He who refused to confess and abjure was not driven forth, but if, after much spiritual admonition, he still refused to conform, he had neither meat nor drink given him, and so was ended, if not mended. A man unjustly deprived of sanctuary could plead the right before his judges. It was a declinatory plea, and must be urged before he answered as to his guilt or innocence; it availed him nothing to do so after, for he was strung up forthwith. This system, however harsh, had two very plain advantages. It was a short and easy method with a rascal, and it powerfully made for scientific accuracy in pleading. If a fugitive were caught and condemned ere he "took Westminster," as the town phrase ran, it was no advantage for him to escape on the way to execution, inasmuch as he was promptly haled forth to the gallows. A curious case in the eighth of Edward II. perplexed the ancient student. A woman was condemned to death, but a jury of matrons had no doubt as to her condition, and she was reprieved. She escaped to sanctuary before the arrival of the hangman's cart, and when the gaoler dragged her out, the judges bade him put her back again, whereat the learned shook their heads, opining that hard cases make bad law, and the jade should have swung like other folk. On the whole the privilege was strictly respected. For instance, the King's justices were wont to hold session in St Martin's Gate. They sat on the very border. The accused were placed on the other side of the street; a channel ran between them and their judges, and if they once got across _that_ they claimed sanctuary, and all proceedings against them were annulled. And one sees the reason why Perkin Warbeck took such care "to squint one eye upon the crown and the other on the Sanctuary" (as Bacon curiously phrases it); yet the great case of Beckett is there to show that nothing was absolutely sacred in these violent years. Nor does it stand alone. In 1191, Jeffrey, Archbishop of York, and son of Henry II., was seized at the altar of St Martin's Priory, Dover; and dragged, episcopal robes and all, through dirty streets to the Castle: this, too, by order of William Longchamp, Bishop of Ely, and Papal Legate. In 1378, Archbishop Sudbury complained in Parliament that one Robert Hawley had been slain at the high altar even while the priest was saying a mass. It was rumoured indeed that one Thurstian, a Knight, chasing a sanctuary man with drawn sword, was of a sudden stricken with grievous ailments. But this and other like stories did not deter the citizens of London (_circa_ 1349) from assembling at supper time in a great crowd, and dragging forth a soldier who had escaped on the way from Newgate to Guildhall, where he was being taken for trial. In another case (_temp._ Henry VI.), where a youth had taken sanctuary after having foully slain a kind mistress, the good women about St Martin's broke in and despatched him with their distaffs. Of