The Butchers Funeral: A Medieval Murder (11 page)

The warmth of the afternoon put them both in the mood to relax, especially now the bulk of the work was done.  They spent the time around the animal pen, discussing the goings on of the city.  Law was new to the city and had much to learn.  He was finally understanding the weekly market that drew in many people from the countryside.  He had even visited it when he was younger, but had not before comprehended the scale of the event.  There were also the markets held around feast days when large numbers of people made their way into the city to celebrate.  However, even on non-market days, the marketplace was never quiet as many local traders were based there, either in shops or stalls.

Yet it was still amusing and interesting to see such numbers of people, it was even a bit daunting having grown up in a small village where you knew everyone and saw them almost every day.  Law still found it amazing that there were so many people living and working so closely together in the city.  Not only was there the bustling market, but a cathedral was also under construction, resulting in a constant flow of goods and people into the city.  The size of the city overwhelmed him at times, but it was exciting and there were always new things to find out. Judd had introduced him to many of the delights on offer in the city, particularly the taverns, which Law knew he spent far too much time in.  It was also fascinating to a country person how most people had to purchase their food, with many of the city dwellers not having enough land to feed themselves.  This led to all sorts of foods being available from shops and market stalls, many of them things he rarely saw in his own village.  Law particularly liked the pies he got from the butcher and the variety of fresh breads.  He was less keen on the fish, most of which came from the sea rather than the ones back home that came from the river.  In his village, you got functional food, made as close to the same way as possible, even when there was a lack of ingredients.  If you did not like what was offer, you went hungry, but in the city, you just chose something else.  Of course, not growing your own food meant you had to work for a wage with which to purchase the things you needed, but then that was the point of the city, getting away from the land and doing something other than working the land, something that made you money as a freeman.

Their gossip had been about the latest exploits of Herry Webb, who was supposedly having a tryst with a washer woman at the river while stringing along a girl who worked for his father.  There were other women as well as Herry was popular with the women for his charming smooth talk, youthful looks and fashionable clothes.  Webb had just finished his apprenticeship, and being a weaver like his father, he was well off, not only able to afford the latest fashions, but in many cases he could make them as well.  It was only a matter of time before he would set out on his own as he was driven and clearly wanted to do things differently to his father.  The two men had been known to clash on where to sell their wares, with the father preferring to sell to the monastery while the son argued that they should sell in London for the better prices available there.  Herry was determined to prove his father wrong, and as soon as he had the money, he would set up his own business.  Of course, women loved this ambition, along with the fashionable bright colours and long shoes Herry wore.  He had his pick of the women, but had not yet settled on one, preferring to sample the many.

  They were midway though sharing some freshly baked rolls, ones that Law had chosen as his favourites, when they were interrupted.   There was a commotion just across from them by the blacksmith and they noticed a fat old merchant was shouting and a child had started running.

'What's Mark gone and done now?' Judd said, recognising the runner.

Law did not know the boy, he looked quite a few years younger than himself.  Besides, having only recently moved to the city, Law did not know everyone as well as Judd, who had been here many more years.

'Stop thief!' The merchant shouted.

'Oh damn them to hell.' Judd groaned as he climbed out of the pen, 'Hue and cry.  Law, we need to catch Mark now or we'll be for it.'

Law had heard of the hue and cry, but had never seen one happen.  Mostly people ignored crimes, but when someone cried out, and in such a public place, there was no way to ignore what was going on.  Law knew that this approach was one of the few ways to keep crime under control, but he did not like the idea that everyone could be punished if the community failed to stop the criminal.  As the crime appeared to be theft, the punishments for the criminal, or those failing to stop him, could be quite severe.  Law did not take too long to think about it, yet Judd already had a good head-start on him and others were also joining the chase.  Not only did they need to catch the criminal, but Law was not going to let Judd earn bragging rights by beating him.  Law leapt out of the pen, if he did not hurry he would lose sight of the boy and would end up chasing Judd, or worse, the crowd. 

The boy was heading to the nearby corner of the marketplace, no doubt hoping to lose himself quickly in the alleys and narrow passageways around the edge.  If he had a chance to drop the stolen items, the thief might get away with it as there would be no evidence to prove his guilt.  Already Law was gaining on his slightly older friend and pushing past the bustle of the leading edges of the pursuing crowd.  Most of the bystanders were quick enough to get out of the way, but the thief still ran into an old woman at the butcher's shop.  The thief fell to the ground, but was quickly recovered, losing little of his lead.  Law saw the old woman, the thief had run into, hit the butcher's counter as she went down.  The butcher was nowhere in sight, but Law was briefly bemused when he saw Donald Alvin rushing to the corner of the shop with a small phial in hand.  He put it out of his mind, clearly the surgeon was going to help the old woman.

