The deputation forthwith proceeded, clothed in gowns of black, to Greenwich, whither the king had gone on the 11th May. The Recorder as usual acted as spokesman, and humbly prayed the royal forgiveness for the negligence displayed by the mayor in not keeping the king's peace within the city. The king in reply told them plainly his opinion that the civic authorities had winked at the whole business, and referred them to Cardinal Wolsey, his chancellor, who would declare to them his pleasure.[1065] With this answer the deputation withdrew and reported what had taken place to the mayor, who had wisely kept away. It was clear that above all things the favour of the cardinal had to be obtained. For this purpose a committee was appointed, whose duty it was to "devise what thinges of plesur shalbe geven to my lord Cardynall and to other of the lordes as they shall thynk convenient for their benevolences doon concernyng this last Insurreccioun."[1066] By the 22nd May matters had evidently been accommodated. On that date the king sat at Westminster Hall in great state, surrounded by the lords of his council and attended by the cardinal. The mayor and aldermen and chief commoners of the city, chosen from the leading civic companies,[1067] had arrived by nine o'clock in the morning clad in their best liveries, "according[pg 359] as the cardinal had commanded them."[1068] Wolsey knew the king's weakness for theatrical display. At Henry's command all the prisoners were brought into his presence. They appeared, to the number of 400 men and eleven women, all with ropes round their necks. After the cardinal had administered a rebuke to the civic authorities for their negligence, and had declared that the prisoners had deserved death, a formal pardon was proclaimed by the king, the cardinal exhorting all present to loyalty and obedience. It was some time before the effects of the late outbreak disappeared. Compensation for losses had to be made;[1069] some were bound over to keep the peace;[1070] and counsel were employed to draw up a statement of the points of grievance between the citizens and merchant strangers for submission to the king.[1071] In September there were rumours of another outbreak, but the civic authorities were better prepared than formerly, and effectually stopt any such attempt by putting suspected persons into prison.
Lest any unfavourable report should reach the cardinal, the Recorder and another were ordered to ride in all haste to Sion, where Wolsey was thought to be, and if they failed to find him there, to follow him to Windsor and to report to him the active measures that had been taken to prevent any further insurrection in the city.[1072] "Evil May-day" was long remembered by the citizens, who raised objection to Thomas Semer or Seymer, who had been sheriff at the[pg 360] time, being elected mayor ten years later.[1073] In May, 1547, all householders were straitly charged not to permit their servants any more to go maying, but to keep them within doors.[1074]
The epidemic of 1518.
With gibbets all over the city, each bearing a ghastly freight, and the summer approaching, it is scarcely surprising that the city should soon again be visited with an epidemic. "At the city gates," wrote an eye-witness, "one sees nothing but gibbets and the quarters of these wretches"—the wretches who had been hanged for complicity in the late disturbance—"so that it is horrible to pass near them."[1075] The "sweating sickness," which had again made its appearance in 1516, and had never really quitted the city (except for a few weeks in winter), now raged more violently than ever, accompanied by measles and small-pox. The king ordered all inhabitants of infected houses to keep indoors and hang out wisps of straw, and when compelled to walk abroad to carry white rods.[1076] This order, however, was badly received in the city and gave rise to much murmuring and dissatisfaction.[1077] The civic authorities did what they could to mitigate the evil by driving out beggars and vagabonds, and removing slaughter-houses outside the city walls,[1078] as well as by administering relief to the poorer classes by the distribution of tokens or licences[pg 361] to solicit alms. These tokens consisted of round "beedes" of white tin, bearing the City's arms in the centre, to be worn on the right shoulder.[1079] In the midst of so much real suffering, there were not wanting those who took advantage of the charitable feeling which the crisis called forth and were not ashamed to gain a livelihood by simulating illness. Such a one was Miles Rose, who on the 11th March, 1518, openly confessed before the Court of Aldermen that he had frequently dissembled the sickness of the "fallyng evyle" (or epilepsy) in divers parish churches in the city, on which occasions "jemewes" of silver, called cramp rings, would as often as not be placed on his fingers by charitable passers-by, with which he would quickly make off, pocketing at the same time many a twopence which had been bestowed upon him.[1080]
Marriage of the infant Princess Mary with the Dauphin, 5 Oct., 1518.
