CHAPTER III
THE COMMUNE
We are now in a position to proceed to the establishment of the Commune. The stages of any important reform are, first, the right understanding of the facts; then a tentative discussion of the facts; then an animated discussion of the facts; next, an angry denial of the facts; then a refusal to consider the question of reform at all; finally, the unwilling acceptance of reform with gloomy prophecies of disaster and ruin. One knows nothing about these preliminary stages as regards the great Civic Revolution of 1191. But I am quite sure that, just as it was with the Reform Bill of 1832, so it was with the creation of a Mayor in 1191. There were no newspapers, no pamphlets, and no means of united action except the Folk Mote at Paul’s Cross—which would clearly be of no use on such a point—and the casual meeting day by day of the merchants by the riverside. There was no Royal Exchange; there were no Companies’ Halls for them to meet in; we have no record of any meeting; but we may be sure that the inconvenience of the situation was discussed whenever two or three were gathered together. We may be equally sure that there were Conservatives, those who loved the old days, and dreaded the power of a central authority. Opinion as regards reform has always been divided, and always will be divided; there are always those who would rather endure the ills that exist than meet unknown ills which may be brought upon them by change. I do not know how long the discussions continued and the discontent was endured. On this subject history is dumb. One or two points, however, are certain. The first is that all the great towns of Western Europe were eager for the Commune; the next is the model which they proposed to copy.
It must have been well known to our Kings throughout the twelfth century that the creation of the Commune in the great trading cities of Western Europe was not only ardently desired by the citizens, but had been actually achieved by many. What they desired was a Corporation, a municipality, self-government within their own walls. It is certain that London looked with eyes of envy upon Rouen, a City with which it was closely connected by ties of relationship, as well as those of trade, because Rouen obtained her Commune fifteen years before London obtained the mere shadow of one. It was, in fact, from Normandy that the City derived her desire to possess a Commune. The connection between London and Rouen was much closer than we are generally willing to recognise. Communication was easy, the Channel could be crossed whenever the wind was favourable, the Englishman was on a friendly soil when he landed in Normandy, a country ruled by his own Prince. The Normans found themselves also among a friendly people on the soil of England. They came over in great numbers, especially to London. The merchants of Rouen had their port at Dowgate from the days of Edward the Confessor. Many of the leading London merchants came from Rouen and Caen. Therefore, whatever went on in Rouen was known in London. Now, in the year 1145, great and startling news arrived. It was heard that the City of Rouen had obtained a Commune, that is to say, a municipality, with a Mayor for a central authority, and powers of government over the whole City. Further news came that the Commune was established in other parts of France and in the Netherlands, and that everywhere the cities were forming themselves into municipalities, breaking away from the old traditions and organising themselves. This was not done without considerable opposition. The rights of the Church, the rights of the Barons, the rights of the King, were all invaded by the creation of the Commune. It was, however, a great popular movement, irresistible. It succeeded for a time, but in one city after another it fell to pieces. In England it succeeded greatly, and it continued to extend and to flourish. Meanwhile the merchants of London understood very well that, in this respect, what suited the people of Rouen would suit them. Indeed, the conditions were very similar in the two Cities.[1]
Then began a serious agitation—but not after the modern fashion—among the London citizens in favour of the new civic organisation. Henry the Second would have none of it. In his jealousy of any transfer of power to the people, he allowed no guilds to be formed save with his consent; at one blow he suppressed eighteen “Adulterine” guilds which had thus been created. But he could not suppress the ardent desire of the people for the Commune.
Had the successor of Henry been as wise a King and as clear-sighted as his father, the desire of the City might have been staved off for another generation. But Richard was not Henry. When he was gone upon his crusade, the government was left in the hands of his Chancellor, William Longchamp. And then follows one of those episodes in which the history of London becomes actually the history of the whole country.
Longchamp had become unpopular with all classes. The barons felt the power of his hand and resented it; the merchants found themselves continually subject to extortionate fines, the clergy to exactions. He held all the Royal Castles; he was attended by a guard of a thousand horsemen; he affected the parade of royalty. In considering this personage, it must be remembered that he had many enemies in all ranks, and that his character has been chiefly drawn by his enemies. It was, of course, a great point against him—and always hurled in his teeth—that he was of humble origin; he was also, as a matter of course, charged with every kind of immorality. His haughtiness, which might be excused in his position of Viceroy, was undoubted; it was called by his enemies insolence; and there could be no doubt as to the taxes which he imposed. In the letter written by Hugh, Bishop of Coventry, after Longchamp’s deposition, even ecclesiastical invective seems to have done its very worst. The real reason of the deadly hatred is summed up in the following:—
“To omit other matters, he and his revellers had so exhausted the whole kingdom, that they did not leave a man his belt, a woman her necklace, a nobleman his ring, or anything of value even to a Jew. He had likewise so utterly emptied the King’s treasury, that in all the coffers and bags therein, nothing but the keys could be met with, after the lapse of these last two years.” (Roger de Hoveden, Riley’s trans., vol. ii. p. 235.)
OBVERSE AND ORIGINAL REVERSE OF THE SEAL OF THE CITY OF LONDON, SHOWING FIGURE OF ST. THOMAS À BECKET
From a wax cast in the Guildhall Museum.