Mediæval London, Volume 1: Historical & Social

by Walter Besant

That have been on the sea many a year.”

The Mayor and Aldermen also collected debts. Debt-collecting forms another class of letters. They wrote, for instance, to the Mayor and Bailiffs of Gloucester informing them that one John de St. Alban, pinner, owes Walter Wyredrawer, citizen of London, 41s. Will they get the money and send it up to London?

A great many letters refer to runaway apprentices. It must not be imagined that the condition of the prentice was always satisfactory, or that his conduct was always good. Very often he ran away, sometimes taking his master’s property with him; sometimes he complained that his master would not teach him his craft; sometimes his master sent him to prison for idleness or roguery; sometimes, when his articles were out, his master refused to get him his freedom; he then petitioned the Lord Mayor’s Court.

The letters always show that the City knew where the runaway prentice, or where any other kind of rogue that they wanted, was to be found. How were they traced? In country districts there was no resting-place or hiding-place found for persons escaping with stolen property. They could not sell it in the country; nor could they live on it; they were obliged, therefore, to take refuge in towns; all the towns were small, so the runaways could not hide or skulk in obscure corners, they had to declare themselves, their names, their quality. That this was the case is shown by these letters, many of which demand restitution for a citizen unjustly detained and deprived of his wares on suspicion of being a rogue.

Thus, Roger Bountayn, Citizen of London, was arrested at Chepstow as a suspicious person. For some unknown reason, for he was clearly a respectable citizen, he was unable to give an account of himself. Perhaps he stammered. So he was clapped into prison, and they took from him all he had; viz. 10s. 6d. in money, two chains and a ring of silver, worth 5s., and a robe trimmed with white budge (rabbit fur) worth 7s. 6d. I suppose that he communicated by means of some Lawyer or Merchant with the Mayor, who presently entreated the Bailiffs of Chepstow to make restitution “for love’s sake.”

For the same sweet reason, the Mayor and Bailiffs of Oxford were entreated to send to John English the goods, viz. a horse, half a sack of wool, and four nobles in money, taken by them from William Ware, the runaway apprentice of the said John English. Sometimes the Mayor and Corporation wrote an account of an injury which reveals, or seems to reveal, a great deal.

What possibilities, for instance, there are in the story of John de Walhouse! He was a citizen of London; and, being moved, one hopes, by piety and not by a morbid desire of change and travel, was resolved on going a pilgrimage. He might have gone to the Black Virgin of Willesden, in which case he could have taken his wife Lucy, and so might have done the job in one day. Or he might have gone to Our Lady of Walsingham, which would have taken a fortnight or three weeks. He could have taken his wife there, too. Nothing would do, however, but that he must go to Rome, a long journey of two thousand miles, too far for tender woman to endure. So he left her at home, in charge of all he had; perhaps, but this is not explained, in charge of the shop, if there were a shop. What happened in his absence? The Tempter came; he must have come, otherwise Lucy would not have behaved as she did. He came in the shape, form, and appearance of a young man of attractive manners. He flattered poor Lucy, who was but weak; he made love to her; he persuaded her to fly with him; and, as there was property in the house, they took the property with them—robes of fur, harness, mazers, all kinds of things. They loaded a pack-horse or two with these things and they travelled northwards. When the pilgrim returned, proud of his staff and cockleshells, bearing perhaps some priceless relic which a good friar had let him have for a mere trifle, burning to tell his wife about all his adventures, he found the house closed. Where was Lucy? The neighbours only knew that one morning, when they arose at break of day, the house was closed. Lucy must have gone through the gates of the City as soon as they were opened. While he stood agape with looks of distraction, one whispered in his ear, “Master, I know where they are—he and she—and your goods. They are at Lynn.” So the Mayor wrote the letter calling for restitution, and one knows nothing more, but fears the worst.

It was to Lynn that another sinner, John Aleyn, repaired, taking with him the goods of his mistress Alice. Again, there was the injury done to Peter Grubbe, who chartered a ship and sent her to Winchelsea to bring home a cargo of free wood. Observe that the Sussex forests were not then destroyed, and that the woods on the north of London were not sufficient to provide the City with fuel. The Captain loaded his ship, but then steered for Dunkirk, where he sold the cargo on his own account. Will the Echevins of Dunkirk, asks the Mayor of London, act honourably in the matter, and make Peter disgorge? It would be a pity to proceed to reprisals.

One more case. It is that of John de Hilton, citizen and pewterer. He thought himself quite safe when he went away to St. Ives’ Fair with his string of pack-horses and his load of pewter. For he had confided the care of his property to his servant Agnes, whom he trusted, as a woman of blameless life. Alas! Agnes had deceived her worthy master. She was a married woman who pretended to be single, and her husband was a great rogue. As soon as the master went away the husband concerted with his wife, and they carried off between them property left behind to the extent of £30: 14s. There were no banks in those days, nor were there any “running cashes” at the goldsmiths’ . What a man had he carried about, or kept in some safe place, unknown to the world. Agnes took with her £10 in gold, £6 in silver, silver pieces valued at 26s. 8d., fourteen silver spoons, 20s., one piece of cloth, 100s., one long furred robe, 33s. 4d., one short robe, 26s., one stone called “peletote,” 16s., rings of gold, 20s., and naperie, 20s.; the fugitives were traced to the City of Dublin. The Mayor of London writes to the Mayor of Dublin asking for the recovery of the goods, and the bringing of the two to justice.

Another class of letter was the Letter Patent, or the Letter Recommendatory. Two friars are going to Rome on business, they bear with them the Mayor’s Letter Recommendatory; a merchant is going to a country fair, he takes with him Letters Patent with the Mayor’s seal, stating that he is a good and true man and entitled to the privileges of the City. The unfortunate John de Radclive, born in St. Botolph’s Without Bishopsgate, asks for and obtains a letter from the Mayor, stating that his left ear, deficient by one half, was not, as many would think, struck off by the hangman as the concluding ceremony of procession and pillory, but was actually bitten off by a horse.