For a period in the 12th century, London’s Easter celebrations included the roisterous and popular spectator sport of tilting – also known as quintain – on the Thames. As there is so little evidence of any kind of river activities at this time, it is remarkable that a contemporary description of the river quintain has survived to provide a rare social historical record of how Londoners enjoyed themselves on festive Easter days.
This Easter tournament seems to have been a far cry from the courtly tilting spectacles played out by medieval knights, or from the later ceremonial tournaments we associate with the court of Henry VIII. This event provided an opportunity for Londoners of any social class to participate in, and to display their skills in a sport usually reserved for the upper ranks of society, albeit in a different format and without horses. Indeed, even if the considerable resources required to take part in such knightly activities were available to young Londoners it was forbidden, under the rules of chivalry, for anyone below the rank of Esquire to take part in jousts and tournaments. Not to be deterred by this, ingenious Londoners developed their own ‘tourneys’ – the Easter River Quintain being one of them.
William Fitzstephen (died around 1190/1191) was the first writer to mention this Easter event in his Description of the City of London, written in Latin around 1175. His account of the contest – and explanation of the rules – make it easy for us to understand why it was a very popular fixture of London’s Easter festivities, and why it attracted so many spectators. He tells us that:
‘ … a target is strongly fastened to a trunk or mast, fixed in the middle of the river, and a youngster standing upright in the stern of a boat, made to move as fast as the oars and current can carry it, is to strike the target with his lance.’
Fitzstephen goes on to explain that the object is for the contestant to hit the target with enough force to break his lance whist remaining in the boat. If he manages to do this, he gains his point. If, however, the lance does not break, the force of the blow would send the young man into the water and ‘away goes his vessel without him.’ All was not lost for the unsuccessful contestant, however, as there were a ‘couple of boats full of young men’ placed on either side of the target who were ready to rescue him as soon as he surfaced. It can be assumed that the success rate of striking the target and breaking the lance was pretty low, given that we are told that the main ‘business’ of the many spectators is ‘to laugh’. The hoots of derision with which a dropped lance or a complete miss of the target would be met can only be imagined. The inherent jeopardy of the sport would have doubtless contributed to the popularity of the event, which saw the ‘bridge and the balconies on the banks’ of the river, ‘filled with spectators.’
The ‘bridge’ to which Fitzstephen refers was London Bridge, as that was the only bridge spanning the river in London. It is tempting to imagine the viewing crowds thronging the roadway and buildings of London’s first stone bridge, but as this was not completed until around 1209, he would have been writing about the earlier wooden bridge. It is possible, however, that the Easter Thames quintain tournament continued after Fitzstephen’s account of the 1170s. Some evidence for this can be seen in the 14th century illustration of a river quintain in the Royal Library Collection (see illustration below). This suggests that Thames quintains had a long and continuing history.
There seems to be no further account of similar sporting events on the Thames until 1603, when John Stow wrote that:
‘I have seen also in the summer season upon the river of Thames, some rowed in wherries, with staves in their hands, flat at the fore-end, running one against another and, for the most part, one or both of them were overthrown and well ducked.’
Stow makes no mention of the usual crowds of spectators who turned out to see such rough spectacles. It is difficult to believe, however, that such an event would have taken place without it being witnessed – as Fitzstephen would have said – by the ‘great numbers to see and laugh thereat.’