The city could scarcely have recovered its wonted appearance after the ravages of the pestilence before its streets were enlivened with one of those magnificent displays for which London became justly famous, the occasion being an embassy from the French king sent to negotiate a marriage treaty between Henry's daughter Mary, a child but two years of age, and the still younger Dauphin of France. The City Records, strange to say, appear to be altogether silent on this subject, and yet the embassy, for magnificent display, was such as had never been seen within its walls before. We can understand that the embassy was not acceptable to the thrifty middle-class trading burgess, when we read that it was accompanied[pg 362] by a swarm of pedlars and petty hucksters who showed an unbecoming anxiety to do business in hats, caps and other merchandise, which under colour of the embassy had been smuggled into the country duty free.[1081] The foreign retail trader was at the best of times an abomination to the free burgess, and this sharp practice on the part of the Frenchmen, coming so soon after the recent outburst against strangers on Evil May-day, only served to accentuate his animosity—"At this dooing mannie an Englishman grudged, but it availed not."[1082] The ambassadors were lodged at the Merchant Taylors' Hall, which, owing to the ill-timed action of the French pedlars, had the look of a mart. On Sunday, the 3rd October, the king, with a train of 1,000 mounted gentlemen richly dressed, attended by the legates and foreign ambassadors, went in procession to St. Paul's to hear mass; after which the king took his oath—a ceremonial which the French admiral declared to be "too magnificent for description." On the following Tuesday (5 Oct.) the marriage ceremony—so far as it could be carried out between such infants—was celebrated at Greenwich, and a tiny gold ring, in which was a valuable diamond, placed upon Mary's finger.[1083]
Preparations for the reception of the legate in the city, July, 1519.
In the following year (July, 1519) the streets witnessed another scene of gaiety. This time it was a visit of the legate, Cardinal Campeggio, for which the civic authorities made great preparations.[1084] In[pg 363] the first place the mayor and aldermen, in their gowns and cloaks of scarlet, were ordered to take up their position at 9 o'clock on the morning of Relic Sunday (i.e., the third Sunday after Midsummer Day) at St. Paul's stairs (the stayers wtin poulys). Next to them were to stand the Skinners, then the Mercers and other worshipful crafts in their order, clothed in their last and best livery. In this manner the street was to be lined on either side from the west door of St. Paul's down to Baynard's Castle. Upon the arrival of the lord cardinal and other lords at the Cathedral the mayor and aldermen were to head the procession and seat themselves in the choir to hear Te Deum sung. Bonfires or "pryncypall fyres" were to be lighted at St. Magnus corner, Gracechurch, Leadenhall, the conduit on Cornhill, St. Thomas "of Acres," the Standard and little conduit in Cheap, the Standard in Fleet Street, and in Bishopsgate Street; whilst cresset lights and small fires "made after the manner of Midsummer-night" were to add to the gaiety of the scene. Men-at-arms, well harnessed and apparelled, were to keep certain streets, whilst the aldermen and their constables were to keep watch and ward in their best array of harness. The ambassadors, who were to be lodged in Cornhill, were to be escorted home at night by the aldermen with torches, and to await their commands. There was one other, perhaps not unnecessary, direction to be followed, which was to the effect that if by any chance the strangers should be overcome by the hospitality of the city, or, in the words of the record—"yf eny oversyght be wt moche drynke of the strangers"—the citizens were to "lett theym alone and no Englishemen to medyle wt theym."
The legate lands at Deal, 23 July, 1519.
A story told of his passage through the city.