On the 5th April James left Edinburgh for London, where every precaution was taken to prevent disturbance by ridding the streets of rogues, vagabonds and "masterless" men.[5] He proceeded southward by easy stages, accompanied by a long retinue of Scotsmen, until he reached Theobald's, at that time the mansion house of Sir Robert Cecil, but soon to become a royal hunting-lodge. On the 19th the mayor issued his precept to the livery companies to prepare a certain number of members[pg 003] to accompany the mayor in his attendance upon the king, who was shortly expected in the city. It was intended that not only the mayor and aldermen but also the full number of 500 of the "best and gravest" citizens should wait upon his majesty on horseback, clothed in coats of velvet with velvet sleeves and adorned with chains of gold, and each accompanied by "one comlie person, well apparelled in his doublet and hose," on foot. In a word, the cavalcade was to be furnished on a more sumptuous scale than had yet been seen within the memory of man.[6] The Court of Aldermen in the meantime appointed a committee to consider what suits were "fitt to be made to the Kinges most excellent Maiestye for ye good of this Cittie and the enlarging of the libertyes and priviledge of the same."[7]
The citizens ride forth to meet him, 7 May.
After resting a few days at Theobald's, James set out (7 May) for the last stage of his journey. At Stamford Hill he was met by the mayor and aldermen and a deputation from the livery companies. At every stopping-place on his journey from Scotland he had lavishly bestowed knighthoods.[8] On the 11th May he entered the Tower of London, having come from Whitehall by water for fear of the plague which was ravaging the city.
The plague of 1603.
The coronation ceremony was hurried over owing to the presence of the plague. Only the mayor, the aldermen and twelve of the principal citizens[pg 004] were permitted to attend, and much labour bestowed on preparations for the event was consequently lost.[9] The civic authorities did their utmost to stay the sickness and alleviate distress. The streets were ordered to be kept better cleansed. Infected houses were marked with papers bearing the words "Lord have mercy upon us," and when these were torn down a red painted cross, fourteen inches in length and breadth, and not so easily effaced, was added.[10] Persons stricken with the plague were forbidden to leave their houses. A master who had been inhuman enough to turn out into the street a domestic servant who had fallen a victim to the prevailing disorder was ordered by the Court of Aldermen to take her back again into his house,[11] a circumstance which seems to point to the pest-house or hospital being already overcrowded. Instructions were given for seeing that the graves of those who died of the plague were sufficiently covered with earth, and that the number of mourners attending funerals should be as far as possible limited. Women whose duty it was to search the bodies of the dead, as well as all those who were brought into contact with the sick, were forbidden to go abroad unless they carried before them a red rod three feet in length in order to give notice to passers by. It was a common belief that infection was carried about by stray dogs. To those, therefore, who killed dogs found in the streets without an owner a reward was[pg 005] given.[12] The sufferings of the afflicted were alleviated, as far as circumstances permitted, by money subscribed by the livery companies, which were further called upon to forego their customary banquets in order to relieve the poor.[13] The plague was accompanied, as was usually the case, with a scarcity of corn, and again the assistance of the companies was invoked.[14]
The king's public passage through the city, 15 Mar., 1604.
By the end of the year (1603) the city was almost free of the plague, and in the following March (1604) James determined to make his first public entry into London. A sum of £400 was raised by the livery companies[15] for furnishing pageants and stands for the occasion, and steps were taken to remove from the streets everything that might be offensive to the king's eye or ear. Thursday, the 15th March, was the day fixed for his entry, and from the preceding Wednesday until the following Friday no refuse of any kind was to be thrown into the street.[16] It was further ordered that no church bells should be rung before seven o'clock in the evening of the eventful day, lest the noise should prove offensive and hinder his majesty from hearing[pg 006] the speeches that were to be made.[17] When all was over and the pageants were about to be taken down, the Court of Aldermen, with the frugal mind of men of business, ordered the master and wardens of the Company of Painter Stainers to examine the painters' work bestowed on them, and report whether, in their opinion, such work had been well and honestly executed, and what amount of remuneration the workmen deserved.[18] It is said that the Recorder, Sir Henry Montagu, welcomed the king on this occasion with a speech, wishing him on behalf of the city "a golden reigne," and that a cup of gold was presented to the king, the queen and the young prince who accompanied them respectively;[19] but no record of the speech or gifts appears in the City's archives.
Catholic plots against the king, June, 1603.
One of the first questions James had to decide on his accession to the throne was that of religious toleration; and his settlement of the question was anxiously looked for as well by the Puritans as the Catholics. The fear lest the policy which the king should advocate might prove adverse to their interests determined the Catholics to resort to strong measures, and the life of James was threatened by a series of plots, as that of Elizabeth had been before him. Among these was a plan for seizing the king at Greenwich on Midsummer-day, 1603. The plan was laid by a secular priest named William Watson, who had previously sounded James as to his probable attitude to the Catholics if he came to the throne, Sir Griffin Markham, a Catholic gentleman, who for[pg 007] private reasons was discontented with the government, and one Antony Copley. News of the plot having reached the government, the conspirators fled for their lives. Proclamations were issued for their capture,[20] in which details were given of their personal appearance. Thus Watson was described as a man of the lowest sort about thirty-six years of age, "he lookethe a squinte and is verie purblynde," and had formerly worn a long beard which he was believed to have cut off; whilst Sir Griffin Markham is credited with having a large broad face of a "bleake" complexion, a big nose, and a hand maimed by a bullet. His brethren "have all verie greate noses." Copley's description is not given, but we have that of another conspirator, William Clarke, a priest, whose hair is represented as having been "betwixte redd and yeallowe." The whole party was subsequently taken, one after another, and their examination disclosed traces of another conspiracy, the object of which was to place Arabella Stuart on the throne.
The discovery of Watson's conspiracy—generally known as the "Bye" or "Surprise" Plot—so alarmed the king that he lost no time in making known his intention to exact no longer the recusancy fines. The result was such as might be expected. The Puritans were disgusted, whilst the number of recusants increased to such an alarming extent that in February, 1604, the king took the extreme measure of ordering the expulsion of all Jesuits and Seminary priests from the country before the 19th March,[21] the day fixed for the meeting of parliament.