“Our next ceremonial procession over this edifice was the solemn and splendid funeral of King Henry V.; when that gallant Sovereign had departed this life, on Monday, the last day of August, 1422, at the Castle of Bois de Vinciennes, a short distance from Paris. That sumptuous spectacle is described in several places, although I do not find it mentioned either in the Life by Thomas of Elmham, or in that by Henry’s Chaplain; but Stow, in his ‘Annals,’ page 363, says that the Royal body arrived in London about the tenth of November, and so was conveyed by London Bridge through Cheapside, to the Cathedral Church of St. Paul, where funereal exequies were performed; and thence it was carried and interred in Westminster Abbey. As the corse advanced in rich and solemn procession over the Bridge, it was truly a magnificent and imposing spectacle. On a royal chariot, decorated with cloth of gold like a bed of state, was laid a figure exactly representing the late King, habited in a robe of purple velvet, lined with ermine; wearing an imperial diadem of gold and jewels on the head, and bearing in the hands, the regal sceptre, and the mound and cross. The face, which was painted exactly to resemble the life, was uncovered, and looking towards Heaven; and on the bed lay a covering of red silk beaten with gold. The chariot was drawn by six stout horses, richly harnessed, with heraldic devices upon their housings: thus, the first bore the Arms of St. George; the second, of Normandy; the third, those of King Arthur; the fourth, those of St. Edward the Confessor; the fifth, the coat of France, alone; and the sixth, those of France and England quarterly. When the chariot passed through any town of eminence, a rich and costly canopy was held over it, by some of its more honourable attendants; and it was surrounded by three hundred torch-bearers habited in white; by five thousand men-at-arms on horseback in black armour, holding their spears reversed; and by a multitude of Lords bearing pennons, banners, and bannerolls; whilst twelve captains went before carrying the King’s achievement. After the body followed the servants of the Household all in black; then came James I., King of Scotland, as Chief Mourner, with the Princes and Lords of the Royal blood, in mourning habits; and lastly, at the distance of two miles in the rear, followed Queen Katharine, no less honourably attended.
“We learn, also, from a very interesting history of King Henry V. in English, contained in the Harleian Manuscripts, No. 35, folio 138 a, that when the funeral ‘should enter the Cittye, ten Bishopps, wth their pontificall adornments revested, and many Abbotts mytored, and other men of the Church in greate number, with a right great multitude of Cittizens of the same Cittie, went out thereof to meet the Corps, and receaued it with due honnour. And all ye saide Spiritualls singinge, the officers accustomed in like case, conveyed the same Corps by London Bridge, and by Lumbart Streete, thoroughe the Cheape vnto ye Cathedrall Churche of Saint Paule.’ This life of King Henry is partly a translation from the Latin of Titus Livius, an Historian of his reign, who called himself by that name, and the French Chronicles of Enguerrant. The other particulars you will find set down in Stow, as I have already cited him, and in two Manuscript volumes of Heraldic ceremonies, in the Harleian Library, No. 2076, folio 6 b, and No. 6079, folio 23 b; and in finishing our imperfect notices of this reign, let me close with almost the very words of the good old London Historian to whom we are so much indebted—‘Thus this most victorious and renowned King entred the way decreed for every creature, in the flower and most lusty time of his age, to wit, when he was six and twenty years old, when he had reigned nine years, and five months with glory.’
“You must, doubtless, worthy Mr. Barbican, well remember the discord which Shakspeare represents to have existed between the Protector, Humphrey Plantagenet, Duke of Gloucester; and Cardinal Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester: and the fray which takes place between their serving-men in blue coats and tawny coats, on Tower-hill. This is in his ‘First Part of Henry the Sixth,’ Act I, Scene 3; but we learn from Fabyan’s ‘Chronicle,’ page 413, that they once disturbed London Bridge with a brawl that wore a much darker aspect. It was customary in the more ancient days of this City, that the Lord Mayor should be elected on the Feast of St. Simon and St. Jude, on the 28th of October; and that on the day following he should be sworn in at Westminster. It was then, during the subsequent banquet of Sir John Coventry, Citizen and Mercer, that the Protector sent for him in great haste, and commanded him to watch the City securely during the night following; and on Tuesday, the 30th of October,—for, in 1425, St. Simon and St. Jude’s day happened on a Sunday, and therefore the Lord Mayor was elected the day after,—about nine in the morning, some of the Bishop’s servants came from his Palace on the Bankside, to enter at the Bridge Gate, when the warders, as they were commanded, kept them out by force. Upon which repulse, they retired in great discontent, and, gathering together a larger body of Archers and men-at-arms than that which kept the gate, assaulted it as a hostile City. All London was immediately alarmed; the Citizens shut their shops and hastened down to the Bridge in great multitudes; and a conflict would speedily have commenced, had it not been for the prudence and mediation of the Lord Mayor and Aldermen, Henry Chicheley, Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Prince of Portugal; who rode between the Protector and the Bishop, eight several times, ere they could bring them to any agreement; until, at length, they both consented to refer their dispute to the decision of John Plantagenet, Duke of Bedford, and Regent of France. The quarrel was, however, not concluded until the following Easter, which began on the last day of March. In defending London Bridge, the Protector appeared to be only retaliating upon the Bishop; for, in the third article of his charges against him, he stated, that once, when he was quietly riding to attend the King, the Bishop attempted his death at the Bridge foot, by assembling archers and soldiers in Southwark; by setting up engines to stop his way; by drawing the chain, used in ancient fortifications, across the Bridge; and by placing men in windows and turrets to cast down stones upon the heads of him and his followers.
