The Lily of St. Paul's: a romance of old London. By the author of 'Trevethlan'

Front matter

& Romance of ©to Hon&on. BY THE AUTHOR OF " TREVETHLAN." Nor wight nor might did her no shame, So well she loved her own name. Ckaucer. VOL. I. LONDON: SMITH, ELDER & CO., 65, CORNHILL. 1852. ADVEKTISEMENT. In the Notes annexed to each volume of this work, the Author makes no pretence to any erudition. But, while chiefly intended for readers unable to consult the massive folios of old history, they will, it is hoped, not only shew the authorities upon which much of the narrative is founded, but also afford some pleasant specimens of the spirit and humour of our worthy black-letter chroniclers. CONTENTS TO VOL. L

Chapter I. Page

The Citation ..... 1 CHAPTER H. The Rosary ..... 24 CHAPTER HI. The Riot 51

CHAPTER IV.

Courtship ..... 91

CHAPTER V.

The Merchant of Genoa .... VI CONTENTS

CHAPTER VI. PAGE

The Confessional ..... 143 CHAPTER VH. Palm-Gathering . . . . .160 CHAPTER VUE. The Legacy ..... 186

CHAPTER IX.

Justice Disarmed ..... 221

CHAPTER X.

The Painted Tavern .... 261 Notes ......

CHAPTER I. THE CITATION.

Simony and Civil senten to Rome And put them by appeals on the Pope's grace ; Ac conscience to the King accused them both, And said : Sir King, but clerks amend, The kingdom through their covetise will out of kind wend, And holy church through them were harmed for ever. Piers Ploughman. Turbulence and uproar, all the common elements of popular excitement, were rife around the stately Cathedral of St. Paul, in the City of London, on the morning' of Thursday, the nineteenth day of February, in the year of grace thirteen hundred and VOL. I. B seventy - seven. The magnificent fabric towered proudly towards the sky from amidst an eager and impatient multitude that swarmed in the churchyard, and ever and anon looked anxiously to the great dial in the spire, on which a gilded angel marked with his fingers the passing hours.

The open ground then extended consider ably beyond the houses which now unhappily confine Wren's splendid creation, reaching on the south to Carter-lane, on the north to Paternoster-row, and havingits main entrance between Ave Maria and Creed, or — as the corresponding street was named at the time from the occupation of its in habitants — Spurrier-lane. From the great gates Bowyer's-row led to the old Ludgate, used as a prison for debtors, and said apo cryphally to derive its title from a British King Lud ; and beyond the city-wall the ground sloped rapidly down to the river Fleet, which was crossed by a substantial stone bridge of three arches. The cathedral itself was a vast cruciform structure, of far greater dimensions than the present edifice, the nave and transepts of Norman architecture, the choir and Lady chapel of Gothic.

In the angle formed by the southern transept and the nave, a spacious cloister surrounded the chapter house ; and on the northern side a smaller one, painted with the dance of death, en closed a particular burying'-ground, tenanted by several persons of distinction, and called Pardon Church-haugh. On this side also, towards the west, stood Paul's Cross, a crucifix and pulpit roofed over to protect the preacher from the in clemency of the weather; and the shrowds, a covered space extending along the wall of the church, whither he could repair when such inclemency became distressing to his cono-reo-ation. And between these and Paternoster-row rose the palace of the bishops of London ; an immense pile, which not seldom invited or endured the honour or burden of entertaining royalty. On this February Thursday, then, the churchyard resounded with clamour and confusion, and presented at the same time a brilliant and varied spectacle.

All classes were there represented. Noble and church man, merchant and artisan, courtier and prentice, mingled promiscuously in the rest less throng. Adam Staple, the mayor of London, with his aldermen and guards, was conspicuous in the press. The time was still far distant, when a square uniformity should rule all matters of costume, and texture, rather than colour or fashion, should become the distinctive mark of raijk or calling. In those days cloth of gold was cut in other guise than cloth of frieze. The English nobles adopted the brightest colours in their attire, and combined such as afforded the greatest contrast : the mode of quartered and departed dresses, then just becoming popular, encourag-ed this display : and so a gallant would appear with the right side of his doublet and the left of his hose scarlet, while the left portion of the former garment and the right of the latter were sky-blue.

