Part 10

If you look at the old engraving of the Minster given on page 137 you will notice that this one style of building was not followed throughout the church. Just past the transepts the style changes into the _Decorated_ style. The reason is that there was a long interval of nearly one hundred years during which the canons had not enough money to continue their building operations, so that the work came to a standstill. Meanwhile the Norman nave was still standing; and when at last money again became plentiful, a larger nave in the new and fashionable style was built around the old one. A curious result of this mode of building is seen to-day in that the pillars of the nave are not exactly opposite to one another, because the builders were not able to measure directly across from one to the other.

Another glance at the old engraving will show that a further change in men’s ideas of building took place before the church was finished. The ravages of the ‘Black Death’ stopped progress for a time; and when the great twin towers of the west end were built, the _Perpendicular_ style of building had become fashionable. Then, in order that the east window should be in fashion with the west window, it was rebuilt ‘in the latest style.’ Thus we have in the church three successive styles of building, quite different from one another, and yet so blended that they make one harmonious whole.

After the confiscation of the church property in 1549, the Minster fell, naturally, into sad disrepair. Its beautiful octagonal chapter house was sold and pulled down. One hundred and ten years ago the Minster was reported to be almost a ruin. So bad was its condition that the beautiful gable of the north transept had bulged outwards no less than four feet, and was saved from destruction only by the skill of a carpenter named Thornton, who erected a huge screen of timber, and forced the wall back to its upright position.

In 1886 a great architect, Sir Gilbert Scott, was employed to make necessary restorations. First of all he took down the dome-like roof, with gilded ball above it, seen in the old engraving of the Minster. True, the Minster still lacks the central tower which, like the cathedrals of York, Durham, and Lincoln, it was originally planned to have; but better none at all than the unsuitable dome which our ancestors built a century ago. The beautiful choir screen was designed also by Sir Gilbert Scott, and was carved by a Beverley craftsman, Mr. James Elwell.

Since 1886 the main work of restoration has been the filling in of the numerous niches around the walls, each of which before the Reformation had its statue, great or small. Only one of these ancient statues remains, a statue of one of the Percy family, on a buttress of the north face of the north tower. There are now in position on the walls of the Minster 182 statues—108 outside and 74 inside—most of which have been provided through the generosity of Canon Nolloth.

There is much of interest to see around the Minster. The best view of the great towers is obtained from the entrance to Minster Moorgate; that of the interior of the nave from the upper floor at the west end, which is reached by a staircase in the north tower.

Climb to the top of the tower and you will, if the day is fine, be rewarded with a wide-reaching view over Beverley Westwood and the Plain of Holderness. Go into the chancel and examine the Percy Tomb. You are looking at the most magnificent stonework of the fourteenth century in the whole of Europe. Lift up the seats in the canons’ stalls and you will see the best collection of carved _miserere_ seats in England. Sit in the ancient _Frith-Stool_ and you can imagine yourself to be either an innocent victim of oppression or a criminal of the deepest dye—whichever you prefer. Stand before the great east window, and admire the beauty of the old stained glass of which it is composed. Or stand before the great west window and you will see portrayed in its coloured glass Augustine and Aethelberht of Kent and St. John of Beverley, the marriage of Edwin and Ethelburga, the baptism of Edwin by Paulinus, and Coifi, the heathen high priest, with his broken idols—an epitome of the early church history of our country.

XVI. SANCTUARIES.

The Church in the Middle Ages had a tremendous hold over people’s minds, and this was largely due to the power which it wielded over their bodies. Foremost amongst the rights then possessed by it was the right of ‘Sanctuary,’ by which the poor and injured could gain safety from the attacks of their oppressors, and one who had unwittingly committed a crime might save himself from a criminal’s death. This right belonged, in greater or less degree, to all the churches scattered up and down the country.

Let us imagine a by-no-means uncommon event in the years just after the Black Death. A husbandman is working for his master as a free labourer and small cottager. His father before him had also been a free labourer, but his grandfather had in his youth been a serf of the lord of a neighbouring manor. This grandfather of his, because the serfs had increased beyond their lord’s requirements, had been allowed with others to go free; and taking advantage of his freedom he had sought and obtained work as a free labourer under a new master. But now, after the Black Death, labourers are scarce; and the present lord of the manor is causing to be looked up all the descendants of those serfs whom his ancestor had set free. Thus the lord’s bailiff has been making enquiries about our freeman, and has sent two servants to arrest him and take him back to the serfdom that his grandfather had once suffered.

But our freeman is a man of spirit, and will not be taken without resistance. Knives are drawn, and he defends himself. In the scuffle one of his assailants stumbles and falls, and unluckily for himself and for our freeman, he happens to fall upon his own weapon, which pierces his body and so causes his death. His comrade, chicken-hearted, fears to continue the struggle alone, and makes off to the village for help.