“I have already mentioned to you, that there were several Towers erected on London Bridge, both for defence and ornament; although we have not any authentic historical notice concerning them, until we arrive at the year 1426, when Stow tells us in his ‘Survey,’ volume i., pages 61, 65, that the Tower at the North end of the Drawbridge, over which the heads of Traitors were wont to be set, was then began to be newly built, in the Mayoralty of Sir John Raynewell, Citizen and Fishmonger; who bore for his Arms, Parted per pale indented Argent and Sable, a Chevron Gules. He laid one of the first stones of the edifice, and the Bridge-Master, with John Arnold and John Higham, the Sheriffs, laid the others. Upon each of these four stones, the name IHESUS was engraven in fair Roman characters, and at the rebuilding of this Gate and Tower in April 1577, they were laid up as Memorials in the Bridge House. The Drawbridge over which it was erected, was, at this period, readily raised up or lowered, that ships might pass up the River to Queenhithe; which was, during the use of this convenience, a principal strand for their lading and unlading, as being in the centre and heart of the City.
“In the year 1428, we find a short, but certain proof, that the passing beneath London Bridge was not less dangerous, than it is at present. You will see the circumstance mentioned in Stow’s ‘Annals.’ page 369, but I prefer giving it you in the words of the often-mentioned Harleian Manuscript, No. 565, folio 87 b, which was, very probably, the original authority of the good old Chronicler. ‘Also this same yere,’—says the record,—‘the viij day of Nouember, the Duke of Norfolk, with many a gentil man, squyer, and yoman, tok his barge at Seynt Marye Ouerye be twen iiij and v of ye belle a yens nyzt, and proposyd to passe thorugh London Bregge. Where of the forseid barge, thorugh mysgouernance of stearyng, fell vp on the pyles and ouerwhelmyd. The whyche was cause of spyllyng many a gentil man and othere; the more ruthe was! But as God wolde, ye Duke him self and too or iij othere gentyl men, seying that myschief, leped vp on ye pyles, and so were saved thorugh helpe of them that weren a bove ye Brigge with castyng downe of ropes.’ The Duke of Norfolk, to whom this misfortune happened, was John Mowbray, the second of that title, who had served under King Henry V. in France, and who died October the 19th, 1432.
“We next come down to the April of 1431, when an association was formed at Abingdon, in Berkshire, headed by one William Mandeville, a weaver, and Bailiff of the Town, who entitled himself Jack Sharp, of Wigmore’s land, in Wales. The Protector took instant order for his apprehension, and when examined, he confessed that it was intended ‘to have made Priests’ heads as plenty as Sheeps’ heads, ten for a penny.’ His own, however, did not remain on his shoulders long after, for he was executed as a traitor, at Abingdon, and his head erected on London Bridge, whilst his companions were also hanged and quartered in other places. You find this fact related by Fabyan in his ‘Chronicle,’ page 422.
“From these scanty notices of misery, infatuation, and crime, it is with much delight that we turn to a spectacle of the greatest magnificence, and the most distinguished character, which London Bridge ever witnessed: the entrance of King Henry VI. to the City, after his Coronation as King of France, in the Church of Nôtre Dame, at Paris, on Friday, the 7th of December, 1431. On the 9th of the February following, he landed at Dover, and upon Thursday, the 21st of the same month, he was met by the Mayor and Corporation of London at Blackheath. Of their ceremony in conducting him towards the City, and the numerous Pageants which they had prepared to meet him at London Bridge, I shall now proceed to give you an account, extracted from Alderman Fabyan’s ‘Chronicle,’ volume ii., pages 423-425, and from Lydgate’s Poem on the ‘Comynge of ye Kynge out of Fraunce to London;’ of which a very fair copy is preserved in that Harleian Manuscript which I have already quoted, No. 565, folio 114 b. The verses by Lydgate are not very common in any form, and they have, as I think, been but once printed in connection with the history of London Bridge, which is in Malcolm’s ‘Londinum Redivivum,’ already cited, volume ii., page 397; and, although you may conceive that I quote too much of them, I cannot deny myself the pleasure of beginning at the very commencement, since it is but little less beautiful than Chaucer’s immortal Tales. Listen, then, Mr. Barbican, I pray you listen; if you have ears for either Poesy or Romance.
‘Towarde the ende of wyndy Februarie,
Whanné Phebus was in ye fyssh ronne
Out of the signe whiche callyd is Aquarie;
Newe kalendas were entred, and begonne
Of Marches comyng, and the mery sonne
Vp on a thorsday, shed hys bemys bright
Vp on london, to make them glad and light.
The stormy reynes of all there heuynesse
Were passyd a way, and allé there greuaunce;
For the syxte Henry, rote of there gladnesse,
Ther herty’s joye, the worldis suffissaunce,
By trewe assent was crownyd king of Fraunce.
The heven reioysyng the day of his repaire,
Made at his comynge the wether to be so faire.
A tyme J trowe of God for hym prouydyd,
Jn alle the heuenes there was no clowdé sayne;
From other dayes that day was so deuydyd,
And fraunchisyd from mystys and from rayne.
The erthe attempred, the wyndes smothe and playne,
The Citezeines thorughe out the Citté
Hallow’d that day with gret solemnnyte.