g led by the winding "Thieven Lane" outside to their
prison in the gatehouse, and darting into the consecrated ground would
defy all attempts to lure them forth.

Rich men run thither with poor men's goods. There they
build, there they spend and bid their creditors go whistle
for them. Men's wives run thither with their husband's
plate, and say they dare not abide with their husbands for
beating. Thieves bring thither their stolen goods, and there
live thereon. There devise they new robberies: nightly they
steal out, they rob and reave, and kill, and come in again
as though these places gave not only a safeguard for the
harm they have done, but a license also to do more.[27]

The results of this state of things were felt long after the right of
Sanctuary ceased to exist in James the First's reign. The district
outside the precincts of Westminster has always been one of the very
worst in London. The writer remembers some twenty years ago walking home
with her relative, Mr. Froude, from Sunday afternoon service at the
Abbey, through Great Peter street, and being told to take care of her
purse as every house was a thieves' den. In many of them there was a
dressed-up manikin hung with bells, on which little children were given
lessons in stealing. If they picked the manikin's pockets without
ringing the bells they were rewarded: but if a bell tinkled they were
beaten. Happily this street and many others like it were swept away by
the great new thoroughfare, Victoria street, and its branches; and noble
men and women are working day and night to civilize and christianize the
slums which lie to the south of the Abbey. But it will be many a year
before that Augean stable is cleaned out, which originated with those
who "took Westminster."

[Illustration]

Only twice was Sanctuary broken at Westminster. On August 11, 1378, two
knights named Hawle and Shackle, escaped from the Tower of London where
they had been imprisoned by John of Gaunt, and fled to the Abbey. For
greater security they took refuge in the Choir itself, during the
celebration of High Mass. Alan Boxall, constable of the Tower, and Sir
Ralph Ferrers with fifty armed men were close behind them, and burst in
upon the service "regardless of time or place." Shackle escaped. But
Hawle, chased round and round the Choir, at last fell dead in front of
the Prior's Stall, pierced with twelve wounds. His servant and one of
the monks wh