31. A Fortress Town

Drive into Hull today and the city creeps up on you, the number of buildings slowly increasing from an isolated few to a constant line of houses, storage units and factories.  It’s easy to miss the precise point when you enter Hull itself, unless you specifically scan the roadside for a welcome sign.  Arriving at Hull 600 years ago was a rather different experience; then entering the town was a very definite step.

Travelling into Hull back then, the first sight of the town was a high brick wall visible on the horizon.  As you got closer you could make out the watchtowers dotted along its length.  Finally as you came beneath the wall’s shadowy gloom, you saw the moat running in front of it and across the road itself an imposing fortified gateway.  Hopefully you arrived during daylight, as if not you would have a long wait as the gates would not open again until dawn.

There were four such gateways guarding the entrances into Hull.  Beverley Gate was the most imposing, a grand structure with a fortified entrance way, called a barbican, plus an inner gate for extra security.  There was also North Gate near the ferry over the river Hull; Hessle Gate by the bank of the Humber; and Myton Gate, the site now marked by a roundabout.  If the country was at peace and the security threat low, there was also the option to use one of several postern gates.  Designed for those on foot, these were just wide enough to allow one or two people to squeeze through and could easily be blocked up in times of danger. 

Building such defences did not come cheap.  When in 1423 a new postern gate was added, ten thousand bricks were used during its construction.  Then there was the regular maintenance.  Particularly in the middle of the 15th Century, it would have been most unwise to skimp on this for Henry VI was not making a good job of being king.  In 1449 Parliament impeached his chief minister William de la Pole for financial mismanagement and, fearing that the resulting quarrel would turn violent, towns across the country put security measures in place.

Hull had cause to be particularly fearful given the link that the de la Pole family had with the town.  Although William had his main home elsewhere, he remained a major local landowner. Consequently Hull’s aldermen decided that eighteen guards should be placed on watch every night.  Each town ward was ordered to provide a constable plus two men to remain on duty on between 9pm and 4am.  In the end these precautions were not tested as once William was off the scene things settled down for Henry but the incident was a sign of unrest to come.

Photos: Top, bricks showing the former location of a postern gate in Hull; Bottom, surviving postern gate in York.

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30. The Luck of the de la Poles

In Hull’s Charterhouse hospital there stood two statues, one of William de la Pole, 1^st Duke of Suffolk, and one of Alice his wife.  Each held a jug in one hand and a plate in the other.  Everyday two of the hospital’s residents were brought before these likenesses to receive food and drink paid for using money left by William and Alice.  Looking into the two stony faces, the residents got a powerful reminder of their own duty to pray for their deceased benefactors to help their souls into heaven.  And after William’s turbulent life, his soul in particular was probably in need of help.

In 1415 when William was just nineteen he, his father and brother had sailed to France, taking with them 40 men at arms and 120 mounted archers.  There they joined the ranks of king Henry V’s army.  First task for this gallant force was to lay siege to the port of Harfleur.  During this William himself was invalided home and his father Michael, 2nd Earl of Suffolk, died of dysentery.  Only his elder brother Michael journeyed with their king to meet the French near Agincourt castle. The resulting battle saw a happy band of English brothers vanquish a French force three times its size.  7000 French died and only 500 English, but one of these was Michael.

Despite the fact that his family seemed extremely unlucky in such matters, once recuperated William set off again for war, full of youthful bravado and proudly holding the title 4th Earl of Suffolk.  His battles included the siege of Orleans, during which he was captured by the forces of Joan of Arc and imprisoned till a ransom was paid.  Once back in England, tales of such adventures and an advantageous marriage increased his reputation with the young king Henry VI.  William was also astute enough to assist Henry with his pet projects, helping him establish Eton school and King’s College, Cambridge.  By 1448 he was the most influential man at the royal court and had been promoted to a duke.

Riding high, William should have heeded the warning offered by his grandfather, who had been impeached whilst serving Richard II.  Instead, either through incompetence or ill fortune, William too fell from grace.  The war with France was going badly and Parliament accused him of mismanaging funds, pointing out that the royal debt had increased from £14,800 in 1433 to £372,000 in 1450. William was sentenced to exile for five years but on his way abroad his boat was captured and he was murdered a traitor.  Alice later arranged for the Charterhouse statues to help give her husband some rest in the afterlife following such a violent end on earth.

Photo: Hull’s Charterhouse today

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29. The Charterhouse

Medieval people believed their world had been designed by God and he had given each person a specific role within it.  Some God called to the religious life, blessing them with holy insight and the strength to cope without earthly comforts.  Others were gifted with military strength and the bravery to confront death on the battlefield.  Many more were seemingly destined to a life of valiantly striving each day to keep poverty and destitution at bay.

God gave Michael de la Pole, 1st Earl of Suffolk: high status, military prowess and political nous. These brought financial advantages however also brought the Christian duty to use this wealth to support others.  For those serving God in the religious life, in 1377 Michael founded a Carthusian monastery just outside Hull’s North Gate.  A few years later he addressed his responsibility to those less fortunate.  Next to the monastery he established the ‘Hospital of St Michael, commonly called God’s House without the gates of Hull’, otherwise known by the snapper name of Charterhouse hospital. 

The hospital opened in 1384 and was run separately from the monastery itself, although it was still based on religious principles.  It was no coincidence that it housed 13 men and 13 women (the number of disciples plus Jesus himself).  It was not a hospital in the modern sense, rather a home for the elderly, the poor and those who were unable to work.  Since these were all situations that seldom led to peak fitness, many doubtless feel their health improve after having sufficient food to eat and a restful place to sleep. 

