequently the chosen spot for tournaments and jousts. Two years before, the young King had married Philippa of Hainhault, and this year she had given birth to an infant, afterwards the famous Black Prince. In honour of this event, and to do honour to the visit of some French ambassadors, the King gave orders for a tournament to be held in Cheapside. The street was decorated with tapestries and silver draperies, pendant on the walls, and banners streaming from the roofs. The bright eyes of beauteous damsels glanced in the windows of the houses, and the street was filled with a crowd of gaily dressed holiday-makers. The lists were formed between Wood Street and Queen Street, and the ground bestrewn with sand to prevent the horses slipping. There was seen all the glory and paraphernalia of heraldry. Kings-at-arms and pursuivants, decked in habits emblazoned with arms, trumpeters, and other officials; prancing steeds, bestridden by knights in full panoply, with their achievements blazoned on their shields, accompanied by their esquires bearing their arms. Across the street had been erected a scaffold, shaped like a tower, whereon sat Philippa and the ladies of her court, the great centre of attraction for the spectators in the street below. Thirteen knights entered the lists on each side; stalwart men and the flower of chivalry. Their esquires handed to them their lances, and making deep obeisance to the Queen, they ranged themselves at each end for the onset, when the trumpets sounded and they dashed forward. Scarcely, however, had they done so when the scaffold on which the Queen sat came down with a terrific crash, which stopped the jousters in midway. The King rushed to the spot, anxious for the safety of the Queen, but fortunately found that no one had been hurt beyond a few bruises and a terrible fright. Great confusion prevailed, and the King, in a tempest of rage, vowed that all the careless carpenters who had constructed the stage should be put to death, but the Queen, says Stow, "took great care to save the carpenters from punishment, and through her prayers, which she made on her knees, she pacified the King and council, and thereby purchased great love of the people." After this the King caused a stone shed, called Sildham, to be built in front of Bow Church, "for himself, the Queen, and other estates to stand in, there to behold the joustings and other shows at their pleasure." It served this purpose until the year 1410, in the reign of Henry VI., when it was disposed of to Stephen Spilman, William Marchford, and John Wattel, mercers, for business purposes, with the condition that "The kings of England and other great estates, as well as those of foreign countries repairing to this realm, should be entitled to make use of it for witnessing the shows of the City, passing through Westchepe."
At the western standard by Paul's Gate, Jack Cade, the rebel leader, in 1450, caused Lord Say to be decapitated.
A.D. 1382-1445. In the interval between these dates, Cheapside was the scene of much royal pageantry of great splendour. When Anne of Bohemia, the first Queen of Richard II., entered London after her marriage, in 1382, a castle, with towers, was erected in Cheapside, on whose battlements stood a bevy of fair maidens, who flung in their path counterfeit gold coins, and threw over them, as it were, showers of butterflies made of gold leaf; and when she and Richard passed in procession through Cheapside, afterwards, to celebrate his reconciliation with the City, after a fierce quarrel, a tower was erected, whence issued copious streams of red and white wine for all comers, the King and Queen quaffing draughts therefrom out of golden goblets, and an "angel descending from a cloud crowned them with golden circlets." In 1423 Katherine of Valois, widow of Henry V., after visiting St. Paul's Cathedral, passed through Cheapside, seated in a chair of state, with her infant king, Henry VI., in her lap, whence she proceeded to Newington Manor House. Henry VI. and his queen—the masculine and brave, but unfortunate, Margaret of Anjou—passed along Cheapside with much pageantry on the occasion of their marriage, in 1445, when they halted by the great conduit to witness a play called The Five Wise and the Five Foolish Virgins, who were personated with great spirit by ten City maidens. Twenty-seven years after—in 1472—the corpse of the weak and unfortunate monarch, after his suspicious death in the Tower, and the fall of the Lancaster dynasty, passed along Cheapside in mournful funereal silence, by torchlight, and with the face exposed, that all might see that the last of the Lancasters was really dead, on its progress to St. Paul's, and hence to Windsor for burial.
