Tag Archives: bigamy

The grim tale of a Lincolnshire tailor: sin and crime in a medieval gaol delivery roll

Well, this one’s very nasty (be warned – violence, and abusive sexual behaviour), but also interesting from a legal history point of view, so worthy of a quick note.

It’s in the gaol delivery roll for a session at Lincoln castle on 1st August, 1392, which contains a series of allegations against Robert de Spalding, tailor, living in Horbling.[i] Sadly, the roll has a big chunk missing from the right hand side, but there is still enough to reconstruct the charges.

In July 1391, Robert had been arrested for homicide, in relation to a newborn (and unbaptised) child, in a house in Horbling. That in itself is pretty horrible, but there was more. The entry notes that Robert had two (apparently living) wives, the first somewhere in Holland (Lincs, not Netherlands) and the second at Folkingham (also Lincs), but even so, on a Sunday in November 1390, he had taken his biological daughter Agnes, shut all of the windows and doors and raped her [the entry on the roll mentions force and the fact that this was conttrary to Agnes’s will]. It goes on to say that he  continued in this sin [it’s definitely singular] with the result that Agnes became pregnant. When the time came for the baby to be born, on Wednesday 28th June, 1391, in a house at Horbling, Robert shut all the windows and doors again, and drew his knife on the prostrate Agnes, swearing by the body of Christ that if she made any noise, he would kill her (so that nobody would learn of his misconduct). In this way, Agnes gave birth to the ‘creature’ which on that day, Robert killed and buried at the same house.

Robert was found ‘guilty of the felonies’ with which he was charged, and was hanged.

Points of interest

It often seems to me that the most surprising and interesting material comes out of situations like this, when we are dealing with a bit of ‘freestyling’ on the part of those who drew up the accusations. There is a fair bit here which goes beyond what was legally necessary – if we strip it all down, all that was needed for a capital trial in this case was the allegation that Robert had killed the baby, or a charge that he had raped Agnes (though, if you’ve spent any time with medieval records, you’ll know that that does not tend to end with a conviction). The rest of it – the two wives, the incest, the swearing and the threats – was not really needed. For some reason, though, those drawing up the indictment, and the clerk recording the session, decided to give us the whole story, granting us unusual access to the thoughts of medieval laymen. We see disapproval of bigamy and incest – and despite the fact that there seems to have been continuing sexual activity, only Robert, and not Agnes, is blamed for it (I don’t think that would have been the case in non-incest situations, and it is rather at odds with other statements in common law sources in which pregnancy was said to be impossible without the woman’s consent/pleasure).

Although the bigamy and incest were not strictly the felonies which ended up ending Robert, it is interesting that they were brought up. Each year, rather glibly perhaps, in the part of the Legal History unit dealing with sexual offences, I tell my students that bigamy and incest weren’t within the scope of the medieval common law: they were left to the church. It looks as if medieval people did not always make that neat jurisdictional distinction. Certainly something to think about.

From a human point of view, I do hope that things improved for Agnes after this – but rather fear that she would have been left in a poor position. She did not even get Robert’s property, for his chattels (1 mark) were forfeit, as was usual after a felony conviction.




Picture: Lincoln Castle, Lincoln © Dave Hitchborne cc-by-sa/2.0 :: Geograph Britain and Ireland

[i] JUST 3/177 m. 83 (AALT IMG 179) which you can see at AALT Page (uh.edu)

A Bad Man called Bonehomme? Crime and non-punishment (?) in medieval Yorkshire

This snippet from the 1360s has some interesting sub-snippets relating to crime, (non-) punishment, marriage, women and pardons. (Great build-up, I know, but stick with it…)

The patent rolls for May 1364 contain a pardon for one Master Hugh Bonehomme of Bugthorpe (Yorks). The Rex roll of the King’s Bench for Trinity term 1364 shows that Hugh had been indicted (under slightly different versions of his name) on some serious charges – the homicide of Gilbert son of John Grayve of Bugthorpe, and the ravishment/abduction (raptus) of Agnes, daughter of John Gyles of York, as well as allegedly having committed a currency export offence, and having challenged another man to a duel, or perhaps attacked him (there is mention of a shield and lance).[i]

The homicide is interesting in that the KB entry has a variety of different charges, with different variations of the alleged victim’s name – at first sight, it seemed to be suggesting that Hugh was something of a serial killer, but there seems to be some repetition. Otherwise there is nothing noteworthy in it. It is the abduction of Agnes which is my focus It was alleged that Hugh had acted with others in this, that it had happened in Lent 1362, at York, and that the abduction had been part of a dastardly plan. The offenders had used coercion and threats to make Agnes consent to marry a man called Simon Porter. Forced marriage is not unknown in this period (I have at least one example in Women in the Medieval Common Law (c.6), and it was enough of a perceived problem, at least in so far as it concerned well-off women, that there was specific legislation on the matter in the fifteenth century (which I considered somewhat in Imprisoning Medieval Women). This was not just any forced marriage, however, it was, allegedly, a forced invalid marriage – since Agnes already had a husband: Thomas Gillyng. Thomas was allegedly down some goods as well as a wife, because the entry and the pardon on the patent roll both note that Hugh and his associates removed some of Thomas’s chattels.[ii]

In the case of Agnes, there is, for once, no suggestion of ‘not unwillingness’ or complicity with regard to the leaving of her husband. In the plea roll, we have the allegation that the offenders took, ravished and abducted her with force and arms, and then used compulsion and threats: per cohercionem et minas, they made her consent (consentire) to contract an unjust marriage (matrimonium iniustuminiustum because of ‘the other husband’, presumably).[iii] I think it is very much worth noting that ‘consent’ here is used to mean something far from free, far from voluntary. It should be a further warning against assuming we know what these words apparently denoting an exercise of free will mean, when we see them used in shorter, less contextualised, entries.

I have not come across quite such an outrageous forced ‘marriage’ before – and it will be interesting to see whether there is any further information to be had from the perspective of the Church – did any sort of matrimonial proceedings follow, to ensure that the position was clear? Did she get back to her real husband, or did he die too soon? Did she actually end up with (apparently) dodgy Simon?

Following the case through to its bitter end at common law, though, surprise, surprise, there are no serious consequences for Hugh. Clearly a man with influential friends, his pardon is said to have been granted after requests by  John II of France (d. April 1364) and by certain cardinals. He was a man of some learning – called ‘Master’ (sometimes), and the Plea Roll describes him as a proctor/procurator. He had, perhaps, endeared himself to the hostage king in this capacity. The pardon – again, surprise, surprise – has absolutely nothing to say about Agnes. Jurisdictional responsibilities would, of course, dictate that the (in)validity of her marriage to Simon was something for the Church to sort out, if there was a dispute about it. Nevertheless, the entries on the patent roll and plea roll relating to Hugh and Agnes do underline the gendered nature of the concerns of common law, and its exercise.

GS 18/3/2021

[i] CPR Edw III 1361-4, 515; KB 27/415 m. 35d (IMG 455)

[ii] He is described as having been her husband ‘then’ – so possibly he also lost his life after these events.

[iii] Roman law has much to say about matrimonium iniustum, but I think the intention here is simply to call it against the rules, because of the existence of a husband.