The tight-fitting surcoats, worn in the earlier part of Edward the Third's reign, were giving place to the flowing and fantastic robes which typified the effeminacy of his unhappy grandson. The old warrior-king had resigned the cares of empire for the smiles of Alice Perrers, and now lay doting in his palace at Sheen, leavingthe Duke of Lancaster to conduct the government : the sumptuary laws which he so often introduced had fallen into the neglect natural to all similar legislation, and the citizens squandered the profits of trade, in aping the extravagance of the nobles. Kusset'and grey were flung off for crimson and gold ; the richest furs, the choicest fabrics of Italy and Asia, were everywhere in request ; the utmost variety prevailed in the shape of mantle and cap : society was anticipating the licence which usually marks the minority of a sovereign.

But while the crowd now surging around the old cathedral exhibited all the colours of the rainbow, it was not wanting in the clouds which must accompany that pheno menon. Ecclesiastical robes of more sober hue relieved the flaunting gaiety of the lay costumes. Dominicans, black friars, had come from their house between the Thames and Ludgate ; grey friars, girt with the cord of St. Francis, from their priory on the site now occupied by Christ's-hospital ; brethren of our Lady of Mount Carmel in their white gowns, from the modern Alsatia ; crutched, or crossed friars, arrayed in a blue robe with a red cross, from the locality to which they bequeathed their name. Black monks of St. Benedict were there from their splendid abbey at Westminster ; Cistercians, or white monks, from East minster, dedicated to St. Mary of the Graces, in Goodman's Fields ; Cluniacs, from their magnificent convent at Ber mondsey.

Here a canon-regular of St. Augustine, from his priory of St. Bartho lomew the Great, swept haughtily along in flowing cloak and high four-cornered cap : there stalked a knight-hospitaller from St. John's, with Maltese cross on his mantle, and long sword trailing on the pavement. Monk, mendicant, and secular priest, hustled one another in the press, and shewed their mutual jealousy in their sullen frowns. All the religious orders which overran London, were there represented : all — save the newly-established Carthusians, confined by their rigid discipline within the walls of the Charter-house. For the occasion of the assemblage was deeply interesting to the ecclesiastical world. In the beginning of the month, a papal bull had been proclaimed from Paul's Cross, by which Pope Gregory XL, after magnifying the power and riches of the English hier archy, and extolling the faith and piety of the English people, charged the heads of the church with apathy and negligence, in that one John Wycliffe had long been scattering pestilential heresy from the chair of divinity at Oxford, and had hitherto escaped the censure of his spiritual superiors.

Where fore his Holiness required Simon, archbishop of Canterbury, and William, bishop of London, to summon the said Wycliffe before them, to take his confession, to transmit a copy thereof to Rome, and to hold him in safe custody until further in structions from the papal court. And in obedience to this bull, the prelates in it named had cited the alleged heresiarch to appear before a convocation to be held on this nineteenth day of February, in the Lady-chapel of St. Paul's, and there to answer touching his doctrine. But while there was thus special reason for ecclesiastical curiosity, the excitement of the laity was scarcely less roused than the zeal of the theologians. Wycliffe, the de clared foe of the cloister — nay, of the priesthood itself as then constituted — was powerfully supported at court.

The Duke of Lancaster, lieutenant of the kingdom, held the reformer in high favour ; the Prin cess Joan, much loved of the people as the relict of their lamented Black Prince, and honoured as the mother of the youngheir apparent, regarded him with great esteem. Rumours were rife that he would not appear to the citation, alone. Now Lancaster was far from being popular at this juncture : the Good Parlia ment, famous in history for the first appearance of a constitutional opposition, and beloved in its day for its hostility to the corruptions of both court and clergy, had only recently been dissolved with some indignity: Sir Peter de la Mare, its speaker, was spirited away no one knew where : a more obsequious assembly was even then sitting at Westminster : Lord Latimer and other discarded ministers were restored to their places at the council-board, and the well-known William of Wykeham was in disgrace.

