Tag Archives: c17

The London Spy visits Whitefriars

What happened to the sanctuaries after the passing of the 1697 act against “pretended privileged places” is a difficult question. In at least one case, a sanctuary survived it:  Southwark Mint continued to harbour debtors until 1722. Perhaps this was because there were a number of places in London known as ‘The Mint’; the legislation didn’t specify which was to be stripped of its rights. Also, the 1697 act was specifically aimed at the rights of debtors, the most important and immediate cause of consternation, but possibly not the only freedom offered by these areas. Clandestine marriages, for example, appear to have been carried out in many of the sanctuaries named in the act long after its passing.

The extracts below, by Ned Ward, contrast two sanctuaries named in the 1697 act. Despite their proximity, Salisbury Court has a nocturnal crew of villains of all types, whilst Whitefriars is sparsely populated, a “neglected asylum, so very thin of people, the windows broke, and the houses untenanted.” The debtors have abandoned it, only publishers (of pornography) remain.

Ned Ward was a prolific writer, one of the first ‘grub street hacks’, and enjoyable to read even if, frankly, he’s not very good. His prose is purple, the similies over-abundant and strained, and the moral indignation – that every one is debauched – repeated ad nauseum. There doesn’t seem to be a woman in London who is not a prostitute. Yet there’s a scabarous wit, scatalogical humour (then as now a crowd pleaser), and some entertaining turns of language. The texts below is taken from his ‘London Spy’ series, published in the later years of William III, via the edition published – somewhat bowdlerized – by the Folio Society edition of 1955. The first extract is from page 120-1, the second pp. 123-4.

Ward on Salisbury Court:

Being now landed upon terra firma, we steer’d our course to Salisbury Court, where every two or three steps we met some old figure or another that look’d as if the devil had rob’d ’em of all their natural beauty, and infus’d his own infernal spirit into their corrupt carcases, for nothing could be read but devilism in every feature. Theft, whoredom, homicide, and blasphemy, peep’d out at the very windows of their sous. Lying, perjury, fraud, impudence and misery, were the only graces of their countenance.

One with slip shoes, without stockings, and a dirty smock (visible thro’ a crepe petticoat) was stepping from the alehouse to her lodgings with a parcel of pipes in one hand, and a gallon pot of guzzle in the other, yet her head was dres’d up as to much advantage as if the members of her body were sacrific’d to all wickedness to keep her ill-look’d face in a little finery. Another, I suppose taken from the oyster tub and put into whore’s allurements, made a more cleanly appearance but became her ornaments as a sow a hunting saddle. Every now and then a fellow would bolt out and whip nimbly cross the way, beaing equally fearful, as I imagine, of both constable and serjeant, and look’d as if the dread of the gallows had drawn its picture in his countenance.

Said I to my friend, ‘What can these people be, who are so stigmatis’d in their looks that they may be known as well from the rest of mankind as Jews from Christians? They seem to be so unlike God’s creatures, that I cannot but fancy them a colony of hell-cats planted here by the Devil as a mischief to mankind.’ ‘Why truly,’ says my friend, ‘they are such an abominable race of degenerate reprobates that they admit of no comparison on this side [of] Hell’s dominions. All this part, quite up to the square, is a corporation of whores, coiners, highwaymen, pickpockets, and house-breakers. Like bats and owls they skulk in obscure holes by daylight, but wander in the night in search of opportunities wherein to exercise their villainy.’

Ward on Whitefriars:

We soon departed hence, my friend conducting me to a place called White Friars, which he told me was formerly of great service to the honest traders of the City, who, if they could by cant, flattery and dissimulation, procure large credit amongst their zealous fraternity, would slip in here with their effects, take sanctuary against the laws, compound their debts for a small matter, and oftentimes get a better estate by breaking than they could propose to do by trading. But now a late Act of Parliament has taken away its privilege, and since knaves can neither go broken with safety nor advantage, it is observ’d there are not a quarter so many shopkeepers play at bo-peep with their creditors as when they were encourag’d to be rogues by such cheating conveniences.

We thus enter’d the debtors’ garrison, where till of late, says my friend, Old Nick broach’d all his wicked inventions, making this place the very theatre of sin, where his most choice villainies were daily represented. As we pass’d thro’ the gateway, I observ’d a stall of books, and the first that I glanced my eye upon happen’d to be dignified and distinguish’d by this venerable title: The Comforts of Whoring and the Vanity of Chastity, together with a Poem in Praise of the Pox. Bless me! thought I, sure this book was printed in Hell and writ by the Devil, for what diabolical scribbler on earth could be the author of such unparalleled impudence? I was so supris’d with the title that I was quite thoughtless of inspecting into the matter, but march’d on until we came into the main street of this neglected asylum, so very thin of people, the windows broke, and the houses untenanted, as if the plague (or some like judgement from Heaven) as well as executions on earth had made a great slaughter amongst the poor inhabitants.

