The final excursion of the year took us outside of London’s walls and into the city proper, where we considered how London both expelled and embraced the people, professions and communities situated on the south bank of the Thames, and in particular studied the relationship between the Church and the more debauched citizens who made their residences there.

During our study of Medieval and early modern London Southwark has always been the area in which professions frowned upon were banished to in order to not sully the morality of the men and women who lived within the city walls. Being situated just opposite the city made it an ideal place to found businesses that were all considered taboo: tanner’s shops, brothels, taverns and at a later date, playhouses. We focused our study on a few of these and considered how they affected the city itself.

Taverns in terms of prestige were an establishment that was often middling on the social scale, enabling them to cater for the well-off or rich merchants of London. They were vital places for common people to meet, and were often very effective ways to disseminate information to a predominantly illiterate society.  They were also ways in which the common people could spread ideas, which often worried the elite and upper classes who were unused to the beginnings of self-awareness shown in cases such as the Great Revolt of 1381.

Taverns and brothels were often very similar establishments and the two weren’t entirely separate; they often doubled as both in order to attract a wider variety of clientele. As

prostitution wasn’t allowed in the City of London itself Southwark became the next best area to establish the business. In general the profession was frowned upon but was largely considered a necessary vice in order to prevent sins considered worse from happening – such as sodomy. This gave the men of London access to prostitutes they would otherwise have been unable to procure, and they often traveled across the Thames to frequent the brothels.

Interestingly, despite being so thoroughly damned by the Catholic Church many of the brothels in Southwark were owned by the Bishop of Winchester.

Though prostitutes were effectively ostracized from the community by the church it was interesting to see how the ecclesiastical world collided with the material, baronial world as religious leaders who held lands would often grow rich from collecting rent from the very establishments they condemned.

A final, very interesting item of study were the playhouses established in Southwark, particularly the Globe theater. Opened in 1599 it saw the meteoric rise in popularity that theater gained and profited from it, despite the initial suspicion that the clergy and the nobility had for plays that could potentially form a social critique on the society in which they ruled. The success of playhouses, though partly due to the patronage of monarchs like Elizabeth I and James I, were the small amount needed to pay to witness a play. This meant that all strata of society rubbed shoulders and could comment on the questions that the play raised. As one of the few areas where the common man could interact with the upper classes playhouses were novel areas where the traditional boundaries in Medieval society were blurred.

This week, we explored the unique connection between the crown and the church and their linked and individual power in our visit to Westminster Abbey and the National Portrait Gallery, a relationship that still exists today. 

The first thing we looked, perfectly exemplifying this relationship, was the coronation chair. This iconic seat, housed in the Abbey where coronations have taken place since 1066 with the coronation of William the Conqueror, has been used in coronations for centuries.

Walking around Westminster Abbey, we learned how the placement of one’s grave was significant to their social status, even in death. Therefore, Edward the Confessor’s shrine which is the only shrine remaining in England, which we managed to admire during the 11 o’clock prayer, is in the premium spot before the altar, surrounded by his successors, such as Henry III who championed him.

Dr Poleg even got to sit on the special chair of the prayer leader in front of the shrine!

We also admired the Lady’s Chapel which houses the burial sites for several dead monarchs, including the sister Queens, Mary I and Elizabeth I, who are buried together. 

Like our last excursion, architecture played a large part in the learning experience and we discussed the Gothic style in which the Abbey was constructed. We also talked about the unique roof supports and how the weight was distributed mostly outside of the Abbey. The pillars  inside are more decorative to fit with the Gothic style, intended to draw your eye to the high ceiling and give the impression of a large and open space.

The Tudor room of the National Portrait Gallery, on the very top floor of the building, is a room full of the rich imagery of royal propaganda and the cult of power cultivated by rulers in both the medieval and early modern period.

The imagery found in the coronation portrait of Elizabeth I, mirroring that of Richard II in Westminster Abbey, presents her as the perpetually-youthful ruler invested with all the accoutrements of royal power.  

The Holbein portrait of Henry VIII presents the image of a virile, wise and imposing king and the portrait of Edward VI conveys a figure almost identical to that of his father, even down to a larger stomach added in the editing of the image. Portraits of Mary I show a harsh, authoritarian ruler, staring down at the viewer.

Such images are congruent with the images rulers have presented of themselves since the early Medieval period. The portraiture of monarchs are essential in understanding their reigns as they project the idealised image of the ruler, how they wished to be presented. Images of wealth, power and knowledge are translated onto these canvases.

One of the most stunning examples of this manipulation of imagery is in the portraits of Elizabeth I. In all her images she is the ever-youthful, beautiful ruler, not out of vanity but to present her enduring power, capability and skill as a ruler. Her youthful visage represents her enduring image throughout history.

