A favourite story of the Middle Ages is that of the unjust judge, Sisamnes, flayed alive by order of Cambyses. This punishment is one not likely to have been overlooked. In the “Laws of Henry I.” (so called), we find scalping and flaying mentioned as punishments (comacio and excoriacio[33]). It is certain that the punishment was not absent from men’s minds. In 1176, the secretary of the young king was discovered to be in correspondence with Henry II. He was thought worthy of death; some proposed that he should be hanged, others that he should be flayed alive (vivum excoriari[34]). I have not found a written record of execution in England by flaying alive, but there exists singular and terrible indirect evidence of the infliction of the punishment in a very remarkable case. In 1303 was successfully carried out a burglary which after six centuries remains the greatest burglary on record, the amount involved being £100,000, equal to £2,000,000 in money of the present day. The palace of the king at Westminster was contiguous to the abbey. In the King’s treasury were lodged at the time in question not only the regalia, but a large sum of money destined to the carrying on of the war in Scotland. Edward I. left Westminster on March 14th and travelled towards Scotland, reaching Newcastle on May 6th. Shortly before this date the treasury was broken into and its treasure carried off. The robbery being discovered, forty-one friars and thirty-four monks were committed to the Tower. The burglary had been skilfully planned. Early in the spring the cemetery—the plot enclosed by the cloisters—was sown with hemp, so that the hemp should grow high enough by the time fixed for the robbery to hide the treasure. Mr. Joseph Burtt, who has told the story at length, came to the conclusion that “the affair was evidently got up between William, the sacrist of Westminster, Richard de Podlicote, a merchant, and the keeper of the palace, with the aid of their immediate servants and friends.”[35] Ten monks and one cleric were arraigned, but, refusing to be tried by secular judges, were remanded to the Tower. But the judges “condemned the sacrist of Westminster for receiving and concealing jewels of our lord the king.” Strangely enough, there is no record of his sentence.[36] But certain doors giving access to the treasury were found to be covered, inside and outside, with skin. Sir Gilbert Scott submitted a piece to an eminent microscopist, Mr. Quekett, who pronounced it to be human skin. There has been vague talk of “the skins of Danes” in connection with the lining of these doors, but Dean Stanley, who says that the skin is that of “a fair-haired, ruddy-complexioned man,” is of opinion that there is no period to which these fragments of skin can be so naturally referred as to that of the burglary.[37] Here is the record of a punishment, the only one of its kind I have found recorded:—