RICHARD II. (1367-1399)
From a painting in Westminster Abbey. Artist unknown.
No one who considers the life and reign of Richard II. can fail to observe, and in some measure to understand, the very remarkable personal affection which he inspired in the people, especially the people of London, whose loyalty he rewarded so shamefully. His singular beauty, his kingliness, his charm of manner, the splendour and luxury of his court, his love of art and music, his personal bearing, all these things dazzled and fascinated the populace. Never was there a more gallant prince to look upon. That he was proud, almost as proud as Henry III., proud to a degree which is in these days absolutely unintelligible; that he was wasteful and prodigal; that he was led by unworthy favourites almost as much as his great-grandfather; that he was revengeful; that he always wanted money and cared nothing about charters, rights, and liberties, upon all of which he trampled without scruple in order to get money,—these things the people of London were going to find out to their cost. Meantime they loved the lovely boy, the son of the Black Prince. To begin with, the nobles called Richard the Londoners’ King. We shall see that the City endured blow after blow, before they finally abandoned him. Mostly, I think, the City regarded Richard with gratitude and affection for that deed of desperate daring when he faced the mob, himself a mere boy, and persuaded them to go home. Every citizen who remembered those few terrible days when the wildest mob ever seen in London streets held possession of the City, and when they remembered what the better sort had to endure, robbery, fire, and murder, looked on that act as the salvation of himself as well as of the City. The alienation of the City which followed was due solely to the King’s long-continued exactions and his arbitrary disregard of Charters.
The new reign—Richard was only eleven—began happily for London by a reconciliation of the City with the Duke of Lancaster. At the Coronation Banquet the Mayor and Citizens claimed their right to assist the chief butler, but were refused by Robert Belknap, Chief-Justice of the Common Pleas, who told them that they might come and wash up the pots and pans if they pleased. The citizens therefore set up an effigy of Belknap on one of the arches erected in Cheapside for the procession. The figure was made to vomit wine continuously. This is an early example of caricature in things political. Robert Belknap withdrew his opposition; the effigy was removed, and the Mayor and Aldermen played their accustomed part in the Coronation Banquet. It is noted by Sharpe (London and the Kingdom, p. 213) that the King’s Butler in ordinary could claim the post of City Coroner.
The City granted the Council an advance of £5000 on the security of the Customs. When Parliament met, it granted a tallage of two-tenths and two-fifteenths, and named two citizens, Walworth and Philpot, to act as treasurers. At this time, nearly the worst in our annals, the French were harrying the south coast almost unopposed; the Scottish army was on the borders; and a Scottish fleet was in the North Sea making descents upon the ports and seaboard towns. The Abbot of Battle drove off the French, and it was left to a private merchant of London to destroy the Scottish fleet.
This fleet was commanded by a man named Mercer who was called a pirate. Like his countrymen on the Border he probably called his own proceedings lawful acts of war. Sir John Philpot, hearing that this sea captain, or pirate, Mercer was plundering English towns and picking up English ships, fitted out at his own private expense a fleet of ships manned with a thousand men well armed, went on board himself as Admiral or Commander, sailed north, met Mercer’s fleet off Scarborough, valiantly attacked it, and killed him and took all his ships; then, with these and fifteen Spanish vessels, deeply laden, which had been captured by Mercer, he returned to London. The Council sent for him and asked him to explain his presumption in going to war on his own account. But the citizens showed their approval of his work by electing him Mayor in the following year.
The late King having died while the petition of the City for a confirmation of their liberties was impending, they renewed it on the accession of Richard. The House of Commons also prayed the King that the City might continue to enjoy all the Franchises and usages granted by his Progenitors. This was answered by a Charter of Confirmation as follows:—
“Whereas the said Citizens, by their Petition exhibited to us in Parliament, did set forth that although they, for a long time past, have used and enjoyed certain free Customs, until of late Years they have been unjustly molested; which Customs are as followeth, viz., That no Foreigner do buy or sell of another Foreigner any Merchandises within the Liberties of the said City, upon Pain of forfeiting the same. Nevertheless, being desirous, for the future, to take away all Controversies about the same, We do by these presents, with the Assent aforesaid, will and grant, and by these Presents, for us and our heirs, do confirm unto the said Citizens, and their Successors, that, for the future, no Foreigner sell to another Foreigner any Merchandises within the Liberties of the said City: nor that any Foreigner do buy of another Foreigner any Merchandise, upon pain of forfeiting the same; the Privileges of our Subjects of Aquitaine in all Things excepted, so that such buying and selling be made betwixt Merchant and Merchant.”
The City was still at this time torn by internal dissensions. The party headed by John of Northampton, representing the popular cause of the craft guilds, was always striving after more power and always meeting with the most determined resistance; it is also certain that a new and very important spirit had been introduced into the City, which was teaching new ideas concerning personal holiness, the riches of priest and monk, the true teaching of Christ as set forth in the Gospels, and spread abroad by Wyclyf’s preachers. The other side, headed by Philpot and Brembre, represented the old aristocratic party with the great guilds of distribution, import and export. The Duke of Lancaster, for reasons of his own, gave his support to John of Northampton and the popular party. In this he was joined by his brother Thomas of Woodstock, Earl of Buckingham, who three times accused Brembre before the Parliament: first of connivance in a riotous attack upon his house, and next of treason. The Earl showed his resentment still further by withdrawing from the City with all his following and all his friends. He must have had a great many friends, because the blow to trade was so sorely felt that the richer merchants subscribed and bribed him to come back again. The history of the City factions will be found in another place.
In 1379 a poll tax was imposed. Every man had to pay according to his rank and station. The Mayor of London was assessed as an Earl and paid £4. The Aldermen, assessed as barons, paid £2 each. The lowest workmen had to pay a groat—fourpence. The poll tax of the City amounted to no more than £700. It is estimated that there was a population of about 46,000. But the expenses of collection are not included. In the taxation of the whole population, man, woman, and child, there must have been a great number of clerks and collectors. Perhaps 25 per cent was spent in the work. That would give us a population of 56,000. Next year the poll tax was again imposed; but this time the smallest sum to be paid was three groats, and that by every man, woman, and child over the age of fifteen. What would this tax mean at the present day? It would mean that every working man would have to pay half-a-crown for himself, half-a-crown for his wife, and half-a-crown for every one in his house over fifteen years of age, say four half-crowns, or ten shillings in all. How long would a Government last which should impose such a tax? The tax produced in London alone no more than £1000. It was a fatal impost for the country, for it proved the cause of the rebellion, the most formidable rising of the peasantry which this country ever had to encounter, that named after Wat Tyler. The history of this insurrection belongs to the history of England rather than that of London, but the later and more dramatic part of it took place in the City. Perhaps I cannot do better than transcribe the short and graphic contemporary account given in Riley’s Memorials (p. 449):—
“Among the most wondrous and hitherto unheard-of prodigies that have ever happened in the City of London, that which took place there on the Feast of Corpus Christi, the 13th day of June, in the 4th year of the reign of King Richard the Second, seems deserving to be committed to writing, that it may be not unknown to those to come.