Candace ROBB - The Riddle of St Leonard’s

I wish to thank Lynne Drew and Evan Marshall for nursing me along in the writing of this book during a difficult year. Charles Robb for patient systems support; painstaking work on the map; careful, detailed photography of key sites; and questions that led me deeper into my research. Lynne, Evan, and Victoria Hipps for thorough and thoughtful edits.

I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Patricia H. Cullum for her extensive work on St Leonards Hospital, and her patience with my questions. Jeremy Goldberg, Joe Nigota, Carol Shenton, and the knowledgeable and generous members of Mediev-l, Chaucernet, and H-Albion for responding to my queries with facts and bibliographies. Any mistakes are my own.

Research for this book was conducted on location in York and at the University of Yorks Morrell Library, the British Library, and the libraries of the University of Washington, with additional critical materials from the York Archaeological Trust and my colleagues on the internet.

almoner: one of the canons, whose work was to give alms (food and drink) at the gate (at St Leonards, probably the Water Gate on Footless Lane), and also to go out of the house in order to visit the sick, infirm, blind and bed-ridden of the locality

ambergris: a fragrant waxy secretion of the intestinal tract of the sperm whale, often found floating in the sea, used in medicine for its aroma

Barnhous: the undercroft of St Leonards infirmary in which the children were housed

cellarer: the canon in charge of supplies of meats and victuals; at St Leonards he was often submaster

corrody: a pension or allowance provided by a religious house permitting the holder to retire into the house as a boarder; purchased for cash or by a donation of land or property

Gog and Magog: biblical reference; Gog and the land of Magog were the enemies of Israel; it was believed that the reign of the Antichrist would be heralded by the return of Gog and Magog

grammar school: a school in which the emphasis was on the Trivium (grammar, rhetoric and dialectic), or the analysis and use of language, preparing the student for university; St Leonards operated a grammar school

grandame: grandmother

houppelande: mens attire; a flowing gown, often floor-length and slit up to thigh level to ease walking, but sometimes knee-length; sleeves large and open

jongleur: a minstrel who sang, juggled and tumbled

Keeper of the Hanaper: head of the department within Chancery that received fees paid on charters and letters under the great seal, paid the wages of the Chancery staff and bought materials for the office, and accounted for the whole proceeds annually at the exchequer; also received payments of fines by recipients of chancery writs; called the hanaper because the documents waiting to be sealed were kept in a hamper (hanaper)

Lammas: first of August, when the Archbishop of York held an annual fair

lay sister: a woman who takes the habit and vows of a religious order, but is employed mostly in manual labour and is exempt from any studies or choir-duties

leman: mistress

manqualm: an Anglo-Saxon word for plague, pestilence

Martinmas: feast of St Martin, 11 November

mazer: a large wooden cup

messuage: a plot of land occupied by or intended for a dwelling house

Petercorn: income supporting St Leonards Hospital, dependent on the harvest (Peters corn)

prebend: the portion of the revenues of a cathedral or collegiate church granted to a canon or member of the chapter as his stipend

rood: cross

Queens Receiver: officer in the Queens household who gathered in revenue which he then disbursed at the Queens order in lump sum, paid over to her treasurer; Ravenser had power to act as the Queens attorney in any court in England

sext: noon

spital: early English word for hospital, later spitalhouse and hospital

staithe: wharf

strays: common grazing area

sweetwater: a medicinal bath of mallow and sweet-scented herbs

swine gall: exactly what it says; medieval medicine was not without its oddities

trencher: a thick slice of brown bread a few days old with a slight hollow in the centre, used as a platter

vespers: the sixth of the canonical hours, towards sunset

York, July 1369

The elderly man took tentative steps out of the door of the infirmary. He favoured his right leg for a few steps, then, when the shooting pains of the day before did not attack his efforts, he tried a bolder gait, letting his right leg swing out. He felt a twinge in the knee, but at his age a twinge was to be expected in any joint. Walter de Hotter crossed the yard from the infirmary to the East Gate once, back, twice, back, then continued out on to Blake Street. It was a happy journey. He was to sleep in his own bed that night. Not that the infirmary bed at St Leonards Hospital had been uncomfortable. Or unclean. Truth be told, it was cleaner than his own. But a mans bed is a special thing, and Walter looked forward to a night in his.

Each time Walter entered the hospital because of an injury he wondered whether he would return to his own bed. His days were numbered, he knew. Three-score and nine he was: a goodly age, a venerable age. And for a clumsy man prone to accidents, a quite remarkable age. It was fortunate that he had married well and improved the business left to him by his father, accumulated several valuable messuages in the city, more property than his children could claim a need for, and had promised the one in which he dwelt to St Leonards in return for a corrody. He had made this arrangement after his wife had died; while she had lived she had seen to his injuries, and a commendable job she had done. But without her, Walter had been uneasy. Who would soak his sprained ankles, smooth soothing unguents on his burns, wrap them? His fellows in the merchants guild had assured him they would see to him. And so they would have, for the guild took care of its own. But he did not want to be a burden. He was not feeble, merely clumsy. It was Tom Merchet, proprietor of the York Tavern, who had suggested the corrody. Walter would always be grateful to Tom for that. As a corrodian of St Leonards Hospital he was given his food, clothing and a bed should he need it which was the best part for him, for he needed a bed quite often. Not for long. Never for long. But he would break bones and twist ankles, wrists an elbow recently. The swollen knee had been the latest injury. And he had received all the care from St Leonards because, once he was dead, the hospital would have his property to lease and would make a nice sum. To Walter it seemed more than fair.

And he was still alive and ambulatory, praise God, and happy to be headed home. He was going to an empty house, which was not as he would have liked it, but it would not be so for long, God willing. His eldest son and heir to the business had taken his family to their small house in Easingwold, saying he was opening a shop there. Peter was fearful of pestilence, truth be told. And who could blame him? One Sunday, Walter had heard at Mass that a child had died of pestilence the night before, and by the following Sunday five had died within the city walls, one of them a fellow corrodian of St Leonards, poor old John Rudby. Walter did not begrudge his son such precautions. Nor, for his part, had Peter protested his fathers trading the townhouse on Blake Street for a corrody.