As they left the market, only Judd and Law were able to see where the thief was going, the rest of the crowd was chasing Law and he had almost caught up with his friend.  They entered a maze of alleys, running through waste accumulating a foot deep in places.  Even thought they were closing on the boy, Law still lost sight of him a couple of times and had to trust the Judd could either see him, or knew where they were going.  The crowd was left far behind, although he could hear their shouting as they blindly continued their pursuit.

Law was beginning to tire, not used to this pace, however, the boy was also clearly faltering.  Law finally caught up with Judd, who was red in the face from the pace and splattered up one side with something unmentionable that he had slipped in.  As they turned another corner they caught up with the boy, Judd threw his arms out and pushed the boy off balance so that he fell into the middle of the narrow alley.  Law seized the opportunity and dived onto the boy, who squealed as he was hit by the weight of his assailant.  There was a brief struggle, but the thief was no match for Law, and soon they were both breathing heavily on the floor.

'Mark you stupid fool!'  Judd forced out as he caught his breath, 'What have you gone and done?  You'll hang!'

The boy started to sob, 'Let me go, no-one knows you've caught me.'

Judd looked as if he was considering it when several red-faced men came puffing around the corner.

'You've got him!' One of the men exclaimed.

'What did he take?  Search him.'  A stall-keeper demanded excitedly.

'Go and get the constable.'  Another of the growing crowd suggested as someone from the back ran off to fetch the official.

'Search the boy!'  A short bearded man at the front demanded.

Judd started to pat down the boy as Law climbed off him.  The boy struggled, but Judd stilled him with a quick stinging slap to the cheek.  In no time he found something.

'Nice new comb.'  Judd said as he retrieved the stolen comb, waving it in the air and passing it to Law.

'Bet that was stolen.' Said a voice from the crowd.

'Was my dead mum's,' Protested the boy, 'Kept it to help me remember her.'

'Ah lad, that's why it looks so new ain't it.' It was the man at the front again.

'It was her's.'

'Nothing else though.'  Judd interrupted the pleas of innocence that continued to come from the boy.  He was surprised that the victim had made such a fuss about having a comb stolen.  It was a nice comb, but not the kind he expected a wealthy merchant to have, 'What else did you take boy?  No way that rich guy would make sure a fuss about a simple comb.'

'Nothing Judd, honest nothing.'

'Look around!'  Shouted one of the crowd, 'He must have dropped whatever it was when he was running.'

'What we looking for?'

'Dunno stupid.  Something that merchant would have made all this fuss about.'

The crowd of pursuers started looking around the alleyway with several of them retrace the chase.  Nevertheless, enough stayed close enough to Mark that he could not attempt to get away.

As the search continued, Eric Constable arrived on the scene.  He inspected Mark and the comb before turning to Judd and Law.

'Right everybody.  You're looking for a purse.  The merchant has told me how much was in it, so if you help yourself to any, I'll know you did it.'  Several people groaned at not being allowed to liberate a few coins that a rich merchant could surely spare as a reward.

'Good work you two lads.'  Constable had turned back to Judd and Law, 'As good as caught 'im in the act.  Now if we can just find the purse, we'll have enough evidence to take the boy to court.'

'You mean the comb's not enough?'  Law asked.

'It's enough to get 'im time in stocks or something'

'Letting him off lightly.'  Someone mumbled.

'You mind your business Jones,' Constable responded to the interruption, 'If he had been caught with the purse in his possession, we would have been executing him before the week was out.  As he didn't have it on him, we'll have to wait until the visit of the next court.'

'Don't we have to find the purse then?'  Law asked.  Having recently moved to the city, he was not quite clear on how things worked.

'He'll get a lesser punishment for stealing the comb.'

'It was my mum's!'  Mark shouted again.

'Easy way to check that out is to have a word around the market and find out who's missing a comb from their stall.'  The constable challenged.  The thief glared at him.

'So if we find the purse, he'll get a more severe punishment?'  Law asked.

