An old milestone stands where the stalk has been. Dr Raine (_St Cuthbert_) states that documents in the Treasury refer to an earlier Nevill's Cross in the same place; but he gives no references." Six and a half miles south of Durham, in the modern village of Ferry Hill, is the fragment of an old stone cross, named Cleve's Cross. This monument, according to tradition, commemorates the valour of one, Roger de Ferry, who slew a monster wild boar, which had been the terror of the whole countryside. At Wigan, Lancashire, are the rude remains of an ancient stone cross, concerning which the following tradition is told. While Sir William Bradshaigh was engaged in the holy wars or in travelling overseas, his wife Mabel, weary of waiting for his return, bigamously married a Welsh knight. After an absence of ten years, however, Sir William came home again and, notwithstanding his pilgrim's habit, was recognised by his wife. Whereupon the Welsh knight fled from the outraged husband, who pursued, and, overtaking, slew him. Dame Mabel's confessor enjoined her to walk barefoot once every week for the rest of her life to do penance at a certain cross on the outskirts of Wigan. The cross is the same which is situated at the end of Standishgate, and has borne the significant name of "Mab's Cross" from the fourteenth century to this day. The romantic story was used by Sir Walter Scott as the basis of his novel, _The Betrothed_. This tradition of employing crosses as places of public penance survives in the shape of the old-fashioned stocks situated at the foot of village and market crosses (Fig. 6). Of Banbury Cross, Oxfordshire, immortalised in nursery rhyme, it is much to be regretted that no vestige remains. John Leland, between about 1535 and 1545, writes in his _Itinerary_: "At the west part of the street," which runs east and west through the town, "is a large area, having a goodly cross with many degrees (steps) about it. In this area is kept every Thursday a very celebrate market." As the churchyard or village cross was the centre of the life of the smaller community, so also the market cross became the centre of the municipal life of towns and boroughs. Thus, it was the custom, at the close of the civic year, for the mayor and electors, being summoned by the blowing of a horn, to assemble at the churchyard cross at Folkestone, and at the market cross (now but a gaunt obelisk) at Ripon, for the election of a mayor for the ensuing year of office.