In Tibet, a popular ordeal consists in both plaintiff and defendant thrusting their arms into a caldron of boiling water containing a black and white stone, victory being assigned to the one who is fortunate enough to obtain the white. Such an even-handed mode of procedure, if generally used, must, as Mr Lea remarks, ‘exert a powerful influence in repressing litigation.’
Among further curious specimens of ordeal trial mentioned by this author may be noticed those in use in certain parts of Africa. Thus, the Kalabarese draw a white and black line on the skull of a chimpanzee, which is then held up before the accused, ‘when an attraction of the white line towards him indicates his innocence, or an inclination of the black towards him pronounces his guilt.’ In Madagascar, a decoction of the nut of the Tangena—a deadly poison—is administered to the accused. If it act as an emetic, this is considered a proof of innocence; but if it fail to do so, the guilt of the accused is confirmed. Dr Livingstone describes a similar ordeal as practised in Africa, and tells us how ‘when a man suspects that any of his wives have bewitched him, he sends for the witch-doctor, and all the wives go forth into the field, and remain fasting till that person has made an infusion of the plant called “foho.” They all drink it, each one holding up her hand to heaven in attestation of her innocence. Those who vomit it are considered innocent; but those whom it purges are pronounced guilty, and put to death by burning. The innocent return to their homes, and slaughter a cock, as a thank-offering to their guardian spirits.’
It should be noted, too, that such modes of trial have been introduced with much effect into medieval poetry and romance. Thus, says Mr Gibson, ‘there was the mantle mentioned in a ballad of which Queen Guenever is the principal heroine, and which is supposed to have suggested to Spenser his conceit of Florimel’s girdle.’
Lastly, as far as our own country is concerned, trial by ordeal existed from a very early period. When the Anglo-Saxons were unable to decide as to the guilt of an accused person, they invariably resorted to this test, the law requiring that the accuser should swear that he believed the accused to be guilty, and that his oath should be supported by a number of friends who swore to their belief in his statement and to his general truthfulness. Trials of this kind, however, were often fraudulently conducted. Thus, when William Rufus caused forty Englishmen of good quality and fortune to be tried by the ordeal of hot iron, they all escaped unhurt, and were acquitted. But upon this the king declared that he would try them by his own court. According to the legendary account, it was by this mode of ordeal that Queen Emma, the mother of Edward the Confessor, was tried in order to clear her character from the imputation of an intrigue with Alwyn, Bishop of Winchester. Then there was the ordeal known as the ‘corsned,’ or morsel of execration, already alluded to, which consisted of a piece of bread, weighing about an ounce, being given to the accused person, that, if he were guilty, it might cause convulsions and paleness and find no passage; but turn to health and nourishment if he were innocent. The sudden and fatal appeal to this trial by Godwin, Earl of Kent, in the year 1053, when accused of the murder of Ælfred, the brother of Edward the Confessor, ranks amongst the most curious traditions of English history. Hallam relates how ‘a citizen of London, suspected of murder, having failed in the ordeal of cold water, was hanged by order of Henry II., though he had offered five hundred marks to save his life. It appears as if the ordeal were permitted to persons already convicted by the verdict of a jury.’
Ordeals were abolished in England about the commencement of Henry III.’s reign. An edict dated January 27, 1219, directs the judges then starting on their circuits to employ other modes of proof, ‘seeing that the judgment of fire and water is forbidden by the Church of Rome.’ Matthew Paris, enumerating the notable occurrences of the first half of the thirteenth century, alludes to the disuse of the ordeal. But it was no easy matter to root out such a deep-rooted superstition, instances of which were of constant occurrence. Thus, the belief that the wounds of a murdered person would bleed afresh at the approach, or touch, of the murderer long retained its hold on the popular mind; and in a note to the Fair Maid of Perth, we are told how this bleeding of a corpse was urged as an evidence of guilt in the High Court of Justiciary at Edinburgh as late as the year 1668. An interesting survival of this notion still exists in the north of England, where we are told that ‘touching of the corpse by those who come to look at it is still expected by the poor who visit their house while a dead body is lying in it, in token that they wished no ill to the departed, and were in peace and amity with him.’
Another of the few ordeals that still linger in popular memory may be seen occasionally in some country village, where persons suspected of theft are made to hold a Bible hanging to a key, which is supposed to turn in the hands of the thief—a survival of the old classic and medieval ordeal described in Hudibras as ‘th’ oracle of sieve and shears, that turns as certain as the spheres.’ But instances of this kind are mostly confined to the uncultured part of the community, for, happily, ordeals have long since had their day, and are now discarded from the laws of the more civilised nations.
A NORMAN STRONGHOLD.
The lover of antiquity may well lament when he sees our ancient fortresses nearly levelled to the ground; but the friend of rational freedom will rejoice, when he reflects on the design for which such works were erected, and on the many calamities to which they have given occasion. Amongst the existing but dismantled and ruined fortresses connecting the present with the sanguinary scene of strife and bloodshed of the past, is the famous castle of Pontefract, in Yorkshire, which sustained two memorable sieges by Cromwell’s soldiery. This celebrated edifice is supposed to be of Saxon origin; and the site of it is perfectly agreeable to their mode of fortification. While the Romans formed their camps on a plain or on the level ground, and defended them by a fosse and a vallum, the Saxons raised the area of their camps and castles, if the ground was level, or selected hills as places best adapted for defence and security. The elevated rock on which the castle is built stands wholly insulated, forming a site which, without much trouble or expense, might soon be converted into a stronghold. In support of the theory as to its Saxon origin, it may be mentioned that, since the demolition of the castle, it has been found that the great round tower stood upon a raised hill of stiff hard clay, of which material the Saxons usually made their foundations.
After the Conquest, Ilbert de Lacy received a grant of the place, and about 1076, all his vast possessions being confirmed to him, he soon after began to erect the castle. This noble structure cost immense expense and labour, and no one, unless in possession of a princely revenue, could have completed it. This formidable structure and magnificent palace was carried forward for the space of twelve years with unremitting attention. Ilbert de Lacy, when he laid the foundation stone of the castle, gave it the name of Pontfrete, because the situation, as he conceived, resembled the place so called in Normandy where he was born. Historians, however, have differed much respecting the origin of the name. Thomas de Castleford, who was bred a Benedictine monk, and who wrote the history of this place, accounts for it by the following miracle. William, Archbishop of York, and son of the sister of King Stephen, returning from Rome, was met by such crowds of people desirous to see him and receive his blessing, that a wooden bridge over the river Aire, near to this place, gave way and broke down, by which accident vast numbers fell into the river. The bishop, affected at the danger of so many persons, is said to have prayed with such fervour and success that no one perished. To perpetuate so striking and so signal a miracle, the pious Normans, says Thomas, gave the name of Pontefract or Broken-bridge to this place.
The tower of York minster, distant upwards of twenty miles, is distinctly visible from this elevated rock. The situation of the castle contributed greatly to its strength, and rendered it almost impregnable. It was not surrounded by any contiguous hills, and the only way it could be taken was by blockade. The staterooms of the castle were large, and accommodated with offices suitable for the residence of a prince. The style of the building shows it to be Norman; though it has received various additions and improvements of a later date.