What is our freeman to do? If he remains where he is and allows himself to be taken, not only will he be claimed as a serf by the lord of the neighbouring manor, but he will also be charged with causing the death of the lord’s servant.

Little chance is there of his proving himself innocent of his assailant’s death; for the dead man’s companion will not fail to swear that the death-blow was struck by him. In any case he will be thrown into the town jail for an indefinite length of time, perhaps not to come out alive, or to come out maimed for life. Were not three prisoners, two men and a woman, thrown into the jail last year on suspicion of having been concerned in a murder, and were they not kept there till one of the men died, the other lost a foot, and the woman lost both feet, from disease produced by the foul condition of the cell into which they were cast?

So thinks our freeman to himself. It is little comfort to him to remember that when the two prisoners who remained alive were eventually tried, they were found ‘not guilty’ of the charge laid against them, and were told by the justices that they could depart.

* * * * *

What can our freeman do? In a short while the lord of the manor’s other servant will come up with help against him, and he must then be overpowered. He can only flee. But whither? In the distance he can just distinguish the outline of the great church of St. John of Beverley. If he can only reach that church and knock on the small door that holds the sanctuary knocker he will be safe.

So off he sets on a six-mile run, with life before him and death behind. He has a good start over his pursuers, whom he can just make out half-a-mile or so away, but will he be able to hold out till he reaches the goal set before him? Nearer and nearer becomes the church, and although his pursuers are gaining on him, yet his heart is cheered by the sight of the boundary cross which tells him he has little more than a mile now to run, and which in itself gives him a certain amount of protection. For should he now be taken, he is under the protection of St. John, and his pursuers will lay hands on him at the risk of a fine of eight pounds payable to the Church.

Spurred on by fresh hope he reaches his goal, and has just sufficient strength to clang the knocker before he falls heavily against the heavy door. ‘Oh that the door may be opened quickly!’ His prayer is answered; for a watching priest has seen the pursuit. He draws back the bolt, drags in the senseless form, and clangs to the door again just as the pursuers reach it.

For a space of thirty days our freeman will now be safe, and during these thirty days he will be fed and lodged by the canons of the Minster. But first he will be required, with his hand placed on the great written copy of the Bible possessed by the Minster, to take an oath read out to him by the Coroner in the following words:—

‘Sir, take hede on your oth—

Ye shalbe trew and feythfull to my Lord Archbisshop of York, Lord off this towne....

Also ye shall bere gude hert to the Baillie and xij governars of this town....

Also ye shall bere no poynted wepen, dagger, knyfe, ne none other wapen, ayenst the Kynges pece.

Also ye shalbe redy at all your power, if ther be any debate or stryf, or oder sothan case of fyre within the towne, to help to surcess it.

Also ye shalbe redy at the obite[35] of Kyng Adelstan ... at the warnyng of the belman of the towne, and doe your dewte in ryngyng....’

Footnote 35:

A service held in memory of the death of a benefactor.

Then having taken the oath he will be required to ‘kysse the book.’

But in the eyes of the law our freeman is a felon—a man over whose head there hangs a charge of murder, and who will have little chance of proving his innocence of this charge. He must avail himself of the law established of old and confirmed by King Edward II.—

Let the felon be brought to the church door, and there be assigned unto him a port, near or far off, and a time appointed to him to go out of the realm, so that in going towards that port he carry a cross in his hand, and that he go not out of the King’s highway, neither on the right hand nor on the left, but that he keep it always until he shall be gone out of the land; and that he shall not return without special grace of our lord the King.

Such were the rights of sanctuary possessed by the Minster at Beverley. For the space of a mile around the church in every direction the peace of St. John extended, and within this circle—the boundaries of which were marked by the erection of a ‘sanctuary cross’ on each of the roads entering Beverley—partial safety was assured to all fugitives. But the nearer a fugitive got to the high altar of the Minster the safer he became. Seated in the _Frith-Stool_ that stood by the side of the altar he was absolutely safe; for none—not even the King himself—dare violate its sacred peace.

The Beverley frith-stool now stands in the chancel near the north-east transept. A plain, massive seat of stone it is, so massive and so simple in design that its age seems greater than that of the Minster itself. Possibly it dates back to the days of the Saxon King Aethelstan. It was once engraved, we know, with a Latin inscription, the translation of which ran thus:

This stone seat is called FREEDSTOLL, that is, chair of peace, on reaching which a fugitive criminal enjoys complete safety.

A frith-stool very similar to the Beverley one exists at Hexham Abbey in Northumberland, and in the village church of Halsham in our East Riding there is what is thought to be another. Here, however, the ‘chair of peace’ is built into the wall of the chancel between the sedilia and the priests’ door. No other examples are known in Yorkshire.

