Senex, who being unable to clear himself by the ordeal of water, offered to the king five hundred marks of silver for his life. But as he was condemned by the ordeal of water, the king refused to accept the money, and ordered that judgment should be done upon him, and he was hanged.
1221 In this year Constantine Fitz-Athulf was hanged, and that without trial. The story of the execution without trial of one who had been sheriff of the great and powerful City compels attention. It is thus told by the chroniclers, the date assigned being 1222 or 1223: In this year, on the feast of St James the Apostle, 9 the inhabitants of London and those of the neighbouring country, having challenged one another to a wrestling match, met near the hospital of Queen Matilda, outside the City [ St Katherine’s Hospital, near the Tower. St Katherine’s Marina now stands on the site ] to decide who were the stronger in this sport. The contest was long, and after great efforts on both sides, the citizens of London had the best of the contest, to the chagrin of their adversaries. He who took the defeat most to heart was the seneschal of the abbat of Westminster, who devised means to avenge the defeat of his party. Having formed in his mind a plan of vengeance, he issued a fresh challenge for the feast of St Peter’s Chains [1 August], and sent word for everyone to come to Westminster to wrestle, promising a ram as a prize. That being done the said seneschal got together strong and practised wrestlers, so that the victory might be thus gained. The citizens of London, wishing to distinguish themselves a second time, came in great numbers to the appointed place. The contest began, those on one side and the other trying to throw their opponents to the ground, but the seneschal of whom mention has been made, having brought up people from the neighbourhood and from the country, turned the contest into a fight which would satisfy his revenge. He took up arms without provocation and furiously charged, not without bloodshed, the unarmed citizens. The citizens, wounded and insulted, fled in disorder to the City. There ensued a great tumult: the common bell was rung and brought the people together. The story went about, every one gave his opinion, and proposed his plan of revenge. At last the Mayor, Serle, a man prudent and peaceful, advised that complaint should be made to the abbat of Westminster, and said that if he would consent to make suitable reparation, every one should then be satisfied. But Constantine, who had great power in the City, declared amid great applause that it would be better to throw down all the houses belonging to the abbat of Westminster, as well as the seneschal’s house. Forthwith an order was drawn up, enjoining the immediate execution of Constantine’s project. A blind multitude, a mad populace, entrusted Constantine with this civil war, flung itself in a tumult on the possessions of the abbat, demolished several houses, and did great damage. In the midst of this scene was Constantine, continually reciting the order, and crying with all his might, ‘Montjoie! Montjoi! God and our lord Louis be our help!’ This cry, more than anything else, provoked the king’s friends, and made them determine to exact punishment for this sedition, as we will now tell. The facts soon got about, and came to the ear of Hubert de Burgh, the justiciar, who, having got together a number of knights, put himself at their head and went to the Tower of London, from which he sent a message to the elders to come to him without delay. When they were before him he asked who were the principal movers in the sedition; who were they who had dared to trouble the royal city, and break the king’s peace? Then Constantine, constant in his presumption and pride, answered otherwise than was either becoming or prudent. ‘It is I,’ he said, ‘what wilt thou?’ He declared that he was protected by treaty, that he could justify what he had done, which was even