The Story of London

by Henry B. Wheatley

Hallam tells us that from the middle of the twelfth to the thirteenth century the traders of England became more and more prosperous. The towns on the southern coast exported tin and other metals in exchange for the wines of France. Those on the eastern coast sent corn to Norway, and the Cinque Ports bartered wool against the stuffs of Flanders.

The export, of wool and the import of cloth were prohibited in 1261, and the prohibition was repeated in 1271. The cause of this prohibition may be illustrated by reference to a particular import—woad, which seems to show that a native woollen manufacture existed, although all the finer cloth came from Flanders. The restrictions originally imposed upon the woad merchants would not allow them a settlement in the city nor permit them to store their woad, which they had to sell as best they could on the wharf where it was landed. In 1237, however, the merchants of Amiens, Corby and Nesle were allowed, by special arrangement, greater freedom in the disposal of their woad and other wares. In the end the woad merchants settled in Cannon Street (Candelwykstrete), the very centre of the cloth trade in London, as Lydgate tells us in his London Lyckpenny:—

‘Then went I forth by London Stone,
Throughout all Canwyke Street;
Drapers mutch cloth me offered anone.’[287]

London was the seat of trade in Eastern luxuries, which became known largely through the influence of the Crusades. Silks, fruits, spices and Greek wines were brought here by the Italian fleets which, after 1317, regularly visited England.

In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries the importance of our commerce is shown by the appearance of regulations for its promotion in the Statute Book. The Statute of Merchants is dated 1283-1285, and the Carta Mercatoria 1303.

The trade with Bordeaux was very active, and largely carried on by English ships from London, Bristol, Dover and Hull. Wool, herrings, lead, copper and tin were taken out in these ships, also pilgrims as passengers. The ships returned to England laden with wine, and corn when the home production was short. In 1350 141 ships carried 13,429 tuns of wine from Bordeaux to England. English merchants travelled largely, and made their appearance at the great continental fairs.

As commerce increased the enemies of commerce also increased, and we find therefore that the Thames and the open sea were infested by bands of pirates. Soon after pirates had made a successful descent upon Scarborough, John Philipot, a prominent Londoner, set himself to break up the conspiracy. He fitted out a fleet at his own expense, and, putting to sea, succeeded in capturing the ringleader, a feat which rendered him so popular as to excite the jealousy of the Duke of Lancaster and other nobles. His fellow-citizens showed their appreciation of his character by electing him to succeed Brembre in the mayoralty in October 1378.[288]

How serious this danger really was may be seen from the fact that not even the King was safe. When Henry IV., in order to escape the pestilence raging in London, crossed from Queensborough, in Sheppey, to Leigh, in Essex, on his way to Plashey—though convoyed by Lord Camoys with certain ships of war—narrowly escaped capture by pirates. A vessel containing part of his baggage and retinue, together with his Vice-Chamberlain, fell into the hands of the enemy. This scandal naturally created a great stir, and Lord Camoys was tried on a charge of correspondence with the enemy. He was acquitted, but his innocence appears to have been considered doubtful.

Pirates lurked in the Thames or blockaded the mouth of the river, and to prevent them from landing within the area of the city the streets leading to the river were defended by chains. Still further to defend London from privateers, John Philipot offered to build at his own cost a stone tower 60 king’s feet in height, near Ratcliff, provided the Corporation of London would levy sixpence in the pound on the rental of the city and build a corresponding tower on the opposite side of the river, so that an iron chain might be stretched from one tower to the other to protect the shipping of the river from night attack. The danger was so imminent that the Common Council agreed to the proposal, but, as the alarm died away, this scheme of defence was laid aside.[289]