Of sanctuary knockers still existing the finest is the Norman one on the north door of Durham Cathedral, but nearer home there is a good example on a door of All Saints’ Church at York. That which once existed, and which was so freely used, on a door of Beverley Minster has long ago disappeared, nor is there any known example in the East Riding.

As an instance of the protection afforded to the people by the existence of this right of sanctuary, and of the power of the Church over the minds of even such Kings as William the Conqueror, may be given the story told by Alured,[36] a priest of the Minster of St. John in the reign of William’s son, Henry I.:—

At the time when William was engaged on his ‘Wasting of the North’ he had once pitched his camp seven miles from Beverley, and had caused all the people of the district to flee to the church for protection. Certain soldiers coming up intent on plunder made their way to the church, and their leader, Toustain by name, did not hesitate to spur his horse within its open door. But the vengeance of St. John came down upon him for his impious deed, his horse stumbled on the threshold, and Toustain fell with broken neck. Moreover, when his men picked him up, his head was found to be twisted towards his back, and his feet and hands were distorted like those of a mis-shapen monster. Fear came upon all the Norman soldiers, and when William was informed of the miracle that had happened, fear came also upon him; so that he confirmed all the privileges of the church, gave it a grant of lands at Sigglesthorne, and decreed that the lands of the blessed Saint John should be everywhere spared from the ‘Wasting.’

Footnote 36:

An old spelling of ‘Alfred.’

In affording protection to the innocent, the injured, and the oppressed, the Church was carrying on a good work. But we must remember that the same protection was afforded to those actually guilty of all possible crimes. The registers kept at Beverley show that during a space of sixty years in the reigns of King Edward IV., Richard III., Henry VII. and Henry VIII., those who claimed the right of sanctuary included:—

186 who were charged with murder, 54 ” ” ” ” felony, 1 ” was ” ” horse-stealing, 1 ” ” ” ” treason, 1 who was charged with receiving stolen goods, 7 ” were ” ” coining, 208 ” ” ” ” debt, 35 ” ” ” ” other crimes. —-- 493 who were charged with various offences.

In the Beverley registers there are 469 entries, of which all but a few are written in Latin. One of the English entries will give an idea of the kind of record kept:—

John Spret, Gentilman.

Memorandum, that John Spret, of Barton upon Umber, in the Counte of Lyncoln, gentilman, com to Beverlay, the ferst day of October, the vij yer of the reen of Keing Herry the vij, and asked the lybertes of Saint John of Beverlay, for the dethe of John Welton, husbondman, of the same town, and knawleg[37] hymselff to be at the kyllyng of the saym John with a dagarth,[38] the xv day of August.

Footnote 37:

Acknowledged.

Footnote 38:

Dagger.

It is evident from these 469 entries that the Beverley Sanctuary must have been of special repute. For the criminals who asked the liberties of Saint John of Beverley came from parts of Britain as wide apart as Lowestoft, Honiton, Haverfordwest, Anglesey, and Durham. No fewer than thirty came from London, Beverley itself provided five, _Preston in Holdernes_ three, and _Kyngestone super Hull_ ten; while others came from _Heydon_, _Hezell_, _Hoton Cransewik_, _Hogett super le Wolde_, _Otteryngham_, _Wetherwyk_, and fifty other towns and villages in the East Riding.

All ranks and conditions of life are represented among these entries, from the _armiger_ or knight, and _generosus_ or person of noble birth, down to the common _laborer_. The _goldsmyth_, the _surgyon_, the _grosiar_—an alderman of London—the _yoman_, the _chapman_, the _shepard_, and the _husbondman_ are there. So, sad to relate, is the _capellanus_, or chaplain; and among the tradesmen there are the _berbrower_, _bocher_, _bowyer_, _brykemaker_, _capper_, _coke_, _flecher_,[39] _fysshemonger_, _payntour_, _pewterer_, _plommer_, _pursor_, _pynner_, _saddiler_, _salter_, _syngyngman_, and _tawlowchaunler_.

Footnote 39:

A _flecher_, or _fletcher_, was an arrow-maker.

* * * * *

Under such circumstances as these, it is not wonderful that complaints of the misuse of sanctuary rights became frequent. In 1324 ten prisoners escaped from Newgate Jail, of whom five took refuge in one or other of the London churches, and thence escaped out of the country. In 1376 Parliament complained to the King that certain people got money or goods on loan, made pretended gifts of all their property to their friends, then went into sanctuary, and stayed there till their creditors were glad to accept some small portion of the debt in payment for the whole; after which they came out, received back their pretended gifts, and lived merrily on their ill-gotten wealth. Cases even occurred in which thieves and murderers left their place of sanctuary at nightfall, committed fresh crimes during the night, and returned to the ‘chair of peace’ again before daybreak.