We met but very few persons within these melancholy precincts, and those by the airiness of their dresses, the forwardness of their looks, and the affectedness of their carriage, seem’d to be some neighbouring lemans, who lay conveniently to be squeez’d by the young fumblers of the law; who are apt to spend more time upon Phyllis and Chloris than upon Coke and Littleton.

John Evelyn and Saint Martins In The Fields

A curious entry in John Evelyn’s diary, and the only one I’ve found concerning sanctuary:

[1687] 25th March. Good Friday. Dr Tenison preached at St. Martin’s on 1 Peter ii. 24. During the service, a man came into near the middle of the church, with his sword drawn, with several others in that posture; in this jealous time it put the congregation into great confusion; but it appeared to be one who fled for sanctuary, being pursued by bailiffs. [vol 3, p.219]

This is strange for a number of reasons. Firstly, it’s the only mention I’ve yet discovered of refuge being claimed in St Martins in the Fields; it’s not listed amongst the ‘pretended privileged places’ in the Act of 1697, and there doesn’t appear to be a community of debtors inhabiting the environs. Secondly, it takes place in a working church; the post-reformation sanctuaries based on religious right were on the site of dissolved monasteries, as with Whitefriars and Montague Close. Does this mean that sanctuary was believed to be found in any church? Thirdly, the claim is made on Good Friday; I’m surprised bailiffs were working on a holy day. Evelyn, alas, says no more of the incident.

For the sake of clarity, note that this is St Martins In The Fields, on the north eastern corner of Trafalgar Square, the current church dating from 1726, and not St Martins le Grand, a very important sanctuary in the heart of the City before the reformation. More on the latter to follow, but in the meantime, read McSheffrey’s excellent article Sanctuary and the Legal Topography of Pre-Reformation London (nb: link fixed 5/8/2015).

Luttrell on Winter

Continuing the search for documents about Captain Francis Winter, leader of the Alsatians in the riot against the Templars, here are extracts from Narcissus Luttrell’s A Brief Historical Relation of State Affairs from September 1678 to April 1714. This  is an important chronicle of parliamentary affairs over 36 years, covering a great range of  ‘high governance’, including military reports, diplomatic negotiations and parliamentary debates.

There’s also frequent tallying of criminal trials and executions, amongst which we find that of Winter. The first extract gives a rather different account of the riot, giving details of two deaths but not that of the deputy John Chandler for which Winter was tried. It notes that ‘divers of the Alsatians’ were taken prisoner at the time, but no one else appears to have been prosecuted. Winter himself absconded, and was only captured two years later. There is also mention of Winter proclaiming the usurped King James II, a serious charge, but not one that I have found in any other record.

The question of why the Queen briefly reprieved Winter is left hanging, but other entries explain why the Queen had responsibility: William III was away fighting on the continent. “The King is at Breda” says the entry for 13th April 1693. Luttrell notes that the Mayor and Aldermen of the City pressed for the death sentence to be carried out; the riot was a terrible affront to them, and their rank and weight surely damned any possibility of clemency.

Text in the public domain, taken from volumes 2 and 3 of Luttrell’s A Brief Historical Relation at archive.org. Spelling as was, in all its irregular glory.

1st July 1691: The benchers of the Inner Temple, having given orders for bricking up their little gate leading into Whitefryars, and their workmen being at work thereon, the Alsatians came and pull’d it down as they built it up: whereupon the sherifs were desired to keep the peace, and accordingly came, the 4th, with their officers; but the Alsatians fell upon them, and knockt several of them down, and shott many guns amongst them, wounded several, two of which are since dead; a Dutch soldier passing by was shott thro’ the neck, and a woman into the mouth; sir Francis Child himself, one of the sherifs, was knockt down, and part of his gold chain taken away. The fray lasted several hours, but at last the Alsatians were reduced by the help of a body of the kings guards; divers of the Alsatians were seized and sent to prison. (Vol. 2, pp.259-260.)

27th April 1693: The sessions is now, where capt. Winter who headed the mob about 2 years since in White Fryars against the sheriffs of London, where 2 or 3 persons were killed, was found guilty of murder, and 2 persons swore at that time he proclaimed king James. (Vol. 3, p.86.)

