John Peake, Lord Mayor, was entertained by the Mercers' Company. The coat and crest of this company is a virgin with dishevelled hair, and this virgin and mystery they always made the most of in their trade pageants. The maiden chariot in which she generally rode on these occasions was made of beaten and embossed silver, drawn by nine white Flemish mares, three abreast, in rich trappings of silver and white feathers. The lady was splendidly attired in white satin, adorned with jewels, and was surrounded by young ladies representing all the virtues; but what comes next is the most astounding. The virgin and all her fair bevy of attendants had their table provided for them in the hall, and dined in state on the dais. Imagine the sensation such a bevy of virgins must have made among the younger members of the craft. These ladies were not, however, of doubtful character, such as we imagine would be likely to offer themselves for these public shows; but their respectability was guaranteed by a committee chosen to select them; at least such was the case in 1704, when Sir William Gore was entertained by the Mercers, for we find it recorded that the virgin on that occasion was "a young and beautiful gentlewoman, of good parentage, religious education, and unblemisht reputation;" and we must of course suppose that all her handmaidens were to match.
A reredos or screen generally ran across these old halls to divide them from the buttery hatch, as we see it now does in the dining-hall of the Middle Temple. In the gallery above this the musicians were posted, and we find it was the custom to "send the hat round" for these worthies, as we see it recorded that at a dinner of the Brewers' Company the clerk collected 20d. in the hall for "the harper minstrel." We must suppose that on state occasions a certain staid and sad gravity was maintained; but on ordinary festivals, after dinner, the pageants commenced. This was a much easier matter to manage than may be imagined. The pageant was generally kept in the open timber roof; it was let down with cords, and the simple play began. In the early days it was illustrative of some Scripture passage, such as Noah descending from the ark with his sons, or the sacrifice of Isaac; and our forefathers, after they had had their dinner and wine, were wonderfully tolerant of all shortcomings. Like boys at play, the same old toy afforded them amusement for a very long time. On grand occasions, when they indulged in out-of-door pageants, they threw an air of poetry into these displays. When, for instance, a lord mayor was chosen from their guild, some special entertainment was made to entertain him in his passage through the streets, or along the river, for there were water pageants as well as land pageants. The land pageants were exhibited on a movable stage. Poets, we are told, were engaged to compose what were called "projects," or arrangements of scenes, with character, song, and dialogue descriptive of the company of the lord mayor elect. In the water spectacle of Sir Thomas Middleton, grocer, in 1613, the pageant consisted of "five islands, artfully garnished with all manner of Indian fruit trees, drugges, spiceries, and the like, the middle island having a faire castle especially beautiful," in allusion to the forts of the newly-established East India Company, which gave an immense impetus to the trade of the company. These islands must have been movable ones, placed on boats. All the other great companies had solemn entertainments on the occasion of having a lord mayor elected from their body; so that with the home plaything kept in the roof of the halls, the royal pageants, when kings entered or returned from the wars (such as those given to Henry V. after Agincourt, and to Henry VII. after Bosworth), and the setting of the midsummer watch,—a kind of civic guard for the protection of the city, in which all the companies vied with each other in the magnificent manner in which they turned out their contingent to this grand middle-ages procession—we may imagine what a merry time those old gentlemen had whose effigies we see on old monuments, the very pictures of sad sedateness and gravity, which, in common with many of cur notions of the habits of our forefathers, are wholly delusive.
But if the City Companies knew how to amuse themselves, they also in time of necessity played an important part in the affairs of the country. Henry VII. early saw the value of these bodies as a protection to the crown against the nobility, and he ingratiated himself with them by becoming a member of the Taylors' Company, and sat with them in the open hall, clothed in the livery of their craft. James I. became a member of the Clothworkers' Company, and the grand festival given in honour of the occasion of his inauguration was celebrated by two events. Inigo Jones arranged the pageant; and in the old hall of the company the glorious anthem, "God Save the King," was first heard, Dr. John Bull having composed it for the occasion. Charles II. and William III. were also members of city companies. But this connection of the companies with royalty was dearly purchased, as they speedily came to be looked upon as milch cows in all cases of state impecuniositius.