SANCTUARY CROSSES
When criminals sought refuge in ancient sanctuaries, such as Durham, Beverley, Ripon, Manchester, and other places which provided the privilege, having claimed sanctuary and been provided with a distinctive dress, they were allowed to wander within certain prescribed limits. At Beverley Minster the fugitive from justice could wander with no fear of capture to a distance extending a mile from the church in all directions. Richly carved crosses marked the limit of the sanctuary. A peculiar reverence for the cross protected the fugitives from violence if they kept within the bounds. In Cheshire, in the wild region of Delamere Forest, there are several ancient crosses erected for the convenience of travellers; and under their shadows they were safe from robbery and violence at the hands of outlaws, who always respected the reverence attached to these symbols of Christianity.
CROSSES AS GUIDE-POSTS
In wild moorland and desolate hills travellers often lost their way. Hence crosses were set up to guide them along the trackless heaths. They were as useful as sign-posts, and conveyed an additional lesson. You will find such crosses in the desolate country on the borderland of Yorkshire and Lancashire. They were usually placed on the summit of hills. In Buckinghamshire there are two crosses cut in the turf on a spur of the Chilterns, Whiteleaf and Bledlow crosses, which were probably marks for the direction of travellers through the wild and dangerous woodlands, though popular tradition connects them with the memorials of ancient battles between the Saxons and Danes.
From time out of mind crosses have been the rallying point for the discussion of urgent public affairs. It was so in London. Paul's Cross was the constant meeting-place of the citizens of London whenever they were excited by oppressive laws, the troublesome competition of "foreigners," or any attempt to interfere with their privileges and liberties. The meetings of the shire or hundred moots took place often at crosses, or other conspicuous or well-known objects. Hundreds were named after them, such as the hundred of Faircross in Berkshire, of Singlecross in Sussex, Normancross in Huntingdonshire, and Brothercross and Guiltcross, or Gyldecross, in Norfolk.
Stories and legends have clustered around them. There is the famous Stump Cross in Cheshire, the subject of one of Nixon's prophecies. It is supposed to be sinking into the ground. When it reaches the level of the earth the end of the world will come. A romantic story is associated with Mab's Cross, in Wigan, Lancashire. Sir William Bradshaigh was a great warrior, and went crusading for ten years, leaving his beautiful wife, Mabel, alone at Haigh Hall. A dastard Welsh knight compelled her to marry him, telling her that her husband was dead, and treated her cruelly; but Sir William came back to the hall disguised as a palmer. Mabel, seeing in him some resemblance to her former husband, wept sore, and was beaten by the Welshman. Sir William made himself known to his tenants, and raising a troop, marched to the hall. The Welsh knight fled, but Sir William followed him and slew him at Newton, for which act he was outlawed a year and a day. The lady was enjoined by her confessor to do penance by going once a week, bare-footed and bare-legged, to a cross near Wigan, two miles from the hall, and it is called Mab's Cross to this day. You can see in Wigan Church the monument of Sir William and his lady, which tells this sad story, and also the cross—at least, all that remains of it—the steps, a pedestal, and part of the shaft—in Standisgate, "to witness if I lie." It is true that Sir William was born ten years after the last of the crusades had ended; but what does that matter? He was probably fighting for his king, Edward II, against the Scots, or he was languishing a prisoner in some dungeon. There was plenty of fighting in those days for those who loved it, and where was the Englishman then who did not love to fight for his king and country, or seek for martial glory in other lands, if an ungrateful country did not provide him with enough work for his good sword and ponderous lance?
Such are some of the stories that cluster round these crosses. It is a sad pity that so many should have been allowed to disappear. More have fallen owing to the indifference and apathy of the people of England in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries than to the wanton and iconoclastic destruction of the Puritans. They are holy relics of primitive Christianity. On the lonely mountainsides the tired traveller found in them a guide and friend, a director of his ways and an uplifter of his soul. In the busy market-place they reminded the trader of the sacredness of bargains and of the duty of honest dealing. Holy truths were proclaimed from their steps. They connected by a close and visible bond religious duties with daily life; and not only as objects of antiquarian interest, but as memorials of the religious feelings, habits, and customs of our forefathers, are they worthy of careful preservation.