that Longbeard’s enemies had against him a case which it was necessary to strengthen by baseless accusations. He was charged with blaspheming the Virgin Mary, and with taking his concubine into Bow Church. The last charge seems disproved by the circumstances in which Longbeard fled to the church for refuge. It was also set about that he was put to death for ‘heresy and cursed doctrine’ whereas it is obvious that his offence was political. Be this as it may, his enemies triumphed; Longbeard was drawn and hanged with nine of his fellows. But ‘the simple people honoured him as a Martyre, insomuch that they steale away the gibbet whereon he was hanged, & pared away the earth, that was be-bled with his blood, and kept the same as holy reliques to heale si eke men’. Hubert, the archbishop, drove them away. But two years later the monks of Canterbury presented to the Pope charges against Hubert. The first is that he had violated the peace of the Church of Bow by forcing out Longbeard and his fellows. The Pope advised Richard to remove Hubert from the office of justiciar, and not to employ churchmen in secular offices. Hubert resisted for a while, but in the end accepted his dismissal. Stow, in his Survey says that Longbeard was hanged at ‘the Elms in Smithfield’, but there is no authority for this. We find mention of an execution of a date earlier than that of Longbeard, taking place at London, for a crime of which the royal court would necessarily have cognisance, it is at least highly probable that Tyburn, though not expressly mentioned, was the place of execution. The crime of 1177 is one of those few social crimes, as distinguished from political offences, of which the chroniclers make mention; the story reveals a strange picture of the manners of the time. During a council held at London the brother of the Earl Ferrers was murdered in his inn, the body being afterwards thrown into the mud of the street. When the king heard of this he was greatly moved, and swore that he would visit the crime heavily upon the citizens of London. For it was said that a hundred and more of the sons and relatives of the nobles of the City were in the habit of breaking into the houses of wealthy men for the purpose of robbery. And if they found any one going by night about the streets they forthwith murdered him without pity, so that for fear of them few dared to go about the City by night. So it came about that in the third year before this, the sons and nephews of certain nobles of the City, meeting together by night, for the sake of plunder broke into the stone house of a certain rich man of London, using iron wedges for the purpose of making an opening, by which they entered. But the head of the house had been warned beforehand of their intent, wherefore he put on a leather cuirass, and had with him several nobles and trusty servants also protected by armour, sitting with him in a corner of the house. And when he saw one of those thieves, by name Andrew Bucquinte, pressing on in front of the others with glowing face, he brought forward a pot full of live coals, and hurriedly kindled some wax tapers which he carried in his hand, and rushed upon him. Which beholding, the said Andrew Bucquinte drew his knife from its sheath and struck the master of the house; but he failed to wound him because the blow fell upon the cuirass. And the master of the house quickly drawing his sword from its sheath, returned the blow, and lopped off the right hand of the said Andrew Bucquinte, crying with a loud voice, ‘Thieves, thieves!’ and hearing this all fled except him who had lost his hand, he being held by the master of the house. And when day broke he took him to Richard de Lucy, the king’s justice, who threw him into prison. And the thief, on promise of life and limb, gave up the names of his companions, many of whom were taken, though many also escaped. Among those taken was a certain very noble and very rich citizen of London, by name John