6th May 1693: The dead warrant is come downe for executing 10 of the criminalls on Monday and capt. Winter on Tuesday. (Vol. 3, p.94.)

9th May 1693: 8 malefactors were yesterday executed at Tyburn; but Middleton, Martin, and Winter were reprieved; on which the lord mayor and aldermen this day agreed on an addresse to the queen to have them executed. (Vol. 3, p.95.)

13th May 1693: The councill have ordered capt. Winter, Middleton, and Martin to be executed as soon as the date of their reprieves are out. (Vol. 3, .p97.)

18 May 1693: Capt. Winter was yesterday executed in Fleetstreet, opposite to White Fryars: he died very penitently; and after he was cut downe from the gibbet, he was put into a coffin, and interr’d this evening. (Vol. 3, pp.99-100.)

The Ordinary of Newgate’s account of Captain Francis Winter

The Ordinary of Newgate was the curious title of that prison’s chaplain. One of the perks of the post was the right to the publication of the biographies and last words of the condemned, and it is the account of Captain Francis Winter, leader of the Alsatians in the riot against the Templars, we present here.

From this account we find that Winter was a sailor born in Truro, Cornwall; charges that he was a ‘copper’, i.e. pretended, captain, as made by  Thornbury in Old and New London, are unfounded, for he was made a captain of a merchant vessel in the West Indies, then fought “with a great deal of Candor and Courage” in the third Anglo-Dutch war (1672-4). Presuming he was in his twenties then, he would be in his forties by the time he fought against the Sheriff of London. At some unspecified time after the war, he fell into debt – how so isn’t said – and he fled to Whitefriars.

“At the Head of about Fourscore” [80] “mutineers”, a sizable contingent, Winter led the resistance to the Sheriffs. Barrels were put out to obstruct the authorities and provide cover for the Alsatians. The cry was ‘One and all, they would kill them, rather than any Man should be taken out from them, by way of an Arrest.’ This is a determined and organized force. How it ended isn’t clear; Winter was arrested some time later, having ‘absconded’, although we don’t know where he went.

As noted in the previous post, several thousand attended his execution; afterwards his corpse was taken for burial “in the Sepulchre with his Brethren.” Does this mean that the cemetery of the old monastery was still used? One wonders how the funeral was conducted, with what ceremony and who presided over it. There’s reference to a reprieve made by the Queen, then “a Fresh Warrant from her Majesty”, which raises questions of what was going on behind closed doors, and why the Queen, rather than William III, issued the documents. There is still more of this case to investigate.

The text is taken from the transcription at the Old Bailey Online. I have checked it against the page images (1, 2) and made some corrections. Capitalization and spelling remain as in the original. The OBO terms of use read: “All material is made available free of charge for individual, non-commercial use only.”

For a pithy introduction to the Ordinary and his publications, see Old Bailey Online.

Citation: Old Bailey Proceedings (www.oldbaileyonline.org, 24 June 2010), Ordinary of Newgate’s Account, 19 May 1693 (OA16930517).

AN ACCOUNT OF THE Condemnation, Behaviour, Execution, and Last dying Words OF Captain Francis Winter,

Who was Condemned at the Sessions-House in the  Old-Baily, on Saturday the 29 April, For the Murther of one John Chandler, in  White Fryers in London, Etc. and Executed for the same at White-Fryars-Gate in Fleet street, on Wednesday the 17 May 1693.

19 May 1693.

SEveral Reports, of this Nature, have been oftentimes Manifested in Print; many, of which, have seemed to look somewhat obscure, till it hath been more particularly dissected, and laid open, in all its Agravating Circumstances. And indeed; till that be done, there are a sort of Men in the World, who are apt to asperse the Superior Powers, as if they were too Severe in the Execution of Justice; but, when their Eyes are enlightned by the due Weight of Reason, then perhaps they will be of another mind, unless they are Prejudiced beyond the bounds of Natural Reason, and Common Sence, therefore, it will not be inconvenient to give the Reader a Brief Account (by the way) of the Matter of Fact, in Relation to this Unfortunate Gentleman, Etc.