The great Courtenay family, to which the bishop of London be longed, had sided with the fallen party, the prelate himself being content to merg-e the defence of the church in an assault upon the crown. Gaunt's claim to the throne of Castile was a further source of popular uneasiness ; and there were even whispers abroad of some design upon the succession at home. An occasion like the present, therefore, was full of those elements of strife which never fail to stimulate the public appetite for excitement. And to one portion of the crowd this excitement contained the seeds of both hope and fear. Foreigners of many nations, residents and visitors, mingled in the con fusion, and watched and increased the cla mour. Merchants of Lombardy paced to and fro, speculating on the chances of riot, and trembling to think that they would be the first victims of any outbreak.

Artisans of Flanders, whose fathers might have borne arms under the Arteveldes, observed the s}7mptoms of turbulence, and shrank from the menaces of their English rivals. Spanish adventurers longed for the day when the Duke of Lancaster would raise his standard, and lead them to fight for the crown of Castile. In a corner of the churchyard, a troop of gipsy jugglers concentrated the rascality of the throng, and sought to gather a few pence from its respectability, by feats of strength and dexterity. Of French, indeed, there were few ; for the hollow truce then subsisting with their country, was too liable to be broken at a day's notice. But even with out them, the confusion of tongues might shew what large advantage had been taken of that liberality of our third Edward, which invited the commerce, and arts, and learning of all lands to contribute to the magnificence of England.

The hour for the reformer's appearance was now at hand, and expectation, raised beyond control, began to vent itself in tumult. Wordy wars arose between the retainers of great houses, distinguished by their liveries and badges. From without Bishopsgate came the followers of the Earl of Devon, father of the bishop of London ; from Aldersgate, men in red attached to the Nevils of Westmoreland ; from Woodstreet, men in blue and buff, serving the Percys of Northumberland ; and from Bay nard's Castle, people in the red and white uniform of Lord Fitzwalter, the city standard-bearer. And so sharp were the re partees exchanged, that the sanctity of the ground seemed alone to prevent more serious encounters. And scapegrace ap prentices, in their longblue gowns, darted to and fro among the press, now shouting "privilege" at the side of a proud noble, now insulting a friar with some of the rhyming latin of Golias.

And from Paul's Cross, a Dominican, with hood thrown back and crucifix in hand, was flinging fire and brimstone among the people, fiercely de nouncing the great enemy of the mendicants, yet not sparing the pride of the English hierarchy. But the attention of his hearers was ever and anon diverted to the gates of the churclvyard ; and when at length an un usual rumour arose in that quarter, the congregation deserted in a body, hurrying to swell the throng which undulated in front of the cathedral ; while the friar, descending from his pulpit, hastened to obtain a position upon the steps leading to the great western portal. From that elevation, he could see a body of men advancing from Ludgate, thrusting the populace aside with long staves, and forcing a passage to the gates, not without using considerable violence, and exciting considerable ill -blood.

Some of them, wearing caps of yellow cloth with a lion rampant embroidered in blue on the front, were the retainers of Lord Henry Percy, Earl-Marshal of England. Others, upon whose jackets the royal arms were quartered with those of Castile, exulted in serving John, Duke of Lancaster. Driving the people back from the gateway, and provoking loud shouts of " privilege" from voices more manly than those which had before uttered that ominous word, these javelin-men cleared a space of ground sufficient to admit three persons who fol lowed close behind them on horseback. Two of the riders were men in the prime of life ; the earl-marshal, richly habited in the colours of his house, with a cap of cloth of gold and the Percy lion ; and Gaunt himself, distinguished by the regu lar features and fiery eye of the Planta genets, wearing a single ostrich feather with a long ermine quill in a high black cap, and a mantle of purple velvet be sprinkled with fleurs -de - lys.

Between them rode an elderly man of grave and reverend aspect, arrayed in the flowing robe and furred hood of a doctor of divi nity. This was the celebrated reformer, John Wycliffe. Lancaster and Perc}7 reined up their horses at the g-ates of the churchyard, and sprang to the ground at the same moment. The duke himself assisted Wy cliffe to dismount. Then, amidst shouts of " way for a Percy," " way for his grace of Lancaster," the rattling of staves, and the boding shouts of " privilege," the two nobles advanced, ever havingthe reformer between them, to the doors of the church. But even there the struggle was not at an end. The whole nave had become filled with an angry multitude, indignant at the evident attempt to overbear their bishop, and eager to exclude Wycliffe's partisans. So that only after a tedious progress, and vol. i. c much violence both by word and deed, unworthy so sacred a place and so solemn an errand, did the impeached doctor at last stand between his patrons, before the synod in the Lady-chapel, the extreme eastern portion of the cathedral.