In return for food and shelter, the residents of the Charterhouse hospital were expected to pray for their benefactor and his family.  They were reminded of this duty each time they sat in the chapel, looking at the grave of Michael’s father, the merchant and moneylender William de la Pole.  Michael was later buried alongside him when he died in 1389.  Residents’ prayers were essential to these departed souls.  Only the most saintly were thought to go direct to heaven, and the de la Poles had been far too involved in the murky worlds of business and politics for that to be the case. 

Prayers were needed to lift them from where they were stuck in purgatory to eternal salvation in heaven.  And prayers from the poor residents of the Charterhouse were seen as particularly effective, for with their lack of worldly possessions they had certainly fulfilled Jesus' teaching ‘not to lay up for yourselves treasures on earth’.   For the residents themselves, such prayers were perhaps a small price to pay to receive welfare support that was available nowhere else.

Photo: Plaque displayed on the Charterhouse today commemorating the hospital’s foundation.

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28. Trials of Town Life

Across medieval England, from Lands End to the ever-shifting border with Scotland, there lived two million people.  Today that number would fit in Greater Manchester, leaving the rest of the country an uninhabited wasteland.  In the 15th Century though, even London could only muster 40,000 inhabitants while Hull had a population of just 3000.  Not only did all but a few of Hull’s inhabitants resided within the town walls, actually most lived on just a small number of streets leading off the Market Place.  Even back then location matter when it came to property and people were willing to sacrifice space in order to live in a desirable central location. 

With neighbours crammed together it wasn’t surprising that disagreements occurred.  In 1449 two merchants called John Forest and William Riplingham who lived on Vicar Lane fell out.  William had built an extension that caused extra water to run into John’s garden when it rained, while John’s own building works blocked the light into one of William’s rooms.  Luckily Laylandi weren’t to be bred for another four centuries or a peace might never have been reached.  Eventually the warring parties did call a truce and each agreed to put up with their existing inconveniences but hostilities would immediately resume should either man do any more home improvements without permission.

Cases of anti-social behaviour could also be found at the Sheriff’s Court where many cases sound rather familiar.  Fines were often handed out for fly tipping into the street and the river Hull.  There was industrial pollution, with tanners reprimanded for using the town’s dykes to soak their hides.  Butchers regularly obstructed other road users by tethering their horses outside their shops.  Innkeepers were monitored that they kept to specified opening hours and prevented unruly behaviour on their premises.  Wine couldn’t be sold at less then 12 pence a pint, however beer was seen as a staple part of the working man’s diet and like bread its price was regulated to keep it affordable.

Thicker than ales today, beer was seen as a safe and nutritious drink for the common man and an ideal source of energy to power him right through the working day.  After the Black Death as wages rose so did consumption of beer and by the 15th Century the average man was drinking at least 3 pints a day.  Hull’s medieval citizens weren’t miraculously immune to the effect of all this alcohol.  The doorway of the King’s Head Inn, now standing in the quiet and sedate Hull and East Riding Museum, would once have witnessed raised voices and tempers as well as supporting several persons feeling somewhat unsteady on their feet.

Photo: Lowgate/Market Place, Hull

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27. Waste and Water

Even on the brightest days, the narrow winding streets of medieval Hull offered plentiful shadows.  Pedestrians had to dodge tethered horses, stray pigs, and open sewers.  Anyone wandering down to the banks of that majestic river the Humber would struggle to appreciate the view with the rotting mess of the town’s rubbish dump at their feet.  It was all far from modern standards of cleanliness but the inhabitants of Hull were certainly not merrily wallowing in filth. 

In 1388 Parliament ordered local governments to keep streets in their area well maintained and free of rubbish and Hull’s ruling aldermen took this duty very seriously.  Each Saturday residents were expected to clean the section of road in front of their property and a rubbish cart was organised to go around town up to three times a week.  Although anything collected was then dumped by the Humber, at least there it was away from people’s homes and could be washed away by the tide.

The open sewers running down the middle of each street were not stagnant pools of muck but filled with running water flowing out into the Humber and were regularly cleaned to prevent blockages.  These sewers certainly didn’t add positively to the town’s ambience, but the alderman knew that for the lack of an alternative it was better then nothing. Care was taken that builders didn’t cut corners by not linking properties to the system.  In 1413 Richard Hanse was granted permission to build a courtyard of houses only if he connected them to the sewer network at his own expense.

Hull’s aldermen also concerned themselves with ensuring a supply of fresh, clean water.  By 1401 the two existing wells in Bishops Lane and Fleshmarket were insufficient for the town’s needs and shipping in additional water was too expensive.  The solution was a dyke 12ft wide and 5ft deep running all the way from Anlaby to Beverley Gate.  From here though the water still had to be physically carried across town to where most people lived down by the High Street.

By the 1440s however the aldermen had seemingly solved this problem by laying a system of lead conduits and pipes within the town walls.  Feeling justifiably proud of this achievement, a grand opening ceremony was held during which wine was sent through the pipes doubtless ensuring the party passed off in a suitably merry manner.  Sadly this visionary system was not without its teething problems so when in 1461 the town needed some ready cash, the decision was taken to dig up the pipes and sell off the valuable lead.

Picture: Close up from map by John Speede, circa 1610, showing the location of Hull’s freshwater dyke.

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