'That's right.  Doesn't take the theft of much coin to lead to the death penalty.'  Constable ignored the pleas of innocence from the boy.

'And if we return the purse to the merchant, there will be no demands that the community pays a penalty.'  Judd added.

'I've found it.'  One of the city folk ran around the corner waving the purse, which he handed to Constable.

'Good timing, we were about to take the boy to the gaol.'  Constable said, 'Now Thomas, you better not have helped yourself to any of the coin.  I'll know, you know.'

'Full of coins, but I've not taken any, weighs a lot.'  Thomas replied, passing the purse to the constable, 'Found it a couple of alleys back, on the street by the chandler's house.  Hidden behind a bush, must have thrown it in there when he turned into that street.'

'That's good work, but I'll be counting these later Thomas.'  Constable passed the purse to Judd, who bounced it up and down gauging the weight.

'It's a small fortune here.  Mark, you're going to hang for this.'  Judd said to the boy.

'Pass it over here.'  Law wanted to feel how heavy the purse was.

'It wasn't me.  You can't prove it.'  Mark complained.

'Wrong boy.  The merchant will give witness, so will Thomas, while Judd and Law here will have their chase to tell of too.'  Constable said.

'But I didn't take the purse.'  Mark again complained weakly.  He knew he did not have a chance.

'The merchant will say you did.  It's been found, and that's all the court will need.'  Constable was happy, the problem had been resolved.  He would return the purse to the merchant in full expectation of receiving a reward which he would keep for himself.  The boy would be held in a cell, in the rundown excuse for a gaol, that the city had.  They would just have to await the arrival of the court and then there would be an execution.  All in all, a good day's work.

Law knew that the gaol was overcrowded with both the thief and the surgeon being held.  The place was usually empty.  He was aware that the conditions would be poor, with little consideration towards comfort and well-being.  There would be straw on the floor, no bed or chairs, nor would the cell be designed for anything but a temporary stay.  The food was a basic gruel, with prisoners dependent on friends to bring anything extra that was needed.  It was much the same with items of comfort as well.  Of course Mark had been there several weeks longer than the surgeon, but being used to a harsh life on the streets, he was able to cope with the poor quality rations, even though he had no friends who could bring him anything more.  When the surgeon arrived, the elder man had immediately taken pity on Mark and was prepared to share from his own resources.  Donald Alvin's reputation was such that a great many people in the city felt they owed him something, and paid the debt with food and other goods that would help him pass the time.

It had been several weeks since the thief was caught and a few days since the surgeon was detained.  Justice had not yet been done and the prisoners were awaiting the arrival of the sheriff so that the trials could be conducted.  As the thief had not been caught outright with the purse, he could not be executed without a trial; while the surgeon claimed he was innocent of murder and no-one was present when the murder took place.  Law felt guilty for his part in their detention, as well as a little bit about their conditions they were being held in.  He had been the one who had caught the thief; he had been the one who put the surgeon in the way of harm.  He understood that the thief was a homeless young boy who had survived by turning to crime.  There was no one to look after the boy, who had clearly had to survive on his own wits for quite some time.  Law knew that this would mean that the boy had to steal food to survive and if he were put in the same position he was certain that he would have done the same. That they had caught Mark with a comb, and it looked like the purse of money had been stolen by him as well, well, there was clearly a bit more to survival than just stealing food.  Law could understand several reasons why someone would steal.  What would the boy do on days when there was no market? What would the boy do if he became too ill to steal food? Clearly he needed to steal other things to make sure that he had enough to survive from week to week. Law knew that if he had been in the same position he would have stolen without much thought about the right and wrong of it.  Likewise, if the opportunity to snatch a purse had arisen he would have taken it, anything to improve his chances of survival.

Law's guilt over the surgeon was far worse than his guilt over the thief.  He had spent the last few days, since Donald Alvin's capture, overwhelmed by his sense of responsibility for the surgeon's predicament.  It was his fault that the surgeon was accused.  He had been the one that had beaten Perry the Carniter, him and Judd.  They had only meant to hock him, beat him up and extract some money, but it had all gone wrong with Perry falling on his own knife, mortally injuring himself.  All of this could have been avoided if they had not attacked Perry, but they had burned for revenge for his insult directed at Dye Butcher.   The fatal injury, accident or not, was not the primary guilt in Law's mind, rather the setting up of the surgeon was what burned his conscience.  That had been completely wrong and something that Judd had done on his own initiative, but Law had failed to contradict him.  The morning after the hocking, Judd had rounded up a small group from the tavern, claiming that they had seen the carniter being attacked on the road.  No doubt Judd thought that this would get them off the hook, fully expecting to find the corpse of the carniter, apparently dead after a robbery.  The group had set out in search of the carniter and his attackers.  Judd had led them to the spot only to find Donald Alvin, the surgeon, tending to the carniter who had clearly survived the night.

