Butchery: A Mystery of Tudor London

Butchery: A mystery of Tudor London

  by Kenneth Browning

  It is 1550: a time of divisive political, economic, and religious innovation throughout England. Although the City of London is burdened with overpopulation, poverty, and crime, so far its watch and constables have managed to keep the peace. However, when the body of an unidentified man is discovered in the butcher's district, brutally murdered with a meat cleaver, tension between the City's butchers and its rising immigrant population threatens to escalate into violence.

  Under pressure from sheriff Sir John York to find the murderer and restore order, parish constable George Harwood enlists his friend, soldier-turned-innkeeper Thomas Whyte, into the investigation. Unwittingly, he also involves Katherine Whyte, Thomas's strong-minded and capable cousin. The three unlikely detectives follow a trail of suspicious deaths, from the affluent mansions of Walbrook to the slums of Fenchurch Street. But are they connected? What part do York's own shadowy dealings play in the drama? Is there a political dimension to the deaths, or are they just the result of the random casual violence that typifies City life?

  As the investigation proceeds, Whyte finds himself increasingly drawn into the unfolding series of events, making powerful enemies, and putting his own life and Katherine's in jeopardy.

  Copyright 2015 Kenneth Browning, all rights reserved

  Cover design by the author

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Please do not re-sell it, or give it away to other people. If you are reading this book and you did not purchase it, please buy your own copy: it is not expensive. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

  Contents

  Author's note

  Introduction

  Map

  Characters

  Part 1: A mystery and a sign

  Part 2: Shank and shin

  Part 3: The tavern of despair

  About the author

  Author's note

  This is a story. Although I have tried to be reasonably faithful to historical events and customs -- bizarre as they sometimes seem to us -- I have put the demands of fiction first. My characters speak in our contemporary language, more or less, because I assume that readers will not be well-versed in 16th century vernacular. I have allowed more variety in names -- particularly men's names -- than probably existed at the time: it's difficult to follow a plot if all the men are called Thomas or Henry.

  For clarity I have unashamedly used a number of anachronistic terms. For example there were, in the mid-16th century, religious movements broadly corresponding to those we now call Protestant and Catholic, but these specific terms were not in widespread use at the time. I have made simplifications where necessary, since this isn't a textbook on political history. In particular, I have simplified the complex administrative structure of the City, with its rival and overlapping jurisdictions, in ways that would most likely set a historian's teeth on edge.

  Criminal justice was usually a rather private affair in Tudor times: individuals were expected to prosecute crimes against themselves and their families. Wrongdoers were pursued -- when they were pursued at all -- by the victim's household and neighbours. The authorities typically only became involved in crimes against the person if there was a political dimension, or if there was a risk of a breakdown of law and order. That this DIY approach to policing should continue to dominate criminal justice, even as London expanded into one of the most populous and influential cities in Europe, seems strange to us now; but by the Tudor era people had lived with the system for a millennium. It could be effective: there is a growing body of evidence that the volunteer watch and constables were not as incompetent and bucolic as Shakespeare would have us believe.

  Not only was Tudor law enforcement very different from its modern counterpart, but so was the law itself. The notion of 'benefit of clergy,' which features in this story, now seems bizarre; but it really was (ab)used as I describe it. Playwright Ben Jonson -- certainly no clergyman -- notoriously used it in 1592 to escape a manslaughter charge. People really could be hanged for what we would consider petty theft, but we have to bear in mind that times were hard, and a shilling might be all that stood between a family and starvation.

  For the record I should point out that Tudor Londoners really did swear by “God's teeth”, drink ale like water (actually, instead of water), keep pigs in their yards, eat far more meat than was good for them, and discuss the fine points of religious doctrine as freely as we discuss the weather. They really did rise at between five and six o'clock; many people were, in principle, compelled by law to do so, although everybody's day was set by the Sun, not the clock. The everyday language was earthy, even crude, by modern standards, but not as jarring to our sensibilities as the language of Chaucer's time. Contrary to popular belief, Gropecunt Lane (off Cheapside) was not renamed by prudish Victorians -- the name change took place in the early 1600s.

  Most of the streets, churches, and other named locations in this story are real places that existed in the 16th century -- many still do. Some names have changed, and a few streets have been built over. St Margaret's church was destroyed in the Great Fire and never rebuilt. The Street in which it stood -- New Fish Street, or Fish Street Hill as it is now called -- lost its importance when the medieval London Bridge was demolished in 1831. It is now hard to imagine the street -- which no longer even affords a view of the Thames -- as the heart of the London fishing industry, as it was in Tudor times. The Poultry Compter was demolished in 1817, and a Congregational chapel built on its site. Moor Field -- the site of the archery butts -- has long since been built over; the last vestige of the original green space is the garden of St Botolphs-without-Bishopsgate. The street of Walbrook still exists, of course, but is now a commercial district. The Estate of Suffolk Place was gradually split up into many smaller streets and tenements, and acquired a sinister reputation in the 19th century. All that remains of its grand gardens and orchards is Little Dorrit Park -- a handful of trees and a playground. The Mint in Suffolk Place probably stood near what is now Marshalsea Road -- there is still a Mint Street in the area.

