There was a master mason in 1326, who worked at Westminster and in various other places on His Majesty’s Service. This was William Ramsay, who also superintended the building then in progress at St. Paul’s, and was a man of such importance in his art, that the mayor and aldermen ordered that he should “not be placed on juries or inquests” during the time of his activity. He was also chief mason at the Tower. But in spite of the city fathers it was not possible to keep this worthy person out of court! For he and some of his friends, in 1332, practically kidnapped a youth of fourteen named Robert Huberd, took him forcibly from his appointed guardian, and married him out of hand to William Ramsay’s daughter Agnes, the reason for this step being evidently that the boy had money. Upon the complaint of his guardian, Robert was given his choice whether he would remain with his bride or return to his former home. He deliberately chose his new relations, and so, as the marriage was quite legal according to existing laws, everything went pleasantly for Master William! It made no difference, either, in the respect of the community or the king for the master mason; in 1344, he was appointed to superintend the building at Windsor, and was made a member of the Common Council in 1347. Verily, the Old Testament days were not the last in which every man “did that which was right in his own eyes.”
Carter gives some curious historical explanations of some very quaint and little-known sculptures in a frieze high up in the Chapel of Edward the Confessor in Westminster. One of them represents the Trial of Queen Emma, and is quite a spirited scene. The little accusing hands raised against the central figure of the queen, are unique in effect in a carving of this character. Queen Emma was accused of so many misdemeanours, poor lady! She had agreed to marry the enemy of her kingdom, King Canute: she gave no aid to her sons, Edward the Confessor and Alfred, when in exile; and she was also behaving in a very unsuitable manner with Alwin, Bishop of Winchester: she seems to have been versatile in crime, and it is no wonder that she was invited to withdraw from her high estate.
The burial of Henry V. is interestingly described in an old manuscript of nearly contemporary origin: “His body was embalmed and cired and laid on a royal carriage, and an image like to him was laid upon the corpse, open: and with divers banners, and horses, covered with the arms of England and France, St. Edward and St. Edmund... and brought with great solemnity to Westminster, and worshipfully buried; and after was laid on his tomb a royal image like to himself, of silver and gilt, which was made at the cost of Queen Katherine... he ordained in his life the place of his sepulchre, where he is now buried, and every daye III. masses perpetually to be sungen in a fair chapel over his sepulchre.” This exquisite arrangement of a little raised chantry, and the noble tomb itself, was the work of Master Mapilton, who came from Durham in 1416.