Law had not been among the group that found the carniter and surgeon, but Judd had later told him of his own panic, on the spot accusing the surgeon of torture and magic.  The group had quickly fallen for this and the timely death of the carniter had further convinced them.  The cauterised knife wound had been clear evidence of torture for those gathered and Judd managed to further convince them of the prolonged torture of Perry.  Judd had put forward the idea that Alvin was primarily motivated by the suffering of his victim and not a simple theft.

When the surgeon was searched cash, potions, and the cauterising irons were found.  It was not hard for Judd to convince his fellows of the foul torture that had been perpetrated, despite Alvin's pleas that he was innocent of any harmful actions. Deep down everyone knew that Alvin was an outsider, a travelling barber surgeon, not one of them like Judd.  The word of an outsider did not have the same value as one of their own. Furthermore, there had already been rumours about the surgeon's involvement in the death of the butcher, adding to the picture of guilt that the group was forming about the surgeon.  Ultimately they had caught him at the scene of the torture, and murder, of the carniter.  His guilt was obvious.

The surgeon had not prevented their attempts to detain him despite his protestations of innocence.  He had been roughly handled, punched, kicked, his nose broken and dragged back to the city.  The captors were intent on taking an early helping of revenge and once Law found out about the capture, he had hurried there, worried that there would be a summary execution.  Perry's corpse had also been bought back from the road, along with Alvin's possessions and equipment, and was currently laid on the back of cart, he feet sticking out of the back.

The constable arrived quickly, taking control of the gathering in the marketplace.  He calmed down the more excitable people present, while taking their prisoner into custody, as much for the surgeon's own protection as for the needs of the law.

              Events moved so quickly that Law was barely able to keep up.  As Alvin was dragged off to the gaol by the constable, Law caught up with his best friend, Judd, who discretely and firmly, got the story straight with him.  Law went along with it, swept along in the heat of the moment.  He felt so guilty now.

Law had not been looking forward to this day, yet he knew it was coming.  The court passed the sentence the previous day and it was not merciful.  The judgement had been quick passed, the evidence and the testimonies convincing those on the jury.  The boy, Mark, had tried to defend himself, but his word counted for nothing and the evidence was clear.  The thief had not been caught with the purse in his possession, but it had been found nearby, along the route of the chase.  Besides he did have the stolen comb in his possession and the sheriff, who was only present at this trial as he had to represent the presence of the king in the later trial of the surgeon, was convinced that the value of that alone was enough to bring about a death sentence, a valuation backed up by the trader it had been stolen from.

The boy had been consigned to the gaol for the night and the execution was to take place around midday.  Law tormented himself with the conviction that his own testimony had played a major part in this judgement.  It was he who chased down the thief, it was he who captured him.  While he had not found the purse, he had found the comb.  The boy would be executed and Law had played a significant part in this, having been a witness at the trial.

The next morning, Law sat outside the gaol, waiting for the procession to leave for the place of execution.  Mark, the thief, was removed from the gaol with his hands tied by rope.  He was placed on the back of a cart and driven through the city to the outskirts.  Law walked along with this procession, listening to the jeers of the city folk.

'This'll teach you, you thieving bastard!'  A short woman shouted at the criminal while throwing some rotten food.

'Stealing, he deserves to hang!' Shouted another of the crowd, a rather dirty man.

At various times, items were thrown at the boy on the back of the wagon, rotten food, clods of mud, even stones and the waste off the road.  The whole community seemed to be getting behind the theatre of the execution.  Law knew that this was quite normal, the whole purpose of the execution was to deter everyone proving that the law was just and brutal, the consequences too high if you were caught.  Throughout the journey the boy stood on the back of the wagon, hands tied in front of him, holding his balance against a pole.  Holding his face down, trying not to cry, he took the abuse and items that were hurled at him.  Law wondered what would be going thorough the mind of the thief.  The unfairness, the abuse, the cruelty?