There, patient and tranquil, in the splendid array that marked their rank and office, sat Sudbury, the metropolitan, Courtenay, bishop of the diocese, Nicholas Litlington, abbot of Westminster, and the other dignitaries summoned to assist at the inquisition. Little space, however, was their tranquillity destined to endure. Scarcely had even breathing time been accorded to the new-comers, when Cour tenay, unable to restrain his anger at the protection vouchsafed to the reformer, im petuously addressed the earl-marshal. " Had I foreseen your mastery, my lord Percy," he exclaimed, " I had surely stayed you from coming hither." "By our Lady!" cried Lancaster, "such mastery shall he have, say nay, lord bishop, you or who will, here or anywhere." " Sit, Master Wycliffe," Percy then said to the reformer, who had remained stand ing : " much have you to say, and a seat befits your age."

" It befits not," observed Courtenay, sullenly, "that one should sit in presence of his ordinary. Let him stand." "How say you?" exclaimed Lancaster, who was still chafing at the resistance which had been offered to his approach. " My lord Percy's motion is in reason. Sit, Master Wycliffe. And for 37ou, lord bishop, so proud and arrogant, I will pluck down the insolence, not only of you, but of all the prelacy of England. You trust in the help of your kinsmen : by our Lad}7 ! they shall have enough to help themselves." Meantime Courtenay had recovered from his first irritation, and perceived the ad vantage afforded him by Lancaster's in temperance. " My trust," he answered with dignity, " is not in kinsmen, nor in any man else ; but only in God do I put my trust, by whose help I will be bold to say the truth."

No language of indignation could have inflamed Gaunt's anger like these simple words. All the fire of his blood flashed in his eyes as he muttered to his com panion : — "Now, rather than bear this at Bishop Courtenay's hands, I will drag him by the hair out of his church." Low as the threat was uttered, it was yet apprehended. The nearest bystanders, listening eagerly to every word, and ob serving every gesture, caught the sense of Lancaster's exclamation, or read it in his mien : it circulated rapidly from mouth to mouth ; at every remove it gathered new gravity : the popular indignation, hitherto restrained with difficulty, burst suddenly into one wild flame of riot. The vaulted roof of the cathedral rang with the shouts of the multitude. The pressure on the Lady -chapel grew every moment more alarming.

Wherever the duke or Percy turned, they met looks, or heard words, such as are only too surely the heralds of deeds. Peace hung upon a breath. The scanty band of retainers who had succeeded in accompanying their lords, was quite inadequate to their support in the PAUL S. event of a fray ; every instant brought one nearer : there was no alternative but to withdraw, and no time to lose. Chafing at the thought, Lancaster yet yielded to the necessity, and ordered his men to clear a way. Wycliffe, who from first to last had not uttered a single word, retired with his protectors. But their retreat was even more difficult than their coming. The press and con fusion had greatly increased ; and many a citizen was struck down, and some of the javelin-men learned the strength of a city arm, before the doors of the church were reached.

More than once did Gaunt, in his fury, clutch the hilt of his sword • and another moment might have added a dark page to the annals of London. But happily the duke held his hand, until, on approaching the portal, the pressure from behind overpowered that in front ; and the nobles soon found themselves borne past the threshold, and reinforced by such of their followers as had remained outside.

Chapter II. The Rosary

In her is high beauty w ithouten pride, Youth withouten greenhead or folie ; To all her workes virtue is her guide ; Humblesse in her hath slayen tyranny : She is the mirror of all courtesy : Her heart a very chambre of holiness, Her hand ministre of freedom for almesse. Chaucer. Paternoster-row, even at the date of this narrative, was partly inhabited by the legitimate precursors of those patrons of literature who in more modern times have earned for the locality a celebrity as wide as the world. It would not be easy now to lay down the precise topography of a district, much changed even by Queen Elizabeth's reign. A great space sur rounding the present Stationers'-hall was occupied by the mansion and gardens of the Pembroke family, which passed afterwards into the possession of the king-making Earl of Warwick, and thus acquired a name which still survives in the neighbourhood.