  By contrast, the Guildhall is still standing -- the same building on the same site -- and is still an important administrative and ceremonial centre.

  Some of the minor characters in this story are historical and, where they are, and sufficient information exists to make it possible, I have tried to portray them true to life. The main characters, however, are entirely fictional. Needless to say, any resemblance to any living person is entirely unintentional.

  Introduction

  It is 1550: third year of the reign of the Young King Edward VI. The military ambitions of his father, Henry VIII, have left the country indebted and heavily taxed. There is widespread poverty, particularly in rural areas, and the enclosure of common farm land by wealthy landowners has caused dissatisfaction and, occasionally, overt rebellion.

  With the King only 12 years old, the real power in the Kingdom is the Regency Council, led originally by the king's uncle, Edward Seymour, Duke of Somerset, and now by John Dudley, Earl of Warwick. Although political opponents, both Somerset and Warwick have a vision of a Protestant England, with a state church led by the Crown. With the support of Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury, these Royal Protectors have made English the language of the Church, and instigated the widespread abolition of the trappings of Catholicism. This religious innovation is unquestionably a cause of division in the country. Many people -- particularly in urban areas -- have embraced the religious reforms wholeheartedly, and there has been widespread iconoclasm, and the persecution of traditionalists. Catholic religious practices have been driven underground -- lit
erally, in some cases. Elsewhere, particularly in the West Country and North of England, the reforms have been deeply unpopular.

  People are moving to London at an unprecedented rate -- in the past year twenty thousand people have joined the fifty thousand original inhabitants. Within the ancient walls of the City, governed by the semi-autonomous City of London Corporation, there is unemployment, overcrowding, and a great deal of petty crime. Tensions are high, particularly between native Londoners and immigrants from the country; it is a tribute to the volunteer watch and constabulary, more than to the good governance of the City authorities, that disorder and rioting are infrequent.

  But things could easily change.

  Map

  Characters

  At the White Hart

  Thomas Whyte

  Keeper and half-owner of the Whyte Hart inn; one-time constable of St Peter's parish in Cornhill Ward

  Katherine Whyte

  An orphan; younger cousin and ward of Thomas Whyte; half-owner of the Whyte Hart inn

  Agnes Shawe

  Cook and general hand at the Whyte Hart; wife of Walter

  Walter 'Gaffer' Shawe

  Cellarman and general hand at the Whyte Hart; husband of Agnes

  Mary Strope

  A maid at the Whyte Hart

  Various other serving kitchen and chamber maids

  The Harwood household

  George Harwood

  A cordwainer (fine boot-maker); constable of St Margaret's parish in Bridge Ward

  Mary Harwood

  Wife of George

  Emma and Grace Harwood

  Daughters of George and Mary

  Bob Marten

  George's delivery boy and dogsbody

  Apprentices and journeymen

  Forces of law and order

  Sir John York

  A sheriff of London; officer of the King's Mint

  Richard Turke

  A sheriff of London

  Tobias Savill

  Newly-elected constable of St Peter's parish

  Stephen Caldwell

  Beadle of Walbrook Ward

  Nicholas Cotton

  Warder of the Sheriff's Compter (gaol) in Poultry

  Diverse watchmen, militiamen, and guards

  Men of the cloth

  Reynold Beresford

  Vicar of the parish church of St Margaret's

  Christopher Grey

  Vicar Beresford's curate

  Dr Giles Meredith

  Rector of the parish Church of St Stephen's, Walbrook

  Tradesmen

  Joseph 'Candle Joe' Nash

  A chandler (candle maker)

  Giles Harris

  Nash's journeyman assistant

  Bartholomew Maycott

  An apothecary

  Innkeepers

  Henry and Joan Warter

  Keepers of the Mermaid alehouse

  Geoffrey Sumner

  Keeper of the Black Eagle tavern; a widower

  Butchers

  Peter Abraham

  A master butcher; proprietor of the largest butchery in Eastcheap

  Thomas 'Big Tom' Francis

  A butcher; Abraham's foreman

  Roger Allard

  A butcher, when he can be bothered

  Jane Allard

  Roger's wife

  The Gerard Household

  Walter Gerard

  A well-to-do mercer of Walbrook

  Samuel Gerard

  Walter's eighteen-year-old son

  Gerard's wife and two younger brothers and their wives; a large staff of servants and retainers

  The Long Household

  Sir Richard Long

  A wealthy merchant of Walbrook, recently knighted

  Lady Isabel Long

  Richard's wife

  Peter Long

  Richard and Isabel's seventeen-year-old son

  Robert Greville

  William Holt

  Grooms (serving men) in the Long household

  Diverse other grooms and maids

  Entertainers

  Rowland Beauchamp

  Leader of Master Beauchamp's Players, a group of travelling actors and entertainers

  Edmund Jakely

  Fire-breather, juggler, actor

  Meg Swithin

  Musician and dancer

  Other actors, singers, musicians, dancers, and hangers-on

  Miscellaneous

  Joyce Baker

  A midwife

  Meg Garret and Maggie Soames

  Neighbours of the Allards

  Thomas Greene

  Sexton of St Margaret's parish

  Simon Head

  A vestryman (churchwarden) of St Margaret's

  William Warter

  A tanner; Henry Warter's younger brother