A.D. 1510. Perhaps the most splendid of the sights of Cheapside was the setting of the Marching Watch on the Vigil of St. John the Baptist, in June, and on that of Saints Peter and Paul in July. The City Watch was instituted in the year 1253 by Henry III., and consisted of a body of substantial citizens, with an alderman or magistrate at their head, for each ward, to protect the houses from robbery and the streets from outrages by night—crimes which had hitherto been very rife; and it was ordained that if anyone suffered loss or violence whilst the guard was on duty he should receive compensation from the ward. The Marching Watch was a grand processional display of fire and light, banners and music, glittering armour and flashing weapons, bonfires in the streets, and numberless cressets borne aloft. The citizens' wives and daughters, apparelled in their most fascinating costumes, occupied the windows; men and boys clambered on the gabled roofs; whilst in the street below tables were spread with viands and provided by the citizens, which were presided over by their 'prentices, attired in their blue gowns and yellow hosen, like the Christ's Hospital boys of our time, who invited the passers-by—more especially if they were young and pretty and of the other sex—to partake of their masters' cheer.
On the Vigil of St. John in 1510, Henry VIII., then a frolicsome young man of nineteen, who had only been a year on the throne, with a companion or two, perhaps Charles Brandon, came from Westminster, disguised as a yeomen of the guard, to see this setting of the Watch, of which he had heard so much. He came from Westminster in a public wherry, and landing at Bridewell Stairs, proceeded on foot, like a modern Haroun al Raschid, mingling with the people and cracking jests with them as he went along. He stationed himself at the cross in West Cheap, where he saw the proceedings admirably, and after partaking, most probably, of a cake and a flagon of ale at some hospitable citizen's door, he returned, so much struck with the splendour of the festival that he vowed he would bring the Queen (Catherine of Arragon, whom he had married the previous year) to see it on the next occasion, in July.
The Vigil of Saints Peter and Paul arrived, and the gay monarch, faithful to his promise, and wishing to give pleasure to his queen, dreaming not then of divorces and the headman's axe, with which he became so familiar in after life, brought her in regal state and pomp, accompanied by a crowd of nobles and court ladies, to see the civic spectacle, which they witnessed from the hall of the Mercers' Company in Cheapside. The street itself, before the procession was arranged, was a sight worth seeing, and one to be remembered for many a long day. Huge bonfires were blazing up in different parts; the houses were hung with tapestry, and were lighted up with oil lamps and "branches of iron curiously wrought, containing hundreds of lamps, lighted at once, which made a great show;" timber stages, hung with variously coloured stuffs, and the latticed windows were filled with elegantly-dressed ladies, whose diamonds flashed in the light; banners and pennons floated in the evening breeze; "every man's door was shadowed with green birch, long fennel, St. John's-wort, and such like, garnished upon with beautiful flowers;" whilst prancing steeds in gay trappings, armed men with plumed casques, city and guild officials in gay liveries and a crowd of citizens, male and female, in the quaint costume of the period, mingled in picturesque groups below. After sunset the procession was arranged, and set out. First came a band of music, followed by the officials of the Corporation in parti-coloured liveries, and the sword-bearer mounted on a gaily-trapped steed, and in armour. Then came the Mayor on a magnificent horse with housings reaching to the earth, accompanied by a giant; two pages, mounted; a band of morris dancers, footmen, and three pageants. After him came the sheriffs, similarly attended with giants, morris dancers, and torchbearers, but with only two pageants. Then followed a cloud of demi-lancers, in armour, with the City arms emblazoned on their backs and breasts; a company of archers with their bows bent; pikemen and halberdiers, in corslets and helmets; and billmen, with helmets and aprons of mail. The whole body consisted of about 2,000 men, and between the divisions were bands of drummers, fifers, and whifflers, and standard and ensign bearers. Interspersed amongst them were 940 men bearing lighted cressets—iron frames filled with pitched rope, which blazed up and sent forth volumes of black smoke, "which showed at a distance like the light of a burning city," and the same number of men to supply the cressets with fresh supplies of fuel. Two hundred of these were supplied by the City; 500 were supplied at the expense of the City companies, and the remainder were the ordinary watchmen.
