Than was handl’d at Chivy-Chase.
Henry III. proclaimed a fifteen days’ fair to begin on the 13th of October 1248, the Day of the Translation of St. Edward ( Matthew Paris, ii. p. 272)—
“On the 13th of October in this year, in the fortnight of Michaelmas, the king proceeded to London, to keep the feast of St. Edward, that is, of the translation of that saint, and sent word to a great number of the prelates and nobles, begging them, out of their friendship and devotion to him, to make their appearance at Westminster, to join with him in solemnly and devoutly celebrating the feast of St. Edward. At this summons, therefore, there came thither Earl Richard, Roger Bigod, earl marshal, the Earl of Hereford, some select barons, and certain knights, the bishops of Winchester, London, Ely, Worcester, and Carlisle, and a great number of abbots and priors. The king then declared it as his pleasure, and ordered it to be proclaimed by herald throughout the whole city of London and elsewhere, that he instituted a new fair to be held at Westminster, to continue for a fortnight entire. He also strictly interdicted, under penalty of heavy forfeiture and loss, all fairs which usually lasted for such a length of time in England; for instance, that of Ely and other places, and all traffic usually carried on at London, both in and out of doors, in order that by these means the Westminster fair might be more attended by people, and better supplied with merchandise. In consequence of this, innumerable people flocked thither from all quarters, as to the most famous fair, and the translation of St. Edward was celebrated, and the blood of Christ worshipped to an unexampled degree by the people there assembled. But all the merchants, in exposing their goods for sale there, were exposed to great inconveniences, as they had no shelter except canvas tents; for, owing to the changeable gusts of wind assailing them, as is usual at that time of the year, they were cold and wet, and also suffered from hunger and thirst; their feet were soiled by the mud, and their goods rotted by the showers of rain; and when they sat down to take their meals in the midst of their family by the fireside knew not how to endure this state of want and discomfort. The bishop of Ely, in consequence of the loss of his fair at Ely, which was suspended by the king’s warrant, made a heavy complaint to him in the matter for introducing such novelties, but he gained nothing but words of soothing promises of future consolation.”
CHAPTER VII
COACHES
The seventeenth century witnessed the invention of the stage coach, and therefore the improvement of the roads. The horse litter was still used in the first half of the century. Marie de Medici, when she visited her daughter Henrietta in 1638, entered London in a litter. In 1640 Evelyn travelled in a litter from Bath to Wootton with his father, who was suffering from a dropsy, which killed him. The first stage coach was a waggon. A service of waggons was established between London and Liverpool; there were waggons also between London and York, and between London and other towns. M. de Sorbière, visiting London in the reign of Charles II., says that rather than use the stage coach he travelled in a waggon drawn by a team of six horses. Therefore the Dover stage coach had already begun to run, and it was not thought more convenient than the waggon. Probably it was more liable to be upset. In 1663 one Edward Parker of Preston wrote to his father saying that he had got to London in safety on the coach, riding in the boot; that the company was good, “Knightes and Ladyes,” but the journey tedious.
Coaches at first had no springs, so that the occupants were tossed about. “Men and women are so tossed, tumbled, jumbled, and rumbled.”
Stow attributes the introduction of coaches into England to one Guilliam Boonen, a Dutchman, who became the Queen’s coachman in 1564. He is wrong about the introduction of coaches, but he is right in saying that within the next twenty years there grew up a great trade in coachbuilding, to the jealousy of the watermen.
“Coaches and sedans (quoth the waterman), they deserve both to be thrown into the Theames, and but for stopping the channell I would they were, for I am sure where I was woont to have eight or tenne fares in a morning I now scarce get two in a whole day: our wives and children at home are readie to pine, and some of us are faine for meanes to take other professions upon us.”
Taylor, the water-poet, thus speaks of coaches:—