“And in that same yere (1445) there was an armyrer and hys owne man fought whythe yn the lystys in Smethefylde the last day of Januer, ande there the mayster was slayne and dyspoylyde owte of hys harnys, and lay stylle in the fylde alle that day and that nyght next folowynge. And thenne aftyrward by the kyngys commaundement, he was drawyn, hanggyde, and beheddyde, and hys hedde sette on London Brygge, and the body hynggyng a-bove erthe be-syde the towre....
Also that yere (1455) a thyffe, one Thomas Whytehorne, was take in the Neweforeste be-syde Beuley and put yn preson at Wynchester. And when the day of delyverans com he appelyd many trewe men, and by that mene he kepte hys lyffe in preson. And thoo men that he appelyd were take and put yn stronge preson and sufferde many grete paynys, and was that they sholde confesse and a-corde unto hys fals pelyng: and sum were hongyd that hadde noo frende shyppe and goode, and thoo that hadde goods gate hyr charters of pardon. And that fals and untrewe peler hadde of the kynge every day j d. ob. And thys he contynuyd al moste iij yere, and dystryde many men that were sum tym in hys company. And at the laste he appelyd on that outerly sayde that he was fals in hys appelynge, and sayde that he wolde preve hyt with hys hondys, and spende hys lyfe and blode a-pone hys fals body. And thys mater was fulle dyscretely take and hyrde or bothe pelerrys parte, and of the defendente ys parte also. And a notabylle man, and the moste petefullyste juge of al thys londe in syttyng a-pon lyffe and dethe, toke thys sympylle man that offeryd to fyght with the peler, ande fulle curtesly informyd hym of alle the condyscyons of the fyghtyng and duelle of repreffe that shulde be by-twyne a peler of the kyngys, fals or trewe, in that one party, and by-twyne the defendent, trewe or false, in that othyr party. For in cas that the peler prevaylyd in that fyght he shulde he put in preson ayen, but he shulde fare more better than he dyd be fore tyme of fyghtynge, and be i-lowe of the kyng ij d. every day as longe as hit plesyd the kyng that he shulde lyf. For in prosses the kynge may by the lawe put hym to dethe, as for a man sleer, bycause that hys pelyng, fals or trewe, hathe causyd many mannys dethys, for a very trewe man schulde with yn xxiiij howrys make opyn to be knowe alle suche fals hyd thyngys of felony or treson, yf he be nott consentynge unto the same felowschyppe, undyr payne of dethe; and thys peler ys in the same cas, wherefore he moste nedys dy by very reson. Thys ys for the pelers party.
The defendaunte ys party ys, as that nobylle man, Mayster Myhelle Skyllyng, sayde ande informyde the defender, that he and the peler moste be clothyd alle in whyte schepys leter, bothe body, hedde, leggys, fete, face, handys, and alle. Ande that they schulde have in hyr hondys ij stavys of grene hasche, the barke beyng a-pon, of iij fote in lenghthe, and at the ende a bat of the same govyn owte as longe as the more gevythe any gretenys. And in that othye ende a horne of yryn, i-made lyke unto a rammys horne, as scharpe at the smalle ende as hit myght be made. And there whype they schulde make hyr foule batayle a-pone the moste sory and wrecchyd grene that myght be founde a-bowte the towne, havyng nothyr mete ne drykne whythe, bot both moste be fastynge. And yf hyr frowarde wepyn ben i-broke they moste fyght with hyr hondys, fystys, naylys, tethe, fete, and leggys; hyt ys to schamfulle to reherse alle the condyscyons of thys foule conflycte. And yf the defendent sle that pelers, fals or trewe, the defendent shalle be hangyde by-cause of man sleynge, by soo moche that he hathe i-slayne the kyngys prover, for by hys meny the kynge hadde mony of suche as were appelyd, and that mony that rosse of hyr stuffe or goodys that they hadde was put to the kynge almys, and hys amener dystrybutyd hit unto the pore pepylle. But the kyng may by hys grace pardon the defendent yf he wylle, ys the defendent be welle namyd and of competent governaunce in the toune or citte there at hys abydyng ys; but thys fulle seldon sene by-cause of the vyle and unmanerly fyghtynge. And by reson they shulde not ben beryd in noo holy sepulture of Crystyn mannys beryng, but caste owte as a man that wylfully sleythe hym selfe. Nowe remembyr thys foule batayle, whethey ye wylle doo hyt or noo. And bothe partys consentyde to fyght, with alle the condyscyons that long there too. And the fendent desyryd that the juge wolde sende unto Mylbroke there that he dwellyde, to inquere of hys gydynge and of conversacyon. And alle the men in that toune sayde that he was the trewyste laborer in alle that contre, and the moste gentellyste there with, for he was a fyscher and tayler of crafte. And the peler desyryd the same, but he was not a-bydynge in no place passynge a monythe. And in every place there as inquesyscyon was made men sayde, ‘Hange uppe Thome Whythorne, for he ys to stronge to fyght with Jamys Fyscher the trewe man whythe an yryn rammys horne.’ And thys causyd the juge to have pytte a-pon the defendent,
The maner of fyughtynge of thes ij poore
wrecchys by-syde Wynchester.