This week we were engaging with archaeological and document evidence to discover more about the Death and its impact on London. The first stop on our tour was the Royal Mint. Unfortunately, the site was closed to us last minute as there has always been a difficult relationship between the present day mint and the archaeological site beneath. Beneath the Royal Mint is the site of St. Mary Graces a Cistercian abbey built in 1350. After the arrival of plague in London in 1348 the cemetery was expanded to cater for the extra dead. In 1980s the Royal mint was rebuilt and excavated, revealing three mass trenches with 762 graves and 213 coffins. Much of the writing and documentary evidence about the Black Death suggests there was a complete breakdown of society. However, the neat graves of the plague pits and St. Mary Graces suggest a high level of planning and order.
Next, we passed through Jewry Street and briefly stopped off at the Holy Trinity Priory. The name Jewry Street reflects the medieval reality. We know Jews lived here because excavations have exposed artefacts used in Jewish rituals. However, since the expulsion of the Jews in 1290 no Jews have lived here for 700 years. Streets like this show us how little the layout and street names change in London.

Holy trinity priory was one of the most influential monasteries in London. Established by Queen Matilda around 1108. As a result of the Black Death there was a decline in donations and like many of the other monasteries in London the Holy trinity Priory went bankrupt in 1532 before the Dissolution of the monasteries in 1536. A part of the building still survives today and this shows us that the only medieval buildings that survive today are those whose owners have considerable wealth and power: buildings connected either to the monarchy, guilds or the church.

Our last stop was Guildhall, with our particular interest being the archives kept there. A lot of the evidence we have for the Black Death comes from original documents, such as those kept at the Guildhall archives. These documents gave us information beyond that of the text itself. Though, at best, we had rudimentary Latin and the script was difficult to read we were still able to appreciate the document itself due to the condition the manuscripts had been kept in. Many still had their original attachments such as seals which were used to authenticate documents. The first document we examined closely was a deed for the exchange of property between recently widowed mother and daughter during the Black Death. It showed that there were changes in society that necessitated the need to take more care of each other but it also demonstrates that there was not a breakdown in society. Like the trenches of the plague pits, the documents reflect that things are not being done randomly but with planning and in an orderly fashion. The document is part of a series of manuscripts for the same family both during and after the advent of the plague. The seals attached to the documents belong to the company of Weavers and therefore reflects the responsibility of guilds to look after their own.

Guildhall was built between 1411 and 1440 and survived both the Great Fire of London and the Blitz, making it is the only secular stone structure dating from before 1666 left still standing in the City. The word ‘guildhall’ is said to derive from the Anglo-Saxon ‘gild’ meaning payment, so it was probably where citizens paid their taxes but it was also where the ruling merchant class held court, fine-tuned the laws and trading regulations that helped create London’s wealth. During the Tudor period it was the setting for famous trials, including those of Anne Askew, Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, Lady Jane Grey, and Thomas Cranmer. The main role of the guilds was to protect the quality and reputation of a trade and the members of a company, but they also played a role in parish business and religious observance. The power, both economic and political, wielded by the medieval guilds was immense. By the early 14th century, no-one could practice a trade, set up shop, take apprentices or vote unless they were admitted to a livery company.

Following the footsteps of the rebels in the Peasants Revolt allow us to observe the unique characteristics of London and gather information needed to relate to the rebels through means of visuals and sensations. We began our journey by crossing the London Bridge. The dominating landscape of the city ahead was hard to ignore and relating it to the views of the rebels crossing the bridge initially seemed relatively easy until we faced problems and differences with modern London. In actuality, the London Bridge would have been the only bridge across the Thames into London, meaning that the already crowded bridge we encountered, would have been much more crowded and noisy as well as supporting stacked-up shops.

Throughout our journey we ran into various street names such as Whitefriars Street, Lombard Street and Fish Street Hill, which derived their names from the congregations created in medieval London. This not only allows us to imagine what a street of fishmongers might have looked like but also gives us information as to where certain markets, temples or shops would have been located. Additionally, it tells us that, contrary to buildings, the location of roads primarily remained the same.

Next we stopped by a WH Smith in Cannon Street, to uncover that inside it was one of past London’s biggest treasures. The real story behind the London Stone is not fully agreed upon, but it is a fact that for centuries it was placed at a central position in the city, in Candlewick Street, being a local landmark. If it was used primarily as a reference for measures or as a religious site, we cannot say with certainty.

Just around the corner was Walbrook Street, a street that would have been a flowing brook in medieval London. Up the road we encountered St. Stephen Walbrook, a 15^th century church that was rebuilt after the Great Fire of London and now is designed, like many of the building we came across, in the style of Christopher Wren. Interestingly, the initial site of the church was located on the west of the brook and is now situated on the east. This not only highlights the differences between medieval and modern London but also highlights the similarities in our attempts to preserve history.

In the grounds of Saint Paul’s Cathedral we passed by Saint Paul’s Cross. In the absence of mass media, this pulpit was where most news was announced and public comments were made. In 14th century London, this was where public opinions were fomented

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We then moved on to the Pater Noster, which was the centre of London’s publishing trade. The first Bible written in English language was transcribed there and the street used to be filled with markets selling scribe-related items.

Lastly, we marched down the Strand to the opulent Savoy Hotel, the place where the original Savoy Mansion used to be. It was the house of the Duke of Lancaster that was completely destroyed by the peasants during the Peasants Revolt in 1381, making it the perfect ending to our tour and leaving us thinking, do the spirit of the city and its places really ever change?