The old clients of St. Nicholas had their shambles on the site of Newgate-market. And it may be conjectured, without much violation of probability, that Paternoster row and Ave Maria-lane, formed a single line of houses, overlooking St. Paul's Churchyard, and skirtinga thoroughfare leading round its northern wall from West Cheap, or Cheapside, to Bowyer's-row. To describe one of those houses is to describe the general appearance of all. A pent-house or booth, capable of being closed in front with shutters, and forming a shop, projected into the street from the ground floor, and was overhung by the upper stories ; of which each advanced, in the manner still seen in old buildings, beyond the one beneath, the uppermost being shaded by the fantastic gable terminating the roof. Windows abounded in the in tervals between the timbers, and were fenced from the weather, in some places with horn, in others only with thin laths crossed lattice-wise.

An inscription on the front of the booth told the name and calling of the occupant, and was illustrated by a sign suspended over the road. Such a sign was a gilt rosary near the western end of the Row. It adorned a booth or shop, along the upper beam of which was written, in elaborate old English characters : — &1B&M ŒYNSgasniB, 33fatimak_r anU '®txuWixiltx : and so denoted an inhabitant, whose occu pation was one of no small importance in days when printing was unknown. In its narrow sense, indeed, it merely desig nated a writer of alphabets and primers, a copyist of short prayers or beads, Pater nosters and Ave Marias, and of texts from the Missal. Such had been the father of Adam Tynwald. But the present proprietor of the Rosary had aspired beyond those rudiments of the mystery of publication.

He had ventured to compete with the Scrip toria of the monasteries, in producing more important works. It was true those writ ing-rooms, which contributed so greatly both to the preservation and destruction of ancient literature, were formidable opponents to all lay-scribes, and had been much increased in number duringthe current cen tury, by the friars ; who, coming into the land in the guise of beggars, had speedily made themselves splendid houses in all di rections. But the encouragement afforded to letters at the polite court of Edward III., in some measure compensated this disadvan tage. Monk and friar might still with their legends and fables profane the parchment once ennobled by the annals of Tacitus or the philosophy of Cicero, but a taste for other reading had already made consider able progress.

The romances of Normandy were in great vogue : from them was shortly to be compiled the popular history of King Arthur ; even the new poets of Italy were sought after ; Chaucer and Gower were writing in English ; and recently, to the horror of the priesthood, Wycliffe had adopted the vulgar tongue in controversy, and thereby made appeal to that common sense of mankind, which sooner or later will pass judgment on all literature. Such a work as " The Poor Caitiff" was not likely to find favour with the monastic writers, and for its publication, as we should say, Wycliffe had sought the aid of Adam Tynwald. The acquaintance thus begun ripened gradually into friendship ; and the Evangelic Doctor never visited London without calling, an honoured guest, at the sign of the Rosary. Difficult, therefore, it would be, to exag gerate the interest which Tynwald felt in the event of the reformer's citation to St. Paul's. On that important morning the beadmaker, a man about fifty years of age, sat in the great chamber of his house, a room which occupied all the front of the first floor, and was lighted by two large windows overlooking the churchyard.

Against the wood-work of one of these leaned a fair girl of nineteen, who described to T/ynwald the disorder and tumult which attended the arrival of Wycliffe and his protectors, until they effected their entry into the cathedral. And why did the beadmaker require to learn these particulars by report ? Why might he not watch for himself a spectacle so interesting? Tynwald was blind. Enthu siastic in the pursuit to which his father had reared him, he had suffered zeal to outrun discretion, and had early impaired his sight by poring too eagerly over the minute orna ments wherewith he was wont to illustrate his more precious manuscripts ; and now, al though he was a hale man in other respects, the windows of his house were darkened. While yet his sight was good, he had loved the works which issued from his hands, almost like children, and parted with them to his customers with a pang for which the price seemed but a trivial compensation.