Some Persons (it is very likely) have not forgotten, that about the 4th of July last, was Twelve Month, there was a Mutinous, or Riotous Assembly Raised, and got together in White Fryars, in London, in opposition to the Gentlemen of the  Inner Temple, who stopt up a Passage that led out of the said Fryars into the  Temple walks, the Gentlemen finding the said Passage to be very incommodious to them, upon the hot Resistance of the White Fryars men, there was likely to be great Mischief done, to prevent, appease, and qualifie which, the then present Sheriffs of London, (being sent for) came with their Officers and Attendants, entered in at the Fryars Gate, endeavouring to make open Proclamation, that all Persons should Cease, and go Home in Peace to their Respective Abodes: But this was not Regarded by the Mutineers, for they were the more Incensed, and came with great Fury against the High Sheriffs, this Gentleman being at the Head of about Fourscore of them, as their Captain and Leader, with a Blunderbuss in his hand, which he was seen to Fire off several times, bidding defiance to the Sheriffs; and all those who were their Assistance, crying One and all, they would kill them, rather than any Man should be taken out from them, by way of an Arrest, but that was lookt upon to be but a false Suggestion, and a Cunning Plea of their own Forging they having no Regard to Authority, for they had placed several Casks on both sides of the Street, on purpose to Impede the Passage of the Sheriffs, and some of them lay secretly behind them, as it were on purpose, to lye in Wait to take an Advantage, Etc. Firing several times against the Sheriffs and their Men, the Captain being at the Head of them, as aforesaid. And Chandler, the poor Man, who was killed, being on the Sheriffs side, had the misfortune to be shot in the Calf of his Leg, with a Leaden Bullet, which wound killed him in two or three Days, he solemnly protesting upon his Death-Bed, that he knew Captain Winter very well, and that he was the Man that shot him for which Fact the Captain, for some considerable time, Absconded, but was lately Apprehended, and Committed to  Newgate for the same, and was this last Sessions tryed for it, and found Guilty of Murther, and on the 29 April he was Condemned, in Order to be Executed with the other Criminals, who suffer’d at  Tyburn, the 8th. Instant. But, by Vertue of Her Majestys Gracious Reprieve, he was Respited until this day, Etc. As for his Birth, he was Born at Truro in Cornwall, then sent Apprentice to a Captain of Ship, after this he was made a Captain of a Merchant Man to the West Indias himself, after that he Commanded a Ship in the last Dutch Wars, where (to say the Truth) he behaved himself with a great deal of Candor and Courage, afterwards he fell into decay, and had Contracted some Debts in the World, which occasioned him to fly for Refuge into White Fryers, where he had the Unhappiness to be Engaged in such an unworthy Design, and Violent Attempt, as aforesaid.

He had not much to offer in his Defence at his Tryal, only in the General, that altho’ he was there amongst the Multitude, yet there were others that Shot, and therefore the Man might fall by another hand as well as his, or to that Effect, Etc. After Condemnation he Behav’d himself in a Christian like manner, being much Concerned for his Souls Everlasting Welfare, desiring the Advice, Good Counsel, and Prayers, of all those Worthy Divines that came near him, acknowledging the Justice of God, in bringing him to Undergo so Severe a Punishment, for that he had been guilty of several Irregularities in the Course of his Life, and had not walked up to the strict Rules of the Christian Religion as he ought to have done, which he now Lamented, and was exceedingly troubled for, therefore he hoped that God would forgive him, being willing to submit to the Righteous Judgement of God Almighty. He gave himself to Reading, Prayer, Hearing God’s Word, and to all other Exercises of Religion, being willing to adhear to all Seasonable Advice, that might any ways advance his mind, and set his thoughts on Heavenly Things, Relying only upon the Merits of Christ, for his future Happiness; he carryed himself humbly, during his Imprisonment, both before and after Conviction, though Naturally of a stout, hardy and undaunted spirit, was no ways affrighted at the near approaches of Death, giving God the Praise for such a Respite of Time, in Order to prepare his soul for another World.

On Wednesday morning, the 17th. Instant as abovesaid, (by Vertue of a Fresh Warrant from her Majesty) he was put into a Coach at Newgate Stairs, and from thence Conveyed down  Old Baily, and over  Fleet-Bridge, to the Fryars Gate, in the way to which place, there were several Thousands of Spectators, who thronged to see him, when the Cart was settled under the Gibbet, and he put into it, (which was Erected there on purpose) he stood up, and spake as follows: I have no Publick Declaration to make here, my Thoughts being wholly taken up in the Concerns of my Eternal Welfare, for that is the Work that I am come here to do: Therefore I desire that I may not be interrupted. Then the Minister Prayed with him, and for him, and Recommended him to the Mercy of God, Etc.

After this, he Pray’d in these Words.

