meetings were allegedly held in the dead of night in Lord Walter’s mansion in Clothier Lane, a wealthy quarter of Cripplegate ward.’
‘And the purpose of these meetings?’
‘Lord Walter would receive a certain portion of all stolen goods. In return for this, when an indictment was presented against any of the gangs who did business with our Chief Justice, that indictment, for some obscure reason, would be rejected.’
‘As simple as that?’
‘Yes, Sir Hugh, as simple as that, but reflect.’ Staunton relished the opportunity to lecture this solemn-faced clerk. ‘An indictment can be rejected for many reasons before being forwarded to a jury: a mistake in law or in fact and that is the end of the matter. Lord Walter was, if anything, most skilled in the law and the beauty of its corruption, if you can call it that.’ He glanced hastily at the King. ‘The failed indictment has a brief reason for its rejection appended to it and that’s all.We examined the schedule of indictments and found list after list of rejections against notorious rifflers, all buried on points of law. Nothing could be done about them, but the writer from the Land of Cockaigne kept referring to other matters, especially those sinister, secret meetings late at night in Evesham’s mansion. A watch was kept. Four weeks ago, Blandeford and I observed two men slip through the dark and in by a postern gate. We surrounded the mansion, then forced an entrance. Lord Walter was found in his chancery chamber with Giles Waldene and Hubert the Monk. Both rifflers acted the innocent, but in Lord Walter’s personal coffer we found freshly minted coins stolen from the Royal Mint in the Tower. You may remember the robbery?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘As you know, Sir Hugh,’ the King added bitterly, ‘I hate these covens of rifflers. They disturb the peace, carry out numerous robberies, mock my authority and, above all, are used by the Great Ones of London to settle scores with each other.’
Corbett nodded sympathetically. Indeed he knew only too well. The King nursed a deep resentment, even hatred, for the merchant princes of London, with their vast profits from the wool trade. They in turn fiercely resented royal interference in what they saw as their city, they wanted to enjoy the same status and power as the self-governing communes of Florence and Venice to which they sold their precious wool.
‘The evidence against Evesham was compelling, though at the time he refused to comment,’ Staunton continued. ‘Why was he entertaining such wolfsheads in his own chamber at such an ungodly hour? Why did he have freshly minted gold coins in his coffer filched in a recent robbery? We believe Waldene and the Monk were responsible for that, though of course we had no proof that they had brought the gold there. Moreover,’ he lifted a finger, ‘that pair of rifflers, also trapped in the mire, later pleaded that if they were indicted, Evesham must also account—’
‘They recognised,’ Corbett intervened, ‘that his grace, fearful of hideous scandal, might be prepared to gloss over the matter regarding Evesham but not as regards to them. I’m sure they would have implicated the Chief Justice.’
‘Whatever those two wolfsheads decided,’ the King growled, ‘Evesham was finished. He’d grown arrogant as Lucifer. I confronted him in the Jerusalem Chamber at Westminster and threatened to put him on trial and seize all his chattels, including his beloved manor of Ingachin on the Welsh March. Evesham, caught red-handed, acted like a broken man. He offered to resign all his posts and retire as a recluse to the Abbey of Syon on Thames. I agreed.’
‘Why here?’ asked Corbett. ‘Why not some other monastery?’
‘Two reasons, perhaps.’ The King gestured with his cup towards the door. ‘Both acts of reparation. Evesham was not a prisoner, but rather a forced house guest. He was under strict instruction to assume the garb of a lay brother and
‘And the purpose of these meetings?’
‘Lord Walter would receive a certain portion of all stolen goods. In return for this, when an indictment was presented against any of the gangs who did business with our Chief Justice, that indictment, for some obscure reason, would be rejected.’
‘As simple as that?’
‘Yes, Sir Hugh, as simple as that, but reflect.’ Staunton relished the opportunity to lecture this solemn-faced clerk. ‘An indictment can be rejected for many reasons before being forwarded to a jury: a mistake in law or in fact and that is the end of the matter. Lord Walter was, if anything, most skilled in the law and the beauty of its corruption, if you can call it that.’ He glanced hastily at the King. ‘The failed indictment has a brief reason for its rejection appended to it and that’s all.We examined the schedule of indictments and found list after list of rejections against notorious rifflers, all buried on points of law. Nothing could be done about them, but the writer from the Land of Cockaigne kept referring to other matters, especially those sinister, secret meetings late at night in Evesham’s mansion. A watch was kept. Four weeks ago, Blandeford and I observed two men slip through the dark and in by a postern gate. We surrounded the mansion, then forced an entrance. Lord Walter was found in his chancery chamber with Giles Waldene and Hubert the Monk. Both rifflers acted the innocent, but in Lord Walter’s personal coffer we found freshly minted coins stolen from the Royal Mint in the Tower. You may remember the robbery?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘As you know, Sir Hugh,’ the King added bitterly, ‘I hate these covens of rifflers. They disturb the peace, carry out numerous robberies, mock my authority and, above all, are used by the Great Ones of London to settle scores with each other.’
Corbett nodded sympathetically. Indeed he knew only too well. The King nursed a deep resentment, even hatred, for the merchant princes of London, with their vast profits from the wool trade. They in turn fiercely resented royal interference in what they saw as their city, they wanted to enjoy the same status and power as the self-governing communes of Florence and Venice to which they sold their precious wool.
‘The evidence against Evesham was compelling, though at the time he refused to comment,’ Staunton continued. ‘Why was he entertaining such wolfsheads in his own chamber at such an ungodly hour? Why did he have freshly minted gold coins in his coffer filched in a recent robbery? We believe Waldene and the Monk were responsible for that, though of course we had no proof that they had brought the gold there. Moreover,’ he lifted a finger, ‘that pair of rifflers, also trapped in the mire, later pleaded that if they were indicted, Evesham must also account—’
‘They recognised,’ Corbett intervened, ‘that his grace, fearful of hideous scandal, might be prepared to gloss over the matter regarding Evesham but not as regards to them. I’m sure they would have implicated the Chief Justice.’
‘Whatever those two wolfsheads decided,’ the King growled, ‘Evesham was finished. He’d grown arrogant as Lucifer. I confronted him in the Jerusalem Chamber at Westminster and threatened to put him on trial and seize all his chattels, including his beloved manor of Ingachin on the Welsh March. Evesham, caught red-handed, acted like a broken man. He offered to resign all his posts and retire as a recluse to the Abbey of Syon on Thames. I agreed.’
‘Why here?’ asked Corbett. ‘Why not some other monastery?’
‘Two reasons, perhaps.’ The King gestured with his cup towards the door. ‘Both acts of reparation. Evesham was not a prisoner, but rather a forced house guest. He was under strict instruction to assume the garb of a lay brother and
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