The procession drew up at an empty field outside the city walls, close to the main road.  The gibbet was set up here, the previous occupants having recently been removed in preparation for this execution.  The cart drew up underneath the gibbet and the hangman set about his business of tying the noose around the boy's neck.  He did not struggle seemingly resigned to his death.

Law took up a position a couple of rows from the front.  From here he had a clear view of everything, the gibbet suitably high for everyone to see, but he could also see the whole theatre of the occasion.  The rope looked enormous around the tiny neck, showing the childlike shoulders and small stature of the young thief.  Likewise, the gibbet dwarfed the boy, who looked completely overwhelmed by the whole experience.  The condemned looked around in desperation, seeking last minute salvation.  The jeering from the crowd continued for quite some time as the boy awaited his fate, however, it eventually died down when the sheriff stepped forward to speak.

'A jury of your peers has found you guilty of theft.  The sentence passed is that you shall hang until you are dead.'  The sheriff spoke loudly and slowly, his voice audible to the entire crowd, who were taking in every word.  The chaplain climbed up onto the cart, and the already attentive crowd strained to hear his much quieter voice.  Prayers were said, the thief clearly not listening as he looked for a means of escape with increasing desperation, his earlier resignation long gone.

'We asked the Lord hath mercy upon your soul.'  The priest finished, stepping to one side with the sheriff moving to the back of the cart.

'You have been found guilty,' reiterated the sheriff in his clear voice, 'and there can be no further good come of you in this life other than to serve as an example for others.'  The crowd nodded, many making noises of agreement.

The priest and sheriff quickly climbed down from the cart and once they were clear the constable moved around to the front of the cart to signal the driver to start the oxen.  The cart jerked forward leaving the boy hanging from the rope, twitching in the breeze.  A complete hush fell across the crowd as they stopped moving, transfixed by the sight in front of them.  There were a few cries of 'Poor boy!', the odd crying baby, but the entire crowd could hear the strangling noises coming from the thief.  The boy started to jerk at the end of the rope, his face rapidly moving through red and purple, before settling to a bluish shade, his eyes bulging and extremities twitching.  With a scream a woman in the front row of the crowd fainted.  Yet still the boy did not die, rather the jerking grew worse and a wet patch emerged on his tights. 

Law was mesmerised by the whole process.  Here was someone dying as a result of actions he had committed.  Lawful actions, of course the boy was guilty, but the horror of the punishment disturbed him more than he had expected it would.  The drawn out suffering, the noises and sights, the smell of bowels releasing.  Law had not seen a punishment like this before, one that lasted so long.  All the hangings he had seen were quick.  Clearly the justice of the King was horrific.

Many minutes passed before the body was still, the crowd growing glummer as the spectacle progressed.  Even the traders of food, and the young boys attempting to pickpocket among the crowd, grew silent.  All were drawn to the clear demonstration that the law was just and terrible, with more than one mind dwelling on crimes they had got away with.  Hangings were usually quick, a spectacle, the greatest and most extreme form of entertainment available, a short drop breaking the neck.  This hanging scarred all who watched.  Law was the most scarred among them, knowing that the trial of the surgeon could have the same outcome and in that case he knew the surgeon was innocent.

'On Wednesday, information given to me, the Sheriff, that a certain John Perry, Carniter of the Leet lay dead of a death other than his rightful death.  He was found along the main road north out of the city.'  The Sheriff was a rotund man, who clearly enjoyed the fruits of representing the King.  He had already passed sentence on the thief a few days previously and today he was due to start hearing the case of the barber surgeon, 'We have summoned the good men of the ward and they will hear the case and pass judgement.'  The Sheriff completed the opening formalities and waved forward the jury members who were quickly sworn in with the instruction to diligently examine the case.

The hall was poorly lit, with little natural light piercing the old, and mostly shuttered, windows.   Large numbers of candles around the room provided the light to work from.  Work was underway to build a new town hall, but until it was complete, the old main hall in the castle keep would have to suffice.  The city had, in previous centuries, warranted a stone castle as a supplement for the ancient walls the Romans had built.  The castle was now falling into a state of disrepair, but other than a few leaks, the main hall was still usable and served as the primary meeting place for official events, meetings and trials.  A small garrison was maintained by one of the local lords, in addition to the city watch, the later present today in their brown tunics, their pikes and halberds excessive for the task of crowd control.