O Most Great and Glorious Lord God, do thou look down in Mercy upon me, a Poor Miserable Sinner, and shew thy blessed Face to me, now in this Hour of my Extremity, for what am I without thee, therefore O Lord! I beseech thee to Pardon my Sins, and Wash my Soul clean in the Blood of CHRIST JESUS, and deliver me O Lord from the guilt and defilement of Sin; Holy Father do thou Receive me into Mercy, for into thy Hands I Commend my Sprit: O Lord let it be Precious in thy Sight, and let it live with thee in Everlasting Glory: Now I come, sweet JESUS now I am coming to thee; Dear JESUS do thou plead my Cause with the Great GOD of Heaven and Earth, and send down thy Blessed Spirit to Assist and Help me in this Great Work I am now about; I am a Poor Worthless Creature, full of Sin and Misery; yet do thou Lord JESUS take pitty upon my Precious Soul: O Lord JESUS come quickly, for I am now coming to thee, therefore I Humbly beg thee O GOD to Receive my poor Soul into the Arms of thy Everlasting loving Kindness, Lord! Into thy Hands I Commend my Sprit, for thou hast Redeemed it O LORD GOD of Truth Amen.

Then the Cart drew away, and afterwards he was Carryed into White-Fryars, to be Inter’d in the Sepulchre with his Brethren, Etc.

Francis Winter’s Last Farewell

In 1691, the lawyers of The Temple, itself a liberty, sought to block up a gate connecting it to Whitefriars. The Alsatians, seeing this as an impediment to their movements in and out of their sanctuary, raised a mob, attacked the builders and demolished the newly-built wall. The Sheriffs of London arrived to restore order, and in the ensuing battle one of their officers, a John Chandlor, was shot in the leg with a blunderbuss. Two days later, having identified his assailant, he died of his injuries, and the leader of the Whitefriars men, Captain Francis Winter, was arrested for murder.

This riot, and Winter’s subsequent execution for his part in it, seems to have become quite renowned. It was an exceptional event for a number of reasons. Firstly, it was not the more common hue and cry against bailiffs seeking to seize a debtor, but a defence of rights of way and freedom of movement – the Alsatians had no wish for their sanctuary to be walled in. Secondly, it escalated from a dispute between two groups of citizens into armed resistance against the legal authorities of London, and so to the law outright. Given the political context of James II’s dethroning and William III’s settlement with parliament, this was not to be taken lightly. Thirdly, at Winter’s trial, the Judge had directed the jury to find him guilty, regardless of whether or not he had fired the fatal shot, on the grounds

“That where any Lawful Authority shall be opposed by any Riot, or Riotous Assembly, this implied Malice in Law, in the Persons so offending, and they were all equally guilty; and consequently, if the Prisoner did not shoot Chandlor, yet he was guilty of Murther, because he did abet, promote, stir up, and maintain such a Rebellious and Unlawful Assembly.” (Source: Old Bailey Online)

Thus it was more for insurrection than murder that Winter was found guilty, and he was hanged on the 17th May 1693, at Fryars Gate, the main entrance to the sanctuary.

There are a number of documents relating to this story, and the first I present is the ballad “Francis Winter’s last Farewel.” It is typical of the execution songs of the seventeenth century: a single sheet cheaply produced (the woodcut looks to be recycled), claiming to be the last words of the condemned, confessing to terrible deeds, solemnly making repentance and warning others not to follow in such evil ways. Verses 5 to 7 give the substance of the case: the narrator admits to heading an armed crew against the sheriff, and by extension “against the wholesome laws of this my native land.” But if he concedes to rebellion, he does not admit to murder: “whether I kill’d the man or no, I cannot justly say.”

The last verse mentions “the thousands that are standing by”, witnessing his death. The Ordinary of Newgate wrote “there were several Thousands of Spectators, who thronged to see him.” (Source: Old Bailey Online) Given that Winter was executed at the very entrance to Whitefriars, we can presume that all Alsatia turned out to pay their last respects.

Illustration from the handbill 'Francis Winter's Last Farewell'
Francis Winter's Last Farewell

Francis Winter’s last Farewel:
OR, THE
White-Fryers Captain’s Confession and Lamentation,
Just before his Execution at the Gate of White-Fryers, on the 17th
of this instant May, 1693. Tune of, Russel’s Farewel.

Behold these sorrows now this day,
you that are standers by,
All former joys are fled away,
now I am brought to die:
My heart is fill’d with fear and dread,
for here is no relief,
Since I a sinful life have led,
I nothing see but Grief.

