London in the Time of the Tudors

by Walter Besant

In 1590 the Mayor complains of butchers being licensed in privileged places. What does this mean?

In 1591 he gives licenses to six butchers. He then finds out what we have been suspecting all along, that cattle and sheep were killed outside his jurisdiction, and that flesh was brought into the City by the gates. He also proves that within the City itself a great deal more meat is killed than was wanted for Shrovetide. Here we have a proof of the Puritanic spirit. The unlicensed butchers, on the eve of Lent, kill a great deal more than is wanted for Shrovetide; the licensed butchers go on killing. Do they sell to none but persons who have paid for the privilege? And every day carcases are brought in at the gates wrapped up in some kind of cloth for disguise.

In 1615 the Mayor gives up the attempt. He says that all butchers kill and sell meat in Lent, on Fridays, and that the people buy it freely on Fridays and on the other forbidden days.

Still there is maintained the pretence of an enforced fast during Lent until the Civil War, after which there are no more attempts to make the people fast, while many of the better class, clergy and others, continue to abstain from meat on the forbidden days.

There are grave complaints, both before and after the Reformation, about the behaviour of the people in church. The complaints point to two widely different causes. The first cause, that which operated before the Reformation, was undoubtedly the formalism into which religion had fallen. To be present at Mass, merely to be present, to kneel at the right time, was the whole of religion. Sir Thomas More, a most devout Catholic, complains bitterly of the irreverence of people at church service. Outward behaviour, he says, “is a plain express mirror or image of the mind, inasmuch as by the eyes, by the cheeks, by the eyelids, by the brows, by the hands, by the feet, and finally by the gesture of the whole body, right well appeareth how madly and fondly the mind is set and disposed.” He applies this observation to himself and the congregation. Sometimes “we solemnly get to and fro, and other whiles fairly and softly set us down again.” “When we have to kneel we do it upon one knee, or we have one cushion to kneel upon and another to support the elbows. We never pretend to listen: we pare our nails; we claw our head.”

A ROYAL PICNIC
From Turberville’s Book of Hunting, 1575.

The second cause was the rise of the new Religion. It was inevitable that with the destruction of the old forms a period of irreverence should set in. The churches quickly began to show signs of neglect. The windows were broken, the doors were unhinged, the walls fell into decay, the very roofs were in some places stripped of their lead. “The Book of God,” says Stubbes, “was rent ragged, and all be-torn.” Some of the churches were used for stabling horses. Armed men met in the churchyard, and wrangled, or shot pigeons with hand-guns over the graves. Pedlars sold their wares in the church porches during service. Morrice-dancers excited inattention and wantonness by their presence in costume, so as to be ready for the frolics which generally followed prayers. “Many there are,” said Sandys, preaching before Elizabeth even after her reforms, “that hear not a sermon in seven years, I might say in seventeen.” The friends of the new doctrine expected that all the evils of the time would be instantly remedied. But the work of reform was extremely gradual.

A third reason is offered for the irreverence of the people during service, this time during the Anglican service. Many people walked about, talked and laughed. This, however, was to show their contempt for the new order; they were secretly attached to the ancient Faith; they betrayed their sympathies, not only by this intolerance, but also by crossing themselves and telling their beads in secret.

Many of the ancient customs remained. It was long before the people, in London, could be persuaded to give up their old customs. Sunday remained the weekly holiday: the people held on Sundays their wakes, ales, rush-bearings, May games, bear-baitings, dancing, piping, picnics, and gaming; they continued so to “break the Sabbath”—which was first made part of the Christian week by the Puritans—until well into the seventeenth century. After the Commonwealth I think that there were very few traces of old customs lingering in the country, and only those, such as the hanging of garlands in the chancel when a maiden died, which carried with them no doctrinal significance and could prove no occasion for drunkenness and debauchery.