Susanna GREGORY: The Devil's Disciples

It is almost impossible to imagine the impact of the Black Death on the medieval world, but contemporary evidence suggests people reacted very differently to the threat of its return. Some clung even more firmly to the Church, and tried to live reformed lives. Others turned to more ancient gods to protect them, and it seems there was an increase in witchcraft and paganism. Gatherings are thought to have taken place in the churches that were abandoned after the plague-deaths of their congregations; one such chapel was All Saints-next-the-Castle. However, the distinction between magic and religion was still quite blurred in the 1350s, and many people would have been perfectly happy to go to church on Sunday and visit a witch on Monday.

The Bishop of Ely – the Dominican and papal favourite, Thomas de Lisle – was a complex and contradictory man. He was elected to his See in 1345, and almost immediately launched into a bitter feud with a merchant called Richard Spynk. Spynk plied his trade in Norwich although he owned property all across Norfolk and was one of its richest inhabitants. Spynk decided Norwich’s defensive walls needed refurbishing, and not only paid for much of the work, but gave a lot of his time to oversee the project, too. All was going well for Spynk until he met Ely’s new prelate.

De Lisle, along with a band of henchman that included his keeper of parks at Downham (Osbern le Hawker), is said to have besieged Spynk at his various properties ‘threatening [Spynk’s] life and threatening him with mutilation of his members and capture and incarceration of his body, so that for fear of death he dared not go out’. The relentless attack is said to have cost Spynk almost £1,000 in lost cattle and other goods, as well as damage to his houses and assaults on his staff.

This was not the only crime de Lisle was accused of committing. In the 1350s, he was charged with being complicit in at least sixteen charges of theft, extortion, receiving stolen goods, abduction, arson, cattle rustling, assault and eventually murder. One complainant was the King’s cousin, Blanche de Wake, and another was John Danyell, who claimed he was terrorised by de Lisle’s steward, John Brownsley. In the winter of 1356, alarmed by the evidence massing against him, de Lisle fled to the papal court in Avignon. He never returned to his native country and died in 1361.

Was such a high-ranking churchman guilty of these crimes? The consensus seems to be that he was unlikely to have soiled his own hands, but that the attacks might well have been carried out on his orders or with his tacit agreement. Money was scarce after the plague, and landowners were often ruthless in getting it where they could. In regard to the Spynk case, de Lisle argued that the cattle he took were in lieu of money he was owed. Spynk denied it, but the court found in favour of de Lisle anyway, and the matter was eventually forgotten – although probably not by Spynk. The later charges laid against de Lisle by the various other complainants probably left Spynk thinking, ‘I told you so.’