I spent my days with roaring boys,
and little thought of death,
But where are all those fading joys,
now I must loose my breath:
Now they are clearly fleed from me,
and there is no relief,
Alas! alas! I nothing see,
but bitter clouds of Grief.

Alas! the follies of my youth
comes fresh into my mind;
Had I been guided by the truth,
then had I left behind
A better name then now I shall,
alas!  here’s no relief;
I by the hand of justice fall,
and nothing see but Grief.

Bold Francis Winter is my name,
who seem’d to bear the sway,
But now, alas! in open shame
I do appear this day:
My former joys have taken flight,
for here is no relief;
Grim Death appears this day in sight,
which fills my soul with Grief.

I must acknowledge this is true,
that when in arms we rose,
I was the captain of that crew
which did the sheriff oppose:
‘Tis said a man was slain by me,
therefore here’s no relief,
For I must executed be,
and nothing see but Grief.

Whether I kill’d the man or no,
I cannot justly say
But since in arms we acted so
we seem’d to disobey
The city’s lawful magistrate;
therefore here’s no relief.
And I must here submit to fate,
I nothing see but Grief.

It was against the wholesome laws
of this my native land,
To rise in arms, and be the cause
of that rebellious band,
Who broke through law and justice too,
of which I was the chief,
For which I bid the world adieu;
I nothing see but Grief.

Let my misfortunes teach the rest
obedience to the laws;
Let them not magistrates molest,
for that has been the cause
Of shedding blood, for which I die,
I being there the chief;
The very minute’s drawing night,
I nothing see but Grief.

I oftentimes have wish’d, in vain,
that I had not been there;
Nay, were it to be done again,
I shou’d that deed forbear,
And not myself with such inthral,
tho’ then I was the chief;
But what is past, I can’t recal,
I nothing see but Grief.

The thousands that are standing by,
alas! you little know
My inward grief and misery,
and what I undergo:
O let me have your prayers this day,
my sorrows here condole:
I now have nothing more to say,
but, Lord receive my soul.

Printed for J. Deacon, at the Sign of the Angel in Guiltspur-street.

Plain text in the public domain, taken from English Broadside Ballad Archive, University of California at Santa Barbara, and corrected against that in the Bagford Ballads (p.340) at archive.org. Image in the public domain, again taken from the Bagford Ballads at archive.org. The intro is CC-BY-SA.

The Commons debates Whitefriars, 1697

The following account of the Commons debate on the 1697 act abolishing the sanctuaries is taken from William Cobbett’s Parliamentary History of England, vol 5., London 1809, column 1161. From where he got his source material I don’t know. This piece is certainly written after the passing of the act, as it ends with the Alsatians fleeing the sanctuary (quite possible, but that is for another post).

Despite the brevity, there’s several notable points. It specifically makes a link to ‘Romish superstition’, implying a Catholic element to the mores and morals of the sanctuary dwellers. This may be an example of protestant paranoia of those heady times, but religious dissent is part of the history of Montague Close.

It also makes it clear that Whitefriars was the most notorious of the sanctuaries; that its inhabitants were debtors, under civil, rather than criminal, law; and that they were organized and actively resisting the law – truly, they were outlaws.

After Sir J. Fenwick’s business was over, the parliament, to the great satisfaction of the people, took care to remedy a Public Grievance of long standing. Several places in and about the city of London, which in the times of the Romish superstition, were allowed as sanctuaries to criminals and debtors, had ever since the Reformation, pretended a privilege to protect the latter; and one of these, called White Fryers, was become a notorious receptacle of broken and desperate men, in the very heart of the metropolis, whither they resorted in great numbers, and, to the dishonour of the government, and great prejudice of the people, defended themselves with force and violence against the law and public authority. This intolerable mischief the parliament redressed by an ‘Act for the more effectual relief of creditors in cases of escapes, and for preventing abuses in prisons and pretended privileged places’; wherein such effectual provision was made to reduce those outlaws, that, immediately after the act was published, they abandoned their posts to better inhabitants.

The Sanctuaries of Southwark, 1: Montague Close

Modern day Montague Close in the environs of Southwark Cathedral
Modern day Montague Close in the environs of Southwark Cathedral

A chance find in a secondhand bookshop (thank you Kirkdale Bookshop) means I begin analysing the sanctuaries abolished in 1697 with Montague Close, in the environs of what is now called Southwark Cathedral.

The book is Florence Higham’s Southwark Story, published in 1955 to co-incide with the Golden Jubilee of the Cathedral and the Diocese of Southwark. Although sometimes sanctimonious, there are important details about the Close within it, and makes a suggestion I have not come across before, of sanctuaries as a place for religious dissidents.

