“The vi day of December the abbot of Westminster went a procession with his convent; before him went all the sanctuary men with crosse keys upon their garments, and after whent iij for murder: one was the Lord Dacre’s sone of the Northe was wypyd with a shett abowt him for Kyllyng of on master West, sqwyre, dwellyng besyd ...; and anodur theyff that dyd long to one of master comtroller ... dyd kylle Recherd Eggyllston the comtroller’s tayller, and killed him in the Lord Acurs, the bak-syd Charyng-crosse; and a boy that kyld a byge boye that sold papers and pryntyd bokes, with horlyng of a stone and yt hym under the ere in Westmynster Hall; the boy was one of the chylderyn that was at the sckoll ther in the abbey; the boy was a hossear [hosier] sune a-boyff London-stone.” (_Diary of Henry Machyn_, p. 121.) The good old institution of Sanctuary died hard. Even after it was supposed to have been finished and put away it continued to linger. Abbot Feckenham made a vigorous appeal for its preservation. “All princes,” he said, “and all Lawmakers, Solon in Athens, Lycurgus in Lacedemon, all have had _loca refugii_, places of succour and safe-guard for such as have transgressed laws and deserved corporal pains. Since, therefore, ye mean not to destroy all sanctuaries, and if your purpose be to maintain any, or if any be worthy to be continued, Westminster, of all others, is most worthy, and that for four causes: the first is, the antiquity and continuance of sanctuary there; the second, the dignity of the person by whom it was ordained; the third, the worthiness of the place itself; the fourth, the profit and commodity that you have received thereby.” It is a common charge against the Dissolution of the Religious Houses that the old custom of open tables for all comers fell into disuse. The disuse is not without exceptions. The Houses being suppressed, of course the hospitality disappeared; but the practice was still kept up by some of the Bishops: Archbishop Parker, for instance, fed every day a number of poor people who waited outside the gates of Lambeth for the broken meats; while any one who chose to come in, whether at dinner or at supper, was received and entertained either at the Steward’s or the Almoner’s table. Order was observed; no loud talking was permitted; and the discourse was directed towards framing men’s manners to Religion. Whether the practice of indiscriminate doles should have been kept up is another question, and one that cannot be asked of the sixteenth century. The state and dignity maintained by this Archbishop were almost worthy of Cardinal Wolsey: the Queen gave him a patent for forty retainers, but his household consisted of five times that number, all living with him and dining at his table in Lambeth Palace.