This view of low life in London may be concluded with Stow’s account of Mr. Wotton, though in reality he adorned the next century:—
“Among the rest they found out one Wotton, a Gentleman born, and sometime a Merchant of good Credit, but falling by Time into Decay: this Man kept an Alehouse at Smarts-key near Billingsgate: and after, for some Misdemeanour, put down, he reared up a new Trade of Life. And in the same house he procured all the Cutpurses about the City to repair to his House. There was a School-house set up, to learn young Boys to cut Purses: two Devices were hung up, the one was a Pocket the other was a Purse. The Pocket had in it certain Counters, and was hung about with Hawks Bells, and over the top did hang a little Sacring Bell. The Purse had silver in it. And he that could take out a Counter without any Noise, was allowed to be a public Foyster. And he that could take a piece of silver out of the Purse without Noise of any of the Bells, was adjudged a judicial Nypper, according to their Terms of Art. A Foyster was a Pickpocket, a Nypper was a Pickpurse or Cutpurse. In this Wotton’s House were written in a Table divers Poesies, and among the rest this was one.
Si spie, Sporte: si non spie, tunc Steal.
Another this—
Si spie, si non spie, Foyste, Nyppe, Lyfte
shave, and spare not.
Note, that Foyst is to cut a pocket: Nyppe is to cut a purse: Lyfte is to rob a shop, or a Gentleman’s Chamber: Shave is to filch a Cloak, a Sword, a Silver Spoon, or such-like, that is negligently looked into: to which add one phrase more in those times used among this sort, Mylken Ken, which is, to commit a robbery or Burglary in the Night in a Dwelling house.”
The Coroner’s Rolls from 1272-1278 have been preserved, and are published by Riley in his Memorials. They form a curious collection of cases. Let us go through these inquests of the thirteenth century. The exact dates do not concern us.
John Fuatard and John le Clerk were playing a game called “tiles”—probably rounded like quoits—on a certain Sunday morning in the churchyard of St. Mary Overies, the latter being Clerk in the Church of St. Mary Magdalene. By accident, John le Clerk, in throwing his tile, struck the other so violent a blow on the head that it killed him on the spot. Having done this, John le Clerk ran away to the Church, and was no more seen, at all events, till after the inquest. Goods and chattels the Clerk had none. The neighbours of the deceased were attached, i.e. bound over to give evidence if called upon.
Henry de Flegge, taking his horse to water in the Dock of Castle Baynard Ward, was carried out into the river by the animal, and fell off his back and so was drowned. The nearest people to the place where the body was found were attached.
In the Tower Ward—“Ward of William de Hadestock”—and in the Parish of Barking Church, one, Gervase de Noreys, was found lying dead. It was ascertained that the deceased was quarrelling with one William Lyndeseye, and that the said William, drawing a knife, gave Gervase two wounds, one in the left breast, and one in the back, of which wounds he immediately died. William thereupon fled to the Church, where he remained. The goods of William were seized, but they amounted to nothing more than a tabard (short coat), one hatchet, a bow with three arrows, and one shirt, the whole valued at 16 pence.
On the Wednesday following, William acknowledged the crime before the Chamberlain and Sheriffs, and “abjured the realm.” They gave him three days to get to Dover, where he was to take boat across the Channel.
Henry Green, a water carrier, went down to the river to fill his tankard. The water carrier, sometimes called a cobb, carried a vessel—perhaps two vessels at a time—called tankards.
Henry Green, then, went down to the riverside with his tankard; he stepped into a boat; he filled the tankard and would have gone back to the quay, but the weight of the tankard caused the boat to move backwards, and Henry Green fell in and was drowned.
The Coroner learned the facts, examined the body, which showed no sign of violence, and appraised the boat and the tankard at 5s. 6d. The valuing of things at an inquest was for deodand, or the King’s perquisite. It would then appear that the owner of the boat lost it. Yet he was not to blame. The theory of the deodand was that the value of the instrument, or cause of the death, was to be given to the King, by him to be offered to God, if he so chose.