An Augustinian priory was established on that site in 1106, dedicated to St Mary. It became known as St Marys Overy or Overie’s, meaning ‘over the river’ and was dissolved on October 14th 1539, with the remaining canons receiving a pension and lodging in the precincts. (Higham, p.99) (Higham’s book and the Southwark Cathedral website differ on details here: the former says 12 canons were there at the last, but implies only the Prior received housing, the later says 6 remained, all of whom “continued to live in the buildings north of the church”.)

As can be seen in the map above, Montague Close runs around three sides of the church building. It was named after Lord Montague, whose father, Sir Anthony Browne, “the man who benefited most from the sequestration” (Higham, p.100) had adapted the Prior’s house as his town residence. As it had once been part of the priory, it could be said to retain the rights of sanctuary attached to it, especially as the church remained in use. By the time of Elizabeth I, it was in “the hands of a family that remained true to the Pope, uneasy recusants more often than not were the guests that frequented Montague Close.” (Higham, p.122) Lord Montague had voted against her Act of Uniformity in 1559, asking “What man is there so without courage or stomach or void of all honour that can consent or agree to receive an opinion and new religion by force or complusion?” “The vote went against him but his loyalty to the Queen and to his religion did not falter. His commonsense honesty secured him many friends and he was undisturbed in his religion.” (Higham, p.138) War with Spain put an end to such tolerance, and “the prisons of Southwark were crowded with suspect Papists, in particular an ancient hostelry known as the White Lion, now set apart for this purpose. Government agents reported regularly that secret masses were held in the Marshalsea, that priests were hiding in Montague Close, that seditious speeches had been overheard.” Nevertheless, when Montague died, he left the Close to his wife, who maintained the support of her neighbours. (Higham, p.138)

By the 1620s, Montague Close was known as a sanctuary for debtors; Thomas Powell – who may have been the first to put into print the term Alsatia – mentions it in his Wheresoever you see mee, Trust unto Yourselfe: or the Mysterie of Lending and Borrowing. It consisted of “mean cottages and habitations for the poorer sort of people that crowded themselves together” – either there had been new building in the area, or the old buildings had been subdivided. (Higham, p.166) During the English Civil War, press gangs were reported in the liberties, Higham making the intriuging comment that the residents of Southwark were “for once unable to wrest to their advantage the conflicting jurisdictions.” (Higham, p.190) (I’ll return to the Interregnum and it’s effects on the liberties in a future post, as with Powell.)

The church,  then known as St Saviours, was in the hands of Presbyterians, one of the ministers being a John Crodacott, a graduate of Magdalen, Oxford. He held that post until shortly after the restoration when he was ejected for not accepting the new Prayer book; a hardliner, the previous year he had tried to suppress the reinstitution of Christmas as a holiday, which led to “tumults …. in the streets.” However, he remained in the precincts, living in Montague Close in a house “with many ways to go out above and below.” (Higham, p.204) Very useful when one has to leave in a hurry! The immediate area became a refuge for Presbyterians and Independents, congregations setting up in the Close,  The Clink / Deadman’s Place, and in Globe Alley, situated between the two sanctuaries. A house of Anabaptists and Fifth Monarchists was to be found on St Mary’s Dock (which now holds the Golden Hind, marked on the map above), bordering the Close but not actually part of it.

In 1706, a charity school opened in one corner of Montague Close (Higham, p.224-5); this can be taken as a sign of normality, the 1697 act being successfully implemented (although that does not go for the liberty of Southwark Mint). There was still religious defiance, but on the part of the Tories with Henry Sacheverell preaching his high Anglicism, and the successful opposition to the 1696 bill for ‘better regulation’ of the vestries.

Higham’s book is basically a religious history; there is only passing mention of debtors and criminals, who probably made up most of the population of the sanctuaries. Fair enough: she decides what she writes about. The idea of refuges for Catholics and dissenters, and the corresponding political importance of this, I have not seen elsewhere. Montague Close may be exceptional, as it was attached to a functioning church, whereas the monastery at Whitefriars was dissolved entirely, no religious institution taking its place. The vicissitudes of the time meant that those seeking sanctuary had once run the Church – first the Catholics, then the Presbyterians. This is very handy for putting down roots and getting local knowledge. But Montague Close was also a sanctuary for others as well. As ever, the historians’ fudge: More research is required!

