g and careful consideration, it was decided that
Tyrwhitt was in the wrong, and in the most abject manner he had to beg
the pardon of Sir William Ross, but we are told it was merely "lip
service."

The hatred of the two families was transmitted from sire to son until
the reign of James I., and then it broke out in open warfare. A battle
was fought at Melton Ross between the followers of Tyrwhitt and those of
the Earl of Rutland, the representative of the Ross family. In the
struggle several servants were slain, and the king adopted stringent
measures to prevent future bloodshed. He directed, so says tradition,
that a gallows be erected at Melton Ross, and kept up for ever, and that
if any more deaths should result from the old feud it should be regarded
as murder, and those by whom the deadly deed was committed were to be
executed on the gallows.

We hear nothing more of the feud after the gallows had been erected, the
action of the king being the means of settling a strife which had lasted
long and kept the district in turmoil.

The gallows is on the estate of the Earl of Yarborough, and it has been
renewed by him, and according to popular belief he is obliged to prevent
it falling into decay.

Gallows Customs.

When criminals were carried to Tyburn for execution, it was customary
for the mournful procession to stop at the Hospital of St. Giles in the
Fields, and there the malefactors were presented with a glass of ale.
After the hospital was dissolved the custom was continued at a
public-house in the neighbourhood, and seldom did a cart pass on the way
to the gallows without the culprits being refreshed with a parting
draught. Parton, in his "History of the Parish," published in 1822,
makes mention of a public-house bearing the sign of "The Bowl," which
stood between the end of St. Giles's High Street, and Hog Lane.

Particulars are given by Pennant and other writers of a similar custom
being maintained at York. It gave rise to the saying, that "The saddler
of Bawtry was hanged for leaving his liquor": had he stopped, as was
usual with other criminals, to drink his bowl of ale, his reprieve,
which was actually on its way, would have arrived in time to save his
life.

Robert Dowe, a worthy citizen of London, gave to the vicar and
churchwardens of St. Sepulchre's Church, London, fifty pounds, on the
understanding that through all futurity they should cause to be tolled
the big bell the night before the execut