The midsummer watch was kept up until 1539, when Henry VIII., considering the great expense it was to the City, caused it to be abolished. It was revived, however, in 1548, and continued until 1569, when in consequence of its bringing together "abundance of rogues, pickpockets, quarrellers, whoremongers, and drunkards," it was again abolished, and although some attempts were made afterwards to restore it, they were not successful.
A.D. 1485-1610. In the interval between these dates, Cheapside was the scene of many a grand spectacle, and it may be added of many a so-called vindication of justice in a way of barbarous mutilations and inhuman executions.
A.D. 1513. The Cheapsides 'prentices, of whom we have spoken, were a turbulent and unmanageable element of the community, keeping their clubs at hand in the shops, to be ready at any moment to rush out and join a fray, and many a broken head they gave and got in these fights, which generally arose, not so much out of malice as from pure love of contention for mastery, which then developed itself in this rough way as it now displays itself in games of cricket and athletic sports. There was one class of persons, however, against whom they had a special hatred, and nothing pleased them better than to insult them with vile speeches, drag them in the gutter or belabour them with their clubs. These were the foreign merchants, importers of silks, wine, and other commodities; the Lombard money-lenders and stranger craftsmen and citizens, who, they said, impoverished the English traders and carried away the English gold. This jealousy continued to grow, and was brought to a crisis by a Lombard seducing a citizen's wife, and obtaining through her, his plate chest, and afterwards causing the citizen to be arrested for a debt for his wife's board and lodging during the time she was at his house. A rumour got abroad that on the ensuing May Day a sort of Bartholomew's massacre should take place, and that all foreigners found in London then would be put to death. The 'prentices now began to insult and ill-treat them as they passed along the street, and several fled from the city. A report of these proceedings reached the king, and Wolsey sent for the mayor and charged him to see that the peace was kept in the city, which he assured the cardinal he was quite capable of maintaining, and departed. This was about four o'clock on the eve of May Day, and on his return to the city he assembled the magistrates and council, amongst whom was Sir Thomas More, ex-under-sheriff, when, after some discussion, it was decided to issue an order to the citizens to have their doors closed at nine o'clock, and to keep all their 'prentices and servants within until nine the following morning, and the aldermen went to their respective wards to see that this mandate, which had been confirmed by the king and council, was obeyed.
After the issuing of this order, which only took place about half-an-hour before nine, Alderman Sir John Munday, on going down Cheapside found two young fellows playing at bucklers in the middle of the street, and a number of other young men looking on. He ordered them to desist and go within doors, and upon their asking him why, instead of explaining the order, which they had no knowledge of, he threatened to send them to the compter, and after a little altercation, seized one of the youths to commit him to prison. "But," says Stow, "the 'prentices resisted the alderman, taking the young man from him, and cried, ''Prentices! 'prentices! clubs! clubs!' Then out of every door came clubs and other weapons, so that the alderman was put to flight. Then more people arose out of every quarter, and forth came serving-men, watermen, courtiers, and others, so that by eleven o'clock there were in Cheap 600 or 700, and out of St. Paul's Churchyard came about 300. From all places they gathered together and broke open the compters, took out the prisoners committed thither for hurting the strangers. They went also to Newgate and took out Studley and Bets, committed for the like cause. The mayor and sheriffs were present and made proclamation in the king's name, but were not obeyed." After this they went in separate bands, breaking open and plundering the houses of the foreigners, until about three in the morning, when they began to disperse, and being thus disunited, the authorities were enabled to capture about 300 of the rioters and place them in prison. Sir Roger Cholmley, lieutenant of the Tower, had come forth with a military force, "and shot off certain pieces of ordnance against the City, but did no great hurt." About five o'clock the Earl of Shrewsbury and other nobles, and the prior of St. John's, Clerkenwell, came with what forces they could get together, as did the Inns of Court, "but before they came the business was over."