The robbery apparently began with a raid upon the Refectory, and was not at first intended to go any farther. The robber was one Richard de Podelicote, described as a merchant of some kind, formerly trading in the Low Countries. We must, of course, be careful not to suppose that a so-called “merchant” was necessarily a person with the dignity and authority of a Whittington. Richard de Podelicote was probably an unsuccessful trader in foreign wares, not a craftsman or a retailer, else he would have been so described. Richard, who said in his confession that he had lost the sum of £14 17s. in a lawsuit, was a broken man, desperate and cunning; he observed that the small gate in the wall which led from the Palace to the Abbey (at the door now by Poets’ Corner) was unwatched and neglected. At this time the King himself, with a great army, was on his way to Scotland; the Palace was therefore deserted. All the grooms, armorers, blacksmiths, pages, and men-at-arms were with the King. A crowd of servants followed with such gear as was wanted for the cooking, carrying provisions, wine, and all kinds of things. There were left in the Palace only the Queen and her people, the canons, vicars, singing men, and boys of St. Stephen’s; the women and the children; and some of the servants. The courts of the palace were therefore quiet and deserted; the strictness of the rules about closing and opening gates, and about watching those who entered or went out, was relaxed. This private way from the Palace to the Abbey was hardly ever used--perhaps it was well-nigh forgotten. The thief, therefore, would have no difficulty whatever, pretending to be a workman sent perhaps to repair the roof, in introducing by this postern a ladder into the Abbey precinct. Or indeed he might have entered boldly by any of the remaining four gates into the Abbey.