Map generated from Open Street Map data under a CC-BY-SA license. Click to enlarge.

The 1697 act against ‘pretended privileged places’

Or, to give it its full name, An Act for the more effectual relief of creditors in cases of escapes, and for preventing abuses in prisons, and pretended privileged places. (Anno 8 & 9 William III cap 27)

This very important law requires lengthy analysis, covering as it does prisons, sanctuaries, escapes, and the debtors involved in all three. Suffice for the moment to point out that the act signaled the reconquering of the lawless areas by the newly-minted Williamite state, reform of the houses of detention and enforcement of commercial and financial contracts. Here, I shall take a preliminary look at just one part, not even a whole sentence, but the list of ‘pretended privileged places’ in §15:

…. the White Friers, Savoy, Salisbury Court, Ram Alley, Mitre Court, Fuller’s Rents, Baldwin’s Gardens, Montague Close, or the Minories, Mint, Clink, or Deadman’s Place, ….

Firstly, to clear up some confusion: there are ten places listed, two of which have nicknames (Montague Close is also known as the Minories, Clink as Deadman’s Place), and Fuller’s Rents is a different place to Fulwoods Rents. These errors may stem from the 1911 Encyclopaedia, available online and used for a base by wikipedia by virtue of being out of copyright.

This does not list all the anomalous areas in London, but only those that had gone ‘wild’, that is, were being actively used to escape the law. (This does not preclude other areas being refuges of some sort.) Of the ten places ennumerated, three are transpontine, being in close proximity in Southwark: Montague Close, the Mint and the Clink. One, The Savoy, is nominally in the City of Westminster, but under the jurisdiction of the Palatinate of Lancaster. Baldwin’s Gardens was in the Parish of St Andrew, Holborn, outside the City of London.

The remaining five are all to be found in Farringdon Ward Without, outside the walls of the City of London, but part of it administratively. Whitefriars is, of course, Alsatia proper; Fuller’s Rents are to the west, in the Temple, between Fleet Street and Kings Bench Walk; Mitre Court and Ram Alley also in the Temple, Salisbury Court just a little way along to the east, before one reaches the Bridewell. The precise locations of these areas have still to be determined – modern street names are a very poor guide, and there have been numerous Mitre Places in London.

The wild sanctuaries then are all outside the City walls, even though there were a number of sanctuaries within them prior to the reformation (Saint Martin Le Grand for example). Around Whitefriars and the South Bank are where they are concentrated, and the Savoy is also close to the river. Baldwin’s Gardens looks quite anomalous geographically.

In following posts, I will discuss each of these places individually, and hopefully produce a map showing as clearly as possible their locations and extent.

I will put the full text of this law online eventually; until then, it can be read at British History Online, alas, without punctuation. This may also explain the taking of nicknames as separate places. Such statutes aren’t easy to read at the best of times, but really!

Laroon’s “Squire of Alsatia”

The Squire of Alsatia, by Marcellus Laroon
The Squire of Alsatia, by Marcellus Laroon

Marcellus Laroon was born in 1649 in the Hague, and brought to Britain by his father, an artist, around 1660. After serving an apprenticeship as a painter and working in Yorkshire, he settled in London around the mid 1670s, setting up at 4 Bow Street, Covent Garden. The market there provided him with the subject matter for his series The Cryes of the City of London, drawne after the Life, a set of 74 portraits of London characters first published in 1687. One of them is The Squire of Alsatia, the reproduction above taken from a reprint of 1813. (The credit beneath it reads: Pub.d Aug.t 10. 1813 by R.S. Kirby 11 London House Yard.)

A dandy, dressed a la mode, with a large befeathered hat, lace neckerchief, cane and sword, strikes a pose. The flamboyance implies aristocratic status, but is a facade. James Granger, in his Biographical Dictionary of England, identifies the real-life subject as Bully Dawson, “a notorious gambler and black-leg [card-sharp] of his time” and goes on:

…. one of the gamesters of White Friars, which was notorious for these pests of society, who were generally dressed to the extremity of the mode. Their phraseology abounded with such words as are sometimes introduced by pretenders to politeness and “dunces of figure,” whom Swift reckons among the principal corrupters of our language. The reader may see much of this jargon, which indeed requires a glossary to understand it, in Shadwell’s comedy, entitled “The ‘Squire of Alsatia,” which was brought upon the stage in this reign.

The scan above is taken from a print in my possession, and is in the public domain. Click on the picture for the full size version, which may be freely shared.

Update 6/9/2009: Image uploaded to Wikimedia Commons.