The peler in hys a-rayment ande parelle whythe hys wepyn come owte of the Este syde, and the defendent owte of the Sowthe-Weste syde in hys aparayle, with hys wepyn, fulle sore wepynge, and a payre of bedys in hys hond; and he knelyd down a-pone the erthe towarde the Este and cryde God marcy and alle the worlde, and prayde every man of forgevenys, and every man there beyng present prayde for hym. And the fals peler callyde and sayd ‘thou fals trayter! why arte thou soo longe in fals bytter be-leve?’ And thenne the defendent rosse upe and hym and sayde, ‘My quarelle ys as faythefulle and alle soo trewe as my by-lyve, and in that quarelle I wylle fyght,’ and with the same worde smote at the peler that hys wepyn breke; and thenne the peler smote a stroke to the defendent, but the offycers were redy that he shulde smyte no more, and they toke a-way hys wepyn fro hym. And thenn they fought to gederys with hyr fystys long tyme and restyd hem, ande fought agayne, and thenn restyd agayne; and thenn they wente togedyr by the neckys. And then they bothe with hyr tethe, that the lethyr of clothyng and flesche was alle to rente in many placys of hyr bodys. And thenn the fals peler caste that meke innocent downe to the grownde and bote hym by the membrys, that the sely innocent dryde owt. And by happe more thenne strengythe that innocent recoveryd up on hys kneys and toke that fals peler by the nose with hys tethe and put hys thombe in hys yee, that the peler cryde owte and prayde hym of marcy, for he was fals unto God and unto hym. And thenn the juge commaundyd hem to cesse and hyr bothe hyr talys; and the peler sayde that he hadde accusyd hym wrongefully and xviij men, and be-sought God of marcy and of forgevenys. And thenn he was confessyd ande hanggyd, of whos soule God have marcy. Amen.
As for the defendent was pardonyd of hys lyfe, leme, and goodys, and went home; and he become an hermyts and with schorte tyme dyed.”
[CHAPTER VII]
SANCTUARY
It is strange that an institution which played a large part in the social scheme of the Middle Ages should have fallen so completely into decay as to be absolutely forgotten by the people, so that there is not even a legend or a tradition of it left. The memory of Sanctuary is as clean lost and forgotten as that of Frank Pledge. Yet, three hundred years ago, the constant thought of debtor or malefactor was, that, if the worst came to the worst, he could fly to St. Martin’s or to Westminster and so escape the clink of Ludgate, or the gaol of Newgate. Even the murderer always had it in mind when justice was in pursuit of him, that there was the refuge of Sanctuary, if only he might win there, where he could be received, and could abide in safety.
Like every other ecclesiastical foundation, the right of Sanctuary was originally a beneficent and wise institution, designed by the Church for the protection of the weak, and the prevention of revenge, wild justice, violence and oppression. If a man, in those days of swift wrath and ready hand, should kill another in the madness of a moment; if by accident he should wound or maim another; if by the breaking of any law he should incur the penalties of justice; if by any action he should incur the hostility of a stronger man; if by some of the many changes and chances of fortune he should lose his worldly goods and fall into debt or bankruptcy, and so become liable to imprisonment; if he had cause to dread the displeasure of king, baron, or bishop, in all these cases the right of Sanctuary was open to him. Once on the frith-stool, once clinging to the horns of the altar, he was as safe as an Israelite within the walls of a City of Refuge: the mighty hand of the Church was over him; his enemies could not touch him on pain of excommunication.
In theory every church was a sanctuary; but it was easy to blockade a church so that the refugee could be starved into submission. If a felon took refuge in a church, it was the duty of the neighbours to watch him, until he had either surrendered, or, in presence of the proper officer, had abjured the realm. If he was allowed to escape, the parish or the Ward was fined a hundred shillings, to be paid to the King. The only real safety for a fugitive from justice or revenge was in those abbeys and places which possessed special charters and immunities. Foremost among these were the Sanctuaries of Westminster and St. Martin’s-le-Grand. Outside London, the principal sanctuaries appear to have been Beverley, Hexham, Durham, and Beaulieu. But every abbey, like every church, possessed its sanctuary as a part of its privileges. That of Westminster was, if not founded, defined and regulated by Edward the Confessor; that of St. Martin’s, the existence of which was always a scandal and an offence to the City of London, was regulated by half a dozen charters of as many kings. Its refugees were principally bankrupts, debtors, and common thieves; these as offenders against property were especially hated by a trading community.
The privilege of sanctuary was beautiful in theory. “Come to me,” said the Church, “I will keep thee in safety from the hand of violence and the arm of the law; I will give thee lodging and food; my doors shall be always open to thee, day and night; I will lead thee to repentance. Come, and in safety sit down and meditate on the sins which brought thee hither.”
SANCTUARY KNOCKER,
DURHAM CATHEDRAL