So great did the scandal of this misuse of the privileges afforded by sanctuaries eventually become, that in 1623 Parliament passed a law that:

No sanctuarie or priviledge of sanctuary shal be hereafter admitted or allowed in any case.

The law was again passed in 1697, but it was not until the reign of George I. that the last sanctuary in our country was demolished.

XVII. HOW TWO KINGS OF ENGLAND LANDED AT SPURN.

In the old Norse account of the life of Harold Hardrada it is stated that after the battle of Stamford Bridge Olaf, the King’s son, ‘led the fleet from England, setting sail from _Hrafnseyri_.’ This is the earliest mention that we have of the bank of sand and shingle which is known to-day as Spurn Point, and the name of the place—‘Hrafn’s gravel-bank’—is evidence of both its general appearance and its ownership in the year 1066.

For two centuries after this we have no mention of it, but in the meanwhile there had grown up two settlements to each of which the name Ravenser was attached. _Ald Ravenser_—that is, Old Ravenser—was ‘inland, distant both from the sea and the Humber’; while _Ravenserodd_, or as we should write it, Ravenser Point, lay ‘between the waters of the sea and those of the Humber,’ and was ‘distant from the main land a space of one mile and more.’ Connecting the two was a sandy road ‘covered with round and yellow stones, thrown up in a little time by the height of the floods, having a breadth which an archer can scarcely shoot across, and wonderfully maintained by the tides of the sea on its east side, and the ebb and flow of the Humber on its west side.’

Of the birth of the former of these towns we know nothing, but the birth of the latter was described by one of the jurors in a lawsuit brought in the year 1290 by the men of Grimsby against the men of Ravenserodd. Several years before a ship had stranded on a sand bank, and the wreck had been taken possession of by an enterprising fellow who used it as a store for meat and drink which he sold to sailors and merchants. Then others came to dwell on the sand-bank, and in 1235 or thereabouts the Earl of Albemarl, Lord of Holderness, began there the building of a town.

* * * * *

The growth of this town must have been rapid; for in 1251 the King granted to the Earl of Albemarl the right to hold in Ravenserodd a weekly market and a fair lasting sixteen days. Then trouble began between the men of the town and the men of Grimsby, and the latter complained that

the men of the said town of Ravenserodd go out with their boats into the high sea, where there are ships carrying merchandise, and intending to come to Grimsby with their merchandise. The said men hinder those ships from coming to Grimsby, and lead them to Ravenser by force when they cannot amicably persuade them to go thither.

So we see that ‘peaceful picketing’ was not altogether unknown in these parts six hundred years ago.

At intervals during the reigns of Edward II. and Edward III. the men of Ravenser were called upon to provide a ship for the King’s wars against Scotland. In each case the ship was to be furnished with from thirty to a hundred of ‘the stoutest and strongest men of the town, with armour, victuals, and other necessaries.’ In 1332, also, an expedition of five hundred men-at-arms and two thousand archers set sail from Ravenser for Scotland, having on board Edward Baliol, Lord Beaumont, Lord de Wake, and others who wished to see Baliol crowned as King of Scotland. Their wishes were fulfilled, for the expedition was successful and Baliol was crowned at Scone.

From about this time the fortunes of Ravenser began to decline. Probably the superior privileges granted by King Edward to his _Kyngstown-svper-Hvll_ provided very largely the cause of the decline. The climax of its misfortunes came with a succession of extremely high tides about the year 1356—tides which ‘sometimes exceeding beyond measure the height of the town, and surrounding it like a wall on every side,’ caused its absolute destruction. In 1400 Ravenserodd was recorded to be ‘altogether consumed,’ while nothing remained of Ald Ravenser but a single manor-house.

* * * * *

Such was the condition of the once prosperous port when in the month of June, 1399, Henry, Duke of Lancaster, and grandson of King Edward the Third, landed on its site with sixty followers. As Henry of Bolingbroke, Earl of Hereford, he had in 1398 been banished by King Richard II. for a term of six years, in order that a duel between him and the Duke of Norfolk might be prevented. As Henry, Duke of Lancaster, he now returned to claim the estates of his father, John of Gaunt, which estates Richard had confiscated on their holder’s death.

When Henry of Lancaster landed at _Ravenserespourne_, he found its sole occupant to be a hermit, by name Matthew Danthorpe. This hermit was engaged in building a chapel on the desolate bank of shingle; and great must have been his surprise when a ship carrying a company of well-armed men bore down upon his hermitage instead of passing up the river, as ships were accustomed to do.

Still greater must his surprise have been when he found that the ship belonged to a royal Duke, and that its arrival was shortly followed by arrivals from inland of the great Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, and the Earl of Westmorland. His surprise was, probably, not unmixed with fear. For he was building his chapel without having obtained a license from the King, and rumours were soon flying about that Henry of Lancaster had come to claim something more than the estates which were his by right of descent.