Each was unique : not as now, when the labour of the artist is multiplied a thou sandfold, and yet remains to himself: but Tynwald's parting was for ever. And what price was ever adequate to the enthusiast's love for the beauty and grace which sprung from his teeming fancy, and were embodied by his master-hand ? Even still, when the beadmaker passed his finger over a splendid initial letter upon vellum, and felt the rich ness of the illuminating colours, a transient sigh would express his regret for the days when, with his own hands, he was wont to execute those florid decorations. His daughter, for such was the relation in which the maiden stood to him, was simply attired in a robe of blue, having long pendant sleeves, and confined at the waist by a slight girdle of silver, from which hung a rosary of carved ebony beads.

A profusion of bright yellow hair escaped in natural ringlets from a silken net on the crown of her head, and pensive eyes of deep blue beamed from the coun tenance of the " Lily of St. Paul's." "Alas ! " said the beadmaker, when Lilian had completed her narration with the disappearance of Wycliffe and his patrons within the church, — " alas ! my child, not so, me thinks, should John Wycliffe have come to judgment. Must Truth be heralded with pikes and staves ? Needeth she the help of lords and princes ? Are violence and tumult her proper harbingers? Can her soft voice be heard amid passion and con flict ? Why came not the rector of Lutter worth in his own simple character, as a doctor of the church, as a minister of the Gospel? So, surely it better befitted the holiness of his calling, the greatness of his mission.

And where was the danger ? Praised be God ! we have no writ yet in England for the combustion of heretics. The disciples of St. Dominic have not yet so far prevailed." For some time Tynwald remained silent, after slowly uttering these reflections. His daughter, who had listened to his words with eagerness, turned to gaze again on the crowd in the churchyard. But at length the beadmaker re-demanded her attention. " Seest thou thy brother, my Lilian ? " he asked. D VOL. I. The maiden looked a while through the window, and presently opened her eyes very wide. " Father," she said, " would you believe it? He has climbed into a niche, and seems to mock a friar, who is threatening him, as I may judge by his gestures." " Scapegrace ! " exclaimed Tynwald, smiling, nevertheless. " And Raymond, is he at hand, my child ?

" "Raymond leans against a buttress below, and seems to take no part. — Yet stay : the friar has beckoned to a city pikeman; and Raymond — but hark, my father ! " For at that moment a loud shout broke from the interior of the cathedral, and was followed by continuous uproar. The beadmaker rose in evident excitement, and came to his daughter's side. "Wrap thy kerchief round thy neck, and open the casement, my girl," he said. " My ears are quick since my sight failed." But it was impossible accurately to dis tinguish the nature of the confusion which supervened. There were the hurrying of feet, the clashing of staves, cries rising louder and louder of " our bishop" — " privilege" — " save our bishop." "Ah! father," said Lilian, "there's a rush from the great doors ; see, they fly out, and look back : they are coming faster and faster : one has rolled down the stair : and my lord's men are forcing their way to the doors : and there is one in the like livery thrust forth : and another: and my lords themselves: and Master Wycliffe: — but hark, my father, how the people are shouting !

" " What happens now, Lilian, what happens ? " " The parties unite, and the people are beat back. Master Staple seems imploring for peace, and the duke threatens him with his hand. But now they have reached their horses ; and they mount, and ride roundly from the gates." " This fray will not end here," said the beadmaker, sadly. " Close the lattice, my child ; we will learn the rest from Raymond and Kenelm." And not long afterwards two striplings entered the chamber : one, about two years younger than Lilian, whose likeness to the maiden at once proclaimed him to be her brother ; although there was in his aspect a thoughtless gaiety very different from the pensiveness which habitually sat upon hers : ■the other, nearly as much her senior, whose dark hair, olive complexion, and full, soft, yet flashing eyes bespoke a southern ex traction.

Ra}7mond Gualtier was the son of a Genoese merchant, who had broug-ht him, when almost an infant, to London, and had been murdered, after a few yeare residence, while defending his house from one of those mobs which occasionally rose against Edward the Third's encouragement of foreign arti sans ; and upon which that politic sovereign always inflicted a severe chastisement. Gual tier's property was scattered and destroyed ; and the little Ra}-mond, left entirely desti tute, and forgotten when the tumult was over, was charitably adopted by Tynwald, who had been intimate with his father, reared as one of the famil}-, and educated in its calling. And when the beadmaker lost his own wife a few years afterwards, and in her the helpmate who to some extent re paired his want of sight, the young Ray mond repaid his benefactor's kindness, by taking her place in the writing-room, and superintending the business.